Chapter 3: Freedom and Joy
Disclaimer: Orange you glad I didn't write another disclaimer?
~o~
The most violent movie Amber had ever seen had nothing on the surge of mindless battle that exploded out the second the red sky began to fade, though to be fair, her mom didn't let her watch those. Something about violent media causing violent tendencies? Amber didn't buy it, personally.
Charmander growled, practically vibrating with excitement. He leaped forward, eager to prove her mom's stereotype and join the battle, and she caught him mid-jump. "You are the size of one of that Nidoking's biceps! No!" From his whining growls, you'd think he was dying of a fatal wound, dramatic and keening. He twisted and writhed enough that she returned him, locking the sunglass ball to her belt with a clockwise twist. It vibrated anyways, but Charmander wasn't strong enough to get out of a lock…yet.
She tried not to see his accusing gaze; just let me go, it said. I've lived a good life, and I'd like to go out in a blaze of glory now, please.
Amber turned the opacity filter on. The top of the sunglass ball darkened to warm, clouded orange, and Charmander dropped his act petulantly once he saw it happening, before he vanished behind the filter.
At the Pokémon Center, battle raged. The shocked cries of trainers were just audible over the bellows and screams of their Pokémon, their personalities shifting as quickly and suddenly as the impact of a rusty hammer. Dozens of species, plenty of them strong and battle-hardened, locked in a violent war the likes of which she'd never seen. Spark showers died out from the trainer's poké balls, and though recall lasers shot out, none of the Pokémon could be returned.
Now that she wasn't babysitting her Charmander, the situation hit her like a homerun baseball bat. Really hit her.
These Pokémon were free.
A glossy-shelled Nidoking locked arms with a Beartic wearing a cloak of whirling snowstorm, while gouts of purple flame spat from a buzzing Vibrava against a crying Teddiursa's tawny fur. Big and small, rare and common, some species she didn't even recognize. A small Gyarados keened, thrashing against the building until part of the wall caved in with a billow of white dust, his wails agonizing.
This was what she'd wanted…
Now that the original shock had passed, some combatants faltered, casting glances at their trainers and halting mid-blow, even protecting some of the other humans with their own bodies from those still crazed. Some aimed to injure the humans, their blows precise, as if inflicting specific payback. More and more ran for freedom, some scared but most…shocked.
When a red-faced man's team turned, none of the Pokémon interfered to save him. He was still shouting obscenities, veins throbbing and eyes popping out when his Ursaring and Houndoom fell on him, hiding the carnage from view with their bulk.
Amber clapped a hand over her mouth, turned to the bushes, and threw up. Her throat burned, her stomach aching as she heaved long after she had no food left in her. What was going on? Yes, she'd wanted this, but not…like this! Most of those trainers probably didn't know they'd done anything wrong, and…even though mind control was wrong…
She'd wanted Pokémon to have free will. But it turned out she also wanted them all to be…good.
"They might have deserved it," Amber whispered, frozen slush running through her veins. A horrible snap sounded from within the scuffle, and she flinched, not knowing if it was damage to the building again or something else. Her arms shook, even when she tried to stop it.
Time must have passed, but it was like she wasn't there anymore, events washing over her without making an impact on her thoughts.
Through dull eyes, the end of the movie played out, the final battle fizzling into pained confusion rather than ending in a climactic burst of special effects. More fighters fell. More regained their senses. A few ran. And soon, the final berserkers were taken down, by the few trainers who'd managed to keep their partner's trust. Quiet fell then, weaving tense through heavy breathing and soft wails.
Numb, she found herself staring through a haze of collapsed figures at the red, red, red stripe of the Pokémon Center's familiar entryway. Drops splattered the glass. Someone swore.
"There's a kid here! Cover Kraner, now!" Faint protest met this, but another snap silenced them. Hands were on her shoulders then, pushing her firmly through the doors into a blast of crisp air conditioning. Her brain played catch up—when had she left the forest cover, exactly? Weird…
Sounds rushed towards her in a whoosh, and she sucked in a breath.
What was wrong with her?
Clamoring voices and strange beeping snapped in around her, as if the world were unmuted at once. Amber shook her head, the fog clearing in a second, finding herself in a sea of scared people. Grim nurses with familiar pink hair directed the chaos like traffic guards, banishing those with concussions and broken bones to sit by the far wall, and ushering those who carried the critically wounded deeper within the Center, human and Pokémon alike. Most of those standing around like her just looked lost, expressions curiously blank beneath dirt and electric wounds.
Her legs moved automatically at first, but her head was catching up, now. "Hey," Amber said, shaking the arm of a nurse, who shook her off with a curt order to get in line. Amber pursed her lips, turning to another nurse rushing past carrying a too-large pile of white towels. "Hey, I need—" But the anxious woman didn't even break stride, apologizing profusely over her shoulder.
"Those with severe injuries move to the front of the line!" a pink-capped nurse called out from across the tiled floors. "Do not release your Pokémon from their poké balls until further notice! Trainers whose Pokémon were outside their balls when the blast struck, we urge you not to approach or try to find your partners for the time being! I repeat, those with severe—"
Amber was already pushing her way to the front of the line, grey eyes wild. How long until the medical poké balls ran out of power? Her pokétch said only four minutes had passed since she last checked, but that couldn't be right, and the screen was flickering so strangely… "I have dying Pokémon!" she called out when she was closer. "Thirty six of them. Professor Oak sent me, their poké balls are going to run out of power, and…"
"Let me see," Nurse Joy said at once, brusque and efficient. Her sapphire eyes scanned over the contents of her bag, over Silvani, and Dragnor, and poor, withered Scarecrow, their tiny forms visible within their white-topped poké balls; her gaze lingered on the red stickers in triple bars with a diagonal slash, and her lips pressed into white lines. "These Pokémon are high-risk surgery candidates. We simply don't have the facilities and specialists to even attempt to operate on red-lines, even if our generators were functional! I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do."
Charmander's sunglass ball vibrated like mad as the nurse broke into another conversation, and then a second, juggling the insanity with prompt decisions and well-directed stress. Amber fought to get her attention again, the obvious flaw in the nurse's argument not lost on her. "I don't need an operation, just a charger! They can't wait for that—"
Amber grabbed Nurse Joy's arm, and froze as she was immediately fixed in an arctic glare. "Our power systems were damaged in the shockwave," Nurse Joy enunciated. "Our chargers, life support, and healing matrixes are nonfunctional. There is nothing I can do."
Her hand loosened and fell, and in moments she was ignored again.
No one was paying attention to her, wrapped up in their own problems. A brunette sobbed into her hands, a broken ultra ball in her lap, a tight-faced man rubbing circles on her back despite his own swollen eyes. Less injured citizens who nevertheless needed care of some kind sat in their temporary waiting area, a dozen or so, their injuries ranging from broken bones to frostbite. Pain practically radiated from that area, and most other people gave it a wide berth unconsciously—one teen had a Shuppet clamped to his bleeding arm, the fragile wisp eating her trainer's pain, but Amber doubted his now-manic laughter was an improvement.
"A mission," she said under her breath, adrenaline sharpening her senses to a chainsaw-blade high again. Their efforts couldn't be for nothing. "I have a mission! A super-important one!" The words of her father rekindled in her mind. "And when you can't solve problems yourself…"
She slapped both her cheeks, the impact jolting her into action. "Be obnoxious!" she said with a clenched fist, earning some odd looks from people around her.
"There are always people willing to help," her dad had told her, long ago. "But they aren't mind readers. In emergencies, you've got to set aside your pride to find them."
She ran to a pocket of people. "Hey, I need a poké ball charger!" Amber asked, grey eyes flashing, her ginger hair still soaking wet and probably looking like a yarn ball's sleep-paralysis demon. But the family waiting on news of their unconscious son didn't have one. The crying brunette was no use, and neither was crazy-laughing ghost dude. "Poké ball charger, or…something I can charge the Center's equipment with!" she tried again, on a grim, suited man whose face was all harsh lines, to no avail.
"Find an electric Pokémon," he recommended, surprising her. She nodded once before dashing away, a plan forming, and before the head Nurse Joy could stop her, she had scrambled up onto the countertop, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted at full volume:
"Does anyone have an electric Pokémon that didn't go feral?" Murmurs broke out at that. Amber realized they probably needed an explanation of sorts…but she really didn't have time! "I have a bag full of dying Pokémon in dying poké balls, and about ten minutes before they start popping out and…and dying!" There had to be another word she could be using. "They're badly hurt, so they might be violent before they pass on! Lots of them are dangerous breeds, like Salamence and Torracat! C'mon, people, this is an emergency!"
The murmurs swelled, people passing on her message to those who hadn't heard the first time. But no one stepped forward. "An electric-type move," she tried again, grasping at straws. "None of you have one? Not even in a poké ball—"
"No one is to release any Pokémon!" Nurse Joy called over her, stepping forward from the back rooms with a grim face and a clipboard. "We have confirmation that this strange attitude shift affected Pokémon in poké balls as well as outside! What's more, once released, Pokémon can no longer be returned to their poké balls at all. Until we know more, everyone, keep your partners in their balls, and remain calm."
"Apricorn balls still work!" Amber protested, her combat boots leaving black skids across the pristine, white countertops. "It's only the synthetic balls, and I can prove it!" Charmander appeared in an orange flash across her shoulders, his tail-flame burning high and his tiny fangs bared. Amber returned him immediately, and the Nurse sucked in a sharp breath. She pushed her advantage into the silence. "Release an electric type, and we'll all work together to calm it down and convince it to help us. Then everyone can have some apricorn balls, and it'll all work out, and—"
But her words quavered.
She didn't have enough apricorn balls for everyone. Even if she did…lots of the Pokémon wouldn't want to be caught again. Just like the Squirtle. But that was a problem for another time. "Does anyone have one?" she finished, desperately.
Silence reigned, and her heart thundered, breaths coming faster and shorter, and the analog clock on the wall kept ticking, ticking, ticking.
And then someone shouted, "You need to get out of here! I'm not gonna get killed by those things, and we can't help 'em. Dump the bag in the woods and run!" Shocked looks met throughout the room, but most either looked like they agreed, or wouldn't meet her eyes. No one argued back, anyways, which was practically the same thing. Amber's brain stopped, clicking away uselessly like a stuck watch.
Nurse Joy closed her eyes as the rush of voices swelled, some growing heated. "Stay calm! We'll bring the injured Pokémon to a safe room within the center. It's completely secure, even for an S-class species. There is nothing to worry about," she finished, her voice so firm it seemed to spread calm like a drug. Even Amber felt reassured, wanting so badly to believe in that tone.
"Come with me," Nurse Joy said curtly, pulling her from the countertop. Amber obeyed, scrambling to keep up as they exited the main lobby through frosted-glass doors, the hallway beyond dim and grey.
"Why didn't you say you had a safe room?" she asked, nearly giddy with relief. "I would've brought them there sooner if I'd known they'd be okay."
The Nurse didn't answer, her prim white heels clacking on the tile. Amber's smile faltered. "Uh…does it have some power after all? I don't know much about generators, but there's gotta be a million backups here, right?" Something was definitely wrong.
Amber frowned, her footsteps stilling. A safe room… Safe from what, exactly? Why wouldn't the nurse tell her beforehand—
"Wait!"
Both Amber and the Joy turned, as footsteps half-skidded down the hallway. A magenta-haired girl squeaked to a stop in front of them, doubling over to catch her fluttering breath. She wore a tidy white dress trimmed in pale pink, matching her starched hat and pale stockings. It took Amber a second to realize she was looking at a younger version of Joy, teenaged and apparently very out of shape, though her dainty figure didn't show it. "They need you right away, that Houndoom just woke up, and she's going into septic shock," she reported in quick gasps. "I can bring this girl to the safe rooms instead, since of course I'm not even certified for B-rank species' treatment, and also we can't find the extra ketamine stores, and we're going to lose the Fletcher kid at this rate."
Nurse Joy's eyes widened at this list, casting a look down the hallway, and then back at the younger Joy with a frown, suspicion kicking in. "You know we can't let a rampage occur, right?" she checked, her perpetually sing-song voice still musical despite her grave tone. The little Joy nodded sharply, her circular hair loops bobbing.
Looking as if she'd like to protest further, Nurse Joy hesitated—until a crash echoed from the direction they'd come. "I'd better go help, then," she fretted, knotting her fists in her own white dress. "I'm counting on you!"
Amber and the newest Joy watched her walk away. The pink-haired girl grabbed Amber's wrist, pulling her sharply down the hall. "Be quiet!" she hushed as Amber opened her mouth to complain, yanking her down a branching hall, steps quick and breath quicker.
"Where are we going?" Amber hushed, impatient but quiet. "And what was that other nurse gonna do? We don't have much time, only—" How long did they have? She opened her bag, and her blood ran cold. The medical poké balls were flashing red, dull and slow.
"The safe room would have prevented your injured Pokémon from hurting anyone else, but of course they still would have died," the little nurse-in-training reported, her familiar voice pinched with worry. "We simply can't have a panic. More panic. The situation is far out of hand. That's why she removed you from the room, too…"
Latching onto the words 'would have', Amber pounced. "Wait, so there's still a chance?" Did they have five minutes? Less? She didn't know. The red light pulsed eerily. "Well, I'll do anything! Is it super experimental, or like a dangerous procedure the Boss-Joys don't want us to know about? Why else would you get rid of her like that?"
The Joy-ette saw the red light and gasped. "Run!" she squeaked. She didn't need telling twice. Amber ran down the hall, forced to keep slower to stay with her guide in her ridiculous mini bootlace pumps—her own black combat boots beat hard on the tile—until they reached a utilitarian metal door. Joy scrambled with her keys, wasting precious seconds while Amber half jogged in place.
"C'mon—!" she complained, just as the door swung open into dusty black. Amber scrambled for her sunglass ball, pitching it into the gloom as Joy pushed past her. "Charmander, give us some light!" Fire bloomed in a steady campfire stream as the sunglass glow faded, casting weird shadows. Joy hadn't stopped moving, dragging cables thicker than Amber's leg across the room and clamping them into basketball-sized sockets. Charmander twisted to follow her, nearly scorching her white-booted ankles, his tail twitching with nervous energy. "Give her some room, Char, we don't have much—hey, do you need help?" she checked.
"Grab the bike in the corner and bring it here!" Joy said, gasping as she pushed a clunky old machine the size of a table towards her cable array. She raked her gaze across the dimness until she saw a bike-shaped shadow, grabbed the handlebars, and strained—the bike didn't roll, attached to a heavy metal stand, and she strained with it, metal screeching like a dying trash compactor until it entered the circle of Charmander-light.
"What now?"
"Arrange the red-line balls on the charger," Joy instructed, wiping her forehead, expression made grim by shadow's edge. She connected two different-sized cables with a black brick piece, sweat beading on her temples. "I…I just have to figure out how to work the alternator for this machinery. It should work, the old ports are the same, but the voltage types…"
"Yeah, yeah, got it!" Amber cut her off, pouring the entire bag of balls onto the bowl-shaped surface of the enormous charger. Little divots dotted the concave surface, and she snapped poké balls into them one by one, top up, the little Pokémon within staring up at her with terrified eyes in the red glow. "I've got this," she promised them, her hands shaking. Snap, snap, snap. "It's all gonna be okay, we've got this—"
A heavy click came from behind her. "It's ready!" Joy said hurriedly, a little too much surprise in her voice, and Amber sped up, clicking the last dozen balls into place with every beat of her thundering heart, hands sweating. She whirled, not sure what to do next, and Joy pointed at her contraption. "Get on, now!"
The lightbulb in her brain flashed. Amber laughed out loud as she swung her legs over the bike's seat, throwing her whole body weight into pedaling, a tinny whine growing louder as gears turned and magnets spun. "Awesome," she breathed, pedals spinning faster, until blue-white sparks flew from the connectors. The poké ball charger whirred to life. "Awesome! You did it, Mini-Joy! Heck yes!" Amber laughed, whooping out loud as the red glow slowly faded and the 'charging' lights flickered blue on each poké ball. Giddy relief nearly bowled her over, and she laughed more, as light as carbonated air.
Joy sagged, pressing a pale hand to her forehead, smiling in exhausted relief. "Thank the Origin," she gasped, laughing a little. ""We've got a little time, now…"
Amber's smile faded as Charmander looked at Joy sharply. "What now?"
Joy caught her breath, straightening back to her perfect posture, her smile eerily familiar and her lines sounding rehearsed. "Thank you so much for your help! I'm sure these Pokémon will be back to 100% in no time!" she said, beaming. "The power should be back on any second now," she explained. "In emergencies, the power systems are routed from Pewter and Pallet to nearby medical centers. We've already sent out a call for aid, so you won't need to pedal for long."
Amber took a deep breath. "And…if the power was out in Pallet?"
Joy's smile faltered. "Um. Pewter, then…"
"Porygon attacked Pallet, too," Amber pointed out, her legs fever warm as she pumped the pedals. "What happens if they did the same to Pewter?"
Silence fell.
"W-Well," Joy stammered, clutching two handfuls of her dress. "That…would be bad. L-Like I said, the voltage doesn't match the requirements for a poké ball charging station, so…" She gulped. "So the poké balls will charge extremely slowly, until the machine gives out or just stops working. Which, with such a low voltage could be…any time, really. And then these Pokémon would be ejected, and they might rampage through the hospital before dying… My supervisor never would have allowed such a risk, but I really thought that…that it could work…"
Things were never easy, were they?
Amber debated for a long moment, and then stopped the generator-bike. The wheels spun uselessly over the stationary stand until they slowed and stopped. She counted breaths, and didn't get far before the red lights shone from the poké balls once more. Charmander let out a worried trill, bounding back and forth as if wishing he could help.
"Right," she whispered, eyes squeezed shut. She pedaled again, and the charging lights came back on. "Right, right, right. No problem. We've got some more time, after all! We've just gotta go with a new plan. What about a high voltage? Would that work better?"
"Well, yes? But it wouldn't work for long," Joy explained. "The poké balls can store a fast charge without damage, but the machine would fry in seconds. But it would be enough to keep the poké balls going for a few weeks. Longer, if the charge was stable."
"Then that's what we gotta do," Amber muttered. "Alright, Mini-Joy, listen up—I'm gonna go get us an electric Pokémon, even if I have to catch it myself! Which means you need to stay here and pedal until I get back."
"What? But I… Do you know how uncommon electric Pokémon are here?" she protested, stepping back with her hands up. "I have duties, I can't just stay here. What if we get caught?"
"We're not gonna get caught," Amber said, going for 'convincing' and sounding a little like a con artist working a mark. "Trust me. Everyone's focused on other stuff right now. No one will come to an old equipment-storage room. You guys have Pikachu in the forest, right? Me and Charmander will go get one, and we'll be back before you know it."
"I don't know," Joy hedged, averting her baby-blue eyes. "I-I should really help the other Pokémon."
"This is way more important! You'll be helping save thirty-six Pokémon! You'd be a hero." Joy flushed sunrise-pink, and muttered something under her breath Amber couldn't quite make out over the whirring pedals. "What?" she said.
Her flush deepened. "I don't think I can pedal that long!" she repeated too loudly, twisting her skirt in her hands.
Amber stared. The only sound was the whirring generator bike. "You're kidding."
Joy refused to meet her eyes. "I-I have exams coming up, and I don't get much chance to… I don't have much interest in sports, so I don't… I'm not really good at this!"
Amber thought furiously. Maybe they could ask someone else for help…but with the possibility of injured Pokémon rampaging, would anyone else risk it? The other nurses certainly wouldn't. Her own legs were already feeling the exercise a little—the generator-bike was much harder to pedal than a normal one!
"You have to," Amber said at last, opening her eyes. "There isn't anyone else. I'll pedal for just long enough to let you rest, and then you've gotta take over. I'll be as fast as I can."
"But—"
"No buts! We have a mission," Amber said passionately, Charmander hissing with furious agreement at her side. "The stakes are high, and the game is in overtime now! And when I get back, we'll figure out where those weird Porygon came from, and help everyone get apricorn trees planted!"
"What? Trees? Why on earth—"
"Don't worry about it!" Amber assured her with a wild grin. "Tell me you're in!"
"I—" Joy began, her snow-pale face frozen. It was like her brain stopped entirely, before her gaze hardened with burning resolve. Amber had never seen a Joy look like that before. "Of course. I… We have to try, right? I'll do my best!"
"That's what I wanna hear!" Amber cheered, looking utterly wild with her frizz of half-dried hair sticking out over her flushed cheeks and gleaming grey eyes. Charmander spat out a bigger burst of flames, the edges burning neon-citrus, and light danced off his epic sunglasses. She could practically hear the guitar solo.
~o~
