Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Preface

Publishing is a lucrative business. By the time Orange Star Publishing approached me for a book deal, Groundbreaking Science: A Guide to Ki had already been on the Satan City Times bestseller list for approximately forty-five weeks after its debut—more than I could have ever hoped for. While undertaking that venture had primarily been borne of my daughter’s complaints for more entertaining reading material for her students in Pan’s Fighting Network (PFN), I had little plans after that should the book become a success. Apparently, not only did the research credentials award me full professorship in my department, but also earned my agent calling me during my graduate student supervision informing me that my publishing company wanted another book published within the next three years.

I’ll admit, this caused more problems than it solved. 

First of all, despite the large stack of supporting research, Groundbreaking Science upended the world of physics as we knew it. Challenging common thought has the tendency to make anyone uncomfortable, and rightly so—within the first couple of weeks of publication, I received numerous emails ranging from disbelief, to joy, to outright anger. While one half of the biophysics field lauded my efforts, the other half published their rebuttals detailing my supposed undisclosed sponsorships and relying on metaphysical “frou-frou” in order to push my theories into the professional journals. University politics notwithstanding, another academic war was one of the last things I wanted. But, as my publication team told me over numerous meetings in the university coffee shop, controversy was one of the main selling points of any book, and no bestseller had come away without at least one attempt at a book ban (I am told, as of this writing, at least three secondary schools have removed their copies of Groundbreaking Science from their libraries due to parental complaint). 

The second reason is one of my own design, and something I am, frankly, quite embarrassed to admit. After the publication of “Modelling Ki-Regulation of Cellular Systems within a Probabilistic Framework” in Natural Science (June 804, vol 254), I had, in a sense, let much of my research lag in favor of concentrating on conducting classes, supervising the graduate lab, and other various administrative duties. It does, in fact, come as a surprise to most people who speak to me who do not work in academia, just what exactly my position as a professor entails. When I mention I teach only two classes a semester, I am met with quite an amount of shock and the question just what it is exactly that I do with my excess free time. The fact of the matter is, as a professor, there is very little free time. Classes are but a small portion of my responsibilities and supervising students in their own research rounds out the majority of my time next to administrative paperwork. To make up for my lack of educational productivity while I was researching ki, I quite determinedly threw myself into my students’ endeavors, letting my own personal research fall to the bottom of my to-do list. So when I was asked, during one of those coffee shop meetings, whether I had a specific topic I wanted to pursue for my next book, I honestly came up empty-handed. 

Fortunately, around that time, my wife had her hands full with our charity organization—“the Emergency Relief Effort”—wrangling the recent influx of aid requests we had received from various sources. You see, around this time, New Namek had been hit with their first non-seasonal drought, and clean water had become a bit of a scarce resource. For those of you familiar with Groundbreaking Science, you might remember my good friend, Piccolo—a Namekian himself—and it was from him I had received this news. Whether you believe there is life outside of our planet or not is irrelevant to this preface, and something I hope this book will help you tackle, but considering my family’s strong ties to New Namek, Videl and I thought this would a good venture to concentrate our efforts on. If I could kill two birds with one stone—help a people in need while conducting research that would later become this book—the better. The university chairs, however, were less than enthusiastic.

University politics are a delicate thing, and as anyone in academia knows, getting a fully-funded sabbatical approved is no easy feat. Depending on your research institution, your request can be met with either uproarious support or become nothing short of your tenure’s “kiss of death.” Groundbreaking Science had already eaten up much of my time after being awarded tenure, and after full professorship, I really only had a year of active teaching under my belt, despite my rather heavy publishing credentials. So being told that I was seeking a year’s pay to accomplish charity work after shirking my academic duties rubbed quite a number of senior faculty members the wrong way. Between my disgruntled peers and my small lab undergoing a university-funded renovation plan, my department chair—who, in my absence, would again have to pick up my slack—was less than enthused to approve my application for time away; with a full salary, no less. 

Needless to say, my request for paid sabbatical was denied under the reasoning that I needed a “more proven teaching record”, but after much debate and negotiation—and a promise of a large donation to the department in the future from a friend in high places—it was eventually decided by the board that I would be given a year’s “leave of absence.” So, no pay, but at least I would be free to tend to my research. Fortunately, my travel was, for the most part, funded by a rather generous grant from Capsule Corp, and it would be their technology that would help lay the groundwork for the solution of aqueducts on New Namek.  This research, later, would become the paper I submitted for publication the year following: “Stress Tolerance of Namekian Phenotypic Plasticity During Nutritional Scarcity”, later printed in Natural Science (December 806, vol 275).

My publishing team, however, thought this topic a bit too exclusive for mainstream publication and urged me to make my time among the Namekian people the topic of my new book—Namekians, of course, still being a fairly unknown race of people, despite Piccolo’s presence in battle against almost every major adversary that has attempted to threaten the earth. Considering this shift in topic, you might find Casual Meditation: The Curious Science of New Namek has some differences when compared to information found in Groundbreaking Science—the most telling of which is that, much at the insistence of my publisher, I scale back on my “technical talk” and focus more on my adventures and research among the Namekians. That being said, however, much of the information contained herein does draw on the fundamentals of Groundbreaking Science, so while not necessarily a mandatory read, understanding how ki works in the human body (and the world around it) will give you a better understanding of Namekian society and culture, which—as you will discover—is a heavily ki-based population.

You’ll also find this book is much more narrative-driven than Groundbreaking Science, and while still aiming to provide you with as much information as possible, a story of this magnitude— while still retaining its educational component—does not lend itself easily to numbered sections and sub-sections. Instead, you will find a more linear story that hopefully unfolds with the colorful and rather spiritual facets that make up Namekian culture. Casual Meditation, then, should be seen as less of a textbook, and more as a “supplement” to Groundbreaking Science, because a sentient race being studied for the first time needs to be presented as relatable to the reader, and not just a subject to be examined.

At its core, however, this book is not necessarily about my journey, but of the people who made it so. I hope, through the provided information, interviews, and my own mishaps, you will find a colorful cast of characters whose stories might not be so different than your own, and perhaps—just perhaps—will make you realize we are not so alone in the universe.

— Son Gohan, Professor of Biophysics at Satan City University, and the Great Saiyaman

For Piccolo.

Acknowledgements

This book would not have been possible were it not for the combined efforts of numerous people. Words cannot do the weight of these favors justice, but it feels right to thank them just the same. 

To Orange Star Publishing, who met Groundbreaking Science with so much enthusiasm, and who told me there were people out there hungry for more. To my agent and editor, Kato Akihiro, who reminded me that all information, no matter how technical or convoluted, should remain easily readable to the public, and thus helped me humanize the narrative of my more scientific writings. 

Thank you to my wife, Videl, for so willingly tolerating my year’s leave of absence. I know it is not easy being separated from someone you love for so long, only to next see them locked in a room, furiously scribbling out their research notes in order to make publication deadlines. You have, since our childhood, shown nothing but your utmost support of me, and for that, I am grateful. You are my rock, have always been my better half, and I only hope to one day be even half as strong as you. 

To my daughter, Pan, who entertained me for lonely hours on a far-off planet with her stories of her PFN students for one half of the year, engaged in long-distance video calls just to “make sure [I] hadn’t died yet,” for the other half, and for also making transport to and from New Namek that much easier by saving billions in fuel for interstellar travel. I am proud of what you have accomplished more than you know. To Trunks and my brother, Goten, who—in addition to Pan—lent much-needed manpower in order to help build the new aqueducts and repair the old ones. To Bulma at Capsule Corp. for providing the raw materials and schematics for New Namek’s watercourses, and otherwise planning out a sustainable resolution with my research when I could only come up empty. Thanks for listening to my half-baked ideas and turning them into viable solutions, for civil engineering is clearly not my forte. 

And, of course, I must give a substantial—if not total—amount of credit for the information in this book to the people of Namek whom, without, my research would not be as thorough as it was, and turned much of my speculation into fact. Scientific studies do not lend themselves well to solely theory, and I’m grateful how willing New Namek’s population was in entertaining my many questions. 

To Moori, for opening up his world to me, and explaining to me the more nuanced details of Namekian political and spiritual leadership in a way a casual observer would not be able to experience. It is not easy for a complete stranger to walk into your culture without feeling like a specimen in a lab, and I thank you for sharing your culture so graciously with me so others can learn. To Pulmori, who provided any accommodation I could ever hope for in his village, and—despite his insistence—letting me live as authentically in Namekian culture as someone from Earth possibly could.

Special thanks go to my good friend, Dende, who answered some of the more embarrassing questions regarding aspects of Namekian biology and coming-of-age without batting an eye, and—much to my horror—kept going. Thank you for long days spent reading my drafts, offering your feedback, and contacting me at ungodly hours of the night back on Earth to tell me “just one more thing.” Thank you for filling the awkward silence during scheduled interviews, keeping the conversations going, and acting as the go-between when words in my language didn’t translate well to yours. You provided a veritable font of knowledge, and are far and beyond deserving of the title of Earth’s guardian. This book would not be half as informative without your input. 

And finally, to Piccolo. My mentor, my teacher, and otherwise my moral compass in life. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey after much pestering, being the proverbial “lab rat” for some of my more unpleasant tests, and—of course—being the exception to almost every rule laid out in this book. New Namek needed your strength more than you know, and despite only being able to answer the most basic of questions when I started this project, your presence as I conducted my research was a welcome distraction to the struggle of being a foreigner in a strange, new land. Thank you for watching me struggle to learn written Namekian while brushing up on your own, and thank you for giving me tips on how to make communal meditation sessions just a bit more tolerable for someone as impatient and rash as myself. Without you, this book would have ceased to be. Thank you for everything.

About the Author

Son Gohan is a Professor of biophysics at the University of Satan City. Eager to pursue his dreams since childhood, he graduated valedictorian from Orange Star High School and later UoSC. He received his PhD in Age 786, aged 26, for his work with Professor Junkyou on his thesis, “Modelling the Self-Regulation of Cellular Systems within a Probabilistic Framework,” before being offered tenure-track and a permanent position at UoSC with the Department of Biophysics in Age 792, where he continues to work. In Age 804, he published “Modelling Ki-Regulation of Cellular Systems within a Probabilistic Framework,” which would lead to the internationally-acclaimed best seller, Groundbreaking Science: A Guide to Ki.

An accomplished martial artist at a young age, Professor Son is well-known outside of academia as being the former alter ego of the well-loved superhero, The Great Saiyaman, since age 16, before hanging up the title in Age 792. He was succeeded by his apprentice, Papayaman.

Professor Son lives with his wife, Videl, and his daughter, Pan, splitting time between their homes in Satan City and the Mount Paozu Mountain District.  Together, they helped found the charity and volunteer force, “the Emergency Relief Effort,” which brings much-needed aid to people in need, no matter where they might be.

Casual Meditation is his second book.

Chapter Text

1 INTRODUCTION: Finding a New Home

“Take not what you wish of the planet, but seek what the planet wishes of you.” —Ancient Namekian proverb.

This first chapter is dedicated to my mentor and best friend, Piccolo, who finds his world just as strange and alien as any of us.

When you first arrive on New Namek, you’ll always wind up with an inadvertent case of whiplash. First, you notice the air. It feels thin and stuffy on the average person’s lungs and tastes vaguely of salt, as if you’ve been swimming in the ocean too long. Next, the skies. Everything seems too green and hazy, as if trapped in an extended forcing house, and the moisture in the air sticks to your skin and clings thick and heavy to your pores. Sweating almost feels counterintuitive. And then the jet lag hits, probably later than anyone expects it to. Despite this being my third or fourth visit to New Namek since I was a young child, your brain never fully gets used to the idea of traveling 41 million kilometers in a blink of an eye, and coupled with the substantial amount of G’s placed on your body during interstellar travel, what astronauts have lovingly dubbed “space motion sickness” lingers for days after your feet initially touch solid ground. Embarrassingly, following my arrival, I found myself quite unwillingly married to a very specific set of bushes near my host’s home, revisiting the last couple of meals I had most recently consumed.

But after the unpleasantness fades, mostly you’ll be struck with an overwhelming sense of awe and wonder. While you’d be hard-pressed to find the description of anything but busy space stations and urban alien architecture in any sci-fi novel, New Namek is well known for its verdant pastures, sparkling lakes and oceans, and quaint cabbage farms tended to lovingly by its inhabitants. You’d be surprised just how closely this strange new world resembles Earth.

I’ll be the first to admit that, this not being my first venture to New Namek, I already had some semblance of what to expect, yet would find myself filled with some sense of esteem towards the planet that some of my best friends had grown up upon. New Namek lacks much of the ongoing hustle and bustle most of us would find throughout our daily lives, and without a sprawling urban infrastructure as touted by many of our own industrialized cities, one would find the planet almost eerily similar to our most fruitful farmlands and rolling hills of the Mt. Paozu district. Despite it being generally accepted that 200 billion stars exist in our immediate galaxy alone—twenty percent of those classified as “sun-like” and thus capable of supporting life—when I presented this observation to my colleagues back on Earth, I would find myself met with a substantial amount of general disbelief. After all, out of the 4,302 planets that astronomers have theorized could support life, 1,284 of those have a confidence level of 99 percent or greater, and only speculation leaves behind a fraction of those that support sentient life. As human beings, we know that, by sheer probability, that sentient extra-terrestrial life must exist, but outside of anecdotal evidence—most of which many scientists have deemed suspect (my own experiences included)—few have tried to contact us. In this chapter, I aim to explain how New Namek is capable of supporting not just sentient life, but also an active, thriving culture.

1.1 New Namek’s Position in the Milky Way

The first thing you should be aware of when I refer to “New Namek” is that, to the majority of the planet’s population, their planet is still inherently “new” to them. While I could spend the entirety of this textbook explaining why this is so (and—perhaps—this is something my publishers may demand of me later), the bare bones reason is simply that, as of December 24, Age 762, the Namekians had no planet to call their own. The events leading up to this are as heart-wrenching as they are fantastical, though an astute reader who is familiar with the material in Groundbreaking Science should be able to piece together the story with enough coherence to surmise that, yes, much like my father’s home planet, the then empire-builder Freeza blew it up—though with much less politically-motivated intentions in mind.¹ With this knowledge in hand, it is reasonably correct to assume that New Namek is, indeed, an entirely different planet than what most Namekians are familiar with. A year following this disaster, the Namekians then colonized a planet similar in atmosphere and environment to their own and have called it home ever since.

For those of you who are located in the far southern hemisphere of earth and fancy yourself armchair astronomers (or just consider yourself well-travelled), you might be familiar with the constellation Centaurus? Centaurus is considered one of the largest constellations, and is home to one of the brightest globular clusters and largest stars we can see from Earth. This constellation is home to a star system known as α Centauri (or more popularly known as Alpha Cen) that, in its own right, looks like a single celestial body to the naked eye. We’ll talk about why this is important to New Namek’s ability to allow life to thrive on its surface later on in this chapter, but for now, just know that Alpha Cen is home to not just one star, but three, making it a triple star system—a rather unusual and quite unique feat for systems that are hospitable towards the needs of extraterrestrial life.

Figure 1.1: A simplified map of the Centaurus constellation and the Alpha Centuari triple star system highlighted.²

When the decision was reached that the Namekians would colonize on a new planet after their original planet’s destruction, the biggest challenge came from actually finding a planet that would suit the Namekian’s needs. You’ll learn about those specific needs in later parts of this book, but as a baseline, they needed to find a planet that what astronomers dub as being “Earth-like,” meaning it fulfills the basic conditions that makes a planet habitable, and thus supportive of life: a comfortable distance away from a star or star system similar to our sun, a surface made of rock, large enough to have a molten core and, by extension, have a protective atmosphere to hold specific gases such as carbon dioxide and nitrogen that help keep the planet’s surface warm enough to support bodies of water.

Cue the consideration of Alpha Cen. The Namekians had discovered, far more quickly than we did, what astronomers had already suspected: the triple star system of Alpha Cen proved itself to be very rich in habitable zones—lending itself an incidence that the Namekian population could very well establish their new homes should they discover a planet within said zone. You might remember a handful of years back when scientists discovered the planet Proxima Centauri b? This planet is located about 4.2 light-years (or approximately 40 trillion kilometers) from Earth, and is the closest known exoplanet in our solar system.⁴ A couple years after its discovery, it was hypothesized that this planet would scarcely harbor life because its stellar wind pressures exceeded 2,000 times that of Earth’s solar winds. Would many a scientist harbor quite the amount of disbelief if I told them it was this planet that would become the New Namek.^{5 6}

However, just because New Namek can support life does not mean that it is inherently “like Earth” in its environment, and is home to many environmental differences that affect how the planet’s environment is developed, as you’ll learn next.

¹ It’s important to note that due to its distance, here on Earth, we’re fortunate enough to still see the light from this now defunct planet. For those of you curious enough, you can view the original Namek in all its glory March 4–12, right smack between Chertan (θ Leonis) and Regulus (α Leonis), and directly northeast of Jupiter’s position at 11pm. Namek will “officially” be extinct from our view sometime in March, Age 812.

² Students first learning astronomy at UoSC often ask where Earth is in relation to this map before quickly figuring out the answer on their own. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

³ You might be wondering why this is important. While our Earth most certainly has a molten core, we often gloss over its role in our planet’s hospitability. A molten core provides a source of geothermal energy and sets up a magnetic field around the planet that protects us from things like outside radiation. The larger the planet, the longer it can generate heat, thus providing part of the environment that would make life sustainable. A hospitable planet is essentially built to protect the life on its surface, not the other way around. That is why, no matter how much infrastructure we attempt to build to make other planets hospitable, they will fail unless the planet meets the minimal requirements to sustain life, anyways. Unfortunate, but also pretty darn cool.

⁴ For those of you not familiar with this term, exoplanets are defined as a planet outside of our solar system that orbits a star. Exoplanets don’t necessarily have to have the ability to support life in order to be defined as exoplanets, since most planets aren’t hospitable to those needs anyways, but upon the discovery of the first exoplanet, this is what spiked humanity’s curiosity in seeing if there were habitable planets outside of Earth.

⁵ If you’re searching for New Namek during your stargazing escapades, I’m sad to say that you won’t be able to see it with the naked eye. It has an apparent magnitude—or its brightness as observed from Earth—of 11.13, making it fairly abysmal for observation purposes as far as celestial bodies go. You’ll need a telescope to view it.

⁶ There’s been some concern among my friends and family if I should publish the exact name and location of this planet, because I am, essentially, opening New Namek up for possible unwanted attention. Believe me when I say that outside of Earth’s own special forces, New Namek has its own form of protection among its population—as you’ll later find out—and that invading this planet is one of the last things you’ll want to do. We’re watching, and we’re watching closely.