Chapter 9

"Uuugh." A yawn escaped my mouth as my eyes squinted open. An itch arose just above my right ear. I moved my hand back to scratch it. However, what brushed against my skin was a white sheet, not a fingernail. The sheet rubbed against straight hair, not a pigtail. My eyes opened wider. I glanced toward my toes. They were the only part of my body not covered by this sheet. By my not-covered feet was a bedpost. I leaned forward. To my right was a grey wall. To my left was Ilk's lab. Below me was a fuzzy brown blanket, and below that was a matress and wooden support. On the ground and beneath that support were my shoes. Fully awake, I tossed the sheet off me. Unlike my feet, my body was draped in the same clothes I wore when…I fell asleep on the floor, right?

My feet tapped the ground, though my thick socks stifled any noise. "Did you sleep well?" Ilk asked me. Apart from his head, his body faced the computer. He stood up and took a sip from his unique looking mug. "You want some tea? Or just some water?" The scent of coffee wafted over to me.

I pushed my shoulder onto my nose. "Blegh." My clothes stank, likely from having slept in them. I lowered my arm. "When did I move into the bed?" I asked Ilk. "Didn't I fall asleep on the floor?"

"Chief Rodriguez and I carried you to the bed after you fell asleep," Ilk answered while he put his rose-adorned mug on the counter. "Sleeping on the ground would've hurt your back." Ilk pointed to an empty shelf. "I grabbed a spare sheet from my disorganized bureau of stuff. Thought it would make your rest a little more comfortable. We would've tucked you in, but we feared waking you up if we moved you too much."

"Wait wait wait!" I held out both my hands and shook my head. Logical thought had returned to my cranium. "It doesn't matter why I'm on the bed! When did I fall asleep? I have a rescue mission to start up!"

"One question at a time." Ilk grabbed my, or rather his, phone from his coat pocket. He must have retrieved it from my bag after carrying me onto the bed. "It's 10:00 am, and I think you fell asleep at around 9 or 10 last night. Don't quote me."

"10 o'clock? No!" I pushed the sheet off me and jumped out of bed. "Where did you and Mr. Rodriguez sleep? Wait, did Mr. Rodriguez leave? He must have left last night! How am I going to train for this journey now?" I slapped my had. "Stupid, stupid! Why didn't you wake up sooner? Why did you even fall asleep? Stop making your life and the lives of everyone around you harder for no reason, you stupid brat!"

Ilk pointed at his coffee mug. "All-nighters are nothing new for scientists. Besides, after all the stress you went through, you needed a good night's sleep more than me. As for Chief Rodri-" A loud flush interrupted Ilk's explanation. "He's in there," Ilk continued, gesturing towards the sound of running sink water.

"You need me for something?" Mr. Rodriguez called from the bathroom. "I'll be right out." After a few seconds, he opened the door. I saw him grab his coat from the door hanger and put it on over his white dress shirt. "You have to buy regular brand brew, Professor. All bargains have a hidden cost." He shut the door. Once he turned around, his eyes registered me. "Oh, good morning, Brenda. You sleep well?"

"Did you?" I asked. "You spent half a day here without sleeping. Don't you have work?"

Rodriguez laughed while brushing his palms together. "You think a police chief active on the field has time for sleep?" he asked as he walked to Ilk's desk. "This body runs on pure artificial adrenaline." He opened his briefcase, which was sitting on the table just left of Ilk's computer, and pulled out a pokeball. "Besides," he said while clicking the center button, "I keep my promises. Let's start your training."

A red light shone from the pokeball to the ground. From the flash came the armored lizard Lairon. "Raaaaawn," he roared.

Mr. Rodriguez walked over to me. He lifted one of my arms and placed the pokeball on my palm. "Throw this at Lairon's head, and get the central button to hit him. You'll be making your own team from pokemon in the wild, so you'll need to practice your capturing technique." He pointed at Lairon. "Lairon, stay still. This is just practice."

I looked at my palm. Right, pokeballs are a common thing in Naljo, I reminded myself. Yet this fact didn't answer my central question. "Why do this practice?" I asked. "Do I really need to capture pokemon?"

Mr. Rodriguez nodded. "You need a strong balance." He pointed at my bag resting on another one of the bureau's shelves, just above the slow printer. "Your only pokemon is that Larvitar. While he's certainly a capable fighter, strong trainers utilize up multiple pokemon that balance out each other's strengths and weaknesses. A team full of water and grass pokemon would wipe the floor with him. I'd recommend making a team of six, balancing which types fit your battling style. Make sure you limit yourself to six pokemon. You won't be able to focus on each fighter's individual strength if you're carrying too many at a time, especially considering the ticking clock regarding the Pallet Patrollers' plans."

I nodded back. "That's neat, but not exactly what I meant," I replied. "Why find pokemon at all? Can't you just loan me some strong pokemon from the police? Your Fearow was loaned to you, so couldn't I do the same?"

"I wouldn't recommend that, for your own sake," Mr. Rodriguez replied. "You're currently a novice trainer. Having to struggle and gain strength yourself will familiarize you with the nuances of battling. Depending on strong fighters won't foster that independence, especially if your opponent's team is stronger and better coordinated."

"I see." I frowned while looking at the pokeball. Strong pokemon let novices like you make up for their own shortcomings, Crimson had told me.

"Besides, pokemon strength is relative," Mr. Rodriguez continued. "Sure, higher levels mean greater attributes and stronger attacks, but any trainer can gain levels. The patrollers have specific pokemon with abilities best suiting them, and we don't know those specifics. Handing you a couple of strong pokemon may have no effect if they have strategies against these types of pokemon, assuming a list of the pokemon in the police arsenal isn't among their future demands. If you build your own team that suits you alone, you'll know the ins and outs of your own strategy, and be able to adapt properly to the patrollers' strategies. A dull dagger you've crafted with your own hands will do more damage than a sharp sword you're swinging around all willy-nilly." He held up his hands. "Not that I want you to compare your pokemon to weapons."

"This coming from the steel meister," Ilk remarked while typing something on his computer. The two chuckled from this inside joke. A wire connected from the desktop to something in his leg area, which wasn't connected to the computer yesterday.

I ruffled my right hand through my bed hair. "Can I process all that for a second?" The pain in my hands and arms was gone, even though the bandages were still there. Were the cuts surface-deep? I shrugged. Enjoy the arms that move properly without pain, Brenda. I inspected the pokeball in my left hand while spinning my right arm in a circle. "I think I got it," I said.

"Any other questions?" Mr. Rodriguez asked. "Or are you ready for capture practice?"

Ah. I clutched my stomach. "Actually, I'd like to use the restroom first. You didn't give the place grown-up stink, did you?"

Mr. Rodriguez made a guilty smile. "That's up to perspective."

I sighed while Mr. Rodriguez took the pokeball from my hand. "I hate being a freeloader." On my walk to the bathroom, I pulled my logo top over my nose and mouth. Mr. Rodriguez, in the meantime, whispered something to Ilk.

A couple minutes later, I exited the bathroom with wet hands. "Don't you have paper towels? Or Potpourri?"

"Hand towel's to your left and spray deodorant's at the Poke Mart," Ilk replied without turning to me.

"It's not d-egh." I looked at the bathroom's left wall and identified a small green towel, nearly matching the wall's lighter green tint. I dried my hands with it. "Want me to go there and buy you some, Ilk?" I asked while taking back Mr. Rodriguez's pokeball. "It's the least I can do, as thanks for the bed."

Ilk turned the chair to face me. The flat red pokedex rested on his lap and the new wire connected it to his desktop. "I'm fine," he replied. "Like I said, I don't usually entertain guests. People usually don't notice their own smell, anyway."

"What's that supposed to-" A sweat-ridden odor caught my attention. I glanced down at my disheveled clothes. I turned my left side to Lairon and extended my right arm backwards. "Men should be nicer to young ladies!" I shouted, emphasizing the last word alongside pitching the pokeball at the protruding metal on Lairon's forehead. I stomped with my right foot to stop my forward momentum. During the pokeball's descent, gravity seemed to center on the bottom half. Is the white part of a pokeball heavier than the red, I wondered.

"Lrr." Lairon made a disgruntled noise as its form transformed into red light. The pokeball fell onto the ground.

"Yeah!" I slammed one fist into my palm. "On to the next phase of training?"

"Incredible throwing skills." Mr. Rodriguez clapped twice. He blinked three times. "You sure you've never handled pokeballs before?"

"Never had to. I'm pitcher of my school's baseball team." I flexed my skinny arm. "No, I didn't mean softball. Underhand pitching's for girls. That's why I get to play on the boys' team." I walked over to the pokeball and picked it up. "Hitting a still target's easy if it's that close to me." I gripped the pokeball in both hands and stared at it. "You'll give my school a good reason for my…extended absence. Right, Mr. Rodriguez? When this is over, I want proof that my old life's still waiting for me." I brought the pokeball to my chest and hugged.

Mr. Rodriguez put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about anything except the arduous task you've chosen to undertake. The time it takes won't matter. My wife can home-school you at an accelerated pace."

"Awesome!" I plastered a grin on my somber face, then jumped up. "This epic story's going to make me so popular!" I step away from his grip. Don't look down on me, I internally told him. Tell me I'll win this. Lie or not, tell me you believe in my success.

"You're going to do great, hero," he replied without me prompting.His arm extended to me. I almost backed up until I saw the empty palm. "Mind handing me Ronny?" I placed Lairon's pokeball on his hand. "Just know that pokemon won't stand still outside," he reminded me. "Ah. Before I go on, want to grab something to write with?" I nodded.

"Paper's in the printer," Ilk replied. "Pens and pencils are next to the printer, behind the stapler. Grab any of the books in any other shelf to use as a makeshift clipboard. I'll put it away later."

"Can I just use the pokedex?" I asked. "It had a stylus and a canvas for writing, right?"

"I'm currently doing modifications," he answered.

Ten seconds later, I was sitting in front of Mr. Rodriguez, paper in hand and readiness in brain. Lairon's pokeball was resting by my feet.

"Heh." Mr. Rodriguez scratched the side of his head. "Does my wife really do this every day? Well, here goes something. In tall grass and other places where pokemon roam, they're…well, roaming. As in, not standing still. You need to close the distance if you want a decent chance of capturing them. However, wild animals make take extreme measures to keep their distance from you. Make sure that your pokemon weakens them first. They'll move a lot slower if they have less HP or are suffering from a status ailment like a burn, making them easier for you to capture. That said, don't go so crazy with lowering the pokemon's HP that it faints. The mechanisms in pokeballs require conscious thought from the target. The pokemon must recognize you as its new master. Otherwise, the pokeball will not become its new home."

"That's…uh…" I struggled to write everything down. A lot of what he said seemed to go over my head.

Mr. Rodriguez shook his head. "Forget what I said. Put simply, lower a pokemon's HP to increase your chance of capturing it. If it faints, you can't capture it."

"I followed that." I scribbled down his two simple sentences. "Why can't I capture a pokemon if it fainted? You returned a fainted pokemon to your pokeball when chasing Red."

"It's different for pokemon you've already captured," Rodriguez explained. "They've already recognized you as their master, so their new home is absolute. As for why the pokeballs were designed to require pokemon recognition, you'd have to ask the manufacturer. I'm just a customer."

I scribbled the rest down. "Okay, I think I got it."

"Give me the paper when you're done writing down trainer tips," Ilk told me. "I'll transcribe it after installing updates."

"Consider it done." I placed the papers on Ilk's desk, then returned to where Mr. Rodriguez was standing.

"Mind if I check something?" I grabbed the pokeball at Mr. Rodriguez's feet. "Just want to check what level I should get to." I flipped the pokeball over. My eyes darted to Lairon's description. "Level thirty? That's pretty high. Whoa!" My pinky accidentally touched the central button.

The pokeball jostled as light escaped it. This light eventually formed Lairon. "Lair!" he growled. I jumped backwards. In reaction, he…fell onto his left side. He wagged all four of his stubby feet.

"Ronny's asking you for a stomach rub," Mr. Rodriguez informed me. "Must've been impressed with your throw. He doesn't warm up quickly towards new people. Not saying you have to pet him."

"Huh." I shrugged, got on my knees, and rubbed the underside of a lizard coated in metal armor. I never thought I'd get this close to such a fierce pokemon, let alone pet it. Despite the metal surrounding his back, head and leg joints, I could feel warmth and a heartbeat beneath his underbelly.

"Good going, tiny human. Now scratch my upper right foot." On cue, Ronny's upper right foot wiggled. Without thinking, I followed the direction of this unknown voice and scratched the designated foot. "Ah. That hits the spot. I tell Arthur to scratch here for years, and this girl with good throwing skills figures it out first? Makes about as much sense as this sudden tingling in my ear."

Tingling? Isn't that what Sir Tyrant…oh. I remove my hand, cutting off Lairon's thoughts. "Mr. Rodriguez, Lai-er, Ronny says you never scratch his foot. Any reason?"

"That's what he wanted?" Mr. Rodriguez asked. "I thought it was just an instinctive reaction to...what do you mean, says?"

"It's what he told me." Ronny lifted his head. I momentarily forgot the 'no mind-reading' promise I made with Sir Tyrant and scratched the lizard's chin. "I guess it wasn't talking," I continued. "Um, how do I put this?"

"It's mind reading," Ilk replied. He stood up and leaned towards his feet. "Brenda recently learned that she can hear the thoughts of pokemon by touching them." He looked up while leaning towards his toes. "Sorry, Brenda. Should've asked you before telling the chief. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, but…" I stared at my palm. "I thought it was only Sir Tyrant. I touched a wild pidgey after fighting it, but I didn't hear anything of its thoughts."

Ilk stood up. "If you had just fought this Pidgey, it was likely unconscious. A fainted pokemon can't achieve conscious thoughts."

"Right. Eheh." I scratched the back of my neck alongside a nervous laugh. Duh.

"What an unusual gift," Mr. Rodriguez remarked. "Is it pokemon-exclusive, or can you use it on people?"

I shook my head. "You'd feel if I used it on you." My finger pushed on my ear. "Both Sir Tyrant and Ronny complained about a tingling in their ear. Guess it's a side effect of my power."

"Ronnn!" Ronny slapped his tail on the ground. The momentum propelled him onto his feet. He shook his head a few times.

"Did I say something?" I grasped the metal cover on his head.

"Good, you hear me now. I wasn't complaining! I was just pointing out the ear tingling! It doesn't hurt, okay? Don't make me look weak in front of Arthur!"

"Wow." I removed my hand and stood up. "Ronny says the ear thing doesn't hurt." I hadn't noticed before, but Ronny's mental voice was a higher pitch than his out-loud growl.

Mr. Rodriguez laughed. "Don't worry, Ronny. You're the toughest pokemon in all of Naljo." Ronny jumped a few times and smiled. "That aside, Brenda?"

"What is it?"

"This power could be very useful in your journey. You secure any of the Pallet Patrollers' pokemon, you could probably glean some useful info about where they're keeping your mother. I know a police officer shouldn't recommend stealing, but I can turn the other way on criminals who take hostages. Which reminds me…" He pointed at the computer. "The patroller in yellow described your mother as the champion's ex-wife. Would that make your father…of course. Brenda Viridian, Lance Viridian." He grinned while rubbing his fingers on his bald dome.

I nodded. "Yeah. He's an awesome dad, even if he's rarely home. Still puts him miles ahead of all the other guys Mom wants me to call 'dad'." I used air quotes for the last word.

"Oh. I…see." Mr. Rodriguez stared past me at the printer. After five seconds of pointless awkwardness, he got on one knee and patted both my shoulders. "Ilk and I are here for you. Once your mother is in our hands, I promise that we'll keep you safe."

"Don't make that sort of promise." I pushed his arms off me. "We've been over this. I can handle myself. Just get to whatever Dad has to do with all this."

"All right, all right." Mr. Rodriguez breathed in and out. His exhaling face exuded serenity. "As you might know, or don't, Lance has also displayed the ability to read the minds of Pokemon with just a touch. I thought it was just a publicity stunt until just now, when you showed me otherwise. He's also showcased the ability to heal pokemon through contact alone. Can you do that as well?"

"I…um…" My eyes attempted to examine my ears one by one. "I don't…think…so." A welling feeling rose within me. This sort of power…sounds amazing! I'd be invincible in any battle! This power would help on a spy mission for sure! Probably.

"Let me borrow Ronny." Without waiting for my answer, he grabbed his pokeball from my hand and gazed at its white underbelly. "He's down 1 Health Point," Mr. Rodriguez explained. "Likely from you throwing the pokeball at him with considerable force."

"Eh?" I held my elbows at my sides and directed my palms at the ceiling. "I just did what you told me to," I protested.

"I'm not blaming you," Mr. Rodriguez replied. "Your throw was spectacular. Few trainers can damage a pokemon with only brute strength. I could see you going pro in a couple years, champ."

"Thanks." A smile crept onto my blushed face.

"On a more serious note," he continued, "Iron Tail is down one Power Point."

"Power Point describes the number of times a pokemon can use a move, right?" I asked. Ilk's shredded guide once had that tidbit in its pages. Please tell me I'm capable of basic retention, I pretended to tell him.

"Exactly." Mr. Rodriguez nodded. "For convenience, we'll call the former HP and the latter PP for the rest of this discussion. Anyway, you directly touched Ronny after he used Iron Tail, but his HP and PP weren't restored. If you weren't aware of such a power until now, it's likely you can't use it unconsciously or consciously. Sorry for getting your hopes up."

I shrugged. "Whatever. Such a power sounds too good to be true, anyway. It's probably another one of Dad's stories. Anything else about his TV exploits that'll make this journey a success?" Let's change the subject, I thought. It was stupid to hope that something sounding that good was legitimate. I kept up my smile.

"Sort of." Mr. Rodriguez opened his suitcase and put Ronny's pokeball inside. "During your rest, I've come up with your itinerary for this journey. You'll need a fake reason to tell anyone else who asks what you're up. Especially the Patrollers."

I put my index finger to my lip. "That sounds pretty cool. What's my fake mission?"

"The pokemon league challenge." Ilk pulled out a packet of papers, the cover of which had the words 'Naljo League Rules' surrounded by a glaring pink background. He handed me the packet. "The challenge works as follows," he began. "You will engage a series of professional trainers, known as gym leaders, where your pokemon shall compete with theirs. After you defeat them in formal matches, you get the right to sequentially fight an elite group of four trainers, known as the Elite Four for obvious reasons, led by the current champion. As in, your father."

"Who are gym leaders?" I asked "Ilk mentioned them once, but didn't explain. Are they not fitness professionals?"

"They're not." Mr. Rdriguez looked at the ceiling and smiled. "Well, they might be, but that's irrelevant to their role. Gym leaders are leaders of various cities. They tout, or carry, a set of pokemon with a type specialization. They're best known for their role as a challenging obstacle between a trainer and champion status."

"That sounds neat." I clasped my palms behind my head and leaned backwards. "But this is the fake journey?"

"Indeed." He pointed at the printer. "Grab some paper. It's extremely important that you commit this next part to memory."

"Done!" Ilk dramatically clicked the 'enter' key. He then used his mouse to drag an orange square with a white rectangle on top into the trash can icon. I handed Mr. Rodriguez the 'Naljo League Rules' packet and walked over to Ilk. After pulling the plug from the desktop, he handed me the pokedex with the cord still hanging out of its outlet. "I'll go look for an adaptor," he told me. "Then you'll be able to charge the power at any outlet in a pokemon center. For now, click the notebook-looking icon. That'll let you write down what Chief Rodriguez is saying."

"Thanks." I flipped open the pokedex and saw an intricate menu of apps. I clicked the notebook-looking app as Ilk requested. The loaded screen was a blank canvas. I took the red stylus and drew a circle. Once my stylus left the screen, the text color changed from black to purple. "Heh." I added more details. A freckly face in purple reflected my smile.

"You ready?" Mr. Rudriguez asked.

"Sure thing." I looked up, still a little amused. "Sorry for getting carried away."

"Whatever keeps your mind calm," he reassured me. I sat down, fake pen in hand, and waited for him to continue. "While the pokemon league challenge obviously isn't your true purpose for this journey, you will challenge the gym leader in every city you visit. While in the city, make sure to also do an investigation for evidence of Patroller activity and take thorough notes. Be casual with your investigation. An obsessive one will tip off observers, which will tip off the Patrollers."

"Should I send you the note when I'm done?" I asked.

"No," Mr. Rodriguez replied. "If you're caught and they discover repeated messages to the police chief, there's no telling what they'll do to you and your mother. Contact me only when absolutely necessary." He intertwined all ten fingers. "If that's too unsettling, please don't embark on this journey. I'm still happy to let you stay at my home."

"K-keep going." I pointed my stylus at the pokedex while biting my lip. "You've got more instructions, right? Do more talking."

"Of course." He unclenched his hands and clapped once. "I am about to share with you three key instructions. Remember them above anything else in this discussion. Rescuing your mother hinges on their success. Let me know when you're ready."

"Understood," I replied.

He held up an index finger. "First. Challenge as many trainers as you can. Any fight between two pokemon league challengers must have a cash bet. Continual fights will give your pokemon the experience needed to get stronger, and you'll learn more about battle tactics that best fit your personal style of battle. Plus, you can spend the winnings on items that'll supplement your journey, like items for recovering HP and curing ailments like burns. These will be useful when you're going up against multiple opponents. Got all that? The second instruction has a complicated rationale."

"Just about." I scribbled down the 'HP-recovering item point. "Okay, got it. What's the second tip?"

Mr. Rodriguez lifted his middle finger. "Second, collect gym badges from gym leaders. There's four reasons for this. One, captured pokemon hold higher respect for trainers with the ingenuity to earn multiple badges. This will be useful when training stronger and more willful companions. Two, trainer with badges have special privilidges in regards to public obstruction. Their pokemon may surf across public waters or destroy specified structures that impede their progress, to name just a few."

"Impede means to get in the way of, right?" I interrupted.

"It does." Much of the merriment initially on Mr. Rodriguez's face had completely faded. "Make sure you write down every word of reason three. I'll speak as slow and deliberate as I need to."

I nodded. "I'm ready." No more hesitating. Trust in your memory.

"Reason three." Mr. Rodriguez held up three fingers. "Earning gym badges gives you a very natural opportunity to talk with the gym leaders. Despite what most kids your age assume, facing challengers is not a gym leader's primary role. They serve as governors of their respective cities and decree city-wide laws. After challenging and defeating them, bring up the Pallet Patrollers and the danger they pose. However, bring the danger up as casually as possible. Their role as specialist trainers will give you an excuse for approaching them outside of your real mission. I suggest, as a precaution, to only bring up your suspicion, not hard facts. This will prompt the gym leaders to discover the truth themselves. If they get involved, that has nothing to do with the police." Rodriguez caught his breath. "Shall I repeat any of that?"

"No, I got it." I showed him the notes I took. "Thanks for putting so much thought into this plan. I feel like I'll save Mom for sure."

"Glad you're feeling confident." Rodriguez held up four fingers. "Reason four. Defeating the Elite Four, the four trainers below your father, will let you meet him. The champion's strong enough to stop whatever dangerous plans the Patrollers are concocting. Plus, his role as Champion, like that of a president, gives him executive power over the Gym Leaders. His decrees are law should he get a majority of people to support him."

"Do I need to meet Dad?" I asked. "Don't you have a way to contact him yourself? Besides, if he's a president, it's his role to find and solve these problems himself. Once Mom's free, of course."

"I thought I did." Mr. Rodriguez pulled his phone out of his pocket. "But calling someone with that kind of power isn't possible on a whim. Even as the Chief of Police, I can't interrupt him from his work unless I declare an emergency. We can't risk the champion, someone obviously connected to the police, acting before your mother's secured. Plus, if the Patrollers sent me this flashdrive through the mail, they've likely tapped the phone lines."

"I see." I morbidly wrote down what he said. "So, this is more a precaution? In case I can't stop the Patrollers from doing their evil plans or something?"

"You don't need to stop anyone," Mr. Rodriguez told me. "You just worry about saving your mother. We'll protect people when taking action doesn't endanger the populace. Now, before your last task, I-"

"What is it?" I asked, hand rigid above the pokedex.

"Here." He handed me Ilk's cell phone. "Look at Ilk's address book. I inputted my number there."

When did he get my phone? I flipped open Ilk's phone. In the address book, I noted three contacts: Darren Brother, Ilk Home, and Mister Rodger. Ilk really does only use this phone in emergencies. The only one with a proper last name has an improper first…"Are you Mister Rodger?" I asked.

"It's a fake name, obviously." He gestured to his phone. "I know I said to keep contact to a minimum, but I'll feel reassured if you have a way to contact me and never use it. Much better than vice versa."

"So, what's the task?" I asked. "Call you at specific intervals? No, you said you didn't want me to do that."

"Sorry. This wasn't the task." He pointed at my pokedex. "We're not asking you to go on a wild goose chase. Ilk downloaded the key locations from the Patrollers's flashdrive onto your pokedex. Check out its' map icon."

I closed out the notebook and tapped on a scroll with blue water and green mountains adorning it. What then filled the screen was, as Mr. Rodriguez said, a map detailing all the towns and cities in Naljo in pixelated format, with a white bar at the top. Locations were odd little squares connected by simplistic lines. When I clicked the square at the top middle area of the map, the white border atop the map read 'Laurel City', and the bottom right corner featured an icon surrounded by lots of water called 'Saxifrage Island'. The pathway surrounded by water left of Saxifrage was apparently 'Route 79'. An 8-bit icon of a little girl did jumping jacks over a square in the bottom left corner. I clicked on her, and the text on the above screen read 'Caper City'.

I glanced behind me to see Ilk and Mr. Rodriguez staring at the screen too. "Is this girl icon supposed to be me?" I asked.

"Yep." Ilk nodded. "Having the map work as a GPS will help you gather your bearings."

"Does this GPS get more specific?" I asked. I pointed to a black circle in the upper right corner, separate from the map. "Like, does this black circle let me zoom in?"

"If you touch the black circle, the pokedex will point out the cities of interest to the Patrollers," Ilk replied. I touched the circle, and it transformed into a white square. A couple cities were, as a result, engulfed in a light black circle. I touched each one to get their names. Though, without knowledge of these cities in the first place, Patrollers activities might as well have happened anywhere. I clicked the white square, and it transformed back into a black circle. The circular outlines on the map had vanished as well.

"Neat." I glanced towards Ilk. "Mind if I ask one more question about the pokedex?" Ilk met my gaze. "Is there a zoom function?" I asked. "Can I identify that I'm in your lab, not just inside Caper City? Something specific may help."

"Nope." Ilk pointed to his computer. "The map's based on a template I already designed. In less than half a day, I can't make a whole new one large or adjustable enough to do the equivalent of an iPhone's GPS. Especially since I spent a lot of time making more adjustments to the pokedex."

"Professor Ilk's a genius, but not one for updating his hardware," Mr. Rodriguez remarked.

"Software updates are just as effective, and I like having money," Ilk snapped back. "Besides, I'd rather sacrifice visual quality for processing speed. The pokedex has 20 gigabytes of storage, and I want to put them to good use."

"Is that a lot?" I asked.

"For a small handheld computer, it's criminal," Mr. Rodriguez replied.

"What's more important is the content," Ilk added. "Too many programs and the device will run slower than a literal Slowpoke. Fortunately, the programs already installed and the content on this flashdrive barely make up a quarter of the storage space. You'll never have to worry about the pokedex not running properly, as long as you keep it charged. But it'll hold a battery for three days of constant use. You'll be fine as long as you sit in a pokemon center for around ten minutes."

"Got it, got it." I ruffled up my hair. "This is just a lot to take in all at once."

Ilk walked over to me. "Even less reason to worry. Go back to the pokedex's main menu." As per Ilk's instruction, I closed out the map. "Click on the paper clip with eyes around the middle area of those apps," he commanded. After a double click with my stylus, a large document showed up. The title page read 'How to use the Pokedex'.

"Click on that bar." Ilk pointed to the bottom right corner. I noted a 'search' icon next to a blank bar. When I tapped it, the bar enlarged to become 50% of the screen. The 30% below it was a traditional style keyboard. "Got a topic you're confused about regarding the pokdex, use this. It'll streamline the process." I typed 'charge', and after waiting a few seconds, document text appeared above the search bar, with two instances of 'charge' highlighted in yellow. I clicked an 'X' at the top right corner of the screen, and the document returned to its initial form, the 'charge' instances still highlighted.

I glanced down at the page count, which read 'page 17 of 362'. "Did you write all this in less than half a day?" I asked.

Ilk shook his head. "Not exactly. I've had the guide for a while. I just simplified some parts to avoid language kids wouldn't learn until they got into high school."

"Oh." I scrolled through the large document. My brain couldn't process how Ilk customized this guide for me in barely half a day. The time he spent writing this whole guide felt even more alien.

Ilk pushed the power button on the upper right corner of the pokedex. The screen went blank. "You can read it later. Learning through experience will do more for you than a long cramming session you don't have time for. Besides, I do work for the police, even if I'm not directly employed. Keep communication with me to a minimum as well. Just know that I would sincerely prefer the opposite."

"Brenda's safety is worth more than your peace of mind," Mr. Rodriguez remarked. He held my backpack in his arms. Both straps were still torn. I rushed away from him and towards the bed. Beneath or around the bed, nothing of mine was in the area save my shoes. Mr. Rodriguez must have packed it up while I was asleep, I surmised while tying my shoes.

"This everything?" I asked Mr. Rodriguez while grabbing my backpack. I felt Sir Tyrant's pokeball and my wallet inside it, along with the couple of health items I didn't use against Crimson.

"Two more things," he replied as he reached into his suit pocket. He handed me a small card and a slip of paper. The card appeared to be a white business card for 'Beauty Constructors'. Contact information for a Suzanne Vallen made up the left side, while the right side was adorned with a yellow smiley face with yellow rose petals. The slip of paper appeared to be a letter addressed to this 'Suzanne' person, and signed by Mr. Rodriguez.

"This card is for a makeover artist's shop," Mr. Rodriguez explained. "Their main office is in Oxalis City, but they have one of their small branches here. You're going to go there and get yourself a complete makeover."

I raised an eyebrow. "I know I smell, but do I need more than a shower and a change of clothes?"

"You do. Please take out your wallet." I zipped open my backpack and pulled it out. Mr. Rodriguez pulled out his own wallet and handed me around a thousand pokedollars. I fit them snugly alongside the other bills. "Red may have only seen you briefly," Mr. Rodriguez continued, "but he's convinced that you're dead. Changing your appearance will avoid one possibility of triggering his memories." I put my wallet into my backpack and zipped it up.

"Makes sense." I rested my finger on my cheek. "Are we certain he won't recognize me?"

"None of this is certain," Mr. Rodriguez replied. "It's just our best efforts. But you shouldn't concern yourself with being uncovered. The Patrollers have never met you. They'll have no reason not to take your new name and appearance at face value."

"My name and appearance?" I exclaimed, dropping my bag on the ground. "I thought we were just changing how I look! Why change my name too?"

Mr. Rodriguez took a deep breath. "Once you leave the laboratory, you're going to come up with a fake name for yourself, one that you'll expect everyone you meet to call you for this entire journey." He grasped my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. "No one apart from the three of us can know that you're Brenda Viridian. We can't risk leaving behind any evidence that'll draw the Patrollers to you." He glanced to the left. "Ah, but don't worry about the people you've already talked to. That's why you're changing your appearance. Besides, considering the population nowadays, repeat names are not uncommon."

"Oh." I hadn't told anyone apart from Ilk and Mr. Rodriguez my last name. Yet, despite this stroke of good fortune, I gripped Mr. Rodriguez's arm with both of mine. The thought of discarding my unique identifier terrified me. "I'll get my real name back after I've rescued Mom. Right?"

He patted my head with his free arm. "Of course."

After a few seconds of solace, I bent down and grabbed my bag. "I think I have some cards with my name on it. You should take them, right?"

"Consider it already done."

"What?" Rather than take his word, I pulled out my wallet. My library card, joke ID made in class using markers and scissors, and even the BV sticker on the outside were all gone. In place of the two missing cards were two laminated cards, both of which were perfectly clear. "When and how?" I asked.

"When you were asleep, and the toilet." He pointed at his suitcase. "Ronny did a good job of shredding them before the royal flush."

I tilted my head to the side. "What? Does Ilk own a special toilet? Or is this another inside joke?"

Mr. Rodriguez shook his head. "It's gambling slang. Royal flush means five specific cards of the same suit."

"Right." I'd already tuned out. My index finger scratched the area of my wallet where my 10th birthday sticker once was. I put the featureless container of money back into my bag. "What's with the blank cards?"

"Suzanne is going to replace your cards. One will indicate your trainer status. The other's a debit card."

I clutched my head. "Wait, what? I thought she was the beauty person! Why are we now talking about debit cards?"

"Suzanne's office provides a lot of services, not just makeovers," Ilk replied.

"I was getting to that, Professor." Mr. Rodriguez glanced at Ilk briefly with a slight scowl. His returning face featured a smile. "Anyway, the trainer card allows unattended children under 13 to travel past any city checkpoints. It's how they differentiate challengers from lost children. Some checkpoint stations, like the one you passed to visit Professor Ilk's brother, aren't as strict when it comes to rules like these. They're rare." He pointed at the piece of paper in my hand. "Normally, you need an official ID or parent's permission to apply for a trainer card, but that note contains the chief of police's approval. It'll work as your makeshift ID. Once they see my name on it, they'll let you change the name on your trainer card to whatever you want."

That must be why Crimson barreled through that guard, I realized. However, that left me with another question."Should we worry about Suzanne knowing my real name?" I asked. "That paper must have my name on it, if it's a substitute for my ID. So, she'll know, won't she?"

"Do you see your name on the page?" Mr. Rodriguez asked. I skimmed the document. 'Brenda Viridian' wasn't anywhere. One other name stood out.

"Who's Stephanie Yemens?" I asked.

"She's the daughter of my subordinate, Stan Yemens," Rodriguez began while his bent arm directed his palm at the ceiling. "His daughter is interested in joining the police force. To help her accumulate to high-stress situations, she's taking the pokemon league challenge." He pointed at the paper, never dropping his smirk. "You can read the rest of the letter, but that's the synopsis. Don't worry, Suzanne's never met your father and he doesn't exist."

I gripped both sides of the paper, while my right hand grasped the business card too, and stared at the story. "I-is this alright?" I asked without looking at the target. "I-I know I said I'd do whatever, but this is a big time lie. People go to jail because they use fake IDs for bad reasons." I stared up at Mr. Rodriguez. "Am I doing a serious crime? Crimes hurt people. I don't want to hurt anyone who isn't a bad guy."

"Get used to lying, Stephanie," Mr. Rodriguez told me. "Once you leave the laboratory, you must adapt to your new identity. If your enemies learn your real name, the consequences…" He didn't finish his thought.

"Ahah." My mouth unconsciously formed a fake smile. I fell to my knees, dropping the two items. Must be nice to be a pokemon, I thought as I stared at the pokemon battle depicted on the ceiling. Literally all you need to say is your name. I'd do nothing but broadcast it. My smile faded.

Something hit the floor. I looked down to see that Mr. Rodriguez had taken a knee, and clasped his hands together. "You're doing the right thing," he said in a hoarse voice. "By choosing a false name for yourself, you'll save your mother's life, along with however many other lives the Patrollers intend to put in danger." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Have confidence in yourself. That's one thing the enemy can't steal." He nodded. "But you can steal theirs by getting your mother back. We'll give those villains what they deserve."

"Mr. Rodriguez…" I stared at him blankly. No, bad Brenda! No pity! I blinked twice. "Thank you, sir, but…" I pushed his hand away. I used my other hand to push myself up. "I don't need your support. I'm carrying myself and Sir Tyrant." I punched my palm. "These arms are strong enough to do that, at least."

Mr. Rodriguez sniffed. "I'm so proud of you." He bent down to pick up the letter and card. I picked them up first.

I put the two items into my bag and began walking out, bag cradled in my arms. I looked back and saw Ilk and Mr. Rodriguez waving to me. I waved back. "See you guys…later. Hm." I looked down.

"Knock 'em dead, kiddo," Ilk remarked.

"Break their legs," Mr. Rodriguez added.

I looked back up. "One last thing, if that's alright?" Both men stopped waving. "Mr. Rodriguez, you said I'm picking a false name myself. But didn't you already give me that name? Stephanie?"

"Trainers get to pick the name that appears on their trainer's card," Ilk explained. "It's basically a stage name. That Florence kid calling himself Crimson is kind of like that, though he probably doesn't have a trainer card."

"What should I pick?" I asked.

"Whatever it is, don't tell us," Mr. Rodriguez ordered. "The Patrollers might make more demands of the police, like limiting your movements. If we don't know your name, then we can't legally tell a random civilian to limit their movements for no reason."

"Right." I glanced at him, then at my bag. "Leaving for real now!" I dashed through the hall and out the door. I glanced nowhere but ahead.

After closing the door, I began my trudge through the snow. What should my fake name be, I asked myself. This is what everyone I meet will call me. Will choosing a cool name backfire if people say over and over? I clenched my fist beneath my backpack. No, the name should reflect my morale. I'll pick a strong name. Like one of the great trainers. The famous ones were typically named after colors or jewelry. So, what fits me? More importantly, what do I want on this journey? I want to stay positive. Shine brightly and what have you. I want to cut through all my obstacles. And I want to reflect everything that comes at me. Reflect…jewelry…bright…

I stood in front of the 'Beauty Constructors' place specified on the business card.With one hand on the door handle, I grinned. "Let's get started…Prism."