Chapter 3 – Inside the Lab
The Laboratory was quiet.
For the lower classes, the working day had started at half past five, but an academic's working day didn't start until nine. And with their working day finishing at four o'clock, they would be comfortable in their home by the time the rest of the working world were allowed to leave.
Ross sat quietly in a waiting area. Alone with his thoughts. He had seen such carnage before. Usually it was people – humans – that he saw butchered. Sometimes it was via the uncensored broadcasts showing the victims of terrorism. A complex web of surveillance equipment meant that most deaths and injuries were recorded in high-definition – allowing the public to witness the tragedy up close.
But, over time, Ross had become desensitized to these broadcasts. The moments that would never truly die were those which he had witnessed first hand. The bodies he'd found in his apartment. His mother's rapid descent into the black void of death. A few faint screams he had heard one night from below his apartment block – later broadcasts had confirmed a girl had been savaged by monsters. And now this: The annihilation of some fifteen monsters. The blood, panicked squeaks all barely audible over the rapid fire of Professor Woods and his team's gunfire.
"I'll be with you in a moment," the professor said.
He was darting around various computer terminals, occasionally stopping to survey a graph and mutter some displeasure, before returning to organising his work area.
Ross felt that this was a different man from the one who had callously blown tiny, furry – albeit dangerous – creatures to pieces. Without his team he seemed less like the hardened soldier he'd appeared to be, and more like a real professor. The intelligence in his eyes sparkled even brighter now that he was out of his black combat gear and in the far more appropriate lab coat.
Ross took in his surroundings. Everywhere he looked was white. Bright halogen lights set a soft white glow upon the scene. Sheets of glass separated each roomed area, and only the occasional flash of silver – on buttons or door panels – interrupted the sea of sterile white walls, bookcases and computer terminals.
Finally the professor looked up, aiming a kind smile at Ross.
"Sorry," the man said. "I have a lot of projects running just now. Biochemical Research," he said abruptly. "Fascinating stuff."
Ross – having only a rudimentary education had never heard the word 'biochemical' in his life, but nodded and smiled all the same. He glanced upwards at the clock, thinking about the consequences in store for him, now that he'd failed to show up for work.
As though reading his mind, the Professor reassured him. "Don't worry about your work. I have a bit of influence in the government – and have straightened things out with them. I've told them that you'll be delayed by one week."
"A week!" Ross said, alarmed.
"It's the least I can do after what you've been through."
"But we ship out tomorrow. If I'm not there then I'll miss three months," Ross explained.
"Yes, that's what they said. However they said that it wasn't a problem."
Ross couldn't believe it. He was now a shirker. Someone who evaded work. He'd spent his life despising those lucky few who managed to wrangle their way – even for a short time – out of labour assignment. And now he was one of them.
The government didn't just let people shirk for nothing. There was a strict regime in place. One missing worker could topple an entire project. The work didn't disappear. It had to be spread across the workforce. His co-workers would be cursing his name – if they'd ever bothered to learn it. Whatever influence the professor did have must be substantial for him to arrange this.
"What happens now?" Ross asked.
"Now?" the Professor asked. In just a few seconds his attention had been diverted to the pokéball.
After the rescue, when Ross had come to, the Professor had immediately taken his backpack and placed it inside a large plastic pouch and zip sealed it. He'd given it to one of the black-clad men for "Processing".
Ross had no idea where his backpack had gone, but he was sure that what lay in front of him was the pokéball. His pokéball.
"Part of my private collection," the professor said, nodding at the silent sphere.
"Is it the-"
"Yes the one you received. Stolen from me and sent to you. I wonder why," he said very quickly.
A few seconds passed in silence.
"It seems we'll never know," the professor finally said, however Ross caught a glint in his eye that seemed to indicate that he had not let the matter drop - merely put it to one side.
"Can I ask a question?" Ross asked.
"Of course," the professor said.
"What's inside it?"
The professor paused, studying Ross intently for a moment, before finally replying. "I don't know."
This confused Ross, but the professor explained.
"You see these kinds of artefacts are very valuable. This ball was found fifty years ago and in that time has changed hands five times through auction."
"Wouldn't the monster be dead by now?"
"No, the pokéball is a sophisticated means of suspended animation. The monster leaves the ball exactly as it entered. Most balls eventually lose their power, but this particular type sets it apart in that it has a nuclear power source with a four-hundred and thirty year half-life. Meaning it will function long after we are all dead. So you see fifty years is a drop in the ocean to it. In the fifty years since its discovery, not one person has opened it for fear of decreasing its value."
"It's value?" Ross asked puzzled.
"There are several things we can tell from looking at a pokéball. For this one, we can tell that there is something inside - and that it is a monster. But what kind of monster is what affects the value. And that is why we cannot open it. If I were to open it right now, I could find myself with a legendary monster like a gyarados or a dragonite in my possession, but it is also possible that I would have something as mundane as a wurmple or even a ratatta," he said. "One of the monsters which accosted you a few hours ago," he added unnecessarily.
"And then it would be worth nothing?"
"No, not nothing," the Professor explained. "It is still a poke ball, and a Premier Ball to boot – an item of great historical significance. But its value would fall by at least ninety percent. You see it isn't just a pokéball. It is a possibility, as well. And as soon as we open the ball, the possibility vanishes."
"But don't you wonder?"
"Every single day," the professor said with a sigh.
"What if you opened it, and kept it secret," Ross asked.
"Haha," the professor said, and for a moment, a shade of the soldier returned to him. "If it were that easy, I would have done it long ago. No. While it's so far impossible to see the contents of a pokéball, we can still see superficial data such as its access timestamp."
They stood in silence once more. Both of them staring at the pokéball, seemingly contemplating the great potential it held. Finally the professor continued.
"One of my many projects," he said, "is spent designing and operating sophisticated scanners, trying to probe further into the data. Looking for trace signatures which can give hints as to the contents."
Ross was completely captivated by the endless stream of information the Professor was releasing. He had spent his life with only an ancient children's book to tell him anything about the world he dreamed of, and now here was a man who seemed to spend his every waking hour surrounded by monsters and monster-related items.
"Ross, you seem to have a keen interest in all of this, am I right?" the Professor asked.
Ross could only nod in reply.
"How would you like to stay here for the week, assist me with my research?"
Ross stared at him.
"Are you okay?" the Professor asked.
"Yes! Sorry. Yes I'm fine. And yes I'd love to stay and help," Ross could hardly contain himself. Here he was. A fisherman a few hours ago and now he was a lab assistant. "Do you think we'll see monsters?" Ross asked.
"Most definitely," the professor said.
Before he could continue any further, a set of double doors at the far end of the room opened and another two people entered. One was a young man who seemed no older than Ross. He wore a superior scowl on his face, and looked if anything like a younger version of Professor Woods. The angular features and sparkling blue eyes confirmed – as far as Ross was concerned – that they were related. However he did not wear a lab coat, nor did he possess that elusive hint of a darker, stronger side that made the professor so enigmatic.
The other person was a young woman. She had dazzling red hair which was tied neat and high above her pale and pretty face. She wore glasses with delicate almost invisible frames and carried herself with precision and confidence.
"Ah," the professor said walking towards them with a smile on his face. "Ross, come, let me introduce you to my assistant," he added, indicating the pretty red-head. "And of course my son," he concluded, indicating the boy and confirming Ross' suspicions.
The professor's son looked in Ross direction, but his gaze was aimed upwards, as though he didn't much want to look at the newcomer, let alone talk to him.
"Another stray, father?" the boy said. "Do we have time to entertain these…" he struggled to find a word to describe Ross and eventually settled on "people, with out current workload?"
"Oh come, come, Eton. There's no need to be like that," the Professor said, sternly. Something passed between the two. The way the professor spoke was almost threatening, and while fear did not register on Eton's face, he allayed his unfriendly manner and offered Ross a curt handshake.
"Jade," the professor continued, now speaking to the red-headed assistant. "Would you like to show Ross around the lab?"
Ross interpreted this as something other than a request.
"Of course, Professor," said Jade. "Come with me," she instructed.
She led Ross through a set of white double doors into a white hallway. Once out of the professor's company, her shoulders relaxed and she let out a deep sigh.
The Laboratory was huge. Ross had considered the expansive white labs to be more than excessive, but this was only the ground floor in a five-storey building.
The next floor up was the Electronic Storage Area – a method of storing monsters using similar means to a pokéball. Ross was awed when Jade informed him that over 1 million monsters were currently stored. She led him around the huge computer systems, each of them alive with the hum of industry. He could barely believe that he was literally surrounded by monsters, yet could see none of them. It should have been infuriating, and yet he couldn't find feelings of anger, when after nineteen years of dreaming, he finally had taken his first steps into the world of monsters.
The next floor was again dedicated to monster storage; however these creatures were not stored electronically, but within metal cells where they could be observed as part of the professor's experiments. Again Ross felt a pang of disappointment – the cells were completely enclosed and he was unable to actually see any of the monsters. Jade explained that most of the creatures were very violent and became even more so when faced with humans.
They swiftly moved onto the next floor which served as a kind of old-world museum, where old-world artefacts were kept inside glass cases. Jade and Ross spent a much longer on this floor as she explained the origin behind the exhibits including a Cinnabar Island Gym badge – a relic even in the later part of the old-days; a Macho Brace – a piece of monster training equipment; and a faded scrap of paper bearing the word "RARE" – the wrapper of a candy treat sometimes fed to monsters. Ross could have stayed on this floor for days; drinking in the history - the feel of the world he loved, but Jade was a strict tour guide and after she had shown him what she considered to be the main attractions, she led him upwards still to the next floor.
The elevator seemed to take longer as it rose to the fifth and final floor and Ross was convinced that he was about to be shown something truly impressive. So his heart sank when he was shown a simple hallway.
"This is a bit of an anticlimax," Jade explained, as she led him out onto the marble floor and into the hallway richly decorated with mahogany panels and gold-framed artworks. "This is where we live."
"All of you?" Ross said - finding it difficult to believe that either of the three - the professor with his commanding attitude, Eton with his volatile personality, or Jade with her ice-cold manner - would allow such an arrangement.
"Yes," Jade replied with a sigh. "The professor insists that we not leave the building while certain experiments are running. We have our own quarters for such times. It is very tedious. We can sometimes be trapped here for anything up to two weeks."
Privately Ross thought that two weeks in Professor Woods' Lab sounded like a holiday compared to three months sharing a small cabin on a stinking ship with eleven other people. Something that up until a few hours ago, he had been facing without any strong reservations. In fact, now that he had seen it in detail, he was more sure than ever that the laboratory represented a much better life.
She led him down the hallway passing identical dark wood doors on both sides - each of them inlayed with numbers from one to eight.
"What about the other guys?" Ross asked. "The people who helped save me last night?"
"Ha!" Jade let out. "His Response Unit come only when needed. Silly boys playing soldier. The Professor thinks he's above the law, just because he can afford to pay beefed up brutes to operate weapons."
Ross sank into himself, feeling every muscle seize up. He widened his eyes, trying to alert Jade to the danger of her words and how they could incriminate the Professor, and even herself. The government had surveillance equipment in every building within the city: hidden cameras which monitored for terrorist activity. At the very least the Professor would be required to have listening posts in his laboratory.
Jade smirked at his panic. "Don't worry Ross. Another of the Professor's little perks is that his lab is - shall we say off-the-grid. No cameras, no microphones."
"Is that- I mean- what about terrorists?" Ross finally managed to ask.
She smiled. "I've been here so long, I sometimes forget what it's like out there. What the government tells you people."
Ross wasn't sure what to say. Jade held his gaze. Her eyes were blue like the professor's, but a faded, softer blue. While the professor's had sparkled with the intelligence befitting his profession, hers seemed to glisten with sadness. As though she had been holding back tears for a very long time.
"Ross," she said. "You will soon find the this laboratory is not as free and noble a place as it seems. This is a place of vile experiments, archaic practices and black morals. This is your room," she said, opening the dark wood door and revealing an elegantly decorated bedroom. "Though you will soon find it is something more of a prison."
