Chapter Three.
Lawrence.
Later on that same day, Lawrence the Third contacted Shamouti Island to tell them he was coming into land in about half-an-hour. As he was doing so, he saw, to his astonishment, Articuno go winging past his machine, calling loudly, and then swooping low over the Slowking's shrine, where there seemed to be a localised patch of inclement weather. Moltres and Zapdos were next, taking an almost identical course to Articuno, also calling in what sounded like alarm. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought that they might be fighting, but as they came back the way they had come, Moltres overtook Zapdos, and neither showed any aggression towards the other. Zapdos cast him an evil look as it went past, but showed no inclination to attack either of the other two. They were disturbed by something, sure enough, but were not fighting. Just as well, with the Chosen One having seemingly dropped off the face of the planet without trace! But what was upsetting them? He asked the Headman, Tobias, who he was talking to over the radio.
"I don't know." Tobias replied. "They've been doing that for the last couple of days, just over-flying the island again and again, calling like that! I don't know why, except that something must be upsetting them! If you're coming in to land, there's space in the main square, but you'll have to move when the flying Poké Centre/doctor's surgery turns up."
"That'll be Cyril's sister. He said she was a Pokémon and people doctor, and had a machine like his for flying about the islands in. Okay, that's no problem." Lawrence said. Tobias smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Drop by, lad, and we'll have a quiet drink and a chat."
"You mean you'll serve up some of that hooch of yours-what's it called again?" he asked.
"Moltres' Fury. Yes." Tobias said.
"Moltres' Fury no kidding! It sure felt like Moltres had fire blasted the inside of my head last year when you gave me that stuff! O.K, see you in half-an-hour." He signed off, and headed for the village and the main square.
The patch of bad weather by the Slowking's Shrine was no worse, he noted, but also no better. He could see Cyril's machine, parked near it. He called Cyril.
"Lawrence! You must come and see what I've got off my friend! Come around!"
"Not today, or anytime early tomorrow, I'm afraid. I've been invited around Tobias' house, for a drink of his evil brew! I won't even be up tomorrow morning, never mind able to visit you!"
"You might want to visit my friend tomorrow too-he's got something for you." said Cyril, taking out the blue feather and holding it in front of the screen. "He gave me this to show you."
"But he can't have Articuno, thank God, because I saw it myself, fifteen minutes ago. I guess I'll head there tomorrow afternoon-which is the earliest I expect to wake, with a stinking hangover. I'd better make sure Adele leaves a cup of her hangover cure by my bed. That stuff can even cure a Moltres' Fury hangover!"
"Okay, so I'll see you when I see you." said Cyril. "By the way, that angry Mantine you warned me about is his. He mistreated it. See if you can convince him to try to placate it, would you?"
"Absolutely." said Lawrence. "By the way, Cyril, don't forget to go to the sausage shop. They'll sell you a "Visitor's Link, which is ten sausages for the price of eight. Shamouti sausages are special, they're not your regular bangers, so make sure you know how to cook them before you try. Also, go to the guest house to but the sauce-the Farraday's is far superior to what the shop sells. Try the mushroom, garlic, and herb, or the cheesy herb sauce. If in doubt about the cooking, wait for me to come around and I'll show you. Well, I'm going to have to concentrate on landing now so I'll say goodbye." He signed off.
He landed, and made his way to Tobias' home. Adele let him in, and the aroma of Shamouti sausages in Farraday Mushroom and garlic sauce caressed his nostrils invitingly. "Come in, we're expecting you! Want a plateful?" she asked, gesturing towards the Aga, where the sausages were cooking.
"Yes please!" said Lawrence, whose mouth was already watering at the smell. Adele waved him to a seat, and in short order, a plate bearing three fat Shamouti sausages swimming in Farraday sauce (containing whole button mushrooms, and quarters of the scarce Lightning Island hand-picked mushrooms), an empty glass, a jug full of mixed fruit juice, and a deceptively small bottle of Moltres' Fury was placed on the table in front of him. Adele handed him a set of wooden-handled cutlery, the handles beautifully carved into miniature totems of Articuno, Moltres, and Zapdos.
Lawrence tucked in with gusto, not putting down his cutlery until he had finished eating. Tobias and Adele tucked in with equal relish. Lawrence finished, looked up, and let out an appreciative sigh, followed by a rather loud belch that he tried unsuccessfully to stifle. Adele looked up and smiled.
"Sounds like you enjoyed that!"
"I did. I don't eat like that often." He replied.
"You need a wife!" declared Adele. "We'll have to set you up with an island girl!"
"I think I scared them all off with what I did last year!" Lawrence sighed.
"Nah." Adele said "We islanders have long memories, but short grudges. They'll have forgiven you for that long ago."
"As have we." said Tobias, leaning forward to pour an alarmingly generous amount of Moltres' Fury into Lawrence's glass. Lawrence quickly diluted it with fruit juice before he risked becoming drunk on the fumes alone. Tobias raised his own glass, also safely diluted.
"Here's to friendship!" he said.
"To friendship." Lawrence and Adele echoed, and they drank.
Three hours (and two more large glasses) later, Adele and Tobias helped Lawrence up to their guest bedroom. Adele kindly made up some hangover remedy, leaving it by Lawrence's bed. Then Tobias and Adele retired to bed too.
Lawrence was awoken late the next morning by a chink of sunlight that slipped through a crack between the curtains. Opening his eyes cautiously, long enough to spot and reach for the hangover cure. He drank it, dressed, and then, feeling rather delicate, went downstairs.
Rachel awoke, in Cyril's machine, to find Cyril gone, and Mrs Lugia shifting restlessly beside her. Are you okay? she asked.
I have a problem, and I'm not sure what to do. Mrs Lugia proceeded to explain that in the normal course of things, a female Lugia, once mated, could store sperm indefinitely. In the normal course of things, a Lugia would lay 2, or maybe 3 eggs, several tens of years apart, in her lifetime. Mrs Lugia's sense of time wasn't easy to gauge, but usually the last child had grown up and flown the nest by the time the next egg was laid. But Nature had invented a safety system in Lugias, since a Lugia's role in nature was so important.
If a female Lugia who has mated at least once is separated from any other Lugia for a certain period of time, the body senses the absence of another Lugia, and sets egg production into motion, using the stored sperm. I will soon be laying an egg. I don't know what to do. I don't want my next child born into captivity!
Rachel rested her head against Mrs Lugia's side. She, too, was at a loss how to resolve Mrs Lugia's dilemma. Even if you managed to get this egg to your mate, the result would just be another egg! she said. Mrs Lugia closed her eyes in sadness and resignation.
Then I will have to raise my child in captivity. she sighed.
Back at Tobias' house, Lawrence was feeling a little more human, after a Shamouti fried breakfast and a hair of the dog. He set out, stopping off at his machine to change into some fresh clothes, and set off to Cyril's friend's hut.
Cyril, in the meantime, was rather concerned about the Pikachu he'd bought from his friend. Despite being surrounded by Pikachus of both gender, it was still unhappy. They tried to show it around, all the females were trying to get its attention, for it was a fine male specimen of its kind, but to no avail. Even the little large-eared Pikachu types which hatched from the eggs (and they were beginning to outnumber the Pikachu) couldn't entice it to join them in their games. It just sat there sadly, tears leaking down its cheeks, uttering a little 'Pikash' now and then. Cyril didn't know what to do. His sister-a combined Pokémon and people doctor-would know, he was sure. He was glad she'd be arriving in a few days.
Lawrence, in the meantime, was making his way to the man's hut. He had on a nice thick cloak, very long and voluminous, with a nice thick hood, which was currently keeping the weather off him. The localised blizzard he was fighting alternated every few minutes with driving rain, and/or sleet. Wrapping it tightly around himself, he negotiated a three-second hailstorm which peppered him with hailstones the size of the average marble.
Upon reaching the man's hut, he got in, and knocked some of the accumulated snow off his hood. Seeing a coat and hat rack, he shucked off the hood and hung it up, where it dripped soggily.
"Welcome!" said the man, coming through. "Come, I will make you a pot of coffee to warm you up, and we will do business. I have a rare Pokémon for you, for your collection!"
"Thank you." said a shivering Lawrence. The man waved him to a seat and shortly he was sipping a warm rich coffee.
"Come, and let me show you what I have for you." The man said. "This little gem caused me so much trouble to catch." The man pulled his face into a sorrowful mask.
'Yeah, right, the old sob story.' thought Lawrence, well used to such traders.
"She really is a beauty, and any collector would be proud to possess her." The man continued. "All we need to do is agree on a suitable price."
"I don't want to just take your word for it! What if I end up buying just a manky old Pidgey?" Lawrence said. "Show me this Pokemon!"
"Manky old Pidgey, oh no!" the man said. "I would not trick you so, no! My reputation would be ruined!" He signalled for Lawrence to stay where he was.
"Here, see, this is no manky Pidgey I sell to you! He said, and pushed the force-field containing Julie into view.
The man had made a few adjustments to the mechanism, strengthening the field at certain points, and weakening it at others to put her in the pose he desired. She was in a flying pose, wings spread, feet back, head up with her tail coiling back and behind her. Her mouth was open (nothing the friend had tried had managed to close it) and her eyes wide open (in fright.) A fine mist of ice-crystals, from the captured blizzard, hung suspended in front of her.
Lawrence was appalled. He recognised the mechanism as a type blacklisted by many Pokémon collectors, because any Pokémon kept in one tended to suffer severe disorientation upon coming out. The longer they were in, the more severe the disorientation. The ability to pose the entity inside was decidedly dodgy. There was no warning system or cut-out for pressure applied. Broken bones and muscular tears had been known to occur. Unscrupulous collectors had been known to leave Pokémon in for decades, where only a few years was recommended, and some had been known to die of old age in the field. Force fields generally only immobilised and put to sleep Pokémon. There were some that could keep them completely in stasis, but they were highly expensive, and mainly the province of the Nurse Joys (to keep a seriously ill Pokémon in a stable condition until treatment could be effected) and doctors (the same reason with human patients).
Early death was another unpleasant side-effect of the field being used for any length of time, and it was thought that high electromagnetic fields, combined with irregularities that rippled at random through the field (a design fault of that model) were to blame.
"You've caught a young Articuno? Let it out!" he cried. He was pale and shaking. If this were a young Articuno, it would explain the patch of foul weather he'd had to battle through to get there. Additionally, one or both parents might turn up in order to release their child, which would mean trouble. Then he noticed how human the face looked, and the non bird-like leg thickness, and wondered just what the man had caught.
"I can't do that! She'll blizzard, and fly away. Don't panic, it's not a young Articuno, but it's close enough. If I recall rightly, you didn't manage to capture Articuno last year, so I'd imagine this would be worth quite a lot to you. Shall we decide on a price? How about 800'000?"
"That's ridiculous! I'm not that desperate!" he snapped back. "200'000 would make you rich enough, and I'll even take the force-field off your hands. I'll pay you 5000 for it." 'To make sure you can't use it on some other poor Pokémon!' he thought. "If you must use force-fields, I'll throw in one of mine free to sweeten the deal. A computer system would be better, and my generous offer could help you set up a shop, a more profitable shop. If your Pokémon are happy and well-treated, people are more likely to buy from you. This island will soon need a Poké Mart, and if you move quickly enough, your shop can be it. Corner the market early, get yourself established, and competition will be easier to beat off when it turns up. Why not try training and battling a Pokémon and battling other trainers? It'll help you understand what trainers look for and how they feel about their Pokémon. You also earn money from battling."
At this, the man seemed interested, and asked for more information, but wanted more money for Julie. They eventually settled on 300'000. Then the man said "I may have something else you may be interested in."
"Oh, let me see." Lawrence said.
"I need to know you can keep control of it, and deal with it. It can be rude, mouthy, and a right pain in the bum!"
'Oh dear!' thought Lawrence 'If it's causing him that much trouble, I'd bet almost anything he's mistreating it. I'd best convince him, for it's sake, that I can control it. That means appearing harsh.'
He drew himself up to his full height, folded his arms, and gave the man a haughty glare.
"I am Lawrence the Third. I think I can deal with disobedient Pokémon. I have force-fields I can use! Excellent for display purposes, and even the birds last year couldn't escape without outside help!"
"Follow me." The man said. "Remember that boy who spoiled your plans last year, and whose meddling resulted in the crash and subsequent destruction of your original machine?"
'Oh no!' thought Lawrence. 'Has he got Ash?'
"Yes, I remember that brat." was what Lawrence said to the man. "That was an expensive machine!" The man beckoned, and Lawrence followed him through to the back room.
There, in a cage between a depressed looking Chansey and a sad, limp Mankey, was Ash, in a grubby-looking yellow bodysuit that Lawrence could smell from the door. There was something different about him, other than his attire. In the hair on top of his head, were those-ears? Was that tail part of the bodysuit, or was it attached to Ash? What about those red patches on his cheeks? The man took Lawrence over to the cage.
"I have that brat here, if you want him." The man said. As Ash looked up, hearing the man's voice, Lawrence noted the look of abject misery on Ash's face, the wetness on his cheeks and the redness of Ash's eyes. As Ash caught sight of Lawrence, Lawrence saw fear creep into those eyes.
"Of course I want him!" Lawrence said. "I know how to deal with this boy. I do not intend to repeat the mistakes of last year! I'll take him off your hands for 100'000."
Lawrence could see it was more than the man had expected, for rather than trying to up the price, he promptly said "Done!"
"Did he have any other clothes? I'll want him to be recognisable." Lawrence asked.
"Yes, I'll just go and get them." the man said. He opened a drawer in a nearby cupboard, and extracted Ash's clothes, shoes, cap and rucksack.
"I want a trolley for the Articuno-creature and her force-field. This one can come on a leg-rope, and walk with me." he said, indicating Ash. "I will help you set up a Mart, if you show me you can treat a Pokémon with kindness and train it with love. I'll return later."
The man opened Ash's cage and pulled him out none too gently. He unwound the other end of the copper wire attached to Ash's ankle from a cage bar. "I'd leave that on him if I were you, or he might thundershock you." the man said. The man attached a leg-rope to Ash's ankle, and handed the handle end to Lawrence. Lawrence slipped the handle over his hand, around his wrist, took one of Ash's limp hands in his own, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"When I encountered this meddling child before, he had a Pikachu and other Pokémon with him. Where are they?" he asked the man.
"Your friend Cyril took on the Pikachu. There were no other Pokémon with him." The man said.
'No wonder Ash looks so miserable!' thought Lawrence. 'That's a dirty trick, selling on his Pikachu!'
"Can I ask what you plan to do with him?" the man asked Lawrence.
"I am Lawrence the Third. My business is mine!" Lawrence snapped, abruptly turning to the man, who stepped back, suitably intimidated by Lawrence's height and manner. Lawrence blinked slowly and inclined his head, "I suppose it will do no harm to let you know my plans for this boy. I hope to have him on display before the whole island and it's visitors. All will get to know what he did to my machine last year!" Ash began to tremble, fear now the uppermost emotion in his eyes. Lawrence then spoke psychically to Ash himself.
Meaning, O Chosen One, that the islanders would like you to be in the re-enactment of last year's events, playing your own part on a float and in the ceremony. All the islanders and the tourists can see how your actions stopped my folly and saved the world. Play along and act scared, but you have no real need to fear me." The worried look on Ash's face and the trembling didn't stop, but much of the fear left his eyes. Lawrence spoke to Ash again, this time out loud. "Now make yourself useful and help me push this trolley, or it'll be all the worse for you!"
Lawrence handed the man his platinum bank card. "Charge the amount to my account, and then we'll be on our way." Lawrence sat and watched the man type in the amount, then took his card back and went out, helping Ash with the trolley. Lawrence looked back over his shoulder. "We'll make arrangements to send one of my force-fields when I come back. In the meantime, do something about that Mantine of yours before it severely hurts or kills someone! It needs to be treated with kindness. Your actions caused it to have no trust in humans. You must restore it's trust."
The weather was still bad, but they were now at the centre of it, having Julie with them. Lawrence's cloak was big enough that while wearing it he could wrap Ash in the folds to keep him dry.
"Chosen One." he said after a few minutes. "Do me a favour."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Ash.
"If you come across that man again, and you're in a position to do so, thundershock him. He gave me the distinct impression that you could, and he deserves it!"
"Er- yes Sir, and could you just call me Ash, Sir. I got enough of that "Chosen One" stuff last year, and am likely to get it again this year Sir." Ash asked.
"Okay, Ash, on one condition. Drop the 'Sir'. Also, although my name is Lawrence, my friends call me Laurie. I'd like to consider you as my friend."
"Er, Okay S-I mean Laurie." Ash replied.
Upon reaching Lawrence's machine, Lawrence called down his lift, and they got Julie's force field and trolley onto it, then stepped on themselves. Lawrence instructed it to take them to his living quarters level. On the way up, Lawrence removed the copper wire around Ash's ankle. The man had used a rough piece, and had wound it so tightly around Ash's leg that it had cut into the flesh. Lawrence pointed Ash towards the shower, giving him several fluffy towels and some shampoo, soap, a soft sponge and a loofah. Lawrence laid Ash's clothes out on the bed ready for him, and got out a first-aid kit to dress the injury on Ash's leg. He then turned his attention to Julie.
He carefully, over the course of a few minutes, relaxed the force-field, but left the sleep-inducing field on, so he could gently transfer her to his bed without the disorientation caused by the device making her struggle. He moved behind her, and reaching over, gently stroked her face with one finger. She was exquisite! But what was she?
She stirred, her wings twitching, and then suddenly let loose with a full-force blizzard. Lawrence was glad he'd had the foresight to go behind her.
"Hush, it's okay, you're out of the force-field." He told her. Her lips moved as if trying to say something, but what came out was an Articuno-like screech that made Lawrence clap his hands over his ears. Then she tried again, and this time she succeeded in managing to speak.
"Where am I? Who are you?"
"I'm Laurie, and you're safe, in my machine."
"Laurie?" she queried. "He said he was going to sell me to some guy called Lawrence the Third."
"That's me, Laurie for short." He said gently. As she began to shake harder, and the wind outside picked up into a howling gale, he decided it had been the wrong thing to say. What had the man said about him? He took her by the shoulders, gently turning her towards him till their faces were opposite each other.
"Relax, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." he said. She opened her eyes, and saw his face. Her huge green eyes met his blue ones, and widened. The wind outside dropped to a whisper, as he continued to stare. Lawrence took his chance.
"What's your name? Don't worry about the year, it's June 2, 2002."
"Then I've only been in there a few days. Thank God!" she said. "My name's Julie."
"Julie." He repeated. "It's a lovely name.
"What are you planning to do with me?" she asked. "The article I was given said you use force-fields." She began to shake again. "Please don't put me in one!" There were tears in her pleading eyes.
"I won't I promise." he said. As her eyes closed in relief, the tears were squeezed from her eyes onto her face. Lawrence wiped away one with his thumb, and kissed the other away. "I bought you to get you away from him! I learned my lesson last year. I don't collect live things any more. You can go free right now if you want! However, I would be honoured if you would join me for a holiday here. Shamouti Island is fun even for a lone tourist, but even more fun with a friend."
She smiled up at him. "I'd love to!" she said. Her shaking subsided, and the weather outside cleared. The sun came out.
"Which article was it anyway?" he asked.
"A photocopy from the local paper. It's under here." She said, lifting a wing. Lawrence reached in for the folded piece of paper he could see.
It was warm and dry under Julie's wing, and he retrieved the paper, withdrawing his hand from the pleasant feathers reluctantly. He looked at the photocopy and said "Yes, I was like that last year, but I'm not any more."
"Good." said Julie.
"How did you end up like this?" Lawrence asked. "Were you born that way?"
"No." Julie said. "I was put through a teleportation device, and combined at the genetic level with some Articuno tissue a scientist cloned from some skin he found on an Articuno feather he found." Julie explained. "He's changed other people too, as you can see." One wingtip indicated Ash, who was (finally) coming out of the shower, as pink as a newly-peeled prawn, a big fluffy towel wrapped around his waist, so big it looked like a long skirt.
"How many people?" asked Lawrence.
"A lot." She said. She did a quick mental calculation. "Thirteen who haven't been hypnotised into obedience, and about the same number who have. And he's planning more."
"How many have been changed by teleporter? Can you be changed back? Just how much Articuno are you? Do you feel more like a bird or a girl? Can you actually fly? Or blizzard?"
"Hey, one question at a time, please, or I might forget some! I'm the only one he's changed by teleporter. The rest have been altered surgically. I can't be changed back. He wiped my pattern because he didn't want the owner of the teleporter to know that he'd used it. The owner found out anyway, and had it locked and guarded. That's the only reason I'm the only one altered this way. The scientist said that I'm 53 Articuno. I feel more human then bird, although the reverse physically, is true. I can fly and blizzard, and I can carry a human on my back." She noticed the hopeful look Lawrence was trying (and failing) to hide. "I'll gladly fly with you on my back sometimes." she told him, and was rewarded with a brilliant grin.
"Can I have one of your tail-feathers for my collection, if one falls out?" he asked.
"Sure!" Julie said. She sat up. "Is there anything to eat? I'm sorry to ask, but I'm starving!" Next to her Ash, who had quietly dressed, looked down at his stomach sheepishly as it gave a loud rumble. "I second that!"
Lawrence laughed good-naturedly. "I've got some snacks I can bung in the microwave for you. That should fill a hole while I go to get some Shamouti sausages and some Farraday sauce." Julie had heard of neither the sausages or the sauce, but judging from the look on Ash's face, and the way his mouth was watering, and the hopeful noises he was making, (e.g. yum yum, yes please!) he had not only heard about, but had tasted both.
"Incoming call received." His computer said at that moment. "Caller I.D'd as Cyril. Instructions please."
"I'm just coming, I'll answer it." He turned to Julie and Ash. "I won't be long, it's a friend of mine calling."
He sat down in his chair, and asked to be put through.
"Ah, Lawrence, how's the hangover?" asked Cyril. Lawrence winced: Cyril was still wearing that orange shirt, with a bright magenta hanky tucked in his pocket and a green and purple bandanna around his head.
"Mostly better, but lose the hanky and bandanna. My eyes are still sensitive." He said. Cyril obligingly removed the offending items.
"Are you coming around for something to eat, and see what my friend has given me?" he asked. "Also, perhaps you can help me with one of my Pokémon. It's a Pikachu I bought from my friend." Lawrence remembered that the man had told him that he'd sold Cyril Ash's Pikachu.
"What's the problem? Won't it obey you?" he asked.
"It won't do anything! It just sits in my Pikachu environment looking sad, and occasionally saying 'Pikash', which I've never heard any other Pikachu say before!"
"I think I may be able to help you there." Lawrence said. "I'll go to the sausage shop and guest house, and get some sausages and sauce to add to yours. Then I'll be straight round."
"Oops! I forgot to get any!" said Cyril.
"Call the sausage shop." said Lawrence, sending him the number. "They'll send an island boy to deliver and take payment for them at your machine. Just tip him a bit as well."
"Okay." Said Cyril, and Lawrence signed off.
He went to a cupboard, and found some oat bars. Giving one to Ash, he opened one for Julie, breaking pieces off and putting them in Julie's mouth. Ash tore into his bar and disposed of it rapidly. When they'd both finished, Lawrence spoke to them.
"We're going to get some Shamouti sausages and sauce. I can confirm my booking, and we can drop by the café on the way to get you something else to eat. Save a space for the sausages we'll get at Cyril's machine. I think Cyril has your Pikachu, Ash, and I know he won't have mistreated it."
"But will he let me have it back?" asked Ash.
"Cyril's a kind man. He wouldn't like to see you or Pikachu miserable, if he could do anything to help. If he doesn't, I'll have a word. C'mon both of you, let's go!"
They set off.
