Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Sing No Songs ❯ The important thing ( Chapter 18 )

Chapter 18

 

“How many times do I have to say it?” Bra crossed her arms over her chest. “The people of Earth have no idea who my father is, and they have no idea that I'm here right now. There is no big conspiracy!”

 

“I believe you.” The Reader that called himself Rok stared at her from across the room. “Still, you should get used to saying it, and saying it again and again. The Earth is not a threat. That's the most important thing.”

 

“No.” No... She sighed, a sharp huff between her teeth. “I came to get my father away from your prison. That's the most important thing.” Levi was listening to everything they said, an attentive presence by her side.

 

“You want to save him. That's understandable.” the Reader said, preoccupied, dismissing her words with a wave of his hand. “But remember when you address the Readers that it's your father you want to save. Not Vegeta.”

 

“There's a difference?” She was stalling. She knew the difference.

 

The entire wall behind the Reader was a window, and she kept looking past him, down to the landscape of lights in the city below. The lights made her uneasy. We're watching you, they seemed to say. You're not alone, not free.

 

“Vegeta is a criminal, forever linked to Frieza. That's all he is.”

 

Bra nodded, a slow up and down motion. “And my father never killed anyone - until you showed up.” She felt her mood lighten, her ever present hope taking hold on her once again. She tried to push the hope away. The Reader was manipulating her, she was sure of it. She was silent for awhile, trying to weigh her words. “It's not too late,” she finally said. “What if I explain to the Readers that my father is not…who they think he is?” Yeah, like that would work. She was blind, and the ground she walked on was slippery as ice.

 

Rok shook his head. “You can make them sympathize with your situation. You can even make them regret Vegeta's death. I know some of them already do-”

 

“They do?” It filled her with dread, the way he talked about her father as if he were already dead.

 

“Yes, the Readers believe a lot of things, and some of them believe that killing criminals is something that can be avoided - even when it comes to Vegeta they will try to avoid it. The point is, the Readers might have been ready to leave him alone, but that won't happen now. Not when he is almost dead. Not when they have made an enemy out of him.”

 

Bra took a deep breath, her throat tight.

 

The Reader took a step closer. “Would it interest you to know that I was one of those that insisted that we should leave Vegeta alone? Don't bother with him, I said. It will only cause trouble. And here we are, in the middle of trouble. Of course, whatever happens there will always be those that say that leaving Vegeta alone would have led to an even worse crisis in the future.”

 

“I don't understand.” There were a lot of things she didn't understand. “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Why? I'm being as frank as I possibly can. I need you to help us, Bra Monique.”

 

Bra opened her mouth to correct him - actually, my name is just Bra - but she changed her mind. Why should it matter? It had been a lie, but it had come from her, her own thoughts and her own memories. She could be Bra Monique from now on.

 

“You need them to doubt their fears,” the Reader said. “Knowledge will make them do that.”

 

“All the cards on the table,” Bra murmured.

 

“Cards?”

 

“Never mind.”

 

There was a silence, while they stared at each other. Deadlocked, it felt like, in a battle that was leading nowhere.

 

“Listen,” the Reader said, his voice tense. “The Law is a shifting, insubstantial thing. Many of the Readers wouldn't agree, but it's true, at least most of the time. You are what you serve, and they are the Law.”

 

Bra bit her lip, staring at the floor, her mind working hard, trying to analyze what he had said from every angle. She was close to something important, she felt. What did it mean, the Readers were the Law?

 

Bra looked up and immediately backed away a step. When had the Reader gotten so close? His eyes were brown, she noticed, a warm and soothing colour. How ludicrous.

 

She straightened her back.

 

“You want me to play two roles at once. I can't be a… a peace envoy. Not right now. You're killing my dad, don't you get it? I don't want to fight, but if I have to I will.” Her voice was calm, but weak. She was trying to gather all of her conviction, only to find it weaker than ever. There were city lights back on Earth, she thought, and they were watching her too.

 

“Yeah!” Levi gave a small whoop when she fell silent. Supportive indeed. She put a hand on his arm and looked at the Reader. Filled with defiance, thanks to the kid.

 

The Reader's face was hard. “You're children,” he said. “Stupid, stupid children. This isn't something that you can fight, like in a tale of tribal heroism. It's much more complicated than that.”

 

“Not fight, but bargain,” Bra heard herself say. “You want peace? Release my father and you'll get your peace.”

 

“Don't talk like that!” The Reader took a step closer and raised his hands to stop her, alarm on his face. “If you do…”

 

It was the first time, Bra thought, that she felt that the Reader was completely sincere, that she was seeing something other than all those masks he had been putting on. He really was deeply worried. Seeing it should have made her glad, but it didn't. His fears were her own.

 

“The Readers are scared,” he said, as if he was reading her thoughts. “Threatening them right now might be the worse thing you can do.”

 

“It's the only thing I can do,” she said. And she was lying, of course she was.

 

They stared at each other, until Bra broke the eye-contact and looked away.

 

“Let's take a break,” she said. “I want to sit down. Bring me some water, would you?” It wasn't like she knew what she was doing. Might as well order him around and see what happened. The Reader stood still for a few more seconds, then he nodded at her and left the room.

 

Bra walked over to the far wall, where a long row of cushioned chairs was waiting. She sat down, Levi next to her. In front of them, on display like on a movie screen, was the city, the darkness with its patterns of light.

 

Bra had lived in many places in her life. Some she had loved from the start and some had struck her as dreadful and depressing. She had learned though that if she stayed long enough she would grow to like it. The same with people. She might get angry at them, but as time went by the anger was sure to disappear. She'd learn that they weren't as bad as she had thought - she would start feeling comfortable in their presence.

 

She remembered discussing it with Monique - the first Monique. “As it turns out,” Bra had said, smiling. “Everything and everyone is likable”. Monique had protested of course, and reminded Bra about people who caused suffering and torture, and Bra had to retreat, had to tie down her enthusiasm. No, everything wasn't likable and everything wasn't good, and yet she hadn't been able to abandon her original idea. It was, she felt, a lovely idea. She just had a hard time expressing it.

 

She might have used her father as an example, Bra thought. He had done all those awful things, and if he wasn't abhorrent then who was? No one, that's who.

 

“Your water.” The Reader approached them slowly and handed them one bottle each. Bra unscrewed the cap, much like she had unscrewed hundreds of caps back on Earth. Taking a long swallow, she stared at the Reader as he backed away, not stopping until he was standing as far away from her as he could get, his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“Does he seem nervous to you?” she whispered, her lips hidden behind the damp rim of the bottle.

 

Levi looked confused, and then his expression turned into a tentative smirk. “Yeah. Yeah he does.”

 

Power. Bra knew she had it. She was in a position of power right now. A “bunch of politicians” wanted to talk to her, and whatever she chose to say would probably affect a lot of people. Bra sighed. She didn't like power. Power, she thought, was the opposite of freedom. She frowned. That wasn't right. Wasn't the opposite of power powerlessness, to be ruled by others? Her father would have called it weakness.

 

Her thoughts were a mess, Bra realized. If only… if only she had more faith, faith enough to lead an army. And self-righteousness, she thought, lots and lots of self-righteousness.

 

“You think too much,” Bulma had used to tell her, and Bra knew she was right. People had always told her that she was a lot like her mother. She looked like her, and most of the time she acted like her as well. “You have Bulma's honesty,” Gohan had told her once, a long time ago. It was one of those things that stuck to her mind, one of those things that made her feel sure about who she was. She had Bulma's honesty. What she didn't have was Bulma's drive, or Bulma's ability to choose a path and stick to it. Thinking too much could do that to a person.

 

Bra let her breath out in an angry puff.

 

“You alright?” Levi asked in a hesitant voice.

 

“Mm. I was just thinking about Mom.” She glanced at Levi, letting him see the turmoil on her face without reservation.

 

Levi looked away, embarrassed.

 

“Don't worry about it.” Bra reached out and lightly struck his chest with the back of her hand. “What do you think about this guy?” She kept her voice low.

 

“I don't know. I think he wants to trick you into doing what he wants.” Levi had leaned closer to whisper to her, and he shot a narrow glance at the pale-faced man standing by the window.

 

“I think so too,” she whispered back. “Except I don't think he wants to hide it. It's more like he's trying to bully me into it.”

 

“But you won't let him.” It was not at question.

 

“No,” Bra agreed. “I won't let him.” Problem was, she couldn't just ignore all that power she had at her disposal.

 

“It's like he thinks he knows everything,” Levi whispered.

 

Bra nodded. Levi was right, that was the way it felt. Like the Reader thought he could tell them what to do because he knew everything and they didn't. “I think… I think I'll try to bully him for a bit, what do you think?”

 

“Sounds good,” Levi smiled. He was nervous and uncertain, she felt, but he still believed in her.

 

She turned to the Reader and raised her voice. “Would you come over here, please.” She made herself sound smooth and filled with self-confidence, and was instantly obeyed. “Move a chair over there.” She gestured at the space in front of her, showing him where to sit.

 

He did as she had told him, sat down and placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward. “Bra Monique…”

 

“No.” She held up her hand and he fell silent. “Let's try this a bit different. I'll ask you questions, and you give me the answers. Ok?” The `ok' turned her command into a lilting query, but there was no softness in her right then. She felt harsh and unhappy, and she knew that her face showed it.

 

The Reader straightened.

 

“Acceptable.” He clasped his hands in his lap, waiting.

 

“Your name it Rok, isn't it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That's all? No family name?”

 

“That's all.” There was a slight hesitation before his answer. Bra chose to ignore it.

 

“So... Rok. Who am I talking to right now? The Readers, or just you?”

 

“Just me.” His response was immediate.

 

“Why are you here then, why you and not somebody else?”

 

“Because no one is stopping me.”

 

“Explain. As briefly as you can.” She wasn't going to let him hold any speeches.

 

The Reader crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, testing her maybe, by pausing to consider his answer. “It's quite simple, really,” he finally said. “We are a young organisation, with very few rules to control our behaviour. It might sound strange, considering we are the servants of the Law, but there you are. I'm here because I want to be, and because nobody else seems to want the honour.” He smiled. “Besides, I was the first to learn who you were. I have dibs.”

 

Dibs? She was pretty sure the translator had missed some nuance on that one.

 

“And what you want to accomplish…” She paused, looking at him, and he met her eyes without a trace of hostility. “You want me to convince the Readers that I want nothing but peace. And you want me to speak for everyone back on Earth, saying that we have no plans to attack the Galaxy.” She waited, and the Reader nodded in affirmation. “Anything else?”

 

“Yes.” The Reader smiled, a disarming twist of those lipstick-black lips. “I want you to be here when we talk to the children of Vegeta. I want you to work with us to make sure that your assurance won't be a lie.”

 

“Knowing who I am, that's what you ask me to do?”

 

“Yes.” A serious nod, and then the Reader put his hand over his mouth, and laughed.

 

***

 

Levi took a sip of his water. He noticed he was dangling his legs like a kid, and stopped. All this talking was making him impatient. It made him think that this was what politicians did all day when they couldn't agree - just kept talking and talking. Going nowhere.

 

Yes, he was impatient. And he couldn't stop feeling that that they were doing something wrong. His grandfather had wanted them to go home. Vegeta didn't want them here, he had sounded so sure.

 

Levi didn't know if he believed it or not.

 

The Reader was still chuckling, like he had said something funny. Which of course he had. Like Bra would do anything just because he told her to. Levi discovered that he wasn't the least bit afraid, not of this guy in his silly hat.

 

“What's so funny?” Bra asked, but she didn't sound like she wanted to start a fight. More like she was a little bit sad, like she'd rather be laughing than having this conversation.

 

“Nothing really,” Rok shrugged. “I have a strange sense of humour.”

 

“And annoying.” A quick smile crossed Bra's lips.

 

“And annoying,” Rok nodded. He leaned forward. “A smile, Bra Monique, is the best way of meeting fear or distrust. It's the best way of disarming your opponent.”

 

“That's true,” Bra said. They were both leaning forward, like two conspirators, and Levi was surprised to feel a sting of exclusion. “So,” Bra continued in a let's-share-our-secrets kind of voice. “Why do they fear you, the other Readers?”

 

The Reader shrugged. “It's none of my doing. My presence merely reminds them of someone else.” Another smile, really creepy this time

 

Levi looked at Bra and saw her eyes widen in sudden realisation.

 

“Ice-jin,” she whispered, and the word sounded harsh and ugly.

 

“You named me.” The Reader drew a fingertip over his smooth cheekbone, a gesture of fake vanity.

 

“Huh,” Bra said.

 

Levi wondered if he was supposed to know what an Ice-jin was.

 

“And this is a problem with the other Readers?”

 

“It's not a problem with the Law.” Rok sounded like he had said it many times before. “Frieza's guilt isn't mine.” He raised his eyebrows at Bra. “Just like your father's guilt isn't yours.”

 

“Right,” Bra said, softly. She pulled one knee up, her heel on the chair. Staring out of the window. “No matter what anyone might have to say about it,” she murmured.

 

Levi wasn't sure what she was doing, except fishing for information. It seemed to be working. The Reader relaxed, his manner slow and thoughtful, to match Bra's. “I remember how different they were... Frieza and his family. Set apart, like gods.” Rok paused, waiting for Bra to nod.

 

“You ever met them?” she asked.

 

“No, never. But... I remember how proud we were of them, back home. Afraid, yes, but happy to know that they were out there, making our planets rich and mighty on their conquests.” Rok sounded strangely unguarded, lost in memory. “Then, when the news reached us that they had died...” Rok hesitated and glanced at Bra. His mouth opened and closed again. At a loss for words.

 

Levi thought he saw Bra smile, small and secretive, and he was filled with excitement suddenly, because he knew this. Knew it from snippets of stories, things he'd heard when he was a kid.

 

Frieza and his family, they had died on Earth.

 

“When they died,” Rok resumed, raising his voice. “When they died my home became a place of siege. Everyone wanted a piece of the riches.” His voice became soft. “And everyone hated us, really hated us. You understand? For years and years we were fair game. It was....” He shrugged, distress on his face. It was hard for him to talk about it, Levi thought, but he did it anyway.

 

“And then?” Bra asked.

 

“And then the Galaxy came.” Short and simple. “Saved us. The ones who were left.”

 

“The famous Law,” Bra muttered.

 

“Exactly.” The Reader nodded. “The Galaxy won't tolerate genocide, nor war.”

 

“Except when it's the Galaxy that does it.” Levi hadn't planned to speak, it just slipped out.

 

“There is that.” Rok smirked, and his face was a mask again. “But that isn't the Galaxy's failings, only its servants. We shouldn't kid ourselves. What we do matters, and the Galaxy only have what power we give it.”

 

Levi frowned, trying to make sense of that last bit.

 

“Wait,” Bra said. “Wait, wait, wait.” She was on her feet, pacing. “What you're telling us...” She spun around. “What you're saying... is that the Galaxy is a machine?”

 

“Well, yes.” Rok peered up at her, like he couldn't believe that she hadn't known.

 

“Of course!” She pointed at the Reader, almost accusingly, and then shook her hand, gesturing wildly as if that helped her to think. “The Galaxy is a machine, and the Law... the Law is a computer program.”

 

“In a manner of speaking.” Rok looked amused.

 

“It's those Nodes thingies, isn't it?” Bra took a deep breath. “They are really a communication device, to spread the Galaxy all over, to, to...”

 

“Exactly. No voice is faster, nor can reach as far.”

 

“I thought there was something strange about that signal!”

 

Levi was impressed with his aunt, and slightly intimidated by her intensity.

 

Bra sat down, both hands holding onto the edge of her chair. She was staring at the Reader, and it was hard to see what she was thinking.

 

“This is all very interesting,” she said. “I understand the situation better now. But time is running out, isn't it? Go on. Tell us about those Readers we're about to meet, I want to know every one of them.”

 

Rok smiled.

 

***

 

Trunks was sitting by his desk, trying to work.

 

He was scribbling on a paper, working on an outline for a business meeting, but his thoughts wouldn't focus. His mind was somewhere else, planning, thinking, arguing. He'd always liked to write by hand, to help him organise. It usually made everything tangible and easy to handle. Not this time though. The agenda kept changing. He wrote down a number, counting the zeroes, and crossed it out. Bra had found their father, he thought, and Levi was in the thick of it. Trunks looked down at the paper - a mess of crossed out lines. He rolled the paper into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder into the waste basket.

 

Right.

 

He put the pen down, and it felt final and significant somehow. Like he would never pick it up again.

 

One hour later, no more then that, and he was standing with Gohan in the waiting room outside one of the mightiest offices on Earth. Gohan had actually been the hardest to convince - his wife Miriam had agreed at once, surprising him with her readiness to put their lives upside down. But Gohan had his grandchildren to consider, and it had taken at least twenty minutes of talking and negotiation to get Gohan to join him here.

 

“The spokesman can see you now.” A young man put his head through the door and smiled. The cheery, professional smile did nothing to hide his doubt, or the long glance he shot them, wondering who they were and how they had managed to get the spokesman to see them now.

 

It hadn't been easy. Saying that they had important information about the aliens had gotten them nowhere, and being the president on Capsule Corporation didn't hold that much weight. No, in the end it had been the name Son Goku that had made them listen, that had made them sit up and take heed.

 

They stepped into the office. The man inside walked around his desk to meet them. “This had better be good,” he said without greetings or introductions.

 

Grahman Ziegert, the spokesman of the Union of All States, was a big man with a thick moustache and a broad, hard face. Trunks was a bit taken aback by the brusqueness. Every time he'd seen the man on TV he had been soft spoken, a true diplomat. The last few days, Trunks realised, must have been very hard. He guessed even diplomacy had its limits.

 

“We understand this is a bad time,” he said. “I guess things have been a bit... chaotic ever since this alien police came looking for Vegeta.” His voice softened. “In effect holding the whole Earth accountable for his crimes.”

 

“Tell me something I don't know,” grumbled Ziegert.

 

“Vegeta is my father.”

 

Trunks met the stunned gaze of the spokesperson and he nearly smiled. Vegeta was his father. That was the way it was.

 

“Vegeta is a remarkable man,” Gohan said, his voice low and confident. “He turned himself in to protect us all.”

 

Trunks blinked. It was true. His father had done that.

 

“Turned himself in, huh?” The big man blew air into his moustache. “Well, that explains a lot. I guess next you're going to tell me is that Vegeta isn't human.”

 

Trunks and Gohan exchanged glances.

 

“He's a Saiyan,” Gohan said. “Like Son Goku. Like us.”

 

“Like... you?” Ziegert's gaze flickered between them, his eyes a bit wild. Clearly not ready for aliens to suddenly appear in his office.

 

“Well...” Gohan shrugged. “Half Saiyans anyway.”

 

“Tell him about the Great Saiyaman,” Trunks whispered, and grinned when Gohan shot him a dirty look. He felt good, younger that he had in a long time.

 

Later that day Trunks tried to contact Bra and Levi. Last he'd heard they had just arrived at Node City Dania. Bra had been smiling when she brought him the news, so excited to have found the right place, so hopeful about it all. Trunks waited, but he wasn't surprised when he didn't get an answer. For the sake of caution he didn't leave a message, even though he really wanted them to know that he was coming, and that he was sorry that he hadn't been there all along.

 

If he left right now, Trunks thought, he might even arrive before Pan and Goten.