Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ Cookies and poison ( Chapter 16 )

AN: See, I finally wrote something :) My thanks to LisaB, for beta-ing and encouragement.

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Levi wiped a few crumbs from his mouth. He eyed a bowl filled with something that appeared to be fruit, all twisted into curious shapes. His hand tightened around the two-toothed fork, and he stabbed it into a fruit that resembled a tiny person, complete with head, arms, and legs.

 

He was thinking about weapons. There had been weapons in the capsule ship, locked inside a cabinet, a couple of which had been small enough to carry in the pocket. He wished they had them right now, but Bra had just given him a flat stare when he had suggested that they should try to smuggle them off the ship.

 

“I can hide it inside my shoe,” he had said. “See?” He had pushed his foot inside, careful not to show his pain as his toes were squished.

 

She had probably been right. The thing that galled him though - the thing that was particularly maddening - was that the guards had just patted him on his back and his sides, without giving his shoes a single glance.

 

“We're like bank robbers,” Levi said. “Bank robbers in a humongous bank without even a gun.” He nibbled on the head of the fruit figure. It tasted good - like a peach.

 

“Funny,” Bra said. She did not sound the least bit amused. “I told you to get the gun out of your mind. Using it would be like jabbing a stick into an ant hill… while we were staying in one of the ant rooms, and our ant ship was parked outside, on the other side of the hill.”

 

“But we could-” he started to say.

 

“Besides…” Bra stared straight into his eyes. “I can't believe that Trunks never taught you how to control your ki.”

 

“Well, he never did,” Levi snapped. She must have known that already, so why did she have to bring it up right now?

 

Bra was silent for a long moment. “I'm sure he has good reasons,” she said at last.

 

“Yes, I'm sure he has.” Levi looked away. He felt ashamed. Ashamed that he knew so little. That his father would care so little.

 

“Look.” Bra moved her chair closer to his. “If we hadn't been where we are, I would probably have said that he had made the right choice. Fighting might be our heritage…” She paused, and her voice became a low whisper. “But it has to end some time.”

 

Levi shrugged, feeling defensive. “But now we are where we are,” he said. What did she mean, it had to end some time?

 

“Yes,” Bra sighed. “Now we are where we are.” She leaned her elbows on the table. He couldn't quite see her face.

 

There was a buzz by the door.

 

Levi looked at Bra and saw her lean over the table to pick up her tiny ear piece and put it in her ear. He reached into the pocket of his trousers to do the same.

 

“Come in,” Bra called.

 

He knew that the person on the other side of the door had an ear piece too, translating everything they said. It was obvious that the Node City people were used to dealing with all sorts of languages, but Bra still insisted that they should learn to speak the alien tongue for themselves. Language can never be fully translated by mechanisms, she had said, and mistakes were bound to happen.

 

The door slid open, revealing a short round figure wearing a red suit. Levi assumed he was male, since he saw no female shapes underneath the red jacket.

 

“Forgive me if I'm interrupting,” the person said. “I wanted to see if everything was to your satisfaction.”

 

“Oh, Steward Linne.” Bra's voice was bright with recognition. The chair scraped against the floor as she got to her feet. “Everything is fine, but I have a few questions if you don't mind.”

 

“By all means.” The visitor smiled.

 

“When can we see Vegeta?” Her words cut through the air, sharp like a whip.

 

“I'm sorry, I don't know when that will be exactly.” Linne took a step backwards as Bra leaned over him.

 

“How can you not know, when we told you we wanted to see him?”

 

Linne made an apologetic gesture. “It is my task to see to your needs as our guests, but I have nothing to do with the implementation of the Law. All I know is that you have received your place in line. The administrators responsible for the schedule will contact you soon, and any questions you have regarding the prisoner can be directed to them.”

 

“Oh, come on!”

 

“Excuse me?” The steward scrunched his nose and his chubby cheeks puffed out.

 

Levi saw Bra clasp her hands together, as if telling herself to calm down. “Don't we have any say on when to see him?”

 

“Of course not. You have to wait your time in line like everybody else. The Galaxy has no favourites and no derelicts.” He spoke the last part as if it was a well-known proverb.

 

“No derelicts? What about Vegeta then?” Her retort was fast and, Levi assumed, completely spontaneous.

 

“I'm not sure that I know what you mean.”

 

“I didn't mean anything really.” A brittle laugh. “I was just wondering about the… death sentence. Just a general wondering. Has there, for example, been a trial where they decided what to do?

 

“A trial?” Linne sounded puzzled. “There was no need for a trial. He is Vegeta. The Law knows his name, and it knows his crimes.”

 

“What are the chances for an appeal?”

 

Levi stared. It seemed like Bra was trying to pass the question off as a joke, although he could plainly hear the urgency in her voice.

 

“Don't worry about it.” The steward shook his head and smiled. “I guess the only thing that could overrule the Law would be a direct order from the Galaxy.” He laughed, discreetly but with an effortless ease, as if he had said something truly funny.

 

Bra exchanged a glance with Levi.

 

Turning back to the steward she said, “What would I do if, for argument's sake, I wanted to speak to the Galaxy?”

 

“You don't. Only the Readers speak to the Galaxy.” The steward spoke slowly, with emphasis on each word. For the first time he looked at her with something that might have been suspicion.

 

“Is that so?” Bra rubbed her chin. “And who are those Readers?”

 

His mouth fell open.

 

“But I forget my manners!” Bra exclaimed, shifting gears. She stuck her hand underneath his arm and tugged him towards the table. “Please sit down. Would you like a cookie?”

 

Without a word they each reached for the round tray and took a cookie. They bit down with crunching noises, chewing with wide eyes and closed lips. Levi swallowed. The cookie was unexpectedly hard and tasted of sugar and malt.

 

“Listen,” Bra said, once everyone had finished. “This is the first time I'm visiting the Node City, and I will not be ashamed of my ignorance. You mentioned the Readers, and I got curious. Could you please tell us more about them?”

 

“Of course.” Linne laughed, and whatever doubts he might have had seemed to disappear altogether. “Forgive me. I tend to forget that things that are obvious to me sometimes are new to other people.”

 

“I understand.” Bra patted his hand, and they grinned at each other like they had been best friends.

 

Shaken and confused, Levi grabbed another cookie.

 

“The Readers,” Linne said, “are my employers… they run the Nodes. They are sent there from planets who are active members of the Galaxy. I take it that your people hasn't appointed one yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Bra said. “Have you met any of the Readers then?”

 

“Sure. I see them in the hallways sometimes, and once I even sat in on a meeting. They are hard to miss. You'll recognize them on their hats.”

 

“Hats?”

 

“Yes. Linne gestured above his head. “They all wear one, at least when they are doing something important.” He chuckled. “Everyone wears one except for Reader Hemmet, I should have said. He has no head. But I've heard that he had a cape made with the hat embroidered on the back.”

 

“What does this hat look like?”

 

Linne started to answer but was interrupted by a low buzzing sound. They turned to the door.

 

“Come in,” Bra said, and the door whooshed open.

 

In the entrance stood a man in a dark robe. He had pale, smiling features, and he was wearing a black hat which nearly touched the upper part of the doorway.

 

“That's what it looks like,” Linne whispered. He cleared his throat. “Good evening, Reader Rok.”

 

---

 

My, Bra thought. The room is going to get pretty crowded if this continues. She looked at the latest visitor with interest. So this is one of the big wigs, huh? He seemed friendly enough, the way he smiled, but his eyes made her wary. They were bright with a sort of keen assessment, wandering between her and Levi as if he couldn't wait to hear what they had to say.

 

Linne rose from the table. “I'll leave you now.” The door closed behind him.

 

Bra had stood up as well. “Hello, Reader Rok,” she said, imitating Linne's way of address. “I'm Bra, and this…” she gave Levi a nod, “this is my son Mandrake.” She winced at the lie, but then she had to smile when Levi raised his chin and squared his shoulders, almost as if he liked hearing that he was her son.

 

“I'm pleased to meet you.” The Reader's hat dipped forward in a small nod. Bra's eyes wandered to his quirking mouth. Is he wearing lipstick? she wondered. He didn't appear to be, and Bra assumed that he always looked like he had been drinking tar.

 

“We were having a snack,” Bra said. “Would you like to join us?”

 

“Thank you.” The Reader sat down on the seat that Linne had just emptied. Levi pushed the tray closer to him, and he picked up one of the cookies and held it in a delicate grip between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Bra finished her cookie off in three bites. She took a sip of water to rinse the taste out of her mouth.

 

“I suppose you wonder why I'm here.” Reader Rok leaned back, with one arm behind the backrest of his chair. He fell silent, waiting for their response with raised eyebrows.

 

“Yes,” Bra said, letting patience surface in her voice. “I do.”

 

He grinned at her. “I wanted to make you an offer. I heard you came to see Vegeta, and since I have an appointment to see him this night, I thought I might take you with me. If you want to come, that is?”

 

“I… tonight?” Bra glanced at Levi. “But I thought we were going to get a time for ourselves. Maybe tomorrow or the next day?”

 

“No, I'm sorry. Many citizens of the Node want to visit Vegeta, more then we anticipated. Your turn won't come up until three or four days, and by then it might be too late. I've heard that the poison has started to undermine Vegeta's cardiac functions, which is a sure sign that death is approaching.”

 

The lines of the Reader's face settled into a calm mask. Bra met his eyes, lined in black, and saw him observing her with a scrutiny that chilled her to the bones.

 

He knows. He knows who we are.

 

He saw right through their theatre, he knew why they had come. Or… maybe she was mistaken? Maybe she was just being paranoid, letting herself be guided by a fleeting impression. Still…

 

“You could take anyone with you to see Vegeta. Why us?”

 

There was a pause before the Reader answered. “You are our guests. I couldn't let you come all this way for nothing.”

 

Right now his reasons didn't matter, Bra decided. They had no choice but to take him up on his offer. “Then we thank you. It's very kind of you to think about us.”

 

“Not at all. And now, if you will excuse me, I have some business of my own to attend to.”

 

As the Reader walked to the door, Bra saw something that she hadn't noticed before. Underneath his wide robes, rolling back and forth with every step he took, was the bulky shape of a tail. The white tip glided a hair's breadth away from brushing against the floor. The Reader's feet stopped, and Bra's eyes travelled up to his face in time to catch his amused smile.

 

“Someone will come for you,” he said, opening the door. “Please be ready to leave in two hours.”

 

---

 

Bra sat cross-legged on her bed, her back resting against the smooth wall. There were no windows in the room and no plants. She missed both. She liked to surround herself with green, growing things. Back home there had always seemed to be some plant present - a row of cactuses on the window sill, ivy climbing the steps to the front door. A couple of flowers in a vase. That was normal to her.

 

The wise thing, Bra thought, would be to wait. To be cautious. Be cool. Leave it to the others. Let them do the Thing. The Thingy. Thingamabob. Like an echo she heard her brother's words: Stay low.

 

They would be close enough to see him, and talk to him. What would she say? she wondered. What promise could she make? What would it take to be cautious, to do the wise thing? What about regrets? What about chances that only came once?

 

She had to ask: if they took that thing - the collar - off… If the people here saw Vegeta… free. Wouldn't that be reason enough? Reason to let them go, to refrain from shooting, fighting, burning?

 

Levi was standing in the middle of the floor. His fists flew out, tight punches through the air. He wasn't facing her, embarrassed, she knew, that she should see him at all. He jumped up and down a few times, warming up. He looked younger than his fifteen years.

 

Damn. Just… damn.

 

She moved to the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, giving him her full attention. He was pretty fast, she thought, for someone who was pretending to do something not worth noticing.

 

“Try standing with your legs further apart. And bend your knees some more.”

 

He glanced at her, a startled look on his face. He did what she had told him, moving his feet to find his balance. His punches looked better, although she saw a lot of tension in his shoulders. He stopped, letting his fists fall down his sides. “Huh,” he muttered, a sound between a sneer and a laugh. “I have no idea what I'm doing.”

 

“I thought you were doing fine.”

 

“And I thought you didn't know how to fight.”

 

“I don't.” She rested her chin in her hand, searching for the right words. “There are the forms of fighting, though, of which I've learned a little bit. How could I not, surrounded by people who did little else? Then there is the fighting itself, the act of it, the punch, the…” She shrugged. “It's hard to explain. It's about what you feel, and about the choices you make… and the choices that are made for you. Do you see what I mean?”

 

“Maybe.” He said it slowly, and with a distant look that made her believe that she had given him a lot to think about.

 

“It's cruel, the fight,” Bra continued. “It makes you feel harsh inside, and it changes the things it touches, makes them… oh, I don't know. More brittle maybe, the way a rock is brittle compared to… water… or a tree…” She had lost her focus. She blinked, and lifted her hand, her fingers curled in a familiar gesture.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Hush.”

 

A soft glow filled her palm and wandered up her fingers. Her arm felt lighter, as if someone was holding it up for her. She sensed the glow roam through her body, thought her arms and her lungs, and she felt a warmth on her back, a comforting warmth, as if a benevolent presence had settled behind her.

 

Levi had stepped closer. His hand reached out and touched the light. He let it rest in the air above her fingers, and she felt the weight of it, the pressure of his palm. The glow whirled between them.

 

“Kinda nice,” he murmured.

 

She bent her fingers a little bit more, and locked her wrist. “You have to pull away now, as I do this next thing.” He lifted his hand and she nodded. “Watch,” she said.

 

The light shrunk, until she was holding a bright dot within the cage of her fingers. She channelled determination into the light, fuelled it with anger, with grief, and saw it turn white and solid. She felt the heat against her lips.

 

Levi reached out again, and put his fingers between hers. He was so close that she sensed the sphere reach out to him, looking for further substance. “It… stings,” he said. He was squinting, and his face was striped with light.

 

“That it does.”

 

The ball of energy was as small as she could make it, and she had hardly raised her ki, mindful of hidden cameras or spying sensors. Making it had been easy, easier then it had ever been before. She could have continued to fill it, to nourish it until it burned away the walls of the room, maybe the whole building. A part of her wanted to see it like that, harsh edges and all.

 

She closed her fingers around the ball and let it sink back into her body. She flexed her wrist. “There.”

 

“What was that for?”

 

“Just making a point. You felt it, didn't you? The difference.”

 

“I suppose…” He stuck his hands inside his pockets.

 

Bra sat back against the wall. She took a slow breath. Her heart was beating in her chest, unusually fast, unusually loud.

 

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

 

“Well,” Levi finally said. “Have you finished `thinking it through?'”

 

“'For once,'” she added. “Thinking it through… for once.”

 

“Yes.” He gave one of the legs of the bed a light kick. “Are you done yet?”

 

“Not really.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “But I believe… I believe we should wait. Like good little boys and girls.”

 

“But… we could do it. At least,” he added, “you could do it.”

 

“Maybe. But out chances will be a lot better if we wait. What if it doesn't go the way we want? I couldn't do that to you. Or to Father,” she said, and he closed his mouth, his protest unspoken. Bra held his eyes with hers and lowered her voice. “If it were only you and me we might leave him with little choice at all.”

 

Levi looked away. “This sucks,” he muttered.

 

“True.” Bra looked at her watch. “Remember that we're still doing something important. We'll have to observe everything closely tonight, and learn as much as we can.”

 

“I know,” he said. “How much time left?”

 

“Fifteen minutes.”

 

He giggled suddenly, and covered his mouth with his hand. She saw his cheeks redden, before he turned his back to her and sat down by the table. She understood how he felt, and for a short moment she almost giggled herself. Fifteen minutes. It was absurd. It all was.

 

The moment passed, and she closed her eyes, leaning the back of her head against the wall. Behind her eyelids she saw a small glowing light, as if the sphere she had made was burned into her retina.

 

Father, we'll see you soon.