Contradicting Mission

Part 10

Finding a table was far easier than most of the other tasks Gohan had endured that day and the one before. The eatery was a simple seat-yourself type of number with a built in buffet and more than enough tables for the limited amount of people in the room. Sunow and Gohan found a simple but clean table close to the eatery and before the Aeesu-jin had a chance to even sit down the boy had been whisked away by the sweet smells of food.

Carrying a plate, over-productive salival glands, and a stomach that was indeed bigger than his eyes, Son Gohan had all but forgotten the rancid smelling mess hall. This was heaven. Here, he was happy. Here, he belonged. He stabbed a strange looking but good smelling type of food that resembled a crepe. Making his way around each table, he filled his plate with a beautiful smelling first coarse and, snitching food off his own plate as he went, made his way back to the table.

Sunow's eyes widened as he saw the heaping amount the boy had. Son Gohan certainly didn't look like his stomach could anatomically expand to fit it all down, but these solid-eating, warm-blooded off-planet aliens were always a surprise. And this kid seemed to be in the fore-front of this view. What a wierd kid.

The boy ate what lay before him as quickly as politeness would allow. Even in his starving state, he managed to chew his food, not slurp his noodles, and not wipe his mouth with his hands. It was amazing for Sunow to watch, as not a single speck of food escaped the boy's fork, not a drop of melted butter to a crumb of a muffin. Every molecule of fodder made it's way safely and efficiently to the boy's mouth. Astounding.

"Son Gohan," the Aeesu-jin said, waiting for the boy to finish swallowing before speaking--he didn't think he'd otherwise be heard over the crunching and munching. "What do you know about your three friends criminal record?"

The boy blanched. Calling Freeza, Bojack and Garlic 'friends' was like a contradiction in terms. "What do you mean?"

"Do they behave as criminals? Do they deviate from acceptable behavior, or break social sanctions of any sort?"

Gohan paused to ingest a few bites of some off-green vegetables, chewed thoroughly, swallowed, and said, "In my planet's normal terms, they've probably broken just about every law written. But I admit that I don't know about Aeesu laws. May I ask, is murdering illegal here?"

Sunow's eyes widened, "Indeed it is! We can't have peace if one Aeesu-jin is out killing another."

"What about people that aren't Aeesu-jin?" the boy asked quietly, "Is it illegal to kill one of your slaves?"

Sunow was quiet.

"If an Aeesu-jin killed me," Son Gohan went on, "Would it be breaking the rules?"

"No." It was all the Aeesu-jin could say. He knew he would think it a crime to kill a boy like Son Gohan. But what about anyone else? You can't base murder on a person's character. It was true that slaves were worked, beaten, starved to death everyday. They weren't all adults, either. Children, like Son Gohan. In this perspective, Sunow suddenly felt extreme shame for his people's behavior--a feeling he was not accustomed to and he drastically did not like.

"Then I don't think any of them are criminals in that sense. I know they've killed many other kinds of aliens. Destroyed whole planets. But as for crimes against Aeesu-jins....well, I don't think so."

"But they are violent? Dangerious?"

"Yes."

"Would they kill an Aeesu-jin if they were in a situation that such an act might be a solution?"

"Probably," the boy tilted his head back slightly as though he were trying to get a different perspective of Sunow, studied him, inspected him. "Why are you asking all this?"

The Aeesu-jin let a stream of air out of his lungs. "I've been put on a very pricy case. If I tell you about it, you must swear to die with it in your heart, never having uttered it to anyone."

Gohan leaned forward across the table, pushing his plate out of the way and curling his tail around a chair leg in anticipation, "I swear."

The conviction in the boy's eyes was encouraging. Sunow leaned forward to meet the boy, closing the distance between their foreheads to half a foot.

"There has been a series of.....brutal....murders lately. Extremely violent. We have no leads, no suspects, no clues. We're entirely stumped."

Gohan nodded his head, eyes urging the Aeesu-jin to continue.

"What makes this case even worse is that all of the victims were extremely high in the social ladder, government officials, the big dogs. Were not talking the local weaklings, here. Prestige is only half of power, and these men could easily take nearly anything thrown at them."

"So, like any good on-planet, you've decided to suspect an off-planet. And since I assume we're some of the only off-planets around, you naturally look to us as the most likely murderers. And with large, strong-looking people like Bojack, it makes it easier to peg the blame on us."

Sunow's tounge danced around behind his teeth like a bird, but he could not catch hold of it.

"I don't really blame you. I don't doubt that if they were hired to, they'd kill those Aeesu-jin just as surely as the real killer did."

"You don't think they did it?" Sunow managed to conjecture.

"They couldn't have. They've been with me since we arrived on this planet the night before last. None of them have been out of my sight until just now when we left. It's impossible."

"When did you hook up with them? Not long before arriving here, I assume. They could have been on the planet before they joined forces with you and commited those haneous acts. In fact, it would fit. No murders were reported all day yesterday. Isn't that at least a little suspicious?"

Gohan put his elbows on the table and supported his chin on his palms. How could he possibly explain to Sunow that Freeza, Bojack and Garlic were all from six hundred years in the future, and before that, had been dead? The boy was having a hard time not spilling everything and letting the whole truth about their mission spill across the table.

"Sunow-san, we have reason to believe this planet will be targeted and destroyed sometime very soon. I can't tell you how, or when, but the whole reason we are here is to put a stop to it before it happens."

Sunow looked down at the table. Either his kid was telling the genuine truth in all it's glory, or he was the single more talented lier this side of the galaxy had ever seen. When the Aeesu-jin looked up again, he saw that the boy had returned to the buffet to refill his plate, his tail lashing behind him in expression of some strong emotion Sunow could not read.

When he returned the second time, the matter was left dead for better digestion.

To Joru Le'armont, planet Aeesu was a stinking death pit.

Standing at one of the only upper-most windows of the generally underground Aeesu-jin civilization in one of the only levels that could make a normal alien comfortable, he did not really notice the beauty of the purple and pink sun rise. He was colorblind like all the other species of his race, but even if he did see the radiant neon colors, swirling about on a cosmic canvas, it would have ment nothing to him.

The Tahch-jin saw beauty with their hands.

They saw everything with their hands, used their unique sense of feel to enjoy all the pleasures of sight, smell, hearing and taste through the textures and varieties of the objects that met their palms. They possessed all these senses as well, but such were only used for their primary function.

Joru only used his amber eyes to see. Only used his pointed ears to hear. Only used his abrubt, slightly pugged nose to smell. His forked tounge only informed him if food was too salty, or too sweet. But no such functions were used for pleasure. The Tahch-jin took their pleasures from touch alone.

Joru lookes at his hands, at the short, white hair that grew along the backs of them, at the inky-black nails that lined them, polished to look like gleaming drops of black oil. Turning his hands over as though they were priceless instriments, he scrutanized his soft, velvety palms. The thinner, inner fur gleamed with vibrance; the pale, white skin underneath barely showed through. Satisfied they were clean, he looked over his shoulder.

On a table on the other side of the room, a small rock sat. There looked like nothing out of ordinary about it. A simple piece of stone, a dirt clod that could have been tracked in from nowhere and was just waiting to be swept up and put in a garbage bin. And to any of the Aeesu-jin's on the planet, or to Gohan, far, far below totally unaware of Joru's existance, or to just about any other living thing in the universe it was nothing more than just that.

But they were not Tahch-jin.

Joru and his brother had found the stone drifting about in space on the far side of the West Galaxy. It could have been a mere chunk of an asteroid. Smashed free from its big brother from an impact, perhaps. It didn't really matter. Joru had wanted to expiriance it himself, to feel the memories that lingered on every existing thing, see its travels. So they collected it.

But it wasn't just a sliver of rock knocked free from a comet. Wasn't just your average rock. It had once been a small part of a proud planet. And the memories that lay dormant in that rock spoke of such vitality and beauty that its eventual fate tore at Joru's soul. That planet, once magnificent and proud, had been destroyed, blown into dust and floating depris set to drift forever, forgotten. Even worse, it had been destroyed intentionally.

Joru wrapped his soft, white hands around the small stone, feeling its texture, waiting for the more intense feelings to come. It never took long. The pain. The rock felt the pain of its planet, of its inhabitants. The rocks majesty had been torn apart and mutilated, reducing it to the mere pebble that lay on the soft cusion of the Tahch-jin's palm.

It had been the Aeesu-jin. They were the destroyers. Why they did it didn't matter. Didn't they realize what they were doing? Didn't they feel the pain they had sewn into every molecules of that planet? Kami, of coarse not. Such clairvoiance was privy to only advanced civilizations.

And now, Aeesu-jin, it's time to reap what you have sown.

He set the stone down and quickly washed his hands. They had to be clean.

"Still practicing your fanatic hygene routines?"

Joru didn't even bother turning around. He knew his brother would be standing there, leaning in the door way or against some wall. How he got into Joru's private room was irrevolent when it came to Henning Le'armont. It was just something he did. Joru washed his hands, Henning appeared out of no where. Twins were strange that way.

Drying his hands on a cloth he was positive to be sanitary, he allowed himself to face his sibling. It was so odd how alike they looked. Indeed, they were not identical, but the similarities was shocking. Both stood at a height of a good six feet, a shock of aqua blue hair running down the center of their heads from the top of their forehead to the nape of their neck. A gentle white fur ran the coarse of their bodies, stopping only on their lips, around their eyes and--if their boots were removed to see--the bottoms of their feet. The skin around their eyes was a bluish color, ending in stark contrast to the pearly whites of their eyes.

"How many?" Joru asked.

"Fifteen from yesterday. We're looking for the next target. We have yet to find Heng."

"What are you doing about the bodies?"

Henning pealed back his lips to reveal rows of snow-white, flat teeth. Perfect teeth. "What does one do with corpses? Do you want us to bring them here?"

"Kami, no!" Joru said indignantly. He would have to wash his hands again, "But are you just leaving them where they're slain to be found?"

Henning leaned his head back against the wall in absolute indifference, "That's the trend."

"Honestly, brother. You're as bad as they are. I'm horrified that we're related."

"Like wise. But you need me here. Why else would you have asked me for help?"

Joru had no answer.

"It's because you don't want to get your perfect hands dirty. You don't want any blood there, because you can never wash blood away. Ever. Have you ever killed someone, brother? Ever felt the memories of blood on your palm? No? You've never lived. You've never truely lived. C'mon, you and me. Let's blow this little mud ball up here and now. Then we'll collect a few more rocks and fly off, nothing lost."

"Just stick to the plan. This is my situation, please, please, just follow what I say. This planet will go soon enough."

Henning was gone. It was like that with him. Entering from some unknown place and vanishing like smoke when there was nothing more to say.

Joru Le'armont washed his hands again, making sure they stayed white and clean.

The way out was just as bad as the way in. The smell of the putid death-trap of a mess hall tried to tear its way into Son Gohan's intestines and forcefully steal his freshly eaten food from him. Somehow, however, he managed, though by the time he had made it through the food-encrusted exit, every hair on his tail was standing on end and it took quite a bit of smoothing and rubbing to get them to go back down. His tail fur had never stood on end before, it was wierd. Why, he wondered, did it do that, anyway?

Either way, soon, both Sunow and he were once again traveling down the well light hallways, and things seemed to be working out right. In his genial mood--caught up on sleep, metabolism begining to adapt, and a fresh meal in his stomach--Gohan was even considering mentioning Bojack's eating needs as well.

The halls were empty in this section, leaving the Aeesu-jin and the Saiya-jin the kind of quiet that really induces thinking. And as he thought, the boy continued to keep track of the turns he took. Three more rights, two more lefts......

And suddenly, everything seemed wrong. No questioning it, the very air around them screamed of discontent. Something horrible was here. Both of them slowed down, exchanged glances, and advanced slower. Gohan caught the smell first. Not much farther down the hall, the first visual signs were seen. Red. Or what was once red, hung on all the walls. Blood. Dried, crispy, darkened from exposure to air. It was heartily splattered.

Farther down the hall, they found the body. It was an Aeesu-jin, or was. The remains were brutally abused, torn, beaten, the head reduced nearly to jelly. All around it were smudgings of red, grasping hand prints that marked the victim's last movements. In the battered remains of the rib cage, a blood-stained emerald green sash could be made out.

Sunow approached the body and leaned over it, trying to get a better look at the sash to try to identify the it, as the face was too badly damaged to recognize.

"Duke Furaz. Kami. He's linked tightly to Backlash, and they wanted me to find the killer before Furaz became a target. Guess I was too late. Kaldu is going to eat me alive for this," Sunow said, a quiet fear for his life welling up from deep inside. They might even blame him. He could be killed for this. And there was nothing he could do about it. What about his children?

At the thought of children, Sunow suddenly realized Son Gohan's presence. Finding the body had disoriented him. Kami, a little boy isn't supposed to see dead things! It could hurt their tender minds! Darting his head so fast it cracked his neck, he looked at the boy with a strange sense of parental concern tickling its way around between his lungs.

Son Gohan's face was pale, and hundreds of things seemd to flash before his eyes as a speed that baffled Sunow's mind. Fear, oh kami of coarse there would be fear. Horror, discust, revilement. All those Sunow could understand seeing, and all of those were evident. But so was a strange looking shadow that seemed to transform the teen's body into two split images, both living in the same body. One, a tiny little boy, younger than what his years should be able to show. The other, an old, withered veteran, trying to live his life as though he had never faught in a war; his medals of honor stashed away up in the attic if they weren't burried in the back yard to be worm food. Surprisingly, this cloud also transformed the boy's normally enthusiastic, but polite voice to that of one hollow and indifferent.

"Such brutality."

Sunow could only agree as he rushed off to call the coroner and someone to remove the body.

****

Once the professionals arrived, the body was cealed away in a black body bag and removed for study. What must have been twenty men were given the unpleasant task of cleaning the extensive mess while Sunow and Gohan were questioned, analized, recorded, and thoroughly intimidated, and, three hours later, released.

They walked down the hall way in a different kind of silence. This silence also was one that could make one think, but the only thoughts are those of questions that had no answer. It just wasn't fair that violence had to exist.

Though Gohan hadn't been keeping track of the time, he still managed to number off the turns he took; all the while making a mental note about where the body had been found. Kami, no matter how many times he'd seen dead people, it still affected him, lingered with him. He really was weak.

Sunow gestured between Gohan and a door to his sudden left. He had been so caught up in thinking and counting and mentally slamming himself, he had forgotten that he was even going somewhere.

"This is Dr. Koda's personal office," the Aeesu-jin said, his voice drifty. Gohan didn't know if the drifty sound was his own ears in shock or Sunow just not paying attention to his tone. It didn't really matter. Right now, he just needed something to make him forget what he had just seen, and a good talk with the good doctor in a good office was just the ticket.

The boy nodded, "Are you going in with me?"

"Yes," Sunow still sounded drifty, "My meeting with Backlash is in an hour. Kami, I think they might kill me for this."

Gohan wanted to swear to the Aeesu-jin that he would protect him. That he would chase away all those fears, and foes and evil little sneakers that crawled in the back of even the basest of minds. But the boy didn't have the energy. The bashed in corpse had eaten away his enthusiasm, leaving him a dry, weary feeling inside. He didn't have the passion or conviction to convince another that everything was going to be all right, because inside he was having a hard enough time convincing himself.

Either way, he swore to himself that he would try his best to protect Sunow and his family, and that's where the truth in a swear really counts, anyway.

The office was freezing, and Gohan was not surprised. It seemed the more important the establishment, the colder it was inside. It was annoying, but Gohan was glad that the cold momentarily whisked away his thoughts about the body. The receptionist behind the desk looked up, eyeing Sunow first then the boy.

"Son Gohan?" He asked.

"Yeah," the boy said.

"You're early, but the doctor is free. Go on back. May I help you, sir?"

"Oh, no," Sunow said, taking a seat on a bench, "I'm with Son Gohan. I'll wait for him."

"Very well, then," the receptionist said, "Go on back, young man. Third door on the back wall."

"Thank you," the boy said absent-mindedly, and followed the quick directions to the back of the room, located the door he wanted, and entered when it opened for him.

Inside, it was hardly different than the doctor's office he had been in to get his check-up. The sink was on the other side of the room and the table of tools was empty; other than that, the rooms were identical. The examining table in the center of the room was more of a chair, built so it could recline or straighten at the doctor's order, the white tiles that lined the cealing, walls, floor and every cuticle inbetween. And oh, the smell of anesthetic and disinfectant. How could anyone forget that.

At one of the tables, the doctor was leaning over a microscope. He seemed unaware of the boy's presence, even though Gohan was sure the door made its usual swish sound, and in the quiet room it must have been audible. It didn't matter. That reasoning seemed to be working for the boy more and more. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Kami, couldn't he be paranoid instead of indifferent? He was sure that some time soon he would rush head first into the person/persons who were going to destroy this planet and totally forget about it, because he was too busy applying his new logic. It didn't matter, it didn't matter, it didn't matter.

He crossed the room, his feet padding silently on the tile floor and his tail lazily curling and uncurling behind him. He leaned over the doctor, trying to see what was so holding his interest. He couldn't make it out, the doctor's considerable posterior blocked any view of what he was observing.

"What are you looking at?" Gohan asked curiosly, leaning over the table to try to see what the doctor had under the microscope.

"Oh, Son Gohan!" The doctor said, startled, "I didn't hear you come in! Welcome, my boy."

The boy smiled, somewhat taken back by the doctor's behavior. It seemed more open, downright friendly. Sure, couldn't an Aeesu-jin be a friend? Oh, good. His paranoia had returned.

"This is amazing," the doctor said, shiffling through a few disks of thin, fine glass, "Come look here. Hold on a second now.....here. This sample you see under the microscope is a perfect example of an average DNA pattern. See all the little globs of mishapen red blood cells? I'm sure you know it's from the average amount of blood clotting, scarring, growing, healing, cell reproduction and what-not one does through their life."

The boy looked in at the sample. Yes, that was indeed what he'd seen in all the blood cells he had studied--and he had studied more types of blood than probably any scientist, though it had taken nearly an hour to convince Piccolo to allow his blood to be studied and Bulma had to make Vegita give up his. It had proven long worth the effort, however, as Gohan had descovered yet another field that fascinated him. DNA, RNA, blood samples, white, red, sickle, genetics, lineage, it was all an extremely interesting field and with a great mentor like Bulma and full support from his mother, he went all out in persute of it.

Now, here it was, paying off as he applied it in a situation he had never considered. Odd how life works, he was discussing science with an alien seven hundred years in the past and he hadn't even formed and published his first thesis yet.

"Yes," he said, twisting the focus knob to see the cells better, "Little abnormalities like that can be found in the blood of anything that has blood in it. I don't think there's a person that exists that had never had their skin broken before."

"As we were taught," the doctor said, nodding. He slid a different film under the microscope, "Now take a look at this one."

The boy took a long time studying the second sample, adjusting and re-adjusting the focus, squinting, bending over to hold his eye close to the eye-piece, then pausing to pull back as though somehow the distance from the lense would affect his view point. He paused his study to yawn and stretch his back, standing on his toes, reaching his hands as high above his head as they could go and arching his tail. He rubbed his jaw, then returned to look again.

And still, the only words he could manage to say were, "It's perfect."

"Funny you should choose those words," the doctor said, leaning over to look at the sample again himself, "Because that's the exact same thing I said when I first saw it, and it's still the only thing I can say about it now. Did you notice how there is no irregularities? No split cells that had clotted, no bits of dead cells? This sample is as clean as a new born infants if not cleaner. It must have come from a person who's never had their skin broken in their entire life."

"Who did this sample come from?" the boy asked, his forehead wrinkled with thought, his tail squirming behind him in near knots as though it were an animated towel trying to wring itself out.

"This perfect sample came from you, Son Gohan. That's why I called you here."

The boy's body stiffened, his reply was a small exhalation as he attempted to speak but nothing came out, and even if he was capable of sound, his lips and tounge would have shaken their heads as his commands. He looked at the sample's structure again.

Now that he was looking, it really did look like his DNA pattern, but there was definatly something different about it. All the things the doctor had mentioned, 'the little globs of mishapen red blood cells? I'm sure you know it's from the average amount of blood clotting, scarring, growing, healing, cell reproduction and what-not one does through their life-' were gone. He hadn't even recognized his own pattern, because the one he knew of was so full of sliced red blood cells, streams of quickly moving blood trying to carry all the healing properties needed to knit bones and reshape cartilage--all ways present, even when he was in no real need of healing. He had always assumed his body was still trying to perfectly fix all the broken bones he had suffered through-out his short life. Since bones never healed properly, he always assumed his body always would created more bone-sealant.

And then it hit him. Kami Larkas had healed him, hadn't he? All of his bones had knit, kami, every last one of his very cells must have been shaped and reformed and healed to their peak capacity in health. It was accually an incredibly interesting predicament, and the boy wanted desperatly to start a sudden and thorough investigation about himself, giving it the entire works from a full-body x-ray to a retina scan and cell-by-cell evaluation.

Oh, but kami, what could he tell the doctor? How could he possibly explain why-

"That's not all," the doctor said, and went across the room to remove two samples from seperate petre dishes. Gohan could not see what the samples were, "Here, look at this one. This skin sample--you remember when I graphted some skin off of you, right?--is from the same person as the first blood sample I showed you. Please take a look."

Feeling slightly dulled, and suddenly wishing he were anywhere else but here, the boy obediantly looked at the first sample of skin.

"See all the hair-thin lines on it?"

Still unable to locate his voice, the boy managed to locate the small, white lines all over the sample, as well as small bits of other dead skin and what might be a mole or scar of some odd sort.

"Natural wear-down of the skin. Gentle scars, if you will. This sample was taken from a sixteen year old Saiya-jin who had voluteered to work for us half a year ago. Scratches like that would have to be evident on anyone whose ever had any expiriances with fighting or sparring or sports of other physical activities."

The boy's tail twisted around his leg as he searched for a suitable explanation--truth or lie, truth or lie.......

"Now," the doctor said, trading the sample with the other he had retrieved, "Let's take a look at this one."

Gohan knew what he would see before he even looked, but somehow his eyes were at the viewing lense and his fingers were focusing it before he realized what he was doing. It was perfect, this sample.

"As you can see, there are no scratches on this one. One might even think this sample was taken from a new-born baby, however, further analysis would conclude that though the skin is nearly flawless and perfectly new, it is far more durable and resistant to outside forces than the first skin sample."

Gohan's mouth was dry and he felt like he was swallowing grit. Truth or lie, truth or lie.......

"You are aware that this second sample is also from you, correct?"

The boy nodded and said, "Yes," though his voice cracked, turning it into 'y-Es.'

"Do you have some reason your cells are in such perfect shape?" Was the doctor being suspicios or just curious? Everyone on this planet seemed to think he was an odd kid, so why not use that? Why not blame his incredibly physical health on his human half? No one here knew about Earth, or humans, or their biology. It could work.......

"Does your planet have a Kami?" The words came out instead of the lie he was brewing. He damned his truth-telling lips to eternal punishment in hell-fire. Why couldn't he just be allowed to lie for once?! Damn conscience!

"A Kami?" The doctor paused in thought, rubbing at one of his rounded cheeks, "Some say that Heng is this planet's kami, but I know that isn't true."

Gohan widened his eyes, "How do you know that? From what I've heard, no one really knows what Heng is-"

He stopped when he saw a sudden look of shock creep across the doctor's face, a look of dread as though he had just witnessed Death itself come galomping through the doors of his office. He had mentioned that he had connections with Heng, knew what Heng was, or at least wasn't, enough that he might have just endangered his position as a doctor, his respect through-out the community and perhaps his life. Gohan wondered if his face had done that moments earlier when he felt like he had been found out.

"My samples," the boy said, trying to divert the conversation from the doctor's nearly revealed secret, "The reason my samples are so unmarred is because I was healed by a kami."

"Your planet has a kami?" the doctor asked, his eyes still shifty as though he expected the walls of his office to come crashing down and hundreds of murderous Aeesu-jin come swooping in from without to destroy him for speaking of Heng.

"Yes, but the one that healed me was from.....a different planet."

It was true, but for some reason it still felt like a lie. Damn, stupid conscience.......

The doctor must have seen the mental tug-of-war the boy was waging with himself and, shaking his head in confusion, asked, "Son Gohan, why are you on this planet, anyway? You just don't seem like you belong here. You're a free alien, right? Why not just leave and go home to your planet and enjoy your childhood and grow into the scholar you're destined to be?"

Gohan lowered his head. He trusted this doctor, felt like they were on the same side, but what could he say? With a final mental shrug, he decided that since he had told Sunow at least the meatiest part of why he was there, he may as well enlighten this Aeesu-jin as well.

"Would you believe me if I told you we knew this planet, planet Aeesu, was going to be destroyed sometime soon?"

Slipping around the question the doctor asked, "Who is 'we'?"

"The people I'm here with. Bojack, Garlic and Freeza. Would you believe me?"

The doctor sighed, paused to look through the lense of the microscope to examine the sample again and finally said, "I can't disprove what you think. No one knows the future."

Except those that are from it, Gohan thought.

"But why are you here?"

"We're here to stop if from being destroyed."

The two looked at eachother for quite a while. Finally, the doctor moved forward and put his large, meaty hands on the boy's slim shoulders. Leading him across the room to the examining chair, the Aeesu-jin said, "Son Gohan, you're leaving plot holes. Sit down and tell me the whole story."

The boy obediantly sat on the chair, but said, "You wouldn't believe it."

"If you've been around as long as I have, you would have an appreciation for the abnormal as acute as mine. I've seen some strange things in my life, so open up and try me."

The boy took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, then went into a cut-up version of his meeting with Kami Larkas. Finding himself on the grassy plain, the echoing waves of sound, then the room of black and meeting up with his three 'companions.' Then on to explain how the Kami had told them about the destruction of the planet and the healing. The only thing he really left out was that it involved time travel. As far as his tale was concerned, Larkas still wanted the planet saved to protect his dimention, but how it would affect it was left vague. Gohan had learned at a young age that playing dumb about things was alot easier than trying to come up lies.

When the tale was done, the two stared at eachother for a while. Somewhere along the line, the boy had drawn his legs up onto the chair he was sitting on, wrapped his arms around it in a subconscious attempt to sooth his aching nerves. For some odd reason, he had a really bad headache, a throbbing, pounding thmp, thmp, thmp right in the center of his forehead. It was probably just undue stress. It was nothing to worry about.

He twined his tail around his ankles and tugged absentmindedly at one of his armbands.

"Son Gohan." At the mention of his name, the boy made tentative eye-contact, "I admit your story is very difficult to swallow-" the boy's face wilted "-but I believe you."

Gohan blinked in surprise, "Huh?"

"And if this really is the truth, it is dire that this threat be reported to Heng. I'll contact him as soon as possible to see if I can get him to see you."

Unable to find anything more to say, the boy said, "Thank you."

To be continued...........