All We Know Is Falling
d i n o b o t
Chapter 2 – Pressure
"Ash Ketchum, have you no shame?"
"Whaaa?" Ash turned around, his mouth jam-packed full of food. He was met by set of turquoise eyes glaring back at him.
"Typical, Ash. This isn't the time for you to stuff your face, you know," the redhead smirked, giving him a quick wink.
"Sorry, Misty," he apologized after swallowing. He looked down at his plate, stacked to its full capacity. He carefully placed it on a white cloth table and took a slip of water from his cup.
"I didn't get a chance to eat today; I'm starving," he said.
"What were you doing all day?" Misty asked.
"Oh you know, just regular stuff, that's all," Ash shrugged with a blanket of generality.
"Did you just get here?" Misty asked, changing the subject. "I didn't see you during the funeral service."
"I—uh, got there kinda—late. I slipped in the back," Ash stammered.
"Late?" Misty repeated.
"I know, I know," Ash threw his hands up, trying to justify his behavior. "I should've been there early or at least got there when it started. I really don't know how, I just lost track of time. I know it's something that I always do and—"
"Ash," Misty interrupted him.
"Uh, yeah?"
"I wasn't going to say all those things," she assured him.
Ash confusingly rubbed the back of his head. It seemed like everyone he knew was pointing out his usual hallmark of tardiness or absentmindedness, especially in critical times like today. Ash was almost used to it but he wasn't used to this, especially coming from Misty.
"You weren't?" he warily asked.
"No," Misty shook her head. "I'm sure you had a good reason for being late."
"Uh, sure," Ash turned away and broke their eye contact.
He lied. Ash knew the reason for being late to Professor Oak's funeral was not an honorable one. The last few weeks Ash was stressing about his application he sent in to the Pokémon League Agency. The League only selected a handful of candidates every year from a pool of thousands of qualified trainers. The rejection rate was staggering. But after three arduous weeks of waiting Ash received his acceptance letter. It was a huge weight off his shoulders.
The relief however did not last. Now Ash had to deal with an overwhelming obstacle in front of him. The Pokémon League was one of the hardiest institutions to become part of. If one was fortunate to survive basic training they had to endure advance training. Only a few trainers actually passed.
The training program for future agents was rumored to be brutal, grueling and demanded nothing less than perfection—and Ash is going tomorrow.
"I'm just really distracted right now," Ash began. "I've kinda had a lot on my mind, that's all."
"Sure," Misty responded consolingly. "Pokémon training is hard enough. I mean, trying to become an agent has to be like million times harder."
"Wow, thanks," Ash sarcastically smirked. "That means a lot, Misty."
"You know what I mean," Misty playfully knocked him on the shoulder. "What I'm trying to say is I think you'll be fine."
"You do?" Ash was stunned. Misty never made it a habit to offer any type of encouragement. A hammer to the face or a snide comment was more her style. His curiosity perked him closer.
"What makes you think so?"
"Ash, don't you remember what I told you all those years ago?" Misty asked.
"Uh—that I was lazy?"
"No, not that," she replied.
"Ignorant?"
"Noooo…" Misty impatience swelled. She took the initiative as Ash clearly didn't have the answer.
"Ash," she said softly. "You just need to give it your all. I know that good things will happen if you keep doing your best."
She did it again. Nobody ever explained it so simply to him before. It made sense. It worked. Ash smiled. Misty returned the favor.
"Thanks, Misty."
"You're welcome. By the way, did you get a chance to talk to Gary yet?"
"No," Ash said, realizing he should have made that a top priority. "I need to do that before I leave. Where is he?"
"I think I saw him over there," Misty said, pointing toward the other side of the room.
"Good," Ash said as he took a few last bites off his plate. "Are you leaving right now?" he asked as Misty turned in the opposite direction.
"Yeah," she gave an uneven grin. "I have to travel all the way back to Cerulean City. Being a Gym Leader has its busy schedules, you know."
"I'm sure it does," Ash teased her.
"I'll see you later."
"Okay, bye!" Ash waved.
"Oh, and Ash," Misty called from a distance. "You can't pull off that suit! Stick to your regular wardrobe!" she laughed.
"I know—" he chuckled. "I hate these things."
THREE YEARS LATER
"Ash, are you listening to me?"
"What?" Ash shook his head, trying to resurface from his thoughts. "I'm sorry Paul, what were you saying?"
"I was asking you about Gary. I'm sure you could give me some information on him that's not in his profile."
"Uh, sure I guess—"Ash said still stuck in his head.
"What were you thinking about that's more important than this anyways?" Paul said annoyed.
"Nothing, I was just letting my mind wander," he quickly answered. Ash turned his attention to Paul's inquiry. "Well, what does the League have on Gary already?"
"Not much," Paul tapped on his laptop and read the profile.
Name: Gary Oak
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Brown
Birthplace: Pallet Town
"That's all? That can't be it!" Ash yelled, aiming the laptop screen to his direction.
"Well, there's his bio but that doesn't really help." Paul cleared his throat and began. "It says: "Gary Oak registered to become a Pokémon Trainer at the age of ten and traveled through all four regions. He decided to become a Pokémon Researcher and moved to Sinnoh to conduct his research. He moved back to Pallet Town and assumed head researcher when his grandfather Professor Samuel Oak passed away three years ago."
"Does it say anything about his research?" Ash asked.
"No, not a single file," Paul frowned.
"That doesn't seem right," Ash sighed, staring out the circle shaped window of The Pokémon League owned private jet. The white wispy clouds hung in the air evenly beside them as the plane broke them apart. Ash shifted his weight on his seat opposite from Paul. The table with the laptop stood in between them. Pikachu peacefully slept on the chair adjacent to Ash's.
"What do you mean?" Paul asked.
"I thought Gary would've published his research by now. You know, he'd get some recognition from all the wonderful things he said he was going to do."
"Why would you say that?"
"It was the last time I talked to him," Ash said trying to remember. "I was at the funeral in Pallet. He said he'd continue to carry on his family name; that he would carve out a legacy greater than Professor Oak."
"Well, maybe he couldn't cut it. Maybe it was too much for him."
"No, you're wrong," he refuted his accusation. "I've known Gary for a long time. He wouldn't just give up like that!"
"Look," Paul tried to calm him down. "I'm just saying pressure is a difficult thing to handle. Hell, living up to Professor Oak's name is enough pressure in itself. Plus, you haven't talked to the guy in years. People change over time."
"How would you know?" Ash grumbled under his breath.
"What was that, Agent Ketchum?" Paul sternly shouted.
"Nothing, sir. It was nothing," Ash mumbled formally.
"Ash," Paul sighed. "I need your expertise on his mission not your bad attitude. This is serious. I need you to keep your head in the game, is that clear?"
"Yes sir," Ash replied stoically; as if he needed to be reminded of that.
"Good. I'm going to do some paperwork. We land within the hour. We'll go to the lab when we touch down," Paul said, scribbling on a stack of papers. He turned to his laptop and continued to work on it.
Ash leaned back on his head rest, reclined his seat in an obtuse angle and patted Pikachu on the head. Ash shut his eyes and allowed his thoughts to wonder again. Paul didn't know what he was talking about. People don't change.
ONE HOUR LATER
"These steps are shorter than I remember," Ash whispered to himself. He looked up at the giant wind turbine. It was years since Ash visited Professor Oak's laboratory. The Pokémon Research lab was still the pride and centerpiece in all of Pallet Town. It basically stayed the same, except for some minor neglect on the structure and grounds.
"Hey Slowpoke, you coming?" Paul shouted from the top of the stone step path. Ash slowly complied, making his way to the top.
"May I help you gentlemen?" Officer Jenny stopped them as they approached the entrance.
"Yes, we're the agents investigating this case," Paul said arrogantly. "Please step aside," Paul entered almost knocking Officer Jenny over.
"I think he means 'Is there anyway we can be of assistance?'" Ash chimed in, poking his head in the doorway.
"Well then," Jenny said, trying composing herself. "The laboratory is this way, follow me."
"We know where it is, you may leave it to the professionals," Paul smugly waved her off as he entered the doors to the lab.
Officer Jenny growled angrily. It had been a long day. The last thing she wanted to deal with was attitude from arrogant men. Ash took the opposite approach.
"I'm sorry about that," Ash apologized. "Have you found anything yet?"
"No—our instructions of the League were to wait for the Pokémon Agents to arrive before we examined the crime scene. But if I knew they were going to send him I would have started by now!" Jenny grumbled.
"Well, thank you for waiting," Ash said embarrassed. "By the way, where's Tracey Sketchit?"
"Who?" Jenny asked.
"He's a Pokémon Watcher. He helps out at the lab."
"Oh, you mean the assistant," Jenny said placing her hands on her hips. "I'm afraid he's in pretty bad shape."
"What do you mean?" Ash asked worriedly.
"Tracey was in the lab when Gary was kidnapped. By the time we got there he was unconscious on the floor. We rushed him to the nearest hospital."
"Oh good," Ash gave a sigh of relief. "Has he said anything? Does he remember anything?"
"Last time I checked he was still asleep. You can visit him after you're done here."
"Thank you, Officer Jenny," shook her hand appreciatively.
"Ash!" Paul's muffled voice emanated from the other room. Ash smiled timidly and bid Officer Jenny farewell. Jenny turned and stormed out the room mumbling something incoherent. Ash entered into the Pokémon laboratory.
"Whoa," he exclaimed as he looked around. The room looked like it was subject to a Whirlwind attack. Tables, chairs and couches were aimlessly turned over. Various papers and books were recklessly knocked off the bookshelves and onto the floor. Different Pokémon equipment and machinery lay smashed beyond repair sparking their last few signs of life.
"Gary—" Ash whispered. "What happened to you?"
"What a dump," Paul scowled as he picked up a few stray papers.
"Well, they were definitely looking for something, that's for sure" Ash looked at the empty bookshelves. "Did you check the Pokémon storage room? They keep all the extra Pokémon in there. They're still in their Pokéballs; easy prey for thieves."
"Yup," Paul answered still reading over the crumpled papers. "All of them are safe and sound."
"So they weren't stealing Pokémon," Ash said confused. He looked at a nearby computer screen.
"How about the data from the computers? Find anything on the hard drives?"
"Most of the computers are smashed beyond repair. The ones that aren't are all wiped," Paul responded. "It's a lost cause."
"Damn it!" Ash shouted. All their leads were proving to be dead ends. Whoever committed his crime knew how to cover their tracks. There wasn't a stray piece of evidence left.
"One thing is for sure," Paul stated. "They came to steal his research. They took all the data and erased the backups. They stole the hard copies too. These papers are just basic Pokémon research from years ago." He cast them aside.
Ash frustratingly ran his hands through his hair; things were not looking optimistic. He bent down and flipped the couch back to its original orientation. A small torn piece of paper caught his eye.
"Find something?" Paul looked over his shoulder.
"I'm not sure," Ash said examining it from all angles. The small paper had various numbers written on it; the last number was halfway cut off.
Paul was not impressed. "It's nothing; just some random piece of trash."
"Maybe," Ash whispered. He put the tattered piece of paper in his pocket.
"Well, whatever was here is gone now," Paul said walking out. "This place is a dead end. We better try somewhere else. Did the officer tell you where the assistant is?"
"Tracey? Yeah, she said she would tell us after we're through here."
"Well we are," Paul dryly responded. "I'll get the information from her so I can interview him. You work with the police and see if you can find anything else."
"What? Wait a second," Ash stopped him. "I think it would be better if I talked to Tracey."
"And why is that?" Paul demanded an answer.
"I know Tracey," Ash began. "I think he'll be more open to talk if it were me. I don't want his interview to turn into an interrogation."
"Okay, Ash" Paul agreed after a brief pause. "You go to the hospital and I'll consult with the local police. But if he reveals anything important—anything; you report back to me first. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
A FEW HOURS LATER
"Excuse me, miss?" Ash asked leaning over the nurses' station desk. "I'm looking for a friend of mine who was admitted to this hospital yesterday."
"Alright," the nurse grabbed a small clipboard and read down the list of names as she tapped her lips with her pencil. "What is his name?"
"Tracey Sketchit."
She sighed. "Okay, he's here. But, I'm afraid visiting hours are over. You'll just have to come back then."
"No, you don't understand," Ash explained. "I'm a Pokémon League Agent, I need to ask him a few questions for an investigation."
The nurses' demeanor changed immediately; she started to blush.
"Oh, an agent!--he's in room 212; right down the hall. You can take as much time as you need," she said smiling.
"Uh, thanks," Ash uncomfortably replied. That was weird. What was all that about? He followed the nurses' directions and entered the room. Ash opened the door, slipped in and softly closed it.
Tracey lay motionless on the hospital bed; his forehead was wrapped and bandaged. A few small wires from his wrist and chest ran to a small heart monitor beside the bed. The machine 'beeped' steadily to a set of rhythmic patterns. Ash took the chair next to him.
"Tracey? Tracey?"
Tracey's eyes gradually opened as he turned his head. He blinked twice and slightly sat up straight.
"Ash? Is that you?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's me," Ash smiled. "It's been a while, huh?"
"I'll say," he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm here to check on you."
"Really?"
"Sure," Ash leaned forward. "I also need you to, uh—ask you a few questions regarding what happened with Gary. If you're feeling up to it," he added.
"I see—" Tracey slowly nodded. "Man, I forgot you had been accepted by the Pokémon League Agency. I can't believe you're an agent now."
"Yeah, sometimes I don't believe it myself," he chuckled.
"Where's Pikachu? Is he at your mother's house," Tracey asked.
"Yeah, Pikachu only likes to tag along on the missions when there's something dangerous to do. I left him at my Mom's house to relax. I was going to pick him up later."
"Speaking of which, I heard from your mother you passed training with flying colors. You graduated at the top of your class with highest honors."
"Yep, that was me," Ash smiled modestly.
"How'd you do it?"
"Well," Ash paused. "When I got the letter telling me I had been accepted I was anything but eager. I heard so many horror stories about the training. I was really afraid about going."
"What changed your mind?" Tracey asked.
"I guess I got the right encouragement at the right time. I always tried my best and it worked out," Ash smiled pensively.
"Who gave you the advice?"
"What?" Ash snapped out of his own head. "Uh—you know, we're getting off subject," he said waving his hand nervously. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"
Tracey closed his eyes, thinking as hard as he could. "It all happened so fast. It was a normal day. I was finishing up some sketches and Gary was on the computer. Suddenly, the lights went out and a smoke bomb came through the window. The room was filling with thick black smoke; I couldn't see a thing. I was coughing and stumbling through the room when something hit me in the back of the head and I blacked out. The next thing I remember is waking up in this hospital bed."
"Anything else?"
"Nope, sorry," Tracey shook his head. "It's all a really big blur."
"Did you notice anything weird going on at the Lab lately?"
"Like what?" Tracey lobbied for more.
"Like mysterious letters in the mail or constant hang ups whenever the phone rang, something like that? Were any of the Pokémon or machines acting strange?"
"No, nothing like that," Tracey admitted.
Ash sighed. "Well, what were you guys working on?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your research—what was it about?"
"I don't know," Tracey confessed.
"How could you not know about his research? You worked in that lab with him for three years!"
"Well yeah, but Gary is really paranoid about his work. He always kept it secret and secure. The interns and I were never allowed to access his files."
"That's weird," Ash frowned. "That doesn't sound like Gary. Professor Oak was always open with his research. There was nothing secretive about his work."
"That's his prerogative," Tracey speculated. "I guess nowadays people are concerned with plagiarism and theft. I guess he was right."
"So, there's nothing you can give me that will even slightly hint at his research?"
"Well, one day Gary was staying up later than usual. He forgot to put some of his papers away and I happen to briefly glance at them. It was something about Psychic Pokémon and their powers."
"Well, I guess that's something. One more thing," he reached in his pocket and pulled out the little scrap of paper. He handed it to Tracey.
"Does this look familiar at all?"
Tracey scratched his head. "No, it doesn't."
"Oh well, it was a long shot," Ash shrugged and reached for it.
Tracey retracted it out of his grasp. "Hold on. I mean, this doesn't look familiar at all. I can't imagine what this would be for."
"So it's a stray scrap from a research paper from a long time ago, big deal. The place was really messed up. Maybe it got mixed in with all the other stuff."
"No," Tracey dismissed him. "I've been an assistant at that lab for a long time. I know every research paper, folder and document in that lab like clockwork. This isn't from the lab."
Ash jumped to his feet. "Really?" he cried, taking it back. Finally, a real piece of evidence. Ash scanned the numbers written on it.
"Any idea what these numbers mean?" Ash showed it to him again.
"You've got me there," Tracey admitted. "I don't think it'll be much help, though. It could be for anything: a telephone number, a computer code, an address—or directions to the nearest Pokémon Center! Maybe if you had the whole paper but that's just a scrap."
"Maybe," Ash mumbled pacing back and forth. He started intently at the numbers, trying to unearth a piece of memory.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, just something you said gave me an idea. You mentioned directions, right?"
"Yeah," Tracey confirmed.
"Well, in advanced training we had a field exercise about directions; it was part of our wilderness survival training. They rounded up all the agents individually and put us on a plane. We'd get dropped off at some random secluded area and using just our instincts and skills we had to find our way back to civilization."
"That sounds brutal," Tracey said clutching his throbbing head.
"Tell me about it," Ash groaned as if reliving it all over again. "Remind me later to tell you the time they dropped me off in the Safari Zone in the middle of Kangaskhan mating season. I almost didn't get out of there alive."
Tracey covered his mouth with his hands, trying everything in his power to refrain from losing composure. He could still hear his muffled laughs.
"Anyways—I learned all about getting my bearings, geography, maps, directions and coordinates." Ash held up the piece of paper and smiled. He walked to a small dresser and opened the top drawer. Ash grabbed a map and unrolled it out on a nearby table.
"You think those numbers are coordinates to a location?" Tracey asked as he struggled to get out of bed.
"Possibly," Ash told him. He looked at the map – a complete diagram of the Kanto Region. The whole map was outlined with grids with numbers on the top and sides for easy reference. Ash took the first set of numbers from the paper and placed his finger from his right hand on the appropriate grid number on the top. He took his other hand and placed it on the corresponding number on the right axis of the map. Ash slowly dragged his fingers across the lines till they met.
"Where is it?" Tracey asked.
"Cerulean City."
"Cerulean City? Isn't that where Mis—"
"Yes, it is!" Ash interrupted him. "I can't believe its Cerulean City!"
"Why are you getting all worked up? Did you guys get into a fight or something?"
"No," Ash slumped back onto his chair. He sighed deeply staring into the back of his eyelids. "It's just—she's been on my mind lately, that's all."
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Tracey laughed.
Ash shot him an angry glance. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"Nothing," Tracey chuckled, attempting to climb back onto his bed. "I guess there are things that never change."
"Look if you're going to act like this I'm going to leave," Ash blurted out, quickly gathering his things. "It's good to see that you're alright, Tracey. I'll visit you later."
"Hey, Ash?"
"Yeah?" Ash stopped in the threshold just as he was closing the door. He held it open.
"Tell her."
"Tell her what?" Ash obliviously asked.
"Tell her you've been thinking about her. It's a good thing."
Ash shook his head annoyed and shut the door. What was Tracey getting at anyways? He looked at his watch and pressed a small button. The small screen illuminated and beeped.
"What is it? Did you find something?" Paul asked from the watch.
"I talked to Tracey; he mentioned Gary's research has something to do with Psychic Pokémon."
"Aaannd—" Paul grew impatient.
"That's all. Gary kept his records pretty secret. There are no hard copies left."
"Damn it! Well, is there anything else? Any other leads you found?"
Ash stood silently.
"Well?" Paul snapped.
"No—uh, nothing else to report. I've got a few things to check on and I'll meet you back at the station."
"Fine. Over and out."
Ash sighed in relief, switched back his wristwatch and exited the hospital doors. Ash weaved his way through the parked cars and located his motorcycle. He hopped on the seat, revved the engine and drove away; leaving a trail of smoke folding behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED
"I fear I might break, and I fear I can't take it…" – Pressure, Paramore
