Chapter 5: A Tree's Shadow
Of the nine Pokémon popularly termed "legends," only two are not confirmed dead. Suicune – unlike Entei in Japan and Raikou in Nepal – did not perish battling the catastrophes of Eight-Seven; he emerged uninjured from the Three Gorges Reservoir as it drained. Suicune has not officially been seen since he swam into the Pacific, but in the years since 2031 there have been multiple unconfirmed sightings deep in Antarctica.
Zapdos disappeared after the death of his mate Articuno and the destruction of her nest and its contents. While researchers have documented the "Zapdos trace" phenomenon that began in television static at the moment of Articuno's murder and can be observed globally to this very day, there is no agreed-upon evidence that would point to Zapdos's present location or activities.
History of Humans and Pokémon, Chapter 6: Extinctions
I had barely managed to get myself wet when the shower abruptly sputtered and died, producing nothing after that but a faint hissing. The same was true for the sink taps, and when I'd salvaged what I could of my morning rituals I left the room to the revelation that the cold taps had died well before the hot. No one in the house was happy, and Mom was starting to put together plans to go fetch some water from the creek running alongside the Angelos' house when Grandpa Frederick Angelo came knocking.
This visit wasn't scheduled, and we hadn't even had breakfast. Gramps, however, was happy enough to explain. Their running water had gone out just a little before ours, and he was heading to town to figure out what was up with the system. His other workout plans for me were on hold, because I was to come with him in case the backup pumps needed to be hand-operated for a bit. He asked if we knew any Water Pokémon, and he eyed Philomena for a moment before deciding to recruit someone else "with more years on 'er." Philomena got pouty at that, but he assured her that her time for the big jobs would come.
We were all surprised when Dad volunteered to accompany us as well. "It's a good incentive to see how the town's doing," he explained, "especially given the first… well, hopefully minor crisis, if we can resolve it satisfactorily. I'll take the opportunity to see how everybody's getting along."
"Ya sure, given that specter of celebrity followin' ya around?" asked Gramps.
Dad dipped his head in a nod. "If anyone asks, I'm Alex Murphy. Or just call me Murkrow. No one ever looks twice at us anyway."
"I mean, you're not wrong," Gramps chuckled. "That why you chose that species of Pokémon?"
"…Sort of," Dad looked to the side. "Anyways, yes. I'll just be observing from a distance, checking how everybody's getting along. Maybe chatting with a few townsfolk. The rest is up to you."
"It better be!" Gramps poked Dad with a clawed finger. "Cause if the running water doesn't come back on soon, Lucinda's likely to start making people miss it even more. That gal's always been a firestarter and I'll doubt that's still just figurative, if public works aren't doin' their jobs around here…"
We headed into town, with Dad perched lightly on my shoulder rather than flying or making any attempt to keep up with my longer strides. As before, the first noteworthy point of interest was the New Moloka'i Marketplace, which in the span of three days had grown from four tables to over a dozen. Some Pokémon were even beginning to set up proper stalls, instead of just improvising with furniture from their homes.
We didn't take any time to look at what was for trade, though; Gramps knew where we were headed. In keeping with his determination to prove to his daughter that his head was back on his little shoulders, he had consulted the Hawai Atlas and found a street map of New Molokai, including the location of the pumphouse. It was near the southern edge of town, further inland than the rest, so we walked a fair stretch along streets lined with homes whose Pokémon residents were gradually finding their feet in their new lives. Dad took off from my shoulder and into the air, flitting from one rooftop to another, watching people from above. No one did ever seem to take note of him.
When Gramps and I reached the pumphouse, we found it had both a water tower and a residence attached to it: A wooden single-family abode like most of those in the town. The front door was wide open, as was every door and window, and as we approached we were hit by the smell of soap and fresh flowers.
Inside, we found a living room not unlike our own, though with some modifications such as a stone-tile floor instead of treated wood. In one corner, not far from the front door, was what appeared to be a small heap of refuse covered mostly by a blanket. The individual responsible for that was a Furret – a furry, serpentine, ferret-like Pokémon marked with brown- and cream-colored rings along its body, humming cheerfully in the voice of an elderly woman. There were also a few vases of fragrant, newly-picked flowers set on the table.
Upon seeing Gramps and me, the Furret put down the mop she'd been working with and approached us with a sweet smile, introducing herself as Deborah Taylor. Sizing me up, she immediately asked if I'd be so kind as to empty her mop bucket and refill it from a nearby stream, then add a bit of soap from the kitchen cabinet. Unlike with Mrs. Angelo, I was able to hesitate instead of instantly obeying, though when she turned and said she could just do it herself I acquiesced.
When I returned after a couple minutes, lugging two wooden pails up the hill, I heard a decidedly corvine squawking from the house followed by my stepdad yelling. I hurried up and in to find the Murkrow stumbling around, his head wobbling to and fro, while Gramps tried to steady him and guide him to sit on the floor. Ms. Debbie was beside herself, so full of apologies they were all trying to escape at once, and I asked what happened.
"Oh… poor Mr. Murphy, he'd just come in and I wanted to shake hands but his wings wouldn't do, so I went for his beak without thinking and…" she whimpered.
"I'll be alright," Dad groaned. "We're tough creatures. Just be more careful next time, please. Anyways, what…" He puffed and shook out his feathers, regaining himself somewhat. "What were you saying to Frederick that you're doing here?"
"Oh, a little cleanup," Ms. Debbie replied. "The last homeowner didn't seem to want to be here; seems to have moved out right on the morning of the Fourth, after the rains stopped. Never did do anything to maintain the water supply, I don't think, and I'm not sure he ever even went outside. Bit of a strange one. Found out about his departure early this morning when I went to make my tea and all the taps in my house were bone-dry."
"We know," Gramps replied. "We live on the northern outskirts; water went out there too. Water tower's empty."
"Right?" The Furret huffed. "It was supposed to last longer than this; guess people have been leaving their water running for too long. Not that it'll matter much in the long run, if the books are right about Water Pokémon being masters over liquid. Just need to find one who's willing to live here and work for an hour or two each day…"
As Ms. Debbie talked she resumed mopping, and Gramps found another mop and joined her before long, starting from the opposite end of the room. "Make sure to get under and into everything, now, dear; we want to make sure this place is perfectly ready for new residents," the Furret told him.
"You… said he was only here for three or four days," I ventured.
"Oh, he was a little bit of a slob, that's all. Oh! Could you go into the side bedroom and see if there's anything else that needs to be thrown out? May have missed a thing or two; I got a bit busy in there."
There were another two flower vases in the tiny bedroom, filling the air with fragrance. Both the floor and the lower walls had been mopped, the curtains had been taken down, and the pillows and mattress were gone. Everything had been scrubbed raw, though I noticed a few books on the shelf attached to the wall. Three books, in fact – not four, like what came with every other living space.
I found the fourth book in the trash can – Species Guide Series #134, How To Be A Vaporeon. I tried the touch controls on the back, but the book vibrated and made unhappy electrical sounds; I tried opening it but a lot of the pages were stuck together for some reason. Putting the other books aside, I took the species guide over to the trash pile in the living room, pulling back the blanket to slip it underneath. I ended up laying it on top of a simple paper sign that apparently had been stuck to a window out front, using spit or something as adhesive: "GONE TO NEW LEHUA."
"Oh, yes, but I do wish that youngster had been more responsible with the water supply," Ms. Debbie was saying. "I mean, everybody in town was depending on him for what they drink? Couldn't he have gone into the pumphouse at least once and—"
I suddenly realized why Ms. Debbie had brought in so many flowers and opened all the windows, and asked, "Speaking of which, where is the way to the pumping equipment? To the manual backups?"
"Oh, the hand-cranked ones? Door right next to the second downstairs bedroom and guest bath. You're not thinking of trying to run that all on your lonesome, are you, sweetie?"
"Just for an hour or so," I replied. "See ya in a bit." I quickly scrubbed my hands in the soapy mopwater and then hurried through the indicated door, closing it roughly behind me. There was a lot to the pumping equipment, but I went right for one of the largest spokes of the main horizontal crank and started pushing as hard as I could. It was dauntingly heavy, and I found myself pushing almost to the point of pain before something began to give. As gears began to turn and valves began to clank loudly back and forth I kept pushing, starting into a slow, circular march, trying to focus my disgust into my muscles.
From: Adam Cypress (acypress - at - harmony - dot - foundation)
To: Entellus Dare (the_geodude - at - harmony - dot - foundation)
Sent: December 9, 2036 7:09 PM
Subject: Recap
Thanks again for agreeing to help with this, buddy. This is to memorialize what we went over at the meeting.
The meeting with Cassius Cedar is at 9 AM; I'll pick you up from your dormitory at 8:40. You'll have a spot at the conference table next to him; you can sit or hover or whatever else suits you. Act friendly if Cassius tries to interact with you, but do not speak nor do anything else to out yourself. Human-to-Pokémon transmutation is a secret we've been keeping from the entire world; Cassius will think you're just a Pokémon hanging around the room. We expect he'll be focused on the video presentation when it starts, anyway.
You already know the video's contents. It's about your celebrated boxing career, about your losing battle with CTE and Professor Beech's experimental treatments, about Quincy's last-ditch attempt to regenerate the damage by introducing Pokemon DNA as part of your gene therapy, and about the miracle that he stumbled upon that led to your transmutation. Just stay quiet for it. Once the video's over and it's Q&A time, that's when you can let the mask slip and ease yourself into the proceedings. Answer questions about the process from your perspective, introduce yourself to Cassius, chat with him, whatever else suits the moment. Be completely natural; you're not on a script. We'll make sure we get some good photos of the look on his face, don't worry.
Make sure you're at your very best, Entellus. What we're asking of Cassius is enormous, but he's the single most critical remaining piece we need for the Harmony Project to move forward. Unless we get Cassius to come on board with his singly unique field of expertise, Lily's dream cannot be made a reality.
Oh, and be careful if you try to shake his hand. I don't want any other colleagues winding up in plaster casts thanks to your Geodude grip.
- Adam
It was over an hour and a half later that the door to the pumping station opened and Grandpa Angelo appeared, yelling at me to give myself a rest already. After I stopped I realized how much my body was aching, especially my legs – even though the crank had felt progressively easier to turn as the minutes wore on. It had been somewhat satisfying to look up at the mechanical gauge for the tower's water level every several turns or so, watching it rise and even watching it suddenly drop, meaning water consumption had begun. I wasn't sure how much water the pump was lifting into the tower per revolution, but based on how heavy the crank was it had to be moving a lot.
Still, though, I stepped back from the equipment, feeling a strange urge to keep pushing. Then I turned to Gramps and my knees gave; I fell forward and caught myself with one hand. Shaking his head, the Charmander directed me to sit while he opened a couple windows in the pumphouse to help get fresh air in. "You're gonna feel that tomorrow, kid," he cautioned, though there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes as he sat down next to me. "Not bad for your first go at hard labor."
"I was in a mood," I grumbled.
"Ehh, whoever that Vaporeon was, he's gone. Ticks me off that he'd just trash the place and skip out, but what's there to do about it at this point. Best to just restart the water and go on livin' without him, after we clean up his mess."
"His mess," I growled, gripping my right hand around my left fist. At that, the little Charmander's eyes suddenly widened and he stood up.
"Yes. His mess, Sebastian," he replied, an angry edge in his voice. "You clean it up, you fix what he broke, and you don't make a bigger mess trying to get back at him. Not in the name of justice, or revenge, or karma, or any other trash excuse you try to make up for whatever violence is goin' through your fool head. If I EVER catch you thinking like that I swear you will never see me or my family ever again," he snarled, fixing me with a glare. "Even though movin' away would break Leon and Lucinda's hearts, I won't have our home be next to a giant who can't control his emotions. Y'hear me?"
The change in attitude startled me enough to throw me off my train of thought. I nodded, my hands uncurling lowering to the floor. "Yeah, I… do. Sorry, Mister Frederick," I said quietly, looking down.
"Good. You're strong enough to punch a human's head clean off without even trying, let alone what you could do to most Pokémon. Remember that, Sebastian. And remember that harming other people, even if you think you're doin' it for the right reason, will stain you inside. It'll turn you into something that's less than human, less than an animal."
I found myself looking at my hands, shaped like a human's but steel-gray, and I nodded, letting out a long sigh. "Alright. I… yeah. I think I know what you mean, Gramps."
"Do ya now?"
I nodded again. "Professor Mangrove said that that was the worst thing about her work on Pokémon, especially when she was caring for ones that were hurt. They're all extremely resilient, but still – every now and again, she'd be called up to do first aid on one that was too far gone to save. All she could do in those cases was proceed to euthanasia, and since Pokémon don't respond to any known medicines or anesthetics, she couldn't just inject it with something to put it to sleep. She… wound up carrying a pistol, for putting hopelessly wounded Pokémon out of their misery."
Gramps winced at that. "Don't get where you're going with this, but… a pistol? Those are unpredictable as anything, especially if there's a ricochet. Why didn't she just knock their brains with a captive bolt and open their veins to bleed 'em dry like you're supposed to?"
"She tried that, has a veterinary background and all," I replied. "But… well, Pokémon all heal quickly and can regenerate brain damage in a lot of instances. Sometimes one would start to regain consciousness and seize up from the pain."
"Eugh," Gramps shuddered.
"So the surest way to instantly kill most Pokémon species, Miss Mangrove said, was a big enough bullet. But she also said that pulling the trigger always… made a little bit of her die, at the same time as her patient. Even when she was only easing its passing. She's sensitive like that, but I imagine that practically anyone would feel that way if they had to do what she did. So I think I get what you're saying about hurting people," I nodded.
"Not quite it, wasn't talkin' about putting sick and wounded creatures out of their misery," the Charmander said. "That hurts too, though, especially when it's livestock that's served you faithfully its whole life. Or a pet that loves you, and that you love back."
"Or a person that you love back. Like what happened to Mew," I shivered. "Dad and Professor Mangrove were searching for that Pokémon for years, she finally found it… then she had to put it down the same day."
"Mew," muttered the Charmander. "I don't remember that."
"You don't want to—" I stopped as the memories hit. Of the morning of July 7, 2036, of the television showing Professor Lily Mangrove standing ashen-faced at a pressroom podium in Toronto, her once-pristine labcoat marred by a huge blotch of dried purple blood and dirt. The topic of her announcement was a police raid on an illegal Pokémon combat arena, which she had accompanied due to tips that the recently-abducted Mew would be there.
I remembered the Earth's most beloved scientist struggling to form words, her hollow eyes staring into nothing as she tried and failed several times to start with the simple announcement that Mew had passed away the previous evening. As she went on, she began to shake; she managed to get out that she had spoken to the Pokémon and that it had understood her, confirming that it was a highly intelligent non-human life form – but the growing pressure of a brain hemorrhage had sent Mew into a seizure from which it did not recover, and she was forced to end its life. The world watched their sweetheart sinking to the floor behind the podium, blurting out amid deepening sobs that Mew was one of a kind and there would never be another, stammering something about humanity not deserving Pokémon. The press conference ended abruptly when Dad, having flown in overnight in response to Lily's messages, rushed her off the stage—
"Seb?!" Gramps had hold of my forearm and was jostling it. I shook myself back into the present day.
"Sorry, I—" I started, before I was interrupted.
"Dang am I glad I missed most of the 2030s," the old Charmander shook his head. "C'mon, get up and get a bit of circulation back into your legs. Miss Debbie and your stepdad are probably wondering about us, let's head back over there. Got a few other visitors, too."
As we headed toward the door, Gramps stopped for a moment, noting the bubbling of conversation beyond. "Or maybe more than a few." When I opened the door, it was to several dozen Pokémon crowded together into the spacious main room, chatting excitedly.
There were at least ten Charmanders among them, and so many other species that they didn't register with me. Many of them turned to wave when they saw me enter, and I managed to raise my hand in a weak greeting as well, my arms already sore and stiff from the pumphouse. Dad was waiting to greet us, though when he saw me he asked right away if I was alright, then confirmed with Gramps. I was directed to sit again, while Dad explained what had happened in Gramps's absence.
"We'd had a few people coming and going, but I think most of the town was waiting for the water to come back on its own. When it did come back and it was tinted brown, that's what got a lot of people coming out of their houses to see what was going on. Ms. Debbie's been letting everyone know that it's just due to the mineral buildup in the pumpworks and that they need to run their water for a little bit and it'll be better."
"And some are staying around to socialize?" Gramps asked.
"Yes, it appears that Sebastian here has inadvertently sparked New Molokai's first community gathering. Ms. Debbie's been doing an excellent job greeting everyone, letting them know what's going on, and letting them know that they have Sebastian to thank for bringing back any running water in the first place. Even if the supply's still pretty short. On that note, Ms. Debbie's been asking every visitor if they know any Water Pokémon who are willing to—"
"NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME, YOUNG WOMAN!"
Ms. Debbie's voice was coming from the kitchen and was molten with anger. The Furret had risen to her hind legs and curled downward to loom over the Delibird she had pulled aside, apparently for an argument that was boiling over. She was twice the size of the red-and-white penguin-like creature she was yelling at, and she was pointing a finger in its face as it tried to retort something. The Delibird bit back its words as the rest of the room fell quiet.
"YOU DON'T PAY NO WATER BILL, YOU DON'T PAY NO MORTGAGE OR RENT OR TAXES, YOU GOT FRESH, CLEAN WATER ALL OVER THE ISLAND JUST BEGGIN' YOU TO DRAW SOME UP, AND YOU GOT THE NERVE TO COME IN HERE AND GET NASTY WITH ME?! YOU WANNA GO THERE?!"
The Delibird rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "I'm just saying that the water authorities could do a better job of—"
"THERE AIN'T NO AUTHORITIES IN THE HAWAI REGION!" Ms. Debbie yelled, right into the Pokémon's face. "THE ONLY REASON YOU'VE GOT ANY TAP WATER, AT ALL, IS BECAUSE POOR SEBBY OVER THERE'S BEEN BREAKING HIS BACK TO GET IT TO YA! NOBODY PAID HIM, NOBODY EVEN ASKED HIM, HE JUST WENT AND DID IT OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF HIS HEART! BUT I DON'T SEE NO KINDNESS COMIN' OUTTA YOUR HEART, MISSUS! SO MAYBE I SHOULDA TOLD SEBBY TO JUST GO BACK HOME AND LET EVERYONE BE THIRSTY!"
That was enough to set the Delibird off balance, her arms dropping to her sides. Dad was cringing, his feathers puffed defensively, as the tirade continued. "NOW HARDLY ANYBODY IN TOWN KNOWS ANYBODY ELSE YET, BUT THAT'S CHANGIN', AND IF SOME DELIBIRD NAMED CYNTHIA IS GOIN' AROUND BEIN' AN ENTITLED LITTLE SNOT THEN WORD'S GONNA GET AROUND REAL FAST! SO YOU CAN EITHER SHOW SOME BASIC DECENCY TOWARD YOUR NEW POKEYMAN NEIGHBORS, MISSUS," she pointed toward the front door, her voice raising an octave, "OR YOU CAN JUST GIT OUTTA NEW MOLOKAI!"
Dad's beak fell open at that, and he was about to start toward the kitchen when Gramps laid a paw on his back, motioning him to not intervene. For a moment, Cynthia was staring up at the Furret in shocked silence. Then, she looked down at the floor, capitulating. "I… okay," she squeaked. "I'm sorry, I… I don't want to be thrown out, I—"
"Did you come here alone?" Ms. Debbie asked, and there was something different in her voice. Her tone was plain, even gentle, and the accent was fading.
"I… did. What do you mean by that?" Cynthia asked, suddenly looking up suspiciously.
"Nothing except that you should take the time to meet some people, Cynthia," the Furret replied; conversations around the room were gradually resuming. "No one's going to kick you out of your house, though you'll have a very hard life if you try to get by without knowing anybody. So I suggest you don't go home right away. Try to introduce yourself to some folks and be nice to them, you hear? Now I've got to check on how things are going; I think I saw a Buizel come in," Ms. Debbie said as she turned and hurried off – though not before giving Cynthia a pat on her tufted head.
Dad, Mr. Frederick Angelo, and I were all silent for a moment. Dad spoke first. "That… was…"
"It ended well," Gramps nodded.
"You said that Mrs. Angelo gets like that when she's angry?" I asked the Charmander.
"Nope. Lucinda's a lot worse."
"Geeze," I muttered. Cynthia was still in the kitchen, looking shyly from one group of Pokémon to another.
"Ms. Debbie's a treat, by the way," Gramps grinned. "I talked to her for a bit. She used to be a mayor, little wide-spot-in-the-road town in Arkansas. Place was dirt poor so she relied on unpaid help to get pretty much anything done, and it sounds like she was good at roundin' up volunteers whenever the time came, especially retirees who needed to get off the couch. Place was small enough too that she was able to deal with most problems by just working with people, or by… well, you just saw what she'd do if someone ever got out of line."
"Scream at them?" I asked.
"If that's what it took. Says that if someone made trouble and she was able to sort them out without getting the county and the law involved, she was doing her job right. To keep a community closely knit, sometimes you need to stick in a few needles, to hear her say it, heh heh heh."
"If she was involved in governance before joining the Harmony Project," Dad ventured, "Did she say if she has any such plans now?"
"I asked, and she said she'd have to get to know more people in town first before she could take on any sort of responsibility for them, and that's depending on how this place's government even takes shape. I mean, she was just elected by voice vote of a town meeting and she wasn't ever – hey, you wanna go get some fresh air, Adam?"
"Hm? Sure," the Murkrow replied as Gramps hurried him away into the crowd. I started to rise to follow, but was stopped by a young woman's voice. It was Cynthia, holding a large, frosty pitcher of water in both her flippers.
"H-hi…" she muttered shyly, looking aside. Though she was a foot taller than most of the Pokémon I had met, I still dwarfed her by a long shot. "I… um… you were working a lot, and I thought… would you like some water?"
I accepted the pitcher with a smile and a thank you, as well as the glass she had brought, and poured. It was when I had taken my first mouthful that something dawned on me, and I looked down at her. "Wait… how is it so cold, Cynthia? Is there something else up with the taps?"
"N-no, I just…" the Delibird squirmed and fidgeted, looking down. "I drew some of the heat out after I poured it, I thought you might like it better that way."
"I mean, it's great, it's the first time since coming here that I had a drink that's actually cold. It's just… you can do that?" I asked, while pouring another glass; I had emptied the first in a hurry.
"I guess. It's an Ice Pokémon thing," she replied. "I could have cooled the water until ice started forming, but I've broken a few of my own glasses before when practicing, so, I, uh…"
"I mean, I'll take it." I hadn't realized how thirsty I was, as I filled the glass for a third time from the rapidly-draining pitcher. "How's that work; you just cool things down?"
"It's… well, it's more that I draw the heat out of them into myself. It's pretty easy, I just put my flippers on something and focus on its temperature. The book made it sound really neat, all these big scientific words about how Ice Pokémon defy entropic principles or something, but it's just… something my body does. If I don't do it often I start feeling really cold inside; that's supposed to be a lot of how my body sustains itself. Since I barely get hungry."
"Barely get hungry… that's a first," I smiled. "The Charmanders we live next to are up to five full meals a day."
"Right?" Cynthia smiled slightly as well at that. "There's so many Charmanders, and they're all like little furnaces needing to be stoked all day. Me, my pantry is mostly preserved meats and fish, especially fish. The pickled herrings… I never thought I'd like those, but oh, they're so good."
The mention of pickled fish brought back gastric memories from when I was missing half my guts, compounded by all the cold water sitting in me. I changed the subject quickly. "So, what was it like coming to the Hawai Region? I heard you came by yourself?" I asked.
"S… sort of," she blushed and her head lowered, and I felt guilty for bringing that up. "I applied with my family, but I… guess they didn't come. I guess I haven't actually seen them in months; they stayed behind when I came to this island for Phase One and the gene therapy."
"How'd that work, when they did the video at the start of Phase Two? With the… memory and perception alterations, whatever all that was?" I asked.
Cynthia winced her eyes shut, and I was about to tell her to never mind when she began speaking. "It started like any other day. I got out of bed, pulled on a long shirt, went to my computer and opened up my chats. Every day was like that, I was between jobs for… well, for years, really," she gave a sigh. "Then everyone on my friend lists started sending me this video and saying I needed to watch it, I tried to ask them what it was but my messages all failed to send, saying I'd been unfriended. My friend lists were empty, the chat servers stopped working too, it got really spooky… then I opened the video and it immediately turned full screen… I yelled up from the basement but mom and dad didn't answer…"
The Delibird was silent for a long moment, staring down at the floor. "Then… well, when the video was over, I was sitting at a study desk in a bedroom. My computer was gone; there was only this letter addressed to me. I opened it, and it was from my parents. They said that they hoped I could finally make something of myself, do something useful with my life… now that I was on my own. They'd been planning to kick me out as it was, thought they were a bad influence for letting me sit around so long…" She shook her feathered head slowly, still looking at nothing.
"Mm." I nodded, letting out a sigh. "My life was like that too for awhile, was physically disabled and too sick to do much of anything but surf the internet and play games. It was never really fun, though, since I was always feeling sick either way; all the screen did was… distract me. Maybe I'd have liked it more if my body worked."
"You wouldn't have, trust me," Cynthia replied. "I was perfectly healthy, just… couldn't ever pry myself away from the distractions, and that's all they ever were. Just distractions. Now I don't have them, and I've got to… well, it's like mom and dad said, I need to do something useful." She stepped a bit closer, while I emptied the pitcher into my glass. "But it's all so scary now, I never got used to just… being around people. I'm not really good at anything either… unlike you, you're…" She hesitated, fidgeting with her flippers. "You're… so huge…"
"Hey," I smiled. "Ms. Debbie was being really hard on you, Cynthia. Don't pile it onto yourself," I set the pitcher and glass aside and leaned toward the Delibird, and she stiffened, her eyes widening. "You're good at making ice, and that means that all you should need to do to get back in Ms. Debbie's good graces is offer to come to her place and stock up her icebox," I assured.
Her face fell at that, and she looked at me, confused and seemingly hurt. "Stock it with… what?" she asked after a moment.
"With ice. That's… kind of a thing, since nobody has electrical refrigerators and ice is so scarce around here. I think every person in town would love regular ice deliveries, if you want to get into that business."
"Oh…" Her eyes went distant for a moment, then she nodded, still looking oddly downcast. "That's a good idea. I'll talk to Ms. Debbie. Thank you, Seb." She trudged off without offering to refill my pitcher.
"Er… okay. You're welcome—" I turned to see Gramps scowling up at me, his arms folded. "Er… hello?"
"What the hell, Seb. What the hell was that for?" He demanded, deep disappointment in his eyes.
"Huh?"
The Charmander looked me in the eye, studying my expression. "You really don't know what you just did? How hard you just snubbed poor Cynthia after she brought you cold water and opened her heart up to ya?"
"I, uh…"
Gramps sighed. "Ehhh, no loss, she prolly just wanted to hitch her trailer to someone who looked like a hard worker so she could hold down another basement. Good move telling her to try gettin' a job. But try to not just outright break the heart of the next girl who's brave enough to approach you, y'hear?"
My head swam for a moment, then I started. "Oh! I…" I looked around quickly, but the Delibird had already vanished into the crowd. "Er… oops. That… hadn't been on my mind," I gulped, face red. "I mean, since… well… er…"
"Since you used to be too decrepit, or since she's a Pokémon?"
"I mean… yeah, that too," I nodded.
"Yeah, takes some gettin' used to," Gramps snickered. I raised an eyebrow and he grinned, voice lowering to a whisper. "I mean, at least I'm not a bird married to a spider-bug-thing."
"Yeah, that would be pretty difficult to deal wi – ewwww!" I cringed when I realized whom and what Gramps was talking about, and the Charmander started laughing – though he suddenly stopped when Dad approached, following a Squirtle who was talking quickly about something in a young adult male's voice.
The blue turtle-like Pokémon was making excited gestures with his paws as he spoke and Dad was struggling to keep up. Looking a bit exasperated, the Squirtle headed right for my forgotten water glass, resting it across his three-clawed palms.
"Thanks, Seb. Nice meeting ya, I'm Jackson," The Squirtle told me before turning to Dad again. "Like this," he held the glass sideways in one paw. "A tall, wide wave that breaks in the middle first," He ran a finger along the outside, "And the break goes all the way to the end. That's a tube wave. You ride your board through the barrel as it rolls, get me?" He turned the glass in one paw and reached the other in, tracing down the inside.
Dad's eyes opened wide and he nodded, giving a sound of realization. "Yes! Yes, I do, Jackson. You want me to find a beach with lots of these… tubular waves?"
Jackson gave a chuckle. "Yeah, bro. Check around the beaches and see what ya find, lemme know. That's a deal, right? I figure out how to raise groundwater into the tower and keep it full for a couple weeks until Todd and Angie are ready to move in, you do some wavewatching during that time? Be my scout?"
"I, uh… yes," Dad replied, still shifting nervously. "Any… advice on where to start? I'm a bit new to breaking waves and what affects their formation."
"Don't go looking around Harmony Bay," the Squirtle replied, his voice suddenly serious, eyes set. "Whole place is penned in by land. Never saw a single wave worth going for in all the time I spent down there. Water's beautiful, but there's nothing to ride."
I reached in with a hand open to take my glass back, taking the opportunity to ask, "Are you a surfer or something, Jackson?"
Jackson replied with some kind of paw gesture, which he'd obviously practiced given that he made it work with only three stubby fingers. "Hang teeeeen, big guy. Or hang six if you're me, heh. You bet I am, and if your pa finds me a good enough spot I'm gonna move there and start building the new surfing capital of the world! Y'know, since the old one's gone and New Waikiki's beach is so lame."
"Nice," I grinned. "Hope you get a lot of interest. A lot of people here are… well, a bit shy about water."
"Oh, you mean the Charmanders? Yeah, that's no problem at all. Watch this!" Without warning, Jackson stretched a paw out toward Gramps's tail and clenched a tight fist in the air. As he opened his paw, an iridescent, thick-walled bubble expanded into view around Gramps's tail-flame, enclosing it in a sphere about the size of Gramps's head. The Charmander stiffened, looking at Jackson indignantly, but relaxed when the flame continued to burn as normal.
"Easy as that, dude," Jackson grinned. "Breathes just fine and can go on heads, too, in case I need to play lifeguard. Lasts a good chunk'a time, unless you just—" He took a couple steps forward and reached in with a clawed finger before Gramps batted his paw away, then reached back and popped the bubble himself. "Ah, alright, man."
Gramps smiled faintly at the Squirtle. "Thanks for the demonstration, son. You say you're going to be managing the water supply?"
"Yep, long as Alex upholds his end of the bargain. Remember, birdie dude, stop by every evening and let me know what you've found! I'll lay out a map upstairs."
Dad nodded. "Yes, that will be ideal. Now, shall we be getting back? I'd like to say our goodbyes to Ms. Debbie, since we haven't had breakfast yet, and…" There was a sudden, sharp growl from my stomach.
"And Seb here's liable to start seein' Porkémon instead of Pokémon if we wait any longer," Gramps chuckled. "Let's go home, boys. I made sure Lucinda knew to have everything around to start breakfast; she'll be waiting for us now that the water's come back."
From: Adam Cypress (acypress - at - harmony - dot - foundation)
To: Quincy Beech (qbeech - at - harmony - dot - foundation)
Sent: October 23, 2038 1:12 AM
Subject: Species assignment fallback code (stupid question?)
Hey Quincy,
I know the assignment code is kind of your territory and we're all really busy, on top of gene therapy starting soon. Still, I just wanted to check up on something regarding the fallback switch block, the one that randomly assigns a species from the "all-rounder" list if the personality quiz can't get a definite hit. It's been years since I studied this, but I thought each case in the switch block is supposed to have "break" at the end? They were pretty adamant about that back in school. I'm not sure if the programming language got changed; just was worried that the switch block might assign Charmander in every instance or something. Sorry to bother you.
Adam
(this message was automatically deleted by inbox filter rule: "no-code-questions")
Dad was in high spirits as we headed home, especially considering that he'd committed to spending two weeks standing around beaches and studying waves. His plan was to start out near our home and make increasingly broad sweeps of the surrounding coast, culminating in multiple-day excursions. "Not something I'm looking forward to," he admitted, "But I guess I was just excited to see how well things were going in town. How people managed to solve a problem by working together."
"Wasn't much to it," Gramps shrugged. "A Buizel had the skills to do a job that the town needs, but couldn't uproot and start working full time just yet; Jackson was visiting and offered to fill in in exchange for a job that he himself needs. Well… needs might be stretchin' it," the Charmander snickered. "But you get me. Just gotta hope the permanent help doesn't get lazy and let the town dry up again. How much is Todd going to have to work?"
"Maybe an hour or two per day once he masters water manipulation. Perhaps up to four hours if there's overconsumption," Dad thought aloud. "Which will be an issue of its own, especially if the population grows to the point that the Water Pokémon need to start figuring out how to use their powers for filtration and desalination…"
"And if they're spending all their time and energy on that, they might want something back from the folks usin' the water," Gramps said. "Town's gonna have to figure that out. No such thing as taxes or even money yet."
"If such things even have a place in a Pokémon society," Dad replied. "That's up to you, as citizens of the Hawai Region. The townsfolk don't know a Harmony Project professor is even among them, and I'm certainly never going to speak to them as an authority. That ended when Phase Two began."
"And if things go completely to hell?" Gramps asked.
"This is confidential, Frederick," Dad said, looking to the Charmander. "I'd rather you not disclose it to anyone. Professor Lily Mangrove is psychically monitoring the island, looking for significant emotional disturbances that could indicate something is going seriously wrong. Quincy, Cassius, and I stay in contact with her as well. We want to be aware of any problems that the people encounter, but it's imperative that we not step in unless the entire Project's existence is threatened, such as by outside interference. In all other circumstances, the Pokémon of the Harmony Project are on their own; I and the other Professors are but silent observers."
"So whenever we run into a problem, like we did today with the water supply, ain't nobody gonna solve it except us."
"Correct," Dad nodded. "It's up to you to figure out a way. And as we saw today, you'll find better ways to solve your problems than you would have before, when you were still human."
"When we were… wait a second," Gramps said, stopping. Dad and I stopped too.
"What is it, Frederick?" Dad cocked his head as the Charmander circled around to him, the two pairs of spectacled eyes meeting.
"You really think we're not still humans, doc? Underneath all of this?"
"I…" The Murkrow's eyes went wide as he stammered. "I, er…"
"I read your manifesto, the one you and Lily Mangrove wrote," the Charmander sighed. "I'd hoped a lot of that propaganda stuff was just fluff to convince people to apply. You're a smart guy, doc, and I'm just an old sheep puncher. But I can tell people weren't ever your field of study."
Dad met the Charmander's gaze for a moment, then looked down and away. "I was looking for something better, even before all… this. Before 2031, before the Pokémon. Lily was, too, especially after… after Toronto."
Gramps stepped forward and laid a paw on the Murkrow's back. "I can sympathize with you trying to build something new. There's a lot wrong with the world. The cities took all my kids from me, 'cept for Lucinda; I watched each of my children grow up and go to college and get chewed up and spat out by society. Lost all of 'em to the madness and the looseness and the drugs. Had to bury two of my sons, even. But if you're trying to get away from your humanity… I mean, is that what this whole Harmony Project is about?"
Dad shivered at those words, still looking down. He gave a tiny nod.
"This wasn't the way to do it, son. I'm sorry. You got a lot of things right with setting up our new homes, and I can't thank you enough for pulling my family out of poverty and fixing my brain. But you can't run away from your shadow, Professor Cypress. It's still part of you, and it's still a human's," the Charmander said.
We continued on in silence for a few minutes after that, until Dad muttered that he was going to check on the house and flew off. Gramps and I stopped and watched him disappear.
"Two of your sons?" I ventured.
"One overdosed, one… well, fell in with a bad crowd and got all full of funny ideas, thought those people were his everything, then he ended it all when they turned against him," Gramps said as we started walking again. "I was too sheltering; all my children went wild once they were living every day among other people. Even Lucinda prolly would have turned to empty hedonism when she was younger, if she weren't too mean and ugly to even bother temptin'."
"Ugly? Wouldn't have guessed that about Mrs. Angelo, given her personality – oh. I… yeah."
"Trust me, even a Granbull's face would have been an upgrade. But… eh." The Charmander sighed. "Sorry I upset your stepdad. It's just… I worry about this place. It's clear this project was rushed out the door, and I can't see stuff not going seriously wrong in the future. Maybe not in the short term, but… oh, what the hell. What the HELL." He had stopped as we were passing through the marketplace and was looking at one of the stalls that was being set up, by a Chansey and a Cyndaquil both wearing straw hats.
"What is it, Mr. Frederick?"
"Seb, I need you to look exhausted and bleary and half-starved from the work you were doin'. We don't got nothin' with us to trade, and these are gonna run out lickity-split so we'll just say you've been bustin' your hind runnin' the water pump, ask a huge favor that way. You ready?"
"I… don't get it. What are they—"
"Actual, fresh, poultry eggs. They must have found one of the domestic flocks that the Professors seeded. Come on, boy, start gettin' in character!"
Up until Gramps mentioned fresh eggs I had no idea that a Machoke could salivate so much. What followed led to perhaps the best breakfast of my whole life.
