Chapter 7: Tunnel Vision

(Orion Fremont)

The door to the Pewter City Pokémon Center pushed open with a cheery jingle from its silver bell, and in rushed a burst of hot air followed by a miserably overheated boy. He was drenched in sweat and feeling utterly disgusting from the tips of his messy blond hair down to the marshy dampness in his brown boots.

Orion shook his head, letting the cool air caress him from all angles. His shoes really were in awful shape, and he kicked them against the door frame and stomped on the welcome mat until he was satisfied.

The woman at the front desk appeared to be struggling in vain to organize her mess. Keys, call tabs for healed Pokémon, receipts and signed forms littered the surface of her desk, and Orion paused a few feet away, not wanting to intrude. After a second or two the flustered woman looked up.

"Oh! My goodness, how long have you been standing there?"

Orion opened his mouth to reply, but she had sized him up at once and was now digging around for a key.

"You're new, I haven't seen you around. I'd remember you, all tall and good-looking," she said, fussing around behind the counter and pulling out a key with a Chansey on it. Orion felt his face flush uncomfortably at the flattery, and she smiled at him in a motherly way. "You have a Dex?"

"'Fraid not," he said. "I'll have to just fill out the forms."

She sighed and blew some hair out of her face. "Oh darn. I was hoping you'd have a Dex. Not your fault, not your fault." She looked at the deplorable mess and drummed her fingers on the counter. Orion waited patiently until she said, "I know, how about I just have you run along to your room, and you can fill out the paperwork later. All I need is your name and some form of I.D. for now." She poised over the keyboard, ready to type.

"Daniel Fremont," Orion said. "F-R-E-M-O-N-T."

He got the familiar pause, the double-take. "Fremont?" the receptionist asked, looking impressed. "Well, are you related to...? Well, you know. ... I'm so sorry, you must get that all the time!" she said, chastising herself.

Orion shook his head and lifted his hands. "Not a problem, it's no trouble. I'm Nathan Fremont's nephew through marriage... no blood ties, no glory. I don't really get to see my uncle." He smiled a wan smile and she nodded, pretending to still be impressed. He could tell her interest had faded. "Which room am I in?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

"Room 29, dearie," she said, finally handing him his key. "Enjoy your stay, and I'll just buzz you up when I finally have this situation dealt with." She motioned to her desk and made a face.

"No rush, ma'am," Orion said. "Thanks very much."

Once in his room, Orion sighed, slipped out of his pack and laid it down beside the bed. Then he sank to the floor and leaned back against the dresser, simply too tired to move. Ideally he would be taking off his boots, climbing into bed and passing out, but his body refused to let him get even that far.

He took this moment of immobility to look around his room. There was one bed, one dresser, and a door that lead to what he assumed was a shared bathroom. He wondered vaguely how that worked... he didn't really like the idea of his neighbor barging in on him mid-shower. The walls and furniture were a shade of light gray, neutral and unassuming, and there were no pictures up and no carpet or throw rugs. Orion decided he liked it at once.

There were a number of reasons he had chosen to come to Pewter. One was its relative anonymity as far as cities went. Pallet and Viridian were a little too small and intimate; Saffron, Fuchsia and Celadon were too sprawling, large and bustling. Lavender was a strange option and Cinnabar was too far away. Cerulean and Pewter had been his remaining choices, and Pewter was one he could reach without cutting through any major cities.

Also, there was the off-chance that Jason was here.

Orion had to admit, there was no reason for him to assume that he would even recognize his brother if he saw him again. They had been kids when they were taken to different parts of Kanto, and their correspondence had slowly tapered off until it stopped completely. Jason and their mother had moved since his most recent letter had been a return to sender. Orion assumed that they were in a different district of Saffron, but who knew? They could be anywhere in the world.

One thing Orion was banking on, though, was Jason's undying love of Pokémon. He had always known that his kid brother would be going on his Master journey at some point, and since he had turned twelve last December, this would be the ideal year to begin. The Expo and Initiative had taken place in Pallet this year, and Orion had been number-crunching possible dates in his head all month. Would Jason spend one day in Viridian City? Two? Three? What about a week? A month? How long would it take him to get through the forest? How long would he stay in Pewter? What had his starter been; would he have a significant advantage over the Pewter Gym? If so, he might already be in Mt. Moon, and Orion would kick himself nonstop for having missed his brother.

As it was, Orion could only hope that his brother was still in the area. Now the hard part would be finding him—subtly.

Orion yanked out his I.D., a decrepit and nasty old thing. The "O" in Orion was virtually all that remained of his first name, and even that was deformed. The "Fremont" had suffered a bit over the years too, but that part was much more legible. His holographic official Vermillion seal was still there, even though the laminated edge of the I.D. was peeling up dangerously.

This piece of plastic was Orion's best friend at the moment, besides the two Pokémon on his homemade trainer belt. It had gotten him through a lot over the years, and it was an unbelievable help now.

Finally Orion was able to pull himself tremulously up from the ground, kick his boots off, and collapse onto the bed. It was too hot in here, but getting back up to flick on the fan was simply not an option. His feet, at least, were reveling in the open air, making him feel momentarily cooler from the contrast. Orion barely had the energy to turn his face away from the pillow to avoid suffocation before he closed his eyes and dropped abruptly into an utterly dreamless sleep.


Orion filled out the promised paperwork when he woke up a groggy four hours later. The late afternoon sun had lost some of its power, but he had slept in his day clothes in a room with no air flow. He felt pretty damn awful.

First thing was first though. Now that he was officially signed into room 29, he took a few moments to detach the two Pokéballs from his complicated belt. The receptionist watched him with great interest, asking questions about how he'd made this part, or how that bit worked. Orion answered her questions politely and handed his Pokémon over to her. She examined them carefully.

"Smart of you, to label these. You wouldn't believe how many trainers come in here asking if we've seen a misplaced Pokéball… as if they don't know just how many of those go missing a day! Shame…" She slipped the balls into little pockets on what looked like a conveyor belt behind her and fastened each one in snug. Then she pressed an intriguing looking red button the size of a golf ball—something right out of a sci-fi flick, Orion thought—and the Pokéballs zipped off behind a red curtain into the back of the Center. Orion knew they'd be waiting for him in a few hours.

Once outside the Center, Orion thought about how this day would unfold. He wasn't sure where to start looking for Jason, but he surmised that he could rule out the museum, libraries, and any sort of nice restaurant. Still, Pewter was enormous, and there was a chance Jason wasn't even here yet. Asking the albeit very kind receptionist was out of the question. Jason was not yet sixteen, and therefore was completely protected from any inquiries as to his whereabouts. It made Orion's job a little harder, but he was infinitely glad that Jason's identity would be safe for a few more years.

Lost in thought, Orion didn't realize he was blocking the door to the Pokémon Center. He heard a slight cough from behind him and turned around at once, abashed. A girl with very straight black hair was regarding him with muted interest from where she stood about halfway out the door. When Orion took many steps back she emerged completely.

Orion coughed. "Sorry," he said.

The girl shook her head. "It's alright." She moved off around him and headed over to a nearby bench where she unzipped a gray traveling bag. Orion rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit more embarrassed than the situation merited.

The girl was wearing some sort of dark green turtleneck, odd for the summer. Orion would have quickly expired wearing something like that. He was about to shuffle away when she removed a Pokéball from a side pocket of her pack.

Out of the blue, he asked, "So, you're a Pokémon trainer?"

At first the girl didn't register that she was being spoken to. When no one else answered him though, she glanced up in his direction, a small confused frown on her face.

"... Yes."

"Ah," Orion said, not expecting so simple a response. Normally even making eye contact with another trainer was enough to send them into a rabid frenzy of battle-lust. Orion cleared his throat. "What's your top?"

This was trainer lingo for her strongest Pokémon, and Orion was relieved that she seemed to recognize this phrase. He had once asked this to a girl who had taken great offense, as she thought Orion had meant her shirt, which of course implied that he had been staring at her chest. The resultant misunderstanding had been one of epic proportions.

"Sixteen," she replied. Then, as if it was a nicety she barely managed to remember, "and yours?"

"Fourteen," he said, wondering already if he could beat her. There was a chance, but if she had some sort of elemental he'd probably lose. Losing was not something that bothered Orion at all, but he did feel a little bad for his team's morale when it happened.

"Care for a quick battle?" he asked, not sure why he was still asking these questions. She seemed busy and uninterested, and he was pretty much just being a nuisance now.

The girl merely seemed even more confused, though. She twisted her long hair around her hand and threw it over her shoulder, then said, "Your Pokémon are with the receptionist."

Before thinking, Orion asked, "Oh yeah. Wait, how did you know that?"

There was a little pause, and Orion realized his oversight right as she answered.

"... I was in line behind you when you dropped them off."

He could feel his ears heating up. "Ah. Ah hah. I see. Well, that's a relief. Was worried you might be a stalker, what with the way you keep talking to me." It was a desperate stab at humor, and he was very relieved to see a small, amused smile come to her face.

"Well, I'm rooming here, obviously," the girl said. "So, when you get your team back... we'll take a rain-check until then."

"Yeah, okay," Orion said, feeling a little light-headed from how many idiot vibes he was producing. The girl's smile became slightly more amused, laced with perhaps a tiny bit of friendly pity, and she headed off into Pewter with her gray pack.

"Wow," Orion muttered to himself, hardly able to believe how much of a social leper he was. He felt vaguely sorry that he was roaming around and ruining Daniel Fremont's reputation with his ineptitude.


Orion had something close to an anxiety attack that evening in front of the Pewter City Gym.

It had all started off rather innocently. He was loitering around the Gym, watching youngsters hover around, only a few brave enough to challenge the Leader within. He inquired after Jason from a few passerby, but no one could help him out when all he had to offer was "He's blond... I think he's still blond."

His plan, admittedly, wasn't wonderful.

Nevertheless, everything had been pretty alright until he overheard a conversation between two young trainers who were eating slices of apple pie on thin paper plates nearby.

"I hear this Gym is cursed. Everyone who runs it seems to die."

"Dude, everyone dies eventually."

"No no! I mean like, mysterious deaths. The Leader after Brock died in a really weird accident, or something, no one knows. And then Brock took over again, and..."

The other kid cut him off. "Ando Harrison? Yeah, I heard about that from my mom... but she said he got sick."

"Uh-uh," the conspiracy-theorist continued. "But your mom didn't tell you about how weird everything was here before Ando died. Things were all suspicious and stuff, for a long time." Orion had to cover a snort at that less-than-descriptive explanation. "I think it wasn't an accident."

"No shit, it was an illness. That's what I just said."

The anxiety attack didn't really feel like an anxiety attack at first. Orion just thought he was feeling a little chill from the encroaching evening, accompanied by a slight wave of heat from his own lingering exhaustion. When cold sweat broke out across his brow he worried for a second that he was coming down with a cold.

"I dunno, it's just weird that a Gym Leader starts acting all strange and then a few months later he's dead, and his wife too. It's like they knew or something."

"Yeah well, maybe they were psychic and they could tell they were gonna get sick."

"Idiot, psychics aren't real!"

Orion smiled again. Clearly, detailed conspiracy theories were given fact, but talk of psychic powers was just plain loony.

"Whatever, can we not talk about dead Gym Leaders anymore?"

It was a cute enough conversation, which made Orion wonder why he suddenly had tunnel vision and a buzzing in his ears. Unbidden, the image of his father's face rose in his mind.

Nathan Fremont was a man who always looked slightly edgy. It was subtle some days, when you could only tell from the intensity in his eyes and his set jaw. He clenched and unclenched his fists a lot and spoke in short, quick barks. He wasn't a pleasant guy on those days, but he could be dealt with.

Other days it was another story. Fremont had a very active nerve above his left eyebrow that ran down to the side of his nose, and it twitched in silent fury whenever his eldest son displayed that he was a goddamn pansy, can't believe you actually think you'll be a trainer, what the hell is wrong with you?

Orion was pretty good at zenning the insults and criticism in one ear and out the other. What he had not been able to ignore were the long business trips and even odder behavior that accompanied them.

At first it had been great. His dad would head off to Fuchsia or Lavender with only a "Don't mess up the house and don't let anyone in the Gym," which Orion would gladly obey. He'd have the house to himself and could cook something other than steak and potatoes, watch whatever he wanted on TV, and even try to figure out his dad's internet pass code, which of course he could never crack. Life was good while his dad was away on business.

Orion sat down and leaned against the slabs of granite behind him, which felt shockingly chilled on his feverish skin. He was made up of layers of hot and cold. Air still rushed into his lungs, but it felt like it wasn't doing anything for him.

By now he realized what was happening to him, and felt a flush of heat travel up his face and across his scalp. It was humiliating—even though he knew no one was watching, it felt like he was utterly exposed and obvious. Orion had had these panic attacks before, and it was a sad irony that they tended to pop up when he was alone in the house for too long. He didn't like his father's company, but it seemed he didn't deal well with solitude, either. The attacks seemed to be triggered whenever he tried—and failed—to find his mother's new address online at the Vermillion Pokémon Center, or tucked away in his father's files. He had the niggling suspicion that his father had started intercepting Orion's letters from them, and knew their location but was keeping it to himself. Then again, it was possible they had cut ties with Nathan Fremont as a safety precaution—the possibilities were endless, and chasing them around and around in his head just reminded him of how trapped he was—and voila, there was the recipe for one sweaty-palmed, dizzying panic attack.

It didn't help that his father's behavior had become progressively stranger. He was Vermillion's substitute Gym Leader, after all, a position that was temporary for now but could very well become permanent if Vincent Warren kept being such an absolute flake. It was no secret that Orion's father resented Warren immensely for being such a slacker, and during the nights when he was more fired up than usual Orion was privy to his father's tirades. Nathan Fremont slammed doors and threw kitchen appliances and went on and on about what a moron the current Leader was. Sorry excuse for a man. Why Surge left him in charge I'll never know, shit, idiots, both of them, what are you looking at? It was difficult to get his dad's mind off of his less-than-satisfactory position as temp Gym Leader whenever Warren couldn't be bothered to show up to work. The little red alarm bells had started going off in Orion's head when his father began to neglect the very job he had always craved with every fiber of his being.

Orion stopped his train of thought with great, great difficulty, not wanting to relive any of the past month. He took a deep breath and let it out. He focused his gaze on a tree in the distance, concentrating on how still and unmoving it was. It helped whenever his nerves got the better of him, which was more often these days. Sometime during his deep-breathing session the kids had moved off. It was getting dark and Jason had not come to the Pewter Gym today.

Pulling himself to his feet, Orion glanced over at the doors of the Gym. On impulse, he placed his hand gently against the building and spent a moment in silence to honor Ando Harrison and his wife. Whatever had happened, he could commiserate with the complicated life of a Gym Leader. It seemed that no matter who you were, if you were associated with these places, nothing was ever easy.


Orion slept fitfully that night and was exhausted when he woke up surprisingly late the next day. He was normally a morning person, but something seemed to have drained him of his energy.

He spent the day inquiring after Jason here and there, but his heart wasn't quite in it. He wanted to find his brother, for sure, but he couldn't help being reminded of their difficult family situation. It had been thrown into sharp relief by the conversation he had overheard outside Pewter Gym. No one could say that Orion's life was simple, or even safe anymore. If Jason had a simple, safe life, Orion was seriously starting to wonder if he should just leave him to it.

Orion turned to ask someone passing behind him about Jason, just out of habit, but stopped mid-sentence when he realized who it was.

"Oh, hey."

The black-haired girl seemed shocked to see him again, and glanced around her as if dispelling the lingering doubt that he was speaking to someone else. "... Hi," she said at last, not unpleasantly, but with perhaps a little reservation. Orion saw that her boots were caked with mud, and he wondered if she had been out training on Route 3, the path to Mt. Moon.

"Been training?"

"Yeah." There was an awkward pause and Orion was ready to walk away. The girl shifted a little though, and gave him a bit more to work with. "Were you?"

"Naw," he said, not sure if this was a good sign or just lengthening an already dead conversation. "Just milling around town."

"Did you get your team back?"

Orion was pleasantly surprised that she had remembered. "Yep, they're all good again. Still up for that battle?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, reaching for the Pokéball in her bag. She had an inscrutable look on her face.

Moments later they were across from each other behind the Center. Orion had been ready to let her go first, but she frowned at him in confusion until he remembered that challengers generally had the first move. He was back to awkward grins as he sent out Meowth.

The girl seemed a little troubled by this choice, and a second later Orion knew why. From her Pokéball materialized a misty, dark shape, and his eyes contracted and dilated as if in sudden shadow. Orion raised his eyebrows and he and the girl met each other's eyes.

"Guess I should have asked," she said. "Do you have any elementals?"

"Um... nope, just Normals," Orion responded, fascinated by the Gastly and the way it seemed to fade in and out of his vision.

"... All of them are Normal types?"

"Yup. Well, 'all' two of them."

"... Ah," she said, and recalled her Gastly. Orion frowned and put his hands up.

"No, it's okay, really. I challenged you, you don't have to stop."

She smiled at him, amused yet again, and said, "I doubt this match would be much fun for either of us."

Now it was Orion's turn to ask questions. "So, you have all Ghosts?"

"Only Ghosts," she affirmed. "'All' one of them."

"That's pretty cool," Orion said. "Are you from the Lavender area?"

"No," she responded with blunt finality, and Orion made an immediate mental note to stop asking questions.

Two seconds later he asked, "What's your name?" He mentally smacked himself. "I mean, you don't have to, uh, tell me. I know it's not smart to give out your name to just, any random guy." Heck, he was going under the name Daniel right now, after all.

She regarded him for a little while more, sizing him up. Orion noticed that she had very, very dark eyes, almost black, if that was possible. Finally she smiled slightly and shook her head. "No, it's not a big deal. I'm Zahlia."

"Daniel," he said, extending his hand to shake on impulse. She took it and shook it with a surprisingly firm grip. "Well, thanks for the almost-battle. I'm sure Meowth enjoyed coming out for a while."

Zahlia nodded. "Not often you come across a Normal-type trainer." She paused for a moment, then added, "Unless you're not?"

Orion shook his head. "No, I am. Or, I think I'll stick with them, anyway."

"Unique," Zahlia said, as they headed into the Center, gravitating towards the café.

"Not really," Orion insisted, shrugging. "Now, Gastlies, those are cool."

They grabbed cups of coffee and sat together for a short while, discussing their various training experiences. Orion had to feel somewhat encouraged in spite of the failed battle. It helped that he was very interested in the care of all types of Pokémon, a trait his father had always found shameful. Zahlia certainly knew her stuff. To her credit she was either genuinely interested in Meowth and Rattata, or did a very good job pretending.

A short while later Orion led Zahila back to her room (a gesture that seemed to confuse her) and they stood awkwardly outside her door for a few moments. Finally, Orion unstuck his throat, and, curling his fingers into his pale blonde hair, asked, "So… you're going to Mt. Moon after this?"

Zahlia, for some unknown reason, was staring at her closed door as if somehow worried by it. "I… yeah, yes, I am. I was thinking of leaving as soon as tomorrow evening."

Orion winced. The unspoken message was clear: I am out of here; don't try to make friends. Apparently blocking a doorway and an almost-battle-turned-coffee talk did not a friendship make. "Okay," he said, hitching a smile onto his face and taking a step back. "Nice to've met you, Zahlia."

Orion was going to write this off as a failure and head to his own room when she suddenly asked, "Do you want to grab lunch tomorrow before I go, or something?"

"Sure!" Orion said, almost before she was done speaking. Fear me, he thought, for I am clearly starved for company. "I'm, not busy or anything," he tacked on, trying to make himself look less like a loser. She had that amused smile again though, which he figured was not a bad thing. "I'll uh, see you then."

"Yeah," Zahlia said, retreating into her room. "See you then."


Orion was awake the next morning by seven a.m. This was more like it, and he was glad he was getting his normal sleep pattern back. He let out Rattata and Meowth to roam about and ignore one another in his room and left to get them some PokéChow. On impulse he bought extra for Zahlia's Pokémon, too.

Orion passed the time writing down lazy little poems in a beaten up notebook, then doodled a comic recounting the way Meowth had recently charged down her own reflection in a mirror. Meowth was quite proud and liked to think she was elegant, so whenever Orion caught her doing something clumsy like this she refused to look at him for a while. Though he was sure Meowth couldn't read human language, he couldn't shake the feeling that his Pokémon did know that she was featured in the notebook sometimes. She showed her disapproval by gnawing on his sketches, which contributed to their dilapidated state.

Closer to lunch, Orion headed down to Zahlia's door, but found he did not have to knock. It opened almost in his face, and he took a few stumbling steps back to avoid it. Zahlia looked almost frightened for a split second, but her expression soon morphed into simple shock. The two of them shared an almost comical moment of silence.

"Oh," Zahlia said. "Oh. Hi. Sorry." After a moment's consideration, she added, "Did you just wake up?"

Orion recovered and grinned. "Naw, I've been up since seven. Oh, has your Pokémon eaten yet? I've got extra PokéChow and..." At the renewed look of amusement on Zahlia's face, Orion trailed off. "... Aaand your Pokémon is Ghost-type. Wow... should have picked up on that."

Zahlia was actually smiling, and looked like she was struggling not to laugh. "I appreciate the gesture. Well... Gastly doesn't need to eat, but I do."


The morning wasn't exactly going well.

So far, Orion had spilled coffee all over himself, tripped Zahlia twice, and completely botched up four different questions or comments, warping even the most innocent sentence into something that sounded terribly offensive. Orion would never understand the notorious bad luck he had when interacting with girls.

Miraculously, Zahlia hadn't slapped him yet. She'd looked witheringly away from the table in something akin to embarrassment a few times when he stumbled over his sentences to the waiter (who had given Zahlia a look that said, Does your friend have special needs?) but other than that she just seemed alternately amused and distracted.

Orion didn't really think it was his place to ask, but he'd never been good about knowing his place, so he blundered on. "Is something bothering you? You haven't eaten much."

Zahlia smiled the small, half-hearted smile that was rapidly becoming familiar to him. "No, I'm okay. I just found something unwelcome in my room this morning."

The second it was out of her mouth Zahlia looked like she wanted nothing more than to take it back. Her jaw tightened and her narrow eyes widened slightly—only a hair's width, barely noticeable. She immediately set herself upon her food, and Orion contemplated whether he should ask or let it drop. The decision was taken out of his hands when the waiter returned with the check.

Half an hour later they headed back to the Pokémon Center, Orion feeling pleasantly full on tomato bisque and pastrami on rye, and Zahlia looking strange and preoccupied again. Orion couldn't quite place it; he felt like he knew this girl, like they'd met somewhere before, as much of a cliché as it was.

"So, ah," Orion began, definitely noticing the way Zahlia flinched slightly. He paused for a moment, a little worried, before cautiously continuing. "You're going out to Mt. Moon soon?"

"Well," Zahlia said, and he might have been imagining it, but she sounded a little relieved. "I might actually wait a bit longer."

"Oh!" Orion said, smiling. "Well, that's cool. I mean, Mt. Moon's not going anywhere."

Zahlia offered him another slight smile and said, "Suppose not, hmm?"

There was a companionable little pause, and Orion felt pretty confident that they were at least on the path to some kind of friendly acquaintanceship.

"Don't suppose I can coerce you into doing something again with me sometime?"

Zahlia was doing something very odd to her door while he said this, and Orion's smile downshifted. She didn't seem to have heard him; she was too busy turning the knob of her door and very, very slowly easing it open.

"Is... something wrong?"

"What?" Zahlia asked, turning toward him. "No, nothing's wrong. Sorry, if I'm acting weird," she added, shaking her head and focusing harder on social interaction. "What did you say?"

"Just... wondering if you wanted to hang out again sometime."

"Ah," she said, turning back to her door and pushing it open with more force, as if to prove that she could. She glanced into her room, then turned back to him while stepping backwards into it. "Sure. I'd like that."

Orion was so completely confused. He actually couldn't remember the last time he had been this confused. Her words said one thing but her actions screamed something entirely different. He wondered if this was why he had so much trouble with girls. "Alright," he said, and offered as one last extension of help, "If anything's, well, bugging you, and I can help—"

Zahlia looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Wow," she said, and Orion instantly felt incredibly awkward. "Thanks, but... I'm good. Really. You're very nice for someone I just met."

"Yeah, well," he said, digging his fingers into a tense spot in his shoulder just to have something to do. This was usually how he scared away new friends. He sort of did give off the "helpful to the point of creepy" vibe at times, though in this case he was starting to get legitimately concerned for this strange girl and her even stranger behavior. "Y'know," he finished lamely.

"See you later, Daniel." He must have had a blank look on his face for a second or two, because he didn't immediately register that as his current alias. Then recognition came to his face and he nodded.

"Yeah, you too."

Zahlia regarded him for a moment with something like friendly interest. A second later she slid into her room and closed the door in his face.

Still, he would look at this as progress.