Chapter Twenty-Seven: Broken Promises

Through the whole afternoon, Sam trained his pokemon in the warehouse, familiarizing himself with Coalfoot and her rapid, fiery attacks, and studying every recording of Chainsaw's battles he could find. Within an hour of digging through the records, he found an abrupt and peculiar change in the scizor's fighting abilities. One match, it moved with the speed and power of an average member of its species, and within a week, its speed and power had transformed into the unstoppable pummeling machine Sam faced several days ago.

His interest piqued, Sam took out his cell phone and called his lawyer. "Hey Mr. Ducall," he said once they connected, "I have an important question. Have you heard of any way to suddenly make pokemon stronger and faster?"

"Nothing comes to mind. Why, were you hoping to find something like that?"

"Well, I noticed that Chainsaw got an upgrade about a year ago. There's clearly something going on."

"A year ago? Well, if anything like that was around that long ago, you'd think it would go mainstream by now." The lawyer sighed. "I'll look into it, but I won't promise anything."

"Thanks."

"Just remember this is going to cost-"

Sam hung up and tucked the phone in his pocket. Then he had another idea and dialed Brandon's number. After four rings, he picked up.

"Hello Sam," he said. Sam heard hesitance in his voice.

"I've got an important question for you Brandon. Do you have a moment?"

Brandon whispered into the phone, "Does this have to do with you-know-what?"

"It does. Now, how long has mega evolution been studied?"

"Mega evolution? Well, records go back centuries."

"And has anything happened with it, say, a year ago?"

"Nuh-uh. There hasn't been any headway for decades."

"Oh. Hmm, what about anything else that radically enhances a pokemon's power?"

"Wait, you're not seriously considering using something like that, are you?"

Sam gripped the phone tighter. "No, not at all, I'm not like those bastards. I'm up against someone using something, and I don't know what."

"Are there any physical differences?"

"Nope, none that I can see."

"Then it's not mega evolution." Brandon hummed into the phone and said, "I think I have an idea."

"Really?"

"There's been research into another rare form of energy over the last twenty years, and it really took off about a year ago. Dad's studying it right now, but he hasn't told me anything about it… says it's Sinex stuff."

Sam glanced at the clock. He had ten minutes to get to Deltoro's ring before his match starts. "I gotta run. Thanks for the info!"

Sam hung up before Brandon could say anything, then he gathered up his pokemon and sprinted for the casino. With a minute to spare, he raced down the stairs to the locker room and took deep breaths until his legs stopped shaking. Before he could grab himself a glass of water, the announcer called him out onto the arena. The red-cloaked woman was waiting.

"I didn't think you'd show up."

"And miss a chance to beat you? No way."

"Cute. You still think you have a chance." She looked up at the ref and said, "Same as last time?"

"Yep," he called back.

"Alright then, let's get the show on the road!" She threw her pokeball forward, and Chainsaw raced to the center of the arena. Sam answered by calling out Coalfoot. The broad, muscular rapidash kicked its hooves into the air and flung sparks into the kinetic barrier ceiling.

The referee glanced back at the crowd before shouting "Begin!"

"Overheat!" Sam roared. In an instant, a maelstrom of fire engulfed the arena, making the kinetic barrier dome crackle and fizzle as flames raced across its surface. Inside, the fires danced and swirled, raging for a full minute before dying out. Coalfoot stood next to the barrier, panting, the flames of her mane flickering weakly. Chainsaw stood at the other end, its claws covering its eyes. Wisps of steam floated from its metallic armor.

"Now, use flame wheel!"

"Brick break!"

Coalfoot raced forward, wreathed in fire, but Chainsaw's chop parted the flames and slammed Coolfoot's head into the ground. As the rapidash tried to regain her footing, the scizor kicked her in the ribs, knocking her across the arena. Sam clenched his teeth and called Coalfoot back. Then he summoned Aconite next to him.

"Be very careful," he told the toxicroak. "It hasn't slowed down like I thought it would, so whatever you do, just keep moving, alright?"

Aconite nodded and stepped into the ring. When the referee started the round, Aconite bounded across the ring of the arena, ducking and bobbing around Chainsaw's flurry of strikes. During one attack, Chainsaw overextended itself over Aconite, and she threw a punch into the scizor's midsection. The attack didn't even make Chainsaw budge. Instead, the scizor landed on top of Aconite, grabbed her, held her up, and punched her across the arena. Aconite crashed into the kinetic barrier in front of Sam and slumped down to the floor.

Sam called Aconite back and closed his eyes.

I'm going to lose, he told himself. If I can't match that scizor's speed, I'm going to lose. But if I use that power…

Sam shook his head and reached down for Luna's pokeball, but as his fingers tightened around it, his throat tightened, and sweat trickled down his neck.

I can't send Luna out there. She'd get crushed.

Then why don't you accept my help? The unknown voice asked him. You won't be able to win without me.

Stop it! Get out of my head!

I would if I could, the voice grumbled, but I'm stuck in here.

What are you?

Do you want my help or not?

No! No way! I'm not about to listen to some voice in my head!

Listen, let's make a deal. I'll help you out, and I'll stay quiet in here, and in return, you help me out with what I want. How does that sound?

Sam paused. You promise to stay quiet?

I've been quiet so far, right?

Well… no, I shouldn't. I won't.

Then what about Luna?

Sam looked down at the pokeball in his hand. He raised it to his mask, and studied its worn, painted surface.

Fine. But just this once, that's it.

Done.

Sam felt the world shift into focus. Through the eyes of his mask, he could see every shift and muscle twitch of the scizor. He could also see power rippling from its body, a familiar power, one that felt like his own.

Uh… Sam? The voice said. I wasn't expecting that.

Can we still win?

The voice paused for a moment, and said, only one way to find out. No promises.

Sam took a deep breath and threw his pokeball forward. Through the slow motion, as the ball tumbled through the air, Sam spent every second of it wishing he could take it back, walk away, and forget about the decision he just made. But after those agonizing few seconds stretched out into minutes, Luna emerged from her pokeball, ready to fight.

Sam saw the referee's lips move before his signal reached his ears. The scizor crouched low, preparing to pounce, and Sam studied its stance before shouting, "Fire a shadow ball underneath you!"

As Chainsaw raced forward into Luna's attack, he studied its block and the shifts in its stance.

"Now, fire a dark pulse at the barrier!"

Luna blasted the barrier, propelling herself towards the center of the arena as Chainsaw leapt up into the shower of black sparks. The scizor brushed the attack away and kept up the pursuit.

This won't work, the voice told him. It's not even getting scratched. You should just forfeit the match before Luna gets hurt.

I promised I'd win the next match.

But you also promised… I'll be quiet now.

Attack after attack, Sam used his slowed perception of time to plot out the next step, but the longer the battle dragged on, the closer Chainsaw got to hitting Luna. After five minutes, Chainsaw landed a metal claw that grazed Luna's left leg, flinging a tiny spray of blood into the air. Attack after attack forced Luna back closer and closer to the kinetic barrier. When the scizor pulled back a claw to pummel Luna, Sam knew he had only one option left.

"Flash and jump!"

Luna filled the arena with blinding light and leapt, but Chainsaw had kept a claw over its eyes. Luna flew helpless through the air as the scizor crouched its legs and sprang into the air. Sam calculated its trajectory and predicted its attack, but every trick he could think of resulted in failure. Paralyzed by the lack of options, Sam watched as Chainsaw's claws sank into Luna's legs, twisted her around, and flung her into the arena's concrete floor.

Sam called Luna back by his side and healed her. The woman in the red Oni mask smirked and turned away without a word, collecting a large wad of cash. As Sam left, Mr. Deltoro waited for him by the elevator doors, holding a thin envelope in his hands.

"Better luck next time, eh Feathers?" he said with a chuckle.

Sam took the money in silence, brought the costume back to the lawyer's office, and returned home. He crawled under the covers and almost said good night to the empty bedroom before cursing under his breath and bunching up the covers under his chin. And though he prayed, just once, that he'd get a good night's sleep as he slipped a pill into his mouth, the gleaming blue eye was still there the moment darkness descended.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Undercover Research

Samuel Milone sat in front of his family's television, watching a live report from PNC studios, discussing the miraculous recovery of Sadie Miller, a gas-leak victim hospitalized with no hope of recovery. After the jewel thief known as Black Crow broke into her room and left a jewel necklace at her bedsidem she experienced instant improvement in her health, and will be sent home tomorrow morning. In addition, the jewel's owner allowed her to keep it as a token of kindness.

"That's bull," Sam's mother said behind him. "He's only doing that to promote his store. Heck, I wish the guy stole one of my pots and left it there."

Sam turned the television off and stood up. "Well, I don't think taking it back would be good for his business."

"Good point. Want some lunch?"

"Nah, I'll have it at Brandon's."

"Alright then, have fun!"

Sam touched the small electronic device stashed in his pocket and walked out the door. As he wound his way through the streets, he saw the occasional black feather tucked into the hair or shirts of people he passed. Intrigued and disturbed, Sam stopped a sandy-haired man with a heavy-set body and a huge grin and asked them about their feather.

"Oh, this?" he asked, pointing to the feather impaled onto his flannel shirt. "Isn't Black Crow the fucking best? He's like something out of a movie, y'know?" Sam nodded, and the man said, "Hey, wanna know where to get one? They're in drugstores everywhere, man! They're pretty pricey though."

Sam shook his head and walked on. He heard the man shouting after him, but Sam disappeared down an alley and kept walking. His breathing eased when he emerged into the wealthier district of the city, where the crowds thinned and fewer black feathers floated around him. Eventually, the crowd disappeared altogether, leaving Sam alone as he walked down the Oak Estate driveway up to the thick oaken door.

When Sam knocked, Marianne answered the door. She handed him a folded piece of paper with Brandon's writing on it.

In the basement, it read, working with dad.

Sam walked over to the lab door and tested the handle. It didn't budge, and the alarm on the handle beeped at him. After a moment, he heard footsteps thumping up stairs through the door, and then it opened. Brandon wore a huge, thick set of safety goggles and a thick, gleaming white labcoat with a square green stain on the sleeve.

"Oh, hey! Didn't you read the note?"

Sam looked at the piece of paper on his hand and flipped it over. It said nothing beside those six words.

"Uh… it doesn't say much."

Brandon yanked the paper from his hands and read it. "Oh, thought I had the rest of it on there. Oh well. Care for some breakfast?"

Sam looked at his clock. "Breakfast? It's three in the afternoon."

Brandon walked over to the fridge and flung the door open. "Yeah, I know, but all we got left in the fridge are scrambled eggs and pan- hey, they were right here! Did you eat them already?"

"I just got here," Sam said. He looked at Marianne, who glanced away from them and twiddled her thin, slender fingers. A tiny crumb of pancake was stuck to the side of her cheek.

Sam tapped Brandon's shoulder and pointed at Marianne. "I think I found the culprit."

Brandon did a double-take before he noticed the crumb on her face. "Marianne, I told you not to eat that stuff! Who knows what that could do to your digestion!" She backed away and turned towards the wall. Brandon smiled and stretched out his hand. "Come here."

Marianne stepped closer, and Brandon moved his hand to wipe off the crumb, but his finger stopped an inch away. He glanced at Sam and froze. Sam motioned for him to continue, but Brandon retraced his hand. Marianne frowned and flicked the crumb off herself.

"So… have you heard anything?"

"Huh? Oh, um, no. Dad won't talk about it much. He says it's all classified." He closed the fridge and asked, "Couldn't you find out through…" He paused, looking at the lab door before continuing. "Through your police stuff?"

"If I could, I wouldn't be asking."

"Oh. Weird. So, are you going to ask him yourself, maybe explain everything?"

"I can't." Sam glanced towards the windows and around the room. "It's bad enough you know, and I got one hell of a scolding for that. No one else must know."

"Hmm… then I don't think I can help you. Sorry."

Footsteps interrupted their conversation, and the professor ran into the room. "Brandon, that's where you went!" Then he looked at Sam and said, "Oh, hello there! That's why Brandon disappeared on me. How's the college funding going?"

"Well," Sam said. "Looks like I'll have everything I need."

"Splendid!" He glanced at the fridge and said, "Now that I think about it, I'm starving. How about we all have some breakfast!"

"Marianne ate it," Brandon said. "Unless you want poffins, we'll need to make a McD's run."

Professor Oak's face scrunched up. "Ugh, I'm never doing that again." He slammed shut the lab door, flung his lab coat onto the kitchen counter, and grabbed his keys. "I'll be back with the usual, alright?"

Before Sam could ask for anything, he was gone, leaving him and Brandon alone in the kitchen.

"So, now what?"

Sam reached into his pocket and took out the transmitter from his last heist. He wedged it against the door's lock and called Mr. Ducall.

"Hey, it's me. Think you can get Johnny on the line? I could use his help."

"What is it this time?"

"Research project. You know, the Chainsaw matter."

"Ah, that. Well, no promises, but I'll make this a conference call with him." After another ringtone, a hushed voice answered the phone.

"You do realize I'm at work, right?"

"Sorry Johnny, but I won't get another chance. Think you can hack this lock like the last one? I got that transmitter on there."

Furious typing came through the phone, and after a second, Johnny said with breathless wonder, "Jesus Christ, I've only seen locks this good on Sinex property. Where the fuck are you?"

"Professor Oak's lab."

"Well, shit, that explains it. You're screwed. It'd take hours to crack that. No, days. Just get the hell out of there before anyone finds you."

"Who are you calling?" Brandon asked. "And what are you doing with the door?"

"Who was that? And why the hell are they with you at Oak's lab?"

If I may interject, the voice in Sam's head said, I think we can get the door open ourselves.

"Could you all stop talking and let me think?" He shouted to the room. As silence loomed over them like a stormy cloud, Sam mentally asked the voice, What are you thinking?

The door unlocks when someone opens it from the inside. All we have to do is move the handle and we're in.

And how do I do that? The door's made of Delta alloy, nothing gets through that stuff.

Trust me, I've done it before.

Sam closed his eyes to force the power out, and to his surprise, he slipped into the timeless thought process instantly, without any perceived distortion in time. One second, normal, and before the next, nothing. With a thought, his power snaked out towards the door, and it pushed against the crystalline metal.

It's not going through!

I didn't say it would be easy. Keep pushing.

Sam braced more of his power against the door, and bit by bit, he felt it slipping through the crystal lattices, worming its way to the other side, gripping the door, and pulling on the handle. The lock beeped, and Sam pulled the door open.

"Thanks Johnny!" he loudly said into the phone. "I knew I could count on you."

"But I didn't –"

Sam hung up and turned towards Brandon. "Could you let me know if he's coming up the driveway?"

Brandon glanced nervously down the lit stairway. "Are you sure you should be doing this?"

"I don't have much of a choice at this point."

Brandon frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright, but – oh wait, there's cameras down there!"

I can fix that too.

How? By rewiring the cameras or something?

What? Uh, no, by making you invisible.

"Johnny took care of those too. They'll be on a loop from recent footage of the empty lab."

"Oh."

Once Brandon took position by the window, Sam stepped beyond the doorway and paused at the top of the stairs.

Okay, so now how do I do this invisibility stuff?

There's a lot of ways to do it, either by making the photons pass right through you, which'll make you unable to see by the way, reflecting back the photons that hit you so it'll look like they're passing right through you, or my personal favorite, killing everything in the room so there's no one to see you in the first place.

Sam had no words with which to answer the homicidal voice in his head. Recognizing the blunder it had just made, the voice said, I'll shut up now.

Before he walked into the lab proper, Sam paused to figure out the invisibility trick. After some feeling around, he realized he could hone his senses to feel individual photons bouncing off of his skin, millions upon millions in every fraction of a second. Sam tried mimicking the photons bouncing off of him, but he could never manage to control more than a few dozen out of the torrent. Then he shut them out altogether, only to find his vision blocked by the lack of photons hitting his retina. He thought of blindly stumbling around the lab until he found something and thought better of it in the event that he might knock over something expensive.

In the end, his lie to Brandon gave him the inspiration. Maybe he couldn't control countless random photons bouncing everywhere, but he could simulate the steady streams of laser light emitted from the room's equipment and block out everything else, making the cameras see nothing but a normal, dark room. With a quick search, his power found all three cameras and blocked off their input, feeding them a loop of what Sam had observed.

When he walked inside, the lights snapped on, but the cameras still saw nothing. While holding the cameras in darkness, he checked drawers and cabinets by opening them with thin tendrils of power and swept the room for any signs of the sensation of power he felt during his first visit. After a minute of searching, he found a muffled scent of it coming from a heavy Delta-alloy safe hidden behind a wall panel. He sprung the lock open from the inside and examined the contents.

Row upon row of blood samples rested in metal holders all along the walls, while thin flesh samples and cell-infused solutions wedged between glass panes were carefully stacked in the middle. On each piece of glass, a clear sticker with printed black text marked the number and date of each sample.

"Omega project, sample SM18-3, July eighth… hey, that was a few weeks ago."

The blood samples are much stronger than the rest, the voice quietly pointed out.

Sam didn't answer the voice as he held up several of the slides. "Omega project, sample CT0-6, Omega project sample QF0-18, sample IR0-11, all taken around fifteen months ago."

Sam pulled out more blood samples and scanned them. "SM18-1, SM17-5 hey, that was last year, SM14-1 from four years ago, SM9-5 nine years ago.Come to think of it, these look like the vials that doctor had."

Drake?

"Yeah, that guy. Kind of hard not to remember those vials when he keeps sticking them in me every chance he gets. So, do you know anything about this?"

Not a clue.

"Great. Guess this was a complete waste of time."

Not really. Now we know to look for Project Omega.

Sam returned the vials and closed up the safe. "Right. Let's just waltz up to Sinex headquarters and ask to see their top secret files. I won't get arrested for that."

The voice didn't answer. Instead, Brandon's voice came down the stairs. "You better get back up here, he's back!"

Sam ran out of the lab, turned off the lights behind him, and closed the door. Then he felt the power ebb out of him, and a sudden headache made him sink to his knees.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just – just nerves." Sam took a deep breath and imagined himself on a wooden stage. "It – it isn't easy, doing all this."

Brandon placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can always stop, you know. I know this is important, but if it's too much for you, just tell them. They can't blame you."

"I know. I can do this." Sam took more breaths, stood up, and nodded at Brandon. "Thank you."

The front door opened, and Thaddeus Oak walked in, bearing two McDonalds bags under his arm.

"Thank god they started serving breakfast all day," he said, upending the bags onto the counter. "If I eat another one of those burgers I think I'll have to burn the place down."

Sam ate quickly, struggling to keep composed as each heartbeat made him feel like his skull was about to split in half. After choking down two sausage biscuits, he crumpled up the wrappers and headed towards the door.

"I should be going now, or I'll be late to work."

"Ofay fen," Brandon said through a mouthful of pancakes, "Fee you laffer!"

Sam ran home, his gut racked by wave after wave of nausea. He stopped at a random deli and quickly used their restroom, depositing two half-chewed biscuits and ground-up beef into a toilet before walking the rest of the way home. When he got back, he went straight to bed and popped open the plastic bottle on his nightstand. As he tipped two pills into his hand and raised them to his mouth, he stopped. A signal, much like the blood samples but far fainter, wafted from the pills. He slipped into the state of power and examined them more thoroughly.

"I think I should make an appointment with Doctor Drake sometime soon."

Or you could just break your ankle again.

Sam couldn't tell if the voice was joking or not.