Chapter 1
"Hey kid! Hurry up! Mrs. O'Malley's here and she want her Nibbles back!"
The loud bellow from across the field caused a tall 13-year-old girl hunched in the mud to groan in pent-up frustration. She had been trying to get a Poochyena puppy out from under a pile of hay bails (how and why it had dug itself under she had no clue) but now she had to slop all the way over to the stables to get an infuriating Stantler stag for an equally infuriating old woman with more money than sense. She shoved limp brown hair out of her eyes and consoled herself with the knowledge that Mrs. O'Malley tipped well and the hope that maybe, just maybe, her plotting would pay off for once.
It wasn't easy, working at a Pokemon Daycare. It was labor intensive with long grimy days and had involved a crash course in everything from basic veterinary skills to office management. But since the genetic engineering of the beloved Nintendo creatures five years ago religious fanaticism, hotly debated politics, and the sheer price of obtaining one had kept Pokemon so incredibly scarce that even seeing one was a rare treat. The girl remember all too well the elation that the day had held, hearing the announcement that Nintendo had secretly succeeded in genetically engineering over 400 of its beloved game animals, evolutions and all. She like many other children who heard the news had welcomed the idea of becoming a pokemon trainer in real life. Several miserably disappointing years later, she and so many others had yet to achieve that dream.
Because as usual, the adults of the world had to muck everything up.
The few Pokemon religious fundamentalist nuts didn't kill right off the bat, the government had banned outright. It took over three years for environmentalists to get behind the idea of animals and plants that could defend themselves and their homes from further human encroachment and various national governments and big time corporations around the world were still having conniptions. PETA had waged an unsuccessful international campaign to stop the use of the creatures in battling that the girl didn't understand (there had been something about pit bulls in their argument but Catherine hadn't really paid attention) but the animal rights organization had at least been successful in stemming the mass slaughter of the genetically engineered creatures by the general public.
And of course, the Nintendo Company had been slapped every which way with lawsuits. No one had been really happy about the unauthorized creation of hundreds of new species. The secret research into psychic abilities and the human DNA that was supposedly used in a few pokemon creations had just made the media fervor worse. People had actually accused Nintendo of plotting world domination. Personally, Catherine was of the opinion that anyone who could do all that probably deserved to rule the world, but she kept it to herself. The company was just now getting itself back into production of not only games but now real pokemon training equipment and the chore of setting up an actual Pokemon League and distributing licenses and starters. To say everything was backlogged would have been a massive understatement.
Standards were finally in place in the US and they didn't make many very happy. You had to be 12 to get a license to own a pokemon but couldn't travel out of your home state on training journeys until you were 14 and then you needed parental permission for nearly everything: taking the test, accepting the license, which Pokemon you got, travel permits, the works. With all the negative press Pokemon were still receiving, few parents were willing to let their children get them at all. Most trainers were adults, and rich ones at that. Getting a Pokemon often involved a lot of money and connections that kids just did not have.
Catherine's own parents disapproved of Pokemon and were of the opinion that their creators had been playing God but they weren't willing to kill the creatures themselves. Catherine took the small consolation that the adults who ran her life felt that killing Pokemon for no reason was worse than creating them, if only barely. And they barely tolerated Catherine's devotion to them. Her parents were deeply opinionated, and most of their opinions seemed ridiculous to their daughter, but they weren't stupid people. They knew Catherine was too stubborn for them to outright forbid her from becoming a trainer. Instead they took a method of passive aggressive sabotage. Catherine could do what she wanted, but they weren't going to pay for any of it. Had they ever been surprised to find out about her job at the Daycare.
Catherine shook her glare away and focused on the painted red wood in front of her. Both hands were needed to shove open the heavy stable doors and the girl wasted little time retrieving the haughty stag and, stopping only to skritch the ears of a pretty Vulpix vixen sharing the space who looked just a little plump, high tailing it to the warmth of the Daycare's main building.
"Ah, Catherine, there you are. And Nibbles," greeted the daycare owner cheerfully. Old Mr. Carter had been a retired dog breeder until the opportunity to create the only Pokemon Daycare in the Mid-Atlantic had come his way. Business was smashing despite all odds.
Although she was the youngest of all the caretakers, Catherine was by no means coddled. Convincing Mr. Carter to give a 12 year old a job had been difficult to say the least, and Catherine was grateful for both the job and that getting it hadn't required a sacrifice of dignity. Time yes, lots and lots of time, but no dignity. But the stubborn girl had proven her dedication through blood, sweat, and, occasionally, tears, and had been accepted by the other caretakers in the Daycare. She often did the menial, grimy jobs that the other more experienced workers hated without too much complaining. Catherine was happy enough to be near Pokemon all the time.
But part of her still wanted to be more. That annoying ancient cartoon theme song still echoed deep in her heart and Catherine wanted to be more than just devoted. She didn't really care about being the best. She'd be happy with being good. Heck, she'd settle for simply being a trainer.
Seeing the overly enthusiastic Mrs. O'Malley fuss over her "precious Nibbles" and his perfectly groomed coat and overconfident attitude only cemented that wish.
'Gods,' she thought, 'I really need a Pokemon.'
o. o. o.
Shifting the twenties into her pocket, Catherine grinned, the smile actually reaching her blue eyes and putting a skip in her step as she hopped onto the bus to home. With Christmas just around the corner and Mrs. O'Malley's tip to help see her through the holidays sales things were looking bright. Even her beloved grandparents were coming up soon so the end of the year was looking good. And though her plan was not yet complete the signs were good; she just had to wait a little longer. Patience was a virtue and all that crap.
Catherine's good mood kept her skipping all the way off the bus and onto her remote suburban street before everything came crashing down…literally.
An angry bellow was followed by the deafening crack of a gunshot and a large oak branch fell inches from her nose; Catherine dropped to the pavement on pure instinct. The screaming continued and revealed the culprit to be a red-faced man roughly in his forties that Catherine recognized as a normally docile neighbor. Now though, the usually friendly man was yelling at the top of his lungs about a ruined garden and freak squirrels. The last part caught Catherine's attention but before she could respond another booming crack brought down another branch.
And a very angry blue and white squirrel.
"Pa~CHI!" the little Pokemon screamed and, upon seeing the human getting up in front of it, started sparking menacingly. Catherine grimaced and scrambled backwards. Tripping over herself to get away, Catherine was too slow to avoid the hyped up electric Pokemon and screamed as a bolt of powerful static sent her back to the pavement. Shaking, she tried to get up again and away from the angry Pachirisu.
Her movements only seemed to make the squirrel angrier and it readied another bolt. Catherine winced in anticipation but before the Pachirisu could fire again, a sharp twill rang through the air. Catherine looked up in time to glimpse the largest Pidgey she had ever seen (not that she'd seen many) body slam the Pachirisu talons first.
Whatever happened between the two Pokemon took place far too fast for Catherine to distinguish. What she did know was that in just a few seconds the Pachirisu was hightailing back into the woods and she was curled back up on the pavement trying to guard an angry flapping bird from her equally angry neighbor, and he was flapping a gun. A double chunking sound sent Catherine's heart dropping into her stomach. She summoned the courage to look up, only to have it dissipate as she stared up the track of a double-barreled shotgun.
Her brain sputtered to a halt at the sight.
"Missy you let go of that freaky bird right now," ordered her (now certifiably insane) neighbor.
Catherine didn't respond. Her mind was still trying to get past the loaded shotgun. Were guns supposed to look greasy and dirty? Her dad's were pretty clean. Were the ends of a barrel supposed to look frayed? Didn't that mean he'd sawed off the ends? Wasn't that illegal?
Was her brain really focusing on such asinine details when survival was on the line? Bad brain! BAD! Man with gun. AIMED. AT. YOU.
The angry neighbor repeated himself with a growl and a nudge of the gun that only made Catherine curl up tighter in fear. She started stuttering wildly at the man. Oddly enough the Pidgey protected by her arms went still and twittered along with her. The man's grip on his gun shifted, but still he did not fire. However angry the Pokemon's twittering made her neighbor Catherine was slowly realizing that he was not willing to shoot with her caught in the crossfire. Slightly emboldened, but mostly desperately relieved, by the man's reluctance to commit murder in broad daylight, Catherine gathered the bird more securely in her arms and slowly got to her feet.
Her refusal to release the Pidgey made the man threaten her again with the gun but now Catherine only glared and shook her head roughly. She was angry now too, but didn't trust her voice yet. Luckily a yell from down the street distracted both humans from any escalating violence.
Catherine sagged in relief to see a much more familiar neighbor, a beloved old French lady who lived across from her, rushing toward them in a panic. On impulse Catherine shoved past the gun-toting madman and ran full out to the overprotective embrace of one Madame Bertrand.
o. o. o.
Nearly an hour later Catherine was so happy her joy could be compared to a balloon. She felt light and free and fully capable of floating away all on her own. It was nice, she decided, to see adults get a talking-to. And dear old Madame Bertrand, mother of four and grandmother to nine, was an expert in talking-to's.
The mad-in-more-ways-than-one Mr. Jones (Mdm. Bertrand had kindly included his name at the beginning of her rant) had been thoroughly humiliated by the little old lady. A sawed-off shotgun was no match for the power of a well-practiced finger wave and what had been a near homicidal maniac was now a meek and apologetic man.
"And you!" Madame Bertrand was finally winding down, "If I ever see you do something so thoroughly irresponsible again Monseur Jones I will hit you upside the head with your own gun and let you explain yourself to the police instead of just this girl's parents!"
And the older woman motioned for both the girl and the man to move towards Catherine's home. And parents.
Catherine's happy little bubble promptly burst.
o. o. o.
Blue eyes were scrunched in an effort to conceal her furious pace of thinking. Catherine was nearly desperate. The brown bird still tucked in her arms gave off would-be comforting coos but it only reminded the girl of what she was up against.
Her parents were furious. Obviously they were mad at Mr. Jones; no one liked to hear that someone had shoved a gun in the face of their 13 year-old daughter. But they were also blaming the situation on Pokemon in general, claiming that if the creatures didn't exist the problem would have never happened. And, Catherine felt, they were also blaming her. She didn't miss the contemptuous looks her parents had given the Pidgey or the angry and disappointed glares they had given her when she readjusted her arms to hide more of the bird from view.
It wasn't fair! The little bird had saved her from the Pachirisu! And it had tried to save her from Mr. Jones too! And even now it was nestled in her arms acting tame as could be in the face of people who definitely wanted to harm it. As far as Catherine was concerned the little fluff ball deserved a medal.
So her mind was literally racing, trying to come up with any reason or excuse that could convince her parents that the little bird was okay and maybe…possibly… deserved to stick around.
It was kind of cute after all, even if it was just a Pidgey.
So as her parents finished yelling at the psychotic neighbor and turned to her, Catherine steeled herself. She had her argument, she had her courage, and as her parents started to address her Catherine reminded herself of her dream and her determination to have a Pokemon. She straightened her back and looked her father in the eyes.
o. o. o.
That evening found Catherine banished to her bedroom.
'So much… for my dignity,' she thought, but there was no real bitterness to it.
The ache in her bottom protested her position on the bed and the ache in her head protested the light from the lamp. But both pains were ignored because her ears were rejoicing in the sound of happy coos and her fingers were reveling at the feel of soft feathers and her eyes still couldn't believe the not so little ball of brown and cream feathers was actually on her lap.
She had her first Pokemon.
And the price had been her pride. She briefly wondered if she should be more concerned about that, but mostly Catherine was just happy.
For all her reasoning and logic, Catherine's argument for keeping the precious little bird had fallen on deaf ears. Sensing utter defeat and the loss of damn near everything she had worked for and wanted for years Catherine had been forced to fall back on a tactic she hadn't used since the second grade, wasn't very good at in the first place, and usually backfired on her. But desperate times called for desperate measures, so Catherine had reminded herself of all the times it had worked for her little sister Heather….and cried.
Catherine had given in to all the fear and panic of the afternoon, and her ongoing frustrations had poured in on top. She hadn't even had to fake it, the tears came as soon as she let down her walls. Within minutes, she had been bawling at the top of her lungs, Madame Bertrand rubbing soft grandmotherly circles in her back, trying to choke out words to her parents. They had been shocked at her outburst, and faced with a bawling baby girl, her parents had pushed past her rough language and moved to comfort their daughter, bird and all. Mdm Bertrand had suggested kindly, when sobbing had died down to wet hiccups, that the little bird helped their daughter feel safe after such a traumatizing encounter.
Catherine barely saw her parents' stricken looks, and didn't really hear the threats her father snarled at Mr. Jones as he threw the man out of the house. She had just clung to the Pidgey, and buried herself in Mdm. Bertrand's arms as her mother tried to pet her hair. She hadn't allowed, hadn't really even wanted her mother's embrace, until both parents had given in about the Pokemon.
At her wit's end, Catherine had bawled through tears and hiccups that it wasn't fair they throw out something that had consciously put itself in harm's way just to protect her. The Pidgey had saved her, and obviously liked her (this had been supported by an eager chirp) and it just wasn't right to punish it or her for something that wasn't their fault. And it wasn't their fault!
It had actually come as a shock to Catherine, upset as she was, she was half-certain her parents would toss her out of the house along with the bird. Perhaps she had said the last part out loud, too, because her mom and dad spent the next half hour rocking her in a double embrace with assurance she would always be their baby.
Catherine grimaced at the humiliating memory. Maybe her sister had something here…it had been ages since Catherine had gotten away with such open defiance. But was it worth it? Catherine shook the thought from her head. No, it wasn't, not usually. Maybe just this time she'd let herself get away with it, but she could never be like her sister.
Catherine loved her little sister, but the younger girl was often too much for her to handle. If she were honest with herself, Catherine would have admitted that her sister was simply better at dealing with people than she was. The girl was truly amazing at socializing and had a large "collection" of people that most others would call friends. Catherine wasn't too sure though. She certainly didn't like most of them. And Heather wasn't very nice to some of them either, which Catherine couldn't understand.
Catherine could never really understand the comfort of other people's company and there were few people she ever truly enjoyed being around. Her grandparents topped the short list. Catherine had just always felt far more at ease around animals. It was part of the reason she loved Pokemon so much. Animals that could think! The idea made her squirm excitedly. And she had one now, finally her own Pokemon.
It was the mention of needing a Pokemon license to legally keep the bird that had earned her a spanking ('A spanking! At thirteen!') and subsequent grounding but Catherine had to admit it might have been pushing too far with her parents, near death trauma or not. They still agreed to finally sign the forms for her test and license but her parents were very unhappy.
'Odd how happy that makes me,' she thought as she fought the urge to snicker madly. Instead she smiled as she stroked her new Pidgey again.
"You know," she told it, "You need a name."
It cooed and cocked its head to one side in confusion.
"Well," Catherine explained, "I can't just call you 'Pidgey' 'cuz there's lots of you. And I won't call you 'Pidge' 'cuz that's just stupid. Hmmm…" Catherine's palm rested against her chin as she tapped her nose with one finger in her favorite "thinking pose".
The Pidgey only gave a soft coo to encourage more petting. Catherine relented but continued to think about a good name for the little bird. A thought struck her.
"I should probably find out what gender you are first." She gently lifted the bird up. A quick check revealed the answer ("Male.") but got an indignant squawk.
The bird Pokemon hopped to the other side of the bed in protest but Catherine only giggled at it. 'Him,' she corrected herself.
Thinking through possible names was harder than she thought. She wanted to give the Pidgey the right name, something that would last it through all the evolutions. Eventually, her eyes wandered with her mind and she ended up staring at her manga collection. Whoever came up with the idea of associated thoughts would be happy to know that Catherine's mind finally followed a clear path of thinking. It wasn't a hard leap to go from manga to Osamu Tezuka to Astro Boy. And from Astro Boy Catherine clearly remembered that his Japanese name contained the kanji for 'flight' so…
"Tobio."
The pidgey chirped in confusion at the word.
"Tobio," Catherine grinned at her new partner. "That's your name. Tobio. Because you're super fast, super strong, and super brave. Or at least you will be," she amended cheerfully, "It's perfect."
From the sound of the happy chirping, Tobio agreed.
And Catherine's night faded to happy cooing and a deeply contented sigh.
A bitter argument was brewing down the hall, but she was oblivious.