Chapter 4
Hyltik waved a claw in the direction of two giant shells planted in front of his desk. They were each about as big as a water heater and colored in browns and whites with splotches of red and pink. "Please, have a seat."
Mike sat down on one of the shells and spoke "Well, it's a weird story actually. You see, my Treecko...he died. It was strange, I had never heard a pokémon talk before but he spoke his last request to me in plain English...his request was that I come see you."
"Did he tell you his name?" At this Hyltik flipped on his computer.
"No"
"Where do you live?"
"2897 West Arbor Street Vermilion city"
"And how old is your Treecko?"
"Um, I caught him when I was 12 and I'm 21 now so that would make him about 15. Why?"
The Crawdaunt stared at the monitor, "Well, is this him?" He said turning around the screen to show a picture of Mike's Treecko.
"YES! It is! How could you tell?"
"Well, we keep tabs. I suppose you are not familiar with where pokémon come from are you?" Mike shook his head. "Well, obviously, most hatch from eggs laid by there parents, others, like your Treecko...didn't. What I'm telling you now is top secret so you can guess the kind of secrecy we like to keep about this. You see, not all pokémon can talk. Those that hatch from eggs most of the time don't, if only because they never learn how. Others, like your Treecko, my mother, who insisted on my knowing, and that Nidorina you met all know how because they already knew. I would tell you more but this is all I know myself, it's a closely guarded secret of how known only by those who are "natural" speakers, as we "non-natural" speakers call them. Anyway, the point of this is that I believe your friend Treecko, who was a natural speaker has "recommended" you.
"Recommended? What does that mean?" Mike asked.
"Well, normally I you are not my department. What happens to those who are "recommended" I don't know, all I know is they go off to somewhere else never to be heard from again, really hush hush you realize. But, on some recent orders from higher up I'm supposed to get you ready for something else." The Kingler scuttled around the edges of the desk and over towards the door. "Follow me".
The man in the overcoat pulled his stethoscope away from the door. "Quick like! Let's move."
"Over in this closet" whispered the woman from behind a nearby door. The two scrambled into the closet and closed the door quietly just as Hyltik opened his door. The man opened his coat, revealing a red button. His finger drew near is silently and with a tiny click the he depressed the button.
Mike followed Hyltik down the hall to another room. All the time Hyltik chattered away. "You see, we've been having a little problem. Word is that the secret has been leaked and that this underground pokémon organization has been discovered. We want to take preemptive action. We have the strength and capability but we don't know what to hit yet. That's where you come in. In a mission like this pokémon would stick out like a sore thumb, and our supply of human power is very low. That's why all our "recommendeds" have been diverted my way." They stopped in front of a nondescript brown wooden door. "This way." Hyltik opened the door and ushered in Mike but stayed out himself. Once inside the room Mike looked around. The room was dingy and dank. Like a cellar over winter. On the wall was a large chalk board and a single fluorescent light bulb lit the room. A voice from his side called out to him.
"Why hello, I'm Chester. You and I will get to know each other very well." Chester, once Mike had turned around, turned out to be a slender, thinly built, blonde haired man probably in his mid thirties. He was wearing a brown shirt and pants and had a black tie, making him look awfully military.
"Oh, hello," Mike said, somewhat surprised "didn't see you there."
"Oh, that's alright. I guess you've been sent for training?"
"Training?"
"Yes, I'll make a spy out of you yet. They give me tough cases but I haven't failed yet to produce at least semi-competent spies in around a week."
"A week?" This was getting weirder by the second Mike thought. How unbelievable was this? One day he waking up mourning the loss of his dead friend and eating a bowl of Cheerios and that afternoon he's training to be a spy for a super-secret underground organization of pokémon so they can prevent someone from finding out about them? It was like something out of a badly written piece of fan fiction.
"Yes, a week, we need you as quickly as possible. Do you accept?"
"Uh...I guess so."
"That's good, you'll need to keep up so to quick pace so we best get started." Suddenly the door burst open and three men clad in black with giant R's on their uniforms rushed in, each carrying a handgun. "On the floor now!" Ordered one.
"You'll never take me alive." Chester cried and leapt at the first man in a stunning tackle that brought the man to the ground, his gun spinning across the floor towards Mike.
Everything happened in a flash, Chester started berated the grunt across the face with his fist, the other two grunts lifted their guns and opened fire as Mike scrambled for the gun. He snatched it up and let off three shots. It was like a blur, when he got to his feet, he quickly surveyed the carnage at his feet and without a word leapt out of the room. The hall was dark, and Mike could vividly hear screams coming from all around. He ducked behind the door to a nearby office as several more grunts carrying guns rushed by. A warning bell sounded, "how informative" he muttered to himself. He got out from behind the door and ran further down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going but to go back the way he came was were all the action was, and quite frankly, he wanted out. This wasn't his fight, why should he be mixed up in it. He ran around a corner and bumped into something fleshy.
Hyltik waved a claw in the direction of two giant shells planted in front of his desk. They were each about as big as a water heater and colored in browns and whites with splotches of red and pink. "Please, have a seat."
Mike sat down on one of the shells and spoke "Well, it's a weird story actually. You see, my Treecko...he died. It was strange, I had never heard a pokémon talk before but he spoke his last request to me in plain English...his request was that I come see you."
"Did he tell you his name?" At this Hyltik flipped on his computer.
"No"
"Where do you live?"
"2897 West Arbor Street Vermilion city"
"And how old is your Treecko?"
"Um, I caught him when I was 12 and I'm 21 now so that would make him about 15. Why?"
The Crawdaunt stared at the monitor, "Well, is this him?" He said turning around the screen to show a picture of Mike's Treecko.
"YES! It is! How could you tell?"
"Well, we keep tabs. I suppose you are not familiar with where pokémon come from are you?" Mike shook his head. "Well, obviously, most hatch from eggs laid by there parents, others, like your Treecko...didn't. What I'm telling you now is top secret so you can guess the kind of secrecy we like to keep about this. You see, not all pokémon can talk. Those that hatch from eggs most of the time don't, if only because they never learn how. Others, like your Treecko, my mother, who insisted on my knowing, and that Nidorina you met all know how because they already knew. I would tell you more but this is all I know myself, it's a closely guarded secret of how known only by those who are "natural" speakers, as we "non-natural" speakers call them. Anyway, the point of this is that I believe your friend Treecko, who was a natural speaker has "recommended" you.
"Recommended? What does that mean?" Mike asked.
"Well, normally I you are not my department. What happens to those who are "recommended" I don't know, all I know is they go off to somewhere else never to be heard from again, really hush hush you realize. But, on some recent orders from higher up I'm supposed to get you ready for something else." The Kingler scuttled around the edges of the desk and over towards the door. "Follow me".
The man in the overcoat pulled his stethoscope away from the door. "Quick like! Let's move."
"Over in this closet" whispered the woman from behind a nearby door. The two scrambled into the closet and closed the door quietly just as Hyltik opened his door. The man opened his coat, revealing a red button. His finger drew near is silently and with a tiny click the he depressed the button.
Mike followed Hyltik down the hall to another room. All the time Hyltik chattered away. "You see, we've been having a little problem. Word is that the secret has been leaked and that this underground pokémon organization has been discovered. We want to take preemptive action. We have the strength and capability but we don't know what to hit yet. That's where you come in. In a mission like this pokémon would stick out like a sore thumb, and our supply of human power is very low. That's why all our "recommendeds" have been diverted my way." They stopped in front of a nondescript brown wooden door. "This way." Hyltik opened the door and ushered in Mike but stayed out himself. Once inside the room Mike looked around. The room was dingy and dank. Like a cellar over winter. On the wall was a large chalk board and a single fluorescent light bulb lit the room. A voice from his side called out to him.
"Why hello, I'm Chester. You and I will get to know each other very well." Chester, once Mike had turned around, turned out to be a slender, thinly built, blonde haired man probably in his mid thirties. He was wearing a brown shirt and pants and had a black tie, making him look awfully military.
"Oh, hello," Mike said, somewhat surprised "didn't see you there."
"Oh, that's alright. I guess you've been sent for training?"
"Training?"
"Yes, I'll make a spy out of you yet. They give me tough cases but I haven't failed yet to produce at least semi-competent spies in around a week."
"A week?" This was getting weirder by the second Mike thought. How unbelievable was this? One day he waking up mourning the loss of his dead friend and eating a bowl of Cheerios and that afternoon he's training to be a spy for a super-secret underground organization of pokémon so they can prevent someone from finding out about them? It was like something out of a badly written piece of fan fiction.
"Yes, a week, we need you as quickly as possible. Do you accept?"
"Uh...I guess so."
"That's good, you'll need to keep up so to quick pace so we best get started." Suddenly the door burst open and three men clad in black with giant R's on their uniforms rushed in, each carrying a handgun. "On the floor now!" Ordered one.
"You'll never take me alive." Chester cried and leapt at the first man in a stunning tackle that brought the man to the ground, his gun spinning across the floor towards Mike.
Everything happened in a flash, Chester started berated the grunt across the face with his fist, the other two grunts lifted their guns and opened fire as Mike scrambled for the gun. He snatched it up and let off three shots. It was like a blur, when he got to his feet, he quickly surveyed the carnage at his feet and without a word leapt out of the room. The hall was dark, and Mike could vividly hear screams coming from all around. He ducked behind the door to a nearby office as several more grunts carrying guns rushed by. A warning bell sounded, "how informative" he muttered to himself. He got out from behind the door and ran further down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going but to go back the way he came was were all the action was, and quite frankly, he wanted out. This wasn't his fight, why should he be mixed up in it. He ran around a corner and bumped into something fleshy.