Chapter 2
I spent the better part of a week organising my little office. Just as long as I didn't do anything outrageous with it, I was free to arrange and decorate it how I liked. I guess it was these little freedoms that I was most grateful for. I'd been provided with everything I needed to live and work under Giovanni's order - from my workspace to a fully furnished apartment and even a wardrobe full of business attire that I was expected to wear on the job. Though interestingly, none of my outfits contained the Team Rocket logo.
Choosing to work at a place called 'Headquarters' for the entire week, Giovanni hadn't even set foot into the Gym, so most of my days were spent on my own. For some reason, the lunchroom always seemed that much fuller when the Boss was away. A hive of activity and noisy chatter, I very soon became aware of the ranking system that went on. Admin staff on this table, field ops on that, gym staff over there…
While the gym was only a small part of the organisation, people from a vast variety of fields seemed to work from it. I was yet to find out about the massive underground network that stretched out right across Viridian City.
One particular afternoon I'd come down for coffee. I generally went about my business unnoticed, but on this particular occasion I hadn't realised someone had come up behind me to wait his turn for coffee machine. I turned and promptly ran right into him, spilling my coffee all over his uniform.
"Oh my legendaries!" I exclaimed, my hand immediately going to my mouth. "I'm so sorry."
The Rocket looked to be in his mid twenties and had the body of Machoke. He wasn't amused either, especially as his table of friends - who had seen the whole incident – burst into loud laughter.
"It's alright," he spoke through clenched teeth, casting a glare over at his friends which he soon covered up with a sarcastic smile. "But it's going to cost you," he winked.
I thought it best to take my break up stairs at that point, especially as my face went a deep red which only set off his friends even more.
Sometime on Friday, I received a visitor from the IT department.
"Knock knock!"
My head shot up at the face who grinned at me from across the reception area. I hadn't even heard her come up the stairs. I was under the desk at this stage, attempting to hook up the computer.
"Hello?" I pulled out from under the desk, careful so as not to bash my head as I'd already done times before. "Can I help you?"
The technician smiled at me, leaning over the desk. Bright pink hair matched her beaming face and instead of the regular Team Rocket uniforms that I'd gotten accustomed to, she wore overalls containing a small R on her front pocket.
"I'm here to hook you up," she beamed.
I blinked. "Hook me up?"
She nodded, signalling to the computer. "You know, get your computer connected to the network. You're gonna need it if you're going to work in reception."
"Oh!"
In a single motion she hurdled the desk and landed neatly beside me, grabbing my hand into a rough shake. "The name is Zoë. World famous computer hacker at your service," she gave me a playful jab, "Just don't dob me into the cops."
My reaction was less than promising. "oh…" I repeated.
But Zoë only laughed. She appeared the sort who would laugh at anything - a wide smile seemed to be permanently planted on her face. I stepped back and allowed her access to my computer, taking the time to work on finishing my coffee which had since gone cold. Zoë finished connecting the computer before taking up a seat and booting it up. While she waited for it to start she tapped a finger rhythmically on the desk and hummed a tune to herself before turning to me with an inquiring smile. "You're a virgin hey."
I spat my drink.
"You're a newbie. I mean." The woman chuckled. "I can see it written all over you. Neatly dressed, hair up in a bun. So what brings you to Team Rocket anyway?"
In order to avoid any more accidents, I gently placed my mug down on the desk. "Finances."
"Ah," Zoë nodded knowingly. "Boss calling in your debt? Yeah we have a few of your kind around abouts. Well since the big changeover and all."
I watched over her shoulder as she produced a pokéball from her belt and then proceeded to connect the front button to a cable and plug it into the computer. A bright red flash enveloped the screen for a second before a Porygon appeared in its place. Though, unlike the ones I'd seen before, this one was all pink and had what looked to be a Mohawk on its head.
"Porygon, perform start up function six two nine. Provide gym sectary clearance to a…" She glimpsed my employee card on the desk. "Delia Ketchum."
The little digital Pokémon nodded and went about its business, pulling files and setting up connections.
"He's cute," I said.
Zoë grinned. "Yeah, he's my best buddy – my partner in crime. He goes everywhere with me. I'm actually working on developing an upgraded version."
"Sounds interesting. And that's what an upgraded Porygon would look like?"
Zoë sniggered. "Probably not. Ping here just likes to look different, he's got spunk. Ah there, all done." She withdrew Ping back into his Pokéball. "You're all set up and ready to get into the real work now, Delia. Giovanni keeps a pretty rigid schedule, which incidentally, you are now in charge of. He keeps it on his personal computer which you can access wirelessly from here. The first thing every morning you'll need to connect to the mainframe and download any updates and then every evening before you leave you'll need to perform a system backup. If you have any other problems, then don't hesitate to give me a call." She handed me her business card then offered me a sympathetic smile. "Good luck. And don't worry, it does get easier."
Needless to say, Saturday afternoon didn't come soon enough. I was exhausted from a long week of work. I decided to walk home through the park even though the apartment building was only across the road from the gym. After being locked up in a building for six days, it was just refreshing to be able enjoy nature again. Viridian was full of parks. It was a city of gardens and took pride in the fact. Taking off my shoes, I let my toes wriggle into the soft grass before flopping back on the ground under a tree and watching the sun set over the river. The evening brought on a cool and crisp breeze that seemed to just carry off my worries and thoughts of the day, leaving my mind a blank canvass to take in my surroundings. The sky was ablaze with reds and pinks as the sun made its steady decent beyond the horizon. Small Pokémon such as Pidgey and Rattata – who had become accustomed to Humans – scurried and flapped about, getting their little nests ready to sleep for the night.
"Bullbbaaa," A light wail caught me unaware and I jumped upright.
I searched for the source of the sickly wail only to discover a Bulbasaur lying on the ground behind a bush. In his paw was a large thorn which he licked and nipped at in attempt to get it out.
"Oh you poor little thing!"
The Bulbasaur reared immediately, pulling back at my approach.
"Don't worry, I wont hurt you. I want to help you."
"Bulbaaaa,"
I let it analyse me for a moment before it figured I was telling the truth and held out its paw. Crouching down beside it, I gently worked on getting the thorn out before taking off my jacket and using it to dab away the blood. The wound wasn't serious, it would heal in time.
"There," I said softly. "All better."
"Bulba!" The little Pokémon perked up, checking its paw and then head-butted my hand in thanks.
"You're welcome." I smiled, watching it wander off through the bushes.
A part of me envied it. As a wild Bulbasaur, it was free to go about as it pleased. A privilege that I was sure would not befall me for many years to come.
When I got back to my apartment, there was a message on the machine from my parents. I really didn't feel like talking but decided to give them a call anyway. Naturally, they were concerned for my wellbeing. But to be honest, I didn't feel like I was working for a criminal organisation. I was just working as the secretary for a wealthy business owner. However, my conversation was cut short by a knock at my door. It was the technician from the other day, what was her name? Zoë.
"Hi Delia!" she beamed. Her overalls had since been replaced with a casual pair of track pants and a tank top. "I know its kind of short notice but I'm having some mates from work over for a game and drinks. I was wondering if you wanted to join us? Ya know, get to know some people. I'm just down the hall in apartment thirty six."
I was beyond tired but the offer was too tempting to pass up. If anything, friends were what I most needed right then.
"Alright," I replied with a smile. "Just let me have a shower and get out of these clothes and I'll be down in a bit."
I knocked on the door of Zoë's apartment, precariously balancing a large plate of guacamole and corn chips in my hands.
"Delia!" Zoë answered it, greeting me with another one of her beaming smiles and grabbed at the plate I held. "Oh you didn't need to do that! Here, let me help you." She relieved me of my burden before signalling me to the kitchen table where four other Rockets I recognised from the gym sat- each one holding a hand full of playing cards.
"We've only just started," Zoë placed the plate in the middle of the table which was immediately attacked by a couple of the men.
Zoë went into introducing each guest by name, some of them were in uniform and others weren't. One who was in uniform was the Rocket I'd spilled my coffee on who Zoë introduced to me as 'Logan'. He watched me now, beady, inquiring eyes staring at me from beneath his hat.
"Take a seat!" Zoë showed me to a chair and poured me a drink from a blender – an interesting homemade concoction that went right to my head.
"This guacamole is amazing! Have you tried this, Zoë?" Zoë's other lady friend, whose name now escapes me, offered. "Did you make this Delia?"
I nodded meekly. "It's an old family recipe. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen."
"I'll bet all of your cooking is this amazing."
It was nice to hear compliments, especially coming from people who were so stooped in the world of crime. And as the evening progressed and the stories of missions and scores came to light, I came to realise that the people of Team Rocket saw the world through an entirely different set of eyes. To them the world was a place of opportunity ripe for the picking. Things like the law were merely guidelines – a way of life that didn't necessarily suit them. For instance, when Zoë had said she was a computer hacker, she wasn't joking. The girl was a genius, having graduated college at only the age of seventeen. She was a whiz at computers and reigned from a family of such-like people in Cerulean. Starting out as a programmer, she soon came to discover her talents in the field of hacking. Unfortunately, however, her reputation fast caught up with her and after a bungled attempt at breaking into the payroll system of some sort of business, she found herself promptly arrested and carted off to prison. Little had she realised, however, that the business she'd been hacking into was actually owned by none other than the previous head of Team Rocket, Madame Boss. This had grabbed the attention of Madame Boss' then executive – her son, Giovanni - who promptly went about offering to relieve her of her current punishment if she came and worked for him. Prison or a life of hacking for Team Rocket… the offer was difficult to refuse.
"So, I heard Gio bought a new island just off the coast with the purpose of putting some sort of research lab on it?" At the sound of Zoë's utterance, all eyes turned intently on Logan.
"Perhaps," he smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Who wants to know?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Aww come on Logan! Give us the dish!" Zoë exclaimed, throwing popcorn at him.
"You wish! That's top secret!" Logan retorted.
"We won't tell."
Logan scoffed, eyeing us off carefully, though I could tell by the way his lips twitched that he was just as eager to give up the information as we were to hear it.
"Alright," he sighed finally, rubbing his eyelids. "If word of this gets out though, I'm dead. From what I know, Giovanni is directing Team Rocket into a more scientific field. He's getting into some sort cloning experimentation. You know, like what the losers on Cinnabar Island are doing with the fossils. Except this is less reviving of so-called extinct species and more genetically enhancing ones that are already around."
"Sounds dangerous," I mentioned.
Logan had to agree. "It's strictly illegal, which is the reason why we had to go offshore. If the government gets wind of this…" he drew his finger across his throat as if to slit it. "Team Rocket is history."
The ethical issues alone were phenomenal. Attempting to improve on nature was never a good thing. I knew this for a fact. Before it became illegal, such experimentation had gone on within the government. I'd spent an entire semester studying it. The serious look on my face didn't go unnoticed either.
"You have a problem with that, Delia?" Logan snapped me from my thoughts and I straightened, forcing an ignorant smile. "With what, Logan?"
His eyes were narrow as he frowned at me. "You're not gonna go all martyr on me and let word of this slip to anyone we don't want finding out are you?"
"Who? Delia?" Zoë burst out laughing. "You don't need to worry about her. She's one of us now. Besides, what would any of us know about genetic research?"
I copied her laugh. "Oh yeah, it's all so… very scientific."
Much to my relief, Logan relaxed, backing down into his seat. "Good. Because if I find out word of this got out, you'll all be dead. That's a promise."
Needles to say, I left the games that evening unsettled and anxious. With its new Boss taking over the ranks, Team Rocket was swiftly moving along from being based on Pokémon smuggling and dodgy deals to something a lot more sinister. Granted, the research was only in the beginning stages, but how long would it be before they unleashed something unnatural into the world… a Pokémon mutant – an abomination. Giving Pokémon powers beyond what was normal meant they became harder and harder to control. Something like that being brought into the world would only reap disastrous consequences. I needed to tell someone, but where would I go? I was more than certain Giovanni had corrupt police officers in his employ. Really, who could I trust? And even though Logan's threat had been taken with joking and laughter at the table, I'd seen the look in his eyes. I didn't have a doubt in my mind that he was more than capable of carrying out his word.
