Greetings. I am happy to say that this story lives...for the time being. Each upcoming chapter will be presented in multiple points-of-view, and the details provided may make sense in future updates--the holes will be filled.

Once again, please read and review once you are finished (that may not be for a while, seeing as this chapter covers roughly twenty pages in book-form). Your advice and comments are well-appreciated in this fanfic.

I claim no rights to any previously published material, including characters, places, logos, companies, concepts, and original ideas. They are Copyright to their respective owners, creators, and publishers. I claim ownership to this fanfiction work and this fanfiction work alone.

With my rights upheld, let's get this story moving, shall we?

THE GENETICIST'S NOTEBOOK

By A.G.M. Mendelssohn, 2005, 2006

Chapter One

First Person Point-of-View—Approximately 42 minutes earlier, 9:01 P.M, Viridian Police Department

I found it quite tedious. Who was the idiot who introduced forty-eight hour shifts to the police force? I wouldn't have. All I have basically done in the past thirty is sit, take delicate sits of highly-caffeinated coffee, stop various trainers for identification (which, as my superior informed me, had become much more necessary since the explosion at the Pokémon Center), and watch reruns of Pokémon ER and The Ninetales's Curse. Quite the life, I must say...twice a week, fifty weeks a year, the same process.

I felt more sorry for my sister, though...she had to sit at a lonely outpost positioned at the outskirts of town. At least I got in some friendly chats with my colleagues. Even so, my sister and I...we were the only two members from the Jenny family that worked in Viridian City.

All the women in my family take on the exact same appearance. Same eyes, same hair, same structure...and the same uniform. Must have been some sort of dominant trait in our genetics—it has been so for twenty-one generations now...over seven hundred years. As a whole we are known as the Jennifer Police Department, though I find that title inaccurate. The family name was Jenny, never Jennifer. I swear, had my family honor not been at stake, I would honestly sic my Growlithe on the next dunce who called me "Officer Jennifer." I'm really serious about that.

"JENNIFER!"

Ah, well. I probably wouldn't have, anyway.

I stood up. "Yes, sir?" said I, my customary salute at check.

Chief Yosemite Bluefield wasn't exactly the type of boss I had expected to have. He was somewhat short in stature, pudgy, balding, and had a temper that would have easily cooked several Chansey eggs in a matter of seconds. I would have never guessed this man had served fifteen years in the Kanto National Air Force. A person that temperamental shouldn't be piloting planes...he would probably try to annihilate an entire city just to find a place to land (not that I'd say that to his face). All the same, he still has the license to check out any aircraft at will. Really lucky guy, considering that we have several hangars full of them.

Bluefield stood at his full height, even though it didn't make much of a difference—I was still more than a head taller than he was. "I am sending you on an assignment," he spoke curtly. "The call just came in. I want you to investigate a suspicious vehicle posted near the local Pokémon Center."

I blinked. Again with the Pokémon Center? First an explosion triggered by a high voltage Pikachu, now this. I really need to talk to the Executive Doctor in charge of that place. I wonder if anyone has a grudge to settle with her. Not likely, but still...

"You do remember the unfortunate...incident..." he swallowed, "that occurred there approximately two point five months ago. Luckily everyone, Pokémon included, escaped with only minor injuries. Of course, the Center's insurance went haywire... Anyway, I want no repeat of that. Your...identical sibling...has already caused enough trouble..."

I almost winced. My sister had left her post the evening the explosion occurred, without notification to her boss. That was an error worthy of detainment. Even though she did seem to have good intentions, something about helping out some irresponsible trainer with his Pokémon. Well, since she wasn't at her outpost, an aircraft (a hot air ballon, would you believe it?) managed to enter the city without detection. They, whoever they were, launched an attack on the Center, probably looking for rare Pokémon to abduct. You see what I'm getting at?

Bluefield was now blunt. "So, I simply want you to check it out. No battling, if possible. As for potential arrests, you're on your own. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded, "right away, sir."

As he returned to his office, I tried to stifle a yawn. This was going to be a long night. Oh, well. What else was there to do? He couldn't send someone else; I was the only officer on duty...for the next six hours at least. Just about everyone else was on some case thirty or so miles south of the city—something about arson and some insane maniac. They would be back in the morning. I could almost imagine the front page of the Viridian Paradise Times: "Very Confused Lunatic Apprehended for Whisky." I didn't see why it needed the entire squad to investigate, although the call did sound urgent when Bluefield wrote it out on the report. So, as I said, there was no one else but me, my sister at her far-away outpost, and the boss. That's all.

I sleepily made my way to the land vehicle holding area. I found my specially designed officer motorcycle parked right at the garage's entrance. Taking one last swig of espresso, I hopped onto the cycle, activated the switch that opened the garage, released the stand, and sped off into the night. I purposely took the longest routes as possible. I'd have rather been on the road than stuck in a stuffy office all evening.

It was a bit difficult to keep my eyes on the road, though there wasn't too much traffic. I sped past a number if shops, somewhat wishing I had time to stop and have a look around. I would have gladly stopped at Fashion Retail ("Match the winning apparel of today, and become the greatly stylish of tomorrow!"), likely to appoint a redesign on the entire Jenny uniform, but I knew Bluefield would get on case for "defacing the noble vest." Poké Marts lined the streets, surprisingly full of customers, the clerks looking slightly frazzled…. Newly opened restaurants stood expectantly, waiting for the tide of hungry folks... Human supermarkets were bustling with people, especially that ancient-looking Wal-Mart (which, I recon, has been the longest surviving store in all history—What was it? Five or six thousand years of something like that?). Trinket and souvenir shops held cheap jewelry, easily broken mugs, and large repulsive sweaters that read "I visited the Evergreen Paradise!" Evergreen Paradise was an overstatement-true, it had been Viridian's nickname for as long as I could remember, but honestly...except for a small grove scattered throughout the park, there was hardly any trees left in the city's vicinity. Not since the mayor had a mental collapse.

There was a great deal of dwellings, some four stories high, others as low as an underground parking lot. I was amazed at the amount of hotshot trainers taking a nightly stroll up and down the street. I easily distinguished them as Pokémon trainers seeing that they each had a Pokédex in one hand and a Poké ball in another. Trash bins stood here and there underneath various lampposts, some knocked down by maybe a stray Pokémon—probably a Rattata or Raticate. Once, I glimpsed a Pokémon battle down an alley to my left. Two tough-looking trainers squaring off with their Pokémon—a Sandslash versus a Scyther, from the looks of it. I shook my head wearily. These days, there always had to be a brawl about something; believe me, from what I saw, it didn't look like a casual, friendly battle. Quite the opposite.

The park went by in a matter of minutes. No human beings seemed to be there, only a few wild Pokémon. Zubat hung in the trees, curled up and motionless. A Raichu stood on a brick wall nearby and proceeded to stare me down with daring eyes as I past, a few electric volts playing at its cheeks. Obviously it was looking for trouble—a trainer to confront, or maybe an intruder to punish. Who knows?

I had to swerve out of the way to avoid hitting a couple of crossing Sandshrew, which I found unusual considering that Sandshrew aren't native to the Viridian area. Some heartless trainer probably released them from their Poké containers and abandoned them. That must be it…there was a stunning rise in released Pokémon over the years, as I had checked out that particular report. Too many Pokémon, too useless to live—that's what some idiot said. Pokémon as couldn't battle well were dumped back into the wild by their trainers. Complete imbeciles. Pokémon aren't all about battling. I remember some great scientist and theologian who contributed great breakthroughs in the understanding of the Pokémon origins and human tolerance. Who was it…? What was her name…? Ah, Saint Anne of Lingua, noble and wise, dead over fourteen hundred years.

From what I remember, Saint Anne dedicated her life to the study of Pokémon and humanity. In her work, she determined that Pokémon are able to grasp complex feelings, somewhat have the capacity to make decisions based on mentality based on instinct, and feel the suffering that humanity feels. She was great with Pokémon language, too. She made several statements that most people today accept, deemed by scientists and other officials alike as the Language Barrier Theory, or something like that. Its contents had something to do about Pokémon being able to almost-perfectly cognize the human language—English, French, Spanish, Japanese, whatever—though humans cannot comprehend the Pokémon's language. Strange, indeed. I wonder why that is…? Also, she said something about Pokémon, though their speech is based upon their own species name, being able to understand each other with ease, sort of like many dialects of a universal language. Unfortunately, most of the time, it's a facial and gesture game for them to communicate with us.

You know what…I really want to figure out that mystery. It's an enigma wrapped in a Ditto, as people say. Perhaps I would get an answer; perhaps I would not. Depends if I meet a person brilliant enough to unravel such a puzzle….

The park was well behind me. The Pokémon Center loomed ahead. The architects did a great job in reconstruction—it looked exactly the same as it had just a few months ago. No one would have ever known it was a victim of violent demolition. That was just as well; we really didn't want people flocking from the city any more than we could handle. A bit like a crescent-shaped dome with various entrances and exits, its roof embedded with a medical Red Cross (an ancient, ancient symbol, as I heard) and a giant letter "P," I prepared myself for a dramatic opening. I would sail right over the slight front ridge and land with a screeching brake, right through the sliding doors and come to a stop right at reception's front desk. I knew my sis used to do that.

I pressed the accelerator a little bit more. Bracing for flight, my cycle and I leapt over the ridge and…DAMN! There was a vehicle parked below the ridge! I think my neck got a bit of a whiplash as I skidded across the roof of the van, showering sparks across the driveway. The cycle and I toppled right off the back and landed with a forceful thud onto the pavement, smoke and dust rising from the ground. There was a silence. Nurse Joy, owner of the Center, stared at me from reception through the doors' see-through glass, her mouth opened, with an immensely amazed look on her face. I issued an awkward laugh, getting off my motorcycle and rubbing the back of my neck. Even though humans are better structured for taking physical injury in this present day and age, it didn't stop my neck from becoming sore over the next week.

Now here's the part that bothered me. The back doors of the van suddenly opened, knocking over my cycle and almost myself. About five men garbed in black gave me a dirty look, including the driver at the wheel. They quickly got over that when they saw my status—a police authoritarian. Realizing my position, they quickly shut the door and rigged up the engine. They were obviously up to no good, trying to run from a cop. But unfortunately, it looked like they were going to get away. Well…then again…no, it didn't.

I snatched a Poké ball from my holster. An officer used to carry just guns at their waist, but soon the entire department found Pokémon partners much more effective. I enlarged the sphere, taking several steps back.

"Growlithe, go!"

The ball opened on its magnetic hinges and released Growlithe in a flash of white. There was the puppy Pokémon—about two-feet in height, an orange-black striped coat, and a loyal companion. It—he looked ready to do battle.

"Growl…lithe!" He growled ferociously.

"Growlithe," I called, "attack with your Flamethrower technique!"

"Lith…LITHE!" With a deep breath, his muzzle opened, and he exhaled a tremendous stream of fire, engulfing the entire van…and my motorcycle, too…. I envisioned for a split-second the scene where Bluefield popped my eardrums with his five-hundred-decibel voice, ranting on about the loss of police equipment.

The van skidded out of control. Smoldering with burnt metal, it swerved backwards into a lamppost, knocking the entire pole over. The driver was blocked from view—the windshield was covered in soot. But then the front doors opened, and a series of men began to leap from the wrecked van and flee into the night.

My eyes narrowed in determination. I pointed towards them. "Oh, no you don't—Growlithe, Take Down!"

"Gruff," barked Growlithe, bounding forward and knocking over the escaping men like pins in a bowling alley. They were out cold before they even knew what hit them.

I nodded. "Excellent work."

Growlithe returned to my side. Petting him on the crown, I restored him to his Poké ball. He disappeared in a beam of red light—an atomized tractor beam, to be exact—and into the container.

Nurse Joy came running out the door. She was wearing a pinkish skirt, a white nurse's gown and cap, and had red hair tied in such a way that would have normally made me quite ashamed of my old fashioned bun. She shook her head and surveyed the wreckage. "Nice landing. Your sister would be proud." She looked upon the crooks. "Are they contained?" she asked a bit nervously.

"Almost," said I, placing the fifth pair of handcuffs on the final escapee. That done, I referred to my Authoritarian Poké gear, pressing a signal button that would alert backup for the official arrest. Then it hit me...it would do no good. Bluefield and I were the only ones at the station. And my sister was on the other side of town, scanning the skies for hot-air balloons. There was no backup. Not until 2 or 3 AM at the earliest.

"Ah, ha..." I found it a bit embarrassing to ask. "You wouldn't happen to have a secure room where I can hold these cases until backup arrives in a few hours, would you?"

Joy's expression clouded over a bit. "A few hours?" She had a look of disbelief.

"Ah, ha-hah..." It was all I could get out. I felt myself turning slightly red, a very undignified behavior for a cop.

She sighed, gently rubbing her eyes. "Absolutely," she said. "We have plenty of rooms inside."

"Good, good, good." I quickly tried to brush off the explanation that I was the only available cop in town. One at a time, I transported the crooks to a ventilated storage room that Joy had opened, somewhere off the lobby. When I had placed the last stunned thug in the storage room, Joy closed the door-rather quickly-and locked it. We returned to the lobby.

"Now," I prompted, once again taking out my Poké gear, "tell me exactly what happened here, the events, the people—everything you know." I set my gear to the Scribble pad, ready to write it all down, my Press pen in hand.

Joy wearily sat down on the couch. She closed her eyes and rested her face in her left hand, gently brushing a lock of her reddish hair. At that moment, a chubby pink Pokémon with a miniature nurse's cap on its head, a Chansey, came slowly out of the Critical Care Room.

"Chansey Sey Chan, Chan?" it—she asked, nervously looking around.

Joy looked up. "Don't worry, Chansey, they're gone now."

"Sey..." She sighed in relief.

Nurse Joy now looked at me. "Yes the details..."

She inhaled deeply. "About thirty or so minutes ago, I was planning to shut down the center early, since we barely had any patients in our care. Chansey was at my side. As I was filing away some paperwork into the computer system, this van shows up. It parks in plain view from the entrance, where I could see it from front desk."

"Uh, huh," I said, scribbling text onto the computerized pad.

"That's when these two men in black come in and stand in front of me. They begin to threaten me, saying stuff about 'trashing the entire center,' and 'injuring the patients.'" She shuddered quite suddenly. "They told me to stay here at reception 'or else.' I had no choice but to oblige. They went back into the van with the back opened, watching me closely. I silently mouthed to Chansey to move back into the C.C. Unit behind us. I couldn't risk it any injury.

"The minutes slowly crept by. I was tempted to use the phone, since it was so close away, but I wouldn't dare. I was too afraid of what these men were capable of..." She paused.

With my pen in hand, I silently continued to write, my mind thinking deeply. That's not usual, I thought. Why would criminals make a threat for her to "stay here?" Stay here for what?

I looked up. "Continue."

"Well, at about nine o'clock, all of the thugs came storming in. This time they had Poké balls in their hands. I began to get quite nervous at that moment. But instead of releasing their Pokémon, they ran around the back, apparently looking for something, ordering me again to stay here. While they were absent from the lobby I seized the opportunity to make the call to the police station. The Chief took my call, I think."

"So he did," I confirmed. That explained the phone call to Bluefield and my dispatch.

"They returned from the back the moment I replaced the receiver. It became terrifying in an instant. One of them glanced at the phone I had used, gazing at the screen...the caller history list. It clearly read '9-1-1' under the list of recent calls, a connection to the police station. For a second, I thought I was all over!"

"But...strange... He didn't do anything about it. He threatened me for the third time to 'stay here or else' and returned with the others to the van, shutting the door. Through the van's back windows and the Center's front doors I could see them, and they could see me. I was a hostage.

"Finally, after several agonizing minutes had past, you showed up. You skidded across the top of their van (whether it was an accident or not, I really don't want to know) and incinerated their vehicle with your Growlithe (obviously well trained, from what I saw). You put all of them in handcuffs and…that's it. That's all I have to tell." She shook her head and closed her eyes. "That's the second scariest thing I've experienced this year..."

"Hmm…" I murmured, saving up my notepad and closing the file. I was a bit troubled. The crooks did see the call history list and the location as well—Viridian Police Department. Why didn't they do something about it? They could have ran away, or wrecked havoc on the Center...but they didn't. It was almost as if they expecting my arrival... But that couldn't be...they seemed just as surprised to seeing me here as I was to seeing them. It made no sense, no sense whatsoever...

"Chansey Chan, Sey!" Chansey suddenly stood upright, as if intently listening for something.

Joy stood up. "What is it, Chansey?" she asked worriedly.

"Chansey...Sey, Sey CHAN!"

Chansey, with a panicked expression, instantly bounded out the front doors. She was running swifter than most high-speed vehicles, going directly up the street, seemingly ignorant of any passing cars. There were a whole lot of screeches and car horns, complete with muffled swearing.

"Chansey!" cried Joy. "Come back!"

And that's when a piercing sound emitted in the distance.

Far in the distance...coming from the Viridian DNA Research Laboratory.

------------------------------

9:45 P.M, Viridian Pokémon Center, Parking Lot

"The Lab!"

Suddenly I was the one in a panic. That could never be could. A secure facility somehow gets broken into? That's a very, very bad circumstance, especially when you're one of the only two officers in town.

I stormed out of the Center, looking in the far distance. The lab was in its emergency lockdown, with the red flashes, booming alarms, and reinforcement doors. I had to get to that place, now! I looked around for my motorcycle and—oh, I forgot. It was disabled—burned…just like the van.

The Lab continued its ear-splitting display. And I could do nothing but watch.

I heard a sudden burst of an ignition to my right. I turned and found a rather beat-up Finite NVK sitting idly, smoking large amounts of exhaust. The engine sounded a bit like a very sick Koffing. And there, in the driver's seat was Joy, looking more like a professional racer than a Pokémon doctor.

She almost smiled at my shocked expression. "Always ready to do somewhere," she said, opening the passenger door. I got inside the dusty interior, nearly shutting the door on my foot. Joy was putting on a seatbelt. I thought it wise to dot he same. I had never seen Nurse Joy drive.

She slammed her foot on the accelerator.

You could only imagine the events to follow in the next six minutes. I'll leave it at this: If Nurse Joy hadn't been aiding me in investigation business, I would have likely charged her with the entire book of Traffic lawbreaking. That would include speeding (the most obvious one), illegally running through every single stoplight we came across, disrupting traffic (disrupting isn't even the right word to describe it), and, the pride of it all, sending several fancy limousines into some variously thick shrubbery while cutting through the park. I slumped low in my seat-Joy was concentrating on making a good explanation of Chansey's behavior. More so than her driving, I may add.

"It's very sensitive, you see," she stated, swerving out of the left lane to avoid a head-on collision with an SUV. "Chansey is able to sense pain and suffering from a great distance—human or Pokémon. It's one of its most useful natural abilities and instincts. That's what makes it such an excellent aide in Pokémon Centers and human hospitals." (I wondered if Chansey could feel my suffering right now: stuck in a dangerous speeding car with a driver who usually handled smaller, cuddlier things with doctor utensils.) Her eyes briefly watered. "It must be a bad situation. Chansey rarely goes out running in a panic. Something must have disturbed it terribly..." (All the same, I hoped nothing else terrible would happen...especially ones that would involve very fast moving vehicles crashing into something very solid.) Joy gripped the wheel even tighter now, an action that somehow didn't comfort me all that much.

A secure electric gate stood at the boundaries of the Lab. It was deactivated and opened. A presence suddenly came over me...I will never be able to explain it. For some reason, through the windshield, I looked skywards. What I saw were four or so helicopters flying directly overhead, passing each us in the opposite direction. I could faintly see a red star on the bottom of each of them. Their sounds were completely muffled by the alarm.

Joy gave a sudden gasp—her eyes went wide open. She stood on the brake like a diver on the diving board. With my neck still tilted upwards, I couldn't help but issue a slight moan of shock. The tires squealed to an abrupt halt. Smoke rose from the now busted engine. And up ahead, Chansey was there in the Lab's parking lot...standing over someone….

-------------------------------

9:53 P.M, Viridian DNA Research Laboratory, Parking Lot

I was never going to do that again—ride in a car with Joy as the driver. Getting out of the NVK, I felt quite weak on my feet and my insides were in complete nausea. Even my head was spinning…no, never again. That wasn't fun at all.

Once my head had cleared, I focused my attention on Chansey. I thought I had seen everything by now. Now I realize that I hadn't First, Joy is taken hostage by several thugs in black. Next, a break-in occurs at one of the most secure buildings in all of Viridian. Now this.

Chansey was stooped over a man in a white lab coat-a scientist, I guess. He had brown hair and a slim frame. His hazel eyes were vacant and lifeless-hie neck appeared to be broken. The Pokémon was nudging his arm, as if trying to catch the man's attention. From here, I could see that his shoulder was badly burned. I took another look at the man's face. I instantly realized a dilemma that made my ears throb—and it had nothing to do with the ear-piercing sirens.

"This is Dr. Andrew Pine...the key researcher to the entire lab…." I murmured. Nurse Joy came out of the NVK to have a look. She stopped short.

"Oh my…"

"Chansey chan. Sey Chan Chansey?" Chansey asked uncertainly, closely examining the corpse, either unaware or unwilling to accept that he was…well….

Nurse Joy walked up to the Pokémon. "I'm sorry, Chansey," she spoke heavily, sadly gazing upon Pine. "He's gone. There's nothing you can do…. Oh…Andrew…"

"Sey…" The Pokémon looked sorrowful.

This relation was closer than you may think. I knew that Joy had secretly admired Pine...in a love-struck sort of way. From what I knew, they hadn't been dating, but were considered more like a couple of good friends who met frequently. I also knew that Pine was the one who provided a full squad of trained Chansey, which he raised on his own, to almost every Pokémon Center throughout Kanto…so, obviously, just about every Chansey nurse nationwide took an affectionate liking towards him.

Donation of Chansey to a governmental building…that's one of the reasons why the DNA facility got a four million Pen grant from Viridian City (worth about $500,000 back in the twenty-first century). The other reason, the bigger one, was the fact that their genetic research was superlative and world-renowned. Pokémon DNS...human DNA...new DNA...new discoveries...it really didn't matter what they did—the fame kept rolling in.

If that wasn't good enough, the Kanto National Government provided an additional fifteen million Pen and worldwide recognition of the facility, especially its executive, Dr. Andrew Thomas Pine, to the entire media list. His fame had almost deemed the lab itself as a governmental building. He was right up there with the Works of Professor Oak and the House of McClancy. But, alas, that's all over now. After all, I knew some people had a case against him…

Joy looked up to the height of the building. "I honestly don't know how this could have happened…."

"I as well, but I definitely know it didn't happen by suicide." The moment I said that, I felt like I deserved the golden World's Biggest Idiot award. I instantly felt ashamed—actually, dim-witted would be a better term. Really, what a stupid thing to say!

Joy, who was kneeling by Pine's body, now stared at me. Even in her soft eyes, I could tell she was furious at my statement. "I know he's not the type of person who would," she spoke as calmly as humanly possible. "He had too much to live for. But, nevertheless, what makes you say that?"

I pointed. "The burn on his shoulder. Looks like an Ember attack. He was assaulted, then fell to his death from nine stories. I believe those helicopters I just saw were the intruders getting away…."

Joy lowered her head. She hated brutality of any kind. "I just…I don't…who would do this…?" She tried hard not to break down into tears.

I stood up, quite disheartened over this. "In reality, plenty of people. While he was loved by many for his discoveries, others sought to take the credit from him—his experiment results, in other words. They were interestingly valuable—and undisclosed to the public. Even I don't know what they contain! Anyway, I'm not going to be surprised if there is anything stolen from this building."

Joy was going to bawl any second. I just knew it. I quickly fell silent and busied myself with my Poké gear to avoid an awkward moment. As I checked through my device, I remembered that the thugs who threatened Joy were still back at the Pokémon Center, locked in the storage room. Well...there was nothing I could do about that now. What was important was for me to get some backup down to this murder site. That was going to be difficult— there was no one at base to call.

Actually, I take that back…

------------------------------

9:59 P.M, Viridian DNA Research Laboratory, Parking Lot

There was a sound of police sirens. Before I knew it, about six different police cruisers came from various directions full-speed into the Lab's premises. My sister on her motorcycle followed right behind. They all came to a stop in a semicircle around the site. The car at the front held Bluefield, looking none too happy. After getting out and shutting the door like an odd-shaped guillotine, he marched over to us with a thin line for a mouth. Other officers and fellow Lab employees (who were apparently a little more than distressed over the security activation) proceeded to scan the building and lot. Some investigators tried to approach us, but Bluefield held them back, promising to "rip that badge off your blue-clad chest if you do." That went for my identical sister as well. She shrugged, looking in my direction, and went to wait by her parked motorcycle.

Bluefield stoutly stood in front of us. I, with a very meek expression, was staring back at Bluefield, hoping he wouldn't blow his top. I doubt he would: Joy had her face buried into Pine's still chest, sobbing uncontrollably, her nurse's cap fallen off, with Chansey reassuringly rubbing her back with an occasional word "Sey." My dad often told me that "no man likes to be uncompassionate to a lady in tears." An exact situation at hand, I had always made good use of that saying.

Bluefield gave me a look as if this entire incident was my fault. He crossed his arms, giving me only a deadly stare. Finally, he spoke. "Well?" he asked, impatient now. "Aren't you going to explain yourself?"

I quickly threw myself into respect. I began to salute him with a customary "yes, sir," when he suddenly cut me off.

"There's no time for the niceties," grumbled the Chief. "A simple explanation will do. I want the 'who,' the 'what,' and the 'when.' Nothing more."

I nodded in unsettled agreement. "Yes si—yes. I was investigating the Pokémon Center as you told me so. I found some thugs insides, and I took care of them. The alarm rings a quarter to ten. My motorcycle was trashed, so I hitched a ride with Nurse Joy. We get here about five minutes later. We find him dead. The murderers escaped in helicopters."

He looked at me very sharply. "Describe these helicopters you speak of," he demanded.

I was a bit confused. "Sir...?"

"It helps in the investigation, now talk!"

I found Bluefield's nasty attitude most unnerving. My memory clogged up. "I...I don't know, sir. They were passing overhead in their escape. I can't really describe them…."

The Chief's eyes blazed angrily. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU CAN'T DESCRIBE THEM!" He shouted out his rage. Oh, why me? I get the Fire Spin of his broken temper. "You couldn't have heard them at all, thanks to that BLASTED lockdown alarm! SO HOW'D THE—" I sneezed at that moment, so I thankfully missed a blurb of obscene vulgarity. "—DID YOU KNOW IT WAS CHOPPERS, IF YOU COULDN'T EVEN SEE THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He was turning rather puce. Joy sobbed even louder; Chansey was still futilely trying to bring comfort.

"Well...I...couldn't see...ah...whoever," I was reduced to mumbles under my boss's intimidation, of which really wasn't necessary anyway. I scrambled my memory. "They were black...about four...or five of them." I tried to remember through Bluefield's rant. I think I may have started sweating. "A...red star...on the bottom of each...I think." Would I get suspended if I broke down and started crying like pitiable Joy? Maybe.

The Chief suddenly went quiet. "A red star," he repeated. "Is that right?"

I regained my composure and stood tall. Yes...I recall it clearly now. "That is correct, sir. A blood-red star." I braced myself for the explosion to come around again.

Strangely enough, it didn't come. Bluefield was eerily silent. I found that even more uncomfortable. His angry complexion hadn't changed, but now, when he spoke. His tone had.

"S...sir?" I gazed at him uncertainly. "Are you alright-?"

Chief Bluefield suddenly came back to life. "Yes, yes, yes," he snapped. "I'm fine. Just...go."

I blinked. Was this my boss at a loss of words? That was simply impossible. He always had something more important to say. More important than telling an employee to "just go."

"Go, sir?"

"Yes, go. I declare that your shift is over. Go home."

I just stared at the Chief. That's it? My shift is done? Oh. Well. I assume that's an incentive for spotting the murderer's escape vehicles. I saluted my boss with a "yes, sir" and started to make my way from the crime scene.

"Oh, Lieutenant Jennifer?" called Bluefield.

I halted and turned. "Yes, sir?" I asked, hoping for nothing dramatic.

He was speaking in a cool sound, completely unlike form his typical, boisterous self. "Go straight home. I don't want to see you again tonight, or I'll have your badge at stake. Oh, and well done with the murderer vehicle description." He gave me a curt nod. "Dismissed, and good evening."

I returned to nod. "Thank you, sir. And good evening to you, sir."

"Ah, and Jennifer?" he added.

"Yes, sir?"

"I will see you in the morning, to discuss the financial loss of some police transportation vehicles." I groaned. I was hoping he'd forget about the wrecked police bike. As if it were my fault, though it technically was.

Bluefield stalked away, muttering an undecipherable mix of "red star, symbols, and damn," and disappeared amongst a few police cruisers. Other cops took this as permission to investigate the fallen Dr. Pine. I persuaded Joy and Chansey to come wait by the ambulance, of which arrived during my fire talk with the Chief, while the investigators sorted everything out. All the while, she could do nothing but sniffle. I promised to visit her tomorrow, just to check in on how she was. Following that, I sent some fellow officers to pick up the contained thugs at the Center, commanding that they search their pockets for any identification or Pokémon in their possession.

I was just about to have a word with my sister about getting a ride home (you already know why) when there was a disturbance—or rather, uproar—at the Lab's front door. About a dozen scientists piled out of the entrance, each of them having a hysterically upset look on their face. They went straight for the police force, shouting out scattered drivel like "capsules, DNA, and worldwide disaster." Being easily interested in things like this, I decided to stick around and listen, keeping some distance back in case Bluefield caught sight of me still here. I'll leave this one to them...the scientists were in complete disarray.

"...Call the Kanto Intelligence Agency, or the IBI!" shouted one of them.

"Where's Chief Bluefield?" demanded another.

"This is devastating!" screamed a third. "A government-supported building is broken into, our lead researcher is dead, and worst of all, they run off with valuable specimens! Get the national force down here!"

A fourth was tearing his hair out. "These capsules mustn't fall into the wrong hands! If they do..."

"People, please!" A male officer whom I recognized as Nathan Williams tried to settle down the mob. "Back up, please, back up to the yellow tape! We are trying to do everything we can, given that we had just gotten here less than ten minutes ago. If you could please..."

"But the DNA...!"

"The specimens could be damage—"

"Call the IBI right now!"

"Where is Bluefield?"

Even seven backup officers had trouble keeping the crowd restrained. Williams looked flustered. "People. People! If you would be kind enough to...!"

"Get someone down here!"

"We need someone who can understand our situation! Someone with genetics!"

"I still say, call the IBI!"

"I need to speak to Bluefield!"

"The DNA capsules!"

"This is an outrage!"

"People, we're going to have to use force if you won't cooperate—" began Williams.

"QUIET DOWN!" roared a voice, the loudest of all. "QUIET DOWN, OR I'LL HAVE YOU ALL LOCKED UP IN A CROWDED, SECURED CELL!" I shifted my gaze over to the left of the outbreak. Bluefield was jogging—how odd it was to see him jog—over to the front of the mob. All parties fell silent, not surprisingly. I took a few more steps back; I didn't want to take chances with the Chief right now.

The Police Head huffed like an angry Tauros. He waited a moment before speaking. "As you all know, it is very distressing to take witness to such a...tragic...incident. We are trying the best we can to close up this case as quickly as possible, but for now we need your cooperation. Creating a riot will not make our situation any better!"

"But this is a governmentally provided facility!"

"I still say we need national investigation!"

"Team Rocket could be behind it, for all we know!"

"QUIET!" shouted the portly Chief of police. He took a breath, straightening his tie and clearing his throat. "We will contact a higher authority...if necessary. In the meantime, I see no reason why you should be interfering with our investigation—"

"The key researcher in our entire facility is dead—!"

"He knew topics and understood results even we couldn't grasp—!"

"Our national government paid much money for our security—!"

"Not to mention being relieved of confidential data and results!"

A vein twitched in Bluefield's right temple. He was getting dangerously close to his limit. Yes, believe it or not, Bluefield has a limit. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. WE...will contact...a HIGHER AUTHORITY...if NECESSARY! Now move along, or I'll have the whole lot of you arrested!" No one moved; they merely stood with a wide-mouth look. Bluefield's eyes flashed wildly—he had snapped. "GET GOING! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE? GET GOING! NOW! ROUSE, WILL YOU? ROUSE, ROUSE, ROUSE!" He waved his hands about like the madman he was.

And immediately the crowd shrank away, none of the scientists looking back. Bluefield wiped his face with a silken handkerchief and gave a few more shouts to the poor officers who dared asked him if he was going to be all right. ("What a stupid question to ask! 'Am I going to be all right?' WELL, DO I LOOK ALL RIGHT TO YOU?") I decided to take my leave then, before I got into trouble again.

My sister patiently waited for me. "Well, sis." She gave me a taunting smile. The taunting smile, the one that only she would give. "I hope that didn't go over too badly with the boss. Still have your badge?"

I didn't return the smile. "You should talk. Remember the Pokémon Center incident? Yeah, really. As if you never did anything wrong! And yes, I still have my badge. What's more, I got let off my shift early."

"Goodie. Need a ride?"

"Funny you should mention that. I was just about to ask..."

"You came here in a civilian's car. Normally you'd be on your bike. I suppose it got wrecked."

"Oh, very perceptive," I said rather sarcastically. "It was nice of Joy to give me a ride here. She probably wouldn't have if it were any place else but here. She loved Pine..."

"What, like the not-so-hidden Oak and Ketchum Scandal?" My sister grinned that one-of-a-kind grin.

"Doubt it. It was more of a 'good friends' relationship. Now, if you don't mind, shall we get out of here? Bluefield will flip if sees me still here. I'm surprised the entire squad got back earlier than expected..."

"It was nothing too serious. There was a fire inside a house, but from what Williams told me, the firefighters managed to put it out quickly. No injuries, either, and the force couldn't even find the drunk who started it. Quite a waste of police time, if you ask me..." She sighed, gesturing towards a little sidecar on her bike. "Hop in."

"I could have died on my way here, you know," I muttered, getting into the seat. "Eighty miles an hour down Main Street. Really. I'm amazed that I'm still alive."

"I'm more amazed that Bluefield didn't put you on suspension," my sister replied, releasing the kickstand and starting up the motor. "And he gives you the night off. Of all people."

"It wasn't even my problem! He make it look like I'm the cause of all this."

"Well, that's Bluefield for ya. Tries to throw the guilt on the first person he sees. The faster he closes a case, the better his ego."

I didn't get to answer to this, since we were already speeding down the street, onto the freeway, and down into my residential area, woe upon any poor creature that got in our way.

------------------------------

10:35 P.M, Residence of the Narrator, Officer Jenny

There we were—154 Morfic Avenue. My sister came to a screeching stop in front of my house. I quickly got out of the vehicle. Without much doubt, I liked my sister's driving just as much as I liked Joy's.

"So keep out of trouble then. Enjoy the evening while it lasts." She waved as she took off again, leaving a long trail of exhaust. I marched straight to my door, unlocked it, and stepped inside, hoping that I could at least get a decent night's rest before facing Bluefield in the morning.

I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter before pulling out the Poké ball containing my Growlithe. Enlarging it, I released him from the container for the evening. I rarely kept my Pokémon inside their holders when at home.

"Growlithe." He growled in an affectionate sort of way.

I stroked him on the head. "You did well tonight. I wouldn't have been able to stop those crooks without you."

He replied in a dignified manner, sitting straight as obedient as a trained Pokémon should be. I nodded to him approvingly. "And have yourself a good evening."

"Gruff!" He parked himself in front of the main door. He generally chose that spot for his night's rest, mainly to keep a sensitive ear out for any intruder that might want to break in.

Best security guards ever, Growlithe. Many people spend thousands of Pen just to keep make sure thieves wouldn't ransack their house in the night. Fancy alarms, lights, police activators...really, it's not necessary. Just keeping a Growlithe in the house has the worth of maybe three alarms, a police activator, and a full security team--I'm serious. And besides, they make loyal friends with their trainers.

I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. Getting into my nightgown, I reflected upon the day's events, as well as the priorities I had to attend to in the morning.

Ah, I just remembered something. That riot with the scientists. I pondered the idea of calling up the IBI...it seemed like such a distressing occurrence. Team Rocket? Valuable DNA? World peril? Not to mention Andrew Pine's murder. And what about those thugs at the Pokémon Center...surely they had something to do with this...didn't they? Bluefield didn't seem all worried about it, only stressed out by the onslaught of dismayed civilians. He always wanted to give then impression that everything was under control, even if things really weren't. His reputation over the goodwill of the victims; that was the true Bluefield. Yeah, I should call up the national security in the morning. I felt morally obliged to do so. Bluefield likely wouldn't thank me on his hands and knees if I did, but whatever.

Pine was a world-renowned researcher...AND the facility was provided by the government. So, obviously the national investigation bureau would want to hear about it (assuming the media didn't inform them first--the sirens were loud enough to crack windows). Yes, that's what I'll do. Just in case Bluefield didn't bend his pride, I would call the national security first thing tomorrow morning. For the sake of Joy and her love to Pine. For the sake of humanity and all living things. Time to bring in the pros. Just in case...just in case...

Ah, well...I'll worry about that when the time comes. I got into bed, wishing for nothing more than a refreshing little sleep.

Unfortunately for me, that was exactly what I wasn't going to get.

Unknown to me at the time, I was in for a rough night...

And I'm not just talking about bad dreams.

The first chapter...FINITE! Once again, please submit a review and/or comments if you get the chance. In addition, any ideas or advice you have are welcome while the plot is still young.

- A.G.M. Mendelssohn