JewelQuest
New Member
So this time, looks like Feebas actually gets attention.....
Pokémon SS
- Thread starter Marril
- Start date
Chapter 8 - Gentle Storm
“Hitmonlee, get rid of those two!” Melanie shouted.
Ryan’s warning that their location was next on the false Team Rocket’s target list turned out to be accurate. The attack began swiftly and brutally—Electrodes detonated at ground level, followed by ground types using Earthquake to try and collapse the building. This sustained attack was supported by a wide variety of other Pokémon aiming at the building’s key points: storage, the server room, and the labs. The testing lab was already in ruins. Escape, not resistance, was foremost on Melanie’s mind.
Hitmonlee leapt forward at its opponents, a Golem and a Sandslash. It kicked the Sandslash into a wall and proceeded to kick the Golem down the hallway. There were no trainers accompanying the two Pokémon. Melanie used the distraction to slip into the research lab, Hitmonlee following her.
As of Ryan’s departure, Melanie was the only Rocket agent working directly under Juliet. Ryan brought a small continent back with him from other cities, consolidating Idaman Rocket combat presence into Rueni. This was the only reason they hadn’t been completely overwhelmed, although the hallways were filled with enemy Pokémon. She estimated there were dozens overall.
Melanie surveyed the damage. At a glance, none of the equipment was salvageable, but formal assessment would have to wait for later.
“Lee!” Hitmonlee shouted. Melanie spun around as Hitmonlee kicked Sandslash back into the hallway with a furious “Hitmonlee!”
I’m not cut out for combat, Melanie thought. Nor, for that matter, was she cut out for any of Team Rocket’s criminal endeavours. The sole reason she wasn’t working directly alongside Sam and the other researchers was that Juliet took a liking to her.
Sam…
Melanie tried to clear her head. Sam would be with the other researchers. With the facility’s equipment destroyed, its researchers would become the primary target.
“Hitmonlee,” she said. “Follow me.”
“Lee,” Hitmonlee said.
Melanie led Hitmonlee back into the hall and toward the main entrance. She couldn’t imagine the false Rockets wouldn’t concentrate their presence there, but any other entrance was inaccessible.
“Hitmon-Hitmonlee!” Hitmonlee shouted. Again, Melanie whirled around to see Hitmonlee kick an ambushing Pokémon—this time Golem—back through the hall.
Melanie glared at the fallen Golem. “Hitmonlee, take it out of the fight permanently.”
“Leeeeeeeee,” the Pokémon drew out the sound as it advanced on Golem. It raised its foot into the air, leg stretched taut, and broke Golem’s rocky shell with a brutal axe kick. Golem roared in pain. A swift kick to Golem’s face silenced it.
Melanie turned back toward the main entrance. “Good job, Hitmonlee. Keep an eye out for that Sandslash if it comes back.”
Sandslash didn’t return, and Melanie made it to the main entrance moments later. She could see a number of trainers through the glass doors. For a moment she considered trying to double back and find another exit.
“All right, Hitmonlee,” Melanie said. “You’re going to have to hit fast and hard. Blaze Kick through the door—the shrapnel and sudden heat should disorient those trainers and their Pokémon. You’ll need some really impressive close combat timing to pull this off. Think you’re up for it?”
“Lee,” Hitmonlee said in affirmation.
“Get to it. I have faith in you.”
Hitmonlee raised its right leg and flames swirled around its foot. It touched its right foot to the ground for a fraction of a second to balance itself, and leapt at the main doors. The glass shattered easily as Hitmonlee soared through it, shards cutting deep into the enemy Pokémon and their false Rocket trainers alike.
Hitmonlee ducked a swing from a Cacturne and used the momentum to throw a kick at a Zangoose. Not even a heartbeat later, Hitmonlee refocused its attention on Cacturne and pelted its face with a flurry of kicks. Melanie couldn’t keep track of Hitmonlee’s movements as it spun around again and kicked Cacturne into one of the false Rockets.
Melanie didn’t even notice the Absol trying to capitalize on Hitmonlee’s distraction until her Pokémon kicked it into the air. Hitmonlee whirled around and extended its leg, catching the other false Rocket in the face before kicking Absol away before it could hit the ground.
Hitmonlee staggered as if struck by an invisible blow immediately before a Gallade leapt down and slashed Hitmonlee with its arm blades. Melanie uttered more than a few profanities. Hitmonlee was able to take down three Pokémon and two trainers with the element of surprise, but it couldn’t fight a Gallade under normal circumstances, let alone following an ambush.
Gallade swung again at Hitmonlee, who dodged the blow. Its eyes flashed azure and Hitmonlee staggered, allowing Gallade an easy shot at Hitmonlee’s body. Hitmonlee attempted to retaliate, but its blazing foot was stopped by a glowing shield inches from Gallade’s body. With Hitmonlee off balance, Gallade swept in close, peppering Hitmonlee with countless light blows.
Melanie watched as Hitmonlee hit the ground, still conscious but clearly out of the fight. Rather than deal the final blow, Gallade stood up straight. A bolt of electricity arced at it from out of Melanie’s field of vision, but dissipated against a psychic shield. Another electric blast dissipated against the shield, and another. Finally one got through, and Gallade staggered.
Melanie moved closer to the door, and got a view of the intervening Pokémon. An Ampharos stood at the base of the steps leading from the sidewalk to the building’s entrance. It wasn’t Ryan’s reinforcements saving her, but Ryan himself.
“Ampharos, Signal Beam,” Ryan ordered. He ascended the stairs as a beam of light shone from Ampharos’ tail, temporarily blinding Gallade. “Thunderbolt.”
Gallade convulsed as electricity coursed through its body. Its eyes glowed a furious crimson as it glared at Ampharos. The electric Pokémon broke off its attack as it squealed in agony. Gallade stood up straight—not fully recovered, but still in fighting shape.
Hitmonlee was back up on its feet, but its balance was tenuous at best. It shook as it tried to raise a leg.
“Don’t worry,” Melanie said. She glanced sidelong at Gallade. “I have an idea.”
Ryan didn’t look too happy with his Ampharos’ prospects for victory. His eyes widened as he saw Gallade’s eyes begin to glow a faint azure. “Ampharos, Light Screen!”
A feeble screen appeared before Ampharos, but shattered quickly. Its shards faded into nothingness before they could hit the ground. Gallade ran toward Ampharos and slashed at its long neck. Ampharos fell to the ground, breathing ragged.
“Tackle Gallade,” Melanie ordered.
While Hitmonlee couldn’t balance itself for a dextrous kick, it had little trouble leaping at Gallade, tackling the psychic pugilist down the stairs. Gallade struck the stone steps hard, Hitmonlee on top of it, and landed on the sidewalk headfirst. Hitmonlee slowly stepped off Gallade’s body.
Melanie leaned on the handrail at the top of the stairs. “Good job, Hitmonlee.”
“Leeeee,” Hitmonlee drew out feebly but triumphantly.
Ryan clapped his hands slowly and methodically as he walked toward Melanie. “Impressive. I actually mean that.”
“Really,” Melanie replied flatly.
“Ultimately, I guess whether you believe me or not is irrelevant,” Ryan said. He recalled his wounded Ampharos. “The researchers are huddled by the side entrance. Obviously, I can’t send any of my men that direction, but I don’t think they’re helpless.” He looked Melanie directly in the eyes, gaze unsettlingly intense. “Do what I can’t. Go to them, if only for her sake.”
The building shook. The lights flickered. Sneasel and Sableye looked perturbed, but Mismagius was perfectly calm. The three were Juliet’s personal Pokémon. As much as Kadabra and Hypno’s presence was a familiar part of her routine, they would be with the group attempting to repel the attack.
It was a futile, impotent gesture to fight back, but one Juliet understood Team Rocket had to take. Though there was no saving the facility, Juliet knew they had as yet untapped resources about which their assailants knew nothing.
Juliet stepped into the holding area, in hand a belt with four pokéballs attached to it. David would want them back, and Juliet knew the Pokémon would be overjoyed to be reunited with their master.
The psychic sat on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He paid no attention to Juliet as she crossed the sparsely-adorned living area. He paid her no more attention as she rapped the open doorframe with her free hand.
“I can’t make heads or tails of it,” David admitted suddenly, as if speaking to some invisible third party. “It’s definitely not an earthquake, or at least a natural one.” Finally he acknowledged Juliet’s presence, looking at her sidelong. “I can’t figure out why you’re so calm,” he paused a heartbeat, “in the throes of a rival gang’s attack.”
Once, Juliet might have been annoyed at David so casually reading her mind. Now that she knew David better, she was thankful for being saved having to explain the situation.
“I want you to understand something,” Juliet said, her voice weighted. “As of today, you’re deceased. Keep your head low and do your best to avoid Team Rocket.”
“Absolution won’t come to you so easily,” David countered. Juliet tossed him the belt, which he caught with one hand. “Sins can’t be erased. If you’ve learned nothing else from me in the past two weeks, you should have learned that.”
Juliet smiled sadly. “Not without death. Not until I exist only in memory.”
Both humans shook as the room shook and the lights flickered. Sneasel and Sableye easily maintained their balance.
“Do you truly want to die?”
“You could read my mind to see.”
David stood and put on the belt. “When you gave me my Pokémon back, I stopped being your prisoner. In your mind, I was no longer a thing and became a person once more. I won’t read your mind. Not anymore.” He afforded her a hollow smile. “But if I’ve gotten to know you a fraction as well as I think I have in the past few weeks, I’d say forgiveness isn’t worth death to you. Not when you can convince yourself that yours is a hole out of which you can still climb.”
Juliet glanced at her Pokémon. “Some religions say that great works won’t save you from damnation. Personally, I think whether or not they do relies entirely on how you’re remembered—the thought of a tangible afterlife makes me laugh.”
“You honestly believe that?” David asked. The lights flickered off again before returning, this time staying off for several seconds. “You honestly believe there's nothing grander than us?”
“If any gods truly existed, they abandoned us long ago,” Juliet said. She looked vacantly past David. “They say Arceus created the world. Myths and legends say Kyogre created the sea, and Groudon the land. Other fables tell of Lugia, guardian of the sea, opposed to Ho-oh, guardian of the sky. I hear that in some countries, Mew is regarded as the progenitor of life.
“All these legendary Pokémon are just that: Pokémon. Many can and have been caught in ordinary pokéballs. Rare and powerful as they may be, they’re still mere animals, worth no more worship than any human.” She smiled humourlessly and looked to the ceiling. “We aren’t worth anything that could be called gods.”
“If that’s what you believe, then I won’t try to sway you. This is neither the time nor place for a sermon,” David replied. “Lost as you are, I have no doubt you’ll find your way when you’re truly faced with the prospect of being reduced solely to memory. You don’t strike me as a death seeker eager to throw away her life.”
Another tremor shook the room, and the main lights stayed out this time. The emergency generators kicked in a moment later, bathing the room in a hazy, pale glow.
“When my time comes, I’ll face it without hesitation, but I find no reason to rush toward it.” She laughed to herself. “Good things come to those who wait, as the proverb goes. I guess we’ll have to see.”
David stepped past Juliet, not breaking stride as he patted Sneasel on the head. He turned to her once he reached the door.
“I hope to see you again, Juliet Askacia,” David said. “I hope by then we’ve both earned each other’s forgiveness.”
Juliet looked to the ceiling as David left. The tremors stopped, and the main lights went back on.
Melanie’s blood chilled as she saw a Dragonite and Salamance in the fray. The false Rockets certainly used powerful, evolved Pokémon, but she hadn’t expected dragons. Ryan’s reinforcements and the facility’s psychics wouldn’t be a match for them.
As she turned to Hitmonlee, desperately trying to think of a way to fight the dragons, she heard Sam shout, “Enkidu, Dragon Tail!”
The Salamance flapped its wings several times, stunning an attacking Aggron, Tangrowth, and Heracross before slamming all three Pokémon with its tail. They flew across the street and hit the far sidewalk hard. None stood following the blow.
“Gilgamesh, Draco Meteor!” Sam ordered.
The Dragonite flew into the sky and howled. Meteors fell from around Dragonite onto an Electivire and Gigalith, knocking them out instantly. The tremors from the meteors striking the ground stunned the remaining attackers and even threatened to knock Melanie off her feet. Hitmonlee seemed unaffected.
“Sam!” Melanie called.
Sam nodded sharply to Melanie, but said nothing to her. “Gilgamesh, Hurricane!”
Her Dragonite still in the sky, it beat its wings until a tremendous wind built up, harsh enough to knock away the remaining assailants. At a glance, Melanie saw a Bastiodon, Rhyperior, Breloom, Machamp, and Marowak. She also saw what she thought was a Nidoqueen.
“Enkidu, Dragonbreath!” Sam ordered.
Salamance breathed a torrent of flames along the street, bright enough that Melanie was forced to look away. She started towards Sam, spots in her vision forcing her to tread carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Pokémon blown away by the hurricane now alight in the blaze.
Sam dropped her voice. “Gilgamesh, Dragon Rush.”
Dragonite swept down from the sky, scattering the flames and striking the burned Pokémon with its claws and tail. The Rhyperior still had an ounce of fight left in it, but Dragonite tackled it to the ground and struck it with its tail. Rhyperior convulsed uncontrollably, and Dragonite stilled it with one final blow.
“Gilgamesh, stay close and don’t let any stragglers through,” Sam said. “Enkidu, make sure none of the enemy Pokémon have any fight left in them.”
As the dragons moved out to perform their respective tasks, Melanie finally reached Sam and drew her into a tight hug. Sam stiffened for a moment, but relaxed as she returned it.
“Here I was getting all worried about you for nothing,” Melanie said. She parted from Sam, keeping her hands on Sam’s shoulders. She glanced at Gilgamesh and Enkidu. “Dragons, eh?”
Sam smirked. “I am a Pokémon Master. You mean to tell me you looked me up but didn’t see my winning team?”
“It didn’t seem important,” Melanie admitted. She stepped back several paces before losing her balance. Hitmonlee caught her before she could hit the ground.
Sam knelt and took hold of Melanie, helping her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Melanie said. She was exhausted and had a number of close calls, but was physically unscathed. “Just…” She smiled at Sam thankfully. “I’m not a Pokémon Master.”
Sam grinned.
Melanie could hear sirens. Emergency response time in Rueni was fifteen or twenty minutes—long enough for the false Rockets to do their job and even for some of them to escape. She hoped Ryan and his reinforcements also knew to escape. A known Pokémon Master fighting off the attack was much less suspicious than a dozen trainers out of nowhere.
The fire department was first to arrive. Paramedics were second, and the police, led by Rueni’s Officer Jenny, were a distant third.
Melanie couldn’t deny a dislike for Officer Jenny that ran beyond the professional. All jokes aside that Officer Jenny and, by extension, Nurse Joy were simply very humanoid Pokémon, Melanie found it intensely creepy that every city in every country seemed to have one, and they were all completely identical. Some were older and some were younger, but every Officer Jenny shared the same appearance, personality, and profession. Thankfully the lead researcher was conscious and fit to be the one to talk to her.
Minutes later, Juliet stepped out of the ruined building, surrounded by her Pokémon. She blinked at Sam’s dragons, halting momentarily, and then continued towards Melanie and Sam.
“Where were you?” Melanie asked after Juliet reached them.
Juliet glanced at Sam. “I had things to attend to.”
“We could’ve used you in the fight.”
“I think Sam did well enough,” Juliet said.
Melanie shook her head. “If the attack had been a little more unified for a sustained offensive rather than shock and awe, I doubt even a pair of dragons would have been enough.”
“I doubt we’ll be seeing that level of cohesion from them. Anyway,” Juliet said. “I wasn’t in the fight because I was trying to learn who attacked us.”
“Did you?”
Juliet nodded. “It was Team Rocket.”
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(Author's notes: New plot arc, new narrative style, in a few ways. Although you could argue that this is just the denouement of the first arc. Whatever. Two things applied retroactively: First is that I'm going to be renaming most of the Neo League cities to be in line with the overall setting I envision, and second is that I'm going to start using gendered pronouns with Pokémon who'd logically have their genders known. So for instance a random gym leader's Pokémon would be "it," but Marril is going to be "she," in the same way real-life pets are given pronouns when they're familiar. As a related aside, I honestly don't know what that thing on Sneasel's head is, but Bulbapedia says it's feather-like so I'm going with that. Also I'm going to make a conscious effort to overcome the kind of subject-verb-object repetition that made the last chapter's execution fall so flat. What can I say, SS is always a work in progress. PS I realize I epically misnumbered the last chapter. Oopsie.)
While Melanie expected Sam to go along with her “let me see you home safely” request, she hadn’t expected Sam to invite her in once they got to Sam’s place. As unexpected as Sam’s request was, Melanie couldn’t say it was unwelcome.
To Melanie’s understanding, Juliet had helped Sam find a decent-sized condo in the Rueni suburbs. It was very spacious for one person, and had Sam not been unwittingly working for Team Rocket, she’d never have been able to afford it. Firms without such illicit attachments couldn’t afford to pay as well as theirs.
Sam’s furnishings were typical of trainers who weren’t yet used to a stable life in one city, with a dash of what she’d expect of students too used to dorm rooms. One room was empty except for a few stacks of boxes, and Sam’s living room had only a TV, an obviously secondhand loveseat, a small coffee table, and a computer desk in the far corner.
Man, all that unused space, Melanie thought, noting solidly a third of the living room was bare. She doesn’t even really need to get anything else. She just needs to use the space better. Oh well, there’s another lesson to plan, eh?
“So, um,” Sam said as Melanie sat down on the loveseat, “would you like a drink, I guess? I mean, I only have, like, water, but… I dunno. I’ve never really had anyone over before.”
Sam truly was adorable when she was flustered. “No,” said Melanie, “I’m fine. Thanks for the offer.”
That bit of routine pleasantry aside, Sam sat down beside Melanie a moment later and set a bottle of water on the table. Sam stared at it distantly.
“Is something wrong?” Melanie asked.
“No,” Sam replied. She hesitated a moment and grabbed the bottle, twisting off the cap. “Yes. I just keep thinking ‘why me?’ I mean, Team Rocket just keeps following me around, don’t they? First I get tricked into working for them, then they follow me overseas like that. Some kind of paranoia, isn’t it?” Sam took a sip of water and set the bottle back down on the table. “World just has to revolve around me. I just have to be their target. It can’t be for any other reason, oh no.” She turned to Melanie. “I don’t understand why, is basically it.”
Melanie shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t either. Juliet might, but good luck getting her to talk. She isn’t even telling me anything.” She scoffed lightly. “Maybe she’s secretly working for Team Rocket and forgot to give them their cut.”
“I don’t think they’d attack like that just over a missing cut,” Sam said. “Besides, I once worked for a firm with Rocket connections, remember? There’s no way we’ve got them.”
Melanie ruffled Sam’s hair. “I was joking anyway.”
Sam winced, obviously feeling embarrassed over not catching the sarcasm. Still, she afforded Melanie a smile as she straightened her hair back out. Kind of a shame, figured Melanie—Sam’s short, chestnut brown hair looked so cute when tousled.
Melanie slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. To her surprise, Sam didn’t pull away or tense up nervously, so Melanie drew her closer, enjoying the warmth of Sam against her. Sam laid her head on Melanie’s shoulder.
“Well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Melanie said. “They didn’t accomplish anything except destroying property—all data’s backed up offsite, and there wasn’t anything unique on location. The police know to look out for them now. Before you know it, this’ll just be a bad memory you can throw into the pile and forget about.”
Melanie wished she could be the strong one, but found she needed comfort just as much as Sam did. There was no doubt Sam could tell—if Melanie nearly collapsing earlier wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the uncertainty creeping into her voice sealed it. Part of her fear was that Sam would discover she was a Team Rocket agent, but what truly ate at her was the knowledge that if it came down to it, Melanie knew she was mature enough to choose Team Rocket over Sam. Had she been Sam’s age, she might not be so pragmatic. She found herself longing for that kind of youthful naïveté.
She mused that had she been older she might have known better than to get involved with Sam in the first place. Had she not cared for Sam as deeply as she did, she might have been strong enough to break it off before it could get more dangerous.
I’m so selfish, Melanie thought. As much as she could know, intellectually, what she should do, there was no way she could go through with it.
“You know,” Sam said, smiling up at Melanie, “I think I’m on my way to that whole ‘chuck it in the pile and forget about it’ thing.”
Melanie kissed Sam’s forehead lightly. “Give it some time and we'll both be there.”
Juliet wished she could have enjoyed the opportunity to rest and put her feet up once she got home, but even that was beyond her. Her couch was perfectly comfortable, and her feet were definitely thankful to be off the ground, but she’d developed a nagging restlessness over the course of the day that nothing but time would cure.
Perhaps Sneasel sensed Juliet’s discomfort, or perhaps he simply wanted to see his mistress. Whatever the reason, Sneasel crept up to Juliet, who was lying on her couch and staring at the ceiling, and prodded her side gently.
Juliet smiled at the Pokémon. “Yes, boy?”
“Sel. Sneaaaaa. Sneasel.”
Petting Sneasel, she said, “Don’t worry about today.”
“Sel-Sneasel.”
“Oh, all right,” Juliet said.
Sneasel deftly climbed up and onto Juliet’s stomach. He curled up as she petted him and sighed happily as she gently preened his head feather with one hand. Sneasel’s body temperature wasn’t low enough to be any discomfort.
Juliet shook her head derisively as Sneasel closed his eyes. He’d be asleep in moments. As much as Juliet might have been jealous of her Pokémon’s ability to rest after their day, she figured Sneasel might help her relax if not sleep.
Besides, she kept her Pokémon out of the fight. That in and of itself was something to be proud of. They saw too much combat. Pokémon were more than animals to be trained to fight—surprisingly, a common attitude amongst members of Team Rocket, but not, it seemed, very common in Idama.
If the Neo League had one lure above all others over the Pokémon League, it was that they put effort into ensuring ease of direct travel between cities with official League locations. Alex and Terry’s difficulties in getting from the port to Rueni were the only old-style hiking they’d likely have to do.
This wasn’t to say that the trip was exciting, at least insofar as Terry found the middle of nowhere after the sun mostly set to be disappointing scenery for the bus ride. There were trees. In the distance there were mountains. If Terry strained his eyes, he could see some wild Pokémon, ten for a yen.
Worse, he’d gotten sick of the books he packed. This left him nothing to do except try to get himself lost in thought while ignoring Marril’s prodding.
“Marril, stop that,” Terry hissed to the Pokémon after she batted his arm with her tail one time too many.
Marril batted at Terry again. He caught the Pokémon’s tail in his left hand and didn’t let go. After a few seconds of struggling to free herself, Marril took a deep breath. Terry released her tail, not wanting to play chicken with a creature that could very well give him frostbite or worse.
“Marril would’ve done it, too,” Alex commented. She was deeply engrossed in texting and didn’t look up. “She hates having her tail grabbed.”
“You know, you’ve been at that for like an hour now,” Terry commented. “I doubt your sister’s that interesting.”
Alex scoffed. “Trust me, she isn’t. I’ve talked to her like twice since we left Cerulean. She picked this morning to tell me she’s had a job in Rueni for the past few weeks. Like, right the moment it was too late to visit her. Her timing was always crap like that. Apparently it’s because I ‘never asked.’”
“So if it’s not Sam, who is it?” Terry asked.
“No one,” Alex said. “And before you say ‘well it’s clearly someone,’ obviously I mean it’s no one you know.”
Terry frowned. “No fair doing my side of the conversation too.”
“Marril-ril-ril, Mar,” Marril said. Alex laughed.
“Marril said she’ll do your side of the conversation if you prefer,” Alex translated.
“Did she really say that?” Terry asked. “I have a hard time believing she’s smart enough to hold a conversation but not smart enough to speak English.”
Marril batted Terry’s arm with her tail again.
“Okay, fine, I get the point, it’s ‘gang up on Terry day’ or something,” Terry said.
Alex sighed. “Look, if you really want to know, it’s just an old friend of mine. I haven’t talked to her in a while. Not since… you know.”
“Ah,” Terry said.
“We were tossing around ideas for meeting up at some point,” Alex continued. “She’s doing a Neo League run, too.”
“I’d be fine with structuring our circuit around it,” Terry offered.
“No need. Apparently she’ll be in Darkwood City a little while after we were planning on leaving. It’s just a case of sticking around for an extra few days.”
“Cool. Maybe she’ll give Marril someone else to annoy.”
Alex smirked and petted Marril. “Oh, you’ll see how those two get along. Won’t he, Marril?”
“Mar!” Marril said.
“Anyway,” Alex said as she put away her phone, glancing out the window. It had darkened significantly since Terry last checked. She then reached into her bag and pulled out a travel pillow. “It’s getting late enough to justify this, so I’m gonna do that thing where I knock myself unconscious and hallucinate for a few hours.”
“Have fun,” was Terry’s only comment.
Terry checked the time. They were still hours out from Yala. He made a mental note to pick up a few more distractions for the trip to Darkwood. Still, nothing he could do about it now. He considered trying to sleep, but he lacked Alex’s affinity for it.
Alex’s newfound lack of energy in general took a lot of getting used to. She once offered a theory that it was simply her body not being fully used to metabolizing estrogen rather than testosterone. Still, thought Terry, back when Alex’s endocrine system was testosterone-dominant, insomnia had been the sleep problem “he” had to live with—neither acknowledged it aloud, but both could tell this was due to extreme depression. Terry wondered if Alex’s newfound hypersomnia was at least partially the product of such depression-based insomnia going away.
He found himself looking at Alex’s sleeping form. He didn’t know why Sam had reacted as she did—Alex looked nearly identical to how she looked before. Despite that, there was a certain something he couldn’t put into words, a combination of what seemed to be dozens of tiny changes, inconsequential on their own, yet adding up to the point where Terry simply couldn’t see or even think of Alex as male anymore.
Alex often expressed self-consciousness about her height, her lack of figure, and her relatively strong facial features, but Terry didn’t mind those at all. She had a certain kind of tall, slender beauty, and given her currently androgynous-leaning-feminine looks, Terry had no doubt that as time went on and hormones continued to do their thing, Alex would look like a model, statuesque and striking. That or Terry was simply biased—if he had a “type,” then tall and slender was definitely it. Alex being blonde didn’t do anything to hurt matters either.
Which was, ultimately, the problem he was going to have to face head-on.
Well, he thought, let’s do it this way. I won’t run away from it anymore, so let’s just reason our way through it, eh?
He couldn't deny it anymore—Terry was definitely attracted to Alex. With that mental dam burst, Terry found himself wondering just why he’d been so scared to admit it to himself in the first place. It had nothing to do with the way Alex was born. That part was a non-issue as far as he was concerned, and only entered his mind so he could tell himself not to try to use it as a feeble scapegoat.
The mental excuse that he simply hadn’t thought of Alex like that before and that it felt awkward to start now didn’t hold up. If he had to put it into words, Terry would have settled on the fact that his past relationships never ended well, and that he didn’t want to jeopardize his belated attempt at a “normal” life by trying one with Alex. Plus he didn’t know whether Alex was attracted to men or women—the latter would be unfortunate, but Terry was prepared to accept it.
But still, Alex wasn’t like anyone he’d been with before, romantically or otherwise. Terry’s feelings weren’t going to go away on their own, either. It was probably best to get everything out in the open, for good or for ill, rather than cramming his feelings away.
Terry petted Marril, who was drowsing on the armrest between himself and Alex. Marril looked surprised but didn’t react further. Terry leaned back in his seat and took another look out the window. Now it was totally dark.
Chapter 9 - Earned Respite
While Melanie expected Sam to go along with her “let me see you home safely” request, she hadn’t expected Sam to invite her in once they got to Sam’s place. As unexpected as Sam’s request was, Melanie couldn’t say it was unwelcome.
To Melanie’s understanding, Juliet had helped Sam find a decent-sized condo in the Rueni suburbs. It was very spacious for one person, and had Sam not been unwittingly working for Team Rocket, she’d never have been able to afford it. Firms without such illicit attachments couldn’t afford to pay as well as theirs.
Sam’s furnishings were typical of trainers who weren’t yet used to a stable life in one city, with a dash of what she’d expect of students too used to dorm rooms. One room was empty except for a few stacks of boxes, and Sam’s living room had only a TV, an obviously secondhand loveseat, a small coffee table, and a computer desk in the far corner.
Man, all that unused space, Melanie thought, noting solidly a third of the living room was bare. She doesn’t even really need to get anything else. She just needs to use the space better. Oh well, there’s another lesson to plan, eh?
“So, um,” Sam said as Melanie sat down on the loveseat, “would you like a drink, I guess? I mean, I only have, like, water, but… I dunno. I’ve never really had anyone over before.”
Sam truly was adorable when she was flustered. “No,” said Melanie, “I’m fine. Thanks for the offer.”
That bit of routine pleasantry aside, Sam sat down beside Melanie a moment later and set a bottle of water on the table. Sam stared at it distantly.
“Is something wrong?” Melanie asked.
“No,” Sam replied. She hesitated a moment and grabbed the bottle, twisting off the cap. “Yes. I just keep thinking ‘why me?’ I mean, Team Rocket just keeps following me around, don’t they? First I get tricked into working for them, then they follow me overseas like that. Some kind of paranoia, isn’t it?” Sam took a sip of water and set the bottle back down on the table. “World just has to revolve around me. I just have to be their target. It can’t be for any other reason, oh no.” She turned to Melanie. “I don’t understand why, is basically it.”
Melanie shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t either. Juliet might, but good luck getting her to talk. She isn’t even telling me anything.” She scoffed lightly. “Maybe she’s secretly working for Team Rocket and forgot to give them their cut.”
“I don’t think they’d attack like that just over a missing cut,” Sam said. “Besides, I once worked for a firm with Rocket connections, remember? There’s no way we’ve got them.”
Melanie ruffled Sam’s hair. “I was joking anyway.”
Sam winced, obviously feeling embarrassed over not catching the sarcasm. Still, she afforded Melanie a smile as she straightened her hair back out. Kind of a shame, figured Melanie—Sam’s short, chestnut brown hair looked so cute when tousled.
Melanie slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. To her surprise, Sam didn’t pull away or tense up nervously, so Melanie drew her closer, enjoying the warmth of Sam against her. Sam laid her head on Melanie’s shoulder.
“Well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Melanie said. “They didn’t accomplish anything except destroying property—all data’s backed up offsite, and there wasn’t anything unique on location. The police know to look out for them now. Before you know it, this’ll just be a bad memory you can throw into the pile and forget about.”
Melanie wished she could be the strong one, but found she needed comfort just as much as Sam did. There was no doubt Sam could tell—if Melanie nearly collapsing earlier wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the uncertainty creeping into her voice sealed it. Part of her fear was that Sam would discover she was a Team Rocket agent, but what truly ate at her was the knowledge that if it came down to it, Melanie knew she was mature enough to choose Team Rocket over Sam. Had she been Sam’s age, she might not be so pragmatic. She found herself longing for that kind of youthful naïveté.
She mused that had she been older she might have known better than to get involved with Sam in the first place. Had she not cared for Sam as deeply as she did, she might have been strong enough to break it off before it could get more dangerous.
I’m so selfish, Melanie thought. As much as she could know, intellectually, what she should do, there was no way she could go through with it.
“You know,” Sam said, smiling up at Melanie, “I think I’m on my way to that whole ‘chuck it in the pile and forget about it’ thing.”
Melanie kissed Sam’s forehead lightly. “Give it some time and we'll both be there.”
Juliet wished she could have enjoyed the opportunity to rest and put her feet up once she got home, but even that was beyond her. Her couch was perfectly comfortable, and her feet were definitely thankful to be off the ground, but she’d developed a nagging restlessness over the course of the day that nothing but time would cure.
Perhaps Sneasel sensed Juliet’s discomfort, or perhaps he simply wanted to see his mistress. Whatever the reason, Sneasel crept up to Juliet, who was lying on her couch and staring at the ceiling, and prodded her side gently.
Juliet smiled at the Pokémon. “Yes, boy?”
“Sel. Sneaaaaa. Sneasel.”
Petting Sneasel, she said, “Don’t worry about today.”
“Sel-Sneasel.”
“Oh, all right,” Juliet said.
Sneasel deftly climbed up and onto Juliet’s stomach. He curled up as she petted him and sighed happily as she gently preened his head feather with one hand. Sneasel’s body temperature wasn’t low enough to be any discomfort.
Juliet shook her head derisively as Sneasel closed his eyes. He’d be asleep in moments. As much as Juliet might have been jealous of her Pokémon’s ability to rest after their day, she figured Sneasel might help her relax if not sleep.
Besides, she kept her Pokémon out of the fight. That in and of itself was something to be proud of. They saw too much combat. Pokémon were more than animals to be trained to fight—surprisingly, a common attitude amongst members of Team Rocket, but not, it seemed, very common in Idama.
If the Neo League had one lure above all others over the Pokémon League, it was that they put effort into ensuring ease of direct travel between cities with official League locations. Alex and Terry’s difficulties in getting from the port to Rueni were the only old-style hiking they’d likely have to do.
This wasn’t to say that the trip was exciting, at least insofar as Terry found the middle of nowhere after the sun mostly set to be disappointing scenery for the bus ride. There were trees. In the distance there were mountains. If Terry strained his eyes, he could see some wild Pokémon, ten for a yen.
Worse, he’d gotten sick of the books he packed. This left him nothing to do except try to get himself lost in thought while ignoring Marril’s prodding.
“Marril, stop that,” Terry hissed to the Pokémon after she batted his arm with her tail one time too many.
Marril batted at Terry again. He caught the Pokémon’s tail in his left hand and didn’t let go. After a few seconds of struggling to free herself, Marril took a deep breath. Terry released her tail, not wanting to play chicken with a creature that could very well give him frostbite or worse.
“Marril would’ve done it, too,” Alex commented. She was deeply engrossed in texting and didn’t look up. “She hates having her tail grabbed.”
“You know, you’ve been at that for like an hour now,” Terry commented. “I doubt your sister’s that interesting.”
Alex scoffed. “Trust me, she isn’t. I’ve talked to her like twice since we left Cerulean. She picked this morning to tell me she’s had a job in Rueni for the past few weeks. Like, right the moment it was too late to visit her. Her timing was always crap like that. Apparently it’s because I ‘never asked.’”
“So if it’s not Sam, who is it?” Terry asked.
“No one,” Alex said. “And before you say ‘well it’s clearly someone,’ obviously I mean it’s no one you know.”
Terry frowned. “No fair doing my side of the conversation too.”
“Marril-ril-ril, Mar,” Marril said. Alex laughed.
“Marril said she’ll do your side of the conversation if you prefer,” Alex translated.
“Did she really say that?” Terry asked. “I have a hard time believing she’s smart enough to hold a conversation but not smart enough to speak English.”
Marril batted Terry’s arm with her tail again.
“Okay, fine, I get the point, it’s ‘gang up on Terry day’ or something,” Terry said.
Alex sighed. “Look, if you really want to know, it’s just an old friend of mine. I haven’t talked to her in a while. Not since… you know.”
“Ah,” Terry said.
“We were tossing around ideas for meeting up at some point,” Alex continued. “She’s doing a Neo League run, too.”
“I’d be fine with structuring our circuit around it,” Terry offered.
“No need. Apparently she’ll be in Darkwood City a little while after we were planning on leaving. It’s just a case of sticking around for an extra few days.”
“Cool. Maybe she’ll give Marril someone else to annoy.”
Alex smirked and petted Marril. “Oh, you’ll see how those two get along. Won’t he, Marril?”
“Mar!” Marril said.
“Anyway,” Alex said as she put away her phone, glancing out the window. It had darkened significantly since Terry last checked. She then reached into her bag and pulled out a travel pillow. “It’s getting late enough to justify this, so I’m gonna do that thing where I knock myself unconscious and hallucinate for a few hours.”
“Have fun,” was Terry’s only comment.
Terry checked the time. They were still hours out from Yala. He made a mental note to pick up a few more distractions for the trip to Darkwood. Still, nothing he could do about it now. He considered trying to sleep, but he lacked Alex’s affinity for it.
Alex’s newfound lack of energy in general took a lot of getting used to. She once offered a theory that it was simply her body not being fully used to metabolizing estrogen rather than testosterone. Still, thought Terry, back when Alex’s endocrine system was testosterone-dominant, insomnia had been the sleep problem “he” had to live with—neither acknowledged it aloud, but both could tell this was due to extreme depression. Terry wondered if Alex’s newfound hypersomnia was at least partially the product of such depression-based insomnia going away.
He found himself looking at Alex’s sleeping form. He didn’t know why Sam had reacted as she did—Alex looked nearly identical to how she looked before. Despite that, there was a certain something he couldn’t put into words, a combination of what seemed to be dozens of tiny changes, inconsequential on their own, yet adding up to the point where Terry simply couldn’t see or even think of Alex as male anymore.
Alex often expressed self-consciousness about her height, her lack of figure, and her relatively strong facial features, but Terry didn’t mind those at all. She had a certain kind of tall, slender beauty, and given her currently androgynous-leaning-feminine looks, Terry had no doubt that as time went on and hormones continued to do their thing, Alex would look like a model, statuesque and striking. That or Terry was simply biased—if he had a “type,” then tall and slender was definitely it. Alex being blonde didn’t do anything to hurt matters either.
Which was, ultimately, the problem he was going to have to face head-on.
Well, he thought, let’s do it this way. I won’t run away from it anymore, so let’s just reason our way through it, eh?
He couldn't deny it anymore—Terry was definitely attracted to Alex. With that mental dam burst, Terry found himself wondering just why he’d been so scared to admit it to himself in the first place. It had nothing to do with the way Alex was born. That part was a non-issue as far as he was concerned, and only entered his mind so he could tell himself not to try to use it as a feeble scapegoat.
The mental excuse that he simply hadn’t thought of Alex like that before and that it felt awkward to start now didn’t hold up. If he had to put it into words, Terry would have settled on the fact that his past relationships never ended well, and that he didn’t want to jeopardize his belated attempt at a “normal” life by trying one with Alex. Plus he didn’t know whether Alex was attracted to men or women—the latter would be unfortunate, but Terry was prepared to accept it.
But still, Alex wasn’t like anyone he’d been with before, romantically or otherwise. Terry’s feelings weren’t going to go away on their own, either. It was probably best to get everything out in the open, for good or for ill, rather than cramming his feelings away.
Terry petted Marril, who was drowsing on the armrest between himself and Alex. Marril looked surprised but didn’t react further. Terry leaned back in his seat and took another look out the window. Now it was totally dark.
JewelQuest
New Member
I like how things are coming along! Keep at it!
Keep at it!(Author's notes: Nine days. Ouch. Guess it didn't take long for me to start slipping. Midterms will do that to a person, though. Also I think this chapter marks the first completely new plot-relevant character in this iteration. Huzzah.)
Yala City simply felt enclosed. It was surrounded on all sides by extremely dense forest, with only a few roads leading in or out. The architecture was old-timey, with narrow streets and nearly nonexistent sidewalks. Every building seemed to be made of stone or brick, tending toward open windows and wooden doors. Buses left and arrived three times a day, at least one of which arriving late at night, as Alex and Terry found out the hard way.
At least Terry had the foresight to book a hotel in advance this time.
While Alex found the city more scenic than the comparatively modern Rueni City, it was a bit rural for her tastes. She was no stranger to rural areas, even if the last time she was in one was a night spent in Pallet Town on the way to the Indigo Plateau. Her attitude toward them was generally to leave as quickly as possible.
Owing to the fact that Yala had a gym, there was a great deal of resources for local trainers. Upon Alex’s discovery that this included contest supplies, her first priority wasn’t to register a challenge at the gym, but to drag Terry along on a shopping trip.
“I sure hope you’re not going to buy this overpriced crap,” Terry commented, examining a blue pokéblock.
“Nah,” Alex said. “The markup on premade is horrible.”
“Going the berry route?”
Alex nodded. “I thought I could try my hand at the whole poffin thing.”
“Have you ever actually made any before?”
“Nope.”
“You know how to make them, right?”
“More or less.”
“You at least have a poffin case to store them?”
“Nope.”
Terry sighed. “Seriously, Alex, did you plan this out at all?”
“Look, I wasn’t expecting a Feebas,” Alex said. She looked through the berry stock, most of it fairly dire. Oran berries were very affordable, though she doubted she’d get anywhere near enough of a supply. Wiki berries were in stock, but while Alex wasn’t quite sure about the yen-baht exchange rate, she suspected they were grossly overpriced. “All I knew was that fishing place looked amateurish enough that they wouldn’t know how to value things. I was expecting maybe a cheap Staryu or something, maybe a Wooper or Barboach.”
“Fair enough, I guess. But still, Whiscash doesn’t seem your type,” Terry commented.
“What, and Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-agsire does?” Alex asked, drawing out the name in what she figured was a fair approximation of how Quagsire sounded.
“Quagsire are cute.”
“No arguing that,” Alex admitted. Had Marril been there, she might have thrown a minor fit at Alex calling another Pokémon cute. Alas, the store didn’t allow Pokémon inside. The thought of Marril’s complaints and Terry’s inevitable longsuffering reaction made Alex smile. Despite the joke, she had to agree that the prospect of training a Whiscash didn’t appeal to her—after Magikarp and now Feebas, she figured herself done with fish Pokémon.
And here she was competing in the Neo League, which all but mandated that either you train your Pokémon very well, or you used naturally powerful Pokémon without regard for trainer preference. She had a feeling the championships would be a mix of both, which was why she was so keen to evolve Feebas as soon as possible, and why she put such a priority on coaxing Wartortle to evolve. As it stood, her combat-ready team consisted solely of Gyarados, Golduck, and Gastrodon.
I really, really need to get Milotic or Blastoise to break up that G nonsense, Alex thought. There was also the option of catching a sixth Pokémon, as Marril wasn’t registered for competitive battle, but the thought of trying to train three Pokémon on the fly in a league way above what she was used to didn’t appeal to Alex.
Terry poked through some pecha berries. “You know, I might pick up some of these.”
“Your Pokémon like sweet berries?” Alex asked.
“No,” Terry replied, grinning. “I do.”
Well, there was no denying that some berries were better eaten by trainers than their Pokémon. Alex couldn’t deny she was considering picking up a few rawst and aspear berries for herself.
You know what, Alex thought. I think I will.
Sam was so engrossed in reading e-mail that she didn’t hear Melanie come up behind her. She jolted in her seat as Melanie caught her with a hug from behind.
“Whoa, hey, it’s just me,” Melanie said.
“I… I know, it’s just…” Sam trailed off. She turned her chair around to face Melanie. Sam had no idea how to explain that she was fine with the previous night but needed a bit more time to be ready for spontaneous physical contact.
Melanie smiled. “Something got you worked up?”
“Not really,” Sam gave the only politic answer. She was too embarrassed to say outright that this was her first “real” relationship, and that she was having a harder time going forward than she let on. Not that her act seemed to fool Melanie any, but being dragged ahead was better than being too scared to take the steps herself.
As much as the Team Rocket attack was proving difficult to move past, it gave Sam a chance to see Melanie more. Melanie took the opportunity to help Sam redecorate and make her place seem more like an actual home rather than simply somewhere one lived. Her living room already more than lived up to the name. Sam wondered what Melanie had in store for the other rooms.
“So,” said Melanie, glancing at Sam’s screen, “you’ve been at this for a while now. Is your brother that interesting?”
Sam shook her head. For some reason, no one ever figured Alex to be a woman going on name alone. “My sister, actually. She’s doing a Neo League challenge. I actually wanted to invite her over at some point while she was still in Rueni, but work got hectic and then yeah, there was that Team Rocket stuff.”
Melanie looked oddly amused as she scanned the screen. The e-mail itself was simply a few paragraphs from Alex about their trip out to Yala, about Alex buying an underpriced Feebas, and about Terry getting sick from eating too many berries the previous night. Sam had to admit the Feebas story was slightly funny if nothing else.
“It’s a shame,” Melanie commented. “I’d have liked to meet her. This Terry guy seems interesting too.”
“Meh,” Sam said. “I’ve met him. I don’t know why Alex chose him as her partner.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Melanie said. She patted Sam on the shoulder. Sam tried to let herself enjoy it. “Come on, now, you said you’d be ready for lunch in ‘just a minute’ an hour ago.”
“Fine, fine,” Sam said as she got up and turned off the monitor. Once again she cursed herself for her excessive anxiety—she’d been looking forward to this lunch date, and now she’d feel all afternoon like she ruined it.
Just when it seemed like things were finally going right, she thought, something had to come along and ruin it. Story of my bloody life.
Alex reached into the bathtub and swirled the water around a little. She was careful not to disturb it too much. She only needed Feebas’ attention. The fish’s mood was nearly impossible to determine, as it did little else but float in whatever water she put it. It was only with some experimentation that she discovered Feebas preferred warm water to cold.
“Marril-mar,” Marril said from the edge of the tub. She sat with her tail dangling into it, bobbing on the water’s surface. Feebas paid the buoy no mind.
“Oh, come on, Feebas,” Alex groaned, holding another poorly-cooked poffin out at the fish. “These are good. You liked these before, right?”
Feebas, naturally, didn’t respond, unless Alex was to count floating helplessly as response. It ate the first few poffins Alex offered it the previous night, but today didn’t seem hungry. Alex wondered if it somehow knew about Terry getting sick.
“Mar-Marril,” Marril said, asking if she could try to feed Feebas.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Alex replied, giving the poffin to Marril.
Marril nibbled one of the ends off the poffin, chewed for a few seconds, then spat out the bite in disgust. “Mar-mar-Marril. Ril.”
“I get it, I’m a lousy chef,” Alex said. Marril’s reminder stung more than it should have. “Tell me something I don’t know. I mean, look, Feebas doesn’t have a sense of taste, does it?”
“Ril? Marril.”
“Maybe you’d have better luck asking it.”
Marril turned to Feebas. “Mar-Marril-ril-ril?”
Feebas didn’t move, but its eyes glanced at Marril for a brief second. It replied with a few weak glub-glub sounds.
“Marril-Marril, mar-mar-Marril.”
“All right, so Feebas is a he,” Alex said. “Did he tell you anything else?”
“Ril.”
Alex sighed and leaned dejectedly against the edge of the tub. This plan was a lot simpler in her head, but somehow got a lot harder in its trip to real life. She reached over to the side, where Feebas’ pokéball lay leaning against the wall, and picked it up without looking at it. She recalled Feebas and drained the tub.
“So was it really that bad?” Alex asked as she stood up.
“Mar.”
Disbelieving, Alex took the same poffin Marril tried and bit off the other end. She choked that small bite down and felt no desire to have a second. While it was tempting to blame the berries themselves, the aspear berries she had the previous night were delicious, and the one oran berry she snuck wasn’t bad either.
“Well, you’d still eat them anyway if you knew they’d make you evolve into something like Milotic,” Alex pointed out.
“Ril,” Marril replied. “Marril-Marril-Marril, mar-mar.”
“Why do I talk to you, again?” Alex wondered. Marril’s response was simply to restate its reason for not evolving, which was that the transition from Azurril to Marril was bad enough, and that going from Marril to Azumarril would be even worse.
Alex knocked on the doorframe as she stepped out of the bathroom. “Hey, Terry, doing any better?”
Terry swore at Alex, which made her smile as she saw him lying on his bed, back to the window. If anything lent credence to the “bad berry” theory, this would be it.
Marril hopped up onto Alex’s bed and looked at Terry. “Mar-mar?”
“Don’t,” Terry groaned before Alex could offer a translation. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Alex said truthfully. Marril’s comment wasn’t even about Terry so much as it was a short complaint that staying inside was boring.
“Good. I shouldn’t have to put up with that crap right now.”
Alex sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Terry. “Relax. I know you feel like we pick on you a lot, maybe even to the point where it stops being funny.”
“It stopped being funny ages ago. Seriously, you couldn’t tell? Or did you just not care until now?”
Alex winced. Combined with Marril’s comment from earlier, Alex could now feel the beginnings of a real depressive mood coming on. She fought off the urge to dwell on the fact that hurting people seemed like all she knew how to do. Her voice was low as she said, “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m sure Marril is too.”
“Ril.”
“You see?” Alex said, hoping Marril would keep quiet and that Terry couldn’t tell Marril actually said no.
Terry sighed. “I can’t stay mad at you anyway.”
“Tell you what,” Alex said. At that point she’d have said anything to make Terry feel better. “I won’t bug you to mess around once you’re better. Gym challenge, bam, on to Darkwood. Sound good?”
Terry managed a smile. Small comfort, but better than the alternative. “Yeah.”
For some reason, David found it nearly impossible not to read the mind of his New Rocket contact, Raleigh. Raleigh was a lean man, barely older than David, sharply dressed in a somewhat odd outfit with a long jacket and knee-high boots. This part struck David as odd given Hat Yai City’s tropical climate. David found the heat of the city centre nearly unbearable, but Raleigh seemed to think it was pleasant.
“It’s dangerous meeting me in public like this,” David commented.
Raleigh shrugged. “I needed to be sure of you. We can’t be sure of every prospective ally to show up at our door, even ones who’ve been in Rocket custody against their will. Come, walk with me.”
David followed Raleigh down the street. He caught a flicker of Raleigh’s thoughts, which gave the locations of several New Rocket operatives keeping watch before Raleigh’s mind buried it. David couldn’t understand why he kept reading Raleigh’s mind even when he tried not to. Did his encounter with Juliet change him so much?
“It was impressive that you survived our operation in Rueni,” Raleigh said casually.
“‘Operation,’” David replied flatly. “That’s what you call it?”
“We needed to shut down Team Rocket’s research and development. The operation was carried out successfully—for the time being, anyway. I admit Samantha Lindstrom’s involvement was something we should have foreseen.”
“Even so, you’ve dealt several massive blows to Team Rocket in only a few short weeks,” David said. “They’re out of Hat Yai. They have no more presence in Darkwood. You’ve got them cornered in Rueni. I think it’s looking pretty good for you.”
“Good, but good isn’t enough. We need to kill Team Rocket entirely or our efforts will be a complete waste.” Raleigh stopped on the sidewalk. “You know, your ‘death’ in Rueni could prove useful. We have an idea of where the Team Rocket executive in charge of retaliating against us is holed up. You could potentially get close to him.”
Roland. David knew the name from a stray thought of Juliet’s. She hadn’t been a fan of him. “I think I can manage that. What do you want me to do with him?”
“How comfortable are you using your psychic abilities to their fullest?”
“If you asked me that a few days ago, I’d have told you where to shove it,” David said. “As it is, I think I could be persuaded to use them.”
Saying those words felt like stepping off a precipice. He hadn’t forgotten his exchanges with Juliet—quite the contrary, he saw them in a new light. Team Rocket hadn’t started viewing him as human. In Roland’s eyes he’d be some inconsequential Other, an opponent to be defeated and forgotten. To humanize him would be to give him a commanding advantage.
“Good,” said Raleigh. “You’ll be the one to lead the next operation. Don’t toy around with him. End him.”
“What if this escalates?” David asked.
“Roland is the biggest gun they can bring to bear,” Raleigh explained. “But by all means, if Giovanni himself steps in, I’ll be more than happy to take him on.”
David nodded. Agreement felt heavy on his shoulders. More than once he considered taking Juliet’s advice, but a larger part of him was opposed to such cowardice. “If you do,” he said, “I’ll be at your side.”
Chapter 10 - Second Crescendo
Yala City simply felt enclosed. It was surrounded on all sides by extremely dense forest, with only a few roads leading in or out. The architecture was old-timey, with narrow streets and nearly nonexistent sidewalks. Every building seemed to be made of stone or brick, tending toward open windows and wooden doors. Buses left and arrived three times a day, at least one of which arriving late at night, as Alex and Terry found out the hard way.
At least Terry had the foresight to book a hotel in advance this time.
While Alex found the city more scenic than the comparatively modern Rueni City, it was a bit rural for her tastes. She was no stranger to rural areas, even if the last time she was in one was a night spent in Pallet Town on the way to the Indigo Plateau. Her attitude toward them was generally to leave as quickly as possible.
Owing to the fact that Yala had a gym, there was a great deal of resources for local trainers. Upon Alex’s discovery that this included contest supplies, her first priority wasn’t to register a challenge at the gym, but to drag Terry along on a shopping trip.
“I sure hope you’re not going to buy this overpriced crap,” Terry commented, examining a blue pokéblock.
“Nah,” Alex said. “The markup on premade is horrible.”
“Going the berry route?”
Alex nodded. “I thought I could try my hand at the whole poffin thing.”
“Have you ever actually made any before?”
“Nope.”
“You know how to make them, right?”
“More or less.”
“You at least have a poffin case to store them?”
“Nope.”
Terry sighed. “Seriously, Alex, did you plan this out at all?”
“Look, I wasn’t expecting a Feebas,” Alex said. She looked through the berry stock, most of it fairly dire. Oran berries were very affordable, though she doubted she’d get anywhere near enough of a supply. Wiki berries were in stock, but while Alex wasn’t quite sure about the yen-baht exchange rate, she suspected they were grossly overpriced. “All I knew was that fishing place looked amateurish enough that they wouldn’t know how to value things. I was expecting maybe a cheap Staryu or something, maybe a Wooper or Barboach.”
“Fair enough, I guess. But still, Whiscash doesn’t seem your type,” Terry commented.
“What, and Qua-a-a-a-a-a-a-agsire does?” Alex asked, drawing out the name in what she figured was a fair approximation of how Quagsire sounded.
“Quagsire are cute.”
“No arguing that,” Alex admitted. Had Marril been there, she might have thrown a minor fit at Alex calling another Pokémon cute. Alas, the store didn’t allow Pokémon inside. The thought of Marril’s complaints and Terry’s inevitable longsuffering reaction made Alex smile. Despite the joke, she had to agree that the prospect of training a Whiscash didn’t appeal to her—after Magikarp and now Feebas, she figured herself done with fish Pokémon.
And here she was competing in the Neo League, which all but mandated that either you train your Pokémon very well, or you used naturally powerful Pokémon without regard for trainer preference. She had a feeling the championships would be a mix of both, which was why she was so keen to evolve Feebas as soon as possible, and why she put such a priority on coaxing Wartortle to evolve. As it stood, her combat-ready team consisted solely of Gyarados, Golduck, and Gastrodon.
I really, really need to get Milotic or Blastoise to break up that G nonsense, Alex thought. There was also the option of catching a sixth Pokémon, as Marril wasn’t registered for competitive battle, but the thought of trying to train three Pokémon on the fly in a league way above what she was used to didn’t appeal to Alex.
Terry poked through some pecha berries. “You know, I might pick up some of these.”
“Your Pokémon like sweet berries?” Alex asked.
“No,” Terry replied, grinning. “I do.”
Well, there was no denying that some berries were better eaten by trainers than their Pokémon. Alex couldn’t deny she was considering picking up a few rawst and aspear berries for herself.
You know what, Alex thought. I think I will.
Sam was so engrossed in reading e-mail that she didn’t hear Melanie come up behind her. She jolted in her seat as Melanie caught her with a hug from behind.
“Whoa, hey, it’s just me,” Melanie said.
“I… I know, it’s just…” Sam trailed off. She turned her chair around to face Melanie. Sam had no idea how to explain that she was fine with the previous night but needed a bit more time to be ready for spontaneous physical contact.
Melanie smiled. “Something got you worked up?”
“Not really,” Sam gave the only politic answer. She was too embarrassed to say outright that this was her first “real” relationship, and that she was having a harder time going forward than she let on. Not that her act seemed to fool Melanie any, but being dragged ahead was better than being too scared to take the steps herself.
As much as the Team Rocket attack was proving difficult to move past, it gave Sam a chance to see Melanie more. Melanie took the opportunity to help Sam redecorate and make her place seem more like an actual home rather than simply somewhere one lived. Her living room already more than lived up to the name. Sam wondered what Melanie had in store for the other rooms.
“So,” said Melanie, glancing at Sam’s screen, “you’ve been at this for a while now. Is your brother that interesting?”
Sam shook her head. For some reason, no one ever figured Alex to be a woman going on name alone. “My sister, actually. She’s doing a Neo League challenge. I actually wanted to invite her over at some point while she was still in Rueni, but work got hectic and then yeah, there was that Team Rocket stuff.”
Melanie looked oddly amused as she scanned the screen. The e-mail itself was simply a few paragraphs from Alex about their trip out to Yala, about Alex buying an underpriced Feebas, and about Terry getting sick from eating too many berries the previous night. Sam had to admit the Feebas story was slightly funny if nothing else.
“It’s a shame,” Melanie commented. “I’d have liked to meet her. This Terry guy seems interesting too.”
“Meh,” Sam said. “I’ve met him. I don’t know why Alex chose him as her partner.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Melanie said. She patted Sam on the shoulder. Sam tried to let herself enjoy it. “Come on, now, you said you’d be ready for lunch in ‘just a minute’ an hour ago.”
“Fine, fine,” Sam said as she got up and turned off the monitor. Once again she cursed herself for her excessive anxiety—she’d been looking forward to this lunch date, and now she’d feel all afternoon like she ruined it.
Just when it seemed like things were finally going right, she thought, something had to come along and ruin it. Story of my bloody life.
Alex reached into the bathtub and swirled the water around a little. She was careful not to disturb it too much. She only needed Feebas’ attention. The fish’s mood was nearly impossible to determine, as it did little else but float in whatever water she put it. It was only with some experimentation that she discovered Feebas preferred warm water to cold.
“Marril-mar,” Marril said from the edge of the tub. She sat with her tail dangling into it, bobbing on the water’s surface. Feebas paid the buoy no mind.
“Oh, come on, Feebas,” Alex groaned, holding another poorly-cooked poffin out at the fish. “These are good. You liked these before, right?”
Feebas, naturally, didn’t respond, unless Alex was to count floating helplessly as response. It ate the first few poffins Alex offered it the previous night, but today didn’t seem hungry. Alex wondered if it somehow knew about Terry getting sick.
“Mar-Marril,” Marril said, asking if she could try to feed Feebas.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Alex replied, giving the poffin to Marril.
Marril nibbled one of the ends off the poffin, chewed for a few seconds, then spat out the bite in disgust. “Mar-mar-Marril. Ril.”
“I get it, I’m a lousy chef,” Alex said. Marril’s reminder stung more than it should have. “Tell me something I don’t know. I mean, look, Feebas doesn’t have a sense of taste, does it?”
“Ril? Marril.”
“Maybe you’d have better luck asking it.”
Marril turned to Feebas. “Mar-Marril-ril-ril?”
Feebas didn’t move, but its eyes glanced at Marril for a brief second. It replied with a few weak glub-glub sounds.
“Marril-Marril, mar-mar-Marril.”
“All right, so Feebas is a he,” Alex said. “Did he tell you anything else?”
“Ril.”
Alex sighed and leaned dejectedly against the edge of the tub. This plan was a lot simpler in her head, but somehow got a lot harder in its trip to real life. She reached over to the side, where Feebas’ pokéball lay leaning against the wall, and picked it up without looking at it. She recalled Feebas and drained the tub.
“So was it really that bad?” Alex asked as she stood up.
“Mar.”
Disbelieving, Alex took the same poffin Marril tried and bit off the other end. She choked that small bite down and felt no desire to have a second. While it was tempting to blame the berries themselves, the aspear berries she had the previous night were delicious, and the one oran berry she snuck wasn’t bad either.
“Well, you’d still eat them anyway if you knew they’d make you evolve into something like Milotic,” Alex pointed out.
“Ril,” Marril replied. “Marril-Marril-Marril, mar-mar.”
“Why do I talk to you, again?” Alex wondered. Marril’s response was simply to restate its reason for not evolving, which was that the transition from Azurril to Marril was bad enough, and that going from Marril to Azumarril would be even worse.
Alex knocked on the doorframe as she stepped out of the bathroom. “Hey, Terry, doing any better?”
Terry swore at Alex, which made her smile as she saw him lying on his bed, back to the window. If anything lent credence to the “bad berry” theory, this would be it.
Marril hopped up onto Alex’s bed and looked at Terry. “Mar-mar?”
“Don’t,” Terry groaned before Alex could offer a translation. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Alex said truthfully. Marril’s comment wasn’t even about Terry so much as it was a short complaint that staying inside was boring.
“Good. I shouldn’t have to put up with that crap right now.”
Alex sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Terry. “Relax. I know you feel like we pick on you a lot, maybe even to the point where it stops being funny.”
“It stopped being funny ages ago. Seriously, you couldn’t tell? Or did you just not care until now?”
Alex winced. Combined with Marril’s comment from earlier, Alex could now feel the beginnings of a real depressive mood coming on. She fought off the urge to dwell on the fact that hurting people seemed like all she knew how to do. Her voice was low as she said, “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m sure Marril is too.”
“Ril.”
“You see?” Alex said, hoping Marril would keep quiet and that Terry couldn’t tell Marril actually said no.
Terry sighed. “I can’t stay mad at you anyway.”
“Tell you what,” Alex said. At that point she’d have said anything to make Terry feel better. “I won’t bug you to mess around once you’re better. Gym challenge, bam, on to Darkwood. Sound good?”
Terry managed a smile. Small comfort, but better than the alternative. “Yeah.”
For some reason, David found it nearly impossible not to read the mind of his New Rocket contact, Raleigh. Raleigh was a lean man, barely older than David, sharply dressed in a somewhat odd outfit with a long jacket and knee-high boots. This part struck David as odd given Hat Yai City’s tropical climate. David found the heat of the city centre nearly unbearable, but Raleigh seemed to think it was pleasant.
“It’s dangerous meeting me in public like this,” David commented.
Raleigh shrugged. “I needed to be sure of you. We can’t be sure of every prospective ally to show up at our door, even ones who’ve been in Rocket custody against their will. Come, walk with me.”
David followed Raleigh down the street. He caught a flicker of Raleigh’s thoughts, which gave the locations of several New Rocket operatives keeping watch before Raleigh’s mind buried it. David couldn’t understand why he kept reading Raleigh’s mind even when he tried not to. Did his encounter with Juliet change him so much?
“It was impressive that you survived our operation in Rueni,” Raleigh said casually.
“‘Operation,’” David replied flatly. “That’s what you call it?”
“We needed to shut down Team Rocket’s research and development. The operation was carried out successfully—for the time being, anyway. I admit Samantha Lindstrom’s involvement was something we should have foreseen.”
“Even so, you’ve dealt several massive blows to Team Rocket in only a few short weeks,” David said. “They’re out of Hat Yai. They have no more presence in Darkwood. You’ve got them cornered in Rueni. I think it’s looking pretty good for you.”
“Good, but good isn’t enough. We need to kill Team Rocket entirely or our efforts will be a complete waste.” Raleigh stopped on the sidewalk. “You know, your ‘death’ in Rueni could prove useful. We have an idea of where the Team Rocket executive in charge of retaliating against us is holed up. You could potentially get close to him.”
Roland. David knew the name from a stray thought of Juliet’s. She hadn’t been a fan of him. “I think I can manage that. What do you want me to do with him?”
“How comfortable are you using your psychic abilities to their fullest?”
“If you asked me that a few days ago, I’d have told you where to shove it,” David said. “As it is, I think I could be persuaded to use them.”
Saying those words felt like stepping off a precipice. He hadn’t forgotten his exchanges with Juliet—quite the contrary, he saw them in a new light. Team Rocket hadn’t started viewing him as human. In Roland’s eyes he’d be some inconsequential Other, an opponent to be defeated and forgotten. To humanize him would be to give him a commanding advantage.
“Good,” said Raleigh. “You’ll be the one to lead the next operation. Don’t toy around with him. End him.”
“What if this escalates?” David asked.
“Roland is the biggest gun they can bring to bear,” Raleigh explained. “But by all means, if Giovanni himself steps in, I’ll be more than happy to take him on.”
David nodded. Agreement felt heavy on his shoulders. More than once he considered taking Juliet’s advice, but a larger part of him was opposed to such cowardice. “If you do,” he said, “I’ll be at your side.”
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JewelQuest
New Member
I'm enjoying it, love the Feebas-Marril-Alex scene.
(So yeah, it's been about two weeks since the last chapter. That's what getting behind on your Nanowrimo while simultaneously attempting to write long reports will do to you. Anyway, I'm keeping the second gym leaders as references to that old fanfic from the original Gym, Hitmonchan's Diary, although I was too lazy to try and find that fanfic just to read what the characters looked like, so I made that part up myself. Long-time TCG players should notice that their Pokémon are based on the Base Set Pokémon of yore. Other cameos that were present in the original SS are planned to be removed. Finally, I should probably make it explicit that, this being a setting where legendaries are, well, legendary, even higher-end gym leaders and League participants use Pokémon that would be considered laughable in online battle, yet in reality are, given the "meta," very powerful when trained well. Hence an unevolved Electabuzz, to say nothing of some of the Rueni gym's Pokémon.)
The Yala City gym was unspectacular, simply a building with a pokéball sign marked “Gym.” Inside was a small foyer, a few rooms off to the sides, and the door to the arena. The arena itself was simply a large dugout pit in the middle of a very large room. Alex’s first thought was that it looked almost gladiatorial.
One of the gym leaders was named Stephen, and like the gym he was completely unremarkable: average height, brown hair, nondescript clothes, and looking to be in his mid-to-late-twenties. Alex would’ve had a hard time picking him out of a police lineup. That guy? No, the guy to his left. The other gym leader was named Keith, who looked about the same age as Stephen. His dark hair was tied back into a short ponytail, and his eyes were a piercing shade of green.
“They use a Hitmonchan and Electabuzz team,” Terry explained to Alex before the match started. He glanced over the pit and at Keith. “Electabuzz. Not Electivire. No one knows why, but they’re well trained.”
“That means Gastrodon, I guess,” Alex said.
“I’ll use Flareon.”
“Why not Espeon?”
“Someone like Stephen’s going to be prepared for psychics. Flareon’s pretty good offensively—he’ll manage.”
Alex nodded.
The ref at the side of the arena raised his flags. “This battle will be one Pokémon each, with no substitutions. Battle will continue until both trainers of a single side have been defeated. Weather effects are illegal. The battle will commence once all Pokémon are on the field.”
With that, the ref threw down his flags. The four trainers sent out their Pokémon, gym leaders slightly slower than the challengers.
“Hitmonchan, jab Gastrodon!” Stephen shouted.
“Monchan,” Hitmonchan said, acknowledging the order. He rushed in at Gastrodon and delivered a quick, brutal jab to the blue and green slug’s face. Gastrodon held its ground.
“Electabuzz, Thundershock!” Keith called out.
Electabuzz beat its chest with its fists, electricity sparking over its hands. It thrust its hands forward and the electricity arced at Flareon. Flareon flinched, the bolt dealing little damage but threatening to paralyze it. With a defiant shake of its mane, Flareon resisted the paralytic effect.
“Scald!” Alex ordered the counterattack.
As Gastrodon spewed a stream of boiling hot water at Hitmonchan, Terry ordered, “Flareon, Fire Spin!”
The cyclone of fire parted the battlefield, keeping Electabuzz from easily reinforcing Hitmonchan. Flareon, however, could easily leap through the flames to aid Gastrodon if Alex needed it.
“Hitmonchan, Haymaker!” Stephen ordered.
“Hit-Hitmonchan,” Hitmonchan said. It closed in with Gastrodon and rocked the slug with a punch twice as powerful as its jab.
Well, this is no good, Alex thought sourly. “Gastrodon, Toxic!”
Gastrodon spat a thick black liquid at Hitmonchan. The boxer hacked and coughed as the sludge hit its face, and tried to spit out what got into his mouth.
“Now Recover,” Alex followed up the previous order. Gastrodon’s bruises slowly faded while Hitmonchan refocused following the poisonous attack.
Keith frowned. “Electabuzz, Thundershock again!”
Residual charge still sparking at its fingertips, Electabuzz extended its other arm and sent a bolt of electricity towards Flareon. This time Flareon couldn’t resist the paralytic effects of electrocution, and while he stood his ground, his legs trembled.
“Flareon, go reinforce Gastrodon,” Terry said.
Flareon attempted to leap through the flames, but stumbled and hit the ground face-first. He slowly stood up and limped towards the flames, only to stop at Terry’s order.
I can’t Earthquake like this, Alex thought. Scald didn’t really seem to do much either. Gastrodon can’t outlast Hitmonchan’s attacks before going down. Guess I have to gamble.
“Gastrodon, Muddy Water!” Alex shouted.
Burbling oddly and with fluid oozing out of his body and into the arena floor, Gastrodon kneaded his stubby legs into the developing mud. He then kicked the mud at Hitmonchan, who fell over from the force of the blow. Hitmonchan’s movements as he stood up were twitchier than normal—clearly the poison was beginning to take hold.
Unfortunately, the muddy water also hit the flames separating the two halves of the arena. While it didn’t extinguish them entirely, it had a significant narrowing effect on them.
“Electabuzz, go through the flames and reinforce Hitmonchan,” Keith said.
“Flareon, Flamethrower!” Terry ordered.
The jet of flame didn’t strike Electabuzz directly, but a glancing blow along its path halted it.
“Haymaker again,” Stephen commanded.
This punch caught Gastrodon full in the face, causing the slug to flinch in pain.
“Now Jab.”
Another quick punch rocked the side of Gastrodon’s head. Gastrodon seemed disoriented following the blows, and wobbled in place, eyes unable to focus on Hitmonchan.
“Recover!” Alex tried in despertion.
Gastrodon burbled in pain, unable to focus on recovering from its wounds. Another Haymaker from Hitmonchan struck it, and Gastrodon slumped to the floor, unconscious.
“Well, I guess it’s all up to you,” Alex grumbled to Terry as she recalled her Pokémon.
“Yeah, no pressure, eh?” Terry asked. “Guess I just gotta keep Flareon away from Electabuzz. Lava Plume!”
Flareon hunkered down and growled. Flames swirled around his body, and with a yelp they exploded around him. Tendrils of fire swept through the air, superheating it. Electabuzz hacked and coughed as it breathed, lungs damaged by the heat and smoke.
“Thunder Punch!” Keith ordered in desperation.
Electabuzz was able to muster up enough strength to charge at Flareon, right fist sparking. Its punch hit Flareon in the flank, the force of the impact sending a jolt back at Electabuzz, who recoiled in pain.
“Fire Blast,” Terry said, a quiet weight in his voice.
Given the close quarters and Electabuzz’s respiration issues, it had no way of dodging the flames Flareon spewed at it. Its yellow and black fur singed as it was forced back, and it hit the ground unmoving.
“That could’ve been worse,” Terry mumbled. He swore. “I’m going to need something amazing if we’re to win this.”
“No pressure, seriously,” Alex said, hoping this would reassure him. “We only need eight badges and there are, what, twenty, twenty-five gyms in the country?”
“Yeah, but our win/loss ratio is still important,” Terry reminded her as he focused intently on Flareon. The fire preventing Hitmonchan from advancing on him was dying down, and Hitmonchan spent most of its time alone bulking up, yet looking increasingly sickly as the poison began overwhelming him.
The flames receded to a point where Hitmonchan was able to leap over them, fist cocked back. Flareon was saved a potentially battle-ending blow through the appearance of a shimmering barrier a heartbeat before Terry shouted, “Protect!”
“Looks like Flareon’s smarter than you’re giving him credit for,” Alex remarked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Terry grumbled, watching Hitmonchan hit Flareon with another quick jab. Flareon endured the blow, but couldn’t take another. “Oh boy, Exeggute in one basket time. Flareon, Overheat!”
With his momentum built up, Hitmonchan couldn’t dodge the white-hot jet of fire, which caught him full in the chest and sent him flying. He crashed against the side of the arena, bounced off, and rolled back along the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his chest, blackened and charring white around the centre.
Rather than allowing the battle to draw out even further, the ref raised a flag and declared, “Hitmonchan is unable to battle. The winners are our challengers.”
“Aren’t League battles supposed to be nonlethal?” Alex asked.
“Hitmonchan will live,” Terry said. “I’ve seen Pokémon take worse burns. Can’t deny I feel bad, though. That’s got to hurt.”
The look on Stephen’s face as he came over to present their Vision Badges suggested to Alex that Terry’s guilt may indeed have been genuine. His was the look of a man whose anger’s sole restraint was protocol.
Alex couldn’t tell if her ability to divert her focus from that to her own wounded pride was a good thing or not. Once again, she’d managed to do nothing more than stall out one of her opponents and get taken out of the fight early. Once again, she managed to rely entirely on Terry to see them through the battle. Once again, she was going to have to go back to the hotel and sleep off the depression this triggered in her.
She closed her hand around the small metal pin, not knowing if she could take this six more times.
It was odd meeting Juliet at her home. Melanie had never been to her Rueni residence before, even though she’d worked with Juliet pretty much constantly since she graduated Azure Heights several years prior. She’d been to Juliet’s Kanto residence, but that place was far smaller. Still, it was nice to see her someplace other than work for once. Juliet had been and continued to be somewhat of a mother figure, albeit a somewhat dark one owing to their shared profession.
Mismagius greeted Melanie through the door. It was a somewhat unorthodox greeting, as Mismagius’ first action was to recite an odd-sounding incantation. Mismagius then floated back through the door.
Guess that means come in, Melanie thought. She tried the door and found it unlocked.
“Hello?” Melanie called out once she stepped inside.
This time, Melanie was greeted by Sableye, which had an almost feline ability to trip her up. She treaded carefully past the jewel-eyed ghost and met Juliet in the living room. Juliet was sitting on the couch with Sneasel curled up beside her.
“Please have a seat,” Juliet said without looking up, indicating the recliner.
Melanie checked to make sure Banette wasn’t occupying the chair already before sitting down. The last time she accidentally sat on a ghost was more embarrassing than painful, but still an experience she didn’t want to repeat.
“So,” Juliet said once Melanie was seated. She indicated several papers spread out over the table. “The good news is we have a new place lined up. If all goes well, we should be settled in within two weeks.”
“That makes it sound like the bad news will be pretty lengthy,” Melanie commented. She eyed the floor plan of the new facility. It was titled Beta Site, which she figured to be the name it’d be filed under within Team Rocket databases.
“Giovanni is doing two things,” Juliet explained. “The first is that equipment and personnel are to be transferred from Japan to facilitate ease of setting up this new lab.”
“Won’t that raise suspicion amongst the staff?” Melanie asked. “I’ve gotten some awkward questions from some of them.”
“Giovanni’s orders, not mine. I trust he knows what he’s doing. Most of this can be written off with sufficient amounts of accounting voodoo to keep actual costs and assets buried away from prying eyes. It shouldn't raise much suspicion. The more disconcerting news is that Giovanni is dispatching yet another executive to take explicit control of Team Rocket affairs with Roland.”
“Well, I guess that solves that power struggle,” Melanie mused. She wasn’t thrilled at the prospect, but could admit that they needed a leader with shrewd tactical sense to combat the false Rockets. “Is it any of the executives we know?”
Juliet frowned. “Yes. Executive Kenneth.”
“… Well then,” Melanie said. “I guess Giovanni isn’t screwing around after all.”
While Melanie hadn’t met Kenneth personally, Juliet had talked about him a few times. Assuming she hadn't been exaggerating, Kenneth was probably the most dangerous person within Team Rocket, the sort of person you're thankful to have on your side so long as you discreetly ignore his methods. Kenneth was, in fact, the one who sent the order not to pursue Alex Lindstrom in Rueni. She wondered yet again if she could somehow find out anything from Sam regarding Alex’s apparent Team Rocket connection.
“So why Kenneth?” Melanie asked after a moment.
“Probably because the ‘New Rockets’ don’t know about him,” Juliet explained. “I couldn’t guess past that.”
“Talk about bringing the biggest gun to bear. What are the two of us supposed to do?”
Juliet slid a printout over to Melanie, who picked it up and glanced it over. It was a hard copy of a message from Giovanni, ordering Juliet to prioritize development of Beta Site and authorizing use of conventional criminal elements to acquire New Rocket assets. This was a cutely euphemistic way of telling them to make use of whatever thugs and lowlifes hadn’t joined the New Rockets to build up more of a presence, a distraction from Roland and Kenneth’s operations.
What it lacked in glamour, it certainly made up for in safety. Melanie trusted herself to deal with petty criminals over New Rocket agents any day.
“What if they attack again?” Melanie asked. “They won’t be caught off-guard by Sam a second time.”
“If they best Sam, I don’t see what the rest of us could reasonably do.”
“My Hitmonlee racked up an entire League team’s worth of casualties,” Melanie pointed out. She didn’t want to add that this included two confirmed kills, even though only one, the Golem, was premeditated. Heat of the moment was hardly a justifiable excuse. Regardless, the attack consisted of dozens of Pokémon. Taking only six or seven down wasn't very much.
“Fighting back without a hope of winning is counterproductive,” Juliet said. “All you’re going to do is enrage your opponent.”
“So you’re saying if they can overcome Sam, we should just sit down and take it?”
“I’m saying it’s a viable option.”
“Even when survival is at stake?”
Juliet shrugged and looked to Melanie. “I don’t think we’ll ever be faced with such a no-win scenario.”
“You know,” Melanie said, looking at Mismagius, who was floating about watching the two women talk, “I think there’s a certain level of dramatic irony to our best defense being someone who’d never defend us if she know who we really are.”
“Don’t think that’s lost on me,” Juliet replied as she idly petted Sneasel.
Melanie glanced at Sableye, who was crawling around with canine intent, seeming to look for any errant crumbs on the floor. She tried not to think it ominous that most of Juliet’s Pokémon were ghosts.
Chapter 11 - Nursing Wounds
The Yala City gym was unspectacular, simply a building with a pokéball sign marked “Gym.” Inside was a small foyer, a few rooms off to the sides, and the door to the arena. The arena itself was simply a large dugout pit in the middle of a very large room. Alex’s first thought was that it looked almost gladiatorial.
One of the gym leaders was named Stephen, and like the gym he was completely unremarkable: average height, brown hair, nondescript clothes, and looking to be in his mid-to-late-twenties. Alex would’ve had a hard time picking him out of a police lineup. That guy? No, the guy to his left. The other gym leader was named Keith, who looked about the same age as Stephen. His dark hair was tied back into a short ponytail, and his eyes were a piercing shade of green.
“They use a Hitmonchan and Electabuzz team,” Terry explained to Alex before the match started. He glanced over the pit and at Keith. “Electabuzz. Not Electivire. No one knows why, but they’re well trained.”
“That means Gastrodon, I guess,” Alex said.
“I’ll use Flareon.”
“Why not Espeon?”
“Someone like Stephen’s going to be prepared for psychics. Flareon’s pretty good offensively—he’ll manage.”
Alex nodded.
The ref at the side of the arena raised his flags. “This battle will be one Pokémon each, with no substitutions. Battle will continue until both trainers of a single side have been defeated. Weather effects are illegal. The battle will commence once all Pokémon are on the field.”
With that, the ref threw down his flags. The four trainers sent out their Pokémon, gym leaders slightly slower than the challengers.
“Hitmonchan, jab Gastrodon!” Stephen shouted.
“Monchan,” Hitmonchan said, acknowledging the order. He rushed in at Gastrodon and delivered a quick, brutal jab to the blue and green slug’s face. Gastrodon held its ground.
“Electabuzz, Thundershock!” Keith called out.
Electabuzz beat its chest with its fists, electricity sparking over its hands. It thrust its hands forward and the electricity arced at Flareon. Flareon flinched, the bolt dealing little damage but threatening to paralyze it. With a defiant shake of its mane, Flareon resisted the paralytic effect.
“Scald!” Alex ordered the counterattack.
As Gastrodon spewed a stream of boiling hot water at Hitmonchan, Terry ordered, “Flareon, Fire Spin!”
The cyclone of fire parted the battlefield, keeping Electabuzz from easily reinforcing Hitmonchan. Flareon, however, could easily leap through the flames to aid Gastrodon if Alex needed it.
“Hitmonchan, Haymaker!” Stephen ordered.
“Hit-Hitmonchan,” Hitmonchan said. It closed in with Gastrodon and rocked the slug with a punch twice as powerful as its jab.
Well, this is no good, Alex thought sourly. “Gastrodon, Toxic!”
Gastrodon spat a thick black liquid at Hitmonchan. The boxer hacked and coughed as the sludge hit its face, and tried to spit out what got into his mouth.
“Now Recover,” Alex followed up the previous order. Gastrodon’s bruises slowly faded while Hitmonchan refocused following the poisonous attack.
Keith frowned. “Electabuzz, Thundershock again!”
Residual charge still sparking at its fingertips, Electabuzz extended its other arm and sent a bolt of electricity towards Flareon. This time Flareon couldn’t resist the paralytic effects of electrocution, and while he stood his ground, his legs trembled.
“Flareon, go reinforce Gastrodon,” Terry said.
Flareon attempted to leap through the flames, but stumbled and hit the ground face-first. He slowly stood up and limped towards the flames, only to stop at Terry’s order.
I can’t Earthquake like this, Alex thought. Scald didn’t really seem to do much either. Gastrodon can’t outlast Hitmonchan’s attacks before going down. Guess I have to gamble.
“Gastrodon, Muddy Water!” Alex shouted.
Burbling oddly and with fluid oozing out of his body and into the arena floor, Gastrodon kneaded his stubby legs into the developing mud. He then kicked the mud at Hitmonchan, who fell over from the force of the blow. Hitmonchan’s movements as he stood up were twitchier than normal—clearly the poison was beginning to take hold.
Unfortunately, the muddy water also hit the flames separating the two halves of the arena. While it didn’t extinguish them entirely, it had a significant narrowing effect on them.
“Electabuzz, go through the flames and reinforce Hitmonchan,” Keith said.
“Flareon, Flamethrower!” Terry ordered.
The jet of flame didn’t strike Electabuzz directly, but a glancing blow along its path halted it.
“Haymaker again,” Stephen commanded.
This punch caught Gastrodon full in the face, causing the slug to flinch in pain.
“Now Jab.”
Another quick punch rocked the side of Gastrodon’s head. Gastrodon seemed disoriented following the blows, and wobbled in place, eyes unable to focus on Hitmonchan.
“Recover!” Alex tried in despertion.
Gastrodon burbled in pain, unable to focus on recovering from its wounds. Another Haymaker from Hitmonchan struck it, and Gastrodon slumped to the floor, unconscious.
“Well, I guess it’s all up to you,” Alex grumbled to Terry as she recalled her Pokémon.
“Yeah, no pressure, eh?” Terry asked. “Guess I just gotta keep Flareon away from Electabuzz. Lava Plume!”
Flareon hunkered down and growled. Flames swirled around his body, and with a yelp they exploded around him. Tendrils of fire swept through the air, superheating it. Electabuzz hacked and coughed as it breathed, lungs damaged by the heat and smoke.
“Thunder Punch!” Keith ordered in desperation.
Electabuzz was able to muster up enough strength to charge at Flareon, right fist sparking. Its punch hit Flareon in the flank, the force of the impact sending a jolt back at Electabuzz, who recoiled in pain.
“Fire Blast,” Terry said, a quiet weight in his voice.
Given the close quarters and Electabuzz’s respiration issues, it had no way of dodging the flames Flareon spewed at it. Its yellow and black fur singed as it was forced back, and it hit the ground unmoving.
“That could’ve been worse,” Terry mumbled. He swore. “I’m going to need something amazing if we’re to win this.”
“No pressure, seriously,” Alex said, hoping this would reassure him. “We only need eight badges and there are, what, twenty, twenty-five gyms in the country?”
“Yeah, but our win/loss ratio is still important,” Terry reminded her as he focused intently on Flareon. The fire preventing Hitmonchan from advancing on him was dying down, and Hitmonchan spent most of its time alone bulking up, yet looking increasingly sickly as the poison began overwhelming him.
The flames receded to a point where Hitmonchan was able to leap over them, fist cocked back. Flareon was saved a potentially battle-ending blow through the appearance of a shimmering barrier a heartbeat before Terry shouted, “Protect!”
“Looks like Flareon’s smarter than you’re giving him credit for,” Alex remarked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Terry grumbled, watching Hitmonchan hit Flareon with another quick jab. Flareon endured the blow, but couldn’t take another. “Oh boy, Exeggute in one basket time. Flareon, Overheat!”
With his momentum built up, Hitmonchan couldn’t dodge the white-hot jet of fire, which caught him full in the chest and sent him flying. He crashed against the side of the arena, bounced off, and rolled back along the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his chest, blackened and charring white around the centre.
Rather than allowing the battle to draw out even further, the ref raised a flag and declared, “Hitmonchan is unable to battle. The winners are our challengers.”
“Aren’t League battles supposed to be nonlethal?” Alex asked.
“Hitmonchan will live,” Terry said. “I’ve seen Pokémon take worse burns. Can’t deny I feel bad, though. That’s got to hurt.”
The look on Stephen’s face as he came over to present their Vision Badges suggested to Alex that Terry’s guilt may indeed have been genuine. His was the look of a man whose anger’s sole restraint was protocol.
Alex couldn’t tell if her ability to divert her focus from that to her own wounded pride was a good thing or not. Once again, she’d managed to do nothing more than stall out one of her opponents and get taken out of the fight early. Once again, she managed to rely entirely on Terry to see them through the battle. Once again, she was going to have to go back to the hotel and sleep off the depression this triggered in her.
She closed her hand around the small metal pin, not knowing if she could take this six more times.
It was odd meeting Juliet at her home. Melanie had never been to her Rueni residence before, even though she’d worked with Juliet pretty much constantly since she graduated Azure Heights several years prior. She’d been to Juliet’s Kanto residence, but that place was far smaller. Still, it was nice to see her someplace other than work for once. Juliet had been and continued to be somewhat of a mother figure, albeit a somewhat dark one owing to their shared profession.
Mismagius greeted Melanie through the door. It was a somewhat unorthodox greeting, as Mismagius’ first action was to recite an odd-sounding incantation. Mismagius then floated back through the door.
Guess that means come in, Melanie thought. She tried the door and found it unlocked.
“Hello?” Melanie called out once she stepped inside.
This time, Melanie was greeted by Sableye, which had an almost feline ability to trip her up. She treaded carefully past the jewel-eyed ghost and met Juliet in the living room. Juliet was sitting on the couch with Sneasel curled up beside her.
“Please have a seat,” Juliet said without looking up, indicating the recliner.
Melanie checked to make sure Banette wasn’t occupying the chair already before sitting down. The last time she accidentally sat on a ghost was more embarrassing than painful, but still an experience she didn’t want to repeat.
“So,” Juliet said once Melanie was seated. She indicated several papers spread out over the table. “The good news is we have a new place lined up. If all goes well, we should be settled in within two weeks.”
“That makes it sound like the bad news will be pretty lengthy,” Melanie commented. She eyed the floor plan of the new facility. It was titled Beta Site, which she figured to be the name it’d be filed under within Team Rocket databases.
“Giovanni is doing two things,” Juliet explained. “The first is that equipment and personnel are to be transferred from Japan to facilitate ease of setting up this new lab.”
“Won’t that raise suspicion amongst the staff?” Melanie asked. “I’ve gotten some awkward questions from some of them.”
“Giovanni’s orders, not mine. I trust he knows what he’s doing. Most of this can be written off with sufficient amounts of accounting voodoo to keep actual costs and assets buried away from prying eyes. It shouldn't raise much suspicion. The more disconcerting news is that Giovanni is dispatching yet another executive to take explicit control of Team Rocket affairs with Roland.”
“Well, I guess that solves that power struggle,” Melanie mused. She wasn’t thrilled at the prospect, but could admit that they needed a leader with shrewd tactical sense to combat the false Rockets. “Is it any of the executives we know?”
Juliet frowned. “Yes. Executive Kenneth.”
“… Well then,” Melanie said. “I guess Giovanni isn’t screwing around after all.”
While Melanie hadn’t met Kenneth personally, Juliet had talked about him a few times. Assuming she hadn't been exaggerating, Kenneth was probably the most dangerous person within Team Rocket, the sort of person you're thankful to have on your side so long as you discreetly ignore his methods. Kenneth was, in fact, the one who sent the order not to pursue Alex Lindstrom in Rueni. She wondered yet again if she could somehow find out anything from Sam regarding Alex’s apparent Team Rocket connection.
“So why Kenneth?” Melanie asked after a moment.
“Probably because the ‘New Rockets’ don’t know about him,” Juliet explained. “I couldn’t guess past that.”
“Talk about bringing the biggest gun to bear. What are the two of us supposed to do?”
Juliet slid a printout over to Melanie, who picked it up and glanced it over. It was a hard copy of a message from Giovanni, ordering Juliet to prioritize development of Beta Site and authorizing use of conventional criminal elements to acquire New Rocket assets. This was a cutely euphemistic way of telling them to make use of whatever thugs and lowlifes hadn’t joined the New Rockets to build up more of a presence, a distraction from Roland and Kenneth’s operations.
What it lacked in glamour, it certainly made up for in safety. Melanie trusted herself to deal with petty criminals over New Rocket agents any day.
“What if they attack again?” Melanie asked. “They won’t be caught off-guard by Sam a second time.”
“If they best Sam, I don’t see what the rest of us could reasonably do.”
“My Hitmonlee racked up an entire League team’s worth of casualties,” Melanie pointed out. She didn’t want to add that this included two confirmed kills, even though only one, the Golem, was premeditated. Heat of the moment was hardly a justifiable excuse. Regardless, the attack consisted of dozens of Pokémon. Taking only six or seven down wasn't very much.
“Fighting back without a hope of winning is counterproductive,” Juliet said. “All you’re going to do is enrage your opponent.”
“So you’re saying if they can overcome Sam, we should just sit down and take it?”
“I’m saying it’s a viable option.”
“Even when survival is at stake?”
Juliet shrugged and looked to Melanie. “I don’t think we’ll ever be faced with such a no-win scenario.”
“You know,” Melanie said, looking at Mismagius, who was floating about watching the two women talk, “I think there’s a certain level of dramatic irony to our best defense being someone who’d never defend us if she know who we really are.”
“Don’t think that’s lost on me,” Juliet replied as she idly petted Sneasel.
Melanie glanced at Sableye, who was crawling around with canine intent, seeming to look for any errant crumbs on the floor. She tried not to think it ominous that most of Juliet’s Pokémon were ghosts.
JewelQuest
New Member
Great job! I think that Alex and Terry have too many close to losing wins, lol.
Given that the random notes are like a paragraph long these chapters, I think I'll ditch the distracting italics. Also JewelQuest: Yeah, two narrow wins in a row is a little iffy, but it's necessary to drive Alex's first character arc. Rest assured future gym battles will vary greatly in that regard.
This chapter highlights two things that irk me about writing. The first is that it's very hard to write depression, self-image issues, and other such problems without turning the reader off the story, as it often just winds up coming off as annoying or "emo." Which is actually a problem many real-life sufferers of depression face in expressing their feelings. The second thing is that I acknowledge it's a little ridiculous that almost no Pokémon have nicknames, but this isn't a visual medium. Giving each Pokémon a nickname, while logical, would add yet another layer for the reader to process while parsing text into mental image, which would actually take away from the enjoyment of the story. So, for better or for worse, nicknames will be reserved for show-stoppers like Gilgamesh and Enkidu, even if realistically trainers would be more like Ritchie than Ash, so to speak. Let's ignore that this means Terry once had five Eevees all named Eevee.
Apparently Alex wasn’t going to get the chance to sleep off her depression, as Terry’s first order of business once they got back to their room was to ask if he could talk to her about something. This request, as innocuous as it sounded, added a layer of fear to Alex’s existing feeling of depressive uselessness. In a span of not more than a few seconds, Alex’s mind created an entire conversation where Terry said he’d had it with their string of near-losses, she’d say it was only two so far and that she was working on improving, and he’d say it wasn’t good enough.
Terry sat down on his bed and motioned for Alex to sit on hers. She set a confused-looking Marril down beside her and sat opposite Terry.
“Look, Terry, if this is about earlier…” Alex began, but trailed off as Terry shook his head.
“What, about the gym battle? No, it’s not that,” Terry said. He seemed to have a very strong interest in his knees, and hadn’t made eye contact with Alex since they sat down. “Look, this is going to be one of those really awkward conversations.”
Great. Alex’s fears went from being rejected as a battle partner for gross incompetence to Terry telling her that he couldn’t handle being with her because of how she was born. Still, Terry’s indirect approach meant bracing herself was easier.
“No need for it to be awkward,” Alex said, shrugging. “Be as blunt as you want.”
Terry laughed nervously. “Yeah, that’s not as easy as we’d both hope. It’s like… well… you remember that one talk in Rueni, right? About how it feels different now that you’re, well, yourself?”
“If it’s too awkward for you to be around me anymore, I’ll understand.”
“What? Oh gods no, that’s not it at all,” Terry said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, it’s, uh, wow, no wonder you look like you’re going to jump out of your skin.”
“Oh,” said Alex. Provisionally speaking, that was a relief, even if the minor sting of guessing wrong threatened to grow into something less bearable. “Well, what is it then?”
“It’s just… yeah, it is different, but not really in a bad way, I guess.” Terry took a deep breath. “Basically what I’m trying to say is I’m… starting to find I… like you, Alex. I mean, you know, like you.”
Alex couldn’t deny it was a surprising admission. She’d known Terry for over a year prior to coming out, and she’d thoroughly friend-zoned him without even thinking about it. He took her coming out well enough, and even stayed friends when she took those first awkward steps in transitioning to live as female. He’d been a great source of support, even though he seemed a little more distant once she started, and not in the repressed-attraction way.
“Really?” Alex asked.
Terry nodded. “Kind of silly, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t even know if you like guys or girls. For all I know you just don’t swing this way.”
That was the back-breaking straw. With an involuntary, incredulous laugh, Alex asked, “What do you mean ‘or’?”
“I dunno. It just never came up bef…” Terry trailed off. “Oh, wait, I misheard that. Sorry.”
“You know, when I first heard that most people are attracted only to one gender or the other, I was actually surprised,” Alex mused. She’d take any train of thought other than the suddenly important one. “Must’ve been like 14 or 15 when I learned that. I dunno. My own gender matters so much to me, but I’ve never really cared about other people’s.” She looked at Terry, unable to put off the real conversation any further. “So you actually like me that way?”
“Yeah,” Terry said. “I’ll totally understand if you don’t, uh, reciprocate the feeling, but I wanted to get it out into the open, is all.”
The thought that anyone might ever find her attractive was genuinely foreign to Alex. Terry wasn’t the type to be joking about this, yet it still felt on some level like he must have been. As if no other explanation could fit reality.
“I’m…” Alex said, feeling immensely put on the spot. She hadn’t given the subject any thought at all before, but still felt like she had to answer Terry immediately. Besides, weren’t gut reactions usually better than laboriously thought-out ones? “I’m… not… unwilling to give it a try.”
“That sounds decidedly noncommittal.”
Alex shrugged futilely. “Can’t really give you anything more than that. I don’t know how I feel, really, and I don’t want to leave you hanging without an answer.”
“It sounds better than a ‘no,’” Terry said. It was an obvious enough white lie.
“Sorry,” Alex said.
“Don’t be,” Terry said with a smile.
The prospect of being with Terry felt odd, but, Alex found, it wasn’t undesirable.
Michael glanced sidelong at the young Rocket meeting him in Pattaya City. Their location was newly established, using a local bar as a front. Officially it was closed for renovations owing to new management, which meant that Michael and the younger Rocket member were guaranteed a measure of privacy.
“You’re one of the new guys?” The Rocket asked.
“‘New,’” Michael repeated the word. “There’s a real possibility I was in Team Rocket before you were born.”
“New with regards to the Idaman situation,” the other clarified.
Michael smiled politely. “I only just arrived in the country, if that’s what you’re asking. My name’s Michael.”
“Ryan. I have to say, you’ve managed to get yourself established in a real hurry.”
Shrugging, Michael looked around from the table he was sitting at. The décor wasn’t his style, which was a good thing. “We simply bought the first place we thought would work.” He stood up. “Speaking of this, how goes outfitting the new Rueni laboratory?”
“It’s a slow process,” Ryan said. His eyes followed Michael as the older man stepped behind the bar and mixed himself a drink. “Executive Juliet isn’t always… efficient.”
“From what I understand,” Michael replied, punctuating the statement by downing his drink, which left the wrong kind of burning sensation in his throat, “she’s stuck to her time frame well enough. Tell me, how much of your criticism comes from your own personal issues with Ms. Askacia?”
Ryan’s soft grunt of annoyance gave Michael more answer than his words. “I’d never want to visit her on my own time, but for the sake of Team Rocket, I’m as professional with her as with anyone else.”
Michael started mixing another drink. This one would need to have less of a kick than the last. “Does this matter to the New Rockets?”
“I’m sorry?” Ryan sounded confused.
“Does this matter to the New Rockets?” Michael repeated, looking directly at Ryan. The younger man wavered slightly. “To them, we’re all nameless and faceless. We might as well all look alike and call each other ‘Team Rocket’ in lieu of names, just as we see them as interchangeable rabble, one New Rocket no different from any other.”
“I assume this is the preamble to a lecture about how they’re a collection of individuals just like us?” Ryan asked.
Michael scoffed and leaned against the bar. “We have to live up to their expectations, actually.”
“I see.”
“Never underestimate the power of conforming to expectations. The more people see of you that fits with their prejudices, the more they fill in from those prejudices. How else would we have such a number of young men and women within the New Rocket ranks?”
“Last I heard, several were caught and killed.”
Michael frowned and stared at the drink in his hand, turning the glass idly while watching the light play through it. “A necessary sacrifice.”
Ryan sat on a table opposite the bar from Michael. “This was Kenneth’s doing, I assume.”
“Roland’s methods were judged insufficient.”
“By whom?”
“Kenneth.”
Ryan swore. “You’re telling me one man decided he didn’t like the way the guy in charge was doing things, and decided to grab the reins from him? To waste the lives of good people?”
“Idealism doesn’t suit you,” Michael said slowly. He downed his newest drink and decided against more. While the second one didn’t burn his throat the wrong way, he didn’t want to risk inebriation.
“Ignoring that your idealism is no different except for its labels,” Ryan countered with a scoff.
Michael smiled, looking down at the empty glass. “I said it doesn’t suit you. If you don’t know when to abandon your ideals, you should refrain from developing any to start with.”
A fringe benefit of being in something approaching a relationship with Alex was that Marril was far less of a bother. The only thing more important to the Pokémon than attention was Alex’s approval, and for the time being pestering Terry was counter to that greater goal. Terry doubted this would last, but planned to enjoy it while it lasted.
Being taken out of the friend zone was an awkward feeling. It was subtle, but over the course of dinner at a local restaurant was very obvious in the way Alex seemed a bit quicker to laugh, to smile, to make jokes that weren’t at Terry’s expense. The evening was meant to be a first date of sorts, but wound up feeling extremely close to simply hanging out.
Not that this was particularly worthy of complaint, but still, Terry expected it to be a bit more dramatic.
The two of them returned to the hotel after their meal, and this time Terry didn’t feel awkward at the receptionist giving Terry a knowing wink. A little annoyed, perhaps, but it didn’t feel like it did in Rueni. Alex showed no reaction, and was in fact probably oblivious to it.
“Now then,” Alex said after they’d gotten settled back in, “time to see a fish.”
“You’re still trying the force-feeding method?” Terry asked.
Alex nodded. “I need Feebas to evolve as soon as possible, which means cramming him full of poffins and candy.”
“Mind if I watch?” Terry asked. “This should be amusing.”
“Only if I get to translate everything Marril says,” Alex said.
“You’re the cruelest woman I’ve ever met,” Terry said, shaking his head. “Well, I’m sure Marril’s wit will run out faster than my patience.”
Alex glanced over her shoulder while digging Feebas’ pokéball out of her backpack. “You say this within earshot of her.”
Terry looked at Marril. “She’ll appreciate the challenge.”
“Ma-mar?” Marril wondered.
“Literally that’s ‘I-yes?’” Alex translated. “Her grammar takes a bit of getting used to.”
“I've noticed she speaks in a… I have no idea what you call it, but it’s where each simple sentence is a compound word?” Terry asked.
“Kind of like German nouns,” Alex answered. She stepped into the bathroom, plugged the bathtub, and started running the water.
It was certainly cramped with two people hovering over the tub. Terry wondered if Feebas would feel intimidated by two humans looming over him instead of just one. Alex said the fish was nigh insensate, but no being could be so oblivious to its surroundings that it could simply ignore something so potentially dangerous. Feebas were prey, so doing anything to further their own chances of being eaten was counterproductive to basic survival. Unlike Magikarp, they didn’t have sheer force of numbers to ensure propagation of the species.
Alex turned off the water once the tub was about three-quarters full. She grabbed Feebas’ pokéball and tapped its eye. The ball burst open and Feebas plopped unceremoniously into the water. He beat his fins a little to stabilize himself, and floated on the water’s surface, glassy eyes staring directly at Alex.
“Looks like he knows his trainer,” Terry commented.
“Or just the closest looking thing that might be a predator,” Alex said. She took a poffin, tore off one of the ends, and offered it to Feebas. Feebas ignored the food entirely.
“Maybe he’s full?” Terry suggested.
“He hasn’t eaten today.”
“Ma-marri-Ma-ri-ma,” Marril said. “Marril-ma-ma-ril.”
Alex groaned.
“Well?” Terry asked.
“She thinks you’re right,” Alex translated. “She thinks these poffins don’t even count as food.”
“Want me to try?” Terry asked.
Alex held the remaining part of the poffin out to Terry. “Knock yourself out.”
Terry knelt down beside Alex and reached towards Feebas. Feebas attempted to dodge Terry’s hand, but it only took one more attempt to grab Feebas. Fingers pinching the sides of Feebas’ mouth to hold it open, Terry force-fed him the poffin. Feebas made a sickly gurgling sound as Terry released him, and his eyes focused very intently on Alex.
“I guess that’s one way to do it,” Alex admitted. “I’ve been trying to avoid that method, though.”
“Well, how’d you evolve Magikarp?” Terry asked. “Force-feeding candy, force-feeding poffins, same thing in the end.”
“Actually, Magikarp evolved on her own. Remember, this was back when I was first starting as a trainer, like right at ten. Magikarp was the third Pokémon I caught, so I was stuck without any of the little training tricks I can take for granted these days. There was no way I could’ve afforded enough candy to induce evolution at that age.”
Terry smiled at the mental image of a young Alex trying to get a fish to fight on land rather than flop about uselessly. Terry was somewhat older than ten when he started as a trainer, and he hadn’t focused on League competition, so he had no reason to force his Eevee to evolve. He was all of 16 when she evolved into Umbreon. Thinking about someone walking up to Eevee and prodding her with an elemental stone made him realize just why Alex tried to avoid the rough method with Feebas.
“So,” Alex continued in the wake of Terry’s silence, “while we’re on the subject of evolution, there was something I’ve been wondering.”
“Oh?”
“How did you decide which Eevee would evolve into what?”
Terry’s mind seized up. The last thing he needed was to give an honest answer to that. “Well, uh, I guess I just see what they want to be. You, uh, learn to tell after a little while.”
“I still think it’d be awesome if the last one evolved into Glaceon.”
Terry shook his head. “She’ll evolve into Vaporeon when she’s ready.”
Terry felt a quick, sharp pain in his ribs, and upon looking down realized Alex had prodded him with her elbow. A less charitable definition of “slender” would definitely involve the word “bony.”
“I’m the water trainer here,” she insisted with a grin.
“For now,” Terry said, returning the smile. He cocked his head towards Marril, who was in the water with Feebas, slowly feeding him pieces of a poffin. “Looks like Marril’s made some progress. I guess she’s probably less threatening than we are.”
“More likely she’s just more silver-tongued,” Alex corrected.
Terry eyed Marril with suspicion. “Really now.”
“Ma-Marril-ma-mar-Mar-ri,” Marril said.
“Probably,” Alex said to the Pokémon.
Terry didn’t ask for the translation. He could guess what Marril said. Instead, he gave Alex a hug from behind. She didn’t tense up or flinch. “Well, at least you’ll probably get your Milotic soon.”
“As long as we’re making progress, I don’t mind a little wait,” Alex said with an odd smile, leaving Terry wondering just what she was referring to.
This chapter highlights two things that irk me about writing. The first is that it's very hard to write depression, self-image issues, and other such problems without turning the reader off the story, as it often just winds up coming off as annoying or "emo." Which is actually a problem many real-life sufferers of depression face in expressing their feelings. The second thing is that I acknowledge it's a little ridiculous that almost no Pokémon have nicknames, but this isn't a visual medium. Giving each Pokémon a nickname, while logical, would add yet another layer for the reader to process while parsing text into mental image, which would actually take away from the enjoyment of the story. So, for better or for worse, nicknames will be reserved for show-stoppers like Gilgamesh and Enkidu, even if realistically trainers would be more like Ritchie than Ash, so to speak. Let's ignore that this means Terry once had five Eevees all named Eevee.
Chapter 12 - Different Ways
Apparently Alex wasn’t going to get the chance to sleep off her depression, as Terry’s first order of business once they got back to their room was to ask if he could talk to her about something. This request, as innocuous as it sounded, added a layer of fear to Alex’s existing feeling of depressive uselessness. In a span of not more than a few seconds, Alex’s mind created an entire conversation where Terry said he’d had it with their string of near-losses, she’d say it was only two so far and that she was working on improving, and he’d say it wasn’t good enough.
Terry sat down on his bed and motioned for Alex to sit on hers. She set a confused-looking Marril down beside her and sat opposite Terry.
“Look, Terry, if this is about earlier…” Alex began, but trailed off as Terry shook his head.
“What, about the gym battle? No, it’s not that,” Terry said. He seemed to have a very strong interest in his knees, and hadn’t made eye contact with Alex since they sat down. “Look, this is going to be one of those really awkward conversations.”
Great. Alex’s fears went from being rejected as a battle partner for gross incompetence to Terry telling her that he couldn’t handle being with her because of how she was born. Still, Terry’s indirect approach meant bracing herself was easier.
“No need for it to be awkward,” Alex said, shrugging. “Be as blunt as you want.”
Terry laughed nervously. “Yeah, that’s not as easy as we’d both hope. It’s like… well… you remember that one talk in Rueni, right? About how it feels different now that you’re, well, yourself?”
“If it’s too awkward for you to be around me anymore, I’ll understand.”
“What? Oh gods no, that’s not it at all,” Terry said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, it’s, uh, wow, no wonder you look like you’re going to jump out of your skin.”
“Oh,” said Alex. Provisionally speaking, that was a relief, even if the minor sting of guessing wrong threatened to grow into something less bearable. “Well, what is it then?”
“It’s just… yeah, it is different, but not really in a bad way, I guess.” Terry took a deep breath. “Basically what I’m trying to say is I’m… starting to find I… like you, Alex. I mean, you know, like you.”
Alex couldn’t deny it was a surprising admission. She’d known Terry for over a year prior to coming out, and she’d thoroughly friend-zoned him without even thinking about it. He took her coming out well enough, and even stayed friends when she took those first awkward steps in transitioning to live as female. He’d been a great source of support, even though he seemed a little more distant once she started, and not in the repressed-attraction way.
“Really?” Alex asked.
Terry nodded. “Kind of silly, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t even know if you like guys or girls. For all I know you just don’t swing this way.”
That was the back-breaking straw. With an involuntary, incredulous laugh, Alex asked, “What do you mean ‘or’?”
“I dunno. It just never came up bef…” Terry trailed off. “Oh, wait, I misheard that. Sorry.”
“You know, when I first heard that most people are attracted only to one gender or the other, I was actually surprised,” Alex mused. She’d take any train of thought other than the suddenly important one. “Must’ve been like 14 or 15 when I learned that. I dunno. My own gender matters so much to me, but I’ve never really cared about other people’s.” She looked at Terry, unable to put off the real conversation any further. “So you actually like me that way?”
“Yeah,” Terry said. “I’ll totally understand if you don’t, uh, reciprocate the feeling, but I wanted to get it out into the open, is all.”
The thought that anyone might ever find her attractive was genuinely foreign to Alex. Terry wasn’t the type to be joking about this, yet it still felt on some level like he must have been. As if no other explanation could fit reality.
“I’m…” Alex said, feeling immensely put on the spot. She hadn’t given the subject any thought at all before, but still felt like she had to answer Terry immediately. Besides, weren’t gut reactions usually better than laboriously thought-out ones? “I’m… not… unwilling to give it a try.”
“That sounds decidedly noncommittal.”
Alex shrugged futilely. “Can’t really give you anything more than that. I don’t know how I feel, really, and I don’t want to leave you hanging without an answer.”
“It sounds better than a ‘no,’” Terry said. It was an obvious enough white lie.
“Sorry,” Alex said.
“Don’t be,” Terry said with a smile.
The prospect of being with Terry felt odd, but, Alex found, it wasn’t undesirable.
Michael glanced sidelong at the young Rocket meeting him in Pattaya City. Their location was newly established, using a local bar as a front. Officially it was closed for renovations owing to new management, which meant that Michael and the younger Rocket member were guaranteed a measure of privacy.
“You’re one of the new guys?” The Rocket asked.
“‘New,’” Michael repeated the word. “There’s a real possibility I was in Team Rocket before you were born.”
“New with regards to the Idaman situation,” the other clarified.
Michael smiled politely. “I only just arrived in the country, if that’s what you’re asking. My name’s Michael.”
“Ryan. I have to say, you’ve managed to get yourself established in a real hurry.”
Shrugging, Michael looked around from the table he was sitting at. The décor wasn’t his style, which was a good thing. “We simply bought the first place we thought would work.” He stood up. “Speaking of this, how goes outfitting the new Rueni laboratory?”
“It’s a slow process,” Ryan said. His eyes followed Michael as the older man stepped behind the bar and mixed himself a drink. “Executive Juliet isn’t always… efficient.”
“From what I understand,” Michael replied, punctuating the statement by downing his drink, which left the wrong kind of burning sensation in his throat, “she’s stuck to her time frame well enough. Tell me, how much of your criticism comes from your own personal issues with Ms. Askacia?”
Ryan’s soft grunt of annoyance gave Michael more answer than his words. “I’d never want to visit her on my own time, but for the sake of Team Rocket, I’m as professional with her as with anyone else.”
Michael started mixing another drink. This one would need to have less of a kick than the last. “Does this matter to the New Rockets?”
“I’m sorry?” Ryan sounded confused.
“Does this matter to the New Rockets?” Michael repeated, looking directly at Ryan. The younger man wavered slightly. “To them, we’re all nameless and faceless. We might as well all look alike and call each other ‘Team Rocket’ in lieu of names, just as we see them as interchangeable rabble, one New Rocket no different from any other.”
“I assume this is the preamble to a lecture about how they’re a collection of individuals just like us?” Ryan asked.
Michael scoffed and leaned against the bar. “We have to live up to their expectations, actually.”
“I see.”
“Never underestimate the power of conforming to expectations. The more people see of you that fits with their prejudices, the more they fill in from those prejudices. How else would we have such a number of young men and women within the New Rocket ranks?”
“Last I heard, several were caught and killed.”
Michael frowned and stared at the drink in his hand, turning the glass idly while watching the light play through it. “A necessary sacrifice.”
Ryan sat on a table opposite the bar from Michael. “This was Kenneth’s doing, I assume.”
“Roland’s methods were judged insufficient.”
“By whom?”
“Kenneth.”
Ryan swore. “You’re telling me one man decided he didn’t like the way the guy in charge was doing things, and decided to grab the reins from him? To waste the lives of good people?”
“Idealism doesn’t suit you,” Michael said slowly. He downed his newest drink and decided against more. While the second one didn’t burn his throat the wrong way, he didn’t want to risk inebriation.
“Ignoring that your idealism is no different except for its labels,” Ryan countered with a scoff.
Michael smiled, looking down at the empty glass. “I said it doesn’t suit you. If you don’t know when to abandon your ideals, you should refrain from developing any to start with.”
A fringe benefit of being in something approaching a relationship with Alex was that Marril was far less of a bother. The only thing more important to the Pokémon than attention was Alex’s approval, and for the time being pestering Terry was counter to that greater goal. Terry doubted this would last, but planned to enjoy it while it lasted.
Being taken out of the friend zone was an awkward feeling. It was subtle, but over the course of dinner at a local restaurant was very obvious in the way Alex seemed a bit quicker to laugh, to smile, to make jokes that weren’t at Terry’s expense. The evening was meant to be a first date of sorts, but wound up feeling extremely close to simply hanging out.
Not that this was particularly worthy of complaint, but still, Terry expected it to be a bit more dramatic.
The two of them returned to the hotel after their meal, and this time Terry didn’t feel awkward at the receptionist giving Terry a knowing wink. A little annoyed, perhaps, but it didn’t feel like it did in Rueni. Alex showed no reaction, and was in fact probably oblivious to it.
“Now then,” Alex said after they’d gotten settled back in, “time to see a fish.”
“You’re still trying the force-feeding method?” Terry asked.
Alex nodded. “I need Feebas to evolve as soon as possible, which means cramming him full of poffins and candy.”
“Mind if I watch?” Terry asked. “This should be amusing.”
“Only if I get to translate everything Marril says,” Alex said.
“You’re the cruelest woman I’ve ever met,” Terry said, shaking his head. “Well, I’m sure Marril’s wit will run out faster than my patience.”
Alex glanced over her shoulder while digging Feebas’ pokéball out of her backpack. “You say this within earshot of her.”
Terry looked at Marril. “She’ll appreciate the challenge.”
“Ma-mar?” Marril wondered.
“Literally that’s ‘I-yes?’” Alex translated. “Her grammar takes a bit of getting used to.”
“I've noticed she speaks in a… I have no idea what you call it, but it’s where each simple sentence is a compound word?” Terry asked.
“Kind of like German nouns,” Alex answered. She stepped into the bathroom, plugged the bathtub, and started running the water.
It was certainly cramped with two people hovering over the tub. Terry wondered if Feebas would feel intimidated by two humans looming over him instead of just one. Alex said the fish was nigh insensate, but no being could be so oblivious to its surroundings that it could simply ignore something so potentially dangerous. Feebas were prey, so doing anything to further their own chances of being eaten was counterproductive to basic survival. Unlike Magikarp, they didn’t have sheer force of numbers to ensure propagation of the species.
Alex turned off the water once the tub was about three-quarters full. She grabbed Feebas’ pokéball and tapped its eye. The ball burst open and Feebas plopped unceremoniously into the water. He beat his fins a little to stabilize himself, and floated on the water’s surface, glassy eyes staring directly at Alex.
“Looks like he knows his trainer,” Terry commented.
“Or just the closest looking thing that might be a predator,” Alex said. She took a poffin, tore off one of the ends, and offered it to Feebas. Feebas ignored the food entirely.
“Maybe he’s full?” Terry suggested.
“He hasn’t eaten today.”
“Ma-marri-Ma-ri-ma,” Marril said. “Marril-ma-ma-ril.”
Alex groaned.
“Well?” Terry asked.
“She thinks you’re right,” Alex translated. “She thinks these poffins don’t even count as food.”
“Want me to try?” Terry asked.
Alex held the remaining part of the poffin out to Terry. “Knock yourself out.”
Terry knelt down beside Alex and reached towards Feebas. Feebas attempted to dodge Terry’s hand, but it only took one more attempt to grab Feebas. Fingers pinching the sides of Feebas’ mouth to hold it open, Terry force-fed him the poffin. Feebas made a sickly gurgling sound as Terry released him, and his eyes focused very intently on Alex.
“I guess that’s one way to do it,” Alex admitted. “I’ve been trying to avoid that method, though.”
“Well, how’d you evolve Magikarp?” Terry asked. “Force-feeding candy, force-feeding poffins, same thing in the end.”
“Actually, Magikarp evolved on her own. Remember, this was back when I was first starting as a trainer, like right at ten. Magikarp was the third Pokémon I caught, so I was stuck without any of the little training tricks I can take for granted these days. There was no way I could’ve afforded enough candy to induce evolution at that age.”
Terry smiled at the mental image of a young Alex trying to get a fish to fight on land rather than flop about uselessly. Terry was somewhat older than ten when he started as a trainer, and he hadn’t focused on League competition, so he had no reason to force his Eevee to evolve. He was all of 16 when she evolved into Umbreon. Thinking about someone walking up to Eevee and prodding her with an elemental stone made him realize just why Alex tried to avoid the rough method with Feebas.
“So,” Alex continued in the wake of Terry’s silence, “while we’re on the subject of evolution, there was something I’ve been wondering.”
“Oh?”
“How did you decide which Eevee would evolve into what?”
Terry’s mind seized up. The last thing he needed was to give an honest answer to that. “Well, uh, I guess I just see what they want to be. You, uh, learn to tell after a little while.”
“I still think it’d be awesome if the last one evolved into Glaceon.”
Terry shook his head. “She’ll evolve into Vaporeon when she’s ready.”
Terry felt a quick, sharp pain in his ribs, and upon looking down realized Alex had prodded him with her elbow. A less charitable definition of “slender” would definitely involve the word “bony.”
“I’m the water trainer here,” she insisted with a grin.
“For now,” Terry said, returning the smile. He cocked his head towards Marril, who was in the water with Feebas, slowly feeding him pieces of a poffin. “Looks like Marril’s made some progress. I guess she’s probably less threatening than we are.”
“More likely she’s just more silver-tongued,” Alex corrected.
Terry eyed Marril with suspicion. “Really now.”
“Ma-Marril-ma-mar-Mar-ri,” Marril said.
“Probably,” Alex said to the Pokémon.
Terry didn’t ask for the translation. He could guess what Marril said. Instead, he gave Alex a hug from behind. She didn’t tense up or flinch. “Well, at least you’ll probably get your Milotic soon.”
“As long as we’re making progress, I don’t mind a little wait,” Alex said with an odd smile, leaving Terry wondering just what she was referring to.
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Christmas time is upon us, which means more sporadic updates. Alas. At least people get to see me continuing to slow-roll introductions for the reimagined members of Kenneth's group and get a decent infodump on specifically how the League gym circuit works in the process (plus a thinly-veiled rant at user-imposed online battle restrictons).
Darkwood City was a beautiful place, blending Idama’s usually traditional style with surprising modernization. Nearly every building was adorned by vines, hanging plants, even trees out front. It made Alex think of photos she’d seen of Opelucid City, both progressive and traditional at the same time, like two different cities overlaid atop one another.
Alex and Terry certainly had a lot of time to kill, more than Alex would normally have filled up even in full-on tourist mode, but she didn’t see any reason not to get the gym challenge over with sooner rather than later. The gym itself was very impressive, sporting massive glass doors which refracted light like giant prisms. The floor was made of polished stone and the furniture of high-grade hardwood.
“Excuse me,” said Terry to the woman working at the main desk after she’d ignored them for too long.
“Oh, um, sorry,” said the woman, looking away from the screen. It was tilted so that Alex could glance at it, and she was surprised to see that gaming or social networking weren’t to blame for the delay. “How can I help you?”
“We’d like to schedule a challenge,” Terry said.
“Right,” the woman said. Her nametag read Chloe. “Just… um… give me one second here. Sorry, I’m new.”
“It’s fine,” Terry said.
Chloe tapped a few keys and frowned. “I’m afraid this’ll be one more second…”
Suppressing a sigh, Alex interjected, “Look, if it’s anything like the software we used back in Kanto, control-shift-F4 will save and close out that records screen.”
Chloe blinked as this worked. “Huh. That’s handy. You’re good with this stuff?”
“I did a bit of work at the gym in Cerulean City,” Alex answered. “You learn the shortcuts really fast when you’re the one stuck handling challenges from the rush of kids who’re fresh with their starters after the yearly League new trainer intake.”
“I just missed that time of the year,” Chloe said. “I hear it’s brutal.” She tilted her head. “Cerulean City?”
“It’s in Japan. Kanto region.”
“Ah. Well, it looks like we’re about ready to register. Can I get your names?”
Terry introduced himself, and Chloe entered the name wordlessly. Turning to Alex, she asked, “Yours?”
“Alexandra Lindstrom,” Alex answered.
“Okay. Finally, I’ll just need your trainer cards and we’ll be all set.”
A knot formed in Alex’s stomach. This was always the most awkward part. Trainer cards had to have the trainer’s full legal name, which wouldn’t be a problem for Terry, since going by a diminutive was understandable. Alex could just imagine the scenario that’d play out once Chloe saw her legal name.
Chloe swiped Terry’s trainer card through a machine attached to her computer, and an info screen popped up. Chloe gave it a once-over and hit enter, dismissing it. She repeated this process with Alex’s and the same screen popped up. Chloe furrowed her brow.
“I hate when this happens,” Chloe said. “I probably just made a typo somewhere.” After a moment, she asked, “… Wait, this card says your name is Alexander?”
Alex sighed. In a dry tone, she asked rhetorically, “It does say that, doesn’t it?”
Chloe bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call my supervisor.”
It was as Alex feared. League regulations stated discrepancies between a trainer’s legal and preferred names had to be authorized by someone on the gym’s managerial staff. The Neo League’s rules were copied wholesale from the Pokémon League’s, largely for the reason that trainers would be more comfortable competing in a league that followed familiar rules.
Still, there were no provisions in the books for handling gender-based discrepancies. Inept identity thieves existed and bad trainers would certainly prefer to ruin someone else’s rating instead of their own—but with a name like Alex there was really no excuse. Sure, she could simply be trying to use a nearly homophonic name in the hopes that Chloe wouldn’t notice, but why even consider that possibility given the much simpler and more obvious one?
Terry gave Alex’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She hadn’t noticed him take it.
Chloe’s supervisor arrived in moments, and the look on her face suggested to Alex that this wasn’t the first time she’d been frivolously summoned.
“Is there something wrong?” The supervisor asked.
“Look, Maya, I know this isn’t really a ‘problem,’ but technically I need your authorization, so…” Chloe said, but trailed off as Maya scanned the computer screen intently, glanced at Alex, glanced back to the screen, and sighed.
“I don’t see why you would,” Maya said. Her accent was extremely thick. “It’s obvious this young woman is who she claims to be.”
To keep her mind off the embarrassment of all this, Alex focused on reading her own information. Pokémon League and Neo League ratings were scored independently, although both used the same system. This system operated on individual knockout-to-faint ratio, which skewed the results of double battles. As such, her Pokémon League rating was pretty good, easily in the low professional range, but her Neo League rating was dismal.
So much for that distraction.
“I know,” Chloe said. “I just… you know, with that inspection last week, I…”
“Fine,” Maya said. “You have authorization to override the discrepancy. Which I notice you did on your own with this young woman’s partner.”
Chloe winced. “I’m really, really sorry,” she said as she finished inputting Alex’s information. She gave Alex back her trainer card.
“It’s okay,” Alex lied. The exchange made her sick to her stomach, but she wasn’t the vindictive sort. Taking her feelings out on Chloe wouldn’t accomplish anything.
“Anyway,” Chloe continued. “Um, just to give you the rest of the standard preamble, this gym’s bench number is set to two. Refights can be taken once per season, but with a four-month wait cycle and a rating penalty.”
“Are battles Type A or B?” Alex asked.
“Oh, right. Actually, Type C.”
That figured. Type A was unrestricted—anything short of killing the opposing Pokémon was legal. Type B restricted weather effects and other attacks that altered battle conditions. Type C was the most restrictive, very rarely used, and prohibited certain attacks and even outright banned sufficiently powerful Pokémon. Someone like Sam couldn’t even meet the bench requirements for a Type C gym, which meant Type C effectively banned trainers from competition solely for being too good.
Terry scoffed derisively. “Well, just give us our date and time.”
Chloe nodded and supplied the requested information. Their challenge was two days from then, which gave them plenty of time to get ready. It locked their Pokémon lineup, which meant Wartortle or Feebas evolving wouldn’t help any, but Alex was resolved to maintain her confidence in what she sometimes thought of as the three Gs.
This minor bit of enforced optimism didn’t help Alex as she followed Terry out of the gym, seething not with anger but with frustration. Her mind kept replaying the humiliating scene she had to endure, sparking all manner of unpleasant thoughts she’d never been able to suppress fully. All because two letters out of eighteen weren’t what one woman expected.
Alex supposed she could always complain to Marril, but even Marril’s patience had its limits.
“It’s okay,” Terry said as he gave Alex a hug.
“No it isn’t,” Alex said, unable to meet Terry’s eyes. “I wish it was, but all I can do is pretend.”
Hands still on Alex’s shoulders, Terry said, “If it bothers you, then you shouldn’t have to pretend. Not anymore.”
Alex afforded Terry a hollow smile. She wanted to say that she didn’t think Terry could put up with her if she stopped hiding how hurt these little things made her. That’d be giving Terry too little credit, and she was trying not to be negative all the time.
“Tell you what,” Terry said. “We’ve got the rest of the day ahead of us. I’m sure we can find something fun to help take your mind off this.”
Alex scoffed lightly in amusement. “First things first,” she said. “Lunchtime.”
“I think I saw a promising-looking place on the way here. Feeling up for Greek?”
“Oh, joy. I love food I can’t spell offhand.”
“That’s a no?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “It’s a yes. Learn sarcasm, man.”
“I don’t see that ever happening.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just have Marril teach you.”
Terry's grimace actually did quite a bit to improve Alex’s mood.
“I give up,” Alex said, stumbling out of the hotel bathroom and flopping onto her bed.
“Feebas got you?” Terry asked, not looking up from his tablet. It seemed to be his favourite way to pass the time after all was said and done in a day.
“At this rate he’ll evolve in about six years,” Alex whined, muffled by the fact that she was facedown in the sheets. She rolled over onto her back. “Not even Marril can figure it out. I think I got the short-pokéball Feebas.”
“How can you tell it’ll be that long?”
“His scales,” Alex explained. “Feebas’ scales change colour as they get closer to evolution. I dunno why that is—it has something to do with some chemical in specific berries, I dunno. That’s more Sam’s area of expertise. Anyway, they go from looking all roughshod to iridescent. Feebas’ have only barely started to change and I actually managed to stick every poffin I made down his throat.”
Terry set the tablet aside and focused his attention on Alex. “Even forced evolution takes time. Why not just focus on getting Wartortle to evolve?”
“Because Feebas is registered in my battle lineup,” Alex said. “Every opponent gets to see it before the battle starts. Do you really think I want to be ‘that girl with a Feebas registered for competitive battle’? It looks even more ridiculous than if I had Marril registered.”
“It’s not like anyone will think you’d seriously use him,” Terry pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s just…” Alex trailed off. She rolled over and rotated so she faced Terry when she sat up. “I hate having two of my five being so weak.”
“I’ve got Eevee in my lineup.”
“Yeah, but you can evolve her whenever you think she’s ready. I don’t have any control over Feebas or Wartortle.”
Terry hesitated in his answer. “It’s… not quite that simple. Anyway, your other three are pretty good.”
Alex wondered why Terry sounded so evasive, but decided not to press the issue. She had secrets she wouldn’t want Terry to learn. It was perfectly fair for Terry to have secrets of his own. For all she knew, Eevee was like Marril and simply didn’t want to evolve, and needed time to get used to the idea.
Of course, that also meant Feebas might not want to evolve. It wasn’t like the fish ever said anything intelligible, meaning Alex was reduced to trying to guess what went on in his head.
“This is one of those times I just want to sleep things off,” Alex admitted, flopping back down and staring at the ceiling.
“Running from the problem only works for so long,” Terry said.
“I know that. Gods, do I ever know that. It’s the reason I started hormone treatment at 21 instead of like 14.”
“It’s also the reason you started it at 21 instead of 30.”
“Good point,” Alex conceded. Intellectually, she agreed with the sentiment, but emotionally speaking her regret was simply too powerful. She rolled over onto her left side, facing the wall.
Alex heard a familiar patter of small feet on the carpet behind her, then a soft thump on the bed. She didn’t roll over to face Marril.
“Ma-ma-Marril-ri-Ar-ril-mar,” Marril offered.
“No, that’s fine,” Alex said.
“Ar-ril-ma-mar-ar-Marril,” Marril countered.
Part of having known Alex for over half her life meant Marril knew Alex’s emotional weaknesses. Marril’s offer to make a special appeal to Wartortle wasn’t necessarily something Alex should refuse, but Alex’s desire not to be a burden on others meant too often she refused others’ kindness.
Marril’s retort, that such “humility” came off as selfishness in its own right, was yet another thing Alex understood intellectually but couldn’t internalize on an emotional level. Marril was more than another Pokémon in Alex’s lineup. She was Alex’s oldest friend. So often she was the only confidante Alex had. Refusing something that might help ease the pain Alex routinely shared with her was utterly selfish.
Alex sat back up. “All right,” she said to Marril. “If you think it’ll do anything, anyway.”
“Do I even want to know?” Terry asked as Alex dug her cell phone out of her backpack.
“It’s nothing you need to be afraid of.”
“That’s always good news.”
“I’ll be sure to bring bad news later,” Alex promised as she began to compose a text to Sam.
She was going to need Sam’s expertise after all.
Melanie met a newly detached Team Rocket agent at the lab codenamed Beta Site. The building being newer than the old one, it had a much more modern feel, which was a small but appreciated comfort to Melanie after her efforts trying to follow Giovanni’s orders ended almost uniformly in failure.
The new agent was first to the meeting room. If Melanie’s “dark beauty” as Sam once described it was somehow emblematic of the dark yin of Team Rocket, then this woman was the light yang. She looked to be about the same age as Juliet, and had very fair skin and platinum blonde hair. She also had a certain regality, even nobility to her in her posture, in her stride, in the very way she occupied space.
By contrast, Juliet looked especially haggard as she stepped into the meeting room. While she pretended to lean against the table for effect, Melanie suspected it obvious even to Elizabeth that this was to cover her obvious fatigue. Dark circles under Juliet’s eyes were common, but now they were bloodshot and unfocused. It was very likely she hadn’t slept in days.
“You’re the agent Kenneth dispatched to the Rueni region,” Juliet identified the woman. Her voice was slow and deliberate, with a hint of slurring.
“My name is Elizabeth,” she introduced herself, nodding sharply.
“It seems you’ve already met my assistant Melanie,” Juliet said.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth frowned. “Do you mind if I speak bluntly?”
Juliet laughed softly and pulled a chair out from the table. Sitting down with little grace, she said, “Go ahead.”
“The information you received said that Giovanni sent Kenneth here to work with Roland on the New Rocket situation. That’s not entirely true. Actually, it’s not even remotely true.”
“Shame,” Juliet mumbled. “I’d hoped things would be simple for once.”
Elizabeth looked at Melanie as if to question her trustworthiness discreetly. Melanie ignored the silent accusation. “Kenneth is here of his own volition. We’re working to supplant Roland entirely.”
“Why tell this to me?” Juliet wondered aloud. “My status as Executive is largely for show. I can’t do much to support you, and I certainly can’t do much to stop you. Are you mocking me?”
“Not in the slightest,” Elizabeth assured her. “Roland’s blind to his men channeling money and resources to the New Rockets. Worse, he refuses to acknowledge that this is happening.”
Juliet remained silent. Melanie couldn’t blame her.
“You’re here to prevent them getting Tribo somehow?” Melanie asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “They’re bound to try eventually. With that little attack convincing you that they want to destroy it, not steal it, they’re well-positioned to change their approach to one you aren’t prepared for.”
“I thought isolation was supposed to be why we’re in Idama in the first place,” Juliet said. Theoretically, Idama was enough out of the way that Team Rocket could operate undetected. In reality, Giovanni’s rampant expansionism wound up triggering the formation of the New Rockets. Melanie found herself wishing the Team Rocket higher-ups had left well enough alone and left Juliet in charge.
Apparently Elizabeth agreed. “Someone down the line messed up. That’s why I’m here. Just keep Melanie close—ignore those orders ‘Giovanni’ sent. I very much doubt Giovanni had a hand in them. Actually, ignore Roland completely. Finishing the Tribo Project is your only goal.”
“Easier said than done, given recent events.”
“I’ll worry about that, not you,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve got the people and resources to keep you safe—actually safe, not Roland’s halfhearted ‘send in some people at the last minute’ attempt that wound up costing you your lab.”
“Do I want to know what you intend to do?” Juliet wondered.
“As an Executive, it’s your prerogative to inquire, but I think in this case it would be best if you asked me no questions so I can tell you no lies.”
“Very well. In that case, all I ask is that you keep me apprised of anything that affects me.”
Elizabeth scoffed lightly. “I’m not Roland. I recognize the value of communication.”
“Will that be all?” Juliet asked.
Nodding, Elizabeth said, “I think so. If all goes according to plan, this place should be up and running in days and you won’t have to worry about anything except completing your project.”
Juliet stared at the ceiling as Elizabeth left. In a weary tone she mumbled, barely audible, “At least this boss of the day is letting us play to our strengths.”
Chapter 13 - Three Types
Darkwood City was a beautiful place, blending Idama’s usually traditional style with surprising modernization. Nearly every building was adorned by vines, hanging plants, even trees out front. It made Alex think of photos she’d seen of Opelucid City, both progressive and traditional at the same time, like two different cities overlaid atop one another.
Alex and Terry certainly had a lot of time to kill, more than Alex would normally have filled up even in full-on tourist mode, but she didn’t see any reason not to get the gym challenge over with sooner rather than later. The gym itself was very impressive, sporting massive glass doors which refracted light like giant prisms. The floor was made of polished stone and the furniture of high-grade hardwood.
“Excuse me,” said Terry to the woman working at the main desk after she’d ignored them for too long.
“Oh, um, sorry,” said the woman, looking away from the screen. It was tilted so that Alex could glance at it, and she was surprised to see that gaming or social networking weren’t to blame for the delay. “How can I help you?”
“We’d like to schedule a challenge,” Terry said.
“Right,” the woman said. Her nametag read Chloe. “Just… um… give me one second here. Sorry, I’m new.”
“It’s fine,” Terry said.
Chloe tapped a few keys and frowned. “I’m afraid this’ll be one more second…”
Suppressing a sigh, Alex interjected, “Look, if it’s anything like the software we used back in Kanto, control-shift-F4 will save and close out that records screen.”
Chloe blinked as this worked. “Huh. That’s handy. You’re good with this stuff?”
“I did a bit of work at the gym in Cerulean City,” Alex answered. “You learn the shortcuts really fast when you’re the one stuck handling challenges from the rush of kids who’re fresh with their starters after the yearly League new trainer intake.”
“I just missed that time of the year,” Chloe said. “I hear it’s brutal.” She tilted her head. “Cerulean City?”
“It’s in Japan. Kanto region.”
“Ah. Well, it looks like we’re about ready to register. Can I get your names?”
Terry introduced himself, and Chloe entered the name wordlessly. Turning to Alex, she asked, “Yours?”
“Alexandra Lindstrom,” Alex answered.
“Okay. Finally, I’ll just need your trainer cards and we’ll be all set.”
A knot formed in Alex’s stomach. This was always the most awkward part. Trainer cards had to have the trainer’s full legal name, which wouldn’t be a problem for Terry, since going by a diminutive was understandable. Alex could just imagine the scenario that’d play out once Chloe saw her legal name.
Chloe swiped Terry’s trainer card through a machine attached to her computer, and an info screen popped up. Chloe gave it a once-over and hit enter, dismissing it. She repeated this process with Alex’s and the same screen popped up. Chloe furrowed her brow.
“I hate when this happens,” Chloe said. “I probably just made a typo somewhere.” After a moment, she asked, “… Wait, this card says your name is Alexander?”
Alex sighed. In a dry tone, she asked rhetorically, “It does say that, doesn’t it?”
Chloe bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call my supervisor.”
It was as Alex feared. League regulations stated discrepancies between a trainer’s legal and preferred names had to be authorized by someone on the gym’s managerial staff. The Neo League’s rules were copied wholesale from the Pokémon League’s, largely for the reason that trainers would be more comfortable competing in a league that followed familiar rules.
Still, there were no provisions in the books for handling gender-based discrepancies. Inept identity thieves existed and bad trainers would certainly prefer to ruin someone else’s rating instead of their own—but with a name like Alex there was really no excuse. Sure, she could simply be trying to use a nearly homophonic name in the hopes that Chloe wouldn’t notice, but why even consider that possibility given the much simpler and more obvious one?
Terry gave Alex’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She hadn’t noticed him take it.
Chloe’s supervisor arrived in moments, and the look on her face suggested to Alex that this wasn’t the first time she’d been frivolously summoned.
“Is there something wrong?” The supervisor asked.
“Look, Maya, I know this isn’t really a ‘problem,’ but technically I need your authorization, so…” Chloe said, but trailed off as Maya scanned the computer screen intently, glanced at Alex, glanced back to the screen, and sighed.
“I don’t see why you would,” Maya said. Her accent was extremely thick. “It’s obvious this young woman is who she claims to be.”
To keep her mind off the embarrassment of all this, Alex focused on reading her own information. Pokémon League and Neo League ratings were scored independently, although both used the same system. This system operated on individual knockout-to-faint ratio, which skewed the results of double battles. As such, her Pokémon League rating was pretty good, easily in the low professional range, but her Neo League rating was dismal.
So much for that distraction.
“I know,” Chloe said. “I just… you know, with that inspection last week, I…”
“Fine,” Maya said. “You have authorization to override the discrepancy. Which I notice you did on your own with this young woman’s partner.”
Chloe winced. “I’m really, really sorry,” she said as she finished inputting Alex’s information. She gave Alex back her trainer card.
“It’s okay,” Alex lied. The exchange made her sick to her stomach, but she wasn’t the vindictive sort. Taking her feelings out on Chloe wouldn’t accomplish anything.
“Anyway,” Chloe continued. “Um, just to give you the rest of the standard preamble, this gym’s bench number is set to two. Refights can be taken once per season, but with a four-month wait cycle and a rating penalty.”
“Are battles Type A or B?” Alex asked.
“Oh, right. Actually, Type C.”
That figured. Type A was unrestricted—anything short of killing the opposing Pokémon was legal. Type B restricted weather effects and other attacks that altered battle conditions. Type C was the most restrictive, very rarely used, and prohibited certain attacks and even outright banned sufficiently powerful Pokémon. Someone like Sam couldn’t even meet the bench requirements for a Type C gym, which meant Type C effectively banned trainers from competition solely for being too good.
Terry scoffed derisively. “Well, just give us our date and time.”
Chloe nodded and supplied the requested information. Their challenge was two days from then, which gave them plenty of time to get ready. It locked their Pokémon lineup, which meant Wartortle or Feebas evolving wouldn’t help any, but Alex was resolved to maintain her confidence in what she sometimes thought of as the three Gs.
This minor bit of enforced optimism didn’t help Alex as she followed Terry out of the gym, seething not with anger but with frustration. Her mind kept replaying the humiliating scene she had to endure, sparking all manner of unpleasant thoughts she’d never been able to suppress fully. All because two letters out of eighteen weren’t what one woman expected.
Alex supposed she could always complain to Marril, but even Marril’s patience had its limits.
“It’s okay,” Terry said as he gave Alex a hug.
“No it isn’t,” Alex said, unable to meet Terry’s eyes. “I wish it was, but all I can do is pretend.”
Hands still on Alex’s shoulders, Terry said, “If it bothers you, then you shouldn’t have to pretend. Not anymore.”
Alex afforded Terry a hollow smile. She wanted to say that she didn’t think Terry could put up with her if she stopped hiding how hurt these little things made her. That’d be giving Terry too little credit, and she was trying not to be negative all the time.
“Tell you what,” Terry said. “We’ve got the rest of the day ahead of us. I’m sure we can find something fun to help take your mind off this.”
Alex scoffed lightly in amusement. “First things first,” she said. “Lunchtime.”
“I think I saw a promising-looking place on the way here. Feeling up for Greek?”
“Oh, joy. I love food I can’t spell offhand.”
“That’s a no?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “It’s a yes. Learn sarcasm, man.”
“I don’t see that ever happening.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just have Marril teach you.”
Terry's grimace actually did quite a bit to improve Alex’s mood.
“I give up,” Alex said, stumbling out of the hotel bathroom and flopping onto her bed.
“Feebas got you?” Terry asked, not looking up from his tablet. It seemed to be his favourite way to pass the time after all was said and done in a day.
“At this rate he’ll evolve in about six years,” Alex whined, muffled by the fact that she was facedown in the sheets. She rolled over onto her back. “Not even Marril can figure it out. I think I got the short-pokéball Feebas.”
“How can you tell it’ll be that long?”
“His scales,” Alex explained. “Feebas’ scales change colour as they get closer to evolution. I dunno why that is—it has something to do with some chemical in specific berries, I dunno. That’s more Sam’s area of expertise. Anyway, they go from looking all roughshod to iridescent. Feebas’ have only barely started to change and I actually managed to stick every poffin I made down his throat.”
Terry set the tablet aside and focused his attention on Alex. “Even forced evolution takes time. Why not just focus on getting Wartortle to evolve?”
“Because Feebas is registered in my battle lineup,” Alex said. “Every opponent gets to see it before the battle starts. Do you really think I want to be ‘that girl with a Feebas registered for competitive battle’? It looks even more ridiculous than if I had Marril registered.”
“It’s not like anyone will think you’d seriously use him,” Terry pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s just…” Alex trailed off. She rolled over and rotated so she faced Terry when she sat up. “I hate having two of my five being so weak.”
“I’ve got Eevee in my lineup.”
“Yeah, but you can evolve her whenever you think she’s ready. I don’t have any control over Feebas or Wartortle.”
Terry hesitated in his answer. “It’s… not quite that simple. Anyway, your other three are pretty good.”
Alex wondered why Terry sounded so evasive, but decided not to press the issue. She had secrets she wouldn’t want Terry to learn. It was perfectly fair for Terry to have secrets of his own. For all she knew, Eevee was like Marril and simply didn’t want to evolve, and needed time to get used to the idea.
Of course, that also meant Feebas might not want to evolve. It wasn’t like the fish ever said anything intelligible, meaning Alex was reduced to trying to guess what went on in his head.
“This is one of those times I just want to sleep things off,” Alex admitted, flopping back down and staring at the ceiling.
“Running from the problem only works for so long,” Terry said.
“I know that. Gods, do I ever know that. It’s the reason I started hormone treatment at 21 instead of like 14.”
“It’s also the reason you started it at 21 instead of 30.”
“Good point,” Alex conceded. Intellectually, she agreed with the sentiment, but emotionally speaking her regret was simply too powerful. She rolled over onto her left side, facing the wall.
Alex heard a familiar patter of small feet on the carpet behind her, then a soft thump on the bed. She didn’t roll over to face Marril.
“Ma-ma-Marril-ri-Ar-ril-mar,” Marril offered.
“No, that’s fine,” Alex said.
“Ar-ril-ma-mar-ar-Marril,” Marril countered.
Part of having known Alex for over half her life meant Marril knew Alex’s emotional weaknesses. Marril’s offer to make a special appeal to Wartortle wasn’t necessarily something Alex should refuse, but Alex’s desire not to be a burden on others meant too often she refused others’ kindness.
Marril’s retort, that such “humility” came off as selfishness in its own right, was yet another thing Alex understood intellectually but couldn’t internalize on an emotional level. Marril was more than another Pokémon in Alex’s lineup. She was Alex’s oldest friend. So often she was the only confidante Alex had. Refusing something that might help ease the pain Alex routinely shared with her was utterly selfish.
Alex sat back up. “All right,” she said to Marril. “If you think it’ll do anything, anyway.”
“Do I even want to know?” Terry asked as Alex dug her cell phone out of her backpack.
“It’s nothing you need to be afraid of.”
“That’s always good news.”
“I’ll be sure to bring bad news later,” Alex promised as she began to compose a text to Sam.
She was going to need Sam’s expertise after all.
Melanie met a newly detached Team Rocket agent at the lab codenamed Beta Site. The building being newer than the old one, it had a much more modern feel, which was a small but appreciated comfort to Melanie after her efforts trying to follow Giovanni’s orders ended almost uniformly in failure.
The new agent was first to the meeting room. If Melanie’s “dark beauty” as Sam once described it was somehow emblematic of the dark yin of Team Rocket, then this woman was the light yang. She looked to be about the same age as Juliet, and had very fair skin and platinum blonde hair. She also had a certain regality, even nobility to her in her posture, in her stride, in the very way she occupied space.
By contrast, Juliet looked especially haggard as she stepped into the meeting room. While she pretended to lean against the table for effect, Melanie suspected it obvious even to Elizabeth that this was to cover her obvious fatigue. Dark circles under Juliet’s eyes were common, but now they were bloodshot and unfocused. It was very likely she hadn’t slept in days.
“You’re the agent Kenneth dispatched to the Rueni region,” Juliet identified the woman. Her voice was slow and deliberate, with a hint of slurring.
“My name is Elizabeth,” she introduced herself, nodding sharply.
“It seems you’ve already met my assistant Melanie,” Juliet said.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth frowned. “Do you mind if I speak bluntly?”
Juliet laughed softly and pulled a chair out from the table. Sitting down with little grace, she said, “Go ahead.”
“The information you received said that Giovanni sent Kenneth here to work with Roland on the New Rocket situation. That’s not entirely true. Actually, it’s not even remotely true.”
“Shame,” Juliet mumbled. “I’d hoped things would be simple for once.”
Elizabeth looked at Melanie as if to question her trustworthiness discreetly. Melanie ignored the silent accusation. “Kenneth is here of his own volition. We’re working to supplant Roland entirely.”
“Why tell this to me?” Juliet wondered aloud. “My status as Executive is largely for show. I can’t do much to support you, and I certainly can’t do much to stop you. Are you mocking me?”
“Not in the slightest,” Elizabeth assured her. “Roland’s blind to his men channeling money and resources to the New Rockets. Worse, he refuses to acknowledge that this is happening.”
Juliet remained silent. Melanie couldn’t blame her.
“You’re here to prevent them getting Tribo somehow?” Melanie asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “They’re bound to try eventually. With that little attack convincing you that they want to destroy it, not steal it, they’re well-positioned to change their approach to one you aren’t prepared for.”
“I thought isolation was supposed to be why we’re in Idama in the first place,” Juliet said. Theoretically, Idama was enough out of the way that Team Rocket could operate undetected. In reality, Giovanni’s rampant expansionism wound up triggering the formation of the New Rockets. Melanie found herself wishing the Team Rocket higher-ups had left well enough alone and left Juliet in charge.
Apparently Elizabeth agreed. “Someone down the line messed up. That’s why I’m here. Just keep Melanie close—ignore those orders ‘Giovanni’ sent. I very much doubt Giovanni had a hand in them. Actually, ignore Roland completely. Finishing the Tribo Project is your only goal.”
“Easier said than done, given recent events.”
“I’ll worry about that, not you,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve got the people and resources to keep you safe—actually safe, not Roland’s halfhearted ‘send in some people at the last minute’ attempt that wound up costing you your lab.”
“Do I want to know what you intend to do?” Juliet wondered.
“As an Executive, it’s your prerogative to inquire, but I think in this case it would be best if you asked me no questions so I can tell you no lies.”
“Very well. In that case, all I ask is that you keep me apprised of anything that affects me.”
Elizabeth scoffed lightly. “I’m not Roland. I recognize the value of communication.”
“Will that be all?” Juliet asked.
Nodding, Elizabeth said, “I think so. If all goes according to plan, this place should be up and running in days and you won’t have to worry about anything except completing your project.”
Juliet stared at the ceiling as Elizabeth left. In a weary tone she mumbled, barely audible, “At least this boss of the day is letting us play to our strengths.”
JewelQuest
New Member
Keep on going! I love the Alex-Terry-Marril scenes.
Fun fact, I hate writing gym battles. The double battle system (Bulbapedia, of which I usually have no fewer than 5 tabs open at any given time when writing, tells me that it's actually called "tag battle" but I'm obstinate and thus use "double battle" regardless) is hard to choreograph coherently while preserving dramatic flow. But they're climactic, provide landmarks to the overall plot, and showcase my interpretations of various strategies and mechanics, so there's no fear of me taking the lazy option and skipping them or having them occur offscreen.
The Darkwood City gym matched the rest of the city in splendor. The arena was surrounded by polished marble pillars, and the trainer platforms had display panels that showed a variety of information, such as the relative statistics of Pokémon in the fray as well as their strengths and weaknesses. For a new trainer, this would be an invaluable utility. For one more experienced, it was a needless distraction.
The gym leaders were named Lawan and Mali. Both were Idaman, which was somewhat rare. The Neo League’s efforts to grow as fast as possible meant they imported a lot of foreign talent, including luring away past and present gym leaders from the Pokémon League. Alex lamented that the first fully Idaman gym she came across was Type C—it spoke ill of Idama that its domestic gym leaders hid behind rules to cover a lack of skill.
Still, Alex thought as she looked at the two gym leaders from across the arena, it probably explained why the Darkwood gym was so busy compared to the others. The low-hanging fruit of easy wins would be very tempting to anyone on the gym circuit.
Time to get the battle started.
“Go, Gyarados!” Alex shouted.
Gyarados met Lawan’s Empoleon and Mali’s Emboar alongside Terry’s Espeon. Neither challenger felt the need to be sporting—both their Pokémon were their strongest attackers, and could hopefully sweep through the mediocre gym leaders’ Pokémon with minimal effort.
“Espeon, Psychic!” Terry shouted.
“Gyarados, Dragon Dance!” Alex followed.
Emboar was pushed back by the psychic blow, allowing Gyarados time to focus her power through midair dance. Empoleon attempted to close the gap, but Espeon was able to delay its advance with another psychic attack.
Alex smirked. “All right, Gyarados, I think we can go for one more.”
Gyarados began swirling in midair again. Espeon probably wouldn’t be able to hold off both opposing Pokémon long enough for the serpent to finish her dance, but Gyarados could afford to take a hit or two if it meant becoming nigh unstoppable.
“Espeon, hit Emboar again!” Terry called out.
Espeon ducked into a crouch, eyes glowing fiercely. Emboar writhed in pain and fell to the ground. This attack allowed Empoleon the chance to hit Espeon with a fierce blast of water, sending the psychic Pokémon backward.
“Ride Gyarados,” Alex hissed to Terry.
Terry nodded. “Espeon, leap up onto Gyarados’ back.”
“Earthquake!” Alex shouted.
Espeon’s feet were mere inches off the ground as Gyarados struck the arena floor with her tail, sending a shockwave through it that struck Empoleon and Emboar, knocking the former flat on its back and ensuring the latter couldn’t stand back up.
Alex smirked. Emboar was clearly out of the fight, but it seemed Mali didn’t recognize this. Gyarados’ focus gave her incredible alacrity, and Alex couldn’t deny it was hard to keep up with her Pokémon’s attack speed.
“Aqua Tail,” Alex ordered. “Finish off Emboar.”
Gyarados whipped her tail forward, striking Emboar in the back and forcing it from its knees to the ground. This time, Emboar stayed down. Mali’s scowl was visible from across the arena as she replaced Emboar with Seismitoad.
“You want that one, or should I take it?” Terry asked.
“I’ll do the honours,” Alex replied. “You focus on Empoleon.”
“Yes, ma’am. Espeon, Shadow Ball!”
Espeon leapt down off Gyarados’ back towards the penguin, dark energy crackling around him. A heartbeat before Espeon hit the ground, the blackness coalesced into a ball and shot towards Empoleon. Empoleon couldn’t guard against the attack, although it did relatively little damage.
“Gyarados, Stone Edge!” Alex commanded.
Sweeping her tail forward, Gyarados threw rocks at Seismitoad, then lunged, breaking the rocks against Seismitoad’s body. This was followed by a blast of light striking Gyarados from behind—Lawan was focusing her efforts on taking down Gyarados, and forcing Empoleon to ignore Espeon’s attacks.
“Gyarados, Ice Fang!”
Fangs glowing light blue, Gyarados sunk her teeth into Seismitoad, locking her jaw. Mist formed around Seismitoad as Gyarados drained the heat from the surrounding area. Gyarados spasmed as she was struck by a flurry of rocks thrown by Empoleon.
“My kingdom for a Blissey or something,” Terry mumbled. “Espeon, Psyshock!”
The psychic blast hit Empoleon squarely in the back, knocking it forward. Another blast struck Empoleon, this time enough to knock the penguin out. Lawan switched in Yanmega, who started off by emitting a harsh buzz that even Alex found painful. Espeon couldn’t take the sonic attack and his knees buckled. Seconds later, he collapsed.
“At least this makes my next Pokémon an easy choice,” Terry commented as he recalled Espeon. “Go, Flareon! Flamethrower!”
Flareon wasted no time in identifying the most flammable-looking target and incinerating it. One of the less talked-about aspects of battle training was how to keep one’s Pokémon from getting overwhelmed upon switching into a fight. In a team battle, a freshly switched in Pokémon had to identify its teammate and their status, while also assessing its opponents. This process couldn’t take more than a second or two lest the opponent gain significant advantage from the lost time.
Seismitoad caught the side of Gyarados’ head with a glowing punch, but the serpent held on. Ignoring the fact that Flareon’s flamethrower gave it a serious burn, Yanmega flew towards Gyarados, slashing her with its claws.
“Bounce!” Alex shouted.
Gyarados briefly touched the floor, then sailed up into the air. She dropped Seismitoad to the ground, then lunged, hitting Seismitoad with her full weight. Yanmega ignored yet another blast from Flareon, and blew a silver wind at Gyarados. Gyarados jerked in midair but remained aloft.
Mali’s displeasure was visible from across the arena as she switched in a Mandibuzz, whose first act was to tuck in her wings and dive at Gyarados point-blank. Gyarados was knocked to the ground, her movements slowed from all the damage she’d sustained.
“I think that actually went pretty well,” Alex said as she recalled Gyarados. Gyarados might have had some fight left in her, but there was no need to push her past her limits. For that matter, Alex could afford not to rely on either of her other Gs. “Go, Wartortle! Hydro Pump Yanmega!”
With Yanmega at the far side of the arena, the force of the water was diminished by sheer distance. Nevertheless, the attack was enough to take Yanmega out of the fight. Lawan’s replacement forced Alex to suppress a laugh. A Hippowdon was a terrible choice against a water trainer.
“Fun fact,” Terry said casually. “Those things eat cars.”
“… You’re joking,” Alex replied.
“It’s rare, but it’s been known to happen. Flareon, Overheat!”
The white-hot jet of flames struck Mandibuzz, allowing Wartortle a clear shot at Hippowdon. The hippo’s mass meant it would take quite a bit to down it, but Alex’s elemental advantage was overwhelming. Even Wartortle, the weakest Pokémon she could seriously field, would be able to handle it.
“Fire Fang!” Terry shouted.
Flareon jumped at Mandibuzz, which hadn’t been able to rise very high into the air following the previous blow. Flames flickering from his mouth, Flareon latched onto Mandibuzz, and Alex laughed as Mandibuzz flapped her wings madly, gaining altitude with Flareon hanging off her.
“Wartortle, Hydro Pump!”
Hippowdon charged through the water blast, slowed but not halted. It roared, mouth wide open as it lunged to bite Wartortle.
“Ice Beam!” Alex called.
Wartortle leapt backwards, easily dodging Hippowdon’s bite, and spewed a blue stream of energy into the hippo’s mouth. Hippowdon hacked and retched, shaking its head violently.
“Gods, how are these two even gym leaders?” Alex wondered.
“Welcome to the Neo League,” Terry said dryly. “Flareon, Lava Plume!”
Flareon flipped up onto Mandibuzz’s back, fur exploding into flame. Mandibuzz squawked in pain and fell to the arena floor. Flareon finished with a point-blank flamethrower.
Hippowdon, seemingly incapable of using ranged attacks, lunged at Wartortle once more. This time, with Wartortle backed into a corner, it was able to connect, easily bashing Wartortle aside. Wartortle gave a single pained grunt and slowly climbed back onto her feet.
“Wow,” Terry said.
“Eh?” Alex asked.
“I just looked up the pokédex info on Hippowdon,” Terry said casually, indicating the terminal in front of him. “Looks like I wasn’t joking after all. They really do eat cars sometimes.”
“Hydro Pump again!” Alex shouted, then she swore. “You realize that just because they suck doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention, right?”
“It’s not like we can lose at this point,” Terry pointed out. “Flamethrower!”
Were it better trained, Hippowdon might have been some threat on its own. Certainly, the ability to cause earthquakes would have made it a formidable opponent. Hippowdon was, however, nearly useless relying entirely on physical contact. Alex wondered if Lawan’s heart was in it or if she was simply going through the motions—Hippowdon had the mildly confused look of a Pokémon who expected orders but didn’t get them.
One more pair of attacks later and Hippowdon was knocked out. Wartortle was shaken and looked like she’d be sore for the next few days, but was free of serious injury. Flareon, though slightly worse off, could have weathered a solid blow from Hippowdon and kept on fighting.
Mali and Lawan met Alex and Terry by the side of the arena after each trainer had recalled their Pokémon. The gym leaders were gracious enough as they handed the two challengers their Spirit Badges, but their voices were slightly dulled by the obvious rote nature of their presentation. Neo League leaders weren’t simply expected to lose like Pokémon League leaders. In fact, a Neo League gym leader who lost too often was liable to be replaced. It was all part of trying to ensure the “elite” nature of the Neo League.
The sun was still high in the sky as Alex and Terry left the gym. This time she actually noticed as Terry took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
“Feeling better?” Terry asked.
Alex nodded. “Yeah. Or, well.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “To be honest, I’m fighting the part of me that’s trying to bring myself down with some kind of ‘you can’t win without picking on the weak gym leaders’ argument.”
Terry shook his head. “They were still harder than anyone you fought in Kanto, right?”
“Outside of the regional tournament, yeah,” Alex said.
“There you go. Just think of it like how most trainers skip the Viridian gym because its leader is rougher on challenge scaling than Pewter or Cerulean.”
“Depends on who you fight,” Alex replied. “When I challenged Viridian, the actual leader was in, and he was pretty good about it. I won with just Squirtle and Marril, believe it or not.”
Raising an eyebrow, Terry said, “You’re way too contradictory sometimes.”
“No I’m not,” Alex denied.
Terry scoffed. “Glad you agree with me.”
David glanced at Charizard, then at his partner Liam. The younger man was earnest enough, and hadn’t been too much of an inconvenience. The problem with David’s investigation was that he relied heavily on his psychic abilities, and a non-psychic couldn’t come close to matching his efficiency.
Of course, when you stared down an inquiry gone sour, potential cannon fodder was handy.
The man across the office from David ran a moneylending business widely suspected of having Team Rocket ties. He was ultimately a small, unimportant man, a local whose greatest ambition was to cling to a foreign power in exchange for a meagre profit. This was, in theory, as good a place as any to start working up the chain towards Roland.
In practice, Charizard was potentially going to be the best negotiator in the room.
“Now,” David said. “Sit back down and put the gun on the desk.”
Shan did as he was told, throwing a glare at David and Liam as he slumped back in his seat.
David glanced at Charizard, then returned his attention to Shan. “What you’re going to do is give me access to your records. I want to know everyone you’ve dealt with in the past three months where the transaction exceeds ten million baht. Think you can do that for me?”
Actually seeing the records was irrelevant. Shan’s mind darted to one client in particular he hoped David would pass over. Shan sorted through his records and gave David a list of clients, carefully omitting the name he repeated over and over in his mind.
“You’re sure this is all of them?” David asked.
“It is,” Shan said.
“Mind if I take a look through the records myself?”
“… Yes, please do,” Shan replied at last.
Choosing to entertain propriety was a foreign concept to David. If you had something to hide, you hid it. You didn’t go along with someone knowing full well what they’d likely do to you if you were lying. Damn the consequences of hiding it—the fact that you might emerge unscathed put that option above cooperation.
Shan’s records did indeed show an entry with the relevant name. The associated information contained an address in Pattaya City and several notes about the debtor’s business. From the thoughts racing through Shan’s mind, he knew full well that he was working with Team Rocket, and that the “debt” was simply a means of laundering money. The full amount of the note had already been received, and would be recorded with consistent payments over the foreseeable future.
“I hope you’re finding what you’re looking for,” Shan said with obviously false sincerity accompanied by a forced attempt at a genial smile.
David returned the smile. “Unfortunately not. Perhaps we were wrong about you.”
“If I had any dealings with the Rockets, I certainly haven’t told myself,” Shan added. It was a feeble jab at levity, but a required part of their dance.
It would have been nice to be able to make a joke about not being a mind-reader, but David knew better than to let that possibility enter Shan’s mind even as a joke. While making someone associate a secret with sarcastic humour was an effective means of obfuscation, David couldn’t take any risks.
David visibly skimmed past the entire ledger. “No, I’m afraid I don’t see anything here.”
“Fortunate.”
“Very. I won’t interrupt your business any further, then,” David said. He craned his neck back towards Liam. “Apologize to the good man.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Liam said absentmindedly.
“Charizard, what about you?”
The dragon’s “apology” was, to put it mildly, louder than anyone expected. Both New Rocket members left shortly thereafter.
Chapter 14 - Welcome Reprieve
The Darkwood City gym matched the rest of the city in splendor. The arena was surrounded by polished marble pillars, and the trainer platforms had display panels that showed a variety of information, such as the relative statistics of Pokémon in the fray as well as their strengths and weaknesses. For a new trainer, this would be an invaluable utility. For one more experienced, it was a needless distraction.
The gym leaders were named Lawan and Mali. Both were Idaman, which was somewhat rare. The Neo League’s efforts to grow as fast as possible meant they imported a lot of foreign talent, including luring away past and present gym leaders from the Pokémon League. Alex lamented that the first fully Idaman gym she came across was Type C—it spoke ill of Idama that its domestic gym leaders hid behind rules to cover a lack of skill.
Still, Alex thought as she looked at the two gym leaders from across the arena, it probably explained why the Darkwood gym was so busy compared to the others. The low-hanging fruit of easy wins would be very tempting to anyone on the gym circuit.
Time to get the battle started.
“Go, Gyarados!” Alex shouted.
Gyarados met Lawan’s Empoleon and Mali’s Emboar alongside Terry’s Espeon. Neither challenger felt the need to be sporting—both their Pokémon were their strongest attackers, and could hopefully sweep through the mediocre gym leaders’ Pokémon with minimal effort.
“Espeon, Psychic!” Terry shouted.
“Gyarados, Dragon Dance!” Alex followed.
Emboar was pushed back by the psychic blow, allowing Gyarados time to focus her power through midair dance. Empoleon attempted to close the gap, but Espeon was able to delay its advance with another psychic attack.
Alex smirked. “All right, Gyarados, I think we can go for one more.”
Gyarados began swirling in midair again. Espeon probably wouldn’t be able to hold off both opposing Pokémon long enough for the serpent to finish her dance, but Gyarados could afford to take a hit or two if it meant becoming nigh unstoppable.
“Espeon, hit Emboar again!” Terry called out.
Espeon ducked into a crouch, eyes glowing fiercely. Emboar writhed in pain and fell to the ground. This attack allowed Empoleon the chance to hit Espeon with a fierce blast of water, sending the psychic Pokémon backward.
“Ride Gyarados,” Alex hissed to Terry.
Terry nodded. “Espeon, leap up onto Gyarados’ back.”
“Earthquake!” Alex shouted.
Espeon’s feet were mere inches off the ground as Gyarados struck the arena floor with her tail, sending a shockwave through it that struck Empoleon and Emboar, knocking the former flat on its back and ensuring the latter couldn’t stand back up.
Alex smirked. Emboar was clearly out of the fight, but it seemed Mali didn’t recognize this. Gyarados’ focus gave her incredible alacrity, and Alex couldn’t deny it was hard to keep up with her Pokémon’s attack speed.
“Aqua Tail,” Alex ordered. “Finish off Emboar.”
Gyarados whipped her tail forward, striking Emboar in the back and forcing it from its knees to the ground. This time, Emboar stayed down. Mali’s scowl was visible from across the arena as she replaced Emboar with Seismitoad.
“You want that one, or should I take it?” Terry asked.
“I’ll do the honours,” Alex replied. “You focus on Empoleon.”
“Yes, ma’am. Espeon, Shadow Ball!”
Espeon leapt down off Gyarados’ back towards the penguin, dark energy crackling around him. A heartbeat before Espeon hit the ground, the blackness coalesced into a ball and shot towards Empoleon. Empoleon couldn’t guard against the attack, although it did relatively little damage.
“Gyarados, Stone Edge!” Alex commanded.
Sweeping her tail forward, Gyarados threw rocks at Seismitoad, then lunged, breaking the rocks against Seismitoad’s body. This was followed by a blast of light striking Gyarados from behind—Lawan was focusing her efforts on taking down Gyarados, and forcing Empoleon to ignore Espeon’s attacks.
“Gyarados, Ice Fang!”
Fangs glowing light blue, Gyarados sunk her teeth into Seismitoad, locking her jaw. Mist formed around Seismitoad as Gyarados drained the heat from the surrounding area. Gyarados spasmed as she was struck by a flurry of rocks thrown by Empoleon.
“My kingdom for a Blissey or something,” Terry mumbled. “Espeon, Psyshock!”
The psychic blast hit Empoleon squarely in the back, knocking it forward. Another blast struck Empoleon, this time enough to knock the penguin out. Lawan switched in Yanmega, who started off by emitting a harsh buzz that even Alex found painful. Espeon couldn’t take the sonic attack and his knees buckled. Seconds later, he collapsed.
“At least this makes my next Pokémon an easy choice,” Terry commented as he recalled Espeon. “Go, Flareon! Flamethrower!”
Flareon wasted no time in identifying the most flammable-looking target and incinerating it. One of the less talked-about aspects of battle training was how to keep one’s Pokémon from getting overwhelmed upon switching into a fight. In a team battle, a freshly switched in Pokémon had to identify its teammate and their status, while also assessing its opponents. This process couldn’t take more than a second or two lest the opponent gain significant advantage from the lost time.
Seismitoad caught the side of Gyarados’ head with a glowing punch, but the serpent held on. Ignoring the fact that Flareon’s flamethrower gave it a serious burn, Yanmega flew towards Gyarados, slashing her with its claws.
“Bounce!” Alex shouted.
Gyarados briefly touched the floor, then sailed up into the air. She dropped Seismitoad to the ground, then lunged, hitting Seismitoad with her full weight. Yanmega ignored yet another blast from Flareon, and blew a silver wind at Gyarados. Gyarados jerked in midair but remained aloft.
Mali’s displeasure was visible from across the arena as she switched in a Mandibuzz, whose first act was to tuck in her wings and dive at Gyarados point-blank. Gyarados was knocked to the ground, her movements slowed from all the damage she’d sustained.
“I think that actually went pretty well,” Alex said as she recalled Gyarados. Gyarados might have had some fight left in her, but there was no need to push her past her limits. For that matter, Alex could afford not to rely on either of her other Gs. “Go, Wartortle! Hydro Pump Yanmega!”
With Yanmega at the far side of the arena, the force of the water was diminished by sheer distance. Nevertheless, the attack was enough to take Yanmega out of the fight. Lawan’s replacement forced Alex to suppress a laugh. A Hippowdon was a terrible choice against a water trainer.
“Fun fact,” Terry said casually. “Those things eat cars.”
“… You’re joking,” Alex replied.
“It’s rare, but it’s been known to happen. Flareon, Overheat!”
The white-hot jet of flames struck Mandibuzz, allowing Wartortle a clear shot at Hippowdon. The hippo’s mass meant it would take quite a bit to down it, but Alex’s elemental advantage was overwhelming. Even Wartortle, the weakest Pokémon she could seriously field, would be able to handle it.
“Fire Fang!” Terry shouted.
Flareon jumped at Mandibuzz, which hadn’t been able to rise very high into the air following the previous blow. Flames flickering from his mouth, Flareon latched onto Mandibuzz, and Alex laughed as Mandibuzz flapped her wings madly, gaining altitude with Flareon hanging off her.
“Wartortle, Hydro Pump!”
Hippowdon charged through the water blast, slowed but not halted. It roared, mouth wide open as it lunged to bite Wartortle.
“Ice Beam!” Alex called.
Wartortle leapt backwards, easily dodging Hippowdon’s bite, and spewed a blue stream of energy into the hippo’s mouth. Hippowdon hacked and retched, shaking its head violently.
“Gods, how are these two even gym leaders?” Alex wondered.
“Welcome to the Neo League,” Terry said dryly. “Flareon, Lava Plume!”
Flareon flipped up onto Mandibuzz’s back, fur exploding into flame. Mandibuzz squawked in pain and fell to the arena floor. Flareon finished with a point-blank flamethrower.
Hippowdon, seemingly incapable of using ranged attacks, lunged at Wartortle once more. This time, with Wartortle backed into a corner, it was able to connect, easily bashing Wartortle aside. Wartortle gave a single pained grunt and slowly climbed back onto her feet.
“Wow,” Terry said.
“Eh?” Alex asked.
“I just looked up the pokédex info on Hippowdon,” Terry said casually, indicating the terminal in front of him. “Looks like I wasn’t joking after all. They really do eat cars sometimes.”
“Hydro Pump again!” Alex shouted, then she swore. “You realize that just because they suck doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention, right?”
“It’s not like we can lose at this point,” Terry pointed out. “Flamethrower!”
Were it better trained, Hippowdon might have been some threat on its own. Certainly, the ability to cause earthquakes would have made it a formidable opponent. Hippowdon was, however, nearly useless relying entirely on physical contact. Alex wondered if Lawan’s heart was in it or if she was simply going through the motions—Hippowdon had the mildly confused look of a Pokémon who expected orders but didn’t get them.
One more pair of attacks later and Hippowdon was knocked out. Wartortle was shaken and looked like she’d be sore for the next few days, but was free of serious injury. Flareon, though slightly worse off, could have weathered a solid blow from Hippowdon and kept on fighting.
Mali and Lawan met Alex and Terry by the side of the arena after each trainer had recalled their Pokémon. The gym leaders were gracious enough as they handed the two challengers their Spirit Badges, but their voices were slightly dulled by the obvious rote nature of their presentation. Neo League leaders weren’t simply expected to lose like Pokémon League leaders. In fact, a Neo League gym leader who lost too often was liable to be replaced. It was all part of trying to ensure the “elite” nature of the Neo League.
The sun was still high in the sky as Alex and Terry left the gym. This time she actually noticed as Terry took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
“Feeling better?” Terry asked.
Alex nodded. “Yeah. Or, well.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “To be honest, I’m fighting the part of me that’s trying to bring myself down with some kind of ‘you can’t win without picking on the weak gym leaders’ argument.”
Terry shook his head. “They were still harder than anyone you fought in Kanto, right?”
“Outside of the regional tournament, yeah,” Alex said.
“There you go. Just think of it like how most trainers skip the Viridian gym because its leader is rougher on challenge scaling than Pewter or Cerulean.”
“Depends on who you fight,” Alex replied. “When I challenged Viridian, the actual leader was in, and he was pretty good about it. I won with just Squirtle and Marril, believe it or not.”
Raising an eyebrow, Terry said, “You’re way too contradictory sometimes.”
“No I’m not,” Alex denied.
Terry scoffed. “Glad you agree with me.”
David glanced at Charizard, then at his partner Liam. The younger man was earnest enough, and hadn’t been too much of an inconvenience. The problem with David’s investigation was that he relied heavily on his psychic abilities, and a non-psychic couldn’t come close to matching his efficiency.
Of course, when you stared down an inquiry gone sour, potential cannon fodder was handy.
The man across the office from David ran a moneylending business widely suspected of having Team Rocket ties. He was ultimately a small, unimportant man, a local whose greatest ambition was to cling to a foreign power in exchange for a meagre profit. This was, in theory, as good a place as any to start working up the chain towards Roland.
In practice, Charizard was potentially going to be the best negotiator in the room.
“Now,” David said. “Sit back down and put the gun on the desk.”
Shan did as he was told, throwing a glare at David and Liam as he slumped back in his seat.
David glanced at Charizard, then returned his attention to Shan. “What you’re going to do is give me access to your records. I want to know everyone you’ve dealt with in the past three months where the transaction exceeds ten million baht. Think you can do that for me?”
Actually seeing the records was irrelevant. Shan’s mind darted to one client in particular he hoped David would pass over. Shan sorted through his records and gave David a list of clients, carefully omitting the name he repeated over and over in his mind.
“You’re sure this is all of them?” David asked.
“It is,” Shan said.
“Mind if I take a look through the records myself?”
“… Yes, please do,” Shan replied at last.
Choosing to entertain propriety was a foreign concept to David. If you had something to hide, you hid it. You didn’t go along with someone knowing full well what they’d likely do to you if you were lying. Damn the consequences of hiding it—the fact that you might emerge unscathed put that option above cooperation.
Shan’s records did indeed show an entry with the relevant name. The associated information contained an address in Pattaya City and several notes about the debtor’s business. From the thoughts racing through Shan’s mind, he knew full well that he was working with Team Rocket, and that the “debt” was simply a means of laundering money. The full amount of the note had already been received, and would be recorded with consistent payments over the foreseeable future.
“I hope you’re finding what you’re looking for,” Shan said with obviously false sincerity accompanied by a forced attempt at a genial smile.
David returned the smile. “Unfortunately not. Perhaps we were wrong about you.”
“If I had any dealings with the Rockets, I certainly haven’t told myself,” Shan added. It was a feeble jab at levity, but a required part of their dance.
It would have been nice to be able to make a joke about not being a mind-reader, but David knew better than to let that possibility enter Shan’s mind even as a joke. While making someone associate a secret with sarcastic humour was an effective means of obfuscation, David couldn’t take any risks.
David visibly skimmed past the entire ledger. “No, I’m afraid I don’t see anything here.”
“Fortunate.”
“Very. I won’t interrupt your business any further, then,” David said. He craned his neck back towards Liam. “Apologize to the good man.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Liam said absentmindedly.
“Charizard, what about you?”
The dragon’s “apology” was, to put it mildly, louder than anyone expected. Both New Rocket members left shortly thereafter.
JewelQuest
New Member
You write battle scenes better then I do.....lol.
Anyway, keep it up!
Anyway, keep it up!
This is honestly one of those chapters where I have it all written up then leave it for a week in indecision because of something that probably doesn't seem all that important to most people. In this case, it's the handling of a non-binary character (specifically, the character in question is genderqueer). Use of female pronouns is something I'm doing largely for the sake of accessibility, as I'm already piling on a lot of things probably unfamiliar to most of the audience with Alex, and adding too much more with a new character (such as alternate pronouns like "ze" and "hir" instead of "she" and "her", which would be more realistic for such a character) might be unreasonably off-putting. Still, it's not something that I plan to dwell upon after this chapter. It is what it is and I'll play it as it lies.
It only took a few days for David to locate the Team Rocket front. Shan’s records were accurate, which came as a surprise to David. If he were setting up such a location, he’d make sure no record of the real address ever entered the books.
This meant it was a pretty poor lead, but a lead all the same.
David stepped into the bar. Its lighting was low, and his eyes took a while to adjust given the midday sun outside. The décor was garish, and the tables displayed the Idaman preference for polished surfaces. A man looking to be on the later side of middle age stood behind the bar, staring into a drink glass. He didn’t look up at David.
“Stay here,” David said to Liam. Liam had a decent aptitude for Pokémon battle, but his situational reflexes left much to be desired.
Liam nodded in affirmation and moved beside the door. He leaned against the wall and watched David as the psychic stepped up to the bar. The older man still didn’t acknowledge David’s presence.
David turned his focus to the man’s mind. He was consciously ignoring David, although this was obvious even without telepathy. Unfortunately, the only other thing David could get from the man’s mind was an assessment of his drink. Apparently the mix was off, and the man had an idle desire to take a bartending course.
“You’re the manager of this establishment?” David asked.
Slowly, the man turned his gaze up to meet David’s. “I’m the owner, yes. I’m afraid I don’t manage this place on a day-to-day basis. You’re David Kirin, right?”
“It seems you have me at a disadvantage.”
The man smiled genially. “It would seem to me you could pluck my name from my head if you so chose.”
David frowned. This man shouldn’t have known that he was psychic. He absolutely shouldn’t have known David’s real name. Displaying that knowledge was clear announcement of his Team Rocket affiliation. His mind seemed unnaturally disciplined. Was he taunting David?
“Apparently you can’t,” the man said. “It’s all right. My name is Michael—a real name for a real name.”
Michael wasn’t lying. David could tell that much. Overreliance on his psychic powers as a magic key into others’ thoughts meant that those powers now failing him was unnerving.
“Should we dance the dance?” David asked.
“I’m up for it if you are,” Michael replied. “Personally, I’ve done it too many times to enjoy it anymore, but it’s your decision.”
David shook his head. “I don’t feel like making a fool of myself. The only thing I want to ask you is how you know my name.”
“Even without your psychic abilities, it should be obvious.”
David caught a flicker of identity from Michael’s mind. Michael didn’t think of the person as a name, but as a face. Michael’s mental image of Juliet was somewhat different from the real person, but still recognizable. Apparently the fact that David was supposed to be dead wasn’t as much an advantage as it should have been, assuming Juliet even kept her word. She was a decent enough woman, but Team Rocket had the effect of perverting decent people into criminals who could only get through their days by rationalizing away their actions.
“All right, so Executive Juliet told you,” David said. As much as he hated the dance of propriety, he was in one now, and followed step knowing full well where it would take him.
“I’m disappointed,” Michael said.
David’s frown turned into a scowl. Being manipulated into drawing a wrong conclusion was humiliating. How did Michael know how David divined the relevant information, anyway? Was he psychic himself?
“Juliet performed research on you, but didn’t document your captivity beyond what her superiors needed to know,” Michael continued. “We fully believed Shan was silenced by a normal New Rocket agent, that Juliet had been truthful when she reported the death of ‘David Kirin.’ It was actually the look in your eyes as you entered that suggested to me that you’re psychic. From there, your identity was obvious.”
“I see,” was all David could say. Michael was exceptionally sharp, and his mental discipline was utterly astounding. “So, where do we go from here?”
Rather than answering verbally, Michael raised one hand and David heard footsteps behind him. David glanced over his shoulder and saw two people closing in on Liam. Stopping them without killing them would be difficult, but premeditated murder was the one line David refused to cross, even at the cost of his own life. That ideal was harder to cling to when someone else’s life hinged on his actions. If it meant Liam’s survival, could he…?
No. David wouldn’t cross that line even if someone else would die as a result of his inaction. He reached down to his belt, fingers inches from Dusknoir’s pokéball before Michael’s voice halted him.
“Please don’t,” Michael requested calmly.
David’s hands closed the final few inches towards the pokéball as Michael produced a gun seemingly from nowhere and shot him. Pain blossomed in David’s arm, the force of the impact spinning him around. His fingers spasmed, dropping the still miniature pokéball to the floor. It hit eye-first, enlarging but not opening.
Arm throbbing, David reached for Charizard’s pokéball with his left hand. He dodged a second shot from Michael, clumsily hit the pokéball’s eye with his thumb, and tossed it in Michael’s general direction.
Rather than try to fight the dragon without a Pokémon of his own, Michael ducked into the back room. Charizard’s wingspan meant he couldn’t pursue. The danger of Michael popping back out to take further shots at David was minimal—he could still sense Michael’s presence. The Rocket wasn’t going to surprise him.
Liam’s Froslass wasn’t faring well against the two Rockets at the entrance. David reached for Golem’s pokéball and ordered, “Charizard, go help them.”
The dragon grunted and beat his wings, taking flight and running headlong into one of the two Rockets. The other pulled back further behind his Grumpig. Froslass was quick, but she wouldn’t be able to get to the Rocket before Grumpig could stop her. Charizard would even those odds, and Golem would push the fight in their favour.
Suddenly, David convulsed. He felt no pain, but his muscles spasmed and jerked awkwardly. He tumbled to the floor, unable to move. Golem's unopened pokéball rolled away. David's mind worked furiously. The paralysis was the result of an electric attack. David let himself become distracted by Liam’s plight, and was open to ambush. He counted himself lucky it was a Pokémon with Thunder Wave instead of Michael with his gun.
A thunderbolt arced towards Charizard, striking the dragon. He howled as several scales blackened from the strike. Froslass hung close to Liam, eyes darting between Grumpig and the unseen assailant.
“All right,” Liam said, holding his hands up. “I give up.”
“Smart,” a man’s voice came from behind David. “Ampharos, that’s enough for now.”
David felt Michael turn him and orient him into something approaching a sitting position. The process was humiliating, but he was paralyzed and unable to move. His psychic abilities weren’t going to be any help at the moment.
Michael shook his head at David. “You shouldn’t have humoured me. That wound looks pretty bad.”
David tried to ask something, but his mouth refused to work properly and the question came out very slurred.
“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Michael promised. “Someone at Team Rocket—not Juliet—thinks your psychic abilities are still worth study. The existing data means further research on you will be that much easier.”
David’s next question was as slurred as the first, but Michael still seemed to understand it.
“Afterwards,” Michael said solemnly, “you’re to be tranquilized.”
It took the better part of a week for Alex’s friend to arrive in Darkwood. Alex had to admit a week off with Terry was pleasant, especially when spent somewhere as beautiful as Darkwood. Of course, they also elected to stay in the hotel certain days, much to Marril’s complaint.
Marril could sod right off.
In a way, Alex kind of regretted telling the tale of how she announced her fulltime status in Cerulean. No good could possibly have come from it. The meeting at one of the local self-appointed trendy coffee shops was definitely meant to be ironic. Alex was even the one waiting at a table again, although this time she had company other than Marril.
Seeing Kay in person was different than seeing cellphone photos. Alex was still taller than her by a good three or four inches. Her short and variously green, pink, and purple hair was much more vibrant in person. Her change in fashion since the last time Alex saw her was somewhat odd to see firsthand. She wore an extremely tight sleeveless top which made no secret of the fact that she was binding, complimented by black cargo pants. She could, in fact, have easily been mistaken for a teenage boy had Alex not known better.
Of course, that's half the point, isn’t it? Alex thought.
“Hi,” she said as she sat down.
“Long time no see,” Alex said.
“Yeah, about that,” Kay said, scowling. “I’m still not forgiving you for thinking I of all people wouldn’t take it well that you're really female.”
“It was a strange state of being,” Alex admitted. She indicated Terry. “Kay, this is Terry. Terry, Kay.”
Kay afforded Terry a quick wave from across the table. “Alex’s told me a lot about you.”
“Do I really want to know what?”
“Do you?”
“I don’t think I’ll risk it,” Terry said. “So, um, just so I don’t make an idiot of myself, what, uh, pronoun do you use?”
“Well,” Kay said, “I was assigned female at birth, so just go with those, I guess.”
To Kay, the question was simply routine courtesy—if the appropriate pronoun to use with someone seemed ambiguous, you asked rather than assumed. Alex didn’t see why Terry found it awkward. Kay’s awkwardness was somewhat understandable, since she didn't actually identify as female, but outside the gender binary altogether. Given all the difficulty Alex had in getting people to accept her as female at the start of her transition, and even occasionally now, she didn’t want to imagine how hard it was for Kay to get others to accept her identifying as neither strictly male nor female.
“Mar-mar!” Marril interjected.
Kay grinned and petted Marril. “Aww, how could I have forgotten about you?”
“Careful,” Alex said. “She bites.”
“She’d never bite me,” Kay cooed, scratching Marril behind the ear.
“Marrrrr,” Marril said contentedly. Her tail twitched rhythmically.
“I didn’t say she’d bite you,” Alex corrected. “But I’m just letting you know in case she bites Terry. She’s been known to do that from time to time.”
Terry frowned at the barb. “So Alex says you two go way back.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kay replied. “I think she was… fourteen when I first met her?”
“Fifteen,” Alex corrected.
“Fifteen. It’s such a terrible story when you go ahead and tell it, but like, to put it bluntly, I’d seen a few shows she was in at the Cerulean gym, and I have to admit I was kinda… infatuated.”
Terry snorted in amusement.
“Well,” Kay continued, “silly crushes are just part of being a teenager, I guess. Anyway, I approached her after one of the shows and we hit it off pretty quick. Nothing happened romantically, but we became friends.”
“Totally not just for free tickets,” Alex added with a smirk.
Hearing her past described with female pronouns was somewhat disorienting. Rewriting history was the generally accepted method of resolving conversational gender issues, but Alex wasn’t prepared for the mental image changes accompanying Kay’s retelling. She remembered performing in those shows. She knew how she looked at the time. She knew all the reasons she attracted fangirls rather than fanboys. And yet her mind substituted a more agreeable image.
“Well, they were pretty good seats. Anyway, after a couple years she just kinda dropped everything and left. Tossed me a written apology and disappeared,” Kay said.
Alex looked to Kay. “Seems really stupid in hindsight.”
Kay nodded somberly. “You were going through a really rough time.”
“This was your Hoenn run?” Terry asked.
“Well, there weren’t any gym battles involved, but yeah,” Alex said. One of the benefits of placing in the top 8 of a regional tournament was that it gave you the option to skip the gym circuit for the next regionals you competed in regardless of area. It was enacted to reduce strain on gyms receiving challenges from trainers who couldn’t possibly lose, but in reality all it did was shift the strain onto the regional Elite Four, who oversaw the challenges. This made it a perfect way to run from her problems: It was easy and involved doing something familiar she could immerse herself in.
“Then that’s when I first met her,” Terry said. “She was… certainly something. One hell of a temper though.”
Alex elbowed Terry in the ribs.
“She’s still got it, apparently,” Terry added with a slight wince.
Thinking back to how she used to act was a bit of a sore spot for Alex. Terry’s assessment of her temper actually downplayed just how harshly she used to lash out at anyone in range, often triggered by extremely minor things. Even Marril hadn’t been fully immune to that uncontrollable anger. After starting hormone treatment, this subsided so fast that even she could see how Terry and Sam could say she was an entirely different person now.
“Anyway,” Alex said, “how’s your gym circuit going?”
Kay shrugged and spoke a few choice words.
“That bad?”
“You ever have to carry a partner in every single fight?” Kay asked. “I mean, at first it didn’t look too bad, but we won two gyms in five challenges. Including here. I basically soloed them.”
Alex wanted to add that she felt Terry could give the exact same description, but clamped down on that little bit of self-loathing. Besides, she could give Kay a bit of leeway—Kay was an amazing trainer, and had some right to be critical. “I imagine that’d be pretty frustrating.”
“Yeah,” Kay said with a pained expression on her face, a distant look in her eyes. “So that was the end of it. Even if we got all eight badges in twenty challenges, we wouldn’t have a prayer at the League championships.”
“You ditched her?” Alex asked.
Kay shook her head. “She quit on her own. Now I’m stuck in Idama basically on extended vacation.”
“Could come along with us if you want,” Alex offered. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but rather than wondering what she just asked, Alex found herself wanting Kay along. Kay was her best friend, although slightly estranged. It would be nice to spend time with her again.
“I don’t want to get in the way or anything.”
“Anyone else might be, but you?” Alex asked.
Kay chuckled. “Yeah, twist my arm, eh? Sure, I'll turn this duo into a trio.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Terry wondered.
“You have a problem with it?” Alex asked, forcing any accusatory tone away from the question.
“Not really. It’d just be nice to have a yes vote.”
Alex elbowed Terry again.
Chapter 15 - Once Again
It only took a few days for David to locate the Team Rocket front. Shan’s records were accurate, which came as a surprise to David. If he were setting up such a location, he’d make sure no record of the real address ever entered the books.
This meant it was a pretty poor lead, but a lead all the same.
David stepped into the bar. Its lighting was low, and his eyes took a while to adjust given the midday sun outside. The décor was garish, and the tables displayed the Idaman preference for polished surfaces. A man looking to be on the later side of middle age stood behind the bar, staring into a drink glass. He didn’t look up at David.
“Stay here,” David said to Liam. Liam had a decent aptitude for Pokémon battle, but his situational reflexes left much to be desired.
Liam nodded in affirmation and moved beside the door. He leaned against the wall and watched David as the psychic stepped up to the bar. The older man still didn’t acknowledge David’s presence.
David turned his focus to the man’s mind. He was consciously ignoring David, although this was obvious even without telepathy. Unfortunately, the only other thing David could get from the man’s mind was an assessment of his drink. Apparently the mix was off, and the man had an idle desire to take a bartending course.
“You’re the manager of this establishment?” David asked.
Slowly, the man turned his gaze up to meet David’s. “I’m the owner, yes. I’m afraid I don’t manage this place on a day-to-day basis. You’re David Kirin, right?”
“It seems you have me at a disadvantage.”
The man smiled genially. “It would seem to me you could pluck my name from my head if you so chose.”
David frowned. This man shouldn’t have known that he was psychic. He absolutely shouldn’t have known David’s real name. Displaying that knowledge was clear announcement of his Team Rocket affiliation. His mind seemed unnaturally disciplined. Was he taunting David?
“Apparently you can’t,” the man said. “It’s all right. My name is Michael—a real name for a real name.”
Michael wasn’t lying. David could tell that much. Overreliance on his psychic powers as a magic key into others’ thoughts meant that those powers now failing him was unnerving.
“Should we dance the dance?” David asked.
“I’m up for it if you are,” Michael replied. “Personally, I’ve done it too many times to enjoy it anymore, but it’s your decision.”
David shook his head. “I don’t feel like making a fool of myself. The only thing I want to ask you is how you know my name.”
“Even without your psychic abilities, it should be obvious.”
David caught a flicker of identity from Michael’s mind. Michael didn’t think of the person as a name, but as a face. Michael’s mental image of Juliet was somewhat different from the real person, but still recognizable. Apparently the fact that David was supposed to be dead wasn’t as much an advantage as it should have been, assuming Juliet even kept her word. She was a decent enough woman, but Team Rocket had the effect of perverting decent people into criminals who could only get through their days by rationalizing away their actions.
“All right, so Executive Juliet told you,” David said. As much as he hated the dance of propriety, he was in one now, and followed step knowing full well where it would take him.
“I’m disappointed,” Michael said.
David’s frown turned into a scowl. Being manipulated into drawing a wrong conclusion was humiliating. How did Michael know how David divined the relevant information, anyway? Was he psychic himself?
“Juliet performed research on you, but didn’t document your captivity beyond what her superiors needed to know,” Michael continued. “We fully believed Shan was silenced by a normal New Rocket agent, that Juliet had been truthful when she reported the death of ‘David Kirin.’ It was actually the look in your eyes as you entered that suggested to me that you’re psychic. From there, your identity was obvious.”
“I see,” was all David could say. Michael was exceptionally sharp, and his mental discipline was utterly astounding. “So, where do we go from here?”
Rather than answering verbally, Michael raised one hand and David heard footsteps behind him. David glanced over his shoulder and saw two people closing in on Liam. Stopping them without killing them would be difficult, but premeditated murder was the one line David refused to cross, even at the cost of his own life. That ideal was harder to cling to when someone else’s life hinged on his actions. If it meant Liam’s survival, could he…?
No. David wouldn’t cross that line even if someone else would die as a result of his inaction. He reached down to his belt, fingers inches from Dusknoir’s pokéball before Michael’s voice halted him.
“Please don’t,” Michael requested calmly.
David’s hands closed the final few inches towards the pokéball as Michael produced a gun seemingly from nowhere and shot him. Pain blossomed in David’s arm, the force of the impact spinning him around. His fingers spasmed, dropping the still miniature pokéball to the floor. It hit eye-first, enlarging but not opening.
Arm throbbing, David reached for Charizard’s pokéball with his left hand. He dodged a second shot from Michael, clumsily hit the pokéball’s eye with his thumb, and tossed it in Michael’s general direction.
Rather than try to fight the dragon without a Pokémon of his own, Michael ducked into the back room. Charizard’s wingspan meant he couldn’t pursue. The danger of Michael popping back out to take further shots at David was minimal—he could still sense Michael’s presence. The Rocket wasn’t going to surprise him.
Liam’s Froslass wasn’t faring well against the two Rockets at the entrance. David reached for Golem’s pokéball and ordered, “Charizard, go help them.”
The dragon grunted and beat his wings, taking flight and running headlong into one of the two Rockets. The other pulled back further behind his Grumpig. Froslass was quick, but she wouldn’t be able to get to the Rocket before Grumpig could stop her. Charizard would even those odds, and Golem would push the fight in their favour.
Suddenly, David convulsed. He felt no pain, but his muscles spasmed and jerked awkwardly. He tumbled to the floor, unable to move. Golem's unopened pokéball rolled away. David's mind worked furiously. The paralysis was the result of an electric attack. David let himself become distracted by Liam’s plight, and was open to ambush. He counted himself lucky it was a Pokémon with Thunder Wave instead of Michael with his gun.
A thunderbolt arced towards Charizard, striking the dragon. He howled as several scales blackened from the strike. Froslass hung close to Liam, eyes darting between Grumpig and the unseen assailant.
“All right,” Liam said, holding his hands up. “I give up.”
“Smart,” a man’s voice came from behind David. “Ampharos, that’s enough for now.”
David felt Michael turn him and orient him into something approaching a sitting position. The process was humiliating, but he was paralyzed and unable to move. His psychic abilities weren’t going to be any help at the moment.
Michael shook his head at David. “You shouldn’t have humoured me. That wound looks pretty bad.”
David tried to ask something, but his mouth refused to work properly and the question came out very slurred.
“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Michael promised. “Someone at Team Rocket—not Juliet—thinks your psychic abilities are still worth study. The existing data means further research on you will be that much easier.”
David’s next question was as slurred as the first, but Michael still seemed to understand it.
“Afterwards,” Michael said solemnly, “you’re to be tranquilized.”
It took the better part of a week for Alex’s friend to arrive in Darkwood. Alex had to admit a week off with Terry was pleasant, especially when spent somewhere as beautiful as Darkwood. Of course, they also elected to stay in the hotel certain days, much to Marril’s complaint.
Marril could sod right off.
In a way, Alex kind of regretted telling the tale of how she announced her fulltime status in Cerulean. No good could possibly have come from it. The meeting at one of the local self-appointed trendy coffee shops was definitely meant to be ironic. Alex was even the one waiting at a table again, although this time she had company other than Marril.
Seeing Kay in person was different than seeing cellphone photos. Alex was still taller than her by a good three or four inches. Her short and variously green, pink, and purple hair was much more vibrant in person. Her change in fashion since the last time Alex saw her was somewhat odd to see firsthand. She wore an extremely tight sleeveless top which made no secret of the fact that she was binding, complimented by black cargo pants. She could, in fact, have easily been mistaken for a teenage boy had Alex not known better.
Of course, that's half the point, isn’t it? Alex thought.
“Hi,” she said as she sat down.
“Long time no see,” Alex said.
“Yeah, about that,” Kay said, scowling. “I’m still not forgiving you for thinking I of all people wouldn’t take it well that you're really female.”
“It was a strange state of being,” Alex admitted. She indicated Terry. “Kay, this is Terry. Terry, Kay.”
Kay afforded Terry a quick wave from across the table. “Alex’s told me a lot about you.”
“Do I really want to know what?”
“Do you?”
“I don’t think I’ll risk it,” Terry said. “So, um, just so I don’t make an idiot of myself, what, uh, pronoun do you use?”
“Well,” Kay said, “I was assigned female at birth, so just go with those, I guess.”
To Kay, the question was simply routine courtesy—if the appropriate pronoun to use with someone seemed ambiguous, you asked rather than assumed. Alex didn’t see why Terry found it awkward. Kay’s awkwardness was somewhat understandable, since she didn't actually identify as female, but outside the gender binary altogether. Given all the difficulty Alex had in getting people to accept her as female at the start of her transition, and even occasionally now, she didn’t want to imagine how hard it was for Kay to get others to accept her identifying as neither strictly male nor female.
“Mar-mar!” Marril interjected.
Kay grinned and petted Marril. “Aww, how could I have forgotten about you?”
“Careful,” Alex said. “She bites.”
“She’d never bite me,” Kay cooed, scratching Marril behind the ear.
“Marrrrr,” Marril said contentedly. Her tail twitched rhythmically.
“I didn’t say she’d bite you,” Alex corrected. “But I’m just letting you know in case she bites Terry. She’s been known to do that from time to time.”
Terry frowned at the barb. “So Alex says you two go way back.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kay replied. “I think she was… fourteen when I first met her?”
“Fifteen,” Alex corrected.
“Fifteen. It’s such a terrible story when you go ahead and tell it, but like, to put it bluntly, I’d seen a few shows she was in at the Cerulean gym, and I have to admit I was kinda… infatuated.”
Terry snorted in amusement.
“Well,” Kay continued, “silly crushes are just part of being a teenager, I guess. Anyway, I approached her after one of the shows and we hit it off pretty quick. Nothing happened romantically, but we became friends.”
“Totally not just for free tickets,” Alex added with a smirk.
Hearing her past described with female pronouns was somewhat disorienting. Rewriting history was the generally accepted method of resolving conversational gender issues, but Alex wasn’t prepared for the mental image changes accompanying Kay’s retelling. She remembered performing in those shows. She knew how she looked at the time. She knew all the reasons she attracted fangirls rather than fanboys. And yet her mind substituted a more agreeable image.
“Well, they were pretty good seats. Anyway, after a couple years she just kinda dropped everything and left. Tossed me a written apology and disappeared,” Kay said.
Alex looked to Kay. “Seems really stupid in hindsight.”
Kay nodded somberly. “You were going through a really rough time.”
“This was your Hoenn run?” Terry asked.
“Well, there weren’t any gym battles involved, but yeah,” Alex said. One of the benefits of placing in the top 8 of a regional tournament was that it gave you the option to skip the gym circuit for the next regionals you competed in regardless of area. It was enacted to reduce strain on gyms receiving challenges from trainers who couldn’t possibly lose, but in reality all it did was shift the strain onto the regional Elite Four, who oversaw the challenges. This made it a perfect way to run from her problems: It was easy and involved doing something familiar she could immerse herself in.
“Then that’s when I first met her,” Terry said. “She was… certainly something. One hell of a temper though.”
Alex elbowed Terry in the ribs.
“She’s still got it, apparently,” Terry added with a slight wince.
Thinking back to how she used to act was a bit of a sore spot for Alex. Terry’s assessment of her temper actually downplayed just how harshly she used to lash out at anyone in range, often triggered by extremely minor things. Even Marril hadn’t been fully immune to that uncontrollable anger. After starting hormone treatment, this subsided so fast that even she could see how Terry and Sam could say she was an entirely different person now.
“Anyway,” Alex said, “how’s your gym circuit going?”
Kay shrugged and spoke a few choice words.
“That bad?”
“You ever have to carry a partner in every single fight?” Kay asked. “I mean, at first it didn’t look too bad, but we won two gyms in five challenges. Including here. I basically soloed them.”
Alex wanted to add that she felt Terry could give the exact same description, but clamped down on that little bit of self-loathing. Besides, she could give Kay a bit of leeway—Kay was an amazing trainer, and had some right to be critical. “I imagine that’d be pretty frustrating.”
“Yeah,” Kay said with a pained expression on her face, a distant look in her eyes. “So that was the end of it. Even if we got all eight badges in twenty challenges, we wouldn’t have a prayer at the League championships.”
“You ditched her?” Alex asked.
Kay shook her head. “She quit on her own. Now I’m stuck in Idama basically on extended vacation.”
“Could come along with us if you want,” Alex offered. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but rather than wondering what she just asked, Alex found herself wanting Kay along. Kay was her best friend, although slightly estranged. It would be nice to spend time with her again.
“I don’t want to get in the way or anything.”
“Anyone else might be, but you?” Alex asked.
Kay chuckled. “Yeah, twist my arm, eh? Sure, I'll turn this duo into a trio.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Terry wondered.
“You have a problem with it?” Alex asked, forcing any accusatory tone away from the question.
“Not really. It’d just be nice to have a yes vote.”
Alex elbowed Terry again.
JewelQuest
New Member
Awesome!
So, I am guessing that Kay is going to be the 'Marril' from the old series? (I've forgotten what you called them...)
So, I am guessing that Kay is going to be the 'Marril' from the old series? (I've forgotten what you called them...)
Ugh. I was hoping to get this out there before all my time was swallowed up with having to move (because I really like this chapter and think it's a good microcosm for the entire series' themes), but alas, it seems I wasn't so fortunate. Anyway, yes, Kay is more or less the same personality, except less childish. She still fulfills the plot roles of being an old friend for Alex and a friendly rival for Terry while getting her own character arc (albeit a necessarily different one than the comparable character in the old SS). I imagine she'll be somewhat of a "love her or hate her" type of character, but then again I suspect SS itself is kind of like that.
David awoke in an enclosed room similar to the one he’d inhabited during his brief stay with Juliet. The furniture was slightly different, and there were ominous blinking lights around the door, but otherwise it looked identical.
Gods, my head feels like I mixed up pint glasses and shot glasses, David thought as he sluggishly rolled off the bed. His feet touched down before the rest of him could, saving him a fall. Either his nerves still hadn’t healed from the electric shock, or he’d been drugged a lot harder than he should have been.
David discovered he was wearing a metal anklet, smoothness only broken at the clasp. He peered at it quizzically and tried to focus his psychic abilities to remove it. Nothing happened. As his mind cleared, he realized he got the same feeling from it as he got from dark-type Pokémon.
“Well, that figures,” David mumbled to no one. It seemed Team Rocket had technology that could block psychic abilities. He wondered why Juliet never employed it. She was an executive, which was theoretically the highest rank beneath Giovanni. Doubtless she had access to it, so why hadn’t she made use of it? Was it due to some kind of pride?
“Are you well?” Came a voice from around the corner, spurred by David’s grumbling. The voice was monotone, both clinical and detached.
“Of course not,” David spat.
A red-haired woman stepped into David’s field of view. Her face was impassive as she looked at David, as if she only cared about him as a thing, not a person. Frustrated, David tried to read her mind, to figure out what her goal was. It was like trying to read the mind of a dark-type. Strange. He didn’t like how wondering whether someone was psychic themself was his go-to when his abilities failed him, but in this case the feeling couldn’t be explained by mental discipline.
That’s when David noticed the scars on the woman’s temples. She was a tranquilized psychic. David suddenly felt very cold. Tranquilization was an utterly horrific procedure involving severe mental damage. The woman’s scars weren’t surgical, but the result of a psychic branding that seared her brain, removing her ability to make use of psychic abilities both active and passive. Loss of emotion and some higher thought processes were simply side effects.
“I’m sorry the accommodations could not be made more pleasant,” the woman said.
“Not my first time being imprisoned by you guys, anyway,” David commented sourly. “Who are you, anyway?”
“My name is Lindsay. I have been assigned to be your caretaker for the immediate future.”
As distasteful as Juliet’s cognitive dissonance was, she was far better company than Lindsay. Every time Lindsay spoke, David could hear the horror she’d been put through. He could hear her utter loss of self in that eerie monotone voice.
“And once they’re done with me?” David asked.
“Your mind is to be freed from the chains binding it.”
David’s chills had never gone away, and now they were accompanied by potent disgust. He flexed his right hand into a fist and opened it, finger muscles taut. Anything to stimulate some kind of muscle, to get some kind of sensory input to keep his mind from focusing entirely on the horror. He felt profoundly sorry for Lindsay, but tried to quash this feeling as best he could. For all he knew, Team Rocket hoped he’d succumb to this sympathy and become attached to her, just like he’d let himself form a kind of camaraderie with Juliet.
David shook his head slowly. “How can you say that?”
Lindsay blinked. “Psychic abilities are a burden no one should have to bear.”
The worst part was David could see the logic there. Living in fear of accidentally hurting or killing someone, of the emotional strain that came from using his powers so freely knowing the dangers… if his abilities weren’t so useful, he could have lived without them. But not at the cost of being tranquilized. Tranquilization was worse than death—the latter didn’t leave a mockery of yourself behind to wear your face.
David stood up to his full height, towering over Lindsay. He didn’t know why he affected such posture. Lindsay wouldn’t see any difference between that and him remaining seated.
“Can you at least tell me who you’re working for?” David asked.
“Team Rocket.”
“No, I mean who you’re working for. Michael?”
“It is not my prerogative to reveal that information.”
David swore and turned his back to Lindsay. “Is there any point in conversing with you?”
“Most humans are comforted by regular socialization. Easing feelings of isolation is part of my purpose as your caretaker.”
The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Lindsay wouldn’t lie. She had no reason to, and even a tranquilized psychic working for Team Rocket wouldn’t be prone to duplicity. They simply didn’t have the mental ability to maintain a complex deception.
“Will I get to meet my captors at some point?” David asked. “Or are you simply going to drug me every time I’m to be your research specimen?”
“I was instructed to alert my superior upon your awakening,” Lindsay explained. “It won’t be long.”
David hung his head. He certainly hoped Michael hadn’t lied. He didn’t know if he could keep up hope should Juliet step through that warded doorway.
Discreet requests for after-hours meetings weren’t exactly new to Melanie, but this was the first time in a while such a request came from Juliet. She doubted very much that Juliet asked for the same reasons Sam would, although that thought gave Melanie an odd amusement. Regardless, if she was supposed to meet Juliet in the secondary lab, it was going to be business.
Juliet waited alongside Banette and Mismagius, making Melanie wonder if she should have brought Hitmonlee.
“You’re early,” Juliet noted with a sharp nod as Melanie came within earshot.
Melanie shrugged. “I’ve got a date with Sam later I’m hoping I don’t have to cancel. You said this was going to be quick, right?”
“Relatively.”
“From the hour and the odd location, I’m also going to assume it’s more Team Rocket drama?”
Juliet nodded again.
Melanie sighed. “So what’s Roland doing now, anyway?”
“He’s decided to take the direct approach in trying to control me,” Juliet explained. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the fact that there’s a third executive in Idama is causing a lot of problems. Many higher-ranking agents are actually coming to me to mediate the Roland-Kenneth conflict. Roland wants a permanent tiebreaker.”
“So how’s he trying to control you?” Melanie asked. Juliet’s rank had always been more ceremonial than practical, but Melanie could believe agents would seek the weight behind that nominal rank in order to resolve conflicting orders.
“Generous amounts of browbeating, for one,” Juliet said bitterly. “More pertinent is that he’s decided to keep as close an eye on me as he can. Hence the location for this little rendezvous.”
“It’s to make sure you’re not plotting against him or anything else so devious.” Melanie snorted in amusement. “I thought we were supposed to be working against those ‘New Rocket’ guys, not each other. Can’t Roland and Kenneth leave their little gang war for after all this is done? And I’m not in the country anymore?”
“I’d follow you right out,” Juliet said. “But our situation is what it is. Personally, I think this is a pretty good incentive to side with Kenneth—say what you will, he’s not the one trying to intimidate me into obedience.”
“Why even go to this trouble just for a few scientists’ sakes?” Melanie wondered.
Juliet let out a heavy breath. “You haven’t heard of something called Mewtwo, have you?”
Melanie shook her head.
“I’d be very surprised if you did. It was Team Rocket’s first attempt to create an artificial Pokémon. Oh, sure, cloning dead Pokémon from fossils is old technology, and unstable Pokémon like Porygon and Castform are nothing remarkable. Team Plasma created Genesect, certainly, but Mewtwo went a step further. You’re familiar with Mew, I assume?”
“The Progenitor,” Melanie said with a nod. “Second Pokémon to exist after the Creator.”
Juliet shook her head derisively. “While no one’s ever seen an Arceus as far as I know, Mew is simply extraordinarily rare and possesses interesting abilities—enough to be a god to primitive cultures, no doubt, but a Pokémon like any other. Still, its genetic structure was interesting enough that, with Mew’s genes as a template, we created Mewtwo.”
“The fact that I’ve never heard of this is probably ominous.”
“Very. The first Mewtwo we created…”
“Oh for the love of the gods, more than one of them.”
Juliet ignored the interruption. “…was certainly powerful, and for a time Giovanni used him as you would any trained Pokémon. Then he escaped. The tale of attempting to recapture him is a long and sordid one, but suffice to say after that failure we created a second. This too ended poorly, and significantly more violently.”
“This would be why Tribo isn’t using any existing Pokémon as a template,” Melanie added. It wasn’t a question.
“Right. Giovanni is utterly obsessed with creating the perfect Pokémon—for all Team Rocket pretends to be better than those Team Whatevers all over Japan, who want nothing more than the flood the land or to ‘free’ Pokémon from their trainers or inflate the bloody sun, we too have our crippling obsession. The only difference is most Rockets never discover what this obsession is. But in essence, the person in charge of the Tribo Project is in a very real sense second only to Giovanni in power, albeit not in a way that can be directly projected over others.”
“So there’s Roland’s motivation to try and control you. What do you suppose we do about it?” Melanie asked.
“I have my plans,” Juliet said. “There is, however, one uncomfortable thing I have to ask you to do.”
“After all this, what could possibly be ‘uncomfortable’?”
“I need you to reveal my Team Rocket affiliation to Sam,” Juliet said.
Melanie felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She tried to keep her Team Rocket life separate from her romantic life, and Ryan’s intrusion on one of their dates had been bad enough. But that brush with disaster still didn’t involve Team Rocket’s existence being anything more than an immaterial Other in Sam’s eyes. Given Sam’s past, she might simply choose to leave regardless of her attachment to Melanie.
“Why?” Melanie asked at last.
“Two reasons, neither pleasant,” Juliet explained. “The first is practical: If Sam knows about the situation, she’s better equipped to handle actual danger. Not every problem is an easy-to-repel Pokémon assault. Which leads me to the second reason. We have a Pokémon Master working for us. I don’t see any reason not to make use of her.”
Melanie scowled. Juliet’s explanation reeked of the same dehumanization behind keeping that psychic locked up in the old lab—a disgusting thing to do, but something Melanie could bring herself to overlook so long as she wasn’t personally involved in it. Applying that same level of dehumanization to Sam was unthinkable.
“No,” Melanie said flatly. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to justify her reflexive answer.
“You’re under the impression it was a request,” Juliet said darkly.
Melanie latched onto an idea, hoping it would be good enough. “I won’t tell her you’re actually a Rocket member—it’d be too close to her previous experiences with Team Rocket. Instead… instead, I have an idea that should work just as well.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Melanie explained her plan. After considering it, Juliet gave her approval.
“Sorry I’m late,” Melanie said as she came up behind Sam. The latter was already seated and from the looks of things had been working on her drink for a while. Melanie gave Sam a quick hug from behind and a kiss on the cheek before sitting down opposite her.
Sam smiled. “Actually, it’s enough seeing you be the late one for a change.”
“Law of averages,” Melanie said. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“Not really. It’s been about ten minutes, I guess.”
Melanie sighed as she sat down. “Sorry.”
“Work stuff?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Melanie said, unable to restrain a wince fully.
“I wasn’t aware Juliet’s ‘don’t let it get in the way of work’ thing applied to not being allowed to refuse unannounced overtime,” Sam commented drily.
“That’s…” Melanie began, and paused. She had the choice to drop her plan entirely, to pretend like her problems really were just a bad day at work. She could keep Sam out of the Team Rocket conflicts. For a brief moment, she seriously considered it as a possibility. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Somehow I think this is going to come with a story attached,” Sam said.
Melanie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She wished she knew how much of her nervousness was real and how much was affected. “After dinner, if you don’t mind. I really don’t want to spoil the mood.”
“It’ll be spoiled anyway if you keep it bottled in,” Sam pointed out.
“Just… it can wait. Please.”
“If you say so,” Sam sounded puzzled.
Melanie thanked whichever god of luck or fate was appropriate that their server picked this time to make another round past their table. By the time Melanie and Sam each placed their orders, enough time had passed for Melanie to change the subject with some level of reasonability.
Dinner was far from unpleasant. Melanie was used to keeping her Team Rocket membership secret, so that part was nothing new. She barely even thought of it in those terms anymore. Being a Rocket was simply some private aspect of her life that Sam didn’t need to hear about. After all, Melanie never brought up her exes, despite that she thought Sam might actually find the rather dramatic story of a particularly unfortunate one to be rather amusing. Same thing in her mind.
Melanie opted for dessert, if only to delay the inevitable. She invariably had a second stomach for dessert, and Sam certainly didn’t complain. A bit of sugar would probably go a long way.
It wasn’t until they left that Melanie brought up the subject of Team Rocket again. The twilit walkway to the parking lot was hardly a dramatic location, but Melanie learned long ago that any attempts to make things dramatic always backfired. Drama happened on its own and natural chaos and uncertainty always made things more tense than the most carefully scripted fiction.
“So, uh,” Melanie began uncertainly. “You remember I mentioned that thing at the start?”
Sam stopped and turned to face Melanie. With an understanding sigh, she said, “Out with it. That’s the best way to take this.”
Melanie glanced about avoidantly. “All right. It wasn’t really ‘overtime’ in the normal ‘extra work’ sense. I’m gonna give this some preamble just so it flows a bit better, okay?”
“Long story, eh?” Sam said.
“I assume you remember the Team Rocket attack on the old lab,” Melanie began. The mental image of Sam’s dragons all but effortlessly plowing through a small army of attacking Pokémon gnawed at the back of her mind. It was easy to forget Sam was a Pokémon Master, and while she was hardly the very best like no one ever was, she was still far stronger than anyone in Team Rocket.
“If they’re planning to attack again…” Sam grumbled.
“No, they aren’t. At least… not with Pokémon,” Melanie said. Sticking to her planned script was much harder than she anticipated. “They’ve tried the overt method. Now, well… look, the short of it is they’ve pressured Juliet into working with them. Siphoning off our research and any spare resources out of… some kind of protection racket.”
After a brief pause, Sam swore. She shook her head and looked up at the clouds. “Just never ends, does it?”
Melanie had a hunch this question was directed inwards. “I…”
Sam interrupted Melanie. “Tell you what,” she said firmly. “I’ll make it end.”
This broke all of Melanie’s pre-planned conversation paths. She’d expected to have to talk Sam into helping her, or to direct anger in the right direction. She hadn’t thought Sam might take the fight option instead of the flight option.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Melanie admitted.
“I can figure something out,” Sam promised. “All else fails, I have a good idea of where to turn for a few hints.”
Melanie idly wondered if Sam was referring to her sister with that. Alex’s apparent Rocket connections stymied even Juliet’s investigations. The fact that Alex began running the Neo League circuit right at the point the conflict erupted couldn’t possibly have been coincidence, especially not given Alex’s choice of travel partner. Terry’s presence was the most inexplicable part of it all—why him alongside someone like Alex? Dozens of unanswerable questions swam through Melanie’s mind.
“Anything you can share with me?” Melanie asked.
“Not really,” Sam said. “I don’t even know if there’s anything there. Just… a guess of mine.”
“All right,” Melanie said. An odd smile crossed her face, leaving her wondering whether it was a subconscious part of her act or whether it was something real slipping through. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Sam drew Melanie in for a tight hug. “I love you, Melanie,” she whispered. “I can’t just let this happen to a friend of yours.”
Melanie let her arms circle around Sam and absentmindedly stroked her short, chestnut brown hair. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. At least this way she could pretend to be worth Sam’s affection.
Chapter 16 - With Feeling
David awoke in an enclosed room similar to the one he’d inhabited during his brief stay with Juliet. The furniture was slightly different, and there were ominous blinking lights around the door, but otherwise it looked identical.
Gods, my head feels like I mixed up pint glasses and shot glasses, David thought as he sluggishly rolled off the bed. His feet touched down before the rest of him could, saving him a fall. Either his nerves still hadn’t healed from the electric shock, or he’d been drugged a lot harder than he should have been.
David discovered he was wearing a metal anklet, smoothness only broken at the clasp. He peered at it quizzically and tried to focus his psychic abilities to remove it. Nothing happened. As his mind cleared, he realized he got the same feeling from it as he got from dark-type Pokémon.
“Well, that figures,” David mumbled to no one. It seemed Team Rocket had technology that could block psychic abilities. He wondered why Juliet never employed it. She was an executive, which was theoretically the highest rank beneath Giovanni. Doubtless she had access to it, so why hadn’t she made use of it? Was it due to some kind of pride?
“Are you well?” Came a voice from around the corner, spurred by David’s grumbling. The voice was monotone, both clinical and detached.
“Of course not,” David spat.
A red-haired woman stepped into David’s field of view. Her face was impassive as she looked at David, as if she only cared about him as a thing, not a person. Frustrated, David tried to read her mind, to figure out what her goal was. It was like trying to read the mind of a dark-type. Strange. He didn’t like how wondering whether someone was psychic themself was his go-to when his abilities failed him, but in this case the feeling couldn’t be explained by mental discipline.
That’s when David noticed the scars on the woman’s temples. She was a tranquilized psychic. David suddenly felt very cold. Tranquilization was an utterly horrific procedure involving severe mental damage. The woman’s scars weren’t surgical, but the result of a psychic branding that seared her brain, removing her ability to make use of psychic abilities both active and passive. Loss of emotion and some higher thought processes were simply side effects.
“I’m sorry the accommodations could not be made more pleasant,” the woman said.
“Not my first time being imprisoned by you guys, anyway,” David commented sourly. “Who are you, anyway?”
“My name is Lindsay. I have been assigned to be your caretaker for the immediate future.”
As distasteful as Juliet’s cognitive dissonance was, she was far better company than Lindsay. Every time Lindsay spoke, David could hear the horror she’d been put through. He could hear her utter loss of self in that eerie monotone voice.
“And once they’re done with me?” David asked.
“Your mind is to be freed from the chains binding it.”
David’s chills had never gone away, and now they were accompanied by potent disgust. He flexed his right hand into a fist and opened it, finger muscles taut. Anything to stimulate some kind of muscle, to get some kind of sensory input to keep his mind from focusing entirely on the horror. He felt profoundly sorry for Lindsay, but tried to quash this feeling as best he could. For all he knew, Team Rocket hoped he’d succumb to this sympathy and become attached to her, just like he’d let himself form a kind of camaraderie with Juliet.
David shook his head slowly. “How can you say that?”
Lindsay blinked. “Psychic abilities are a burden no one should have to bear.”
The worst part was David could see the logic there. Living in fear of accidentally hurting or killing someone, of the emotional strain that came from using his powers so freely knowing the dangers… if his abilities weren’t so useful, he could have lived without them. But not at the cost of being tranquilized. Tranquilization was worse than death—the latter didn’t leave a mockery of yourself behind to wear your face.
David stood up to his full height, towering over Lindsay. He didn’t know why he affected such posture. Lindsay wouldn’t see any difference between that and him remaining seated.
“Can you at least tell me who you’re working for?” David asked.
“Team Rocket.”
“No, I mean who you’re working for. Michael?”
“It is not my prerogative to reveal that information.”
David swore and turned his back to Lindsay. “Is there any point in conversing with you?”
“Most humans are comforted by regular socialization. Easing feelings of isolation is part of my purpose as your caretaker.”
The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Lindsay wouldn’t lie. She had no reason to, and even a tranquilized psychic working for Team Rocket wouldn’t be prone to duplicity. They simply didn’t have the mental ability to maintain a complex deception.
“Will I get to meet my captors at some point?” David asked. “Or are you simply going to drug me every time I’m to be your research specimen?”
“I was instructed to alert my superior upon your awakening,” Lindsay explained. “It won’t be long.”
David hung his head. He certainly hoped Michael hadn’t lied. He didn’t know if he could keep up hope should Juliet step through that warded doorway.
Discreet requests for after-hours meetings weren’t exactly new to Melanie, but this was the first time in a while such a request came from Juliet. She doubted very much that Juliet asked for the same reasons Sam would, although that thought gave Melanie an odd amusement. Regardless, if she was supposed to meet Juliet in the secondary lab, it was going to be business.
Juliet waited alongside Banette and Mismagius, making Melanie wonder if she should have brought Hitmonlee.
“You’re early,” Juliet noted with a sharp nod as Melanie came within earshot.
Melanie shrugged. “I’ve got a date with Sam later I’m hoping I don’t have to cancel. You said this was going to be quick, right?”
“Relatively.”
“From the hour and the odd location, I’m also going to assume it’s more Team Rocket drama?”
Juliet nodded again.
Melanie sighed. “So what’s Roland doing now, anyway?”
“He’s decided to take the direct approach in trying to control me,” Juliet explained. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the fact that there’s a third executive in Idama is causing a lot of problems. Many higher-ranking agents are actually coming to me to mediate the Roland-Kenneth conflict. Roland wants a permanent tiebreaker.”
“So how’s he trying to control you?” Melanie asked. Juliet’s rank had always been more ceremonial than practical, but Melanie could believe agents would seek the weight behind that nominal rank in order to resolve conflicting orders.
“Generous amounts of browbeating, for one,” Juliet said bitterly. “More pertinent is that he’s decided to keep as close an eye on me as he can. Hence the location for this little rendezvous.”
“It’s to make sure you’re not plotting against him or anything else so devious.” Melanie snorted in amusement. “I thought we were supposed to be working against those ‘New Rocket’ guys, not each other. Can’t Roland and Kenneth leave their little gang war for after all this is done? And I’m not in the country anymore?”
“I’d follow you right out,” Juliet said. “But our situation is what it is. Personally, I think this is a pretty good incentive to side with Kenneth—say what you will, he’s not the one trying to intimidate me into obedience.”
“Why even go to this trouble just for a few scientists’ sakes?” Melanie wondered.
Juliet let out a heavy breath. “You haven’t heard of something called Mewtwo, have you?”
Melanie shook her head.
“I’d be very surprised if you did. It was Team Rocket’s first attempt to create an artificial Pokémon. Oh, sure, cloning dead Pokémon from fossils is old technology, and unstable Pokémon like Porygon and Castform are nothing remarkable. Team Plasma created Genesect, certainly, but Mewtwo went a step further. You’re familiar with Mew, I assume?”
“The Progenitor,” Melanie said with a nod. “Second Pokémon to exist after the Creator.”
Juliet shook her head derisively. “While no one’s ever seen an Arceus as far as I know, Mew is simply extraordinarily rare and possesses interesting abilities—enough to be a god to primitive cultures, no doubt, but a Pokémon like any other. Still, its genetic structure was interesting enough that, with Mew’s genes as a template, we created Mewtwo.”
“The fact that I’ve never heard of this is probably ominous.”
“Very. The first Mewtwo we created…”
“Oh for the love of the gods, more than one of them.”
Juliet ignored the interruption. “…was certainly powerful, and for a time Giovanni used him as you would any trained Pokémon. Then he escaped. The tale of attempting to recapture him is a long and sordid one, but suffice to say after that failure we created a second. This too ended poorly, and significantly more violently.”
“This would be why Tribo isn’t using any existing Pokémon as a template,” Melanie added. It wasn’t a question.
“Right. Giovanni is utterly obsessed with creating the perfect Pokémon—for all Team Rocket pretends to be better than those Team Whatevers all over Japan, who want nothing more than the flood the land or to ‘free’ Pokémon from their trainers or inflate the bloody sun, we too have our crippling obsession. The only difference is most Rockets never discover what this obsession is. But in essence, the person in charge of the Tribo Project is in a very real sense second only to Giovanni in power, albeit not in a way that can be directly projected over others.”
“So there’s Roland’s motivation to try and control you. What do you suppose we do about it?” Melanie asked.
“I have my plans,” Juliet said. “There is, however, one uncomfortable thing I have to ask you to do.”
“After all this, what could possibly be ‘uncomfortable’?”
“I need you to reveal my Team Rocket affiliation to Sam,” Juliet said.
Melanie felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She tried to keep her Team Rocket life separate from her romantic life, and Ryan’s intrusion on one of their dates had been bad enough. But that brush with disaster still didn’t involve Team Rocket’s existence being anything more than an immaterial Other in Sam’s eyes. Given Sam’s past, she might simply choose to leave regardless of her attachment to Melanie.
“Why?” Melanie asked at last.
“Two reasons, neither pleasant,” Juliet explained. “The first is practical: If Sam knows about the situation, she’s better equipped to handle actual danger. Not every problem is an easy-to-repel Pokémon assault. Which leads me to the second reason. We have a Pokémon Master working for us. I don’t see any reason not to make use of her.”
Melanie scowled. Juliet’s explanation reeked of the same dehumanization behind keeping that psychic locked up in the old lab—a disgusting thing to do, but something Melanie could bring herself to overlook so long as she wasn’t personally involved in it. Applying that same level of dehumanization to Sam was unthinkable.
“No,” Melanie said flatly. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to justify her reflexive answer.
“You’re under the impression it was a request,” Juliet said darkly.
Melanie latched onto an idea, hoping it would be good enough. “I won’t tell her you’re actually a Rocket member—it’d be too close to her previous experiences with Team Rocket. Instead… instead, I have an idea that should work just as well.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Melanie explained her plan. After considering it, Juliet gave her approval.
“Sorry I’m late,” Melanie said as she came up behind Sam. The latter was already seated and from the looks of things had been working on her drink for a while. Melanie gave Sam a quick hug from behind and a kiss on the cheek before sitting down opposite her.
Sam smiled. “Actually, it’s enough seeing you be the late one for a change.”
“Law of averages,” Melanie said. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“Not really. It’s been about ten minutes, I guess.”
Melanie sighed as she sat down. “Sorry.”
“Work stuff?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Melanie said, unable to restrain a wince fully.
“I wasn’t aware Juliet’s ‘don’t let it get in the way of work’ thing applied to not being allowed to refuse unannounced overtime,” Sam commented drily.
“That’s…” Melanie began, and paused. She had the choice to drop her plan entirely, to pretend like her problems really were just a bad day at work. She could keep Sam out of the Team Rocket conflicts. For a brief moment, she seriously considered it as a possibility. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Somehow I think this is going to come with a story attached,” Sam said.
Melanie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She wished she knew how much of her nervousness was real and how much was affected. “After dinner, if you don’t mind. I really don’t want to spoil the mood.”
“It’ll be spoiled anyway if you keep it bottled in,” Sam pointed out.
“Just… it can wait. Please.”
“If you say so,” Sam sounded puzzled.
Melanie thanked whichever god of luck or fate was appropriate that their server picked this time to make another round past their table. By the time Melanie and Sam each placed their orders, enough time had passed for Melanie to change the subject with some level of reasonability.
Dinner was far from unpleasant. Melanie was used to keeping her Team Rocket membership secret, so that part was nothing new. She barely even thought of it in those terms anymore. Being a Rocket was simply some private aspect of her life that Sam didn’t need to hear about. After all, Melanie never brought up her exes, despite that she thought Sam might actually find the rather dramatic story of a particularly unfortunate one to be rather amusing. Same thing in her mind.
Melanie opted for dessert, if only to delay the inevitable. She invariably had a second stomach for dessert, and Sam certainly didn’t complain. A bit of sugar would probably go a long way.
It wasn’t until they left that Melanie brought up the subject of Team Rocket again. The twilit walkway to the parking lot was hardly a dramatic location, but Melanie learned long ago that any attempts to make things dramatic always backfired. Drama happened on its own and natural chaos and uncertainty always made things more tense than the most carefully scripted fiction.
“So, uh,” Melanie began uncertainly. “You remember I mentioned that thing at the start?”
Sam stopped and turned to face Melanie. With an understanding sigh, she said, “Out with it. That’s the best way to take this.”
Melanie glanced about avoidantly. “All right. It wasn’t really ‘overtime’ in the normal ‘extra work’ sense. I’m gonna give this some preamble just so it flows a bit better, okay?”
“Long story, eh?” Sam said.
“I assume you remember the Team Rocket attack on the old lab,” Melanie began. The mental image of Sam’s dragons all but effortlessly plowing through a small army of attacking Pokémon gnawed at the back of her mind. It was easy to forget Sam was a Pokémon Master, and while she was hardly the very best like no one ever was, she was still far stronger than anyone in Team Rocket.
“If they’re planning to attack again…” Sam grumbled.
“No, they aren’t. At least… not with Pokémon,” Melanie said. Sticking to her planned script was much harder than she anticipated. “They’ve tried the overt method. Now, well… look, the short of it is they’ve pressured Juliet into working with them. Siphoning off our research and any spare resources out of… some kind of protection racket.”
After a brief pause, Sam swore. She shook her head and looked up at the clouds. “Just never ends, does it?”
Melanie had a hunch this question was directed inwards. “I…”
Sam interrupted Melanie. “Tell you what,” she said firmly. “I’ll make it end.”
This broke all of Melanie’s pre-planned conversation paths. She’d expected to have to talk Sam into helping her, or to direct anger in the right direction. She hadn’t thought Sam might take the fight option instead of the flight option.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Melanie admitted.
“I can figure something out,” Sam promised. “All else fails, I have a good idea of where to turn for a few hints.”
Melanie idly wondered if Sam was referring to her sister with that. Alex’s apparent Rocket connections stymied even Juliet’s investigations. The fact that Alex began running the Neo League circuit right at the point the conflict erupted couldn’t possibly have been coincidence, especially not given Alex’s choice of travel partner. Terry’s presence was the most inexplicable part of it all—why him alongside someone like Alex? Dozens of unanswerable questions swam through Melanie’s mind.
“Anything you can share with me?” Melanie asked.
“Not really,” Sam said. “I don’t even know if there’s anything there. Just… a guess of mine.”
“All right,” Melanie said. An odd smile crossed her face, leaving her wondering whether it was a subconscious part of her act or whether it was something real slipping through. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Sam drew Melanie in for a tight hug. “I love you, Melanie,” she whispered. “I can’t just let this happen to a friend of yours.”
Melanie let her arms circle around Sam and absentmindedly stroked her short, chestnut brown hair. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. At least this way she could pretend to be worth Sam’s affection.
JewelQuest
New Member
Is is just me, or is Sam much more easy to sway in the this version?
JewelQuest: The answer to that question is kind of a "yes and no" thing. It helps to look at it from Sam's perspective and experiences. She had a bad history where Team Rocket duped her into working for them, and she thinks she's gotten away from all of that. She's even found a partner she genuinely loves. She's had to repel a pretty large physical attack already (which, as we saw in chapter 9, put considerable emotional strain on both Sam and Melanie), and now Team Rocket's (Team Rocket, New Rockets, she doesn't know there's a difference) trying a more subtle approach that has a much better chance of succeeding at (indirectly) ruining her efforts to date. Her options as she sees them are to run away from the problem again, which she'd probably do if she wasn't in a relationship with Melanie, or to fight it. Juliet and by extension Melanie are simply taking advantage of all kinds of factors that steer Sam's instincts towards fight rather than flight. Still, despite being one of the more naive SS cast members, she's not completely gullible—she's just operating on woefully incomplete and even outright wrong information.
Tagrineth: Sadly our favourite water mouse is only back in town for fanfic purposes, although I occasionally make forays into other subforums. What can I say, I'm weird and like to tinker with really old stories of mine—fun fact: Alex was pretty obviously trans right from day 1, despite me not knowing what transsexuality was when I first wrote the character at age 10-11 or so (that she's openly trans now is just the product of me, uh, let's just say knowing much more about the subject, rather than being anything approaching a recent development... basically what I'm saying is "tinker with" has less to do with the LGBT stuff that was always there, and more to do with simply getting better at writing crime drama). That said, I do remember you as being one of the more awesome people on here, so it's nice to see you're still kicking around.
“Well, that didn’t work out so well,” Sam announced as she dropped down onto the loveseat, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.
“Oh?” Melanie asked from what could have been called the dining room had it been a separate room rather than one part of a big room with a different type of flooring. Sam’s apartment left a lot to be desired in terms of floor layout.
Sam tossed her cell phone to the side, and it hit the cushion with a light thump. “Just… didn’t work.”
“At least tell me what this huge thing was about,” Melanie said.
“You’ll just laugh.”
“I won’t. Scout’s honour.”
Sam shot a look at Melanie. “Were you ever a scout?”
“I’ve bought cookies from them before, if that counts,” Melanie said.
To Melanie’s amazement, Sam actually facepalmed. Anything to lighten the mood given the rather trying week the two of them were going through.
“It’s… just…” Sam began, and trailed off. “I thought I knew a guy who had Team Rocket connections.”
Melanie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Well, Alex knew him better than I did, I guess,” Sam admitted. “It was pretty long ago though. Couldn’t expect much.”
Curiosity piqued, Melanie inquired, “How’d she know him?”
“It’s a long and boring story that doesn’t have much to do with Team Rocket anyway,” Sam said.
For any other audience, it may have been boring, but Melanie was very interested in anything that might solve the mystery surrounding Sam’s sister. No matter how anticlimactic, Melanie simply had to know.
“Who knows?” Melanie suggested as nonchalantly as she could manage. “I might be able to offer something.”
“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Helps to know that our parents separated when we were really young. Mom made no secret that I was her favourite—looking back, I thought Alex was dad’s favourite, but I think he was just trying to make up the difference. Anyway, we were shuffled back and forth a lot, and I never really paid much attention to things at dad’s place, but I remember there was this one guy on staff at school who seemed kind of… odd. Not like odd ‘creepy,’ just like he was hiding something. I never really got to know him that well before some kind of professional relationship sprung up, which would’ve made it awkward to go back and start asking questions.
“He always made sure the both of us got the best teachers in school, the best distance education when we were out running gym circuits… he even wrote letters of recommendation for me when I was applying to university. Somehow, doors magically opened when he got involved, but no one seemed willing to say much about him. It wasn’t something you notice as a teenager, so it might’ve just been my memories playing with me, but he just had that organized crime… aura to him, I guess you’d call it.”
Melanie listened to the story with interest, hoping she didn’t seem too engrossed. There was no way to tell from Sam’s story whether the man was a member of Team Rocket or for that matter any other criminal organization, or whether he was simply very well-connected. Still, it provided a potential lead she could have Juliet follow up on.
“What was his name?” Melanie asked.
“It was Daniel… something,” Sam said with a shrug. “Uh, Daniel Anderson. What, gonna look him up when you go for your doctorate?”
“Tempting,” Melanie replied with an odd grin. She didn’t recognize the name, but given the position the man was in he almost certainly wasn’t using his real name. “Just have to tell him what mob princess’ partner I am, eh?”
Sam’s frown let Melanie know instantly that she’d gone too far.
“Sorry,” Melanie apologized sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t,” Sam agreed, bitterness creeping into her voice. “How can you be so cavalier about all this, anyway?”
“Because the alternative is to freak out, okay?” Melanie countered with more harshness than necessary.
“Sometimes I think it’d be better if you freaked out more often,” Sam grumbled, barely audible. Melanie didn’t pursue that subject—better to let Sam think her unable to take things seriously than give her reason to suspect her relative calmness came from a position she absolutely should not have been in.
“Do you think Alex would have any better luck if you asked her to try?” Melanie offered.
“Probably not. The main problem I ran into is that he just… vanished. I think we’re better off trying to find another angle.”
“You’re the boss,” Melanie said. It felt strange to say this line to Sam, but past that initial strangeness, slipping into her cover role was surprisingly easy. Not that it particularly eased the strain on their relationship.
“Yeah,” Sam complained under her breath. “Come to me for help then put me in charge. That's really wonderful of you.”
Sam’s words were barely audible, and from the tone, it seemed Sam thought Melanie couldn’t hear them. Melanie wished she hadn’t. She stopped herself from replying that Sam was the Pokémon Master here. Besides, Sam did have a point she didn’t know she made—Melanie was underplaying her hand out of fear she’d give herself away, but was holding back too much. Melanie would have to rectify this.
Sometimes, Melanie thought, it simply felt like it was a race between solving the Team Rocket conflict and her relationship with Sam hitting the boiling point.
Lindsay lied.
Or, well, she didn’t lie so much as David read entirely the wrong things into what she said. When the tranquilized psychic said he was going to see Lindsay’s superior, he thought she meant he’d formally meet her, not simply have her present during research sessions that made Juliet’s look humane.
The most mind-boggling part was he went along with it. The first time Lindsay led him to the lab, produced a needle, and told him she was going to sedate him, he didn’t try to resist. He didn’t resist the second, third, or fourth time either. It likely wouldn’t have done much given the heavy dampening on his psychic abilities and the fact that physical resistance would likely have meant people bursting into the room to restrain him by force, but there was a principle to uphold.
Wasn’t there?
David looked at Lindsay as he sat on the bed. The tranquilized psychic often stood at the far end of the room when she didn’t have anything else to do. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out exactly why. He could guess, but lacking certainty was a new feeling. He didn’t like to think about possibilities unless he was completely sure of them.
He opened his mouth for a brief moment to say something, but decided against it. Every time he spoke to her, he reminded himself of how he pointedly asserted to Juliet that he wouldn’t let some kind of Stockholm syndrome set in, and wound up succumbing to it anyway. It was a painful memory, but at least resisting the effect was easier with Lindsay because…
Because…
Because she wasn’t human. The way David finished the thought unsettled him. For someone who’d been treated as merely a thing ever since he arrived in Idama, he was certainly quick to do the same to others. His mind raced, trying to justify this behaviour. In Team Rocket’s eyes, David wasn’t human because his psychic abilities made him into a thing to be studied. In David’s eyes, Lindsay wasn’t human because her brain had been irreversibly damaged as a result of her tranquilization. Therefore the invalidation of David’s humanity was wrong because he still had full mental capacity, but the invalidation of Lindsay’s was right because she didn’t.
So, David thought, bonus round: If I get tranquilized, should I accept being treated like a mere thing?
He shuddered at the prospect.
“How long?” David finally asked his question.
After a moment, Lindsay answered, “Estimated start time is approximately eighteen minutes.”
Approximately. Lindsay’s answer put an importance on individual seconds David couldn’t understand.
Well, there was no other way to pass the time. David asked, “So, Lindsay, you can’t tell me anything about Team Rocket as it currently is, right?”
“I may not divulge any information deemed sensitive,” Lindsay said dully.
“How about your own past?” David asked.
“I am not restricted from speaking of myself as long as it does not compromise anything currently sensitive.”
“It won’t,” David promised. His words weighed heavily upon him. He knew he wasn’t seeking information, but justification. “I just wanted to know more about you. How long you’ve been tranquilized. What you were like before then.”
Lindsay blinked. “I see no relevance in this.”
“You said people are healthier when they can socialize regularly, right? Well, I want to know about you.”
“I have been tranquilized for one year and eight months,” Lindsay explained, sounding altogether too much like an emotionless, computerized text reading. “Before my tranquilization I was a coordinator at a shipping concern in Johto. Two years ago, Team Rocket acquired me by force and used me to obtain specific information. Several months later, they eased my pain, and for that I am eternally grateful to them.”
Eased the pain they themselves inflicted, David thought. No, he realized a heartbeat later. She was referring to the pain of having psychic abilities. “You really see tranquilization as a favour?”
Lindsay nodded. “My life was so complex before. It was full of uncontrollable emotion.”
“You don’t miss your work?” David asked, agape. “Your friends?”
“I don’t see why I would. Friends are simply those to whom you have emotional bonds. I feel no specific attachment to any individual. Similarly, work is merely a task to be performed. I do as directed, nothing more.”
“You’re putting past events in present tense,” David countered. “You must’ve felt that attachment back then, right?”
Lindsay offered a minimal shrug. “I don’t think back to before my tranquilization. Those events and feelings are no longer relevant to my life. Dwelling upon them is unproductive.”
David stood up, looking into Lindsay’s eyes. “But your old friends still have feelings. They’ll still think about you, looking back on this friend who simply vanished one day, on someone who’s dead for all they know. That means nothing to you?”
“I’m afraid it does not.”
David swore and paced back and forth. As much as he wanted to believe that Lindsay was still human on some level, it seemed like she was set on proving him wrong at every turn. She had a human face, spoke with human language, and expressed logic in human terms, but at her heart she was only a simulacrum, a gynoid of flesh and bone.
“Is something the matter?” Lindsay asked clinically.
“You don’t care that Team Rocket enslaved you, do you?” David wondered, voice hollow. Vocalizing the thought added so much more weight to it than holding it in his head.
Lindsay tilted her head in confusion. “I am not a slave. I am free to leave their employment, the same as anyone may quit a job.”
“Why don’t you, knowing what they’re like?”
“I have no need to. I live comfortably with Team Rocket. They support me in ways which outside society would not. There is no logical reason for me to leave.”
“Even though they’re criminals to the last man?” David asked. He dispensed with subtlety and added, “How is staying here even remotely human?”
“You presume a sense of ethics and morality to be human,” Lindsay corrected placidly. Her tone was the same as always. “Those are relative constructs, not absolutes.”
“Emotion is human,” David announced. “A sense of right and wrong, any sense of right and wrong is human. Memories and attachments are human. Being human means living. It means having dreams and goals, even if they’re unattainable. There’s no point in being alive if you’re a hollow shell existing day to day under a pretense of pure logic.”
Rather than argue anything David said, Lindsay asked, “Would you make these same statements were I not tranquilized?”
Lindsay’s question was unanswerable. David would have liked to imagine he would have said the same things, but he couldn’t be certain. The only certainty he had was that regardless of anything Lindsay said, he was still different from her and he’d fight to keep that status quo.
The door opened and several Team Rocket members stepped through. They were obviously lower-tier thugs given the quality of their clothing. One jerked his head towards Lindsay.
“Get him ready,” the man grunted.
“I understand,” Lindsay responded. She turned to David. “It is time to return to the lab.”
David shot a glare between the two thugs and Lindsay. Grudgingly, he followed them into the brightly-lit hall. His mind felt more at ease the farther he got from the holding room—only that room and the lab had the technological wards that suppressed his psychic abilities. The anklet he wore dampened them but couldn’t eliminate them.
The lack of mental suppression was like a quick gasp of air to a drowning person. It could only offer false hope rather than change the situation. David found that the brief moments he was in transit were the moments he lived for these days. If, after his conversation with Lindsay, he could even call it living. Could he?
No, he couldn’t. He felt like Shan, playing along with something he knew would kill him in the end. He remembered condemning Shan for that, and feeling Shan’s death justified. He fought back during Michael’s ambush, and he could fight back now. There wasn’t any reason not to resist except for an encroaching learned helplessness that threatened to render him docile.
David’s anklet dampened his psychic abilities to the point where using them caused pain all over his body, the product of a strained nervous system. Even worse, they were harder to keep control of, but in this instance David could let that much slide.
One Team Rocket thug walked in front of David. The other walked behind him, accompanied by Lindsay. Lindsay’s mind may have felt like that of a dark-type Pokémon, but she possessed no immunity to his telekinetic abilities. Limbs threatening to spasm from pain that could easily have paralyzed him, David threw out a blast of psychic force around him, knocking his three captors into the walls.
David’s pace was erratic. His legs didn’t seem to want to work right. Small wonder, given the strain he’d just put himself under. He tried to ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach as he realized he wasn’t anywhere near out of this yet.
He glanced behind him and saw Lindsay of all people was the first up. Without thinking, he threw another blast of psychic force at her, this one unrestrained, unfocused. She hissed in pain and fell limply to the floor. It was the rag-doll fall of someone who wouldn’t be getting back up again.
If Lindsay knew what I just did, David thought, trying to ignore the searing pain now shooting through his legs, chest, and left arm, she’d probably thank me. The real Lindsay, not that twisted, desecrated mockery of her.
Regardless of someone else’s hypothetical attitudes, this meant David crossed a line he’d danced around twice before. The stroke he’d given that unfortunate trainer at the Saffron City gym was accidental, and while he was responsible, it wasn’t his fault. Shan’s death was premeditated, and while he was responsible for giving Charizard the order, David still felt it wasn’t really his fault. The situation simply demanded it, the same as this one.
What a load that is, David thought. Wasn’t he ready to let Liam die rather than kill someone if the situation with Michael came to that decision? Funny how his principles failed him now that it was his own life on the line. Now the floodgates were truly open, even though he fully believed Lindsay’s death to be mercy.
David made it to the ground floor before having to stop to rest. He didn’t see any cameras on the way down, but that didn’t mean Team Rocket wouldn’t know where he was and, more importantly, where he’d go. Telekinetic powers wouldn’t let him fly, so he’d have to leave by one of the exits. That left only two concerns: Whether or not Team Rocket could cover them all, and whether or not David could overcome the people guarding the doors.
As it turned out, David would never get that opportunity. He didn’t get much farther before running into several more Team Rocket thugs accompanied by the blonde-haired woman he supposed was the local boss.
Elizabeth. He remembered her name from overheard conversation. If she was anything like Juliet, he could probably keep her talking long enough to figure something out or even just prepare himself for another psychic burst.
“This is very inconvenient,” Elizabeth commented to no one in particular as she looked at David.
“I could hardly—” David began.
“Grab him,” Elizabeth interrupted.
So much for that. David dodged one thug’s lunge, but found his body simply couldn’t react as fast as he needed it to. He had to risk using his psychic abilities again.
A bright white flash temporarily blinded him as he tried to use his abilities and he fell to the floor. His vision slowly returned, but only in one eye. Dimly, he thought for a moment that he’d been struck over the head unaware by another Team Rocket thug. He tried to get up, but couldn’t move the blind side of his body. Too late he realized what happened—he’d strained himself too hard and finally something in his brain gave way. Something that couldn't be healed. Something that would swiftly kill him.
“How unfortunate if this is what I think it is,” Elizabeth commented, standing over David.
David wanted, at least, to confirm Elizabeth’s suspicion, but his mouth couldn’t formulate the words. His vision began to darken. He reflected that he’d never been as true to his principles as he claimed to have been, but he was proud to have made his stand in the end, no matter what it cost him. While any other day he’d have said life’s downs outweighed its ups, he felt now that this wasn’t true at all.
With his final breath, David silently thanked the gods for letting him experience a full and varied life.
Tagrineth: Sadly our favourite water mouse is only back in town for fanfic purposes, although I occasionally make forays into other subforums. What can I say, I'm weird and like to tinker with really old stories of mine—fun fact: Alex was pretty obviously trans right from day 1, despite me not knowing what transsexuality was when I first wrote the character at age 10-11 or so (that she's openly trans now is just the product of me, uh, let's just say knowing much more about the subject, rather than being anything approaching a recent development... basically what I'm saying is "tinker with" has less to do with the LGBT stuff that was always there, and more to do with simply getting better at writing crime drama). That said, I do remember you as being one of the more awesome people on here, so it's nice to see you're still kicking around.
Chapter 17 - Downward Spiral
“Well, that didn’t work out so well,” Sam announced as she dropped down onto the loveseat, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.
“Oh?” Melanie asked from what could have been called the dining room had it been a separate room rather than one part of a big room with a different type of flooring. Sam’s apartment left a lot to be desired in terms of floor layout.
Sam tossed her cell phone to the side, and it hit the cushion with a light thump. “Just… didn’t work.”
“At least tell me what this huge thing was about,” Melanie said.
“You’ll just laugh.”
“I won’t. Scout’s honour.”
Sam shot a look at Melanie. “Were you ever a scout?”
“I’ve bought cookies from them before, if that counts,” Melanie said.
To Melanie’s amazement, Sam actually facepalmed. Anything to lighten the mood given the rather trying week the two of them were going through.
“It’s… just…” Sam began, and trailed off. “I thought I knew a guy who had Team Rocket connections.”
Melanie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Well, Alex knew him better than I did, I guess,” Sam admitted. “It was pretty long ago though. Couldn’t expect much.”
Curiosity piqued, Melanie inquired, “How’d she know him?”
“It’s a long and boring story that doesn’t have much to do with Team Rocket anyway,” Sam said.
For any other audience, it may have been boring, but Melanie was very interested in anything that might solve the mystery surrounding Sam’s sister. No matter how anticlimactic, Melanie simply had to know.
“Who knows?” Melanie suggested as nonchalantly as she could manage. “I might be able to offer something.”
“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Helps to know that our parents separated when we were really young. Mom made no secret that I was her favourite—looking back, I thought Alex was dad’s favourite, but I think he was just trying to make up the difference. Anyway, we were shuffled back and forth a lot, and I never really paid much attention to things at dad’s place, but I remember there was this one guy on staff at school who seemed kind of… odd. Not like odd ‘creepy,’ just like he was hiding something. I never really got to know him that well before some kind of professional relationship sprung up, which would’ve made it awkward to go back and start asking questions.
“He always made sure the both of us got the best teachers in school, the best distance education when we were out running gym circuits… he even wrote letters of recommendation for me when I was applying to university. Somehow, doors magically opened when he got involved, but no one seemed willing to say much about him. It wasn’t something you notice as a teenager, so it might’ve just been my memories playing with me, but he just had that organized crime… aura to him, I guess you’d call it.”
Melanie listened to the story with interest, hoping she didn’t seem too engrossed. There was no way to tell from Sam’s story whether the man was a member of Team Rocket or for that matter any other criminal organization, or whether he was simply very well-connected. Still, it provided a potential lead she could have Juliet follow up on.
“What was his name?” Melanie asked.
“It was Daniel… something,” Sam said with a shrug. “Uh, Daniel Anderson. What, gonna look him up when you go for your doctorate?”
“Tempting,” Melanie replied with an odd grin. She didn’t recognize the name, but given the position the man was in he almost certainly wasn’t using his real name. “Just have to tell him what mob princess’ partner I am, eh?”
Sam’s frown let Melanie know instantly that she’d gone too far.
“Sorry,” Melanie apologized sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t,” Sam agreed, bitterness creeping into her voice. “How can you be so cavalier about all this, anyway?”
“Because the alternative is to freak out, okay?” Melanie countered with more harshness than necessary.
“Sometimes I think it’d be better if you freaked out more often,” Sam grumbled, barely audible. Melanie didn’t pursue that subject—better to let Sam think her unable to take things seriously than give her reason to suspect her relative calmness came from a position she absolutely should not have been in.
“Do you think Alex would have any better luck if you asked her to try?” Melanie offered.
“Probably not. The main problem I ran into is that he just… vanished. I think we’re better off trying to find another angle.”
“You’re the boss,” Melanie said. It felt strange to say this line to Sam, but past that initial strangeness, slipping into her cover role was surprisingly easy. Not that it particularly eased the strain on their relationship.
“Yeah,” Sam complained under her breath. “Come to me for help then put me in charge. That's really wonderful of you.”
Sam’s words were barely audible, and from the tone, it seemed Sam thought Melanie couldn’t hear them. Melanie wished she hadn’t. She stopped herself from replying that Sam was the Pokémon Master here. Besides, Sam did have a point she didn’t know she made—Melanie was underplaying her hand out of fear she’d give herself away, but was holding back too much. Melanie would have to rectify this.
Sometimes, Melanie thought, it simply felt like it was a race between solving the Team Rocket conflict and her relationship with Sam hitting the boiling point.
Lindsay lied.
Or, well, she didn’t lie so much as David read entirely the wrong things into what she said. When the tranquilized psychic said he was going to see Lindsay’s superior, he thought she meant he’d formally meet her, not simply have her present during research sessions that made Juliet’s look humane.
The most mind-boggling part was he went along with it. The first time Lindsay led him to the lab, produced a needle, and told him she was going to sedate him, he didn’t try to resist. He didn’t resist the second, third, or fourth time either. It likely wouldn’t have done much given the heavy dampening on his psychic abilities and the fact that physical resistance would likely have meant people bursting into the room to restrain him by force, but there was a principle to uphold.
Wasn’t there?
David looked at Lindsay as he sat on the bed. The tranquilized psychic often stood at the far end of the room when she didn’t have anything else to do. Try as he might, he couldn’t figure out exactly why. He could guess, but lacking certainty was a new feeling. He didn’t like to think about possibilities unless he was completely sure of them.
He opened his mouth for a brief moment to say something, but decided against it. Every time he spoke to her, he reminded himself of how he pointedly asserted to Juliet that he wouldn’t let some kind of Stockholm syndrome set in, and wound up succumbing to it anyway. It was a painful memory, but at least resisting the effect was easier with Lindsay because…
Because…
Because she wasn’t human. The way David finished the thought unsettled him. For someone who’d been treated as merely a thing ever since he arrived in Idama, he was certainly quick to do the same to others. His mind raced, trying to justify this behaviour. In Team Rocket’s eyes, David wasn’t human because his psychic abilities made him into a thing to be studied. In David’s eyes, Lindsay wasn’t human because her brain had been irreversibly damaged as a result of her tranquilization. Therefore the invalidation of David’s humanity was wrong because he still had full mental capacity, but the invalidation of Lindsay’s was right because she didn’t.
So, David thought, bonus round: If I get tranquilized, should I accept being treated like a mere thing?
He shuddered at the prospect.
“How long?” David finally asked his question.
After a moment, Lindsay answered, “Estimated start time is approximately eighteen minutes.”
Approximately. Lindsay’s answer put an importance on individual seconds David couldn’t understand.
Well, there was no other way to pass the time. David asked, “So, Lindsay, you can’t tell me anything about Team Rocket as it currently is, right?”
“I may not divulge any information deemed sensitive,” Lindsay said dully.
“How about your own past?” David asked.
“I am not restricted from speaking of myself as long as it does not compromise anything currently sensitive.”
“It won’t,” David promised. His words weighed heavily upon him. He knew he wasn’t seeking information, but justification. “I just wanted to know more about you. How long you’ve been tranquilized. What you were like before then.”
Lindsay blinked. “I see no relevance in this.”
“You said people are healthier when they can socialize regularly, right? Well, I want to know about you.”
“I have been tranquilized for one year and eight months,” Lindsay explained, sounding altogether too much like an emotionless, computerized text reading. “Before my tranquilization I was a coordinator at a shipping concern in Johto. Two years ago, Team Rocket acquired me by force and used me to obtain specific information. Several months later, they eased my pain, and for that I am eternally grateful to them.”
Eased the pain they themselves inflicted, David thought. No, he realized a heartbeat later. She was referring to the pain of having psychic abilities. “You really see tranquilization as a favour?”
Lindsay nodded. “My life was so complex before. It was full of uncontrollable emotion.”
“You don’t miss your work?” David asked, agape. “Your friends?”
“I don’t see why I would. Friends are simply those to whom you have emotional bonds. I feel no specific attachment to any individual. Similarly, work is merely a task to be performed. I do as directed, nothing more.”
“You’re putting past events in present tense,” David countered. “You must’ve felt that attachment back then, right?”
Lindsay offered a minimal shrug. “I don’t think back to before my tranquilization. Those events and feelings are no longer relevant to my life. Dwelling upon them is unproductive.”
David stood up, looking into Lindsay’s eyes. “But your old friends still have feelings. They’ll still think about you, looking back on this friend who simply vanished one day, on someone who’s dead for all they know. That means nothing to you?”
“I’m afraid it does not.”
David swore and paced back and forth. As much as he wanted to believe that Lindsay was still human on some level, it seemed like she was set on proving him wrong at every turn. She had a human face, spoke with human language, and expressed logic in human terms, but at her heart she was only a simulacrum, a gynoid of flesh and bone.
“Is something the matter?” Lindsay asked clinically.
“You don’t care that Team Rocket enslaved you, do you?” David wondered, voice hollow. Vocalizing the thought added so much more weight to it than holding it in his head.
Lindsay tilted her head in confusion. “I am not a slave. I am free to leave their employment, the same as anyone may quit a job.”
“Why don’t you, knowing what they’re like?”
“I have no need to. I live comfortably with Team Rocket. They support me in ways which outside society would not. There is no logical reason for me to leave.”
“Even though they’re criminals to the last man?” David asked. He dispensed with subtlety and added, “How is staying here even remotely human?”
“You presume a sense of ethics and morality to be human,” Lindsay corrected placidly. Her tone was the same as always. “Those are relative constructs, not absolutes.”
“Emotion is human,” David announced. “A sense of right and wrong, any sense of right and wrong is human. Memories and attachments are human. Being human means living. It means having dreams and goals, even if they’re unattainable. There’s no point in being alive if you’re a hollow shell existing day to day under a pretense of pure logic.”
Rather than argue anything David said, Lindsay asked, “Would you make these same statements were I not tranquilized?”
Lindsay’s question was unanswerable. David would have liked to imagine he would have said the same things, but he couldn’t be certain. The only certainty he had was that regardless of anything Lindsay said, he was still different from her and he’d fight to keep that status quo.
The door opened and several Team Rocket members stepped through. They were obviously lower-tier thugs given the quality of their clothing. One jerked his head towards Lindsay.
“Get him ready,” the man grunted.
“I understand,” Lindsay responded. She turned to David. “It is time to return to the lab.”
David shot a glare between the two thugs and Lindsay. Grudgingly, he followed them into the brightly-lit hall. His mind felt more at ease the farther he got from the holding room—only that room and the lab had the technological wards that suppressed his psychic abilities. The anklet he wore dampened them but couldn’t eliminate them.
The lack of mental suppression was like a quick gasp of air to a drowning person. It could only offer false hope rather than change the situation. David found that the brief moments he was in transit were the moments he lived for these days. If, after his conversation with Lindsay, he could even call it living. Could he?
No, he couldn’t. He felt like Shan, playing along with something he knew would kill him in the end. He remembered condemning Shan for that, and feeling Shan’s death justified. He fought back during Michael’s ambush, and he could fight back now. There wasn’t any reason not to resist except for an encroaching learned helplessness that threatened to render him docile.
David’s anklet dampened his psychic abilities to the point where using them caused pain all over his body, the product of a strained nervous system. Even worse, they were harder to keep control of, but in this instance David could let that much slide.
One Team Rocket thug walked in front of David. The other walked behind him, accompanied by Lindsay. Lindsay’s mind may have felt like that of a dark-type Pokémon, but she possessed no immunity to his telekinetic abilities. Limbs threatening to spasm from pain that could easily have paralyzed him, David threw out a blast of psychic force around him, knocking his three captors into the walls.
David’s pace was erratic. His legs didn’t seem to want to work right. Small wonder, given the strain he’d just put himself under. He tried to ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach as he realized he wasn’t anywhere near out of this yet.
He glanced behind him and saw Lindsay of all people was the first up. Without thinking, he threw another blast of psychic force at her, this one unrestrained, unfocused. She hissed in pain and fell limply to the floor. It was the rag-doll fall of someone who wouldn’t be getting back up again.
If Lindsay knew what I just did, David thought, trying to ignore the searing pain now shooting through his legs, chest, and left arm, she’d probably thank me. The real Lindsay, not that twisted, desecrated mockery of her.
Regardless of someone else’s hypothetical attitudes, this meant David crossed a line he’d danced around twice before. The stroke he’d given that unfortunate trainer at the Saffron City gym was accidental, and while he was responsible, it wasn’t his fault. Shan’s death was premeditated, and while he was responsible for giving Charizard the order, David still felt it wasn’t really his fault. The situation simply demanded it, the same as this one.
What a load that is, David thought. Wasn’t he ready to let Liam die rather than kill someone if the situation with Michael came to that decision? Funny how his principles failed him now that it was his own life on the line. Now the floodgates were truly open, even though he fully believed Lindsay’s death to be mercy.
David made it to the ground floor before having to stop to rest. He didn’t see any cameras on the way down, but that didn’t mean Team Rocket wouldn’t know where he was and, more importantly, where he’d go. Telekinetic powers wouldn’t let him fly, so he’d have to leave by one of the exits. That left only two concerns: Whether or not Team Rocket could cover them all, and whether or not David could overcome the people guarding the doors.
As it turned out, David would never get that opportunity. He didn’t get much farther before running into several more Team Rocket thugs accompanied by the blonde-haired woman he supposed was the local boss.
Elizabeth. He remembered her name from overheard conversation. If she was anything like Juliet, he could probably keep her talking long enough to figure something out or even just prepare himself for another psychic burst.
“This is very inconvenient,” Elizabeth commented to no one in particular as she looked at David.
“I could hardly—” David began.
“Grab him,” Elizabeth interrupted.
So much for that. David dodged one thug’s lunge, but found his body simply couldn’t react as fast as he needed it to. He had to risk using his psychic abilities again.
A bright white flash temporarily blinded him as he tried to use his abilities and he fell to the floor. His vision slowly returned, but only in one eye. Dimly, he thought for a moment that he’d been struck over the head unaware by another Team Rocket thug. He tried to get up, but couldn’t move the blind side of his body. Too late he realized what happened—he’d strained himself too hard and finally something in his brain gave way. Something that couldn't be healed. Something that would swiftly kill him.
“How unfortunate if this is what I think it is,” Elizabeth commented, standing over David.
David wanted, at least, to confirm Elizabeth’s suspicion, but his mouth couldn’t formulate the words. His vision began to darken. He reflected that he’d never been as true to his principles as he claimed to have been, but he was proud to have made his stand in the end, no matter what it cost him. While any other day he’d have said life’s downs outweighed its ups, he felt now that this wasn’t true at all.
With his final breath, David silently thanked the gods for letting him experience a full and varied life.
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JewelQuest
New Member
And there goes David. Not that I am too surprised, he wasn't as important of a character as he was in the last version.
Anyway, great chapter! Looking forward to the next one!
Anyway, great chapter! Looking forward to the next one!