Tarah moved on toward the woods while Ebgin kneeled next to Spark and petted his head. "Good job, Spark." Spark panted, jaw hung open in a grin, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He looked tired, but happy. He must have been glad about winning the match, too.

Pulling his pokeball from his shorts' pocket, Ebgin gave Spark one last scratch behind the ears and recalled him. Next, he needed to talk to Tolby. Ebgin was not the type to become angry just because he lost a match, and he would have been happy to shake Tolby's hand if he had been the victor instead; but after his reaction to losing, Ebgin didn't think Tolby would be willing to do the same. Ebgin just wanted to be friends. He didn't know what to expect now.

Standing, he turned. Tolby was only a few feet away, staring at him. It looked like he had been in that position for several moments. Unsettled, Ebgin hugged himself defensively with one arm, fingers clutching his other arm above the elbow. Tolby's expression was intense, eyes squinting, brow wrinkled. He looked- angry? No, he was in deep thought. His eyes just happened to be looking over this way.

"Tolby?" Ebgin tried gently.

Tolby's shoulders slowly fell as he released a long breath. "I apologize, Ebgin. I lost my temper."

The apology made Ebgin regretful of any negative thoughts he'd had. "No," he said hastily, "it's alright. I understand how frustrating it can be to lose." Ebgin immediately realized what he'd said. "I mean, to have your hard work not pay off, y'know?" He hoped his attempt at damage control would work. He really didn't want to offend Tolby, especially now, when it seemed that they could put any worries behind them.

Tolby just smiled, at himself it seemed like, and it was a sad smile. "I am more disappointed in myself, really, for my pugnacious reaction." Ebgin pretended to understand by remaining silent. "Well, anyhow." Tolby stuck out his hand. Ebgin looked at it for a moment of uncertainty, then took hold of it and they shook. "I will still be here with Tettle when you return. We can continue our conversations of the world of Pokemon then, I presume."

"Yeah," Ebgin agreed cheerfully. "I would like that."

Tolby returned to the dock, while Ebgin turned toward the woods. Tarah was waiting at the treeline with her arms crossed under her breast, a hip thrust out to the side, one leg bent and the other straight out, toes pointed with only the ball of the foot on the ground. Somehow, Ebgin understood this body language to mean that she was impatient and, what's more, the stance itself was silently representing a scolding. Ebgin reacted appropriately, approaching with his head hung low, only looking at her from beneath his eyebrows. He hoped his own deferential body language would be enough to prevent her from doing anything more than just looking unhappy with him.

Dropping her arms to her sides, she turned toward the forest. "Let's go."
Relieved, Ebgin picked up his pace and trotted up behind her. From the sun of the beachfront to the shade of the forest they went, with great rotund
trees extending high above and their branches spreading wide to shield all under their foliage from the burning sun.

Ebgin felt strangely at home in the forest. The smell of soil and dead leaves were soothing, and the coolness was always a comfort. The silence, too, was nice, with just the wind rustling through the branches and their footsteps crunching on the dirt and the occasional twig, brittle with age, snapping underfoot. This forest was the closest Ebgin had seen yet to his own imagination of how one should look. The trees were large and round, and the space between them was open, with only a bush or shrubbery here and there.

Yet, among the pleasantness and intrigue, Ebgin wondered where exactly a building would be, and why here? Would it be within the forest or was it on the other side? Rather than ask, he decided to wait and learn. Tarah was in a serious mood and he wasn't going to test what patience she might have remaining with questions, however reasonable they might be.

The trees began to become scattered and sparse, the dried leaves clearing to show a dark, long grass, about a foot long, bowing under its own weight. Mother had planted some grass like that in her garden. Water Grass he recalled. It's a pretty grass, with a deeper, richer color than regular grass. When Ebgin had asked his mother why all grass wasn't replaced with Water Grass, she laughed and gave him a skeptical look, "This grass is thick. Trust me, you wouldn't want to try mowing it."

Well, it seemed that someone didn't mind, because it covered this area, and there, up ahead, as if materializing before them, was the building. It was a rounded rectangle roundabout, maybe five-hundred feet wide, and it shot up into the air so high that Ebgin had to tilt his head way back to see the top. He automatically began counting how many floors there were, using the dark glass windows as indicators. Ten stories! How did Ebgin not see such a massive structure from less than a mile away? How had he not noticed its construction? Surely all the materials to build such a massive place would have been coming through town. They would have had to put some heavy boats on the water to carry the metal beams and giant glass panes.
Tarah tapped his shoulder to get his attention and jerked her head to beckon him onward. He gave one last look upward, then scurried after her.
The building looked very modern and sleek, made of glass and steel, or anyway, some kind of metal. The entryway was a large, glass double-door with a metal frame.

"Bulletproof," Tarah said proudly as they approached, grinning askance.

From the right, a man appeared, walking toward the building entrance on an intersecting path. He was massive, at least 6'2'', with a neck as thick as Ebgin's waist and arms that were bigger. His gait seemed both relaxed and purposeful, like a graveler hunting for a good place to settle; he knew he was the toughest thing around, so he didn't concern himself much with nearby creatures, but he didn't miss the fact that you were there.

Something about the man felt dangerous right away. Ebin stopped short at first, but when Tarah continued he scampered behind her. One hand stayed in his pocket, ready to withdraw his growlithe at any moment. The man came to a stop in front of the double doors, hands down at his sides, fingers curled. That was when Ebgin noticed the gun holstered at his side. Ebgin had mixed feelings about this. It probably meant that he was official, hired by the corporation. On the other hand, the guy had a gun and although some Pokemon were known to be powerful enough to make guns almost useless, Ebgin did not think that he nor Tarah had the ability to defend themselves if the man opened fire. He was already running scenarios through his mind, but he could think of no good strategies, especially if he had to call forth Spark before he could do anything.

Ebgin looked up at Tarah, wanting to say something, but she seemed just fine, so he said nothing.

"Theadore," Tarah said curtly, nodding her head with a quick jerk.

Oh, so she knew him. Ebgin let out a puff of air and realized he had been holding his breath. Sweat had begun to break out on his forehead. He began to relax almost immediately.

"Tarah," Theadore greeted just as curtly. His voice was deep and neutral in tone, business-like. "Who's the kid?" He did not so much as gesture toward Ebgin.

"My protege. The boss knows we're coming."

Theadore grunted thoughtfully, if such a thing could be done. Ebgin was growing anxious. It looked like they were only going to get in if this man allowed it, and he seemed reluctant.

"Theadore, beat it. You know I'm legitimate."
He looked down at Ebgin and it was like being stared at by an ursaring. Not hungry, just aggressive.

"Go on," he said abruptly and stepped aside. Tarah flicked her braid back over her shoulder, stepped past him and reached out her arm, scanning her PokeGear on some kind of electronic panel that was jutting out of the ground about chest-high to Ebgin. With a beep, there was the sound of air escaping pressure and the double doors slid smoothly open in a rush of cool wind.

Ebgin skirted past the big man, keeping himself guarded, chin tucked. Theadore remained standing straight, face forward, but he followed Ebgin's movement with his eyes.

With a woosh, the doors closed together again, separating him and the man. It gave him some comfort to have bulletproof glass between them. Looking about, Ebgin took in his surroundings. He was standing in a wide open room. The floor was tiled with some kind of stone texture, though he could not tell if it was actual stone or some artificial material. It was all light and dark grays. At the far wall there were two doors. It was difficult to discern from this distance, a couple hundred feet or so, but they looked like they had some sort of security measures next to them, maybe another PokeGear scanner.

In a couple of places there were these short, metal structures, like small walls, fixed into the floor, though what they were for Ebgin couldn't guess. The place seemed more like a warehouse than an office building. There was a noticeable lack of clutter or disorganization in general. The floor was polished, there were some wooden palettes along the walls, aligned in straight rows, and a few coils of wire neatly hung over hooks on the wall.
Tarah spent no time here, leading the way directly toward those two doors in the back. There was a long, thin window that ran from one end of the wall to the other, breaking and starting again at each door. Looking through it, Ebgin saw that both of these doors opened into the same room. Tarah swiped her wrist over the panel next to the right-hand door and then grabbed hold of the handle and pulled it open. Based upon the way she exerted herself and how slowly it opened, the door must have been heavy. This place was built like a fortress. Scans to get in, heavy metal doors- who even knew this place was here? Why the strong security?

On the other side of the door, Ebgin entered an entirely different atmosphere. Unlike the quiet, empty room he'd just come from, this one was bustling with activity and sound. There were five or so desks clustered near each other, and at each desk was a man or a woman typing away on a computer, or talking on a phone, or walking papers briskly down the hallway. One man was standing, receiver pressed against his chest to stifle his in-person conversation against whoever was on the other end of the line.

At the far wall there was a long table with depleted, greasy pizza boxes piled together in a sad simulacrum of a pyramid. Three or four 32 ounce soda bottles were clustered together, not one still in possession of its cap, most of which were lying haphazardly on the countertop, one cap having improbably landed on its side and remained that way. There was also a stack of foam plates, and one of the workers - a thin fellow with a wet spot on the breast of his white dress shirt - had a plate on his desk holding a discarded crust and a half-eaten slice of pizza.

Tarah looked irritated. "This place," she told Ebgin, "is always like this."

"What are they doing?" It must have been awfully important for them to be so energetically working.

"This? This is the accounting department. They ensure funds are all going where they're supposed to go. If anything so much as might go wrong, our field agents give these employees a call and get things sorted."

Ebgin watched as the man who had been standing and talking to his coworker collapsed down into his chair, hung up the phone and immediately began typing. The man with the wet spot on his shirt offered him the half-eaten slice of pizza. Typing with one hand and without looking away from the screen, he grabbed the pizza from the plate and began eating it. Ebgin grimaced.

"I hope you guys enjoyed the pizza!" Came a perky, feminine voice from the left. Those not on the phone gave brief cheers and other positive responses, while those who couldn't talk raised their hands or little foam cups in a gesture of thanks. The perky voice was coming from a stack of papers with legs, walking rapidly toward Ebgin and Tarah.

"Wisperal," Tarah called. A pretty head peeked out from behind the shedding stack of papers, thick, straight red hair dangling. Ebgin watched pages peel from the top of her pile and go sweeping across the floor. His legs wanted to immediately go and pick them up, but his good sense told him not to do anything he wasn't asked.

"Well!" Wisperal exclaimed cheerfully. "If it isn't Tarah." She shifted her weight and turned a bit to look at Ebgin. "And her promising young student."

"Ebgin," Ebgin said helpfully, to which she smiled, showing white teeth.

"Wisperal," Tarah said again, "what are you doing with all of those?"

"Oh! These? Just some requisition forms for some necessities, a few export documents that require a signature, and probably a dozen requests for office supplies and 'facilitators,' to maintain morale. You know how it is- Oh, look at me rambling. I'm sure you weren't interested in all of that."

"No." Tarah's curt response elicited a pout from Wisperal. She stuck her bottom lip out. "I am simply suggesting," Tarah continued, "that you may request some assistance with those." She glanced at the significant backtrail of papers going all the way down the hallway and making a left. "You're losing documentation, and you know the boss."

Looking back, Wisperal shifted the weight of the papers and, seeing the paper trail, gasped with a squeak that was surprisingly high-pitched. It made Ebgin titter, but he tried not to show it.

"Oh, look at this," Wisperal said. "Well, I'm almost halfway to my destination now, so there's no point in starting over. I'll just have to return when I'm done. Incidentally." Her tone shifted, she became a quieter. "Tarah, did you see Teddy? I've been keeping my eyes peeled for him all morning but-"

"He was outside making a parameter sweep and harassing innocent employees and their students. Perhaps when you see him next you might scold him."

"Is he being a nuisance? Well, you know he means well. Thanks for the tip, babe. Now, if you'll excuse me." Shifting the weight of the stack again, she began walking, but she slowed as she past Ebgin. "I think you'll enjoy your time here, Ebby. Just don't let this one frighten you, O.K.?" With a wink and a smile she was off at the same brisk pace as before. There was the gentle sound of papers lightly brushing against the floor as they floated down and came to rest.

Tarah rolled her eyes at the spectacle. "Let's go."

They followed in Wisperal's footsteps, taking the hallway to the right, but whereas she had gone through a door on the left, Ebgin and Tarah continued straight, directly to an elevator affixed flush in the far wall. The sounds of workers behind them was a dull, quiet sound now.

"I like her," Ebgin said.

"Who doesn't." Tarah replied absently as she hit the call button. The ding! that alerts of an arrived elevator sounded immediately. The doors slid
open.

Ebgin checked off "Wisperal" as a potential conversational topic with Tarah. He decided on a new question. "Where are we going, again?" His curiosity had been warring with his patience, but he was becoming nervous, walking through this giant building in the middle of nowhere, and it tipped the scale in favor of asking instead of waiting to see.

The elevator doors slid closed and Tarah hit the button for the second floor. It glowed orange. "I don't own Hierarchy. That's Mister Dewitz. My word is a strong recommendation, but ultimately he will decide whether you are hired, and even your position in the company, although that will likely be left to my sole discretion."

Ebgin had many questions - who was Mr. Dewitz? Why did he want Ebgin? He was just a kid! What did this company do? - but none of them seemed like ones that Tarah would be willing to answer, so he just pondered silently to himself until the sound of the arrival chime, and the doors opened.

"Normally, I'd take the stairs, but we don't want you huffing and puffing during your interview."

Ebgin was a bit offended by that comment. He was as fit as any other kid at school, and certainly more fit than most adults seemed to be, with the exception of Tarah, who he noticed had well-built musculature on her thighs in particular. Looking away from her enviable form, Ebgin gazed out of the open elevator doors.

This floor had seemingly nothing but this one hallway with a darkly stained wooden door at the end, with a brass knob. That, and the stairwell access door on the right.

As they exited the elevator and continued down the corridor, Ebgin noticed a door on the left. There were floor-to-ceiling windows, but heavy wooden blinds were drawn. "What's in there?"

"That's just a meeting room for the senior employees."

"Are you a senior employee?"

Tarah made a face and her words lacked enthusiasm. "Sure, yeah."

Ebgin felt some pride. His personal teacher was a senior employee! He was surely learning from an experienced trainer. Maybe the best around.

Tarah slowed as they approached the door at the end of the hallway, a door that was becoming increasingly foreboding the closer they got. She stopped before it and Ebgin drew up beside her. She looked down at him. "You ready?"

"What do I do?" He was nervous. Should he have worn more formal clothes? Maybe planned a speech? His eyes were becoming wide with panic.

"Hey, kid. Calm yourself. Remember, you're being recommended by me. You're practically hired already. As long as you don't say anything stupid you'll be fine. Got it?"

Well, that had made him feel a little better. After all, he wasn't asking for the job. It was Tarah's idea, and she was way tougher than him. Whatever happened, she could handle it. Satisfied with those thoughts, Ebgin tried to smile. "O.K., I'm ready."

"And if those feelings begin welling up again, just remember that I am scarier than anything behind this door."

Ebgin felt crippling anxiety flooding his psyche again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tried not to hyperventilate.