As usual, I'd like to thank everyone for tuning in to today's episode of Pokémon Peril! And yes, it is just Pokémon Peril now; for a variety of reasons, I elected to drop "Brotherhood" from the title. The plot will stay the same, though, as what I planned originally.
This chapter, at roughly 4,500 words, is the longest one out of the first five. Although I do plan on having longer chapters than this, I figured this was a good point to ramp things up.
Current music: Animal - Neon Trees
By the end of the shift, Brett's arms ached as though he'd been using a rowing machine for over an hour. The combined odors of hay, sweat, and the stale air inside the barn seemed to have been permanently absorbed by his clothes. They would never leave his pants and shirt, no matter how many times he ran them through the laundry later.
Given all of this, one could be forgiven for thinking that the news anchors at OKNN wouldn't want to talk. They wouldn't give a platform to some random youth who worked on a ranch and smelled terrible.
Truth be told, Brett didn't know what to wish for. If he gave the interview and ended up being wrong about the impending invasion, he'd be eating Murkrow for a long time to come. He'd be the talk of the town, no, the continent, for a while, and not in a good way.
But if his vision was correct, it was best to let the truth get out there. That's what he told himself in order to calm his nerves about the scheduled interview.
When the shift was over, and the trio were heading back to their vehicles, Brett saw a white news van parked next to his car. In giant scarlet letters, the letters OKNN had been painted onto the side: One Kanto News Network.
The driver of the news van waved at Brett as he saw the youth approach. "You're coming with us, Mr. Porter" he said.
When he was younger, Brett had heard countless cautionary tales from his parents about how he should never accept a ride from a stranger. Back then, he'd thought that it was an obvious point to make: Of course you shouldn't go off with someone you don't know and trust.
And yet, he was now about to defy this advice. Although he wasn't a child anymore, Brett still shivered as he opened the side door of the news van and climbed in. It's for a good cause, he told himself.
In the back of the van, there was a sleeping Blaziken in the seat next to the one Brett had selected for himself. The heat was also on full blast despite the outdoor temperature.
"Uh, sir, why is the heat on?" the youth asked the middle-aged driver.
The driver shrugged. "Lockhart there is a Fire type, so he likes things hot. If you've got a problem with that, you can get out of the van, go home, and never tell the world what you want them to hear."
"I'm not going to" Brett insisted, wiping the sweat off his brow. "It's not just what I want them to hear, it's what they need to hear."
"Then stop complaining about the temperature inside the van" the driver replied, turning on the van's engine and pulling out of the driveway.
The heat inside the van started to make Brett feel rather sleepy too. Before long, his eyes were heavy, and it wasn't much longer before he had joined the Blaziken in slumber. Fortunately, he didn't dream this time.
What felt like seconds later, the youth woke to the sound of the car parking. He opened his eyes to see that they were in what looked like an office park.
"Where…are we?" Brett asked groggily.
The driver turned to face him. "This is the studio, of course. We'll just have you answer some of our questions, and then you can be on your merry way. Follow me, please."
Brett did as he was told, getting out of his seat (he noticed that Lockhart the Blaziken was still sound asleep, and was even snoring slightly) and following the driver out into the late afternoon sun.
"Welcome to OKNN headquarters here in Cerulean City" the man told Brett. "Head up to the interview room on the seventh floor; the elevator is out of order, so you'll have to take the stairs."
"Sure thing" the youth replied confidently. Six flights of stairs couldn't be too bad, could it?
Midway through the third set of stairs, however, Brett was already short of breath. Like an elderly man with a cane, he found himself holding onto the railing for support as he took step after step. He had not expected to be so tired, so soon, but the ranch work had really taken its toll.
Once on the seventh floor, the youth searched the hallway for the interview room. It didn't take long for him to find it, since it was clearly marked as such.
Inside the room, there was one human and one Pokemon. The Pokemon was a Lucario who sat in a nearby folding chair, whereas the human was a woman who looked almost as though she could have been Libby's mother.
Brett sat down at one side of a small table (the blonde woman was sitting on the other side.)
"Good afternoon, Mr. Porter" the woman said. "I'm Clarisse Clarion, and I'm going to be the one asking you questions today. I expect you to answer honestly, because Lucky here can tell if you're lying. And if the matter you're discussing is so important, it's imperative that the world knows the truth."
As Lucky the Lucario waved at the mention of his name, Brett nodded, gulping. He'd had no inclination to lie, of course, but to be told that the Lucario could tell if he was lying…that added some extra pressure to the interview.
"If at any time, you do not wish to answer questions anymore, you are allowed to leave. Anything you can say will be written down by Lucky."
How the hell does he type with claws like that? I suppose he's used to it, but that's still pretty crazy.
"What's your first question, Mrs. Clarion?" Brett asked the interviewer.
"The first question is this: How much do you know about the UFO convention that took place in the Bongwater District of Saffron City?"
Brett snorted. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask: Why is the district called Bongwater?"
Mrs. Clarion clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "I didn't name it, but it doesn't matter. What is the extent of your knowledge about the UFO convention that occurred there?"
The youth frowned as he thought up his answer. He knew, of course, that the convention had happened, and he also knew that Ash Ketchum had attended it. Brett knew how to quantify his knowledge, but he didn't know how much he should say.
It doesn't matter how much I say if Lucky truly is a lie detector. Maybe he can't detect lies of omission. But either way, why would I lie about this?
Brett sighed, realizing that no matter what, Mrs. Clarion and her supposedly lie-detecting Lucario would expect an answer. Indeed, Lucky's attention was no longer on his laptop; rather, he was gazing intently at Brett.
In the end, he decided to tell the truth.
"I saw some of it on TV" he said as forcefully as he could. "I know that Ash Ketchum attended it, and I know that he was there mostly to see what the fuss was about. He doesn't actually believe in UFOs, does he?"
"I wouldn't know" Mrs. Clarion replied snappishly. "Very well, then…next question. What did you think when you watched that event on television?"
In the midst of Lucky's claws frantically dancing across the keyboard, Brett had to think of what to say next. Fortunately, the second question was easier to answer than the first one had been.
"I was pretty shocked, I'm not going to lie. Ash Ketchum is a Pokemon Master, pretty famous the world over. He has a reputation to uphold, so why would he blow it all by going to the convention? Even if he had a point, of course."
Mrs. Clarion frowned. "What did you think of the symposium itself? Did you think the attendees are rational individuals, or are they crazy?"
"How should I know? I can't go inside their heads."
"I'm not asking what they think, Brett Jonas Porter'', Mrs. Clarion replied, pursing her lips.I'm asking what you think. Do you believe that the people attending the conference are justified in what they think about aliens coming to Nexus?"
"Well, again, I don't know what reasons they have, so…".
Mrs. Clarion stood to her full height. She was taller than average for a woman, but still noticeably shorter than Brett.
"Once more, that is not what I asked. I asked you a simple, binary question. Yes or no? Do you think that-".
"Fine, yes" the youth replied, feeling steam rise in his throat.
His interviewer blinked. "Yes?"
Brett shrugged. "You asked me a yes or no question. I'm saying the answer is yes, that I think these people have reason to believe in aliens. I mean, given the size of the observable universe, it seems stupid to think they're not out there somewhere."
"That doesn't mean they're about to invade. Mr. Porter, have you heard of Teddy Nickelback?"
Brett nodded. "Yes, but how is he relevant? He's just a fallen rock star who's crazy enough to think he'll be Kanto's President when the aliens come. Either that, or he's grifting. One of the two."
"And how do you know what Mr. Nickelback believes?" Mrs. Clarion replied.
The youth's heart raced faster than a stock car at a major race. This was it; the moment this interview had all been leading up to. This was make or break, do or die. Either they'd take him seriously, or they'd think it was time for him to go to the loony bin.
And yet, somehow, he felt more confident in the dream's veracity than he had before. This was probably because Mrs. Clarion had confirmed Teddy Nickelback's involvement in this UFO business.
"Because I had a dream. And it felt just like real life, if not even more vivid."
Lucky the Lucario burst out laughing so hard, his computer nearly fell out of his lap. Meanwhile, Mrs. Clarion snorted mockingly, as though she were making fun of Brett for saying such a thing.
"Oh boy, here we go again" Mrs. Clarion said, rolling her eyes. It seemed she'd done away with even the most basic pretense of politeness. "You call Teddy Nickelback a grifter, but you're one to talk."
"I'm not grifting," Brett insisted. "I really had this dream, so please hear me out. If, after I've told this story, you think I'm just looking for attention, then fine, chuck me in an asylum next. But first, let me tell you what happened."
Mrs. Clarion's eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits, but then she sighed.
"Fine," the woman replied. "I'll give you a chance. What happened in your dream?"
Honestly, it makes sense that she wants me to tell my story. If the media narrative is that I'm insane, or even if it isn't, that'll get OKNN more clicks either way. And ultimately, that's what they want, isn't it?
"Well", the youth answered, "I was in the middle of a dark field. It was pretty much absolute darkness; I couldn't see very much."
"Well, yeah, that's what 'absolute darkness' implies, Mr. Porter. Anyway, continue."
"And then the voice made itself known. It was the ugliest sound I've ever heard; like, I'd rather hear boots crunching against snow for one hour than that noise for one second. And that voice…well…".
"What did the voice say?"
"The voice said…something about our planet being in jeopardy. Yes, that's the word it used."
"You know what the word jeopardy means, I assume?" Mrs. Clarion replied, her voice rising a bit at the end of the question. Brett felt rather incensed as he nodded, grinding his teeth against one another. "My bad. So what else did the voice tell you?"
Brett didn't even hesitate. "They told me that aliens, a force known as the Green Team, would be attacking Nexus in five days. I guess that's four days now. So you'd better call in the Continental Guard or whatever."
Mrs. Clarion shook her head. "I'm afraid that is beyond my authority. I can send news of this interview to the Kanto House of Representatives, the Kanto Senate, and the President of Kanto. But ultimately, they'll use that information as they see fit."
The youth's heart rose as he realized what those words meant. It seemed almost unthinkable that a serious news agency would take him seriously…but then again, it was debatable as to whether OKNN counted as a "serious" news agency.
"So you believe me?" he asked Mrs. Clarion.
"Mr. Porter, that's not what I'm saying at all. Truth be told, I'm still skeptical of your story, but I have heard you out. Just in case the threat materializes, I'll make sure that the government is aware of the impending attack, and hopefully they will prepare for it."
Brett, of course, knew it probably wouldn't be that easy. Kanto's Congress was world-renowned for being inefficient; sometimes, it seemed, months would pass without anything happening, not that he kept up with politics very much. Even against such an existential threat, the youth was under no illusions that Congress would do anything within the next few weeks.
The biggest problem with that, of course, was…
"We don't have a few weeks" Brett insisted, clenching his right hand into a fist. "We have four days. And if nothing is done…".
"It's your word against all the experts', Mr. Porter. Even if they ought to listen to you, there's a good chance they won't. All that can be done is to try."
Lucky, meanwhile, had been typing up a storm on his laptop; Brett could practically feel the warmth radiating off of it; the Lucario didn't seem to be treating his computer very well. Of course, if the laptop broke down, that was none of Brett's business.
"Try your hardest to make them listen, okay?" the youth instructed the woman. "Because if you can't, we're all screwed."
Mrs. Clarion frowned faintly at Brett's less-than-formal language, but she didn't reprimand him for it. For once, it seemed as though she respected him.
"I will. Again, that doesn't mean they'll listen to me, but the transcript of this interview is going to be published online for the world to see. That is…if you're okay with that."
Brett didn't even hesitate. Figuring he had nothing to lose, the young man nodded. "I'm okay with that."
After a stack of paperwork almost three inches thick, which basically established that any harm or harassment that would befall Brett as a result of this interview wasn't OKNN's responsibility, and that the network had full permission to air his statements on television (not that he'd noticed any cameras in the studio, though they were surely there somewhere), Brett was told he could leave.
"Thanks for listening to me" the young man told Mrs. Clarion sheepishly. "I mean, seriously, thank you. A lot of people, like my boss, think I'm crazy."
"I mean, you might be. But sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Your statements, once they're processed by the studio, will air on the ten o'clock news tonight; now it's almost seven, so you'll be driven back to the ranch to get your car, then you can drive home."
Although the interview hadn't exactly been fun, time seemed to have flown by during it. Then again, Brett had been asleep for much of the drive over here. He didn't know how long it had taken to get to the studio.
The young man yawned, raising his fists in the air. "Thanks" he said, slowly standing up from his chair.
Mrs. Clarion frowned. "What are you thanking me for now, Mr. Porter?"
"You know what? Never mind."
The interviewer raised one of her eyebrows, but Brett didn't see the need to stick around. He left the room and made his way back down the six flights of stairs.
The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky as the youth climbed into the back of the news van. The Blaziken from earlier, Lockhart, still had his eyes closed, and was breathing slowly and evenly.
Unlike Lockhart, however, Brett was wide awake now. The van pulled out of the vast office park and into Cerulean City, and as it did so, he realized that he'd be lucky to get even a small amount of sleep that night.
Cerulean wasn't known as the city that never slept; that title was reserved for Saffron City. Even as his own interview lay in limbo between having been conducted and its publication online, Brett was all too aware that Kanto's largest city was likely reeling from the UFO convention yesterday.
It's really hard to believe it was just yesterday. I've only been working at the ranch for two shifts, but it feels like it's been so much longer.
The young man watched the buildings pass by outside the van's windows, but he didn't focus on any of the facades in particular. It's fair to say that he had thoroughly tuned his surroundings out, but one thing was clear: He was focused on what mattered most, which was keeping the planet Nexus safe.
Ash Ketchum, meanwhile, had spent a little over a day holed up in his Saffron City hotel room.
He'd chosen the hotel with the most advanced security measures, and had elected to avoid Pokemon centers entirely. The latter precaution had been for the simple reason that a Pokemon center is exactly where the media would expect him to be.
Of course, he'd made sacrifices in order to stay in the hotel room. Ash's muscles were practically screaming at him to run around with Coyopa; without the opportunity for some serious exercise, he found his toes tapping against the carpet. Whether this movement was voluntary or not, Ash couldn't tell.
Speaking of Coyopa, the Pikachu's eyes sank to the floor whenever he was let out of his Pokeball. Although Ash did this every few hours to give him updates about the outside world, the champion had started to wonder if this was truly the best idea.
After all, the environment inside a Pokeball was far more pleasant for a Pokemon like Pikachu, who demanded activity and fresh air. Coyopa would have loved nothing more than to run around in a park near the hotel, but Ash just couldn't allow that to happen, even if that's what he wanted too.
But why did Ash isolate himself and his Pikachu from the world? Why were they so determined to attract as little attention as possible?
In two words: The media.
Ash wouldn't soon forget the embarrassing interview with Vulpix News outside the convention center. Nor would he forget the cameras pointed directly at him and Coyopa after they'd left that UFO symposium.
Even now, hiding in the room at the Hotel Oiram, the champion could practically feel the eyes of Kanto upon him. It didn't matter that the blinds were closed; he felt like an animal in a zoo, countless eyes ogling at him from the other side of a cage.
And the hotel room was his cage.
Feeling as though he might vomit, Ash clicked the remote to turn on the TV. There was no need to scroll through the channels; he'd set the TV to the only channel he was interested in: One Kanto News Network.
The auburn-haired news anchor for OKNN spoke directly into the camera, a certain level of venom in her voice. Even so, she sounded more shocked than angry.
"We have breaking news out of Cerulean City this evening" the anchor announced, narrowing her eyes.
Ash started breathing frantically as his heart fought to keep up. An announcement that there was breaking news always got the adrenaline racing as the momentary suspense took effect: What was the news?
"Regarding the Saffron City UFO convention that occurred yesterday, starring such speakers as Teddy Nickelback, the plot has thickened. A young man from Cerulean City, just north of here along Route 5, has come out with some extraordinary claims."
The champion's heart slammed against his rib cage. He hadn't expected this, and he'd been hoping to avoid it. Of course, in a way, he'd brought it upon himself by bringing attention to the symposium; he wanted to facepalm.
"Brett Jonas Porter, age nineteen, of the Cerulean Region, has given an interview with our local affiliate in Cerulean City. And let me tell you, it is a doozy."
Ash felt his face flush and grow warm. One decision he'd made out of simple curiosity had such an insane ripple effect on the world. It was likely that tomorrow, that's all the world would be talking about; in the age of the Internet, news certainly spread fast.
"According to Porter, the knowledge of an incoming alien invasion came to him in a dream. A dream! Now, I don't know about everyone watching, but I think we all have dreams, don't we?"
The champion laughed nervously as the anchor continued telling her story. Apparently this Brett Porter character had told OKNN that the alien invasion would be occurring in four days, but, according to the anchor telling the world that, there was no need to worry, because the idea had only come from a dream, and Porter was probably just saying these things for the attention it would bring him.
Ash then saw a photo of himself broadcast next to the anchor's head, along with the caption: ASH KETCHUM: LIAR, LUNATIC, OR LEGIT? Before he could fully process this, before he could have any reaction to his face being plastered across the screen, the anchor resumed talking.
"Of course", she said, "this would seem to tie in well with the big story of yesterday. Ash Ketchum, sixteen, is the teenage boy everyone knows as the champion of the Kanto League. Yesterday, however, his name became associated with a dubious distinction: He is the first Pokemon champion known to have attended a UFO conference."
Ash could feel his blood simmer inside his body as the woman continued.
"Much speculation has been had, and will continue to be had, over how this alien invasion shenanigans came to be. Some think this is simply a mass psychosis, whereas others think Ketchum is lying in order to get more media coverage. If Ash Ketchum is watching One Kanto News Network right now, I would like to send him a message."
What on Nexus could she want to tell me? It's like, she's already helping the media humiliate me on the world stage, and she's not satisfied yet?
Also, even if this is a lie, I'm not helping to propagate it. I merely ATTENDED the conference. There's a difference.
When the news anchor next spoke, she did so in a rather high-pitched tone, as though chiding a much younger Ash for the transgressions she spelled out.
"Ash Ketchum, cut it out. There's no reason for you to be saying this. You might be looking for more media coverage, but that would make you a liar. It's wrong to tell falsehoods, and moreover, you've gotten more than enough media coverage as is. Wouldn't you want your attention to be positive as opposed to negative?"
"I'm not lying!" Ash bellowed, not caring that the news anchor couldn't hear him.
"Of course, there are other possibilities as well. Perhaps, Ash, you are honestly mistaken about the aliens, and are telling the world what you believe. I'm sorry to say that in that case, you are a lunatic and should seek help."
The OKNN anchor then made perhaps her most offensive facial expression yet. She pursed her lips in the smarmiest manner imaginable, as though she were openly mocking Ash.
"Remember, Ash, we all care about you. We all want to see you overcome your delusions and vices, and we all want you to be successful. But you have to help yourself first; call a mental health hotline, we're begging you."
As the champion felt his hands become clenched into fists and half the blood in his body pooled into them, the news anchor cleared her throat.
"Or, Ash Ketchum, if you think your information is legit…well, actually, of course you think that. But if you have evidence to back your claims about aliens up, then you've got a moral obligation to let the world know so that something can be done. In that case, the world will forgive you for sounding crazy."
The champion unclenched his right fist just long enough to turn off the TV. He couldn't stand to listen to this drivel anymore; it seemed OKNN was so determined to improve their ratings that they needed to tell blatant lies about him.
Of course, Brett Porter was the one claiming aliens would invade in the coming days, but he was a relative nobody. He certainly wasn't nearly as famous as Ash, so the media had less to gain from running a smear campaign against him.
Ash sighed and pressed the button on his Pokeball. In a flash of cyan light, Coyopa the Pikachu appeared in front of him.
The Pikachu blinked for a few seconds, then turned to his trainer.
"What did I miss?" Coyopa asked cutely.
The champion looked down at the floor, shaking his head. "A lot, Coyopa. A lot."
I decided to model Kanto's government for this story after the government of my home country, the United States. This is simply because that's the governmental structure I'm most familiar with as an American.
Also, this chapter was originally going to be titled "The Interview", but I try to avoid starting too many chapter titles with "The", and besides, I thought the three L's were clever. Finally, Ash got BETRAYED...by the media. Okay, put your pitchforks down.