Ascension, Part V

Chapter 11

There was an attempt many years ago to develop a specialized squad of Saiyan security forces who would be used to deal with any kind of Saiyan unrest. This unit would report directly to the King, and would only be activated in the most serious of circumstances. 

The project was cancelled after only two months. Once the Saiyans were taught the basics of combat, they began to overwhelm their human instructors, and after a few weeks there was almost no way to stop them. The Saiyans in the pilot program were arrested and detained. Where they were sent remains classified, and they were never heard from again.

–Special Report on Saiyans in the Military

A guttural scream shattered the silence of the Royal Library’s sub-basement, but Rutab didn’t flinch. He knew that the mix anesthesia and propofol didn’t always completely subdue his Saiyan patients. Although they were unable to move, there were some who still experienced the discomfort of his procedures, and every now and again one managed to inform him of that fact. He ignored it and continued digging around in the bowels of his patient.

“Increase neuroplastacine injection rate to to 10cc per second,” he said once he’d secured the tube into the patient’s stomach. A lab tech near him nodded, turning dials on the machine he stood before. The black liquid trickled through the tube, mixing with the blood and bile in the digestive track. 

“The idea here, Mr. Grewn, is to attempt to seize control of the neurons that form the enteric nervous system,” Rutab said to the visibly pale man standing next to him, watching the experiment. “The so-called ‘gut feeling’ people have? It turns out there are more than 100 million neurons in the gastrointestinal system that control digestion, and those neurons send signals back to the brain. So while your stomach can’t think for itself, it certainly affects how you think.” 

“And Saiyans have this nervous system as well?” Grewn asked.

“Yes. It’s remarkable how similar our biology is. It almost makes you believe that there is a God that designed all of this to work together,” Rutab said. “But, there are differences. The Saiyan brain is an almost impossible nut to crack from the outside. However, the stomach neurons may prove to be more susceptible to our infiltration techniques. And if we can get control over those, we may be able to send signals to the brain from the gut that are coated in the neuroplastacine. The Saiyan brain wouldn’t perceive those as outside threats, and might even accept them.”

The Saiyan’s eyes snapped open, and began to roll around wildly. Grewn jumped back, and Rutab laughed.

“He’s a strong one. Don’t worry, about the only thing the subject can do is move their eyes,” he said. “Now, I need you to let the security forces know that I need more subjects, preferably adults.”

“What about the others you asked for?” Grewn asked.

“The youngsters? I’ll need them too, but not yet. I don’t want to begin working with them until I know that the procedure works. They’re the final step in the process.” The two men turned back towards the patient, whose eyes were slowly shutting as the black goo poured into his innards.

***

“A tournament?”

It was the first meeting of the full dojo since the assault on Jicama. He was there, fully healed save for the scar on his face, with Piña at his side. Will stood off to the side with Celer, and Reene was standing with Arula.

“That’s right, Will,” Arula said. “As you all know, a major feature of Son Goku’s world was the tenkaichi budokai, which occurred every five years. It was a way to determine who the strongest fighter in the world was. We’re going to do the same. Well, at least in terms of who’s the strongest in the dojo.”

Jicama smiled broadly. Reene felt her heart start pumping. A tournament? This would be the first time in her life that she was in a fight that wasn’t sparring or practice. She was ready to fight right there. As if sensing her eagerness, Arula held her hand up.

“Relax everyone, not today,” she said, smiling at their crestfallen expressions. “We can’t do it here, so first I have to find a location for us. We’ll do it next week during our session. The rules are simple. It will be a single elimination bracket, where you will battle until your opponent is unable to fight or gets knocked out of the ring. The four senior members of the dojo will compete in the first tournament.”

“Does that mean that I can’t fight?” Celer asked.

“For this one, yes,” she said. “But don’t worry, when you’re strong enough, you will join in to put yourself to the test.”

“Who will we each be fighting?” Jicama asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

“We’ll draw lots on the day of the tournament for the matchups.”

“What’s wrong Will? You haven’t said anything,” Reene said. 

“Oh nothing. Just thinking about what I’m going to do with all the prize money I win,” he said with a grin.

“Obviously there’s no money at stake,” Arula said. “There’s something far more important at stake here though, the title of champion of the very first Saiyan Dojo Tenkaichi Budokai.”

“That’s going to be me!” Piña declared, flexing her considerable muscles. 

“Don’t think I’m going to take it easy on you, woman,” Jicama said, bumping her away with his shoulder. “You’ll have to get through me.” 

“All right, there’ll be plenty of time for trash talking later,” Arula said. “Break off and begin your sparring for the day. Today Celer, you spar with Will. Reene, you’re with me.” The two walked off to the far side of the dojo, and when Arula stopped, Reene crouched into her fighting stance. Arula shook her head, and Reene stood back up.

“I want to talk to you Reene,” she said. There was a grave look on Arula’s face that she’d never seen before. “I’m greatly concerned about the attack on Jicama. I’m worried about what it could mean for us.”

“You mean because of how the humans are treating us?”

“Yes. I’m worried that things will only get worse from here. Do you remember that human that bumped into you the day that we met? I did end up finding him again, and he had some disturbing things to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s some kind of agitator. I think that he targeted you because you’re a Saiyan. He was trying to bait you into attacking him, to prove how savage and violent we are. Apparently there are groups dedicated to this sort of thing.”

“Why did he tell you all this?” Reene asked. 

“Let’s just say I was able to persuade him to talk,,” Arula said. She sighed, and looked off towards the city. “Most humans are fine. They go about their business and aren’t really concerned with what Saiyans are doing. They’re content to leave us alone.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” 

“It cuts both ways. They aren’t interested in hurting us, but they’re not interested in helping us either. That leaves space for humans like these agitator bozos, the Royal Security and this Serin person to do whatever they want. When we speak up, most humans don’t bat an eye.

“I have a feeling that words are going to fail us, soon Reene. There are alot of things happening right now, almost too much to keep track of. But none of it is headed in a good direction. Just be careful out there. You never know who’s looking to start trouble for its own sake.”

Reene had felt it. There was a building tension, like a colossal rubber band was being stretched further and further. Conversations about a simple kingdom-wide head count were becoming heated arguments in every corner. General attitudes about Saiyans were shifting too–where humans once thought of them as misfits or ne’er-do-wells, increasingly they started describing them as dangerous. It went the other way as well, and Reene had heard more than a few Saiyans she interviewed for work or interacted with in her neighborhood say that they would have to “do something” if their living conditions didn’t improve, although they never specified what that “something” was. If there wasn’t some way found to ease the tension, the rubber band was going to snap back with the force of billions of anxious and angry people.

“Enough about that though,” Arula said, bringing Reene back to the present. “You’ve got a tournament in a week. Show me what you can do.”

Reene resumed her combat crouch. She focused her breathing and cast her senses outward, feeling Arula’s energy within her. The power she held inside was perfectly controlled, a steady red flame that didn’t flicker wildly like Will’s. It was smaller than Jicama’s, but she knew that was simply because Jicama himself was bigger. There was a depth to Arula’s energy that Jicama lacked, that Reene couldn’t begin to wrap her senses around. She locked onto that energy as Arula stood prone, waiting. And then she leapt forward. 

Arula easily brushed aside her punch, and counterattacked with a blow aimed at her midriff. Reene was ready, and deflected the attack. Arula was momentarily surprised, and Reene took advantage by slamming her forehead into Arula’s unguarded face. She reeled, and Reene pressed her advantage, landing a rapidfire series of blows into her abdomen. Spittle flew from Arula’s lips as Reene pulled back. She twisted her hips and launched a full power heel kick into Arula’s ribs. She cried out as the strike sent her skidding across the dirt.

Reene knew she should continue to attack, but she couldn’t help it. She stopped for a moment to marvel at herself. She’d been practicing constantly over the last couple of months, shadowboxing at home and daydreaming about different maneuvers to try at work. While her coworkers spoke to her, she was imagining landing a chop to their neck. It paid off. She not only managed to land a hit on Arula, but it seemed like she’d managed to hurt her. She was so enthralled that she didn’t notice that Arula had stood back up, and was grinning. 

“You let your guard down,” she said. Reene saw a flash; it wasn’t exactly visible, but a shock shot across her senses. By the time she registered what she had felt, it was too late. Arula had already landed a crushing uppercut to her open chin. Blood splashed from Reene’s mouth as she bit down on her tongue, lifting into the air from the force of the attack. She felt rather than saw Arula leap above her and land a double axe handle to the crown of her head. Reene’s vision blurred, and she was out cold before she hit the ground.

____

The world was still spinning when she came to. It felt like her head was crashing into a brick wall over and over again. The pain was so unbearable that she felt like she might vomit. She tried to force herself up, but her weakened body shook and collapsed under its own weight. She lay there, face down in the dirt, for what felt like days until the pain in her skull slightly subsided. Then she managed to roll over, to lay face up in the dirt.

Arula was standing over her, with a sympathetic look on her face. “Sorry, I may have gotten a little ahead of myself,” she said, kneeling next to Reene. Her apology infuriated Reene, and she struggled to hold back the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. All that practice and training, just to be defeated so easily. No, not just defeated. Crushed. Embarrassed. 

Arula tapped her softly on the shoulder, and pain radiated out and throughout Reene’s body. She withdrew her hand when she saw the young woman wince against her will. “Don’t take it personally. I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive.” She pulled Reene up and forced her to sit up. Reene wretched, but managed to stop from collapsing over on her side. She tried to speak, but even thinking about words made her head ring. Finally, after a long while, she was able to choke out a few words.

“What…was that?”

“That’s the next thing for you to learn, the power that I’m going to teach all of you when you’re ready,” she said. “That’s the power of aura.”

“Oh…” Reene said, before she passed out again. 

***

Vanessa Serrin was surprised to see the throngs that had turned out to hear her speak. She was standing near a small podium in front of West City’s Royal Bank. The podium was just a prop now, as an unforecast downpour had rendered the notes she’d prepared for the rally illegible. Still, the main points of what she wanted to say hadn’t changed in the last few weeks, so she was ready to go either way. She’d just have to leave out the specific numbers she’d wanted to cite. 

The census proposal had become a lightning rod, drawing supporters and detractors from far and wide at every event she attended. Some of her colleagues had begun to worry about all the attention; their campaign speeches typically only drew a few dozen die-hard supporters, but now crowds were starting to number into the hundreds. Shouting matches often broke out, and there had even been some shoving at the last rally near the Capsule Corp. distribution center a week ago. They wondered if they could keep such large crowds under control. She reassured them though that this was true representative government. The people were making their voices heard, and sometimes it got ugly. 

Parliamentarian Soot was standing next to her, holding a large umbrella overhead for the both of them. He was ecstatic about the turnout. His poll numbers rose in tandem with support for the census, and he was enjoying the most attention he’d ever received. People were standing in the rain to hear them speak, and it didn’t matter to him one bit that most of them were there for Serrin. They would hear him speak too, after she’d warmed them up first.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Serrin said, stepping up to the podium. A cacophony of hisses and jeers greeted her from a group of protesters off to the left, but it was immediately drowned out by the louder roar of cheers from supporters. Serrin was surprised to see that both groups were equally diverse. It seemed that Saiyans were as split in their opinion about the census as humans were.

“Friends, I want to take a moment to address some of the things that our opponents have said about us,” she started. Her supporters started to boo, but she held up her hand. “Now now, it’s important that all voices are heard, and that we address those concerns. We are one kingdom, after all. They say that we want the government to control your lives. They say that we want to know who you are, what you are, and where you are. They say that we want to know where to send the troops when the time comes.

“To that I say, they’re almost right. But they have it backwards. We don’t want the government to control you. We want you to control the government. We want you to tell us where we should be spending our money, for who and on what. When I say our money, I really mean your money. Your tax zenni, that you worked hard for, should go back to you, whether you’re a human, a Saiyan, a beastman or anything else under the sun. For that to happen, you need to say, I’m here! Shout it from the streets, shout it from your homes, shout it wherever you are! I’m here!”

The crowd began to chant along with Serrin, and at first she didn’t hear the raised voices shouting at each other on the periphery of the crowd. A group of human supporters were standing face to face with Saiyan protesters, inching closer to each other with each passing second. Serrin finally noticed right before one of the humans took a swing at a Saiyan woman who was flicking her tail in the man’s face. The woman dodged the punch and went to lunge forward, but thought better of it and stepped back. That only emboldened the man, who stepped forward again and pushed her. 

“That’s enough, there’s no need for violence here,” Serrin said, although her pulse began to quicken. A Saiyan striking a human at a rally would be just the push she needed to get reluctant parliamentarians to support the census. After all, they’d know exactly where the Saiyan who struck back lived to hold them accountable. 

“Don’t pretend like you’re for peace and love,” another Saiyan woman shouted at Serrin. She was small even by human standards, barely reaching the shoulders of those who stood around her. Although the weight of the rain in her hair weighed it down, there was no mistaking the telltale stiffness, or the tail that curled around her waist. “You’re going to use that list to come after all of us eventually!” She was moving aggressively towards the stage. Serrin took a step back, and Soot stepped in front of her.

“Security! Remove that woman!” he shouted. As if materializing out of thin air, a squad of red-clad security officers began moving through the crowd towards the woman. They jostled and bumped anyone in their way as they closed in on her. Someone pushed one of the security guards back, and they immediately whipped out their batons, the rain sizzling as they came into contact with the electric glow from the weapons. The officer swung, and seconds later there was a small riot erupting on the edge of the crowd. The violence induced panic, and suddenly a stampede had begun, with hundreds of people running in every direction to escape.

“Calm down! Everyone calm–” Soot started before a bottle that had been hurled towards the stage struck him in the forehead. The glass shattered, leaving a deep wound that oozed blood mixed with rain across his cheek. Serrin grabbed him quickly as he stumbled.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” she shouted, leading him away from the podium and into the fray. She hoped to slip through the melee without anyone noticing, to get him to her car so they could escape. Serrin watched as the Saiyan woman who was approaching them earlier cried out as the security officers hit her over and over with their batons. Soot stumbled, falling to one knee and Serin crouched down to help him back up.

There was no warning. One moment, Serrin was helping Soot up. The next, she heard a terrible crash, like lightning that struck right at her feet and a splitting sound like thunder blew her off her own feet. She was hurled back a good ten meters, hitting the ground and skidding to a stop on the slick pavement. She went to sit up when she felt a jolt of pain shoot through her, coming from her leg. Serrin looked down to see what was wrong, and gasped when she saw nothing. There was no leg beyond her knee, just a split, bloody stump oozing her life into the street. She became faint, but willed herself to stay focused on her injury. If she passed out, she would bleed to death right there. She took her jacket and quickly tied it around the wounded area, making a tourniquet as best she could. 

She crawled towards Soot, who was only a few meters away from her. He was unconscious, but she could see his chest moving up and down with shallow breaths. His face was seared, turning his once handsome face into a gruesome collection of burns and keloids. The scene was much the same all around her, with limbs and wounded people scattered as far as she could see. 

And in the center of it all stood the Saiyan woman, motionless as she looked around at what had occurred around her. Instantly Serrin knew what had happened. Another explosion. Another Saiyan had cost countless lives. The woman turned and met Serrin’s eyes, wide with fear. She ran off into the rest of the dazed crowd, and disappeared.

Chapter 12

Of course, I’d been in fights before. I’d been fighting for most of my life. Raditz showed up when I was four, and from there it was nonstop combat– Vegeta, Frieza, the Androids. Unlike my father, Vegeta, and even Piccolo, I never sought battle though. It was always a necessary evil that was forced on me by some threat that placed my family and friends in danger. Fighting Majin Buu was the same.

But Cell was different. It’s true that I didn’t want to fight him at first, because I was scared. His power was so overwhelming, it made Frieza look like an amateur. After he killed Android 16 though, I felt something snap. It wasn’t just that my power had grown. My desire to fight grew too. I wanted to hurt Cell, not just kill him. It felt like my inner Saiyan had awoken, and that frightened me even more than he did.

–Excerpt from My Life as a Warrior, by Son Gohan

Reene could feel the eyes of every human within a kilometer of her burning into her as she approached the main entrance of the Royal Library. It had been three days since the explosion at the rally. 34 people had been killed, all humans. The Saiyans near the blast were hearty enough to survive, although some sustained serious injuries. Parliamentarian Soot was still in a coma, his face burned beyond recognition, and Parliamentarian Serrin was still in intensive care, waiting for a prosthetic leg to arrive from Capsule Corp. The Saiyan responsible for the explosion had long since disappeared, and security officials were stopping Saiyans at random, questioning them about their connection to her. Reene felt like a noose was beginning to tighten.

She didn’t want to leave her house for anything but work, but Will had told her it was urgent. He’d summoned her and the other senior members of the dojo to the library. She was searched and had a small identification tag placed on her when she entered. A royal decree had been issued, forcing anyone entering government buildings to wear an ID badge while they were on site, although she noticed with a sinking feeling that only Saiyans seemed to have the tags on inside the library. 

Will and the others were sitting at a table on the far side of the lobby. She nodded silently to them as she sat down.

“We’re all here. What is this about?” Jicama asked.

“You’ve all read Son Gohan’s book,” he said. “The pods that carried Vegeta and his underling to Earth are here, in this library.” 

Reene leaned forward, keeping her voice down. “How do you know that?”

“Just call it a hunch. A very strong hunch. You see that door over there that says classified? I’d bet a million zenni that they’re behind that door, wherever it leads to.” 

“So? Why are you telling us this?” Piña asked. 

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since I came to this library with the kids. I think we should break in there and see what’s down there.”  Reene couldn’t believe what he was saying. He sounded more like Jicama in that moment than he would ever admit. As if on cue, Jicama nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it’s time. We need to learn what the humans have been keeping from us,” he said.

“Are you two out of your minds?” Reene snapped. “Saiyans are public enemy number one right now. How do you think the humans will respond if we storm a government facility and start stealing things?”

“That’s actually why I think right now is the time to do this,” Will said. “I’d been holding off on saying anything because of the potential consequences. But now, things can’t get much worse than they already are. What’s one more stick in the inferno?”

“It’s another stick in the inferno, duh!” Piña said. As right as she was, Reene had to admit that there was a perverse logic to what Will was saying. If there was a time to act out, it was when everyone was expecting them to act out.

“Do you have a plan?” Reene asked before she realized what she was saying. Will nodded, sliding a purple colored badge across the table.

“I stole this from one of the security guards when we came to the library,” he said. “I’ve been holding onto it ever since. It should get me into that classified door, as long as it hasn’t been deactivated in the time since. I called you three here because I need a diversion to get near the door without anyone noticing.”

“What are you going to do when you’re in there? You can’t just walk out with a giant pod on your back,” Reene said. 

Will removed a small data rod from his other pocket. “I’m going to use this to download as much information as I can from their computers,” he said. “We don’t need to know everything, but the more we can learn about ourselves, the better prepared we’ll be for whatever’s going to come next.” 

Jicama looked over towards the door, then back at his comrades. “All right, I’m in. Are you two?”

Reene nodded grimly. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but it was probably their best shot to gain access to the history of their people that hadn’t been covered in Son Gohan’s book. She had so many more questions since reading it. She had to know if the answers were behind that door. 

Piña looked the most troubled. “If we mess this up, are they going to attack us? Jicama was almost killed for nothing by these people. What will they do to us if they catch us trying to break in there?”

Jicama grabbed her hand, holding it in his until it stopped trembling. “Will is smart. He wouldn’t have called us here if he didn’t have it all planned out.” Reene was more surprised by Jicama’s praise for will than Piña’s hesitancy. Eventually, Piña nodded in consent. “It’s decided then. Let’s walk back towards the door. You two, follow my lead. When you see your chance Will, head for the door.”

“Got it,” Will said. He stayed at the table as Jicama, Reene and Piña walked into the center of the library’s lobby. He watched as Jicama leaned over towards Piña and whispered something in her ear. She stopped dead in her tracks, and Will could see her eyes grow wide with surprise, and then anger even from where he was still seated.

“You want to what?!” she cried out, putting her hands on her hips dramatically. Her icy stare turned into pure venom as she looked over at Reene, who recoiled instinctively from her gaze even though she hadn’t heard what Jicama had said.

“Wait, wait, it was just an idea that popped into my head,” Jicama said, raising his hands up in surrender. “I just figured that we’re always hanging out together, and there’s two of you, so…”

“So what? What did he say?” Reene asked, still avoiding Piña’s eyes.

“Yeah, tell her too!” Piña shouted. Jicama darted a frightened look over at Will, nodding towards the door. Will stood up, moving slowly in the direction of the classified area. He kept his focus on his three friends though, waiting for the moment to make his move.

“Um…well, I had the idea that maybe we could…um, all…” Jicama trailed off.

“All what?” Reene demanded. Jicama leaned in to her now, repeating what he’d said to Piña. Reene’s eyes widened in horror, then narrowed with bone-chilling speed at Jicama.

“That’s disgusting! You pervert!” she yelled, slapping him across the face.

“Is that what you’ve been planning this whole time? Trying to get close to us?” Piña asked. The force of Reene’s blow had spun him back towards her, and she shoved him back towards Reene. “Go to her then, since you want her so bad!”

“No, I don’t- this is part of the- of course I don’t want to-” Jicama stammered, suddenly aware that his plan had worked. The guards in the library began rushing towards the disturbance en masse. He nodded at Will, just before Piña began to rain blows down upon him.

Will realized what he must have said to make both Reene and Piña equally upset, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he rushed towards the door. He wasn’t sure who was doing the more dangerous thing now, him or Jicama. He slid the security badge out of his pocket, and held his breath as he held it up to the scanner near the door frame. Nothing happened for an agonizingly long moment, but then the scanner beeped and he heard the door unlock. Reene and Piña were now shouting at each other, with Jicama in the middle trying to calm them down and a squad of security guards looking on in befuddled amusement.

“Godspeed, Jicama,” Will said as he slipped into the open door quickly. He found himself at the top of a long stairwell, with a single overhead lamp lighting the way down. He started his descent, feeling his heart beat louder in his chest with each step he took towards his unknown destination. The cacophony caused by his friends grew quieter and quieter as he descended, and soon all he could hear was the sound of his footsteps echoing off the cold metallic stairs. 

Another door stood at the end of the stairwell. A security guard was seated at a desk just before it, sitting at stiff attention. Will nearly froze, but forced himself to keep walking. Using Arula’s technique, he could sense that the person sitting there was human. He could easily knock the guard out if necessary, but that might draw unwanted attention. There was something strange about the man’s energy though. It was weak, barely perceptible. That was strange even for a human. Was there something wrong? Will approached carefully, then let out a sigh of relief. The poor man was asleep.

He slid his badge against the door’s scanner, and tensed as it beeped. The guard didn’t even stir. Will stepped into a circular room, almost as large as the lobby above. A few library staff were milling about on the periphery of the room, standing in front of large computer terminals and chatting amiably with each other. To his left, Will saw a collection of stacks, but instead of books there were dozens of boxes of data rods neatly stacked and alphabetized by category. Behind those were rows and rows of computer servers, humming quietly. Will felt the single data rod in his pocket. He couldn’t even get a fraction of a fraction of the information that was located in this basement onto that rod. Which meant he would have to improvise.

He swept his eyes over the facility again, and then he saw it. All the way in the back, off to the right and suspended in midair by metal wires and an intricate pulley system. It gleamed pure white, and aside from a few scrapes on the outside from where it crashed into earth, it looked as pristine as it did in the video Will had watched with the kids. It was the pod that the Saiyan warrior Nappa had used to come to the planet. Will began to walk towards it, but thought better of it. He wanted nothing more than to stand in awe before it, a real piece of Saiyan history that connected him to the race that he was a part of, but knew so little about. But there was no time for that. He turned instead towards the collection of data rods. He scanned the words on the boxes quickly, trying to determine which would give him the best chance of finding what he was looking for. Sure enough, he found the box he was looking for near the end of the collection: “Saiyan History Archives”. 

He looked back at the other workers who still hadn’t even noticed him, much less taken an interest in what he was doing. Guess it’s a good thing I look like them, he thought to himself. He carefully slid the box from its perch on the stack, and searched for a secluded area to examine it. He saw a breakroom down to the left. He grabbed the box and dashed for the room before he could be seen. He slammed the box on the table and quickly ripped it open. There were hundreds of data rods in the box. This much information was stored in that one pod? Will marveled at the ingenuity of his forebearers. They may have been space pirates, but they also clearly understood advanced technology.

Behind him, Will heard the telltale flush of a toilet. He hadn’t noticed there was a door in the room. It opened, and outstepped a short human male, with thick glasses and a broad nose that they rested on. Will didn’t turn to face the man, hoping he would simply walk out without saying anything.

“Hey,” the man said suddenly. He walked closer to Will, and still he didn’t turn around. He was afraid he would recognize that he wasn’t one of the regulars. “What are you doing?”

Will wracked his brain for some name, any name, he’d heard while he was down there. The other workers were too far away for him to have overheard their conversations. It was a shot in the dark either way.

“Uh…the doctor wanted me to reorganize these. He thinks some of the data rods got mislabeled,” Will said.

“Oh okay. You don’t have to do that in here though, there’s a better light in the lab room over there,” the man said. 

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.” Will held his breath until he could no longer hear the man’s footsteps. He still wasn’t sure how he would get the entire box past the workers there, so he did the next thing he could think of. He began stuffing as many data rods into his pockets as he could. He tried to take them out in order, hoping that keeping them in sequence would help them make sense of all the information later. 

He didn’t bother to carry the box back out to the stack, moving quickly along the wall with his head down to avoid drawing any attention. He’d made it back to the doorway when the same man in the glasses called out to him again. 

“Hey,” he yelled across the room. Will stopped, turning his head only slightly to show his acknowledgement but still keep his face hidden. “We gonna see you at the battle ball game this weekend?”

Will flashed a thumbs up, again keeping his face obscured. “You know it,” he said. He opened the door and exited before anyone else could say anything. His heavy thuds on the metallic stairs as he ran as fast as he could didn’t wake the security guard from his slumber. 

***

Serrin hadn’t found the strength to look down yet. It had been almost a week since the explosion at the rally. The doctors had assured her that the surgery was a complete success, and that her new biosynthetic leg would function just as well as her old leg, maybe even better. She could feel the difference though. It felt like it didn’t fit, like a sock which had lost all of its elastic. There were pricks where the cold metal of the synthetic limb connected to her skin, like miniature needles randomly stabbing her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at it, much less try to move it.

Soot had his entire face reconstructed. Doctors said that he would make a full recovery as well, but that it would take time. His family withdrew him from the election while he was still in a coma. When he awoke, his mouth was wired shut so he couldn’t express his frustration and anger, but Serrin knew exactly how he was feeling. She made sure to speak up on his behalf. 

She’d spent the last couple of days trying to reconstruct her memory of that day. Her aides had offered to bring her the official security footage of the day, but she’d said no. She didn’t want the event told to her. Serrin wanted to recall everything– the sights, the sounds, even the smells. She wanted to remember how she felt in those moments so that she could carry it forward with her.

Support for the census had skyrocketed since that day, with more than 80% of humans now supporting the need for a census. The public mood had shifted dramatically. No one was talking about the census as a way to allocate funds or create more equal voting districts. It was about finding out how many Saiyans there were, and where they were. Serrin grimaced. If it cost her leg for the rest to see the truth, then so be it. Better that than any more lives.

A knock came at her door. Before she could answer, a security guard and a parliamentary aide entered the room. She recognized the aide immediately, and knew who was going to follow him. “Tell him I don’t want to see him,” she said.

Parliamentarian Bell stepped into the room. His eyes went straight to Serrin’s leg, and he caught himself and looked her in the eyes. “I only sent them in to make sure that you’re awake and decent,” he said. “We have to talk, Vanessa.”

She felt like her head had been filled with hot air. The audacity of him to make demands on her. But then another thought occurred to her. If he was coming to her, hat in hand, it could be an opportunity.

“Fine. Alone,” she said coolly. Bell nodded, and the other two men left the room. The two parliamentarians stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry Vanessa, I really am,” Bell finally said. “You know I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt.”

Serrin weighed her possible responses in a fraction of a second, and decided it was better to play ball, at least to see what the game actually was. “I know that,” she said. “But what you want and what’s happening are not in alignment.”

Bell sighed. “Off the record?” Serrin nodded. “Look, I know we have a problem. These explosions are a nightmare. No one knows what’s causing them, or when the next one will happen. All we can tell is that the Saiyan that explodes is very agitated before the incident.”

“Your people get agitated very quickly.”

“Yeah, I know,” he snapped, then blanched at his own confirmation of her statement. “Everyone’s afraid. Hell I’m afraid. I don’t want to go off one day just because a bill I sponsored doesn’t get passed. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

Serrin regarded him. Bell had come into the parliament in the same election that she did. They were diametrically opposed on almost every issue, and she’d come to see him as her main opponent to getting things done. She also recognized that he was a skilled politician, and had a level of grudging respect for him. In that moment, though, she could see that he was being genuine. 

“So what are we going to do about it?” she asked softly.

“That is the bottom line, isn’t it?” Bell said. He ran his hand through his spiky hair, and paced in front of her. He was getting ready to say something that he didn’t want to, she surmised, but felt like he had no other choice. “Okay. I’m willing to support your call for a census. But under one condition.”

Serrin couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Bell, on board with the census? His support was ten times more powerful than having Soot chasing around after her. She’d almost missed the part about his condition, and calmed herself enough to brace for something she didn’t want to hear.

“What’s that?”

“It’s gotta come as a decree from the King,” Bell said. Serrin scoffed knowingly.

“You want the King to decree it because that means he can also rescind it someday,” she said. “If the parliament passes it, then it’s set in stone law, and you’ll never be able to undo it.”

“That’s right,” he said. “This isn’t some political calculation, Vanessa. People are angry right now. We need to respond to that, but the decree gives us some level of protection that if things get out of hand, we can put the brakes on this thing. We don’t want the census to lead to Royal security kicking in the doors of Saiyans all over the kingdom.”

Serrin thought for a moment. “But why do I need your support anyway? With the current public mood, we can get that census made into law the moment I set foot back in the parliament.”

“Yes, you can,” he said. “But I promise, you’ll pass it without a single Saiyan vote. It’ll look like humans have decided to start hunting down Saiyans, and I’m sure you know what the potential consequences of that might be.” Serrin frowned. He was right; passing the bill without any Saiyan support was untenable. She’d lined up a few token Saiyan supporters before the explosion, but she didn’t doubt Bell’s ability to flip them to his side if he really tried. 

Before she answered though, she finally looked down. She slowly pulled the covers off of her new leg. To her surprise, it looked completely normal. There were even slight discolorations and abrasions like a real leg would have. She wiggled her toes. It felt real. It looked real. But when she looked closely enough, she could see the slight mismatch in color between her own skin and that of the prosthesis. A permanent reminder of just how dangerous Saiyans are. Whatever else she thought, provoking them was out of the question. She looked up and saw Bell staring at the same mismatch. He looked away when she caught him.

“Fine. You have a deal. You announce your support for the census, and I’ll announce that we’re seeking a royal decree. Let’s say it’s to expedite the process,” she said, extending her hand to him. Bell felt like he’d gotten the best deal he could out of a losing hand. And that he was going to lose still.

He shook her hand anyway. “It’s a deal.”