Just a smile
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Part 8
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It took Bulma a moment to grasp Vegeta's stammered words. “Do you mean the strange drink was poisoned?” She remembered, boiling hot, that she had almost drunk from it herself. Vegeta had saved her. Once again.
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With great effort, she managed to get Vegeta out of the bathroom and into his bed. His whole body was hot and dry and his pupils were unnaturally dilated. She searched the on-board pharmacy, but there was absolutely nothing there that could be used against unknown poisons. Making Vegeta vomit would be of no use anymore, it had been too long since he had ingested the poison.
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So Bulma limited herself to giving Vegeta sips of tea and she also managed to get him to swallow the activated charcoal tablets. But there was no visible improvement. He bit his lip bloody to stifle his moan.His fingers tightened around the folds of the blanket with each new wave of pain.
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“He's going to die!” It was as if an ice-cold fist was pressing her heart together. All of their knowledge, their genius, were utterly useless.
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In one of his few bright moments he heard her sob. Every movement hurt, but he turned around with difficulty and saw her tears dripping incessantly onto his blanket.
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"Don't ... give me ... so ... give up quickly!" He gasps. "I am ... a Saiyan prince ... I am ... tough."
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But then the next wave came and the world around him sank in red fog. Bulma put her hands on his, felt how he struggled with the poison for every inch of the ground and she swallowed her despair. She had no antidote on board, but the Phelese did.
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She would fly back and, if necessary, beg him on his knees to save Vegeta.
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With that thought, she left Vegeta alone and climbed to the upper floor.Fortunately, it was relatively easy to program the autopilot to fly back at top speed to where the ship had been.
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Probable arrival time: 30 minutes.
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It was the longest 30 minutes in Bulma's life. She knew that she would have to replace the energy cells afterwards and she didn't want to think about the fact that the slave ship might have long been up and away.
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She went back down to Vegeta. His skin was now an ash gray tone and even his unruly black hair drooped limply. He was curled up in an embryonic position. The pads and sheets were soaked in his sweat.
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Bulma tried to give him some water, but he could only drink a little before the next wave made him shiver all over.
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Bulma washed his body with damp cloths, carefully changed the sheet and gave Vegeta a few more crushed charcoal tablets with tea.It was a nuisance to get him to swallow the stuff instead of spitting it out right away.
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A gong finally sounded, the autopilot's signal that the destination had been reached. Bulma rushed up the spiral staircase, looked at the screen and ... stared in disbelief at the debris field that spread out in front of her. Not much was left of the slave ship.
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Shaking all over, she let herself fall into the chair and buried her face in her hands. Whatever had happened here after their escape, there was no antidote to save Vegeta.
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As strong as he was, even his Saiyan body lost strength step by step and the poison gained the upper hand more and more. What else could she do? Search the many thousands of debris out there in the hope that somewhere a vial with an inscription in earthly language drifted?
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She dragged herself to the communications console more than she walked. The connection to earth was unexpectedly fast.Her parents must have been waiting for a call, Bulma told herself with a guilty conscience.
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"Angel, are you okay too?" Asked the mother worried. Bulma knew that she must be a horrible sight, her face pale with fear and worry, her eyes cried red and her hair totally messed up.
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"So when you're back here, I'll have a serious word to talk to Vegeta," said her father between relief and indignation. "He should at least have given you time to pack."
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"I", Bulma took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. "I would be overjoyed if he could hear your sermon, Papa ..." The tears gathered in her eyes again. She wiped it away and said haltingly, "... but I'm afraid ... he ... he will before ..." She couldn't bring herself to pronounce the word "die".
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"Pull on the strap, girl," said Prof. Briefs. "It doesn't get any better from your stammering, whatever it is.Tell them in turn! "
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Bulma had to smile through tears. He was right. At first hesitantly, then more and more fluently, she related what had happened since her unexpected departure.
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"That doesn't look good, child," her father had to admit. "Neither of us are doctors, but a poison that afflicts even a Saiyan so is not to be trifled with. You should come back here quickly so that a real doctor can help him."
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Bulma rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I already thought of that. But when we got stuck in the slave ship, it dragged us quite a long way. It will take almost 30 hours until we are back on earth and Vegeta won't last that long."
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Again she had that lump in her throat. "I'm not usually built that close to the water," she thought and pushed back the tears.
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"Even if he dies, darling, which I hope won't happen, there won't be these balls and the dragon to wake him up again," asked Prof.Briefs frowning.
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"Not if he has already died, like Vegeta back then on Namek. If he dies again now, the dragon cannot bring him back." Bulma clasped her hands. "Mom, Dad, what should I do?"
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"Unfortunately we can't help you at all," said Prof. Briefs. "I have already started building another spaceship, but it will be weeks before it is finished."
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"He wanted to bring you back with it," said Ms. Briefs to her surprised-looking daughter. "I told him that it wasn't necessary, since Vegeta will take care of you, but it wouldn't have been bad if he could have brought your luggage after you ..."
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A faint smile flickered over Bulma's trembling lips when she imagined her father flying in a second spaceship just to bring her the clothes.
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"What you're wearing isn't really made for you, is it?", asked the mother. Bulma became aware of the tight overalls with the low neckline and the tight trousers. She tugged lightly at the resistant material." No, this is Vegeta's stuff. Mine is still in the wash. "
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When Vegeta's name was mentioned, her throat tightened again.
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"Maybe you ask Gokou," suggested her father. "Maybe someone has some advice."
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Bulma listened up. “Yes, that I didn't think of it earlier.” She took a deep breath. "Can you put me through to Chichi's house?"
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"Sure. Good luck, darling," her mother waved to her, pressed a few keys and the picture turned gray. Bulma nibbled her fingernails nervously. How long did that last? Hopefully Chichi was home.
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It rustled, cracked and finally the screen got bright again. Chichi's slightly heated face looked at her questioningly. "Hello Bulma, are you calling from space?"
<br />"How do you know?"
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"Your mother phoned me a while ago and said that Vegeta took you into space. How are you doing out there?"
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"Not very good at the moment, but that's a long story. Is Gokou around?"
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"He, Gohan and Piccolo are training out somewhere. Should I call him?"
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"Yes please, it is very urgent."
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Chichi nodded and went to the window, opened it, took a deep breath and called out so loud that even Bulma winced. "Gokou, urgent call for you!"
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She had to repeat the sentence three times before Gokou responded. It took a few seconds again until he flew back to the house, took off his shoes and appeared in front of the screen. For Bulma, each of these seconds stretched like an eternity. She felt an urge to go back downstairs. It must have been five minutes or more since she left him alone.What if it was all too late?
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"Bulma, what's up?" Asked Gokou, surprised. "Didn't you fly into space with Vegeta?"
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"I'll tell you another time," said Bulma hastily, "do you know anything that could help against poisoning?"
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"Poisoning? Is something wrong with Vegeta?"
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Bulma bit her lip but couldn't hold back the tears that shimmered in her eyes. "Gokou ...", she tried so hard to pull herself together, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. "Gokou, he has been poisoned and if nobody helps him, he will die ...." Now she had finally said the word. "It is just terrible to see how he suffers. He torments himself so ..."
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"Sounds like Vegeta. He's not someone whose poison can blow the light of life so quickly. Hmm ... let me think. We could collect the dragon balls and ask the holy dragon to heal him. The radar is still with your parents right? "<br />
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"That takes too long, who knows where the Dragonballs are scattered all over the place this time. You don't know any other cure?"
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"Actually only the magic beans ... but whether they also help with poisoning, I would have to ask Master Quince."
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Bulma found hope again. "Are you doing this for me? Right now?"
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"Not only for you, after all, we need every fighter for the battle against the cyborgs ... and above all a warrior like Vegeta deserves a better ending."
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He stepped back from the screen, put two fingers to his forehead, and was gone.
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"Cheer up Bulma!" Chichi had overheard everything in the background. "You know how tough Vegeta is. You just have to believe in him." She frowned. "What does