Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

Returning to the quiet coolness of his hut, Gohan spotted a very large object out of place. Since he stared at the same walls every day since the place was constructed, he memorized the position for each object. But this object was brand new. Ones he added over time took a space in his mental inventory, and anything the astronauts brought they would leave inside his hut if it was too heavy for him to drag in. If something had shifted out of place there was cause for concern. But few things ever moved unless he shifted them, unless a rocket had landed, or a quake was responsible.

There were few creatures alive on this scrap of space rock. His whole zone included the entirety of the planet, veiled in its atmosphere thick enough for human breathing. However, it was thin in comparison to the air he recalled breathing years ago. Just on the verge of living on a tall mountain. Mental math worked it to 15% oxygen. The first few days he arrived the breath supplement pills had been something he’d taken.

Curiousity spun the gears in his mind. What was this new thing? Just what specifically did he have to keep warm? Now he had this large thing—just like all the others the astronauts brought—to investigate. Rubbing his hands together he looked at it from multiple angles. Noting it’s dimensions and possible mass. He spied the remnants of a rope coiled by the squat ovoid cradled into a package. Surprise filled him at that moment of the implications.

“What in the universe did they leave?” Gohan gasped, puffing his bangs up with the outrush air. It was then he saw that Yamcha had left a message on the screen of the display.

“Nights get cold around here. I’m sure you know the importance of keeping warm. Just make sure you follow the care instructions, and in time you’ll find a special friend,” he read aloud. The winking emoticon with devil horns made him grit his teeth and snort. It was probably Krillin’s initial idea. Such a thing on a rocket was just contraband.

Only people who made decent money had the allotment on a space rocket to bring such cargo. The regulations they bent for this to happen made him wonder who had forked over the credits for this do it yourself companion kit, complete with egg. He had heard and known about such things. Either a synthetic animal, a cyborg, or a humanoid creature could be contained inside. Not unlike those ancient ‘throw it in water and see what’s inside.”

“Wow… now that’s well intentioned… do they know I’m that desperate? It’s a synthetic. An android chimera of flesh over machine,” he whispered to himself. The Gero brand imposed on a Red Ribbon Logo dominated the screen in the background. Small numbers flickered showing the environmental conditions displayed.

“How much money did they spend?” Gohan yelped.

Hand pressed to the back of his neck, he grabbed the thin foil blanket and tossed it over the thing to keep it warm. Just the illusion of life was a shock. It was different with the plants and his own named machines. They didn’t resemble a pet or an animal, or even an organic friend. It was trickier than cloning something. This was something else which would remind him of a life he was denied access to.

“Icarus, did you SEE what they left me? I’ve got another thing that… what if I screw up and it…” he trailed off as he rested his palm against the generator. “Right, I’ll talk to Bulma about it…”

Brow knit he quickly exited his hut and entered the greenhouse. Green leaves of different sizes and shapes met his eyes. He sat down on the soil and inhaled the freshly released oxygen. Hand pressed to a brown trunk of the largest, he whispered, “They finally did it. They left me a living thing more complex than a plant. What if I make a mistake and it breaks down or dies? I don’t want to ruin something that could…”

All he heard was a gentle rustling as his palm moved the trunk. Sufficient for him to hear hidden words his mind created. “I don’t mean I don’t like your company, Bulma. But all you need is water, my exhaled carbon dioxide, and soil. Plus, you don’t complain about my singing…”

Bulma’s quivering leaves caused by the imperceptible motion of his hand just rustled. She was a very good listener. Gohan glanced up at the sun filtering through her leaves with a forced smile. He then said, “I remember I was only allowed to bring three things. They let me bring you in a small pot of aeoroponic nutrients. And that journal. The last thing, was the set of tools. You’ve grown into a fine young lady…”

She towered over him by 10 feet. He nodded towards some fichus, and a few tomato plants. He chuckled, seeing the tomatoes budding. Any plants could be delivered by well-wishing family sending things as long as they were tiny cuttings and seeds.

Gohan caressed the trunk of Bulma, waiting a few seconds before he said, “Okay, I have this ovoid that contains a life form, a synthetic one. I want to care for it properly… and I’m dying to know what’s inside and how it will fare… so wish me luck…”

Leaves remained still. For a few minutes Gohan regarded her leaves, imagining what she would say in her distinctive voice. “Yes… you’re right… I’m good at researching things. You always did think that… Thank you Bulma…”

“You would tell me to study it, to cultivate it. Just like cultivating my plants. It’s a thing that can be researched. There’s no reason why I can’t devote myself to unlocking its secrets given enough time…” Gohan told her, and himself.

Determined, he rose to his feet and exited the greenhouse. Then he smiled broadly as he came upon the new device, ovoid and taller than he. Against the shell he placed his hand. The warmth flowed through to his skin, pulsing and gentle.

“Welcome,” Gohan told it. “I’m Gohan Son. The only person here on this asteroid. Except for Icarus… who’s my monitoring and overseeing project who also is attached to a steam engine for backup. He tells me if anything of note happens… he’s right over here…”

With a sweep of his arm Gohan indicated the central device that had started out as a steam engine toy. It had become the core of dozens of add ons that included electronics, sensory readouts, and the water heater for the kitchen and bathroom. Icarus was three meters tall, a collection of gears and belts at the heart of a structure wrapped around him that incorporated pipes from the kitchen, and wires that led to the solar panel. Midway up Icarus were installed monitoring computers with a screen that showed him readouts from the greenhouse. Icarus at his top had a thermal battery that the wires from the solar panels ran into. Cables ran from the bottom of Icarus to the light fixtures.

“He’s the heart of this home, and he’s happy to meet you,” Gohan said softly. “I’ll leave him here to keep you company. I have a few more things to do in the greenhouse, ok?”

Gohan patted the egg and exited the hut, closing the door behind him.

**

Later that evening, in the light of encroaching stars, Gohan peered through the windows of his greenhouse. Its unevenly shaped panes of glass and plastic allowed him to view the heavens. With little changes of scenery during the day, he relished their nightly stellar appearance.

Gohan moved from the greenhouse to the low hut where he kept his journal. Once he walked in, he sealed the hatch to the cool chill of night. Starlight shone across the curve of a pale white ovoid. As Gohan entered his dwelling he noticed its solitary presence once more. More organic in nature save the plants he cultivated, he had added it to the list of objects he anthropomorphized. His engine called Icarus loomed nearby, generating steam to warm the ‘nest’ in which it reposed. He found the urge to talk to it far more than Icarus or his plants however, because it represented potential.

Sad and curious, Gohan rested his hand on its smooth surface, feeling the slightly rough yet porous surface. It was warm from the inside out, vibrating slightly because of the action of the humming steam generator keeping it warm at night. During the day, he moved it into the greenhouse to absorb sunlight, then moved it to the hut to keep it warm.

A wheezing rattle caught his attention in the direction of the generator. Icarus’ dials whirled while steam hissed from a popped gasket. Gohan gasped, waving his hands in worry. “No Icarus, now’s not the time!”

Frustrated he rushed over to Icarus and scanned the works with his eyes. He tossed his jacket over top of the egg and shut down the wheezing machine before it belched more hot steam. It clattered and rattled to a stop. Hearing the silence behind its winding down, Gohan heard his own heart pounding. It was the source of heat in the rapidly cooling night. Without sufficient warmth the egg unit could grow too cold.

The batteries in the unit were finite, and Gohan gritted his teeth. He had been working on a solar panel to recharge them, but without its completion he had coupled Icarus to produce heat instead. Nights were only six hours in length, but the sunrise was four hours away. For the past few nights Icarus had labored well. Yet this failure was unseen.

“Damn,” he cursed, struggling to effect repairs. While his jacket could keep the egg warm, the unit could drop a few precious degrees, killing whatever life form was inside. Loathe to lose it, Gohan tossed down his tools and ran hands through his hair. He rushed over to grab his bed blankets before he removed his jacket from atop the egg. Shifting it to the side he found he could curl his body around it and toss the blankets overtop himself and the thing. It forced him to press his ear alongside it and wrap his arms around the girth of it.

Ear and cheek now pressed to its warmth, he could hear a faint thrumming. The movement of fluid swirled and gurgled. A slow lub dub washed through the solid shell, reaching his ears. Like a clock it soothed his mind. Another living creature was truly alive and incubated along with the rhythms of the prisoner’s life. Gohan breathed deeply, in synch to the heartbeat. Warm hope alit inside his heart that had almost grown cold.
**

The next morning Gohan awoke curled up around the egg. He pushed aside dark tendrils of long hair. Just how could he become so attached to this inanimate object? Gohan had experience with making friends from items over the last ten years. His plants at least were alive, but those were grown from seeds easily transported through a weight limit. Plants were essential on spacecraft for food and oxygen. The things he had been left with were food plants to supplement the concentrates that he was routinely brought. One thermistor evaporator provided water initially. Yet now his own inventions to draw water from the soil were necessary to feed his machines and his extra needs beyond basic.

There was water for Icarus, and water for the growing plants. Water for washing that didn't require recycling urine. The solid salts were easy to separate via distillation, and the solar still collected energy from the twin suns overhead. However, at night the rapidly dropping temperature required a boost from Icarus to keep his greenhouse warm. While he sometimes slept in the hut, he would other times sleep in the greenhouse.

“Okay Icarus, I know I need to get up,” he told the machine. Reddish light reflecting off the machine gave him enough of an affirmative answer.

Today was no exception. He rose to his feet to grab his hairbrush, a quick glance into the mirror told him the inset. Long black hair half hung over his face. Dragging the brush through it he gathered it into a handful and secured it in a hair tie.
***

Under the fluttering leaves he pushed the machine with its parts. The egg cradled inside now had plenty of company. As well as the warmth, it and the sun provided. At night, the greenhouse was the warmest place with its trapped heat. After last night's panic, he wanted the egg to have all the warmth it required.

“Bulma, this is a new neighbor,” Gohan said to the tallest tree. “You probably would enjoy having someone else to talk to when I’m not here.”

Only a brief fluttering answered, and Gohan could hear the faint words she must be saying. Over time the imagined voice he drew from memory to match to her was far clearer. Gohan nodded and positioned the egg in its cradle in her shade.

“I know too much direct sun is detrimental, Bulma,” he said to the tree. “Besides, I think this is appropriate.”

“No? Well you want to know why? His name is Trunks,” said Gohan, repositioning the webbing of tiny hoses with small holes inside that ran across the soil of the greenhouse. Trickling irrigation was the most efficient, since subsurface would take too much time and energy to implement.

“Sure, I named him Trunks. Your earth namesake has a son named Trunks. Yes, you already know that, but he needs to hear also,” Gohan chuckled, rubbing the scaly bark of the tree.

“He was just a baby when I was… taken away. He would probably be about ten now. You’d like him, Trunks,” muttered Gohan to the egg.

Was he making a mistake gifting such a name to an unknown creature in the egg? It was the furthest thing from an infant son of his mentor years ago. A representation of a memory of something that would never be. That time before he was arrested.

Only because… only because…

“No, I refuse to go there,” Gohan hissed, clenching his eyes shut. If he descended the slippery slope of memories he would plunge into the morass of regret. It was dark and cold there.

Over his vision of the egg and his plants swirled water. Stinging saltiness arose in his throat which he cleared. Wiping away the tears Gohan felt the emptiness in his gut and let out a snarl.

“No… no… I am here… I am alive… not alone… not…”

For a few minutes he flinched, and the knotting in his guts choked him off. Fists clenched, Gohan wrestled aside the red-hot anger boiling inside him. For a split second, he saw the tree and the egg just as things. Just things. They were just pieces of detritus dumped on him by pilots who pitied him.

“Don't feel sorry for me!” Gohan snarled. Energy burst into his legs which carried him outside the door. He had to get out now. Just in time he raced over to where there were small dents in the landscape behind the greenhouse. Both fists he slammed into a bare patch of ground in rapid flurry. With each blow, he imagined those who sent him here, those who brought this upon him, and himself.

Dust from pounded sand rose in the air and stuck to the sweat beading on his bare arms and shoulders. Gohan tugged at his long hair as he yanked it out of his long ponytail. Tunneling fingers into it he pulled hard. Not hard enough to rip the long ebony mane from its roots but with sufficient force to snap his thoughts to the present.

“Gh!!!! Damn it!!” Gohan hissed through clenched teeth. The darkness of despair rose around him and he hugged himself tightly, surrendering to the frustration. He curled up in the warm sand, so his tears dripped into it for a few minutes.

When the sobs subsided Gohan wiped away tears with the back of his hand. He rolled to sit up, then force himself to stare into a brassy red sky. In and out he inhaled. What time was it? He glanced at the length of the greenhouse’s shadow which reached the sixth mark. Still early in the day.

Again, he was sentenced to another day in emptiness that he had to fill with imagined words. Had to fill with tasks that would tick away time, so it didn't stretch to eternity. Without the interruptions of electronics, he had more time than one person could want.

Time that he could fill. Or just sit and watch the clouds pass by. He had done it when he had first arrived. Yet there were those that needed him.

“Icarus,” he muttered. “I'll go see to his needs.”

Rising to his feet Gohan fixed his hair back into its ponytail. He marched back to the greenhouse and climbed in through the plastic double sided door. It was really a set of plastic curtains that sealed to the sides of the doorway.

“Bulma, take care of Trunks. I’m going to see to Icarus. See you later,” he called out to both.

For a moment, he took stock of the egg in the shade of the tree, then nodded. Bulma was up to the task, and so was he. Satisfied, he turned and exited the greenhouse. Across the ten meters to his hut he traveled. Inside the door, which was a thick one of metal, he rushed over to Icarus.

He touched the now cool metal. The broken belts end that hung lazy and limp pointed floorward. A few clicks of his tongue expressed Gohan’s sadness. He grabbed the loop of spare belt after he tugged the spent one off. Finding the can of oil, he used a dropper to apply small droplets to each moving part. The smell of vegetable oil mingled with grease and the tang of metal. Both chased away the darkness in his mind, allowing him to push it back into a corner for now. Fixing Icarus would at least kill a few hours of another long day.
***

Pen scratched on the paper page of his diary. Gohan carefully sketched a picture of the egg under Bulma’s shade as he sat near in the greenhouse. At the base of the tree the egg still sat in the shadows as the noon sun burned through the glass. Gohan set down his pen and moved the mesh to shadow the plants from the direct rays as he often did. Into position he moved solar cells to charge the batteries for the solar still.

“Sorry about leaving earlier,” Gohan murmured to the egg. “Sometimes it gets pretty overwhelming here. I hope you know what you're getting into, sharing a place like this with me.”

No answer came except the hum of the unit that told him the heart rate and temperatures of the egg and its contents. He turned it over as he did ten times a day. The Instructions specified that. At least in the greenhouse the heat was constant. Why hadn't thought of this before? Maybe because he wanted the egg around Icarus.

Would it even hatch though, he puzzled? If that were to happen...

Gohan grimaced. No, he couldn't fathom that. If he tended to its needs, it would grow like his garden. Unlike other people he knew Gohan was glad he had a way with plants.

Moisture from the greenhouse hung in the air, so Gohan switched on the nearby engine. Fluid burbled through its coils and hummed. Water collected in the small pan that he could use to fill the irrigator. The whole place was in balance as long as he spent time in here. Thankfully the fresher air in here helped him feel less deprived than outside where the air was thin and hot at noon.

A small thumping noise made him question if the pump needed fixing. Again, he heard what seemed like a tapping. Gohan switched off the motor for a second. The whining hum juddered to a halt. Then he heard nothing. Shrugging Gohan switched the engine back on. Machines were better than full electronic systems. Full of moving parts that he could fashion from carved plastic and metal gears.

Another low thump startled him. Once more he switched off the motor and checked it over. Gear teeth meshed perfectly, so it wasn't a fault there. A few spritzes of lubricant later they whirled and chugged with their familiar whining hum. No more thumps. Perhaps it was just cranky.

His stomach rumbled and felt empty. Gohan crossed into the part of the greenhouse in direct sun still, and plucked two tomatoes off the vines. He bit into the first, letting the juice seep down his chin. The sweet tang mingled with umami on his tongue. Fat with fluid, each tomato had far more flavor than the mushy ones relegated to ration concentrates. How many people on earth ate real tomatoes like colonists and prisoners such as he? A return to farming was necessary for any space colonist to survive. Crippling specification gave way to a broad range of skills any colonist needed. Gardner, carpenter, scientist, and cultivator served him well at New Lowell City on Mars. Well before now…

Now that was worlds and time away. Banished to a rock where he was stuck. With no means to leave save his imagination and a rocket that stopped every three months. He couldn’t even stow away onboard it or think to bribe one of the astronauts to take him along. Weight allowances on rockets--15 pounds--would be a give away, and either could lose their jobs for helping a prisoner escape.

Narrowing his eyes to slits, Gohan glared at the floor of the greenhouse. Underneath it he imagined a death ray stare fixated on the heart of the asteroid. This was his island, his cell, and his fate.

He had the company of his trees, machines, and an egg. Inside it germinated some being that would soon become his living companion, but he had no idea what shape it would take. Amid caring for it, his imagination ran wild with the possibilities.

Was it a dragon, like Icarus’ namesake? Was it a dog or a cat? Perhaps it was a large bird that could allow me to fly high on its back to survey the skies.

It was not unlike those ancient eggs children threw in water and the shells fizzed off. Once the dissolvable shell was gone, the child would be left with a toy animal figurine. Granted it was a lump of plastic, but a child’s imagination could transform it into a character that spoke and lived.

Synthetics in their eggs were real live beings. Dipped in organic flesh worked with cybernetic bones and muscles gestated in perfect harmony. They were a must for any colonist who required the company of a pet but couldn’t have conventional animals due to strict quarantines.

****
Another round of smelly oil and grease coated Gohan’s hands. Since the egg had been moved to the greenhouse there had been less close calls, but Gohan was worried. Was the primitive care he was providing sufficient enough? It should be, but if there were any more flubs he would have to remove the egg from the incubator unit. That was something he didn't have spare parts to fix.

Now he debated bringing it back into the place where he had his living quarters. It dawned on him that he was missing an egg. Not only that but he spotted the checkerboard abandoned in the middle of the game he had played with Yamcha last time.

Bright flashes outside the window grabbed his attention as the floor beneath him shook. He moved to the safety of the doorway of his hut. Tools rattled in their boxes along with the tune of clinking china. For only a second the ground swayed and heaved, but Gohan’s heart pounded all the same.

He heard a loud popping hiss from the greenhouse. A distant incessant beep sounded afterwards. Damn it, the quake must have...

Racing to the greenhouse he felt his stomach drop. What if the worst was happening? He almost tore the double plastic lining door of the greenhouse in his haste to get inside. Damn solitude! Who could he ask for help with the poor egg? Nobody. Because there was only him.

It was far too warm and humid. The improvised blinds lay scattered around the egg still under Bulma’s leaves. In the light of the noonday sun the plants were turning brown, the newly transpotted plants were wilting, Gohan dashed over to the unit, glaring at the red and green numbers. One said error, while the other said, “temperature alert.”

A burning smell stung his nose. Panicked, he pulled sheets over the panes closest to the shade needing plants. He switched off the blown dehumidifier, the culprit of the emergency. Wires and parts had short circuited, disrupted by the quake.

“Damn it,” Gohan cursed. He shifted the unit, egg and all, onto its antigrav mode, then pushed it out. It needed to cool down and quickly.

Once inside the hut, he saw the digital readout on the unit say, “shift to upright position.”

Was that the only problem, he wondered. Lights flickered, and the unit power faded. Of course, the battery was dead! Grumbling to himself he fired up Icarus and plugged the unit to it.

All the settings whirled into life once more.

“You're not leaving my side for long,” Gohan muttered, caressing the egg’s side.

**
It took a while for Icarus to charge the units battery. Gohan took small trips between the hut and the greenhouse to make repairs to the shutters. Finally, when they were done, he sat down on his chair.

He set up the checkerboard with its pieces arranged for the game’s start. Gohan then stared at the egg, and the red discs. A small smile came to his face as he asked, “Do you want to learn a game?”

No answer came but the hum of the machine, so Gohan continued, explaining the rules of checkers. It had been a while since he played, and it was soothing compared to the adrenaline rushing of the damaged greenhouse earlier.

Midway in the game, Gohan flinched at a knocking thumping sound that suddenly echoed in the hut. Yet another sound of crackling joined it. From inside the egg he heard tapping along with the thumps. Placing his ear to the egg’s curve he heard fluid thrashing and deafening thumps. The contents were indeed alive!

Ear ringing in pain from the cacophony subjected to it, Gohan jerked backwards. Ground slammed into his backside, which knocked the breath from his lungs. Both hands pressed into the floor behind him, so he sat sprawled. The entire egg was splitting in half.