Chapter 6 (alpha? beta?)

So I finally managed to poop out another chapter! Still probably a lot of room for improvement and change but I think this helps get at the main meat of the story a little better. Still sort of dancing around what exactly the androids are for and such but we'll get there. Hopefully it's just interesting and not antagonizing. :P

Chapter 6

Frieza was not a patient man. Smoke tendrils dispersed through the air at the end of an expensively rolled, lit cigarette. It had been several months since the Kold family had last had direct contact with Dr. Gero and the lack of communication sat raw on his nerves. His orders had been fairly straight forward: create cyborgs that he could control. He could only afford to threaten, bribe, and kill so many people before it caught up with him. It initially hadn’t been a problem to do as he pleased but a certain Yakuza prince had been snooping.

Vegeta had been more quiet than usual before Frieza sent him to monitor Dr. Gero and when Vegeta was quiet, something was up. Sending Vegeta out of his sight hadn’t been Frieza’s favorite idea but he begrudgingly agreed that it would at least put some miles between him and what Frieza assumed he had been sniffing around for. Evidence of his father’s demise wasn’t readily available but the closer Vegeta physically was to the scene of the crime, the more likely he was to find clues; time-tabled be damned. So off with him to check on the good doctor’s progress like some yakuza nanny.

The small, diminutive looking man finished the carcinogenic crutch with a final puff and snuffed what was left out in a gaudy crystal encrusted ashtray. Part of him hated the Ouji’s brat for being so well cared for. Born with a proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, Vegeta hadn’t known real hardship like Frieza felt he should have if he was to be a leader. For all the wealth and power Frieza may have amassed, he still hated the rich and politicians of the world. They were all the same low-born vermin who thought they were superior only because of the station of their birth allowed it. How many times had Frieza been trampled on by those same types of people? People who had no idea how to live beyond making a demanding call to a butler or underling. People who were touted as being above and beyond your average rube regardless of how lackluster and base their intellect was. People who, for the right price, could be bought and sold as easily as ice cream in summer.

Frieza would be damned if he would see a brat like that under his wing without some rite of passage.

It hadn’t just been that Vegeta's father had been in his way or that taking over the Ouji faction would benefit him monetarily either; it was a way to toughen Vegeta up and make him more like the man he ought to be——a man like Frieza. Weathered with hardship and seasoned with adversity, the gauntly colored man saw himself as an ideal example of what a great leader was. He was decisive and intelligent, with enough experience in the world to have made him savvy at the art of deception and manipulation first hand. Plucked from the lower bowels of society and thrown into a high society world that took no pity on him; he hadn’t expected the lashing of his new adoptive parents the first time he felt the cat of nine tails dig into his flesh. He was young and foolish then but learned quickly by his sixth year what would set them off and where they hid important things like medications and household poisons.

Rubbing his left arm absently through the finely tailored gray suit jacket he wore, Frieza grimaced involuntarily thinking of old wounds. The action was for a fraction of a millisecond if anyone dared to stare at his face too long; which no one did if they wanted to live.

Thanks to his own beginnings and subsequent youth and young adulthood, Frieza was going to make the world a better place. Starting with his own country he was going to dismantle it piece by piece and replace it with a system that was equal. True freedom for everyone. A clean slate. If anyone knew of his real intentions, they would thank him when they realized what he was going to do for the people of Japan, nay the world. The troubling thing was that it was starting to take longer than desired and Frieza wasn’t a patient man.

***

Bulma was giddy with so much glee she was practically shaking. Dr. Gero had invited her to help him work in his lab on his latest project——androids! Real, life-sized, walking, talking androids. These must have been a product from the blueprints he had been sharing with her over the past couple of semesters.

Entering a nondescript gray building, which was located only a few blocks off-campus, Bulma felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. The anticipation was palpable to her and she relished it knowing that the reality of what was to come would surpass the already overwhelming sensation. Apart from a few extra layers of security, Dr. Gero's lab seemed very similar to the one she and her father shared at Capsule Corporation. The only difference was there was a slightly mechanical smell mixed with the sterile smell she was used to, something like if a mechanic's shop met with a hospital ward. It wasn't unpleasant but it certainly was a weird combination.

Bright white lights greeted her as she made her way back to the correct room where Dr. Gero was already elbows deep in his work. Having deposited her personal items in a locker outside, Bulma was empty handed and eager to help the good doctor with his ground breaking work.

"Hi Dr. Gero! I got here as soon as I could."

Swiveling his head towards the sound of Bulma's voice, Dr. Gero gave a genuine smile underneath his white mustache.

"Ah, Bulma! Good to see you dear girl. Come in, come in! I was just getting to the nerve receptors." Not pulling his hands from their delicate work on what looked to be a large piece of liquid leather, he instructed her which tools to grab and where to start her work from. Two pairs of hands would be most useful for this delicate kind of work.

"This is fascinating Dr. Gero." Bulma marveled, her eyes shining like crystals. "I would never have thought creating such a realistic synthetic skin was possible. Planting micro receptors in the base material instead of trying to attach local receptors individually is pure genius. Not to mention how much work it should save us later!"

Dr. Gero smiled and briefly wondered if the sort of warm fuzzy feeling he had for Bulma in his gut was what a father felt for his children. He always felt the same sort of pride whenever a project of his was completed and it made him a happier man to be able to share this kind of joy with another brilliant mind.

For a while the two scientists worked quietly and efficiently, saying nothing but what was necessary. Both of them being so engrossed in the project helped it progress quickly and within two hours they were almost done when a phone rang from inside Dr. Gero's pocket. Glancing at the screen's caller ID prompted a gut reaction of dread to surge throughout his hand. It read Vegeta Ouji.

Sucking in a quick breath, he pasted a business smile on his face and excused himself from the room. He was not going to answer a call like this around Bulma. Even though he was requesting her help, he wanted to keep her as far away from the reality of the situation's circumstances as he could.

Bulma glanced worriedly at the door the stout doctor had walked through. When he glanced at the caller ID his already pale face had become an even worse pallor with all the red from his face rushing immediately away leaving nothing but blue and yellow hues behind. She had never seen the doctor react like that and while he was a brilliant mind, she didn't consider him a great liar.

Placing down her tools on a sterile tray, Bulma stripped the latex gloves off her hands and made to follow Dr. Gero. If there was something bothering him, she wanted to be of help to her mentor. Some might call her nosey but Bulma could become fiercely protective of people she deemed important in her life, and Dr. Gero being her mentor definitely fit under that category.

The sounds of Dr. Gero's aged voice was muffled through the door so Bulma couldn't readily make out anything from across the room. As she crept closer to the door, snippets of the conversation on the other side began to come through. Including a name she was not expecting the doctor to say.

"Vegeta...it's not...more time...I...the androids...Frieza and...money...don't worry..." 

Bulma's mouth pulled into a small frown. What did Vegeta have to do with these androids she and Dr. Gero were working on? She knew Vegeta was a student of his and that there was something strange with their relationship, if going by that incident in his office last week was any kind of indicator. Bulma didn't have enough information to connect the dots and, judging by Dr. Gero's reluctance to even answer a call from him in front of her, she doubted she could just come out and ask him. It's not like her and Vegeta were on the best of terms either. While he hadn't collected his self-imposed favor from her yet, she wasn't exactly sure she could successfully talk to him without it ending in a shouting match; there was just something about the transfer student that got under her skin.

By the time the door opened again, Bulma was already lost in thought trying to decipher what could be the matter. Thankfully she wasn't leaning towards the door anymore so while she couldn't be accused of overtly trying to eavesdrop, the doubt was clearly there in Dr. Gero's eyes. Bulma smiled and played it off the best that she could.

"Ah-ha!" She said, seeming to come out of her reverie. Feigning innocence, Bulma quickly blurted out the first thing that she could think of. "I think chicken will do nicely!"

The good doctor blinked a few times, the look of suspicion on his face was quickly replaced by bewilderment. Tilting his head to the side he prompted for Bulma to explain the statement with little more than a confused sound and half formed "what".

"Chicken!" She repeated again, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear——not too nervously she hoped. "I think chicken will work nicely for dinner tonight."

The old scientist lifted an eyebrow skeptically at the student before him, whom he thought had been trying to listen in on his conversation. He wasn't so sure now, but he couldn't discount the possibility that she had overheard something. Filing away his questions for now, he decided she probably hadn't heard anything of value and made a mental note to be more careful in the future.

Bulma was babbling on about a recipe involving cream and wine or something by the time Dr. Gero seemed to come out of his wariness of her. Good thing too, because she wasn't really keeping track of what she was saying. For all she knew, she could've recited some Shakespeare in her rant. Dr. Gero seemed none the wiser to her overhearing his call or at least played it off that way.

"What do you say we pick up this up again on the next day you get some free time Bulma? That was my client calling and he wanted to see me about an emergency meeting." His smile was grandfatherly and trusting, so much so Bulma almost felt bad for lying to him. Acquiescing to his request, she agreed to another work session later in the week. As she helped clean her work station and gathered her things, her mind was abuzz with questions of what just happened. What did Vegeta have to do with a client of Dr. Gero's? Was that just a quickly fabricated lie like hers? She couldn't see any duplicitousness in his face when he told her. Just how much did she not know and exactly how far down the rabbit hole did she want to go?