#conceptcat

Full-blooded Saiyans have stiff, thick, usually black hair, dark brown eyes and a natural disposition towards low body fat and dense musculature (though not unnecessarily hypertrophic), all of which aren’t out of the ordinary for Earthlings. They are long-sighted, only needing corrective lenses for detailed work, but long-sightedness is not that unusual either. They have sharper hearing, hearing marginally higher frequencies than Earthlings and a far more sensitive sense of smell than anthropoids. You won’t catch them out on that though, they are used to a barrage of sounds and smells and know not to stand out by commenting.

Unusually, Saiyans keep their youthful appearance until very late, being physically thirty until the age of eighty or so and then ageing rapidly (half-blooded Saiyans stay young until fifty at least and counting). On more than one occasion, Saiyan and Earthling couples have been mistaken for parent and child, or father and son as brothers, which is particularly awkward for them. Saiyans can possess a prehensile tail, covered in short, brown fur and reaching below the calf (much like a capuchin or squirrel monkey tail) which would be a give-away, but no-one alive with Saiyan heritage has one currently as the transformation they can induce is particularly cumbersome. Sometimes Saiyans even appear blonde-haired and blue-eyed through another transformation I shall also detail later, though you’d be hard-pressed to find a Saiyan transforming like this in public view - in the past few decades, at any rate. For the time being I leave it as an exercise to the reader to guess why I’m sure everyone’s seen a Saiyan before.

But there’s one part of a Saiyan’s behaviour that is difficult to hide - their eating habits. Ki energy is created from energy released from food. The combination of a Saiyan’s naturally higher level of physical exertion and their constant readiness for battle requiring a huge genki output both necessitate a terrifyingly huge appetite.  

When I say Saiyans can eat a lot, I mean a lot. A standard anthropoidal man needs around two thousand calories a day with normal activity levels. The same person as an athlete in peak condition and maximising their training will need to consume nine thousand calories a day. Saiyans need on average those nine thousand calories just to tick over, twelve thousand if training hard with ki. In addition, a typical Earthling has enough glycogen stores (sugar stores) in the muscles and liver to last around a day before they need to eat again without breaking down their muscle protein and fat for energy. Saiyans carry very little body fat, but are still able to eat their fill and store energy for longer - for around six days should they need to - tiding them over between hunts in the distant past. They can eat the calories required in one (long, but not as long as you’d hope) sitting should the food be available, rounding out at a mind-boggling seventy thousand calories. Even when not feasting, twelve thousand calories a day is like eating every meal six times over.

As you can imagine, that level of food needs a lot of processing and the Saiyan body is equipped to deal with it. They have stronger teeth and as you’d expect a stronger bite, combined with the ability to grow teeth back should one be knocked out or damaged. There’s a myth found in all corners of the Universe that a Saiyan’s bite is so powerful they can chew rocks and glass. From accidental experimentation we can say chalk is a definite yes, but surprisingly no one is willing to test that further.

To digest starches quickly to create sugar for an explosive energy boost, Saiyan saliva has a higher concentration of amylase. When Earthlings eat starches, food can taste sweet due to this enzyme after a few chews - in that regard rices, potatoes and the like are extremely sweet to Saiyans. However, they usually swallow their food so fast the saliva is less used as a flavour enhancer and instead pure lubrication to get food down the throat. To compensate, they are quicker to salivate when presented with food. Baby Saiyans therefore are dribble machines and make very sticky toddlers.

Their stomach muscles can squeeze tighter and contract every five rather than twenty seconds (and this increased frequency of gut movement is reflected throughout the GI tract). The stomach itself can distend far further than an Earthling’s should a Saiyan need to take on a vast amount of food. The acidity in their stomach is far higher, a pH 10-50 times that of an Earthling, settling around a pH of 1. The acid is strong enough to digest small bones that may be swallowed in a Saiyan’s hurry to eat and to create the perfect environment to digest the higher protein levels Saiyans require. Dealing with the increased level of fats and proteins also requires a higher concentration of bile from the gall bladder. This is readily apparent if a Saiyan vomits - which is a vanishingly rare occurrence as it would take something completely vile to trigger an upset stomach, though a drunk or injured Saiyan is more than capable of doing so. The infamous “carrots” found in vomit are actually pieces of half-digested food taken from just beyond the stomach that has been coloured with bile - Saiyan vomit then is usually a more vibrant orange.

(I probably shouldn’t have included that tidbit, but it was an interesting observation I seemed to have underlined heavily in my notes, so I feel obliged to my past self to include it.)

Due to the volume of food processed a Saiyan’s muscles and liver can hold far higher quantities of glycogen than an Earthling’s. The Saiyan liver is also larger for this reason (with a slightly smaller, more efficient small intestine to compensate for space), big enough in fact to convince Earth doctors the Saiyan has severe cirrhosis of the liver and requires immediate treatment - one of many reasons they tend not to attend public medical services. Saiyans can tolerate a higher range of blood sugar levels and rest above an average for Earthlings, their levels seemingly hyperglycemic at times which would cause blindness and more for Earthings at prolonged exposure. Their liver processing speed means getting a Saiyan drunk is a challenge (ethanolic drinks existed in Saiyan culture as on Earth and so they possess the correct enzymes to process it). Thankfully the task is not impossible, one just needs a very potent drink downed very quickly and the effect would hit fast, though not last as long. Whiskey-glass shots are their best bet for a short black-out.

This higher toxin tolerance also extends to some medicines. A higher dose of medication is needed to maintain an effective concentration in the body as the blood is cleaned quicker. This is a problem as some doses will have no effect on those with Saiyan heritage and hospitals will not prescribe “dangerous levels” of antibiotics and other drugs. Even with medical professionals who understand some Saiyan biology (and I hope that number has multiplied after this), dosing for a Saiyan is difficult, so like most people Saiyans would prefer not to get sick in the first place. Luckily their anti-bodies are quick to work, and for physical injuries Saiyans are quick to scar and heal. Noticing a bruise blossoming and fading within a day or two on someone is a strong indication they might be a Saiyan.

These adaptations to cope with a traditionally rough-and-tumble life are all very well and good until you try to hide on a world that can’t know of your existence.

I suppose the reason why I’m going into so much depth on Saiyan biology is partly for the enduring medical record, partly through my own scientific curiosity and partly - well, mostly really - because I am Saiyan. Half Saiyan half Earthling, to be precise. Surprise! Please don’t be alarmed or upset at the deception, I did try to leave some hints as we went. My heritage is where the name “the Great Saiyaman” comes from, even. …Maybe I’m being a little too flippant in my disclosure, but experience has taught me there’s no easy way to approach this.

My heritage is what I was alluding to in the previous section with my family’s long distance vision; Saiyan eyes were born for fighting and chasing, not for reading and dexterous work. Only in the past few hundred years Saiyans were gifted advanced technology by other aliens and had a use for regular close-up work (maintenance and the like). With interplanetary travel open to them, most followed their calling and became mercenaries, so goes the story. In truth though, planet Vegeta was subjugated by an empire builder named Freeza whose personal strength and menace scared even the Galactic King and their forces (you didn’t think there was interplanetary travel without a bureaucratic system in place already, did you?).

Freeza ran roughshod across most of the galaxy, his “company” purging planets of human life and selling the minerals and other life to the highest bidder. Only if he found a use for the human lifeforms did he allow them to live until they outgrew their usefulness, and his personal army of Saiyans, growing stronger with every fight and whispering of the legendary Super Saiyan who would rise up to depose Freeza and his family, eventually became a liability to his pseudo-rule. Thus he personally destroyed all but a few in a single planetary explosion. I know realtors aren’t much liked on Earth, but be thankful they don’t hold a candle to Freeza.

Three remained in his employ as soldiers. In reality they were trophies, one of whom was the crown Prince - Prince Vegeta. One Saiyan named Kakarot - and we’re not sure why when everyone was ordered to stay on planet - was sent on a purging mission as a more than capable toddler just before planet Vegeta’s destruction. He ended up on Earth and lucky for our home suffered a head injury, forgetting his mission before he could do any damage. He became a docile, sweet (yet terrifyingly strong) boy, adopted by a martial artist named Son Gohan and given the name Son Goku. He grew up in the great mountains and forests of the south-east, living on his own after his Grampa Gohan passed away.

He lived in isolation until aged 14 when a 16 year old Bulma, daughter of Dr Brief, stumbled across him one summer. I say stumbled - more she drove into him, he threw her and the car across the road in retaliation and she tried to shoot his surprisingly bullet-proof head in self-defence but… semantics. They travelled the world together after that. The world owes a lot to their chance meeting.

Whilst Bulma and the friends Dad made journeying over the next few years definitely noticed there was something special about him (he even trained with the Earth’s then appointed Guardian, a Namekian named Kami - again you don’t have to believe me), people just assumed he was a strange kid. Some Zoomorphic people or Teratoids do indeed have the strength of many and, due to the tail Dad sported in his teen years, everyone assumed that was the case with him.

It wasn’t until I was four years old that the truth came out, and only then when my biological Uncle, one of Freeza’s remaining Saiyan henchmen, finally arrived to collect my father. He was expecting a planet cleared of human life, not to find Dad settled down with a native. As I explained before, the situation was difficult, and… it did not end well. A year later the other two Saiyans arrived and Vegeta barely left with his life, even then only due to my father’s cloyingly good graces.

When we visited Namek to help our friends later that year, we jarringly found ourselves on the same side as Vegeta against Freeza, caught up in his revenge fantasy of becoming the hailed legendary Super Saiyan. I have only one or two memories of Vegeta’s first visit to Earth and a handful from Namek, and all of them involve him threatening or attempting to kill me in some fashion. After Freeza’s defeat at the hand of my father (who did so by ascending to the state of a super saiyan) and revenge for his people somewhat sated (even if not by his own hands), Vegeta stayed on Earth to terrorise the staff of Capsule Corporation instead. Over a number of years the scars faded and the rough edges were sanded over. Though as expected Vegeta moral code remained extremely Saiyan, protecting himself and his team (his family) above all else.

Of course if you’ve been following, this means everyone’s favourite company President Trunks is half alien. And a prince*. We’re taking bets on how these revelations will skew his very dedicated yet consistently rebuffed fanbase. Either way, luckily for him I don’t think the news voids his “Sexiest Man on Earth” award due to the technicality that he is on Earth, though I’m not sure the organisers intended the meaning to be stretched quite that far. Bra also has the same heritage as well as my less well known brother Goten. Pan is therefore a quarter Saiyan and was the only one for the first almost twenty years of her life, a difference I know she was painfully aware of due to endless teasing. The Saiyan genes have a strong influence and she was without any lack of ability, much to the surprise of those forces who would dismiss her as irrelevant when they came to Earth. Pan, like the rest of us, is proud of both her heritages and often makes a point to identify herself as “mostly Earthling, actually” when humiliating opponents. Now there are three other quarter Saiyans (with one on the way), easing Pan’s complex to a degree. Still, call her point-two-five or quarter-pint and she will have you in a headlock.

*(and so are Goten and I on my mother’s side, I have been loudly reminded. A touch of jealously there, brother?)

When most people speak of preloading, I believe they’re referring to alcohol before a night on the town. In our households, preloading food is part of the daily routine to appear normal.

As you may expect, both Trunks’ and Bra’s days are well-monitored due to their celebrity and VIP status so I forgive you if you find it difficult to believe that one, they are part Saiyan and two, are even ki-users, involving themselves in battles with enemies the world has never heard of. A valid doubt to have, but your uncertainty is a testament to how careful they’ve been. Maintaining the deception involves keeping the same level of balance, secrecy and preplanning I’ve had to employ in my own life.

When I first attended high school, having not really spent time around people my own age, I was told by my mother and Auntie Bulma to be extremely measured in my strength and how I chose to use it. I understood what a normal level of strength was, I could just not use my ki which is simple enough to do. But after years of summoning ki ad hoc much of its use was automatic to me, and a few times I caused… surprise… in sports classes. My slip ups set me on edge. The stares were not appealing. I did not want to be hounded about my abilities, and I desperately did not want to be cornered into revealing my heritage lest my family suffer. The Great Saiyaman outfit was designed by Bulma so I could prevent crime and keep my identity a secret, which was both extremely stylish and a load off the mind.

There was one part of my life that I couldn’t suppress or wear a mask for though - mealtimes. When the normal lunch for a student would be six hundred calories at a maximum, I’d eat a full meal instead, citing the “long commute time” from home causing me to skip breakfast. In reality I’d have a huge meal in the morning and evening and feast at the weekends. I performed the same routine during undergraduate and grad school, living at home for the former, and then moving in with Videl in Satan City for the latter. Working at the University now I have my own office and so can eat as much as possible in those few quiet moments a professor can find. Even at conferences I’ll sneak off and fly home for second evening meals. By being this meticulous and forward thinking, my ridiculous eating habits have mostly gone unremarked and heritage under the radar.

You’d think my masterminding paved the way for the kids, who were all eager to integrate into the world rather than purely fight like our fathers. You’d think. Alas, they didn’t heed my advice to the letter.

Years later, with a stubbornness I haven’t born witness to before nor since, Trunks and Goten decided to go to college. Together. In a halls of residence. And be completely independent. Well, more, Trunks decided they were going to start college together and be roommates, himself taking a year out so Goten could catch up. I’m not sure how much of a say Goten had in the matter but he didn’t seem to mind. I’m also not sure what offhand remark spurred their decision to live independently, though I guess it was mostly Trunks’ arm twisting. However, once Goten has a plan in mind nothing will persuade him otherwise and in that vein they’re both as bad as each other.

By all accounts it was a preposterous idea. Even ignoring their dietary requirements, Trunks’ food had, until then, been prepared by chefs. Goten had a little more experience, helping Mom prepare those daily banquets and cooking over campfires, but she did inadvertently sabotage his culinary education by refusing to let him do any of the heavy-duty stove cooking. Even so, the boys were extremely insistent they were to be left to their own devices which meant 24/7 proximity to people who would not understand their eating habits. How do you hide your wild appetite from a dorm full of people?

Being snapped with your cheeks full is pretty common for Saiyans.

Whatever hair-brained scheme they’d concocted together quickly fell apart and they would stock up through visits home, using Capsule Corp’s gravity training room every day and somehow always snagging an extremely large breakfast on the way out. Although the situation did get serious in the end. Trunks, being the more careful of the two around others due to the increased scrutiny he was under, fell into malnutrition attempting to keep up appearances and passed out on more than one occasion. Eventually they had to forego their independence somewhat. Bulma developed a disgusting (but extremely helpful) calorific and nutritionally balanced drink that could tide them over between meals, and they would visit home more often for a real meal, much to Mom’s genuine delight. The drink isn’t as depressing as it sounds by the way - Saiyans eat so quickly we don’t often savour food unless we think about it. Though we do have favourite foods. In fact, in the course of trying to provide for himself the sweet treats of home he missed (the strawberry daifuku that would disappear from the treat box as soon as made, no matter the number), Goten developed a knack for making sweet and baked treats. And considering that’s now the crux of his entire business, college was a good idea after all - even if the only use he gets out of his engineering major is fixing his kitchen gadgets.  

I know, I know. “What has this got to do with me learning how to use ki?” On the surface not much. Instead I wanted to take time to impress upon you that whilst Saiyans are powerful and don’t have the best of reputations in the Universe, the new generation is primarily concerned with defending you. We could take a back seat and not fight for the planet or leave to hide elsewhere, but we don’t. To be able to train to risk our lives time and time again yet try and live normal, fulfilling lives in peacetime is all we want, we just want to be left to our own devices. The same goes for our non-Saiyan, ki-using friends. We don’t need to be studied or prodded - I’ve done that for you. Nor do we need to be contained for your safety; you know we aren’t interested in world domination otherwise we’d be on the throne already (Capsule Corp an Earthling invention). I understand you might be scared. What sounded like a fun foray into making fireworks or floating five feet off the ground has moved swiftly to talk of planetary destruction. I can assure you though, right now we’re much more afraid of you than you are of us.

One of the few times I distinctly remember cursing my heritage was when Pan was nine months old. She fell sick with a heavy fever, as babies that age are wont to do. Now, received wisdom is to dose with acetaminophen (or ibuprofen) which act to reduce pain and fever, and these drugs will work for Saiyans, too. At that time however Pan was still growing and her liver function ramping up; we hadn’t taken a recent measurement to estimate the dosage she’d need. We didn’t even have precedence to go on - she was the first quarter Saiyan after all, for all we knew she could have a more Earthling physiology and would overdose. All we could do was give her enough for an full-Earthling baby and hope there’d be some impact, but over the course of the night her temperature rose further. Seeing anyone sick is distressing but knowing your child is in pain and you can do nothing, no matter how much of a superhero you are… “heartbreaking” doesn’t do the feeling justice. As a parent you’d do anything.

So I made a rash decision. We took the risk in the small hours of the night and ran her to the hospital, at least that way they could monitor drug levels in her bloodstream. We were seen quickly but of course with a lack of other symptoms our panic was dismissed as new parent syndrome, she didn’t look that bad. They wouldn’t admit her. Even spouting all the medical jargon I’d been absorbing at grad school didn’t budge them. They administered the next dose of the same drug and told us to come back should her fever get worse or she show other symptoms, all said with kindness and reassurance. They couldn’t feel her ki ebbing away. Then one passing doctor, sensing something, asked if we had any reason to believe she needed special care.

That early morning in ER I stood there, my child for all I knew and feared dying in my arms, Videl’s grip urging me to be brave and the parent in me screaming to do something - and I said nothing. It would have been so simple. I could have proved our alien blood by just transforming, the doctors would have listened and done all they could to help her I’m sure. I’m ashamed to say though fear of the repercussions, the idea of my daughter healthy but incarcerated for the world’s safety, us chased away from the only home we knew, of being perceived as frightening or being used and having our hands tied quite literally should a threat arrive on planet - those fears kept my silence. It would have been so simple to ask for help. But my resolve had faltered, and I turned and left for West City.

I felt almost beyond luck when I arrived at Bulma’s and by sheer coincidence a rare magical means of abating Pan’s fever was present. I’m not one to believe in fate or destiny, nor am I usually superstitious. However in that moment of sheer joy and relief at seeing my daughter laugh again I felt a creeping sensation that grew on the calmer flight home - the Universe was saving my daughter not for me but from me, as though some great force was opening their hands and grinning manically as I snatched without forethought the fruit I’d been selfishly demanding. I had been granted my wish without need for consequence, but I could not shake the feeling the ease at which I’d got my way would mean I’d find myself alone next time, no matter who my lack of faith in others effected. It would be my hubris reflecting back on myself and others threefold lest I change my attitude.

I learnt my lesson and slowly starting extending trust, making a friend in a doctor from another research group along the corridor and confiding in them all my medical notes. To my surprise they didn’t run to the press or summon the government - they were even mortally offended when I asked them to sign the same non-disclosure agreement Bulma gives her closer staff. They’re even a co-author on many of the papers that accompany this guide. Years later, when I (mostly) retired the cape and passed the torch to Papayaman, we invited a few police officers the Great Saiyaman had great rapport with for dinner. They were so excited ‘he’ and Videl (also the Great Saiyaman 2) were married! And again, nothing terrible happened.

They deny the accusation but I know the kids found confidants as they got older, usually accidentally or believing an exception couldn’t hurt, and of course Pan has her local students from the Pan Fighting Network who know about her ki-use at least. We’ve even had journalists sniffing around who were absorbed into the wider circle. Thankfully they understood our situation when explained fully and never published, even pushing the deception at times. Just judging by the prying calls I get every February I’m pretty sure my identity as the Great Saiyaman is an open secret at the Satan City ZTV and ZPress offices, finding me being an exercise for the interns.

When you add everything up, folding in the various levels of disclosure spread across a multitude of people, you begin to realise confiding in “a just few” has spiralled and a mailing list might be more time efficient. In fact, we realised it would be fairer on everyone if we drew a line to free people from the absurd silence they’ve held and well, here we are. This is me, my family and friends. I like to think we’re good eggs, we definitely have our flaws but above all else we’re human. As strange as we are at times, please have faith in us.

A note: There’s a chance, however slim, that this book has fallen into the hands of those who would do us and the planet harm. First, if you’re tracking Saiyans for ancient revenge or for your collection, stop. I’ll tell you straight. Don’t waste your time smashing up other planets in your hunt, we’re all here. Secondly, you’re welcome to try your best to use the information presented here to find a weakness and get us to hand the planet over.

But remember this. Better people than you have tried and failed to take this planet. Earth is our home, our only home, and it is defended.

Come and get us.