8.
Two Pairs of Boots
I'm an AC/DC man, you can read my circuit diagram
I feed on electric jolts, I need fifty thousand volts!
For the record, Volkner did once use the wallet chain to secure his trainer ID and the keys to his gym. But now he wasn't allowed to call it his gym, and he had a new ID: a white plastic laminated card on a lanyard that labeled him as [MARCELL — BETA CLASS] and had a barcode and a big red R stamped next to his headshot. It was the kind of novelty that in less tense times he'd flash around at a penthouse party for laughs. He wanted to laugh at the lanyard now. He wanted to laugh at the baggy white breeches and the black turtleneck and the skintight gloves that came up past his elbows. He wanted to laugh at the whole ensemble. The silver utility vest striped with red in the center and marked with an R on the left breast. The laceless rubber combat boots James assured him were explosion-proof for some reason. The safety glasses turning his whole world purple. The black turtleneck he had to tuck in.
It somehow all fit snugly and secretly under his civilian clothes, and he'd spent two hours practicing ripping them off at a moment's notice to expose it. It was probably the most dignified thing he'd practiced over the past couple of days. (If Jessie told him to "project his voice" during the motto again, he was going to make her shampoo Electivire.)
But today was supposed to be serious. Today was a mission day. Today would determine whether he could flash the lanyard around at a penthouse party for laughs, or forever take it seriously and never set foot in the penthouse again.
"So all we gotta do is steal that Pikachu," he said, rolling his shoulders back and trying his best to vary his gait. So far his first "mission day" had involved parking the perfected mech off in a field, talking smack about "twerps" at a coffee shop, and now walking in circles around the same four blocks of Vermilion City. His feet were getting sweaty inside two pairs of boots, and his brain was already sliding into power save mode.
"You wanna watch your mouth when we're in public? I know you can," Jessie chirped on his right.
"What? I'm just asking. I'm new to this."
She knuckled her sunglasses. "You think this is a joke."
"I don't think it's a joke. I'm nervous that it's not."
"Swallow it. Your soul's been sold," Meowth rasped from below, knuckling his own sunglasses.
"Maybe that's true, but I'd like to see something happen today to prove it."
"If you stay vigilant, something will happen," James cut in at his left, knuckling his sunglasses and then knuckling Volkner's sunglasses for him.
Volkner punched the same crosswalk signal button for the sixth time, counting the seconds before the far light would switch. His eyes flitted over the congested intersection and all the idling clouds of exhaust dripping down onto the street. There had to be a more efficient way of conveying traffic here. Fewer lanes, maybe, and intermodality. A stretch of slanting sidewalks conforming to natural foot flow. A painted narrow passageway for bikes. Bikeshares. Bike racks in appropriate places. Smart bike racks, linked up to Rotom Phones. Rotom bikes.
The traffic lights shimmered and morphed before him. No more chipping industrial white hoods over the bulbs and default timer cycles. Make the boxes bigger and flatter. Give them a sleek silver wash. Renovate the electrical sensor under the street to combine it with advanced imaging systems and motion sensing tech above ground. And oh, please, those streetlights would benefit from the same deal. They were wasting energy staying on at full brightness all night long. Slap motion sensors on them to adjust the light needed on a gradient based on a pedestrian's distance from each pylon. Light achieved through solar cells charged up during the day, of course.
"Do you think it's possible for us to swing by City Hall? I wanna skim through this place's zoning ordinance and see what the specs are on view corridors in the area. If I can snag a variance for a solar walkway like the ones we have back in… Yeah, I'll watch my mouth now."
"As you should," said James once they reached the other side of the street. "Twerp at two o'clock, and Pikachu, too. They're heading into the Pokémon Center."
"Ugh, and there's his normie friend in the skinny-ankle sweatpants," Jessie added. "What a bad-fashioned little Lay School loser."
"Let's move in," Meowth growled. "See what dey're up to, change costumes if needed and hook 'em in our ploy. And don't even think about blowin' it, Volky. You promised us a paycheck."
"Who are you guys even talking about? The only Pikachu I saw was on a kid's shoulder. You're trying to steal it from a kid?"
He wasn't answered. The others shoved him behind, and together they skittered over to the Pokémon Center on tip-toes. The sliding doors opened to reveal an open waiting area and the front desk. He joined his teammates in the nearest booth by the window, pulling his own newspaper out of a pocket to match their rather intense form of nonchalance. Jessie gestured with an elbow over to where two boys sat in a booth across the aisle. One of them, with the bright blue eyes and the skinny-ankle sweatpants, was a total stranger. But the first one, wearing a vest and a cap and a Pikachu on his shoulder…
Volkner cracked a smirk. "That's Ash from Pallet Town. He's the kid who helped me steal Sunyshore Tower back from you guys. He won a badge from me, too. I was wondering if I'd ever see him again. So it's his Pikachu we're stealing. I'm not sure I can get behind that."
"Drop dat sympathy. Marcell ain't never met da kid. It ain't got nuttin' to do with you," Meowth muttered.
"Get cold feet, and you won't be Elite," James added.
"I… I don't have cold feet. All I'm saying is I hear that Pikachu is so strong it beat the Sunyshore Gym Leader's ace Pokémon."
Jessie scoffed. "Of course it can beat Luxray, dear. Raichu too."
"Neither of those are his ace, and now my chest hurts."
There were a few angrily-whispered words about "da microwave," but before any of them could stop him, he'd stood up from the booth and carried himself all the way across the room, right toward the Pikachu prize. Only a slight tilt of the head saved him from catching the two boys' attention. He'd caught a glimpse of the machine in the back corner of the waiting area. A great metal box of a thing, with a dark, flat screen and a bunch of square buttons and two crimson vinyl tubes protruding out like elbows from the sides.
"Well, spark my circuits! That's a Tradeco Mark 221! It's an antique!"
And he caught everyone's attention anyway, with the way he took off his sunglasses to reveal the purple-tinted sparkling eyes beneath. He ran to the old Trade Machine, tracing his fingers over its surface. A bit dusty, and the screen had a chip in its binding, but sheer nostalgia was enough to calm the electrical storm in his chest.
"I didn't even know Trade Machines had names like that."
"Of course there are different models, Ash."
"W'll, yeah, but why would you wanna call it a 'Mark 212?'"
"Mark 221," Volkner corrected, before freezing at the sight of the two boys beneath him, looking up with curious eyes. Looking… not recognizing… Damn, he thought, tugging on the sleeves of his plaid workman's shirt. These disguises really were useful. Or had the jacket and hair really been that iconic?
"It's a Mark 221," he smoothly continued. "The grandfather of current models. Look, it's even got the USB ports. You used to have to plug a cord into each trader's Poké Dex to transfer metadata along with a physical Poké Ball. Nowadays all that stuff's backed up in the cloud. You just have to scan your ID and transfer the Balls and it gets updated automatically. Wow, I grew up fixing these things, but I never thought I'd see one still in use."
"Actually, that old one's broken," Ash admitted.
"Yeah," said his friend. "Nurse Joy said the company's technician fee went up again, so it's gonna be a while. Hey, but maybe you could fix it!"
"Fix it, huh?"
He glanced back at his teammates still furiously whispering. James had pulled out a sketch pad and was designing disguises for the rest of them. Rocket improv stopping for nothing, it seemed.
Granted, he was the son of technicians, and mighty fees were part of the charm, but for a sweet old cord-burner like this, he couldn't help himself. It was plugged in, but no response from any of the controls, and secret keystrokes couldn't produce any error codes. A hardware issue, then. Corroded chip, most likely. He'd memorized what those were all supposed to look like just staring at them in the basement-turned-workshop he'd called home as a teen. Lying down on his back with one hand tracing along the toolbelt around his stomach, he easily pried open the panel on the side of the cabinet and thumbed through layers of cold metal stuffing.
To be sure, he could spend hours with an ammeter searching for one tiny busted conduit weakening the output. He could pull them like teeth. Mix them into Flint's popcorn. Tell Flint where he could buy more of them to mix into Psychic specialists' popcorn. "Pretentious low-fat crunchy snacks." Whatever. Tell Flint he needed a thicker skin if he was gonna let himself get bullied by other Elites. Honestly just skip the pranks and burn that clairvoyant creep's whole wardrobe to ash. He was Mr. Crispy, Professional Pyro. Take it all the way… jerk.
"The technicians must've done a recent sweep. Most of the hardware's been replaced with newer equivalents. But there were more chewed wires than I'd ever seen in there. You might wanna look into a pest problem," Volkner said, flicking his sparking fingers over the secret keystrokes and summoning a neon-bright display. Good he'd filled his toolbelt with treats from the Rocket stores that morning.
"Yeah, my buddy Pikachu's chewed wires on occasion. I didn't know you could fix 'em so quickly, though! You were just like, whirring around with your tools and then bam! The machine works now!"
"Not to mention you took your gloves off before touching them. Isn't that a little dangerous?"
Volkner leaned back against the wall, waving both hands above the boys' heads. The static tingling in his skin sent their hair spiking. "It's a talent," he told them.
It's nerve damage, said his ribcage.
"So what are you kids doing here today? Not trading Pokémon, obviously. You kind of look like gym challengers, with the…" Alternative for spark, alternative for spark, dammit we talked through this yesterday… "fire in your faces." Stop laughing, Mr. Crispy…
"Hey, you'd be right! My name's Ash. I'm from Pallet Town, and Pikachu and I have challenged loads of gyms all over the place! Just the other day we challenged Visquez at the Vermilion Gym! Her Electric-Type Pokémon were super strong, but we pulled through, right, buddy?"
"Pika!"
"And my name's Goh. I'm from right here in Vermilion City, and this is my partner Scorbunny," the supposed normie said, giving his white rabbit-like Pokémon a pat. "I'm more interested in catching Pokémon than challenging gyms. But I get dragged into Ash's battles anyway. He's participating in the World Coronation Series. Ash thinks he can actually face Champion Leon and win."
"Hey, I will beat Leon!"
"Did you see the size of his Charizard?"
"I bet you'll never catch Mew, then."
"I'll catch Mew before you beat Leon, dingus."
"You're a dingus! That makes it sound like catching Mew is impossible!"
"Er… Fine. We'll go our own ways. And as for that question, we're here because I already caught eight new Pokémon today, and Ash is trying to win just as many battle challenges. I think Visquez is really getting tired of rematches, so a Pokémon Center is a good place to find competition."
"She keeps jumping ahead of me in the rankings! Plus who knows how many Gym Leaders I'm gonna have to face down the line?"
"Who knows how many of them even take it seriously? Leader Raihan from Galar spends more time posting selfies than trying to beat Leon, and Candice from the Snowpoint Gym seems hellbent on getting even more attention than him. Like look at this, Ash. She's posting that dumb V Sign meme. What does that even mean? Do you know what it means?"
Goh shoved the screen of his Rotom Phone right up in Volkner's face. There was Candice, sprawled out on the bed in Flint's penthouse guest room, dripping wet in a swimsuit and sprouting a V from each hand. Underneath was the caption: [It's me, bringing the Chill back to #OneWordOneN~ TFW your best friend is in the #E4 and lets you stuff his pad with all your shopping bags~ If only this room had better lighting~ I wish an especially skilled electrician were here~ 3 #LetsGoV]
"I have absolutely no idea what I'm even looking at," Volkner lied through his teeth. "But let me see that Rotom Phone of yours. Maybe Candice has some other photos that could illuminate the meaning."
He reached out, but Goh yanked back the device, a slight blush warming up on his brown cheeks. "Not even worth it. I check every time Candice posts, and she never explains the meme. And why would she post swimsuit pictures when the photo-sharing part of the app is for battle highlights?"
"I think Candice just really loves to go swimming!" Ash cheered.
"I'm sure she does," said Volkner.
"Just like we all love battle challenges!" exclaimed the lavender-haired, plaid-shirted engineer popping up right beside him. "Don't we wire-workers just love them?"
"The back-breaking, heart-stopping toil of watts and volts brings us nearly to tears. Day in and day out we cough and strain from chest pain. But battles help to bring us back out of the maintenance tunnels and into the fresh air and sunshine!" the pink-haired woman in work gloves whined on the other side.
"Nuttin' better dan a battle to take away da pain of da tape on our hearts," added the little technician in the hardhat and face mask. "Wouldn't you agree, Marky?"
And "Marky" trailed one hand through his fluffy puff of blond, letting it spike into needles. "My colleagues are correct. I suppose I did just spend our lunch break fixing up this old Trade Machine. My sinus nodes have something to say about that. Ash, why don't you have a battle with me? I'm not in the WCS, but it's a worthy fee for my electric intellect."
Ash giggled. "Electric intellect, huh? You kinda remind me of Visquez with that phrase. You've got lightning shaved in your hair, too. Are you guys from the Vermilion Gym too?"
"No! We're just workers, and I'm an especially skilled electrician!"
He wanted to punch the fake smiles off his teammates' faces. Even his own heart was starting to flutter. Ash could beat Electivire easily. But Ash had battled Flint and lost, right? Transitive property. This was a steal. Stop worrying.
Actually, stop being so damn intrigued.
"Whaddaya say, Pikachu? You wanna have a battle to pay Marky for his help?"
A strong "Piiika" answered the question. It was settled.
Something was actually happening today.
Before Volkner took over as the Electric-Type Gym Leader, Flint had done a chaotic job leading a Fire gym for roughly eight months. Chaotic because he couldn't decide on his gimmick and ended up pouring lava on a thousand-dollar leather recliner during the first day of decorating. Then he turned twenty and quit, because he wanted to "travel the world," before losing to Champion Cynthia enough times to get her recommendation for the seat of a retiring Four member. And before Flint, the Sunyshore Gym had been established some sixty years prior as a Dark-Type facility, under Leader Darius, the "North and South Navigator," who always wore a tricorn hat and might have been totally insane.
"Octillery isn't a Dark-Type," Volkner told him at ten years old, after dispatching the tentacled Pokémon with a single Thunderbolt and winning his very own Beacon Badge.
"Aye, Little Ginty. It is not," Darius replied.
The old man basically raised Flint after his dad fell off the lighthouse.
Volkner never thought much about finding a successor. He'd always been strong. Taking over the gym had made him even stronger. And when he was too strong to even care about the job, there was no reason to give it up when someone else would be a downgrade. Best to remain an example and a hero for his city. In one sense, of course. Let his spark shine brightest in battle, let it surge within his soul, and then spend the night staring out at the water, at the broken peninsula shrouded in shadows to the north, and wonder why fate had left him ignorant of greater powers.
Well hi, Visquez. I hear you're making a name for yourself filling in at this gym. Do you want your own?
Visquez, you don't know me, but there's a place called Penthouse Perilla and it has an empty room.
Have you ever been to Sinnoh, Visquez? The beaches are better there.
"I've never even met her," Volkner breathed. "She can't…"
"Something the matter, Marky, my comrade in currents?" James asked, slapping him on the shoulder and shocking him back to reality.
That's right. They were out of the city now. They'd led the "twerps" right to the field where the mech was secretly stashed. Jess-in-Gloves had called it their "jobsite." The only "job" for them to do now was capture Pikachu and call it a day.
"Two pairs of boots and I've got cold feet," he whispered back.
"If it helps, remember you're under an alias. Only we three know who you truly are. Were."
"Yeah, were. Was."
Ash and Goh, who were several feet ahead up at the top of a hill, glanced back a bit confused as the final two finished the trek. Jess-in-Gloves and Masked-Up Meowth were already idling, swinging about the tools they brought along to crudely mimic technicians.
"Do you even want to battle him?" James asked. "We could just skip that part."
"Yes I'm battling him, and you're backing me up," Volkner snapped.
He pushed on ahead, reaching the summit in moments and taking his place at a distance he'd memorized from his challenger. Pleasantries were exchanged, and with such a force that he felt something pop in his left elbow, Volkner threw Electivire's Poké Ball. The Sunyshore Gym Leader's ace came out in a blinding blue light. Pikachu leapt off Ash's shoulder and hit the ground with a growl, static sparking from its cheeks. The other three technicians lined up in the middle to act as refs, synchronizing their movements and spouting off enough electrical idioms to make a real Gym Leader suspicious.
"'Kay, Pikachu! Let's start off with Quick Attack, then jump and use Iron Tail!"
Pikachu darted forward, phasing into a lightning-fast blur until it appeared inches from Electivire's face, swinging its tail in a wicked curve. All moves the foe had seen before.
"Don't let it hit! Counter with your own Iron Tail!"
Twin wires seized and hardened, then whipped with incredible speed that easily smacked Pikachu into the dust.
"Keep using it!"
Soil burst up from the earth, and grass was ripped from its roots when the two tails slapped rapid-fire at the idling enemy. Pikachu squealed when one of them hit, but the next second it had dodged and leapt up again at its trainer's command, landing a successful Iron Tail attack on Electivire's chest. The hulking Pokémon heaved, struck with paralysis and wobbling in place.
"Awesome! Pikachu, your Static ability's working! Electivire can't move! Get in there close with Quick Attack!"
"We've seen Static before. Electivire, Protocol P-179!"
Electivire shuddered, sparking, and in one enormous heave, pitched forward and coughed. A glob of fizzling spittle landed in the grass, and wiping its mouth it narrowed red eyes on the approaching opponent, all paralysis shaken from its system.
"Get Pikachu when it's close! Now, Electivire! Pull down the lightning and use Thunder Punch!"
Both of Electivire's furry fists lit up with electrical fury. Plenty of special training behind this defensive maneuver as well, Volkner remembered with a smirk. At his gesture, his partner alternated, punching Pikachu and then the air it occupied, creating a glowing, buzzing shield of static.
"Gotta break through! Pikachu, use Electro Web!"
Pikachu jumped and somersaulted in mid-air, summoning a net of yellow sparks from its tail. In a graceful dive, it launched the attack.
"Take the hit!"
Electivire thrust out its chest, absorbing the full force of both scattering Electric attacks and grinding its teeth in a rush of newfound power.
"You won't get far with those Electric-Type moves. My Electivire's ability zaps and saps with ease. With that power, Thunder Punch again!"
Both fists accelerated with novel speed. Pikachu was sent flying, swiftly rolling once it hit earth. Its fur was stained with smoking soil, and it gave a weak squeak when lifting itself back to its feet.
"You can do it, Pikachu! Quick Attack one more time!"
Pikachu gave a huff and folded its ears flat against its skull. Then it launched itself with a burst of speed. Like a ball of glittering fur and fangs, it soared toward its target.
"Dodge!"
Electivire was far faster now. Snaking bolts of lightning poured off its back as it sprinted away, leaving Pikachu to careen right into the ground again.
"Pikachu! Nngh! Get up! You can do it! Another Quick Attack!"
"Not even worth it. Electivire, let's close this circuit with Wild Charge!"
His partner roared and exploded with energy, bright tendrils of lightning blasting off in every direction. Pikachu was struck, of course, shuddering in place with the amazing voltage lighting up every part of its body. Electivire stumbled from the recoil, but the smaller Pokémon had slumped into submission and lay limp. Volkner crossed his arm. He came to stand next to his partner and let the smirk from earlier fall from his lips.
Not a real rematch, I guess. He had to learn about Motor Drive all over again. I knew he had Static… but we still surprised ourselves… And now…
His heart lagged, and he pitched forward, coughing the same way Electivire had minutes before.
"Ash, look out!" Goh screeched.
While poring over his expended Pokémon, the boy had failed to notice the giant metal cylinder rumbling toward him on wheels and glinting in the hot August sunlight. Clink-clink! The robotic arm swiveled and swirled down to snatch Pikachu right out of Ash's arms and stuff it down into the insulated compartment.
Both boys gaped. Ash pushed himself up on his knees and instantly tore at the grass.
"What is this!? You just staged a battle to steal Pikachu away!?" Goh growled.
"The battle seemed pretty real to me," Electivire's master replied, petting its shoulder and letting the charge run up his arm to cancel out the strain between his ribs. Here we go. This is real. "But this alias? Not a chance."
In one swift move, he tossed away the jeans and outer boots, letting the breeches and rubber ones spring to life. Unfortunately, the button-up shirt was tougher to undo so quickly. His fingers scrambled to crease the fabric, but he was already behind when his three teammates popped up out of the mech and began to recite the Team Rocket motto:
"Prepare for trouble and electric jolts!" Jessie sang out.
"And make it triple, ten thousand volts!" boomed James.
Both eyed the other human Rocket, now trying desperately to pull the shirt off over his head. His arms got tangled up in the fabric, and now his elbows were caught between buttons and seams. The turtleneck even came untucked and slid up over his stomach. The longer gloves slipped completely out of his breeches where he'd stashed them.
Jessie just looked toward the sky and continued: "To protect the world from devastation!"
"To unite all people within our nation!"
"To ground the hot currents of truth and love!" the new member shouted, red R over the left breast now at least partially visible beneath the rippling plaid.
"Oh my god, Marcell, we talked about this," Jessie groaned.
"To extend our reach to the stars above!" James continued.
"Jessie…"
"James!"
"A shocking new addition! Marcell's the name!" And the shirt finally flew up in the air to reveal an even spikier undercut.
"Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light!"
"Surrender now, or prepare to–"
"Eat light… ning!"
"Meowth, that's right… ning!?"
"Wobbuffet!?"
Goh clenched his fists. "Team Rocket! And you recruited a specialist!? You know, with that kind of strength, you and Electivire shouldn't be helping a bunch of bad guys!"
"But we can get the job done, can't we? We're about to make off with a shocking victory! Haha!"
"Will you just shut up!?" Jessie whined. "We're done with the disguises! James, I told you the moment he asked to join us. He can't control those… impulses!"
"Hush now, darling, Marcell's right. We've nearly succeeded! We've got Pikachu out and insulated!"
"Wobbu-Wobbuffet!"
"You're lucky Wobbuffet ain't got any fingers right now, Marcell."
"Good he doesn't! I can keep my dynamo dignity! Electivire, use Wild Charge and stop those twerps from following us. One Pikachu prize amplifying our day!"
"Scorbunny! Use Ember!"
"Dragonite! Use Hyper Beam!"
In a flash, Goh's partner kicked up a bit of dirt and launched a flaming sphere toward the mech. Ash's Dragonite breathed in and let a blinding ray of light burst forth from its mouth.
And Marcell's Electivire lit up with power, spreading all its limbs wide to protect its master.
Until its chest seized again, and once more, it had to cough.
BOOOOM!
An eruption of goldenrod discharge. A sudden, furious hurricane. A gasp. Skin vibrating with fire and veins running hot with a razor-sharp volley of voltage. A headache. Searing, pounding, scurrying with the snow of orbital shells boiling to life and exploding into joy, pain, pleasure in anything. The smell of roasting rubber, chemical sweetness, heartbeat swaying, information overload, let it go… high enough… flying…
"I'm flying…"
He was flying.
Gravity had left his limbs, still fizzling with faint and dissipating electricity, and the ground was sinking far below as the earth turned spherical. Electivire's coughing, combined with its attack, had set off a blast so powerful it sent them all spiraling up into the stratosphere. His teammates had screamed something — he couldn't hear them over the roar of the wind. And now Jessie was curled up and James was laughing in terror and Meowth and Wobbuffet still looked annoyed, like this was totally normal. It certainly wasn't normal to Volkner. It was new, of course, and the surprise had been excruciatingly, brilliantly fun…
"HAHAHAHA! I'M FLYING, YOU GUYS! SCREW YOU, ELITE FOUR AND SCREW YOU, SUNYSHORE, I'M FLYING!"
Grinning at the freezing warmth pouring over his skin, he crossed his forearms before him and flashed two V Signs at the hot purple sun.
"And now I'm falling."
~N~
Oh, Volky...
Epigraph this time is from "Make a Circuit With Me" by the Polecats, which, if you would believe it, is a beach pop song about electronic components. Volkner's anthem! Or at least something Flint blasts in the mornings to get him out of bed. Actually the most Volkner-ish song on the playlist so far is Bill Wurtz's "i can play," which matches his "what's the point" vibe and uncannily sounds like the Sunyshore theme.
Volkner and Flint now make a cameo appearance in my crack Hetalia fic Prussia Meows~
Published by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net February 25th, 2022. Reviews are triple, Reposters eat light... ning!