The Mirror Loom
Lisalu

"If you tell my mother," said the boy kneeling beside the reflective blinking globe in the empty workshop. "She’ll take this away from me and lock it up in a capsule somewhere, and yell at me again about how everything I build seems to be the kind of thing you shouldn’t even contemplate theoretically, let alone create as a working prototype." Gita eyed him warningly. "She’ll yell at you too, Skoy-san, for letting me build it in the first place."

The Mastertech of Madran glanced back down at the mathematical theorem in his hands. He shook his head, a brief flash of childish envy shooting through him. He was able to follow the first half of the boy’s equations. Just barely. But the second section, the real meat of the treatise, was… "The problem isn’t that I don’t think it will work," Skoy said slowly. "It’s that, after a certain point, I can see the plausibility of the multi-quantum temporal dynamics you’ve defined here, but I can’t follow the complexity of it. I’ve helped you build this…this communicator, but I don’t know for sure if it will open a reflective window to parallel continuums or blow a hole in the fabric of space and time itself." He gazed up at the seven-sided ring of silver mirrors encircling himself and the boy. They took up every inch of the workroom. Each mirror was three meters high and as wide, each mirroring back a dimmed facet of the glittering orb in Gita’s hands.

"It won’t," Gita said firmly. "And after my parents arrive from Chikyuu tonight, we won’t get another change to test it."

If he’s designing engines like this at seventeen, Skoy thought with another stab of ungracious envy. What will he be building when he’s thirty?

"Come on, Jisan!" Gita bit his lip anxiously. There was just enough of his father in him that the act of begging anyone for anything stung. "You know you want to see if it works!"

"You’re a dangerous boy, Gita," Skoy said severely. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Kassan said her genius and Poppa’s recklessness is a bad combination sometimes." Gita grinned. "Is that a yes?"

The boy didn’t wait for a reply. He touched the power control on the silver sphere and activated the machine. "Don’t---!" Skoy began. Then the words died on his lips.

The mirror directly before of him shifted, rippled like a stone disturbing the still water of a lake’s surface. Skoy found himself staring at the man who had suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror. He knew his jaw must be hanging open like a landed fish. "You---you’re---"

"Me," the other man answered. "Or you. Or---" They both gave a soft bark of nervous laughter, the same voice, the same laugh, uttered in stereo. They were not identical. Not completely. The other Skoy’s skin was fair, not the rusty amber of a son of Madran, and his eyes were blue. But everything else, everything, was…well, like looking in a mirror.

"I keyed the window to beacon to our own ki signatures," Gita said softly, his eyes shining with suppressed excitement. "We---"

A second figure moved into frame inside the mirror’s window. He regarded Gita with a wry half grin. It was Gita, but again, there were differences. This man was not seventeen. He might be as little as ten years the boy’s senior, though some subtle quality in the way he studied them made Skoy think the age difference was greater, maybe as much as thirty years.

"Different timelines," the mirror Gita murmured. "We were born at different times, even though we are the same person."

"Yeah," Gita said. He seemed to swallow and gather his courage to ask the next question. "Have the Arrak-jin shown themselves in your timeline yet?"

"They have," the older Gita said intently. "Nissan and I built this machine to try and learn if anyone, anywhen, knew more about them than we do."

"We know a little," Skoy said. "We’ve faced them and fought them once. It wasn’t pretty." He frowned curiously at the older Gita. "Did you just call me---him---‘Nissan’?"

"We’re half brothers," mirror Skoy said. "Bulma of Chikyuu is our mother, but my father was Raditz and Gita’s is---"

"Raditz?!" Gita sputtered incredulously. "Kassan and Raditz?! As in Son Gokou’s brother Raditz?"

Mirror Skoy nodded mildly, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement at the boy’s outburst. "I take it your Karot has a different mother."

"Karot?" Skoy said dazedly. "That’s short for Kakarott, isn’t it?" He grinned at Gita’s curious expression. "That’s my real name. Skoy’s a nickname Radu gave me when we were kids. It’s a Madrani word for ‘tinker’."

"Kassan told Radu to never call me that in our timeline," Karot grinned. "I think it means something obscene in Maiyosh-jin. What world are you two on?"

"Madran," Skoy said.

"We’re on New Vegita-sei," Mirror Gita said solemnly. "In our timeline, Frieza destroyed Madran."

A second mirror blurred to life beside the first one. Judging from the reactions of the two men in the first mirror, it had manifested itself in their mirror loom as well. Trunks, a long-haired, armored Trunks, stood side by side with a third Gita, both their faces amazed..

"And Kassan said it would never work," the new Gita said smugly. He was older, probably the same age as the Gita of New Vegita-sei. Age was a hard thing to pin down on Saiyans.

"She’s still going to strip the hides off both our asses when she finds out you tried it after she told you not to," the new Trunks smirked.

"What world are you on?" Gita asked eagerly.

"Namek-sei," Trunks said curtly. "Has the Enemy arrived in your timelines?"

"Just the first scouts," Gita said. He shivered nervously as he realized one of the other Gitas had spoken the same words at the same moment.

"They are here as well," Trunks murmured. "Nissan and Poppa beat them back, but Dende-sama says there will be more. Too many to number."

"Nissan?" Skoy prodded. "So…Gita is your older brother in your timeline?"

"Not Gita," Trunks said impatiently. "Romayn, son of Bardock."

"Romayn is Jisan’s brother?" Karot of New Vegita-sei asked with a puzzled frown.

Trunks frowned evasively, eyeing Karot closely. "No…Romayn is Son Gokou. He---it is a very long story."

A third mirror blinked to life, showing a third Gita standing beside a second version of Trunks. Both mens’ eyes were wide with surprise.

"I am…" The new Trunks cleared his throat. "I am Trunks-ou of New Vegita-sei---"

"Yes, we’ve all encountered the first Arrak-jin scouts," Karot of New Vegita-sei said grinning. "How about you guys?"

The new Trunks frowned coldly. "It is not a matter for jest, you fool. Chikyuu has fallen, and a dozen other worlds as well." He raked them all with a dark, haunted glare. "Son Gohan has beaten them back for the moment. He sacrificed his life and the dragonballs of Chikyuu to buy us more time. And still his world was destroyed. The Eldest of Namek-sei says they are still coming, and the Saiyan Empire alone cannot defeat them. You will tell us what, if anything, you know of the Arrak-jin and their weaknesses!"

"What the---!" An angry, strident voice ricocheted through the dead silence that followed Trunks of Vegita-sei’s bleak words, making Skoy nearly jump out of his skin with surprise. "Trunks! Gita! Dammit, I expressly forbade you to---"

She stepped into the frame of the mirror that looked in on the Saiyans of Namek-sei and both her sons fell back before her anger.

Wise men.

She was young, like the Bulma of their own timeline, though surely not in years. She must have used the dragonballs of Namek, Skoy thought. She was beautiful, not a young girl, but a woman in the high summer of her life. Though if the temporal flow of all the timelines in each mirror was consistent---and it must be or they would not be able to communicate without a quantum phase stabilizer---she must be nearly halfway through her eighth decade.

"Kassan, we---!" Every man in every mirror except Skoy himself spoke the words at the same time. There was a short burst of nervous laughter.

And Bulma had drawn up short, gazing around at the mirrors in disbelief. "Oh my..."
Skoy hid a grin. He knew that look in Bulma-san's eyes well. Those brilliantly blue Chikyuu-jin eyes were suddenly shining with a scientist's fascination and delight. "You did it," she said in quiet wonder.

"I did," Gita of Namek-sei gave her a lop-sided grin.

The second Trunks, the hard-faced, armored young king who stood in the mirror of the resurrected Vegita-sei, was looking away, his eyes closed. The man beside him, that darker timeline's version of Gita, was swallowing hard, his entire broken heart in his eyes as he watched her smiling proudly at his other self on Namek-sei.

She's dead in their timeline, Skoy thought with a chill. Either from old age or...something else.

But she had frozen in place now after sweeping the faces of the men in the other mirrors. One hand was pressed across her mouth, her cream-colored skin had blanched to white as she stared into one of the mirrors on her side. The angle was odd, so it was difficult to say which mirror she was gazing into with such shock. She stepped forward, face to face with one silver pane of the web, and reached out a trembling hand. The mirror of the Saiyans of New Vegita-sei rippled slightly and Karot moved forward on his side of the pane, his almost constant smile suddenly vanishing with worry.

"Kassan, don't touch the lattice! It might hurt you."

She lowered her hand, staring at Karot's face through the mirror, into the other world that might have been. Trunks of Namek-sei, her Trunks, took her hand, his solemn face full of concern. Her eyes were suddenly radiant as she gazed through the mirror into Karot of New Vegita-sei's world, shining with a faint glitter of tears.

"Karot-chan," she whispered. "You grew up so handsome."

Karot's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment and mingled amusement. "Kassan, you always know how to make me feel five years old again."

Bulma of Namek-sei laughed softly, a single tear trailing down her cheek. She wiped it away absently and then she fastened those luminous eyes on Skoy. He swallowed and grinning as he saw her take in the physical differences in himself and Karot.

"I'm called Skoy, Bulma-san. My name is Kakarott, son of Raditz and Durira of Madran. I'm the same person as Karot of New Vegita-sei, but...somehow we have different mothers."

She nodded, looking nearly as dazed as Skoy felt. "Gita..." She paused, gazing around at the faces in the three other mirrors.

"Gitas," she amended. "How many potentialities did you allow for?"

"I configured no fixed limit, Kassan," Gita said softly. "But my loom can only support six contiguous links."

"Five," Gita of New Vegita-sei told her.

"Seven," Gita of Namek-sei said.

"Six," Gita of Vegita-sei said unsteadily, his eyes still fixed on Bulma as though she were some angelic shade. His Trunks had managed to look at her for only a moment or two before turning away with an angry growl of grief.

She saw this, somehow knew it for what it was, and spoke very gently to the two men in the mirror of Vegita-sei. "Trunks...Gita, honey. I'm sorry. I know this is hard for both of you."

"No," Trunks of Vegita-sei said gruffly. "It is good to see you smiling and happy and well, Kassan. I am sorry. I am sorry I could not save you from them. The Arrak-jin, they---" He broke off, unable to tell more of the story.

"When they killed you," Gita of Vegita-sei said softly, "Poppa lay down upon your bier and died beside you. You and he were moonbound and he could not live without you. Goten, son of Gohan, told us there is hope yet. He is Son Gokou reborn, sent back to fight this battle with us. He said there is hope as long as the two young mortal gods remain alive somewhere in the continuum of all possible timelines. Do any of you know what this riddle means?"

"Two mortal gods..." She shook her head. "We'll ask Dende. He may know."

Skoy glanced at Gita and the boy shrugged. "We don't have any idea what it means either," Gita said.

"Maybe--"

A fifth mirror blinked to life. It looked in on a great dark room, on a stone dais with a large, barbarically ornate chair...no, throne, perched on top of a short black stair.

"It is done, Ojisama," the Gita within this new mirror said solemnly, almost meekly. He was standing on the lowest step of the dais, his eyes downcast, his head lowered. The man seated on the throne above him grunted an acknowledgment and swept the four active mirrors before him with a quick hard gaze. There was another man beside him, standing straight and proud at his right hand, his face slightly averted. But the face of the man on the throne was...

"Ji---jisan?" Skoy said uncertainly.

"I am Kakarott," said the man on the black throne. "Saiyan no Ou."

"The hell you are!" Trunks of New Vegita-sei said angrily. "Where is my father, son of Bardock?! Where is Vegita-ou?!"

"Dead," Kakarott said coldly. "I challenged him for the throne when he refused to hear my father's prophecies of the Arrak-jin, and he died like the stubborn, hot-headed brave warrior he was. Like a Saiyan should. I would have followed my Prince to Hell and back, but he would not see the coming storm. He would not have led us to prepare for it, and thus doomed the entire galaxy. I am the Legendary. I am the Super Saiyan. And still they come. I cannot defeat them." He gestured briefly at the Gita of his timeline. "This weakling whelp of Vegita-ouji and his Chikyuu-jin concubine built this seeing mirror to seek out some secret one of you might have uncovered that we have missed. There are occasionally times when I am glad that I spared the worthless cub's life." The words were hard and unkind, but Kakarott's face betrayed a faint flicker of pride and well-hidden affection as he glanced at Gita's other self in this timeline.

The Gita of Kakarott's Vegita-sei hid a smirk and only said softly. "You are a gracious king, Ojisama."

Kakarott's gaze came to rest on Bulma of Namek-sei and the cold, threatening visage, set in the stoic hardness of a Saiyan warrior, softened ever-so-slightly. "It is good to see you again, woman." He summoned the other warrior on the dais with a brief, wordless gesture of command and the man moved forward into the light. It was Gohan. A Gohan dressed in the Saiyan armor of a Prince of Vegita-sei...with blue eyes. "The son you died bearing me, the brat you would not be shed of though all the medics told you it would be your death to carry so strong a cub to term---he is strong. A brave and honorable warrior."

Gohan bowed to her, hesitantly, and spoke softly. "Okassama."

Bulma seemed at a loss for words, gazing at yet another son. Then her gaze hardened. "Did you take me as your mate over Vegita's dead body, you son of a bitch?" She said coldly.

Kakarott nodded unrepentantly. "To save your life, woman. Vegita-ouji crashed on Chikyuu by accident and you found him half-dead. You tended his wounds, cared for him, and before the rescue ship arrived from Vegita-sei, the two of you had become lovers. He spared your world for your sake, kept you and the two sons you bore him a secret from everyone except myself.

Somehow, Nappa learned of your existence. How I do not know, though I am sure he became suspicious of his Prince's frequent, prolonged visits to Chikyuu over a period of time. After Vegita's death, Nappa led a purging squad to Chikyuu, to rid the Empire of you and your sons. I arrived almost too late to save you. And too late to save your firstborn, the cub who would have grown into this warrior," he gestured at Trunks of New Vegita-sei. "I took you and Gita under my protection and wed you three years later. Vegita and I fought our last battle alone on an isolated world. I told you only that your Prince was dead in battle on some far world. You never learned it was my hand that took his life."

"The people of Vegita-sei excepted a halfblood heir?" Trunks of New Vegita-sei asked softly.

"Those who voiced objections to my choice of queen are ll in Hell, boy," Kararott smirked coldly. He gazed back at Bulma, his face sobering. "You never adored me as you did Vegita, Bulma of Chikyuu. You never treasured me as I treasured you---the most beautiful, precious jewel in my Empire. But we were friends. I was dishonorable to lie to you, but I could not have born your hate. And all truth be told, I coveted you from the moment I first saw you."

She stared at him, her face devoid of emotion, though Skoy could sense a tumult of emotions clashing beneath the serene mask of her face. "I cannot absolve you of the debt of cho-gugol you owe me for Vegita's death or of this dishonor of your deceit, Kakarott," she said finally, without anger, without a trace of reproach. "Repay the debt you owe me to my sons."

"I do, woman," Kakarott murmured. "Every day." He seemed to shake himself, and that cold mask of Saiyan hardness slid back into place. Gods, it looked so wrong on Jisan Gokou's face. "The insects have taken half the galaxy here. The swarm arrived last year. In a year, Vegita-sei will fall. We are all that stands between the beasts and the utter annihilation of all life." His stony black eyes flickered with the barest hint of humor. "It you were here, Beloved, you would have built some clever machine to destroy them. What have you learned of the Enemy? What manner of weapons have you built to fight them? Your cub by Vegita can build them in our timeline if you give him instructions."

She turned in a complete circle, looking thoughtful as she gazed around at the ring of her sons, a small smile playing at her lips. "Pull out a mini-comp, all of you." She pulled a small notepad comp from the tool belt around her waist and sat down in the revolving chair her version of Trunks had pulled up for her.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Let's get to work, boys. There's a lot to do."

* * * * *