Part 2:
Chapter 11: Lost Souls
Woodland Labs was a total loss. The morning sun revealed the full extent of the damage under tranquil glowing skies. Team Rocket agents had been summoned in from all over to manage and perform damage control over the loss of their primary research lab. Survivors were pulled from the rubble while chilling news of the nights events passed from mouth to ear. Their Boss, Giovanni, had been found near the wreckage of his personal helicopter, alive yet unresponsive. He had been severely psyburned, his eyes open and staring at some point in the distance, as if all the hatred and malice he could muster were focused in one place. Another helicopter had been called in to airlift him to a hospital for further evaluation, but the outlook was already grim.
This was an "all hands on deck" disaster, and by morning Giovanni's lieutenants had been contacted and notified. The still morning air was broken by more helicopters, and even more vehicles on the ground as teams of Rocket agents began to comb the woods around the remains of the lab. On the heels of the news of the Boss' sudden hospitalization, was the very terrifying discovery that they had all gotten out. The helicopters were dispatched to scan the surrounding forest and hills and to assist the ground teams. With the situation now on its way to being contained and controlled, the final members of what was left of Team Rocket's command structure now moved onto the site.
"What a mess," Cassidy commented under her breath.
"We had suspected this would happen, which is why we had taken precautions for such an event." Butch, her partner and fellow Team Rocket Elite said just as softly. "But we didn't foresee the Boss getting caught up in it."
Cassidy kept any other comments to herself as their helicopter landed. Once the pilot gave the okay, she unbuckled her harness and smoothed the few wrinkles in her blouse. Gone were the days of the black mini-skirt and red "R" on her chest. She and Butch had since moved on and up in the ranks of Team Rocket, becoming the two most trusted agents closest to the Boss. When disaster struck, as it often did, chain of command defaulted to them. Well...them and one other senior Elite team.
Butch and Cassidy stepped out of the helicopter and onto the broken concrete of what was once a parking lot. Immediately the surrounding agents paused in the work and saluted before returning to their tasks. "Were you able to contact the other Elites?" Cassidy asked.
"They said they would meet us here." Butch stopped for a moment to answer questions from their subordinates and issue more orders. Cassidy continued on her own, then saw someone waving to her and walked over to greet them. He had almost lavender colored hair and brilliant yet playful green eyes. He sat leaning on the handle bars of a rather expensive motorcycle, which was in a strange balance and simultaneous contrast to the dark blue three piece suit that he wore. A helmet sat on the seat behind him next to a briefcase that was strapped down with bungee cords.
"Hello Cass."
"It's been a long time James," Cassidy extended her hand as James dismounted and reached forward to take her hand, then pull her into a friendly embrace.
"You look amazing." James smiled, letting her go. "Short hair and a pants-suit do you a lot of good."
"Well thank you...where is Jesse?"
"She can't make it. Got into a bad car accident earlier in the week. The only reason I left her side is because this damned thing wouldn't stop ringing," he pulled a black pager from his pocket and held it between his thumb and forefinger as if it were tainted. "So the labs finally went up eh? You would think that after the first one, the Boss would have given up the Mewtwo project. This was bound to happen sooner or later."
Before Cassidy could respond, Butch did it for her. "There is much valuable information still to be gleaned from the project, and much progress had been made before this unfortunate event. But we did something this time that will prevent a repeat of New Island."
"Oh?" James smiled, his idiot's grin as always hiding something deeper and more sinister that his green eyes only vaguely hinted upon.
"A fail-safe." Butch stated, "The details of which you would already know if you had bothered to come to any of the meetings and reviews."
"I've told you already Butch, my days of running around the planet catching Pokémon are over. I wish I could say the same of my time in Team Rocket. But since I am already, quite literally, invested in the profit margins and shareholder stakes of many of the Teams enterprises, the loss of one of their major R and D facilities is going to affect the accounts considerably. My sole concern is this: How do you intend to recover the lost inventory, and will any of that inventory cause any more collateral damage while it's on the loose?"
Butch glared through James' condescending tone. Cassidy spoke up before Butch could, doing her best to smooth their tempers before old rivalries could flare up again. "It's a fail-safe built right into their DNA. Inspired by the work on Big White. Without weekly injections of a special formula, their DNA will become unstable, and they will either rapidly age, or undergo organ failure. If they do not return to us, they will perish within a year."
James sighed heavily, then put hands in his pockets and began walking through the rubble. "This is why I cannot be an agent among you anymore. Numbers on a screen are more easily digested and dealt with than blood on your hands."
"You were the one calling them 'inventory' a moment ago."
"Yes I was... I don't want any part of this recovery operation. I'll file with the appropriate insurance agencies, and follow up with next of kin and other needs from the deceased once those numbers are confirmed. But beyond that, I don't want to hear from either one of you unless its asking for a funds transfer from one account to another."
"Still a soft spot for the Mewtwos?" Butch sneered. "They are numbers, nothing more. Escaped lab rats."
James paused, then picked up an unassuming, battered grey box from the rubble. It was a micro hard drive, one of the interchangeable kind that was designed to moved from computer to computer with ease. "Numbers huh?" he studied the sides and noted the serial number along the back. "Two is a number. But you never met him, so you don't know that what you are dealing with here are not just Pokémon. Team Rocket has created rivals for humanity itself." He clandestinely slipped the drive into his suit pocket, then started back toward his motorcycle. "I've got a lot of work to do, keep me posted. Looks like the two of you have just gained the promotion of a lifetime. Butch and Cassidy, the two new Bosses of Team Rocket."
Even Butch's sneer faded. "He's right. With the Boss out of the way, we're free to do as we like."
Cassidy spun on Butch. "What do you mean 'do as we like?' the Boss isn't dead. He trusts us to keep the organization running in his absence. If he does die, then we will honor his wishes and summon his next of kin."
"A next of kin that has already said he wants nothing to do with the organization. And a daughter that is in as much as a vegetative state than he is."
"No Butch. The Boss is tougher than you are giving him credit for. We keep the organization running, and that's it." Cassidy noted the smile curving Butches lip, and couldn't help but feel the first of many wedges being driven between them.
A call went up from a team of agents combing the debris, loud enough to even give James pause. An excavator using a winch was drawing up wreckage from one of the lower levels. With another cry of caution, the remains of a fragile glass cylinder was brought into the sunlight. Butch and Cassidy put their bickering aside and approached the cylinder. A curse slipped from Butches lips and Cassidy found herself returning the swear.
The only offspring of Big White was gone.
M68 ran. That was all he could do. It was all he knew how to do, was just run. Up until a week ago, his entire world had been cold grey walls, punctuated by the occasional battle against one of his kind, then being led back to his cell for more observation and training. But now...now the stimulation of his environment was too much for him to handle. Sometimes the world around him was very bright, with a big glowing yellow ball in the sky that he didn't particularly care for. At other times the world was dark with a vast expanse of soft deep blue overhead and black shadows on the ground. The dark was much more easily tolerated than the light. His environment was far too open, the dark reminded him of comforting walls, and walls were familiar.
There were also other beings, so many creatures that ventured forth to sniff at him curiously. M68 ran away from all of them. Where there were Pokémon, there were also humans. And he had learned to fear humans. Humans brought suffering and abuse. He didn't like suffering. It made him nervous, and when he became nervous, it had an obvious effect on everything around him. He had come to peace with himself long ago that his abilities were a bit on the extreme side. Poisons, all manner thereof flowed from his fingertips as easily as breath flowed past his lips. The grass under his feet withered, trees lost their leaves as he passed by them, and any Pokémon that came too close soon fell to coughing or deep sleep in his presence. So M68 went deeper into the forests, gradually learning to avoid the human settlements and even the other Pokémon as he drifted further into his isolation.
The bright yellow ball had risen in the sky seven times, and the dark had come six times since his escape. He was hungry, tired, thirsty, and his body ached from some deep, unknown hurt. As much as he tried to avoid humans, they had always been a mainstay for his survival in the past, so now he sought them out. Humans would have food, they would have medicine. Even this deep in the wilderness, he found them.
There was a group of four of them, along with a few Pokémon sitting beside a fire. M68 didn't want to anger the humans, or even make them aware of his presence, but he could smell food in their bags. For a few moments he slithered around the edges of the clearing, using all the stealth his trainers had taught him to avoid alerting the Pokémon. Finally he had an idea. He took a position upwind, and spread his fingers wide. Powder, soft and blue drifted from his fingertips, covering the camp. Within a few moments the humans began to yawn, and the Pokémon began to snore. M68 congratulated himself and began to go through the backpacks, shoving food into his mouth as he found it. He came across a small bag filled with potions and thinking they were food, opened one up and drank it. He coughed suddenly and spit the rest on the ground, but noticed that he felt better.
He held his breath and drank the rest, then chased it down with a deep draw on a canteen to cleanse the taste from his mouth. He felt so much better now, the inner hurt had faded, and he could move like his old self again. He emptied one bag of its contents, filled with things like clothes and small electronics, and used it to store the rest of the food and potions in. Before he left, he tossed another log on the fire, then slipped away into the trees.
The bright yellow ball rose and dipped in the sky, and the white ball came out when the yellow one was away. He watched it change, saw it come out in what he came to know as "day," but the dark sky was always his favorite. M68 had to admit that he was getting good at his wilderness survival. He had staked out a small cave, and turned it into his home. There were more humans that had come around, looking for something he supposed, but all it meant was that he had enough food and potions to keep him happy. Out of curiosity, he started taking some of the electronics with him. They contained moving pictures and sound, and through them he learned vocabulary to further color his world.
The yellow ball was the Sun, and the white one was the Moon. They ruled the Day and Night. M68 didn't like the day, but he loved the night. The Pokémon around him were many. Bug types, Grass types, Rock types, all types. Some of the electronics held information on Pokémon, others kept him entertained with "movies" or were used to contact other humans. One day he picked one up that contained a newscast, reporting on a Pokémon, or a group of Pokémon that were attacking trainers in the mountains and taking their food. M68 laughed because he was doing the same thing! More trainers were coming in from all over to find and put an end to this problem. The news cast ended with a segment on how important it was to not feed wild Pokémon.
The next time he returned to his cave to find that it had been ransacked. The packs he had taken to carry food in had been pulled from the deep recesses of the cave and laid out in the open. He could smell human, and knew that it would be unwise to go back into his home. With shock he suddenly realized the reports were talking about him. He was the threat that so many humans were coming for. M68 could no longer stay, he had to move on, and keep moving. He had come to enjoy this freedom, and didn't want to get caught again, to return to the cold cell and isolation.
He began to follow an erratic pattern, venturing deep into the forests or mountains when he had enough food and potion stocked, then cutting close to the roads and trails when his supplies became low. He put the humans to sleep and sometimes fought the Pokémon that were immune to his poison attacks, then took what he needed and moved on. There was always that ache within him that the potions couldn't fully erase, only ease. No matter how many of them he drank. The amount of trainers he encountered on the roads and trails were beginning to grow slim, and so he ventured closer and closer to the villages and finally cities. What had begun as isolated attacks in the distant mountains now made the news as entire streets of people found their homes robbed.
M68 was feeling worse. What had begun as one potion a week, was now becoming a twenty potion a day habit. He had to stay close to the human cities for a steady enough supply, but he also knew that he couldn't stay in one place long. The weather was getting cold and travel was going to be impossible in his condition. Maybe if he could just stay the winter in one place, he could rest up and be on his way in the spring. He found an abandoned structure a mile or so outside of a small city. He wasn't sure what its purpose was at one point, but the walls were thick concrete, and protected him from the chill. In the dwellings he stole from he found blankets and pillows to keep himself warm in addition to the food. But potions were getting harder and harder to find, so he had to travel farther away to acquire them.
On the days it snowed, M68 could only huddle under his blankets while watching the pictures on his electronics. From them he learned to built a fire for warmth. And for a week or so, he was cozy and warm. The snow fell thick and heavy outside, stopping any further scavenging runs. His potion supplies and firewood ran low, but the weakness had long since taken over his body. Something was wrong within him, and no amount of potions was going to stop it. He grabbed his favorite pillow, snuggled under his favorite blanket, and mentally prepared himself for his body to join the cold world around him.
Distantly he heard thumps and footsteps invade his sanctuary, but he was too weak to move. Familiar yet resented forms gathered around him, dressed in black with red lettering on their chest. One of them knelt and brushed the blanket away to expose M68's leg. On his leg was a bar-code and number. The human removed a scanner from his pocket and read the bar-code with it.
"We have located M68. Barely alive, database says its a poison type. Please advise."
"Capture alive and bring back to base. We can take it from here."
M68 didn't have the energy to struggle when he saw the humans pull Pokéballs from their pockets and bags. His freedom was taken from him, but at least the inside of the Pokéball was nice and warm.
Loud noises in the hall awoke M47 from a sound sleep, well, as sound of a sleep as he could manage while tied up and burdened with a suppression collar. He had just managed to blink away the last dregs of a dream when the door to his cell flew open wide. But instead of the usual form of his trainer, or even Dr. Blackwell, there stood another Mewtwo. One of the twenty that had been left after the last round of tests. The Mewtwo waved to the cells occupant, gesturing for him to leave. M47 wanted nothing more than to follow, but the restraints and more importantly, the suppression collar were working against him.
The Mewtwo left the door frame, then started running up the hall, M47 could hear other doors slamming open, and more of his kind fled past his doorway. M47 called out for help, struggling against his restraints and the suppression collar. Finally one of the others slowed at his door frame, and peeked in with a grin. M47 knew her, she was light blue in color with deeper teal tones along her belly and tail. And she was the resident bitch. Above her eyebrow she wore her bar-code as a mark of pride. The location of the bar-code on a Mewtwo showed their dedication to their human masters. A code on the extremities, a foot or tail, meant they were practically feral, but a code on the chest, neck or face was a mark of trustworthiness. The fem's official designation was M62, but she had earned favor with the humans and thus had been given an actual name. Candy.
Candy approached M47 with the same grin, one that made him unsure if she was actually going to free him or just kill him outright. She instead reached out and drew her hand seductively along M47's chin and to his shoulder, and with a flick of her wrist, freed him of his suppression collar. Can't let our best little breeder get hurt now can we?
M47 felt the suppression collar fall away, but waited until Candy had left the room. He already knew what she was up to, and if she had her way, none of them would escape, or she would do everything in her power to track them down and bring them back to their undeserving masters. But M47 had earned a name among the humans as well, and for the sake of the others, he had to buy them enough time to flee. He shook off his restraints and stepped into the hall to find Candy already rounding up the more timid Mewtwos, keeping them together with the force of her fists and feet as well as her temper.
Candy! M47 called out.
Candy turned, glaring at him with ice blue eyes. Fall in line M47.
Not today, or any other! Let them go! M47 growled. He knew from past matches with Candy that he had a narrow window of opportunity to best her. Once she crossed her aura threshold, nothing could defeat her. So he went for the best counter he could think of for the moment. With a surge of energy his body began to shift, growing in size, length and mass. Like the other Mewtwos that were developed in Blackwell's lab, his DNA had been mixed with that of other Pokémon, and chief among his was Ditto. Which of course gave rise to his given name; Copycat.
The transformation finished, and Candy found herself staring down a massive Onix that engulfed most of the hallway. It was a perfect transformation, the only thing that carried over from his Mewtwo form were not so subtle pink stripes down the middle of his back, arms, and legs. Candy stepped into a fighting stance, hissing at the challenge to her authority. Without a moment to spare, both contenders lunged at each other. Candy darted forward, putting all of her weight and energy into a Mega Punch, right on the tip of Copycat's nose. Copycat roared, but his momentum was enough to carry him—and Candy—forward through a concrete wall. Candy gained her feet quickly, dust caking her fur as blue light flickered over her body. For every hit that landed on her, she stored it to use later, but first she just had to endure a few beatings.
Is that all you have? She laughed mockingly.
Copycat had to end this fast. Her next strike would probably kill him. He glanced around to gain his bearings in the room they had broken into. It was one of the older labs that sat above massive gestation tanks that had since been decommissioned. The tanks were made for batch production of Mewtwo and other Pokémon. One more important detail came to his mind. Candy couldn't swim. He lunged forward again, and this time Candy chose to gather her saved aura energy to end the fight once and for all. She jumped with the intention of burying her fist in his eye, but Copycat faked at the last moment so instead of Candy landing her punch on his face, she slipped just past and came down on the floor with full force. The concrete shattered, small rocks and chips sent flying into the walls as supporting steel beams buckled. Both Candy and Copycat fell into the murky tanks below.
They sank to the bottom of one tank. Copycat was weighed down by his Onix form, and Candy was just dense muscle. Copycat began to glow again, returning to his Mewtwo form for a bare moment before taking on a new form as a Vaporeon. Candy reached up from the bottom in an attempt to grab and pull him down with her. Copycat kicked once and swam to the surface. He pulled himself to the edge of the tank and up onto a walkway, then resumed his Mewtwo form again. Down below he could just make out Candy's angry glare eight feet under the surface. Good riddance. Copycat thought bitterly, then looked up through the hole in the ceiling. With a grin of his own he transformed into a Pidgey and made his escape.
It wasn't hard to follow the other Mewtwos. He helped where he could, transforming into several different Pokémon to either clear blockage or create new pathways. Copycat was once again in Pidgey form when he tasted fresh air for the first time in his life. Down below him he watched the other Mewtwos run through the trees, heading for places unknown. His flight was disturbed by a helicopter attempting to take off, and his attention was drawn to the parking lot.
There in the lot, two old foes once again stood on the field of battle. Copycat knew one to be Giovanni, the Boss of Team Rocket. Everyone knew who he was. The other...was the First. The First had come, he had saved them. Just like they all had hoped he would. The others stopped to watch the outcome of the battle, when the First spoke. He told them to keep running, to get far away from this place and never return. Copycat wasn't going to argue. If they were to survive, they had to leave these horrors behind.
Copycat started flying, putting miles behind him even as an explosion filled the sky. He had lost track of the other Mewtwos, instead he turned his beak and wings toward the dawn and when his energy faded, he made a rough landing in a tree. His body reverted back to his Mewtwo form, his heart beat rapidly with the remains of his adrenaline rush. He fell partly out of the tree, landing on his back on the ground, and he would have been content to stay there if it wasn't for the voices of several humans nearby. He couldn't afford to be captured again, especially since he was already weak. He gained his feet and found some brush to hide in. Now that he was on his own, the thought that he didn't know how to survive in the wild tugged at him. He needed humans for food and protection, or did he? Copycat lay quietly for what felt like hours, listening to the voices to see if they were coming closer or drifting further away. He could smell a campfire burning, and through snippets of conversation he deduced that the humans were out training their Pokémon in the wee hours of the morning.
By the time the sun had rose, Copycat had formed a plan. He would travel the world searching for the others, making sure they were safe. And he would live up to his name as a copycat to do it. If humans were the enemy, he would use his ability to become human and hide among them. And he would find the First. The First had a lot of explaining to do.
Water was her biggest weakness. No. As always her biggest weakness was her pride. She had underestimated the little slut, and now she was paying for it. Why didn't they see that she was doing what was best for them? They had to stay here, with Team Rocket, in the care of their Masters to survive! She sank like a stone to the bottom of the tank, watching Copycat swim away as a Vaporeon, lost in the murky waters. No. Not like this. She couldn't die like this. Through sheer stubbornness she pushed herself along the bottom of the tank, then her hands encountered the glass walls. They had been designed to withstand all manner of force and attacks, but it was her last chance.
Candy kicked out in the water, her movements slow and hindered. Her foot connected with the glass, but with none of the power she needed behind it. This was not good. Remain calm, don't struggle, keep her movements at a minimum and focused. Gayle had trained her in this way. Panic was the real enemy, and even though there was plenty of need to panic right now, panic would block her ability to think. Wide sweeping moves were fine outside of the water, but here they were canceled out by the drag generated by movement. Slow moves, reduce the drag, short strikes. She placed her hands on the glass again, and focused her energy into making multiple short distance strikes. As she felt the glass begin to give way, she risked drawing her arms back further, using the newly generated current to help carry her limbs along.
Not like this, I'm not going to die like this!
Cracks spread along the glass and finally an entire section sheared off and gave way. Candy was swept away in the sudden rush, then dumped onto the floor where she started to breathe again. Air filled her lungs, and the surge of oxygen to her brain brought the mother of all headaches with it. Her vision blurred and she took a moment to Recover. She pulled herself to her feet and hissed. Those fools! If they leave our Masters they will die! Why can't they see that?! She turned her head and noted a countdown on a nearby computer. Blackwell had initiated the self-destruct sequence. Well...that would be a good enough reason to get out, wouldn't it? But the others couldn't have known that at the time. Once again Candy hissed and began walking, then running out of the lab, heading for the halls and tunnels she knew would carry her to the surface and the outside world.
The night breeze felt good on her forehead and through her fur. She had emerged through a hidden door into the woods. Good, that meant that she could cut the others off as they fled. The first she encountered was M39, a quick strike to the side of his head brought him down in a heap. She left him where he lay, then went to find the others. The second was a pink fem, clearly lost and clearly upset. She carried a strange white bundle but Candy could care less about what it contained. She yelped when Candy attacked her, bringing her down with another strike. Perhaps that one had been a little too hard, her temper was getting the best of her again. She left the fem behind, making a mental note of her location before setting out into the woods again. That little slut had to be around here somewhere.
Candy was able to capture two more, a pair trying to make their escape up a small nearby stream. Candy only had to incapacitate the male and the fem followed her. Candy carried the male, M83, and the fem stumbled along behind. They reached the pink fem, and Candy saw that she had indeed struck her too hard. But her white bundle was missing. Whatever, she moved to M39, who was just beginning to come around. Candy reached out and grabbed him by his second neck, and dragged him along. He balled up and cried out as she dragged him through the trees, and then to a hidden bunker. She stood guard, panting and hissing until all three were inside. She then followed, shutting and locking the door.
There was food there, and potions. Everything they would need to survive until their trainers found them. And by the sound of things outside, that wouldn't be long.
Butch and Cassidy stayed at the wreckage of Woodland Labs long after James departed. A few survivors had been pulled from safe-rooms and hidden secure storage lockers. A shout of joy had gone through the teams combing the rubble when Dr. Blackwell was found. The woman was a little scuffed and beaten, but she was breathing and already demanding a drink. Cassidy had changed from her pumps to a pair of boots to wade through the rubble herself when she encountered her trusted assistant, Gayle.
Gayle was younger than Cassidy, with a thin build and light blue hair. But for such a frail-seeming woman, she was phenomenal with the Mewtwos. She saluted and nodded as Cassidy came close, then turned to gaze at the forest around them again.
"Do you see something?" Cassidy asked.
"I'm waiting for Candy. She wouldn't have left."
Cassidy couldn't help but give a bitter smile. "She could have also made it pretty far overnight."
"You don't know Candy like I do. She'll be back." Gayle answered confidently. She folded her arms and continued scanning the treeline. Almost one hundred yards away, another shout went out from the teams there. Both Cassidy and Gayle began running to see what had happened.
Four figures came from the trees, their shapes became clear as they stepped into the light. They were three Mewtwos, led by a fourth with fur of light blue. Gayle smiled victoriously. "Told you Boss."
Gayle left Cassidy's side and approached Candy. Once Candy was within ten feet from her Master, she knelt obediently, eyes down with ears up and alert. The others behind her reluctantly did the same. Gayle stopped before Candy, her arms folded, yet with a pleased grin on her face. "Good job Candy."
I'm sorry. These three were all I could contain.
"I forgive you, you did well."
Master, I would like to continue the hunt. Find the others and bring them back.
"You will, but first you need your check-up, as do these three. We'll find them Candy."
Candy felt Gayles hand on her chin, her signal to rise. Candy stood, still keeping her eyes turned toward the ground. She had to be patient, she had to keep her temper in check, and then she would be rewarded. But right now all she wanted was to find Copycat, and rip out his throat.
