Siryntown was a picturesque city, with its tall, old-style architecture and cathedrals, arches and fountains. The university especially was a nice place in terms of aesthetics. The old English style buildings were set in the acres of garden and there was even a very small zoo.
It was here that I sat, upon a low stone wall, talking to Fenrill, the swamp Mew.
"I don't see why the urgency," I said, "Ozmos is going to have her pups soon and I want them to be born in a proper place, not on the road somewhere."
"Can't you just leave her here," the little pink cat queried, chasing her tail, "I don't wish to alarm you, but I am very worried about my family, my sisters." A single tear trickled down her cheek. I reached out and patted her on the head.
"I know, but I just want to be with her when she has the pups," I said, "she's been my friend for so long and I don't want to leave her when she needs me most."
"I understand," she said sadly. And I knew that she was sad not only because she missed her sisters, but also because she could never have pups of her own. It was rough being immortal.
I stood up and stretched, staring across at the cages filled with animals. I felt sorry for them, although they were here for research purposes, it still seemed cruel to incarcerate them. Doctor Warwick, my mentor, had explained to me how they were here because they could no longer survive in the wild. They were true animals, all of them, from the spotted Genet to the tiny Bushbaby and the Chipmunk. He was studying how the introduction of Pokemon had reduced the population of these animals to next to nothing. Extinction was a terrible thing. They were being preserved here, merely because there was no other place to put them. They could not be put back in the wild, where they would be killed by Pokemon, so they were doomed to live their lives here, in captivity. Some of the students at the university were sitting around, watching them, sketching them, noting their behaviour. They compared them to Pokemon that were extant (opposite of extinct) and sought differences. It was of great fascination to many scientists how Pokemon actually worked – how they managed to blow fire or water or create storms. I personally thought it's origins lay in magic, a force which had been reawakened in the land when the Pokemon had first appeared.
I reached out and patted Fenrill on the head. "Come on, girl," I said, "let's see how they're doing?"
"I am no girl," Fenrill replied telepathically, "I am as old as the waterways, the swamps, the rivers…"
"Sorry," I muttered, feeling abashed. I made my way back down the paved pathway towards the main library. A few of the students glanced up at me as I walked past, but they more or less ignored me. I was a good three years younger than the youngest of them, being now fifteen years of age. Kameron had turned sixteen two weeks ago and was basking in his new found maturity. He was sitting in the quad outside the Mathematics Department, playing ball with Azriel. In one hand he held an Item Ball, which he tossed into the air, where the Eevee promptly leapt up and grabbed it in his mouth, throwing it back. Beneath the bench, a pair of red eyes glowed, Shadeon, unable to be far from Kameron (who carried her pokeball) hid from the brightness of the day.
"What's up?" Kameron asked, rolling the ball down his arm and flicking it into the air, where Azriel promptly leapt up, missed it and had it roll across the stones.
"Fenrill wants us to move on," I said, sitting down beside him. He patted me on the knee.
"You want to too, don't you?" He asked, "I can tell."
I nodded, "I get restless hanging around the same place for too long, I think things changed after our last adventure, and I want the new one to get underway."
"Ozmos will have her kits today or tomorrow," he informed me. It was not just a reassuring piece of information. It was likely to be a fact.
As if on cue, Fenrill's bright blue eyes suddenly glinted. "It is time," she said, and neither of us questioned her psychic abilities.
Recalling Shadeon and scooping up Azriel, Kameron and I began running towards the dormitory room that I occupied. Luckily I had private quarters, for Pokemon running wild in someone's bedroom was not generally considered good form. Ozmos lay in a large basket in the warmest corner of the room. She had dragged in old scraps of cloth to make a rough nest and in here she now lay, a look of intense concentration and pain on her face. Florion stood beside her, whimpering reassuringly and nudging her with his cold nose. It was wonderful to see such love and dedication in something that was not human.
Ozmos was whimpering and in a semi-vicious mood, but she still sniffed my hand and licked me, when I put it out for her, to show her I was here. Her sides heaved as she birthed her first pup. The tiny creature screamed as it entered the world, a full-throated bawl not unlike that of a baby. Kameron grasped my hand as the emotions of the mother, mingled with my joy and Fenrill's sad longings overwhelmed him. Empathy could be such a curse sometimes, especially when you couldn't turn it off.
We watched in quiet amazement as Ozmos gave birth to another five pups, all of which welcomed the daylight with lusty cries, moving blindly crawling upwards to suckle their first milk. And then, when we had thought she must be quiet finished and Florion was licking her head enthusiastically, she squeezed one more time, pushing out a pathetic gold-coloured bundle, wet from the womb, and flopped over, drooping in exhaustion. The last pup, number seven, did not move.
"There's something odd with these pups," Kameron stated, as he stood beside me, putting his arm about my waist. "They're not Eevees."
And indeed they were not, but that was not my concern at the moment, my concern was that last pup, the still one. I picked it up, and Ozmos barely even noticed. It looked absolutely nothing like an Eevee and had very little similarity to the other pups either, being a dirty brownish-gold colour. It was still in my hands. I wiped away the birth-sac from its fur but still it did not seem to breathe, did not appear to even be alive. With concern rising from the pit of my stomach, I could not bear to see any animal denied life before they had the chance to live it, I sat down on the bed and held it in my hand, belly up. Its tiny legs sprawled pathetically. And then, as I had seen them do on television and been taught how to do in a First Aid class, I covered its tiny muzzle with my lips, making sure its mouth was open first, and tried to breathe life into it.
There was no reaction. Kameron, noticing the tears in my eyes, sat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulders once more, but made no further move so as not to hinder me.
But I, as you all know by now, am not one to give in easily. I tried mouth-to-mouth again, and, the fifth time, I thought I could feel its tiny heart beating stronger. It wriggled in my hand. I held it there for a few moments, letting the warmth of my hands and my healing abilities bring further life into it, then I carefully knelt down beside Ozmos, removing the biggest of the pups, and attaching the runt to the nipple. It clamped on immediately, seeking the milk as urgently as any child.
Feeling somewhat emotionally drained partly from relief, I then collapsed on the bed beside Kameron. He leaned over me and kissed me lightly on the lips, not seeming to mind the fact I had just given mouth-to-mouth to a baby … something.
"You really do love them, don't you?" Fenrill sent, bouncing on the bed beside us and chasing her tail. "I am glad I chose you, and I am glad we waited."
"Thank you," I said to the Mew, flailing out with one hand to pat her. "It means a lot to me, and in a few days, we can go and find your sisters."
"You must wait until your child is well," she replied, much to my surprise, "another week will not do great harm."
Unfortunately, later that night I found the runt lying in the corner of the basket again, nearly dead. It had been pushed away by its more boistrous siblings. Placing it in my dressing gown pocket, I hastened to fill a hotwater bottle, which I covered with a towel and placed the baby on that. Then, with as much speed as I could manage, I rushed down to Doctor Warwick's Office.
As usual, he was up late, marking essays.
"Hey there Kataryna," he greeted me, smiling warmly, "how may I help you today? And why are you wearing your pajamas and a dressing gown?"
"I need to learn how to hand-rear a baby Pokemon," I said urgently, "right now!"
Recognising the urgency in my voice, Doctor Frances deemed it unecessary to beat around the bush. "Ok," he said, "one of Ozmos's I trust?"
"Yes, the youngest."
"So I need to know how to hand read an Eevee," he mused, "I'd say, you need a combination of this much Mirutank milk and this much water." He scrawled something down on a piece of paper, "plus a touch of malt, for taste."
"It's not an eevee," I pointed out, "but it should work anyway!"
"Not an Eevee," I heard him mutter as I departed as though my feet were winged, "what would it be there?"
The infant was slightly better when I returned, it seemed a little more alive. Kameron was not there of course, it was approaching midnight and for some obscure reason they wouldn't let the two of us share a dorm. I had made a side-track on the way downstairs to collect a syringe (one still in its wrapper) from the laboratory, and this I filled with the mixture of milk, water and malt. Holding the baby carefully in one hand, I dripped the liquid onto its lips and its tiny pink tongue flicked out, seeming to invigorate it and it suddenly latched forcefully onto the syringe, emptying it quickly. I filled the syringe twice more before the baby finally stopped suckling and curled up, falling asleep in my hand.
Now I could examine it carefully, I saw that it looked nothing like any Eeveelution I had ever seen before. Its fur, now dry from the birth process, was a dull gold, banded with black like a bumble bee. Around its neck was studded with what appeared to be buds, such as were found on Chiko's neck. A black tuft of hair rested between two extremely ill-proportioned ears and its tail looked not disimilar to its father's. The other infants were unlike Eevees too, but they simply bore resemblance to the Eevee equivalent of a Vaporeon or a Florion, or with some features of both, none were as amazing different as this wee mite. If the ones with features of both were hybrids, then what was this one? Which had features of neither? Pondering this for a moment, but too weary to do anything further, I placed the infant against Maki and Kiki, who were asleep in a basket atop the bedside table. Maki muttered sleepily, blinked his golden eyes at me and wrapped his barred tail about the child, before dozing off again.
Sighing, I set my alarm clock for four hours time, and dozed off, knowing that I would soon have to wake once more to feed the little mite.
Two days later, and the little pup was still doing well. I however, was not so good. The continually disturbed sleeps, the continual worry, I was beginning to feel like a mother aged only fifteen years of age! Kameron helped me out where he could, but he'd got himself a job working at a local petrol station and could not stay up erratic hours. I was haggard, irritable and not a lot of fun to be around! The other pups were doing just fine, putting on weight and their eyes were starting to focus.
Doctor Warwick came to visit them with a veterinarian student and gave each of them a thorough going over. It appeared both the Vaporeon look-a-likes were female, and the others were all male, bar the little mite I was hand-rearing. It was also a female. This lead to some interesting speculation about what wild Florions were like. It appeared they had been seen in the wild indeed!
"Excuse me Kat," Doctor Warwick knocked on my door.
"Yes?" I asked a little grumpily, "what is it?"
"There's someone here who says its really important that she talks to you."
I rolled my eyes. "Very well then. Send her in."
He ducked off and appeared a few moments later with an attractive young lady. She had chopped her rainbow-coloured hair mostly off, but it was still obvious whom it was.
"Freyja?" I stepped back. "I don't want anything to do with you! What in Hades name are you doing here? What is she doing here Frances? She's trouble!"
Freyja scuffed her feet awkwardly on the carpet. "I need your help," she muttered, staring at the ground.
"Why ever would you expect me to help you? You've been our nemesis all along, you've tried to steal my Pokemon, tried to hurt me, almost killed both of us and we're nothing but enemies! Get out of here before I call security!" Now, usually I am a fairly understanding person, but you've got to realise that lack of sleep, the stress of being mother to a small furry animal and the fact that she had been nothing but trouble for us, all amounted to making me just want to get rid of her.
"Um, Kat," Doctor Frances Warwick ventured, "would you like me to fetch Kameron for you?"
It was not a foolish suggestion. Kameron could tell if she was genuine or if she was just trying to manipulate us.
"Yes please," I said. Then I noticed Freyja was almost crying. Her green eyes were red and brimming with tears. "Now," I turned my attention on her once more, "tell me, why are you asking me for help?"
"It's Loki," she said softly, "he's gone power hungry. I always knew he was bad, but he's finally decided to claim his rightful place as boss of Team Rocket."
"His rightful place?" She had my attention now!
"Um, yeah," she said, all but mumbling. "His father was Giovanni, and despite the fact that he didn't seem to want this known whilst his father was still boss, he has claimed now that he should rightfully be the Boss."
"So what?" I asked. "If not him, then someone else would do it." I moved into my room and started mixing formula for the baby.
"You don't get it," she said, "he thinks he rules it all, all of us and can tell us what to do, when and how." She hesitated and stared at her hands. "He wanted me to marry him, but I could never do that. And when I refused, he tried to force me, so I ran away." She looked up at me and I noticed that despite that ugly chopped mess she had made of her hair, she was still astonishing beautiful and seemed to exude innocence.
"I don't see why this is any concern of mine," I replied haughtily, aware that I was being bitchy. I drew some formula into the feeding syringe.
"It's really Kameron I want to talk to," she confessed, "he's successfully quit Team Rocket and I want him to help me, for at least he'll understand."
"Someone summoned me?" Kameron queried, materialising at the door. He was clad in a relatively neat dress shirt and trousers with his name on the pocket. His job was mainly desk work so he had to dress tidy. When he saw Freyja he took a step back. "It's you!" He announced.
"Kameron," Freyja whispered, "you've got to help me, I've left Team Rocket and I don't have anyone to turn to – you're the only people I know in the real world!"
"That's really sad," I said sarcastically. Kameron stepped through and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. I knew it was his subtle way of telling me off for being rude.
For some reason, possibly tiredness, his attitude really bugged me, but I bit my tongue. Kameron was the one person I would not snap at, I respected and loved him too much for that. Instead I scooped up the baby and fed her. She murmured delightedly.
"She's genuine," he whispered in my ear, then kissed it. That was enough to make me smile and relieve my irritation somewhat. It was easy to forget that you could not hide emotions from Kameron, especially my emotions.
"What do you want us to do?" He asked.
She shrugged her delicate shoulders, "I think I just need some support, you know, to know that I can be accepted," she said, her eyes overflowing somewhat.
"And, of course, somewhere to live," Kameron added.
She nodded mutely.
"I'll see what I can do, won't we Kat?"
"Whatever," I replied, concentrating on feeding Ozmos's daughter.
"Thank you so much," she said enthusiastically, stepping forward and giving Kameron an impromptu hug.
The jealousy surged in me. But I pushed it down, I was just tired, I told myself.
"Doctor Warwick?" I called, knowing he was still standing in the hallway, "can we find some place for Freyja to stay?"
"We are not running a hostel here!" Doctor Frances replied, "but I shall see what we can do, although it will be for but a few days at the most."
"That'll do," Freyja replied, "it'll give me time to go out and make some money, so I can pay for alternative accomodation. And my expenses of course. I've got a bit of money, Team Rocket pay well, but…." She let the sentence trail off.
"Come with me," Doctor Warwick suggested, "and we shall try and sort something out." I could see her beauty was affecting him as well.
"Thank you all," she said, stepping out to trail along behind him.
"What do you think?" I asked Kameron as soon as they were gone, "it does seem very convenient, don't you think? That as soon as Ozmos's litter are born, she turns up."
"She wasn't lying," Kameron stated. "People can change, people can seek to improve their lives." He played with my hair idly. "I did, and I'm so much happier now." He coiled a strand of it around his finger.
"Still, her?"
The young man shrugged. "We shall see," he replied enigmatically, "just don't be too hard on her Kat, she's going through a very rough time. Trust me, I know!"
I sighed. "I shall be the epitome of politeness," I replied. "I just don't trust her, that's all."
In my hand the baby Eeveelution finished her syringe, rolled over and went to sleep. I stroked her fur gently and wondered what lay ahead for all of us.