Chapter One

Hope Rekindled

My limousine was awaiting me outside the television studio. Stepping in, I relaxed into one of the leather chairs, turning the small card over in my fingers.

"Where to, sir?" my driver called, looking over his shoulder.

"It's on this card, underneath the name," I answered while handing the small piece of paper to him.

"Right you are, sir," he nodded, turning back to face the road. I sighed, relaxing further, idly wishing I had not neglected to install a miniature refrigerator in this vehicle. As we drove, I watched the people on the pavement. Most held a small device to their ears and spoke into it. Pokenavs, I thought. Others spoke happily with their companions while a considerably less amount of people were alone, checking through their bags to inspect their purchases of the day. All were so happy in one way or another. It highlighted my isolation, walled up inside my fortress. I shook my head; people were far less important than the prizes I had my eyes on.

We arrived at the wharf a short time later. I stepped out onto the wooden platform and scanned my surroundings for a possible residency. There were none.

It seems our friend lives in a houseboat, I concluded. "Driver!"

"Yes, sir?" the middle-aged man called back.

"What number does it say on the card?" There was the sound of fumbling around in a bag.

"Captain Jeffrey Patrick. Bay three. Ketchum City wharf," he quoted. I winced at the last part. I was fully aware of my location but I cannot stand the name of him. Deserved or not, his fame was a constant reminder of my failure. Shaking the scorn out of my mind, I strode toward a large number '3', painted on a dock not too far away. The boards tilted and dipped under the weight of my steps and water spilled over onto my shoes. I tried to keep my face straight, not wanting to offend my only lead.

At the end of the platform a large boat bobbed with the water. It was brightly coloured - almost a cream colour – and was larger than the average boat of its type. Clearly this man was one of the more respected captains in his field.

"Captain Patrick?" I called, not entirely sure if one can knock on a houseboat's door. The sound of a sliding door greeted my ears. The man that stepped out onto the deck was not like my expectations. He was tall, apparently muscular and had brown hair, covered by a cap.

"Aye? Who are ye?" he asked, wary of his visitor. I suppose he must not have gotten many. His rough face broke into a frown, trying to size me up.

"I am with the PN Network. We wish to do a follow-up story regarding your discoveries at Shamouti Island," I told him.

"Oh really? Fine, fine, come on in." He motioned for me to board the vessel as he walked back into the door he emerged from - another fifteen minutes of fame, how could he refuse? I followed with calculated slowness but without hesitation. The interior was much the same as the exterior. It was brightly coloured and simple; a table, surrounded by chairs, stood in the middle of the first room, giving the clear impression of the captain's dining room. On the right hand wall there was a countertop bordering the kitchen. Opposite to the door there was an arch-shaped gap in the wall. I did not bother to look much into the next room, instead turning my attention to the seaman now sitting at the table.

"May I first ask you some questions about it?" I inquired, seating myself opposite him.

"Sure, go ahead." I smiled kindly, knowing this was my chance.

"Thank you. So you ventured to the islands of fire, ice and lightning. In search of what?"

"Treasure." The reply was blunt, forcing me to rethink my tact.

"Did you find any?" I adjusted my tone to sound more curious than interrogative.

"Aye". He nodded, "Aye, we did."

"May I see it?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion, reading me. This man was smarter than I gave him credit for.

"No. No you can't." Fighting to keep my temper, I smiled again.

"Then may you please tell me what you found?"

"Crystal. Three glass balls. One blue, one yellow, one red."

"Oh my! What a find!" My attempt at being uninformed came off sarcastic. Thankfully, he didn't notice. "Did you happen to encounter any Pokemon? I had heard that those islands were home to bird Pokemon of legend."

"Nah, never saw those. Not that I care for Pokemon all that much."

"Oh yes…myself neither," I chuckled. "But for our viewers, do you have any idea where they may have disappeared to?"

"Not a clue. Maybe you should ask one of them locals?" I winced at his poor pronunciation.

"Perhaps, if you're feeling generous, you could take me there? I would like to have a look around myself."

"Aye, but it'll cost ye." I was prepared for this.

"How much?" I asked without hesitation.

"How much ye got?" The reply was laced with greed; it was disgusting.

"I can offer you ten thousand credits." The man's face lit up. Repulsive.

"Right! Lets set sail immediately!" he bellowed excitedly, jumping to his feet. Struggling to maintain my smile, I followed suit. Captain Patrick wandered up stairs concealed behind the wall opposite the door. Following, I caught glimpses of the blue sky, horizon and, finally, the controls of the boat.

"It'll take us most of the day to get there," he informed me, not turning to face me as he was too busy hastily activating the ship. The sooner he got the boat working, the sooner he got his money. Tch.

"Right. May I help myself to some tea?" I asked, looking for an excuse to rid myself of his company.

"Aye, sure. Y'know where the kitchen is?"

"Yes, I passed it before. Thank you." I travelled back down the stairs but turned right at the foot of them rather than left toward the kitchen. I found myself in what must have been the living room. A couch and a television set were the only giveaways. This room was much darker than the rest of the 'house'; it was coloured a dark green and seemed to swallow light, not reflect it as the other rooms had.

There was another doorway on the right hand wall, which led to an even darker room. My bemusement graced my face as I inspected the various rooms. It was beginning to feel more like a funhouse than an actual residency. Spying a credenza against the leftmost wall, I smirked to myself.

This is going to be easier than I first thought, I mused.

I dismissed the credenza for the moment and ventured into the next room. It was darker than the living room and its walls were black, making it even more of a contrast to the exterior of the ship than the dark green room from whence I had entered. Faint silhouettes of furniture could be observed through careful scrutiny of the room. The bed was in the middle of the room and lay in a mess. On either side of the bed there was a set of drawers. I wrinkled my nose at the thought of rifling through this vile being's belongings but pressed on. This had to be done.

I wrenched a drawer open and began searching its contents: a few pairs of socks and extremely worn out underwear. I feared that I would catch some terrible disease, extinct to the outside world but thriving in this man's home. Was he so paranoid as to hide these?

The more I searched, the more it appeared I would not find my goal. Each pile of revolting clothes I hoped would hide the rare gems I sought only revealed more piles of the same revolting garments. My monotonous search continued until every drawer in the bedroom had been emptied. I wanted to scream, to yell, to lash out; my dreams were so close and, once again, they had been dashed by someone not fit to clean my house!

"How's 'at tea doing?" I stood upright as though an electrical current had passed through my body. I had been so consumed in my quest I had lost all thought of my host.

"Very well, actually! Just attempting to find cups!" I quickly fabricated a believable story.

"I didn't hear the kettle boil?" he asked with genuine confusion. I cursed my luck; of all the people I was to need, it had to be the most paranoid observant lunatic on the seas.

"It's not done yet!" I called back, trying to mask the nervous tension threatening to break my voice.

"Aye, well hurry up, a'ight!"

"Yes, yes! I think I have them now!" I called, desperately pulling clothes off others in a last ditch effort to find the 'treasure'. Again, it was in vain. I resigned to defeat and traced my steps back to the kitchen, noticing, once more, the small cabinet. Making a mental note to investigate it at another juncture, I dismissed it again.

The tea was a rather simple affair. In a few short minutes it was ready and I brought it up to the captain on the deck.

"Took ye long enough!" he commented as he took the cup from my hands.

"Yes, unfamiliar kitchen. I'm sure you understand."

"Aye…"

"You know." My tone had taken on a bartering tone again. "If you show me this 'treasure' of yours, I will let you keep whatever I find."

"What's it to you?" He was suddenly hostile…or was it suspicious? Worried? Paranoid?

"I was just thinking when I was making the tea. It sounds like a most fascinating object."

"Sss," he hissed.

"Pardon?"

"Sss. Objects," he corrected. It took all my acting skills to feign surprise at this.

"Oh? How many are there?" It pained me to even pretend to be uninformed.

"Three," he said smugly. "There are three and together they're gonna fetch me a great price." He grinned at his dreams of money. Revolting.

"Now I absolutely must see them. May I?"

"Heh, no. You'll steal 'em for yourself!"

"Would I do something like that?" I exaggerated my offence at his statement, hoping to break his guard with jovial banter.