CHAPTER 4-ADVERSARY
Falcon was true to her word. Before dinner the next day, the doorbell rang and, knowing whom it was, Rasha ran to answer.
Rasha's friend was tall and slim with shoulder-length brown hair and deep, dark blue eyes that flashed out of a fair, tan face. A Pichu clung to her shoulder-a tiny rodent Pokémon with a yellow-furred body and large, triangular ears.
"Hi," Falcon greeted.
"Hi." Rasha smiled. "How was your trip?"
"Not bad." Falcon grinned back. "It's nice to see you again."
"Same here. Come on in."
Rasha stood aside to let Falcon edge in with the dark blue bag she wore slung over her shoulder. As she came inside, a strange Pokémon that Rasha hadn't noticed before followed cautiously. The Pokémon was shaped like a dog; diamond-shaped markings glowed against its shocking nail-blue fur. A mane of flowing purple fur that drifted along its back like a cape and two ribbon-like tails waving at either side of it gave it a floating appearance, as if it were walking on the bottom of a lake. A hard, elongated, crystalline crest on its head hooded its red-brown eyes. It was the most beautiful creature Rasha had ever laid eyes on.
"Oh, Falcon," Rasha breathed, barely resisting the urge to stroke the Pokémon's silky coat. "Where'd you get him?"
"Suicune was found injured and brought to me by a friend for medical care," Falcon replied. "He's very young. Over time, we became good friends."
"A Suicune?" Rasha exclaimed. "But. aren't they.?"
Falcon nodded. "I'm lucky to have him."
"I'll say." Rasha offered her knuckles so the Pokémon could get her scent. As if to humor her, Suicune smelled them with his delicate white nose and then allowed Rasha to stroke his crest, closing his eyes as the woman worked her fingers into his violet mane. The fur was incredibly soft, and Rasha's fingers swam through it with ease. "Are you. using him to battle?"
"Oh yes, very much so." Falcon grinned slyly. "Don't think he's just for looks-he's amazing on the battlefield."
"Chu," squeaked the Pichu on Falcon's shoulder. Smiling, Falcon reached up to stroke the little creature's head.
"Rasha?" Logan said inquiringly, entering the room with Isaiah on his shoulder. Catching sight of Falcon, he paused. "You must be Falcon."
"I am," she replied.
"I'm Logan," Logan said, carefully extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," said Falcon as they shook. "Is this Isaiah?"
Glancing at the little yellow bird on his shoulder, Logan nodded.
"Pi!" Pichu piped up, and he cautiously leaned forward to get a better look at Isaiah. The Zapdos's crest flattened a little as he noticed this new being staring at him.
Falcon slowly moved closer to Logan, sweeping her eyes up and down Isaiah's body. Isaiah peered back at her with his little black-brown eyes. "He looks like he's been well-cared for," Falcon said at last. "You've got him on formula, right?" Logan nodded. "Good," Falcon said. "Are you feeding him a little regular food in between, too?"
"A little," Logan said. "Usually I just feed him the regular Pokémon pellets, but sometimes I give him nuts or maybe fruit. He likes that."
"That's fine," Falcon replied. "He's old enough that he can start eating regular food, but don't take him off the formula until he's ready. Usually, they just stop being interested in the formula and begin to want more solid food. Before long, you can skip the formula feedings and he won't care at all."
"Okay," Logan replied.
Falcon smiled. "Bring him into the kitchen so I can take a look at him," she said, taking her blue bag and heading for the kitchen with Pichu on her shoulder and Suicune at her heels. After a slight pause, Logan followed, and Rasha trailed behind him.
Once in the kitchen, Logan gently plucked Isaiah off his shoulder and set him down on the table. Falcon took the seat across from him and rested her hand palm-up on the table. She began to speak quietly in a language that sounded like bird sounds turned into words, and there was another tone mixed in with the chirps, trills, and grunts-it reminded Logan a little of the noise Poliwhirl's Ice Beam attack had made when the tadpole Pokémon had frozen Opal in his battle with Rasha. At any rate, the noise seemed to interest Isaiah. He got up and waddled quickly toward Falcon, peeping curiously and studying the blue-eyed stranger with bright black eyes. Falcon motioned with her finger, speaking again in that strange mixture of noises. Logan and Rasha watched, spellbound, as Isaiah lifted first one foot and then the other while Falcon examined his talons. At another word from Falcon he rolled onto his back, letting Falcon check his weight by feeling how prominent his bones were.
"How are you making him do that?" Logan asked at last.
"Chicks always do what their elders tell them," was Falcon's reply. "At least, they're supposed to." She beckoned Isaiah closer. When the fledgling obeyed, she gently took hold of his wings, positioning them so they were partially spread, exposing a little of Isaiah's back. Using the forefinger and thumb of her right hand, she massaged both wings, running her fingers first in the direction of the feathers and then abruptly against them. Then she quickly dragged her fingertips along the lengths of the wings to join together in the middle. At once, tiny bolts of white electricity jumped out of either of Isaiah's wings, conjoining as they connected with Falcon's hand, the sudden crackling noise making both Rasha and Logan start. "Sugoi!" Falcon laughed, shaking her hand to relieve the tingling sensation. "Very good! You're going to be a great battler, Isaiah!" Isaiah's eyes became crescents, and he cheeped happily.
"He can use electricity?" Logan exclaimed.
"Not attacks. Not yet," Falcon told him. "I'm only checking to see how he's developing. At this rate, he'll be battling by the time he can fly."
Logan's eyes turned to space; they became distantly jade. "Battle," he thought aloud. "I hadn't thought about teaching him battling techniques."
"He'll be great," Falcon said. "His wings are developing beautifully, so he'll probably be fast. And judging by that jolt he just gave me, his special attacks are going to give a lot of trainers trouble."
Deciding Falcon had finished with him, Isaiah hop-ran over to Logan and cheeped insistently. "Hungry?" Logan inquired. "Alright. I'd better feed him."
"It's time for dinner," Rasha agreed. "Do you have any preferences?" she asked Falcon, who shrugged indifferently.
"Pi pichu chu pi pichu!" Pichu said.
"Nice try, Pichu," Falcon said. "I've already told you ice cream isn't for dinner."
"Chu?"
"Because it's not," Falcon replied matter-of-factly.
Drooping its ears, Pichu began to sulk. "Pichuuu."
Rasha laughed. "Maybe we can get ice cream after dinner."
Pichu perked up at this. "Pi!" he squeaked happily.
On Pichu's insistence, they ended up going out to dinner and then locating an ice cream parlor. While Pichu sat happily licking a cone of vanilla, the humans conversed.
"Look here," Falcon said, sliding back into the booth with a piece of paper in her hand, which she handed to Logan and Rasha to look at.
Logan studied the flier. "'Famous breeder to give lecture at Grapevine Museum'," he read.
"This Dr. Hazel is one of the top breeders in Johto," Falcon said. "Her expertise goes back to way before my time as a trainer. I suggest you hear what she has to say."
"This is tomorrow afternoon at 6," Rasha read. "I think we can make that. What do you think, Logan?"
"Couldn't hurt," Logan said. He turned to glance at Isaiah; the little bird, as always, perched on his shoulder.
"Well, that's settled then," said Rasha standing up.
The sky outside darkened, and the air grew crisp and clean. While they walked along the sidewalk toward the car, Falcon asked Logan a couple questions about Isaiah: how many times a day he fed the bird formula, how much he usually ate, questions about his behavior, and so forth. She asked what brand of formula he was using, and was quick to refer a better brand.
"The brand you're using is fine," she said, "but this one has better nutritional value. You might want to look into it."
"We're not far from the Trainer's Junction," Rasha put in. "We could go there now before we leave."
Logan shrugged. "Sure."
When they found the store, though, it turned out to be next to a custom Pokéball store that Falcon and Rasha both took an immediate interest in, so Logan ended up going in alone. After trying to locate a salesman, insisting that this was indeed the brand he wanted to buy rather than a more expensive one, and waiting in line to pay, Logan couldn't wait to get out.
Falcon and Rasha were still in the Pokéball place. Waiting, Logan wandered up and down the street with Isaiah, looking in store windows.
"Logan Matthews?"
Logan whirled around. The man who'd spoken to him was tall and gangly. His overhanging locks of brown hair shadowed his dark eyes, sunken into firm cheeks. The eyes themselves slanted inward toward a rigidly straight, short nose. Around his shoulders hung an unzipped jacket; the leather creaked when he swung his arms or bent at the waist.
"Well, well," the man murmured, advancing. "It is you. And here we all thought you were dead."
Logan swallowed. "Gordon. Surprised to see you here."
Gordon smiled tightly. "Likewise. I suppose you know everyone's given up searching for you."
Logan didn't answer.
The other man's eyes gleamed in the streetlights, shining out of the darkness cast by his brows and hair. Logan's body went rigid as he realized what Gordon's eyes had fixed on. "And where'd you acquired this treasure?" he gritted. "You've been holding out on us, Logan." His hand moved toward Isaiah.
Logan turned to the side and raised his hands threateningly. "Back off."
Gordon chuckled. "Idiot," he said. "Don't even know what you could've had, do you?" He leered wickedly. "Or. what some of us could still have. if we wanted it badly."
Furious, Logan shoved Gordon backward, forcing him to stumble backward and away from Logan's face. "You stay out of my way," he hissed fiercely. "You're not getting anything, Gordon."
"You sure you want to get into this with me?" Gordon hissed back, his hand going to his belt.
In a heartbeat, Logan seized Electra's Pokéball. "Don't be stupid. You know you don't stand a chance against me in a Pokémon battle."
Snarling, Gordon backed down, knowing his adversary was right and not liking to admit it. "Maybe so," he bit out. "But you can't hide forever. You're a damn fool, Logan. You better watch your back." He turned, pulling the collar of his jacket up higher but still not bothering to zip it. "You're a damn fool," he called as he walked away. "You'll see."
Logan sat quietly in the backseat of Rasha's car, staring hazily out the window as the vehicle hummed along the road to the museum, and tried to steady the growing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. In the front seats, his female companions chatted animatedly. Despite his paranoia, Logan hadn't told either of them anything about his encounter with Gordon. Whether from fear of worrying them or simply from diehard instinct, he'd kept his silence about the entire incident. Understandably, though, he couldn't help but wonder if this was wise. If Gordon and the other Rockets did decide to try something, his mind had tried to reason, it would help if Falcon and Rasha were on their guard as well. That thought alone opened his mouth to speak, but then he clamped it shut again. They're talking, he thought. Why interrupt them while they're talking? Besides. nothing's going to happen. I know Gordon-he talks, but not much else. I'm working myself up for nothing.
At length, the car stopped in the museum parking lot. Streams of people were already making their way through the front entrance.
"We're early," Falcon remarked. "We've still got a good twenty minutes before the lecture."
"Might as well look at all the exhibits, then," Rasha said.
The museum was so crowded, a body could scarcely turn around; the constant roar of noise about the place gradually settled into the background, an unnoticed drone. Jostling and shoving their way through the crowd of people-mostly young trainers and breeders-the company slowly moved along the rooms.
Logan halted suddenly; the gleam of fluorescent lights had made a display case catch his eye. He pushed closer to see and soon became absorbed in studying a collection of four Aerodactyl skulls. By the time he looked up, Rasha and Falcon had mysteriously vanished.
Oh great, Logan thought, rising up to his tiptoes to try and see over the sea of heads. "Rasha!" he called, elbowing his way forward. The power of hundreds of other voices combined all but swallowed his. "Falcon!" he called again, knowing it was in vain. "Rasha! Falcon!" He couldn't see them anywhere. "Dammit!" Logan yelled, stomping his foot.
"Ow!" Logan turned around to see a man hopping on one foot. A Murkrow, upset by his master's sudden movement, fluttered madly on his shoulder.
"Uh. sorry," Logan apologized. The man glared at him.
The Murkrow resettled itself and turned a keenly glittering eye on Logan. "Dammit!" it said cheerfully.
Logan hurried away.
Swearing loudly, he managed to move along at a fair enough pace. Poor Isaiah, frightened by all the noise and the jostling, hid in the collar of his shirt. Suddenly, he noticed a face in the crowd-Rasha's? He rose up on tiptoes.
Just then, all the lights in the building went out. Startled people screamed in surprise.
A loud voice rang out above the crowd: "Voltorb, Thunderwave!"
Logan tried to duck for cover as the first screams erupted, and soon he, too, screamed in pain as electricity rippled through his body. His legs inadvertently buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. Isaiah began to shriek in fear, huddling against Logan's neck.
Someone in the crowd reacted. "Pichu, Flash attack!"
"Pichuuu CHU!" A bright light filled the room. People gasped in surprise from their positions on the floor. Surprised looking men and woman in black uniforms, exposed by the light, guarded every exit to the museum. The red R was emblazoned on all their shirts.
"Attack!" The leader was unseen, but his command made all the Team Rocket members spring forward at once. People screamed and squirmed helplessly as the Rockets stripped them of their Pokéballs.
With great effort, Falcon managed to rise to her knees. She forced her stiff fingers to clutch a Pokéball, and her arm to fling it forward. "Skarmory!"
The huge steel bird appeared in midair. "Skar!"
"Swift attack!" Falcon ordered.
Skarmory opened her metal beak. Sparks of yellow light zipped from her throat, solidifying into star-shapes as they collided with the nearest Rocket member. As he cowered, trying to shield his head with his hands, Skarmory dove and sent him flying over the backs of the crowd. He hit the ground hard and didn't get up.
"Go, Koffing!"
Thick smoke crowded the room, choking everyone and making their eyes burn.
Weight slammed into Logan's back from behind. Roaring, Logan writhed furiously beneath his attacker. Cold hands shoved his head into the hard linoleum. Isaiah screamed.
"Suicune!" Falcon wheezed, letting the Pokéball roll weakly from her fingers. "Gust attack!"
Out of nowhere, a wind sprang up in the room, chasing the smoke out of the open windows.
Slowly, Logan opened his watering eyes; his chest burned fiercely from the Koffing's noxious attack. He felt as if someone had impaled him with a frozen knife.
The Rockets were gone. And so was Isaiah.
One of the museum staff must've called the paramedics. Aids from the Pokémon Center were called in with Paralyze Heal to cure the effects of the Thunderwave attack. Police cars also arrived on the scene to question the witnesses.
Having been treated, Rasha shoved her way through the crowd. "Logan!" she called.
Falcon tugged gently on Rasha's shoulder. "Over here," she said, pointing.
Rasha and Falcon shouldered between people. At last, two bodies moved apart to reveal the dark-haired man.
One look at Logan made Rasha's heart skip a beat. He didn't even have to speak for her to know that something devastating had happened to him-his wide, vacant eyes, two frozen ellipses, stared out of an ashen gray face. Stock-still he stood, hands dangling listlessly at his sides, staring into space as if someone had ripped some cord out of his brain and now he had shut down.
"What happened, Logan?" Rasha asked.
Logan, who looked as if he hadn't even seen the two women approach, very slowly turned his head. His eyes trailed behind his head's motion, hesitantly sliding upwards to meet Rasha's.
Rasha held her breath. His eyes had tears in them, and she already knew what she was going to hear.
Logan, who knew she knew, forced the words out anyway beyond his sorrow-choked throat. "They took him," he said solemnly, and then his face crumpled, his last courage shattered by the utterance. "They took him!" he sobbed fiercely, looking down.
Helplessly, her stomach sinking, Rasha turned to Falcon, but her friend had looked away.
"Logan." Rasha tried, but she stopped there. Words were lost to her.
Logan clenched his eyes shut, wrestling for control of his features. A half-sobbed mumble escaped him, unintelligible. Rasha didn't ask him to repeat it.
With a small sigh, Falcon carefully and firmly took Logan by the shoulder. "Let's go," she said to Rasha, her voice and face devoid of all emotion.
Numbly, wanting to protest, Rasha obeyed.
There was total silence on the drive home, as each human was submerged in his or her own solemn contemplation. Only the humming of the vehicle filled the boundless quiet. Alone in the backseat, Logan had ceased to cry, but he also refused to talk. Rasha stared sadly at his reflection in her rearview mirror out of the corner of her eye. He hadn't allowed himself to cry much. Falcon hadn't spoken to anyone, and as she fixed her gaze on a point beyond the car window, it was impossible to read her emotions.
They got out of the car when they reached their destination, filing into Rasha's house as quietly and somberly as a funeral procession. No one knew what to say to anyone.
At last, Rasha couldn't stand it anymore. "Logan, are you okay?" she asked.
Logan said nothing.
Rasha swallowed. "Logan."
"They stole him," he hissed, making Rasha start at the ferocity in his voice. "That. that. I knew." he stammered. "I'm such a jackass!"
Before Rasha could think of anything else to say, she was startled to see Falcon's piercing azure stare in front of Logan. "Did you know about this before hand?" she asked quietly.
Logan flinched and looked down in shame, biting his lip.
Falcon's eyes flickered. "When?"
"While you were in the store last night," he mumbled. "I ran into someone I knew from Team Rocket."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Rasha demanded a bit too sharply.
"I don't know," Logan moaned. "I don't know! I knew I should've. but." He paused. "I'm just so stupid!"
"Calm down," Falcon reasoned. "It's over and done with. let's just concentrate on getting Isaiah back."
Rasha swallowed, feeling her heart pick up pace. She had a distinct feeling of impending danger, but she also knew she couldn't refuse to help- no matter what. "That's right," she said confidently.
Logan locked gazes with her for a millisecond. Rasha held fast against his black-emerald stare, trying to communicate her conviction to the cause-that she would really do anything in her power to get the baby Zapdos back from Team Rocket.
"Now," Falcon began thoughtfully. "Do you know where they've taken him?"
"I guess. back to headquarters," Logan said slowly. "In Viridian City."
"Are you sure they wouldn't take him someplace closer?" Rasha inquired. "I've heard they have bases everywhere. even here in Johto."
Logan shook his head. "Not for something this big. Giovanni will want Isaiah there, in his stronghold, where he can keep a personal eye on him."
"Fine," Falcon murmured, her eyes glazing thoughtfully.
Logan and Rasha stared at Falcon, expecting an instantly formulated plan to come out of her mouth. Instead, she sighed and shook her head. "Give me the night to think about it," she said, starting for her sleeping roll. "Tomorrow, I promise I'll have thought of at least something." She hoisted her things and headed out of the room, with Pichu on her shoulder.
Rasha fidgeted anxiously, but she was also tired. "Come on, Logan," she said. "She's right. we should sleep before we do anything."
"I. guess so."
Rasha and Logan parted in the hallway, heading to their respective rooms, bending with the weight that had settled over the house.
Needless to say, Rasha couldn't sleep, no matter how long she lay awake. She threw the covers off and pulled them on again, over and over. It seemed like every time she stopped moving, the myriad of thoughts and worries came flooding back in an unstoppable multitude.
At last, Rasha impulsively flung off the covers and quietly left her room with the intention of going into the kitchen for some water. She wasn't really thirsty; she was just too restless to sleep, and getting water would give her an excuse to move around a little. Walking heel-toe to deaden the sound of her footsteps, she crept out into the hallway and turned into the living room. But as she tiptoed silently across the carpet, a previously unnoticed silhouette caught her eye. Rasha jumped, startled, but recovered quickly. The familiar shadow, resting in silent contemplation on the couch, was turned to face the window.
Rasha saddened. What could she say to Logan? She just didn't have the words for it, but she knew she had to try, and so she tentatively approached his dark figure in the night. Her reluctant throat let slip the whispered word, "Logan?"
Logan turned slowly. The streams of silver that glistened on his cheeks struck Rasha's heart painfully before he turned away in shame.
Rasha's words were stolen away again. "Are. you going to be okay?" she managed. It sounded so trite.
"Yes. I think so," was the soft reply.
Feeling helpless, Rasha started to leave. Just before she moved out of range, though, a cold and desperate hand seized her wrist.
"Stay," Logan whispered. "Please."
Her heart hammering, Rasha sat down on the couch next to him.
After a lengthy silence, Logan said, "I'm sorry. I just can't seem to hold it in any longer."
"No," Rasha whispered back. "It's all right. It's healthier if you just let it come, I think."
"I'm just so angry." Logan's voice was airy and distant. "I'm so mad at myself right now. I. I can't believe that I could." His throat closed off; the hand that rested near Rasha knotted into a hard fist.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Rasha tried to console him. "It's really not your fault Logan."
"Oh, Rasha," he said sorrowfully. "You don't even know the half of it."
Rasha's throat burned to ask for answers, but she sat silently, hoping that Logan would tell her on his own-it seemed like he would.
Logan sighed, looking down at his restless hands. "It was so long ago," he began slowly. "There had been sightings around this place for a long time now. legendary Pokémon were being seen around the mountain. So naturally, Team Rocket came to check it out. Six of us were sent here to search the mountain. Our only weapons were seizure guns. paralysis weapons, to immobilize the creatures so they could be captured. I didn't think anything of it. to me it was just another assignment. another paycheck.
"The group split up to cover more area. Most of them went to the surrounding area, where most of the sightings had been, but I wandered toward the mountain first. It wasn't long before. before I encountered the first Zapdos." He paused for a moment. Getting the story out, and precisely worded, was a struggle. Rasha gently rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to help him continue. Finally, Logan found his voice again.
"The Zapdos. it didn't see me at first. It was just flying around. circling, I guess. looking for prey, maybe. I don't know. Anyway, I hid in the bushes and when I had the opportunity I fired with the gun on a low power setting. I missed, and the Zapdos hurled a Thunderbolt at me. I got away from the first one and fired again, but the thing was flying around so fast, it kept dodging. It started dive-bombing me. tore my shoulder open with its talons. I started to get angry. even more when it hit me with its Thunderbolt. I fired again and again, running down my cartridge. Finally, I struck its wing, but the setting must have been too low. it didn't work. That's about when the second Zapdos showed up. Now there were two of them on me. I kept firing and getting nothing. they kept electrocuting me, again and again, and trying to rake my head with their talons. I was. furious. I just kept getting more and more angry, and finally. finally." Logan closed his eyes, his breath coming hard. "I. dropped out my cartridge. put in a new one. and I turned the setting up to a lethal level. And. I fired.
"The first shot just about tore the one bird's wing off. It swerved and started going down. I didn't stop firing. I shot again and again and again," Logan choked. "When the first Zapdos had crashed to the ground, I turned on the other one. it was trying to flee, but I hit it in the back. Its spine must have snapped. it jerked and just started falling, and while it fell I shot it again through the head." Tears were now streaming freely from Logan's eyes as he recounted the events. "One Zapdos had crashed into the trees. Its skull was completely smashed in. And the other one. the other one was." He sobbed.
Rasha moved very close to him and gently wound her arms around his shoulders, holding him close to her. She felt Logan's chest expand as he inhaled deeply and then released his air, relaxing into her grip. One of his hands slid over Rasha's clasped-together ones, gripping her fingers gently. "The worst part," he whispered, "was that even then, I didn't care. Even when I saw those mangled corpses-my doing-I didn't even feel like I'd done something wrong. That's. that's how inhuman I was. I didn't care about anything. anyone."
Rasha closed her eyes and leaned her head into his shoulder. He inclined his own head slightly, resting his cheek against her hair.
"It wasn't until I went back to the mountain to check for others," Logan whispered. "I found the cave, and inside was the abandoned nest. And in it was Isaiah. just a tiny ball of shaking yellow feathers. crying for the parents that would never return to feed their baby. And at that instant, I realized just how evil what I'd done was. And it wasn't just the Zapdos. it was everything. The stealing. my entire life on Team Rocket. everything I'd ever done had been. had been a sin. All I've ever done is hurt people. I felt. like a disease."
"No, Logan," Rasha whispered, reaching up to stroke his hair.
"Yes," he whispered back. "It's true. Everything I touch. it dies."
"That's not true," Rasha whispered.
"It is."
"No. Look at us now. You're touching me now, and I'm far from dying."
Logan was silent for a long while. His grip around Rasha's waist and shoulders tightened. "Thank you. For everything, Rasha."
Rasha closed her eyes. "I promise you, Logan," she said. "We'll get Isaiah back."
"I know, Rasha. I know."
Falcon was true to her word. Before dinner the next day, the doorbell rang and, knowing whom it was, Rasha ran to answer.
Rasha's friend was tall and slim with shoulder-length brown hair and deep, dark blue eyes that flashed out of a fair, tan face. A Pichu clung to her shoulder-a tiny rodent Pokémon with a yellow-furred body and large, triangular ears.
"Hi," Falcon greeted.
"Hi." Rasha smiled. "How was your trip?"
"Not bad." Falcon grinned back. "It's nice to see you again."
"Same here. Come on in."
Rasha stood aside to let Falcon edge in with the dark blue bag she wore slung over her shoulder. As she came inside, a strange Pokémon that Rasha hadn't noticed before followed cautiously. The Pokémon was shaped like a dog; diamond-shaped markings glowed against its shocking nail-blue fur. A mane of flowing purple fur that drifted along its back like a cape and two ribbon-like tails waving at either side of it gave it a floating appearance, as if it were walking on the bottom of a lake. A hard, elongated, crystalline crest on its head hooded its red-brown eyes. It was the most beautiful creature Rasha had ever laid eyes on.
"Oh, Falcon," Rasha breathed, barely resisting the urge to stroke the Pokémon's silky coat. "Where'd you get him?"
"Suicune was found injured and brought to me by a friend for medical care," Falcon replied. "He's very young. Over time, we became good friends."
"A Suicune?" Rasha exclaimed. "But. aren't they.?"
Falcon nodded. "I'm lucky to have him."
"I'll say." Rasha offered her knuckles so the Pokémon could get her scent. As if to humor her, Suicune smelled them with his delicate white nose and then allowed Rasha to stroke his crest, closing his eyes as the woman worked her fingers into his violet mane. The fur was incredibly soft, and Rasha's fingers swam through it with ease. "Are you. using him to battle?"
"Oh yes, very much so." Falcon grinned slyly. "Don't think he's just for looks-he's amazing on the battlefield."
"Chu," squeaked the Pichu on Falcon's shoulder. Smiling, Falcon reached up to stroke the little creature's head.
"Rasha?" Logan said inquiringly, entering the room with Isaiah on his shoulder. Catching sight of Falcon, he paused. "You must be Falcon."
"I am," she replied.
"I'm Logan," Logan said, carefully extending his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," said Falcon as they shook. "Is this Isaiah?"
Glancing at the little yellow bird on his shoulder, Logan nodded.
"Pi!" Pichu piped up, and he cautiously leaned forward to get a better look at Isaiah. The Zapdos's crest flattened a little as he noticed this new being staring at him.
Falcon slowly moved closer to Logan, sweeping her eyes up and down Isaiah's body. Isaiah peered back at her with his little black-brown eyes. "He looks like he's been well-cared for," Falcon said at last. "You've got him on formula, right?" Logan nodded. "Good," Falcon said. "Are you feeding him a little regular food in between, too?"
"A little," Logan said. "Usually I just feed him the regular Pokémon pellets, but sometimes I give him nuts or maybe fruit. He likes that."
"That's fine," Falcon replied. "He's old enough that he can start eating regular food, but don't take him off the formula until he's ready. Usually, they just stop being interested in the formula and begin to want more solid food. Before long, you can skip the formula feedings and he won't care at all."
"Okay," Logan replied.
Falcon smiled. "Bring him into the kitchen so I can take a look at him," she said, taking her blue bag and heading for the kitchen with Pichu on her shoulder and Suicune at her heels. After a slight pause, Logan followed, and Rasha trailed behind him.
Once in the kitchen, Logan gently plucked Isaiah off his shoulder and set him down on the table. Falcon took the seat across from him and rested her hand palm-up on the table. She began to speak quietly in a language that sounded like bird sounds turned into words, and there was another tone mixed in with the chirps, trills, and grunts-it reminded Logan a little of the noise Poliwhirl's Ice Beam attack had made when the tadpole Pokémon had frozen Opal in his battle with Rasha. At any rate, the noise seemed to interest Isaiah. He got up and waddled quickly toward Falcon, peeping curiously and studying the blue-eyed stranger with bright black eyes. Falcon motioned with her finger, speaking again in that strange mixture of noises. Logan and Rasha watched, spellbound, as Isaiah lifted first one foot and then the other while Falcon examined his talons. At another word from Falcon he rolled onto his back, letting Falcon check his weight by feeling how prominent his bones were.
"How are you making him do that?" Logan asked at last.
"Chicks always do what their elders tell them," was Falcon's reply. "At least, they're supposed to." She beckoned Isaiah closer. When the fledgling obeyed, she gently took hold of his wings, positioning them so they were partially spread, exposing a little of Isaiah's back. Using the forefinger and thumb of her right hand, she massaged both wings, running her fingers first in the direction of the feathers and then abruptly against them. Then she quickly dragged her fingertips along the lengths of the wings to join together in the middle. At once, tiny bolts of white electricity jumped out of either of Isaiah's wings, conjoining as they connected with Falcon's hand, the sudden crackling noise making both Rasha and Logan start. "Sugoi!" Falcon laughed, shaking her hand to relieve the tingling sensation. "Very good! You're going to be a great battler, Isaiah!" Isaiah's eyes became crescents, and he cheeped happily.
"He can use electricity?" Logan exclaimed.
"Not attacks. Not yet," Falcon told him. "I'm only checking to see how he's developing. At this rate, he'll be battling by the time he can fly."
Logan's eyes turned to space; they became distantly jade. "Battle," he thought aloud. "I hadn't thought about teaching him battling techniques."
"He'll be great," Falcon said. "His wings are developing beautifully, so he'll probably be fast. And judging by that jolt he just gave me, his special attacks are going to give a lot of trainers trouble."
Deciding Falcon had finished with him, Isaiah hop-ran over to Logan and cheeped insistently. "Hungry?" Logan inquired. "Alright. I'd better feed him."
"It's time for dinner," Rasha agreed. "Do you have any preferences?" she asked Falcon, who shrugged indifferently.
"Pi pichu chu pi pichu!" Pichu said.
"Nice try, Pichu," Falcon said. "I've already told you ice cream isn't for dinner."
"Chu?"
"Because it's not," Falcon replied matter-of-factly.
Drooping its ears, Pichu began to sulk. "Pichuuu."
Rasha laughed. "Maybe we can get ice cream after dinner."
Pichu perked up at this. "Pi!" he squeaked happily.
On Pichu's insistence, they ended up going out to dinner and then locating an ice cream parlor. While Pichu sat happily licking a cone of vanilla, the humans conversed.
"Look here," Falcon said, sliding back into the booth with a piece of paper in her hand, which she handed to Logan and Rasha to look at.
Logan studied the flier. "'Famous breeder to give lecture at Grapevine Museum'," he read.
"This Dr. Hazel is one of the top breeders in Johto," Falcon said. "Her expertise goes back to way before my time as a trainer. I suggest you hear what she has to say."
"This is tomorrow afternoon at 6," Rasha read. "I think we can make that. What do you think, Logan?"
"Couldn't hurt," Logan said. He turned to glance at Isaiah; the little bird, as always, perched on his shoulder.
"Well, that's settled then," said Rasha standing up.
The sky outside darkened, and the air grew crisp and clean. While they walked along the sidewalk toward the car, Falcon asked Logan a couple questions about Isaiah: how many times a day he fed the bird formula, how much he usually ate, questions about his behavior, and so forth. She asked what brand of formula he was using, and was quick to refer a better brand.
"The brand you're using is fine," she said, "but this one has better nutritional value. You might want to look into it."
"We're not far from the Trainer's Junction," Rasha put in. "We could go there now before we leave."
Logan shrugged. "Sure."
When they found the store, though, it turned out to be next to a custom Pokéball store that Falcon and Rasha both took an immediate interest in, so Logan ended up going in alone. After trying to locate a salesman, insisting that this was indeed the brand he wanted to buy rather than a more expensive one, and waiting in line to pay, Logan couldn't wait to get out.
Falcon and Rasha were still in the Pokéball place. Waiting, Logan wandered up and down the street with Isaiah, looking in store windows.
"Logan Matthews?"
Logan whirled around. The man who'd spoken to him was tall and gangly. His overhanging locks of brown hair shadowed his dark eyes, sunken into firm cheeks. The eyes themselves slanted inward toward a rigidly straight, short nose. Around his shoulders hung an unzipped jacket; the leather creaked when he swung his arms or bent at the waist.
"Well, well," the man murmured, advancing. "It is you. And here we all thought you were dead."
Logan swallowed. "Gordon. Surprised to see you here."
Gordon smiled tightly. "Likewise. I suppose you know everyone's given up searching for you."
Logan didn't answer.
The other man's eyes gleamed in the streetlights, shining out of the darkness cast by his brows and hair. Logan's body went rigid as he realized what Gordon's eyes had fixed on. "And where'd you acquired this treasure?" he gritted. "You've been holding out on us, Logan." His hand moved toward Isaiah.
Logan turned to the side and raised his hands threateningly. "Back off."
Gordon chuckled. "Idiot," he said. "Don't even know what you could've had, do you?" He leered wickedly. "Or. what some of us could still have. if we wanted it badly."
Furious, Logan shoved Gordon backward, forcing him to stumble backward and away from Logan's face. "You stay out of my way," he hissed fiercely. "You're not getting anything, Gordon."
"You sure you want to get into this with me?" Gordon hissed back, his hand going to his belt.
In a heartbeat, Logan seized Electra's Pokéball. "Don't be stupid. You know you don't stand a chance against me in a Pokémon battle."
Snarling, Gordon backed down, knowing his adversary was right and not liking to admit it. "Maybe so," he bit out. "But you can't hide forever. You're a damn fool, Logan. You better watch your back." He turned, pulling the collar of his jacket up higher but still not bothering to zip it. "You're a damn fool," he called as he walked away. "You'll see."
Logan sat quietly in the backseat of Rasha's car, staring hazily out the window as the vehicle hummed along the road to the museum, and tried to steady the growing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. In the front seats, his female companions chatted animatedly. Despite his paranoia, Logan hadn't told either of them anything about his encounter with Gordon. Whether from fear of worrying them or simply from diehard instinct, he'd kept his silence about the entire incident. Understandably, though, he couldn't help but wonder if this was wise. If Gordon and the other Rockets did decide to try something, his mind had tried to reason, it would help if Falcon and Rasha were on their guard as well. That thought alone opened his mouth to speak, but then he clamped it shut again. They're talking, he thought. Why interrupt them while they're talking? Besides. nothing's going to happen. I know Gordon-he talks, but not much else. I'm working myself up for nothing.
At length, the car stopped in the museum parking lot. Streams of people were already making their way through the front entrance.
"We're early," Falcon remarked. "We've still got a good twenty minutes before the lecture."
"Might as well look at all the exhibits, then," Rasha said.
The museum was so crowded, a body could scarcely turn around; the constant roar of noise about the place gradually settled into the background, an unnoticed drone. Jostling and shoving their way through the crowd of people-mostly young trainers and breeders-the company slowly moved along the rooms.
Logan halted suddenly; the gleam of fluorescent lights had made a display case catch his eye. He pushed closer to see and soon became absorbed in studying a collection of four Aerodactyl skulls. By the time he looked up, Rasha and Falcon had mysteriously vanished.
Oh great, Logan thought, rising up to his tiptoes to try and see over the sea of heads. "Rasha!" he called, elbowing his way forward. The power of hundreds of other voices combined all but swallowed his. "Falcon!" he called again, knowing it was in vain. "Rasha! Falcon!" He couldn't see them anywhere. "Dammit!" Logan yelled, stomping his foot.
"Ow!" Logan turned around to see a man hopping on one foot. A Murkrow, upset by his master's sudden movement, fluttered madly on his shoulder.
"Uh. sorry," Logan apologized. The man glared at him.
The Murkrow resettled itself and turned a keenly glittering eye on Logan. "Dammit!" it said cheerfully.
Logan hurried away.
Swearing loudly, he managed to move along at a fair enough pace. Poor Isaiah, frightened by all the noise and the jostling, hid in the collar of his shirt. Suddenly, he noticed a face in the crowd-Rasha's? He rose up on tiptoes.
Just then, all the lights in the building went out. Startled people screamed in surprise.
A loud voice rang out above the crowd: "Voltorb, Thunderwave!"
Logan tried to duck for cover as the first screams erupted, and soon he, too, screamed in pain as electricity rippled through his body. His legs inadvertently buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. Isaiah began to shriek in fear, huddling against Logan's neck.
Someone in the crowd reacted. "Pichu, Flash attack!"
"Pichuuu CHU!" A bright light filled the room. People gasped in surprise from their positions on the floor. Surprised looking men and woman in black uniforms, exposed by the light, guarded every exit to the museum. The red R was emblazoned on all their shirts.
"Attack!" The leader was unseen, but his command made all the Team Rocket members spring forward at once. People screamed and squirmed helplessly as the Rockets stripped them of their Pokéballs.
With great effort, Falcon managed to rise to her knees. She forced her stiff fingers to clutch a Pokéball, and her arm to fling it forward. "Skarmory!"
The huge steel bird appeared in midair. "Skar!"
"Swift attack!" Falcon ordered.
Skarmory opened her metal beak. Sparks of yellow light zipped from her throat, solidifying into star-shapes as they collided with the nearest Rocket member. As he cowered, trying to shield his head with his hands, Skarmory dove and sent him flying over the backs of the crowd. He hit the ground hard and didn't get up.
"Go, Koffing!"
Thick smoke crowded the room, choking everyone and making their eyes burn.
Weight slammed into Logan's back from behind. Roaring, Logan writhed furiously beneath his attacker. Cold hands shoved his head into the hard linoleum. Isaiah screamed.
"Suicune!" Falcon wheezed, letting the Pokéball roll weakly from her fingers. "Gust attack!"
Out of nowhere, a wind sprang up in the room, chasing the smoke out of the open windows.
Slowly, Logan opened his watering eyes; his chest burned fiercely from the Koffing's noxious attack. He felt as if someone had impaled him with a frozen knife.
The Rockets were gone. And so was Isaiah.
One of the museum staff must've called the paramedics. Aids from the Pokémon Center were called in with Paralyze Heal to cure the effects of the Thunderwave attack. Police cars also arrived on the scene to question the witnesses.
Having been treated, Rasha shoved her way through the crowd. "Logan!" she called.
Falcon tugged gently on Rasha's shoulder. "Over here," she said, pointing.
Rasha and Falcon shouldered between people. At last, two bodies moved apart to reveal the dark-haired man.
One look at Logan made Rasha's heart skip a beat. He didn't even have to speak for her to know that something devastating had happened to him-his wide, vacant eyes, two frozen ellipses, stared out of an ashen gray face. Stock-still he stood, hands dangling listlessly at his sides, staring into space as if someone had ripped some cord out of his brain and now he had shut down.
"What happened, Logan?" Rasha asked.
Logan, who looked as if he hadn't even seen the two women approach, very slowly turned his head. His eyes trailed behind his head's motion, hesitantly sliding upwards to meet Rasha's.
Rasha held her breath. His eyes had tears in them, and she already knew what she was going to hear.
Logan, who knew she knew, forced the words out anyway beyond his sorrow-choked throat. "They took him," he said solemnly, and then his face crumpled, his last courage shattered by the utterance. "They took him!" he sobbed fiercely, looking down.
Helplessly, her stomach sinking, Rasha turned to Falcon, but her friend had looked away.
"Logan." Rasha tried, but she stopped there. Words were lost to her.
Logan clenched his eyes shut, wrestling for control of his features. A half-sobbed mumble escaped him, unintelligible. Rasha didn't ask him to repeat it.
With a small sigh, Falcon carefully and firmly took Logan by the shoulder. "Let's go," she said to Rasha, her voice and face devoid of all emotion.
Numbly, wanting to protest, Rasha obeyed.
There was total silence on the drive home, as each human was submerged in his or her own solemn contemplation. Only the humming of the vehicle filled the boundless quiet. Alone in the backseat, Logan had ceased to cry, but he also refused to talk. Rasha stared sadly at his reflection in her rearview mirror out of the corner of her eye. He hadn't allowed himself to cry much. Falcon hadn't spoken to anyone, and as she fixed her gaze on a point beyond the car window, it was impossible to read her emotions.
They got out of the car when they reached their destination, filing into Rasha's house as quietly and somberly as a funeral procession. No one knew what to say to anyone.
At last, Rasha couldn't stand it anymore. "Logan, are you okay?" she asked.
Logan said nothing.
Rasha swallowed. "Logan."
"They stole him," he hissed, making Rasha start at the ferocity in his voice. "That. that. I knew." he stammered. "I'm such a jackass!"
Before Rasha could think of anything else to say, she was startled to see Falcon's piercing azure stare in front of Logan. "Did you know about this before hand?" she asked quietly.
Logan flinched and looked down in shame, biting his lip.
Falcon's eyes flickered. "When?"
"While you were in the store last night," he mumbled. "I ran into someone I knew from Team Rocket."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Rasha demanded a bit too sharply.
"I don't know," Logan moaned. "I don't know! I knew I should've. but." He paused. "I'm just so stupid!"
"Calm down," Falcon reasoned. "It's over and done with. let's just concentrate on getting Isaiah back."
Rasha swallowed, feeling her heart pick up pace. She had a distinct feeling of impending danger, but she also knew she couldn't refuse to help- no matter what. "That's right," she said confidently.
Logan locked gazes with her for a millisecond. Rasha held fast against his black-emerald stare, trying to communicate her conviction to the cause-that she would really do anything in her power to get the baby Zapdos back from Team Rocket.
"Now," Falcon began thoughtfully. "Do you know where they've taken him?"
"I guess. back to headquarters," Logan said slowly. "In Viridian City."
"Are you sure they wouldn't take him someplace closer?" Rasha inquired. "I've heard they have bases everywhere. even here in Johto."
Logan shook his head. "Not for something this big. Giovanni will want Isaiah there, in his stronghold, where he can keep a personal eye on him."
"Fine," Falcon murmured, her eyes glazing thoughtfully.
Logan and Rasha stared at Falcon, expecting an instantly formulated plan to come out of her mouth. Instead, she sighed and shook her head. "Give me the night to think about it," she said, starting for her sleeping roll. "Tomorrow, I promise I'll have thought of at least something." She hoisted her things and headed out of the room, with Pichu on her shoulder.
Rasha fidgeted anxiously, but she was also tired. "Come on, Logan," she said. "She's right. we should sleep before we do anything."
"I. guess so."
Rasha and Logan parted in the hallway, heading to their respective rooms, bending with the weight that had settled over the house.
Needless to say, Rasha couldn't sleep, no matter how long she lay awake. She threw the covers off and pulled them on again, over and over. It seemed like every time she stopped moving, the myriad of thoughts and worries came flooding back in an unstoppable multitude.
At last, Rasha impulsively flung off the covers and quietly left her room with the intention of going into the kitchen for some water. She wasn't really thirsty; she was just too restless to sleep, and getting water would give her an excuse to move around a little. Walking heel-toe to deaden the sound of her footsteps, she crept out into the hallway and turned into the living room. But as she tiptoed silently across the carpet, a previously unnoticed silhouette caught her eye. Rasha jumped, startled, but recovered quickly. The familiar shadow, resting in silent contemplation on the couch, was turned to face the window.
Rasha saddened. What could she say to Logan? She just didn't have the words for it, but she knew she had to try, and so she tentatively approached his dark figure in the night. Her reluctant throat let slip the whispered word, "Logan?"
Logan turned slowly. The streams of silver that glistened on his cheeks struck Rasha's heart painfully before he turned away in shame.
Rasha's words were stolen away again. "Are. you going to be okay?" she managed. It sounded so trite.
"Yes. I think so," was the soft reply.
Feeling helpless, Rasha started to leave. Just before she moved out of range, though, a cold and desperate hand seized her wrist.
"Stay," Logan whispered. "Please."
Her heart hammering, Rasha sat down on the couch next to him.
After a lengthy silence, Logan said, "I'm sorry. I just can't seem to hold it in any longer."
"No," Rasha whispered back. "It's all right. It's healthier if you just let it come, I think."
"I'm just so angry." Logan's voice was airy and distant. "I'm so mad at myself right now. I. I can't believe that I could." His throat closed off; the hand that rested near Rasha knotted into a hard fist.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Rasha tried to console him. "It's really not your fault Logan."
"Oh, Rasha," he said sorrowfully. "You don't even know the half of it."
Rasha's throat burned to ask for answers, but she sat silently, hoping that Logan would tell her on his own-it seemed like he would.
Logan sighed, looking down at his restless hands. "It was so long ago," he began slowly. "There had been sightings around this place for a long time now. legendary Pokémon were being seen around the mountain. So naturally, Team Rocket came to check it out. Six of us were sent here to search the mountain. Our only weapons were seizure guns. paralysis weapons, to immobilize the creatures so they could be captured. I didn't think anything of it. to me it was just another assignment. another paycheck.
"The group split up to cover more area. Most of them went to the surrounding area, where most of the sightings had been, but I wandered toward the mountain first. It wasn't long before. before I encountered the first Zapdos." He paused for a moment. Getting the story out, and precisely worded, was a struggle. Rasha gently rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to help him continue. Finally, Logan found his voice again.
"The Zapdos. it didn't see me at first. It was just flying around. circling, I guess. looking for prey, maybe. I don't know. Anyway, I hid in the bushes and when I had the opportunity I fired with the gun on a low power setting. I missed, and the Zapdos hurled a Thunderbolt at me. I got away from the first one and fired again, but the thing was flying around so fast, it kept dodging. It started dive-bombing me. tore my shoulder open with its talons. I started to get angry. even more when it hit me with its Thunderbolt. I fired again and again, running down my cartridge. Finally, I struck its wing, but the setting must have been too low. it didn't work. That's about when the second Zapdos showed up. Now there were two of them on me. I kept firing and getting nothing. they kept electrocuting me, again and again, and trying to rake my head with their talons. I was. furious. I just kept getting more and more angry, and finally. finally." Logan closed his eyes, his breath coming hard. "I. dropped out my cartridge. put in a new one. and I turned the setting up to a lethal level. And. I fired.
"The first shot just about tore the one bird's wing off. It swerved and started going down. I didn't stop firing. I shot again and again and again," Logan choked. "When the first Zapdos had crashed to the ground, I turned on the other one. it was trying to flee, but I hit it in the back. Its spine must have snapped. it jerked and just started falling, and while it fell I shot it again through the head." Tears were now streaming freely from Logan's eyes as he recounted the events. "One Zapdos had crashed into the trees. Its skull was completely smashed in. And the other one. the other one was." He sobbed.
Rasha moved very close to him and gently wound her arms around his shoulders, holding him close to her. She felt Logan's chest expand as he inhaled deeply and then released his air, relaxing into her grip. One of his hands slid over Rasha's clasped-together ones, gripping her fingers gently. "The worst part," he whispered, "was that even then, I didn't care. Even when I saw those mangled corpses-my doing-I didn't even feel like I'd done something wrong. That's. that's how inhuman I was. I didn't care about anything. anyone."
Rasha closed her eyes and leaned her head into his shoulder. He inclined his own head slightly, resting his cheek against her hair.
"It wasn't until I went back to the mountain to check for others," Logan whispered. "I found the cave, and inside was the abandoned nest. And in it was Isaiah. just a tiny ball of shaking yellow feathers. crying for the parents that would never return to feed their baby. And at that instant, I realized just how evil what I'd done was. And it wasn't just the Zapdos. it was everything. The stealing. my entire life on Team Rocket. everything I'd ever done had been. had been a sin. All I've ever done is hurt people. I felt. like a disease."
"No, Logan," Rasha whispered, reaching up to stroke his hair.
"Yes," he whispered back. "It's true. Everything I touch. it dies."
"That's not true," Rasha whispered.
"It is."
"No. Look at us now. You're touching me now, and I'm far from dying."
Logan was silent for a long while. His grip around Rasha's waist and shoulders tightened. "Thank you. For everything, Rasha."
Rasha closed her eyes. "I promise you, Logan," she said. "We'll get Isaiah back."
"I know, Rasha. I know."