The Team Rocket Chronicles

By Red Dragonfly (aka Rebecca Lang)

. . .

Chapter 27

March Nineteenth

. . .

. . .

Leah lay on the grass. The delights of the world felt painfully heavy in her chest. Outside of her pokeball, her senses were once again clear and focused: the ticklish tufts of the green grass, the gold of the sunrise, the wind singing like a snake charmer, and the heavy steel of the restraining device. The restraining device. It made the wistful world transform into an endearing torment.

Leah looked up as Nidorino suddenly approached.

Nice morning, isn't it? he said pleasantly.

Leah glared at him, but his eyes turned and gazed into the morning cool.

You're lucky, he told her. I didn't get nearly as much time outside my pokeball. But then being inside of it didn't bother me nearly so much either.

I suppose you're going to tell me that Jaquie is being lenient. That I'm lucky to have more time for leisure, Nidorina said bitterly. What kind of leisure is this when the restraining device holds me down? And you think I haven't noticed that none of the other pokemon are wearing one?

You should consider it a compliment, Nidorino replied. Jaquie only uses the strengthening device on pokemon she thinks has potential. I wore the strengthening device, too. In fact I wore a number 26 strengthening device, which weighed about twice as much as I did, whereas you only have to wear number 24, just slightly above the maximum.

Just slightly above the maximum, Leah echoed derisively. Yes, I am so very lucky. Next, I suppose that you'll be telling me I'm lucky that Jaquie isolated me from the rest of the pokemon-

You were trying to cause a mutiny.

I suppose I should be thankful that Jaquie enslaved me. It's all for the best.

It's not slavery, Nidorino said, exasperated. Jaquie is trying to make you stronger. She's teaching you, if you'd only listen.

You became a slave to gain strength.

We're not slaves! Stop thinking of us like that! Stop thinking of Jaquie as a slave driver.

Nidorina shook her head. Why do you always defend that human?

That human. That's all you ever see her as. You don't even try to understand her side of it. You think she's hard on us, she's ten times harder on herself. You don't even know how much pressure she's always under.

You've fallen under her influence, Leah said with scornful pity. Some time over your enslavement she's crushed your spirit. Look at you. You don't even have a name. You probably don't even remember what freedom is anymore.

Nidorino's eyes grew dangerous. All right then Leah, tell me what freedom is, he said quietly.

It's simple, Leah said. Freedom is being able to do what you want with no one to stop you. Freedom is being out in wilderness with the day to yourself. It's eating what you like, and thinking as you wish. It's relaxing without set times and limits and restraints. If you joined me you could experience this freedom, too. You can choose your own trainer and live your own life.

I understand, Nidorino said calmly. You've enjoyed freedom all your life. Complete freedom, complete independence, and all this time you've never had to pay for it.

Leah bristled. What do you know about it? You've never experienced freedom in all your life.

Oh, I've experienced it, he replied. And let me tell you something about this precious freedom you keep raving about. In my world, you grew up free. Oh yes, the world was your oyster. Provided you were big enough and strong enough to fend for yourself.

Let me tell you something about freedom. I was free to roam around whenever I wanted. Provided I didn't run into one of the five million grumpy Spearows that lived in the trees or get in the way of the fierce Rattattas that moved along the fields or invade the territory of another, much stronger Nidoran. I was free to eat what I wanted and when I wanted, which was whatever was left over at three o'clock in the morning when everyone else was asleep.

Of course, I could choose my own teacher, except that there were none. But I could always choose from those zero. I could train the way I chose. Which was mostly practicing the few attacks I knew on harmless grasses and small rocks. Or I could try to fight another pokemon. Then I'd be pecked or stomped until I whimpered away, bruised and nearly unconscious. Then who would heal me? Who would apply potion or cocoon me in a nice, protective pokeball?

Let me tell you about this wonderful freedom you keep going on and on about, Nidorino continued on. By the time I was a year old, I was sick of it. I was praying to be captured. The happiest day of my life was when I saw that pokeball coming towards me. You want me to abandon my trainer? Well, I don't think so. Because of her, I can walk into the field and defeat every pokemon that ever tormented me. Because of her, I don't have to worry about being hungry or safe. Because of her, I am not enslaved to your savage, ruthless freedom.

He looked at her, and she flinched away. Suddenly Leah felt dumb and naive, as a child speaking of things she didn't understand. She tried to regain her convictions, but they wouldn't come. When she looked into Nidorino's eyes, what little remained slowly leaked out. She felt hollow, like a fire that had burned out.

Things are different here, she told him, not quite looking him. Here pokemon don't hurt each other like that.

Yes, he replied, staring at the sun. And who made it that way?

. . .

To Kolb's surprise, Karen arrived on time. She was farther from her usual place, away from the plains and clinging to the bushes that teased of Gadara's territory. She stood, withdrew her Rapidash, and hesitated. She took a step forward and hesitated again. Finally, she squared her shoulders and marched into the field.

"I have decided to go through with the mind search," she said mechanically.

Shalimar smiled. "That's wonderful Karen. You should know, the mind search is not a dangerous process, but it is one that is a bit... uncomfortable. It does take some courage to sacrifice privacy for a cause..."

Kolb let Shalimar's blather fade into the background and instead focused on Karen. She was paler than normal, he thought, and her lips were tight. Beads of sweat collected around her forehead and her hands were tightly. He scanned her thoughts. No, she wasn't listening to Shalimar's speech, either. Her mind was completely absorbed on observing a tree.

"You're nervous," Kolb observed, probably cutting Shalimar off.

Karen startled. "Reading my mind?"

"No, your expression. Why are you so nervous?"

"Are you reading my thoughts now?"

"Yes."

"Can you stop?"

"Why?"

"Because it's incredibly distracting to have a conversation when you're worried that someone knows your every thought."

"I'll stop," Kolb said. "But it's pointless. In a few minutes, I'll search your mind and know exactly what it is you were thinking."

"I realize that. But I'd still like to have some privacy. I'm letting you search my mind because I understand that my own personal discomfort is insignificant. It's just that I'm not used to having every aspect of my life an open book."

"Why? Are you hiding something?"

"You'll know soon enough, won't you?" Karen muttered. She forced a smile. "Look, I'm sorry, but this is all very new to me. Now, I don't know how this whole mind search thingie works, if all the field will be able to see my thoughts or..."

"Only Kolb will," Enki answered. "Then he'll transfer the thoughts to us. Only we will have to know the details of your life."

"All the same," said Karen, "can we perhaps move away from the field a little? It'd make me feel better not to have so many eyes staring at me while I'm going through... this process."

"What happened to a public trial?" Kolb asked.

Karen gave him a subtle smile. "The last time that happened certain people were very cruel with the secrets of my personal life."

Kolb frowned. He remembered how his aggressiveness made him unpopular. Still, he suspected something about Karen. Kolb drew a link between his thoughts and Shalimar's.

What if it's a trap? he asked her.

Her against the four of us? Shalimar replied. None of us are novice fighters, Kolb. Besides, the bushes are in plain view of the other pokemon. If she does anything, they'll see it.

Kolb nodded and turned to Karen.

"We'll give you the privacy you desire," he declared.

He spoke to the pokemon in the field in their own language and they reluctantly backed away. Karen smiled in and led the leaders into the bushes. They all gathered in a tight-knit circle around her, with Kolb bringing up the rear.

"Thanks," she told them. "I appreciate this. You see, I'm really, really nervous about this."

"This must be frightening for you," Shalimar said soothingly, coming close to Karen. "I can understand-"

Shalimar suddenly froze mid-sentence.

"Shalimar?" Kolb said.

He turned to Enki. The Scyther's massive scythes were rigid and still, and his eyes glazed over. Kolb looked at Vannack. Vannack looked back, confusion written on his face. There was a faint, breezy, whistling sound. Vannack's rock body stiffened. His eyes were as a drowning pokemon, desperately trying to keep above the surface, but slipping, slowly sinking into murky blue. Then, the spark was gone.

Kolb turned ferociously to Karen. "What have you done!" he demanded.

"Nothing," she replied.

Kolb was hit.

It happened in a flash. He barely felt the splash of liquid before it stuck in his skin. Kolb felt his muscles tense and tighten; he tried to move his lips to say something but couldn't. Then he felt his mind failing. Something was slowly leaking into his brain, conquering one section after another, his thoughts becoming abstracted. In that in between place between full consciousness and sleep, he was losing himself.

He looked at Karen. Her expression was blank.

Then his mind fell under a cloud of black.

. . .

"I never liked watching the amnesia serum do its work," Karen said. "The worst is when they look all blank-eyed. If that ever happens to me, kill me."

"I'll take note of that," Kris replied, still crouching deep in the bushes. "Don't worry Karen. The amnesia serum doesn't work on humans."

"Yet," she said darkly. "You know the Blastoise sometimes reminded me of myself: suspicious, sarcastic..."

"He was about to attack you. If I didn't use the amnesia serum, you'd be dead."

Karen said nothing. Kris knew her reply.

"Don't make me feel guilty, Karen. We did what we did, and there's nothing we can do now. Guilt makes things worse. It makes us feel terrible without purpose."

"The purpose is to prevent us from doing it again," Karen muttered.

Kris sighed, and addressed the pokemon. "Okay, everybody come here."

The four who had once ruled as mayors moved towards him. They had to. Kris was their master and they had to obey his wishes. So complete was the amnesia serum's work that Kris' voice became their only way of thinking.

"Blastoise," Kris commanded. "Karen, what's his name?"

"Kolb."

"Kolb, how long does this mind searching thing last?"

He didn't answer. He stared at them mutely, eyes unintelligible.

"That would require thinking," Karen said bitingly. "And they can't think. You can't ask questions. You can only give them commands."

"Well, we need to know how this works. It needs to look as though they've actually searched your mind. Did they tell you how it worked?"

"I forgot to ask, okay?" Karen snapped.

"Fine. I'll have him search your mind then."

"What?" Karen glared at him with those strange blue eyes.

"He won't know what to do with the information," Kris explained. "It doesn't matter. And it has to look realistic."

"I don't care." The look she gave him was absolutely venomous. "I told you I wasn't going to have my mind searched by anyone. And that includes zombies."

"Okay, fine!" Kris gave up. "Kolb, search my mind instead. Karen, you'll have to copy what happens to me."

Kris closed his eyes and let the process take effect.

Karen watched him closely. At first he looked only slightly distracted. Then his face became intense, and soon he was breathing hard and looking almost in physical pain. Karen mimicked his expressions as best she could. The whole procedure took only a few minutes. Then Kris shook himself off.

"That wasn't fun," he said, shuddering slightly. "Apparently you also see your memories when he goes through them."

"Didn't you have good memories, Kris?"

He looked at her helplessly, and she almost felt sorry for him.

Kris turned briskly back to the pokemon. "Kolb, Vaporeon, Onix, and Scyther, you all go back there to where those field pokemon are and tell them-" Here Kris whipped back his head for drama. "-Tell them, 'We will go to war. Karen's memories have shown Jaquie to be a monster more horrible than any we had imagined. She cannot be allowed to roam free. We must destroy her!' "

They watched the leader pokemon lumber off.

"Karen, I'll reemerge after about fifteen minutes or so."

"I'll be sure to distract them until then." Karen walked off.

Kris went back into the hole Karen's Tunneler had made. Memories still lingered in his brain.

Stop it, he told himself. I can't live in the past. Guilt is stupid. It's worse than stupid, it's the reason I left home. I'm not going to let it suck me up, not now, not in my moment of triumph.

Instead, he thought about revenge, and for a minute it made him feel better and for a minute it made him feel worse, so he concentrated on practicing his speech until the past left him and the present consumed him.

Karen, meanwhile, went back to the field, trying to remember how to smile. The leaders spoke the words Kris had given them, and the crowd roared. As the noise died down, gave a soft little monologue about how grateful she was, promised a quick war, and then went on to say that Kris would be arriving shortly.

Just to be sure the pokemon wouldn't be suspicious, Kris had Tunneler dig a separate passage under the bushes in a different direction. Kris walked out, and the two put on a little skit about how delighted they both were that the pokemon were helping them. Then Kris, of course, wanted to be led into town.

Pokemon from all four city-states gathered in Kolb's city. If they were startled by their leaders' strange behavior, so accepting, so quiet, well then Kris really just surprised them more. Whatever they had expected it had not been this energetic, green-haired youth who could not have been much older than Karen herself (actually he was a year younger).

But Kris had a certain sprightly charm that drew them in immediately. As Karen introduced him, his brown eyes sparkled as he grinned and winked at the audience. He had an irresistible swagger of confidence as he went up to make a speech. And when he spoke, the whole audience was drawn in.

"Good pokemon of this island," he announced. "Today your leaders have officially declared war on Jaquie. Now make no mistake. War is harsh and violent and requires sacrifices. I apologize for bringing this terrible plague on you. But let me just say that there are some things worth fighting for. Things like freedom, equality, and happiness. Things Jaquie wishes to take away, not only from us, but from you now as well. And though the battle may be bitter, the victory will be far sweeter, because there are some principles which should never be threatened, and we will show this usurping, inhuman tyrant that we will not tolerate her slavery of the soul!"

Kris' speech was fine, but it was the way he said it that gathered the audience, panting and bright-eyed, around him. Kris was loud and gripping. His words rang through them with passion and conviction, uniting them all under the banner of war. He darted to and fro on the stage, gesturing broadly, with a contagious enthusiasm that soon infected all the pokemon. Karen, quiet and lyrical, had gathered them up, like pieces of wood, stick by stick; Kris lit a match and caught them all on fire.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident," he declared, almost shouting now. "That all men-and pokemon-are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Kris, animated, looked the pokemon right in the eye, emphasizing every word he spoke. "With your cooperation we will restore these rights to humans and pokemon forever!"

The audience roared. War was hot and dreamy in their minds. It was like being a story. This passionate young man. This beautiful young woman. (And it wasn't hard for the pokemon to start gossiping about a romance between them.) A war to bring peace. A chance to save the world. And though some of the older pokemon grumbled and fretted, most of the pokemon, restless after centuries of peace, were swept away by this fantastic quest that they had the honor to be part of.

At quarter to six, Karen had to struggle to rip Kris and the crowd away from each other. Kris had already enlisted the aid of several pokemon and was in the process of building an army. But army or no, curfew was curfew, and they couldn't be late. Kris gave the four leaders orders under his breath and got them to teleport them home. When they arrived at headquarters, his eyes were still shining.

"Well, that was fun," he said.

"Yes," Karen agreed. "I especially liked your speech."

Kris laughed. "Oh, yeah, my speech. It was pitiful, I know, but it was the best I could think of..."

"I wasn't being sarcastic, for once," Karen said. "It really was good. You incorporated the Constitution and everything."

"The Declaration of Independence," Kris corrected. "But thanks. I'm glad you liked it."

"You almost sounded like you believed it."

"Who's to say I didn't?"

Karen looked at him thoughtfully.

"Anyway, it feels good to pull off the impossible," said Kris, stretching out his arms. "I feel so alive right now! Like this should be a holiday. Victory over Pokemon day. What do you think?"

"I think you're hopeless," Karen said, shaking her head and smiling.

"Thank you," Kris grinned. "Just wait 'til Victory over Jaquie day."

. . .

Jaquie was trying to write a letter to her mother. She was failing miserably.

She had gotten halfway through the first draft, when she realized that the sentence she was writing was rambling on and on, taking up all the space of a paragraph without saying one clear and concise thing. So she crumpled it up and began again.

The next time she misspelled a word. As she crossed it out it left a conspicuous blue gash, like an ugly, raw scar, on the creamy page. She threw it away.

Then it was that her hand-writing had gotten unacceptably sloppy, so that draft went in the trash as well.

It was only a simple letter; not a law, not a bill, not a congregational address. Why couldn't she write it?

Her head began to buzz familiarly. She got a couple of aspirins and a glass of water, then put a new sheet of paper on her desk and readied her pen in her hand. For several minutes she sat there unmoving. The paper was blank. Its complexion was smooth, creamy, straight. There was no folded edge or stray mark. It was perfect.

Jaquie crumpled that up too and threw it against the wall.

No one else knew. The drive of perfection, the price she paid for it, so high for so little. Isolation and loneliness, the feeling of being locked away in a tower she herself had built. Day by day, she provoked people's hatred by challenging them to a perfection they had never dreamed of, then she absorbed their hatred, with all its bitterness, until it contaminated her own self-image. No one else saw the turmoil of emotions churning below the surface of her calm exterior, emotions that wouldn't go away, but kept brewing and brewing until she wanted to cry...

Jaquie realized that she was drawing thin, reedy breaths and that her eyes felt moist. No, she wouldn't cry. She had to be stronger than that. She held her head in her hand and squeezed her eyes shut.

No one could ever see who she was. That would be too painful. Slowly, she ground up the aspirins into a fine white powder with her forefinger and put her stationary away.

Jaquie went outside. It was a clear night, as velvet black as a panther at rest, with stars like dewdrops embellishing the sky. There was a light, cool breeze blowing. It sang and whispered to Jaquie, pushing back her hair and dancing on her skin.

Jaquie remembered an evening like this. For two dollars she'd purchased a laminated map of the constellations, and she and Nidorino had struggled to identify them. As she grew older, Jaquie pieced together enough Greek mythology to pour out stories about the different creatures in the sky. The recollection gave her a thrill of nostalgia. She used to look at the stars quite often when she was younger. It was only in recent years she stopped.

Impulsively, she reached for her pokeballs and dropped them to the ground one by one.

Leah came out last.

She was still musing about Nidorino's words, the weight of restraining device heavy on her skin. Nidorino might be right as far as his situation went; in his world perhaps a trainer was preferable to the anarchy of wild life. But not for her. Leah had grown up a citizen of a world where rights and responsibilities were hers to guard. She couldn't live without freedom; it was sewn into her spirit.

But as she came out of her pokeball, Leah sensed a change. First of all, it was night, and Jaquie almost never released them at night. Nor did she usually bring them all out at once, at least not without throwing them into the middle of a battle. Leah spotted the Pidgeot named Aren, her only ally in her planned insurrection. Aren flapped over, and to Leah's surprise, although Jaquie watched warily, she made no attempt to separate them. It was the first time in the last week they'd been permitted to talk.

Should we escape now? Aren asked.

Leah shook her head. No. Let me watch. Jaquie's acting strange, and I'm not sure what it means.

Jaquie's pokemon gathered around her to gaze at the stars. Nidorino in particular came close. He sidled up to her, and she put her arm around him and petted him, softly combing the tips of her fingers through the ends of his fur. It was strange. The two barely touched, but as they stared soundlessly at the far-distant stars, they seemed to connect just the same. It was some mutual understanding that Leah couldn't grasp.

"Nido; Nidorino," he whispered. Tell me again about the stars.

"I don't remember everything," Jaquie said. "It's been so long since... and I'm very rusty." She squinted at the sky. "But I'll try."

Slowly, at first, but picking up passion, Jaquie recounted the tales. She was a terrible story-teller. Her unwavering confidence had vanished, leaving Jaquie with a monotone voice, frequent pauses, and an inconsistent style. But as Jaquie abandoned her grating command voice for a softer gentler one, Leah could detect notes of harmony in it. Somehow, Jaquie became a real person instead of just a dictator.

Then suddenly Jaquie's voice came to a halt. Leah looked up. The human's blue eyes were fixed upon her.

Jaquie was thinking of Giovanni. The thought had wandered into her mind and ruined her mood. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, his presence came back to haunt her every movement and action. But sometimes she wondered if it was really him who haunted her and not a part of herself. She hated Giovanni just as she hated what she had become and sometimes that hatred blurred into one entity, inseparable.

Nidorina squirmed under her anchoring device. Jaquie knew that she couldn't even enjoy the simple happiness that she and her pokemon shared. Jaquie had stolen her freedom; she had forced her into battles she didn't want to fight; she had driven her hard in a quest to become stronger, stronger, STRONGER. Without even asking if Nidorina wanted to be stronger; without even giving her a choice.

Jaquie got up and walked up to Nidorina. The pokemon's breathing quickened and her eyes became alert. A quick pressing of the button, a mechanically spring, and Jaquie took off the restraining device. She left it on the ground near Nidorina.

Why, why, why? screamed the logical side of her, to which something that had remained dormant inside her replied, because I'm not Giovanni.

Leah looked at the device on the ground, uncomprehendingly. The human had taken it off her. Why? Was this some sort of trick? But Jaquie didn't seem poised to attack. She had rejoined Nidorino and started her story again.

You're free! Aren shrieked, fluttering in delight. Now our mutiny has a chance!

Nidorina tested her freedom. She practiced a dodge to the left and a dodge to the right. No heavy device hit against her skin, disrupted her balance. She ran, and her body was as light as a feather. She leapt and twirled and spun, with all her old agility and ease, and it suddenly came to her that she was free. Completely free, completely unburdened.

Come on, urged Aren. Let's start a battle now.

Why did she do this? Leah wondered.

Who cares? We need to free the other pokemon while Jaquie's guard is down.

Leah looked at the other pokemon. Heads facing the stars, they listened to Jaquie's stories. The forest was only a few feet away and no one seemed to care.

She shook her head. Freedom is a choice, and they've made theirs. They want to stay. Nothing we can do now can change that.

But we can still escape, Aren insisted.

Of course. I don't think she'll stop us....

Leah hesitated.

"Daedalus was a famous inventor in Greek mythology. He made a pair of wings made out of feathers and wax, and he and his son, Icarus, flew into the sky." Jaquie's voice was as calm as ever, but now there was a sweeter element to it. Her story drew Nidorina closer. "Daedalus warned the boy not to fly too close to the sun, for if he did the wax would melt and Icarus would plummet to his death..."

Leah! Aren said.

She turned to him. Aren, you go. I'm going to stay.

The shock in his eyes was apparent. But why?

Because right now, I don't want to escape.

She could change her mind at any time and put you back in the restraining device.

I know.

Then why, Leah?

Because that is what I choose to do.

Leah wandered over to where all the pokemon gathered, and sat down near Nidorino. He smiled at her, and they all listened intently at these foreign tales of human culture. After a while, Leah heard the rush of wings, and Aren wordlessly joined her. The stars in the night air and Jaquie's voice united them somehow in an invisible bond, in an unearthly peace.

And then a voice interrupted. "Hey you didn't forget about me did you?"

Jaquie smiled. "No, Jared, we didn't forget you? How could we?"

Jared held two cups of dark, steaming liquid. "Hot chocolate," he explained, handing Jaquie a cup. "I found a few packets in the bottom of the crate. I know you usually drink coffee, but I thought maybe this time..."

"This is fine," Jaquie said, taking a sip. "So, Jared, what do you know about the stars?"

"Not much, actually. We had a telescope at home, but I was more interested in taking it apart and putting it back together. But, hey, I know several sci-fi stories."

So Jared began his tales of traveling to the stars, and Jaquie leaned forward on her hand and listened. Birds chirped, insects buzzed, and the stars glowed. Nature was in balance as human and pokemon forgot their war and enjoyed the evening together.

. . .

END OF PART II

. . .

. . .

With the winter holidays coming up, I'm going to be busy with family stuff, so I'm going to take a break from editing this story (which has turned out to be a larger task than I thought). I'll return on December 28th and will start sending out the final 10 chapters at that time.

Thanks to all those who reviewed: Hopeless Awaiting, Flameboo, Adin Terim, Aura49, and especially Frittzy Crazy. I appreciate the support, which gets me through the hard times. A review can turn the bad days into good ones. I wish you a safe and happy holiday.