Note from the Editor:

Hey, everyone. This isn't Delongbi speaking...this is her editor. Due to a series of unfortunate events (aka the new Pokemon game eating her time...) Delongbi has become woefully behind in updates. I feel that this has been unfair to YOU, the READERS. Thus, I have begged her to be allowed to release this NEW, NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN chapter, even though she doesn't currently have access to a computer and can't do it herself. On that same note, Delongbi is currently travelling and therefore won't be updating for a few weeks, but I assure you that she IS planning and writing and she'll have a chapter or two ready when she gets back. She'd better. I may use force if she doesn't :)

So enjoy! This is one of my favorite chapters.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to Quagsire. You know who you are.

Chapter 29: The Search is On

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Results 21-30 of about 154,000.

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The familiar picture appeared on the screen. A collapsing Pokemon Center. Blue flames. A teenage girl crying. The caption read, Cherrygrove City fire kills three. Emily Johnson mourns the loss of her brother, Matthew Johnson. That was a slight change. Every other website had commented on the unusual circumstances of the fire, not the people involved. Legendary Fire? was a popular article title, as was Cherrygrove Police Failure.

I was not even certain of what to look for. The blue fires of Cherrygrove City and Vintage Village were my only leads as to how my father had known. Interestingly, the fires occurred within a hundred years of each other. Was this the information my father had?

It would imply that multiple Mews existed or the 5,000-year legend was, in fact, just a legend.

I scrolled down the page. There was another picture of the teenage girl. She was crying in the arms of a police officer while another officer carried a crate of rescued—but somewhat charred—objects. A doll in the crate caught my eye.

I closed the web page.

The doll had possessed a zipper mouth.

Banette. A Pokemon with a fetish for neglected dolls with the ability to produce blue fire using will-o-wisp.

Another dead end.

My father had known. He had known before he became he became a gym leader—before he became the Master—before he died, leaving me in the position as Master, as gym leader, as the only person capable of finishing what my father had started.

Except he did not leave me the most vital information. How to destroy Mew. Four years in Drape Town spent searching through records, files, journals, family heirlooms—and not a clue.

He had known. He had to have known… right?

"That was sloppy, Velcan!" Harvey Darcleye called from across the gym.

In the center of the gym, a Sneasel stood above a Charmeleon pointing, pointing a bright, sharp claw at the fire Pokemon's throat.

"We're not through!" a thin man with disheveled black hair yelled back. Suddenly, Charmeleon started to glow. The Sneasel took a step back.

A boy in the stands watched in confusion.

"Charizard!" The newly evolved Charizard flexed its wings, turned to the Sneasel, and released a stream of flames from its mouth. Harvey pulled out Sneasel's Pokeball and returned the Pokemon.

Velcan grinned. "See, we—"

"You won't be able to evolve your Pokemon every battle," Harvey interrupted.

"And your Sneasel won't be able to paralyze my Pokemon every battle. Each battle is different. We just use what we have to our advantage," Velcan answered.

Harvey gave Velcan a crinkly smile. "Well said."

Velcan turned to the boy in the stands. "Ready to go?"

The boy nodded and began the descent to the arena. "Mr. Darcleye?" he asked.

"Yes?" Harvey answered.

"Why didn't you attack while Charmeleon was evolving?"

Harvey frowned and glanced at Velcan before answering. "It's an unspoken rule."

"Why?"

Harvey carefully answered, "A Pokemon can get seriously hurt if it is hit while evolving."

"Then wouldn't it be best to—"

"That's enough," Velcan interrupted. "A Pokemon that is attacked during evolution can undergo permanent damage. Not attacking during evolution is a truce between all trainers."

"Velcan," Harvey spoke quietly. "Where are you sending this boy to school? How old is he? Seven? He should have learned this by now. Especially with his sharp mind—"

"I'm homeschooling him."

"Are you sure that's for the best? Have you actually been—"

"Ask him the attacks of any Pokemon."

"No, I didn't mean—"

"We haven't covered official battle rules yet," Velcan said.

"Mendol!" Harvey yelled. "It's rude to interrupt. And not attacking during evolution is not an official rule." Velcan opened his mouth to speak again, but Harvey held up a hand. "I don't doubt that you have taught your boy well. I am just concerned with his well-being. What does he do during the day when you're not home? A kid his age should be making friends in school."

"My Alakazam gives him lessons." Velcan lowered his voice. "He's been through a lot. We both have. Now is just not the best time for him to be attending school."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to raise your kid. Just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

Velcan smiled bleakly. "I do." The boy had reached the bottom of the stairs. Velcan took his hand. "Let's go."

At the doorstep of the gym, Velcan pulled a thin black cloak from his bag and handed it to his son. The boy routinely pulled it over his head, keeping the hood up. In the dim light, only his green eyes could be seen beneath the hood.

The pair walked only a block before turning off of the street and approaching what appeared to be a dark, empty office building. Upon entering the building, however, it was apparent that the building was anything but empty. Hallways were filled with diffused light and several busy-looking trainers, researchers, and other subordinates. Offices along the outer walls had thick blinds to keep even the weakest light from seeping into the outside world.

Velcan and the boy entered an elevator and were met by a tall, redheaded man wearing a black overcoat. The man nodded, "Mendol."

"Gibson," Velcan replied, smiling slightly. "How was your assignment? I heard the Master sent you to Sinnoh…"

"What I did is classified information."

Velcan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right. You've been gone a while. I know all about your failed dealings with Team Galactic. See, the Master promoted me because she values competence."

Gibson struggled to keep a straight face. "I was sent to Sinnoh because I'm the only person able to handle such a delicate situation—"

"Really? I hear she just wanted to get rid of you. Was tired of you, in fact."

"Tired?" Gibson echoed, looking slightly dazed. He stared at the elevator doors as if he was trying to burn a hole through them.

"What were her exact words? Something like 'Too clingy. Can't get over the one night.' I was under the impression she thought you couldn't handle her screw and split tactic."

"Screw and…"

"You know, new guy every week. I hear Arkle was the lucky boy this week." Velcan winked at Gibson. "Hope I'm next." The elevator opened to the fourth floor and Velcan and the boy stepped out. Despite being the top floor, the redheaded man did not move. Velcan waved a cheery goodbye to the stunned man as the elevator doors closed.

Velcan dropped his false smile and let out a long breath. He took the boy's hand. "Time to see the Master."

After walking down two twisted halls full of several wooden doors, Velcan and the boy stood in front of one such door. The door opened by itself to a room even less lit than the hallway.

"Mendol…" A woman said from the shadows. As the father and son entered, the woman added with distaste, "And Mini-Mendol…"

"Master." Velcan pulled out a cloth bag and placed it on the woman's desk. "That is Devon Corporation's latest recording technology."

"You completed your assignment rather quickly. May I ask how…?"

"I have connections."

"And the gym leader?"

"Continues to not look for, think about, or even consider Team Glop'emm."

"Well, Mendol, your performance for the team has been… incredible. Never have I been inclined to promote a charming man so rapidly." The woman licked her lips and ran a hand through her hair. "If only you would leave the boy—even for a moment…"

Velcan's eyes darted to the corner of the room, where a Kirlia stood against the wall. He squeezed his son's hand tighter. "I have my reasons. One day, my son may be of use to the team."

"Of course, of course."

"Master? There's something you should know."

"Yes?"

"Gibson… he—"

"What about Gibson?" The Master said uneasily.

"It's just, I overheard him talking to some of the guys. He was comparing you to some woman named Jupiter… talking about performances. He said you liked to come off all dominant, but…"

"Mendol, your next assignment is on your desk. Please leave."

Velcan nodded and pulled his son from the room. As they exited, the boy heard the Master mutter, "Should start calling him Meddle… perhaps for the best, though…"

Velcan and the boy walked down the hall and entered another office, this one empty. Velcan flipped the lights on and sat down behind a large desk, placing the boy on his lap.

"So, you see what I did?" Velcan asked.

"You made them angry at each other," the boy answered.

"Do you know why?"

"We need resources."

"That's why we want to be in control of the gym and of Team Glop'emm. I'm talking about tactics."

"You want to split them up."

Velcan ruffled his son's hair. "Right. Divide and conquer. That's important to remember." Velcan glanced past the boy to a framed scripture on the wall. "Always divide…"

"Dad, I don't like the Master. She's creepy."

"I don't like her either. But she won't be around much longer."

"You're going to kill her?" the boy asked in alarm.

"No, of course not. Then how would we be better than the legendaries, hmm?" Velcan patted his son's back comfortingly. "Jamie and I are going to get the Master to leave of her own accord."

"Because she'll be divided?"

"Right."

"I don't like this cloak," the boy randomly said. "It gets in my eyes."

Velcan turned the boy around. "Listen to me. You must never go out without the cloak. Never. We cannot trust these people. Not the Master, not Miss Teal, not even Jamie. Okay? These people can be useful, but we can never know for sure what they are thinking—"

"Unless we have a psychic Pokemon."

"You are proof that even psychic Pokemon can be mistaken. What we do is dangerous. Just promise me you will never let your guard down."

"I promise."

Velcan smiled. "Alright, then let's get to work. We have a legendary to find."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Anita," I said carefully. "Put Sparky down. I'm sure there's a valid explanation."

Anita ignored me. Sparky was shoved against the wall again. I noticed his arms and head were bleeding a little.

"Anita! Stop! He's an old man! You're going to kill him!" I looked helplessly at Mel. His eyes were wide in terror. An idea came to mind… "Mel," I whispered. "Take over—"

Mel shook his head violently.

"You have to—"

Anita turned to face us. "Don't even think about it," she hissed.

I wrapped my arms around Mel to comfort him. "A-An-Anita," Mel stuttered. "R-read his m-mind. You can t-tell wh-what happened."

Anita's strange bright eyes watched us. There was a moment I thought she would use her powers on us, but then Anita released Sparky from her psychic hold. She closed her eyes and took a long breath. "I can't feel her."

I wasn't sure if it was safe to approach her and Sparky yet, but Sparky looked like he needed help. Anita was completely motionless, still standing in the center of the battlefield. It was a sort of calm and a definite improvement. I decided to risk her wrath and check on Sparky. Mel didn't leave my side.

Sparky looked like an overturned rag doll among the various chunks of dirt and rock displaced from Anita's… tantrum. I bent over to examine the man. He had a gash in the back of his head and several scratches and bruises along his arms, but it didn't look life threatening. I reached to feel his forehead, but when a spark sizzled over his skin, I thought better of the idea.

Sparky moaned something incoherent and rolled over.

"What?" I asked, sending a quick glance at Anita. She was still motionless.

"Pokemon," he murmured. "Electric…" He tilted his head slightly to the wall he had been shoved against. I looked up. His Pokemon were still bound to the wall.

"Anita," I started. "Sparky's—"

The Pokemon were dropped to the ground before I finished. Anita didn't move.

I found Sparky's Pokeballs and returned his Pokemon. Sparky moaned again. "No. Electric. Need electric." His voice was hoarse.

I turned to Mel, who I still had my arms around. "Can you get him to a Pokemon Center? You did it with Anita before, right?"

"I… I don't know if I'll get electrocuted out. Anita did before. But I'll try." Mel disappeared. A few moments later, Sparky was getting up. Through Sparky, Mel spoke: "I can do it. I'll get him to your mom." Then Sparky disappeared.

I wasn't sure how to react to Anita. Should I try to comfort her? Leave her alone? I didn't want to set her off again. I briefly considered releasing Griffy to try to hold her, but thought that might make her angrier. Plus, I wasn't so sure Griffy could handle her in this state. I'd seen her do psychic tricks before, but this was new. And scary.

I decided my best course of action was to wait for Anita to say something. Maybe if I got lucky she'd fall asleep standing up.

"I can't feel her," Anita whispered again. "I can't feel Apple." Anita opened her eyes and looked at me painfully. Her eyes lacked the glow they had when she had been using her gift on Sparky.

After a brief internal struggle, I tentatively moved forward to give Anita a hug. Anita didn't return the hug, but she didn't stop me either. When I pulled back, I saw she was looking at Fiery, Vanilla, and Splash. I don't know what thoughts were exchanged, but Fiery nodded solemnly before Anita returned her Pokemon to their Pokeballs.

"Why don't we get going," I suggested.

"I have to find Apple."

"You said you couldn't feel her psychically, right? So she's certainly not here."

"I can't feel her anywhere. Not as far as I can reach out. Not in the whole town of Cape Caution."

"Ok, but there are ways of getting around your powers, right? Like the room you told me Sparky had set up. We can go check there—"

"Liam," Anita said definitively. "Liam took Apple." Her eyes started to glow again.

"Now, let's not jump to conclusions. There's no reason—"

"There's plenty reason—he's a suspicious son-of-a-bitch, never telling us anything—why he wanted to travel with us—why he doesn't use Pokemon but carries them around—"

"He told us an accident—"

"Bullshit." A rock crumbled somewhere in the arena. "He doesn't want me reading the minds of his Pokemon. He knows I'll find out what he's really after—"

I did not like the direction this was going. Attempting to distract Anita enough to prevent her from blowing anything up, I said, "You couldn't read their minds. He has dark type—"

"Yes, we know he carries around one dark type. Funny how that's the only one he's used. I'm a psychic but I don't carry around all psychic type Pokemon."

"You don't carry around any psychic type," I pointed out.

Anita stared at me for a second, the glow in her eyes flickering. "Right." She turned around and strode across the arena.

"Uh, Anita, I think the stairs are over—" My throat went dry when I saw Anita's eyes and facial expression.

"There's a better way," she said coldly. "Over here." Anita walked around a rock crag that had appeared from a distance to be a smooth wall. I had a bad feeling about the whole situation, but I was not going to let Anita out of my sight so I followed her.

We walked silently through a small dark passage before coming to a dead end. "Anita," I said softly. "We can—"

"This goes all the way up to the gym." I looked upwards and saw we appeared to be standing at the bottom of a large hole. I couldn't see the top.

"Yeah, but how—"

"Sparky had an electric wire and motor."

"We don't have electricity—"

"Shut up. I can get us up." Anita's eyes glowed again. I opened my mouth several times, wanting to comfort her or tell her to stop taking her anger out on me or convince her to calm down.

I managed to utter a series of, "Mmmhs."

After five minutes of chickening out, I finally said, "Anita, let's go use the stairs. It's okay if you can't get us up this way." Frankly, I was relieved.

"I can do it. I did it before. With Sparky." Anita breathed sharply and punched a wall. "Damn it, I can do it! I have to do it!" she yelled in frustration.

"Look, you were angry before and now you're having trouble concentrating—"

"I'M STILL ANGRY! APPLE WAS FUCKING TAKEN AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE IS!"

Suddenly, I was hurled upward. Rocks and dirt rushed past me as my hair whipped painfully against my face and shoulders. I closed my eyes until my stomach started to drop. Then I peeked them open and realized the rocks were moving in the opposite direction.

I was plummeting. Anita was falling with me—I hadn't realized she was with me before. Her face was twisted with concentration.

I don't know how I did it, but I did. Somehow, my brain processed all of this information fast enough for me to grab Griffy's Pokeball and yell, "Psychic, Griffy!"

We stopped falling. I looked down. We were about ten meters from the bottom. {Griffy, do you have enough power to bring us up?} I asked.

{I believe so, Miss.}

We started to rise slowly. I turned to Anita to tell her that thanks to Griffy we would not, in fact, plunge to our deaths, but when our eyes caught she looked determinedly away.

I glimpsed a tear rolling down her dirty cheek.

Gently, I put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

By the time we reached the top of the hole, Anita's eyes were dry. Griffy collapsed next to the hole, panting with exhaustion. I ran a hand across his fur and muttered, "Thank you," before returning him to his Pokeball.

The room we had ended up in was dark and musty smelling. I looked around and found Anita already running towards the exit. "Wait!"

Anita didn't pause as she bounded up the stairs in the corner of the room.

I quickly got to my feet and ran after her. Luckily, she was not far ahead, and I always managed to glimpse the direction she was turning just before she actually turned down a white hall. It was not long before we reached the outside. Anita was not bothering with the dirt path; she cut directly across the grass in the direction of the lab.

I followed in her path, breathing hard, propelling my legs, and thanking the Great Dragon I had worn tennis shoes instead of heels. Not that I couldn't run in heels. I just can't run as fast in heels—Zach once timed me—

This was not the time to be spacing out. Anita was going to try to strangle Liam and Liam would probably end up breaking her arms and legs in the process.

The biggest problem at the moment, though: I wasn't gaining on Anita.

I had longer legs and longer strides and we were running down hill, but I just couldn't seem to get any closer to her. The results of Liam's training, I supposed. Ironic.

I almost reached for Griffy's Pokeball before I remembered he was drained from his psychic exertion. Anita was only two hundred meters away from the laboratory, and I was still two hundred meters behind her. Professor Blubber was going to flip if any of his equipment was damaged…

Suddenly, I stopped running. I was an idiot. I reached into my backpack, pulled out my PokeTech, and pressed a few buttons. A few seconds later, Professor Blubber appeared on the small screen.

"Professor! Get Liam out of the lab, now!"

"Why—"

"No time! Just do it!"

Behind the Professor, I saw Liam carrying a box of supplies. Professor Blubber turned around. "Erin says you need to leave the lab."

Liam rolled his eyes.

"Liam, Anita's going to arrive at the door in about fifteen seconds to tear your throat out! You need to leave!"

"I can handle Anita," Liam snickered.

"Yeah, well, whether or not that's the case, the lab cannot! Get out!"

Anita reached the door. Even though it was probably unlocked, she psychically cracked it down the middle. I both witnessed the crash and heard it through the PokeTech. Professor Blubber blanched. "Go out the back window," he ordered.

Liam frowned, hesitating. "Why is she—"

"Liam's outside on the side of the building!" Professor Blubber yelled. Anita immediately backtracked out the front door. When Professor Blubber noticed Liam was not moving, he scooped Liam up wedding style.

"Hey! What—"

"I think you need to get out of here away from that girl. You're a strong lad, right?" He lightly tossed Liam out the window. Now I could see Liam in real life—not on the PokeTech screen. I could also see Anita turning the corner of the laboratory. "Well what are you doing? Run!" Professor Blubber turned back to me on the PokeTech screen. "Jesus, Erin, you didn't tell me the girl could do martial arts. Now I have a door to replace. What did Liam do to her? He is faster than her, right?"

"Um, Professor, Anita doesn't really do martial arts. Unless you count the stuff Liam taught her. Liam's the one with all the martial arts."

"So… the door?"

"Well, she's a psychic," I answered, distracted. Anita had reached Liam. She was attempting to punch him. I started to jog down the hill towards the lab.

"Where is she?" Anita yelled.

I glanced back at the screen. I hadn't thought the Professor could get any whiter. "She's a what? Erin, you just let me hand over a boy to a clearly unstable psychic? As in, like Tamara Lilac psychic? She blew up a door, Erin!"

"That's why she couldn't be in the lab. For whatever reason, her powers don't affect Liam. Trust me, he'll be okay."

Just then, several mounds of dirt exploded around Liam.

"Um, I gotta go."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

As soon as my foot made contact with the ground, I tensed my calf and quickly rebounded in another direction. Logically, my best tactic would be to keep on the move because even though Anita's gift was directly ineffective against me—

Dirt and rocks burst upwards from the spot I had been in milliseconds earlier.

—she could exploit the environment.

For a moment, I was tempted to let Anita continue on her rampage. It had been a long time since I had a decent fight. I missed the adrenaline rush, the surprise of a good opponent, the manipulation of chaos to control—

But there were more important matters. Why I was being attacked, for instance.

More dirt exploded between Anita and me. Instead of avoiding it again, I leapt directly through it and grabbed Anita's hand, effectively ending the fight.

"Liam! You're okay!"

I turned my head slightly and saw Erin running towards us. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Anita shift her body in an attempt to kick me. I simply lifted a leg to avoid being hit.

"You seemed more worried about the laboratory than about my well-being," I said, returning my attention to Anita. She continued to twist her hand in a poor attempt to force me to release her wrist.

"What did you do?" Anita said hoarsely, finally letting her hand rest. She glared at me. Her face was smeared with dirt and—were those tears?

"You know, I was about to ask the same question," I said.

"Anita thinks—" Erin started.

"No, I KNOW you took Apple!" Anita yelled.

"Apple's missing," Erin explained. "Anita can't sense her so we thought…"

Apple was gone. My heart skipped a beat. We had been so focused on Anita. Sure, we considered the others, always keeping in mind alternative possibilities, but Anita—perhaps we had been too focused—maybe…

"So do you have her?" Erin asked.

"Who?"

"APPLE, YOU MORON!" Anita yelled in frustration.

"No."

"No?" Erin asked.

"No, I did not take Apple. Why the hell would I take Apple?" Why would Mew assume I took Apple? Why would Anita assume I took Apple? Sure, I got the impression that she did not particularly like me, but…

Suppose Apple was Mew. What if Anita knew? What if she somehow knew that I was looking for Mew? Of course, I would be the first person she would suspect when Mew goes missing.

"I c-can't feel Apple anywhere." Anita was really crying now. Suddenly, a bizarre pang of guilt for restraining her wormed its way into my chest. I frowned. "S-sorry. M-my gift doesn't work on you s-so I thought m-maybe you took A-Apple."

Or maybe she did not know. Maybe Apple was not Mew. Maybe Anita was not Mew. There were too many possibilities…

I needed to get away to use the walkie. There was a sure way to confirm whether Apple was Mew…

"Where's your bag?" Erin asked.

"In the lab." I narrowed my eyes at the girl. "You think I took Apple, too?"

Erin shrugged. "Anita's paranoid… but she's right. You're really the only one we know who could pull something like this off."

"I feel so trusted."

"If you didn't do it, then you have nothing to worry about," Erin said as she walked away from us. "I'll just get your bag and we'll take a peek." She rounded the corner of the lab.

Anita slumped down to sit on the ground, and as I was still holding her wrist, I was forced to sit down as well. She sniffled. I watched tears roll down her face and lightly hit the grass.

"You should stop crying," I said.

"Why? Because it's pointless, and useless, and won't find Apple?" Anita said sourly. "I know that."

"Well, I was going to say it is weird, but that works, too."

"What would you do if one of your Pokemon—right, you don't like Pokemon—what if someone you care about—do you actually care about anyone?" Anita put her head on her knees. "I guess it's pointless to talk to someone like you."

"I'd do anything for the people I love."

Two dark-haired boys playing in the sand, splashing each other with salt water, wet sand sticking to small feet as they slide in shallow water—

"You sure know how to show it."

"I don't love you."

"I wasn't talking about me, dumb-ass. You don't seem to care about anything or anyone—"

"Says the crying, self-involved girl who can't keep her emotions in check and has an inability to focus on anything that doesn't directly relate to herself or her precious Pokemon."

Anita turned her head away. "Y-you're wrong."

"So are you," I snapped.

"I'm back!" Erin said, returning with my bag. She dropped the bag in front of Anita. "Want to do the honors?"

Anita picked up the bag. I thought she would open the bag up and begin unshrinking everything. I was overestimating her intelligence.

Anita hurled the bag as hard as she could at the ground. There were several cracks followed by flashes of light as the shrinkable containers in my bag broke, releasing their contents all at once. I was grateful to have the walkie-talkie and Pokeballs in my pocket at the moment, not smashed in my bag.

"Thank you for that temper tantrum," I said.

Erin and Anita examined my possessions, now prominently on display across the grass. There was my broken bicycle, three piles of neatly folded clothes, a half-empty first aid kit, two loaves of bread wrapped in plastic, peanut-butter, a few notebooks and writing utensils, my PokeTech, and my Pokedex.

"Where's your toothbrush?" Erin blurted out.

"At your house, still."

A breeze swept by, causing one of my notebooks to flutter open and a pile of shirts to topple over.

"Anita, he doesn't have Apple. Let's go to the police station and talk to Officer Jenny."

Anita's face was blank and she started to get up. I stopped her for a moment. "Are you in control?" I asked.

Anita nodded.

I released her wrist. Her eyes glowed briefly and then returned to their normal violet.

"Maybe you should hold on to Anita, just in case," Erin said hesitantly.

I raised my eyebrows at Erin. "I'm not coming with you. Next time you want my help, consider not smashing my belongings first. It's polite."

Erin shifted her weight uncomfortably. "She'll pay you back."

"Good."

"Liam, she's really hurt now. With Apple missing…"

I crossed my arms. "Okay."

Erin sighed and took Anita's hand. "Let's go."

I waited until they were out of sight to pull out the walkie-talkie.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

I held up the final flash card.

"Grill."

"No, Sticky. Girl. Repeat after me, girl."

"Grill."

My Ditto, Sticky, was sprawled in a plastic chair across from me, its body a perfect replica of mine. We were in an isolated experiment room practicing Sticky's English. "Come on, Sticky, this is no time for games. This is the last card. Pull your cheeks in a little bit. Girl."

"Grill."

"Excuse me, Professor Teal."

One of my many research assistants peeked his head through the door. His eyes flickered between me and Sticky, confused as to which of us was the real Rita. "Yes?" I answered.

"Another prototype is ready for testing."

"Bring it in."

The assistant entered the room holding a metal cube the size of shoebox with two metal rods sticking out of one face. I took the box from him.

"Now, Sticky, this might hurt a little bit."

"Heart?"

"Pain. Remember pain?"

"Yes, pain. Not no brain. Sound hard make. Know pain."

I flicked a switch on the device and held it out to Sticky. Sticky willingly lifted its hand to touch the two metal rods. A blue spark flickered onto her palm.

"Ow."

I returned the device to the assistant, shaking my head. "It still doesn't untransform her. It needs more work. Have you been working with Tal? The Alakazam's psychic will make it easier to manipulate the electric pulses."

"Yes, Ma'am. We'll get right on it."

"I'll be there in just a minute to have a better look. I need to clean up here."

The assistant gave me a funny salute and exited the room quickly. I sighed. It was a little disturbing how terrified several of the grunts were of authority figures on Team Glop'emm. Though I suppose with Jamie and the Master in charge, it was to be expected.

I gathered up my notebook and several stacks of flash cards.

"Help?" Sticky asked.

I looked at the Ditto. "What?"

"I help?"

"You'd like to help?"

Sticky nodded. I handed her two stacks of flash cards and we exited the room.

"I you now," Sticky said as we walked down the tiled hallway.

"Yes, Sticky, you are transformed into me right now."

"Yes. Not no brain. I w-won't me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, Sticky."

"I you. Not me. I won't me." Sticky grimaced and made a strange face, widening her mouth. "I want me."

"Sticky, you don't have your own human form—" I was cut off by a buzzing on my hip. It was the walkie-talkie Jamie had so kindly left behind for me.

"Master?" I answered.

"Er, no. This is Liam, the Master's detective."

"Oh. I didn't realize there were three walkie-talkies…" I said.

"Is this Professor Teal? Isn't Mr. Arkle supposed to have the other walkie? May I speak with him?"

"Yes, this is Rita. Yes, Jamie is supposed to have the other walkie. Jamie, however, left the other day for some supposed family emergency."

"Did he tell the Master?"

"He said he would. Can I help with whatever it is you are calling about?"

"Do you have access to the Pokemon tracking device?"

"Of course."

"Have there been any sightings of Pokemon X in the past twelve hours? I have reason to believe Pokemon X transformed a few hours ago in or around Cape Caution. I wanted to confirm this before contacting the Master—you know how he dislikes false alarms."

"I do not believe Pokemon X has been sighted. If it had been, I would have been informed, and the Master would have been contacted immediately. I will go double check." I quickly walked into the experiment room with the tracking device in it, sat down, and ran a history search on Mew. "No, Pokemon X has not been located since the third of July."

There was silence on the other end.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes. Disappointed. Thank you."

"No problem." I hung up the walkie and swiveled around in my chair. Where Sticky had just been standing, a young girl with blonde hair now stood. "Sticky?" I asked tentatively.

"I not you."

"No, you're not. Who are you? I don't think I have seen the girl you transformed into before."

"You can't. She nerve. She nerv-ner-nev-never. She never. I me."

"I don't understand."

"I me. I make me. I me."

I felt the blood drain out of my face. My hands shook. "Y-you're telling me you made her. You created what you transformed into?"

Sticky smiled happily. "I girl."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

My lungs were being crushed. I couldn't move. I couldn't flick my tail, twitch my ears, or wiggle my pink claws. Not a muscle.

{I know you can do better,} 868,012 said coldly, pressing the psychic barrier even harder. 868,012 is what most of my kind called him. I preferred, "Father."

{Someone's been too busy being a little trainer's pet furball to build up a strong psychic,} a voice taunted.

I pushed my mind, forcing air into my lungs, but I wasn't strong enough to push the barrier crushing me away. It was pointless, anyway—this training. There would never be a time when traveling with Anita that it would be safe enough for me to resume my form as a Mew. I counted the years in my head—I was fairly certain I had spent more time as transformed Pokemon than I had as a Mew.

Suddenly, I was released from the psychic grip. {Meditation break for an hour,} Father Mew said. {You're not focusing.}

I didn't move, allowing all my sore muscles to relax. I tried to drift into oblivion…

{You're never going to get back at this rate. Never going to complete your training,} the voice taunted again.

{Shut up,} I said.

{You miss her. Want to know what she's doing right now? She's crying over you. Poor little girl doesn't have her best friend, doesn't know what happened to her best friend because her best friend didn't warn her—}

{I didn't know.}

{Sure. You had the dreams. You knew. You didn't want it to be true. And now look, you've yet again brought about chaos.}

{You could bring me back before that. Before Anita misses me.}

{I could.}

{You will,} I demanded.

{I could, but then there'd be no fun, hmm?}

{You're sick.}

{No, I'm actually feeling quite well. You're the one who's looking beat.}

{I'll transform into you. I'll go back to the right time myself,} I threatened.

I felt something stroke my cheek. I opened my eyes and sent a psychic pulse above me.

A green little fairy, with pseudo-innocent eyes and nearly invisible wings flipped through the air, laughing. {No, my sweet, delectable Apple, you won't.} I blinked and the fairy was suddenly next to my ear. {And would you like to know why you won't.} I thrust out another psychic pulse.

{Why?}

Celebi did another flip in the air. {Because someone's tracking you in your time. If you transform into your true self for even a moment, you're dead meat… or rather, dead fruit.}

{You're bluffing.}

Celebi winked. {Maybe. Want to test that theory?}