Brock ran over to examine him. "He's not moving, Misty!"

She turned towards Team Rocket. "You! I swear, if he's hurt–"

"Terribly sorry, but it's really none of our business," replied Jessie quickly.

"Yes, we'd love to stay, but you know, when the going gets tough, the tough get going!" said James. Meowth grabbed the Machine and the cartridge, and they scurried away.

"Brock, we can't let them get away!" exclaimed Misty.

"Misty, Ash is in danger, we can worry about them later!"

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"He's still breathing, he's still got a pulse," Brock said. "Hello, Ash, can you hear me!" Nothing.

"Pikapi, pika!" Pikachu cried, delivering a sharp electric jolt to Ash's limp body. "Pi, pikaCH–"

"No, Pikachu!" Misty pulled him back. "You'll kill him!"

Pikachu withdrew the charge, succumbing silently to tears against Ash's arm.

"We have to get help, fast," Brock concluded. "I'll go call an ambulance. You stay here."

"All right." She propped up his head with her bag. "Hang in there, Ash."

– – –

Brock and Misty paced anxiously outside the doors of the emergency room. After a surprisingly short period of time, Nurse Joy emerged with a clipboard.

"Nurse Joy!" Brock stood up, but sat back down, suppressing his instinctive response for the sake of propriety.

"Yes, you may have met my sister at the Pokémon Center," she said.

"Joy, is Ash all right? What happened to him?" asked Misty.

"Well, I have good news and bad news," replied Joy. "The good news is, we examined your friend thoroughly, and it's clear that there's nothing wrong with him physically. He's perfectly healthy."

"He is?" said Brock excitedly.

"But the bad news is, we can't figure out what is wrong. We tried everything. We even tried putting him in a chair and tipping it backwards. But nothing will wake him up."

Misty rubbed her forehead to conceal her eyes. "Can– can we see him?" asked Brock.

"Certainly. Right this way."

They followed her into a room full of beeping machinery. Ash lay there peacefully on the bed, his chest moving slowly up and down. "Kachu!" Pikachu leapt from Brock's shoulder to go hug him on the face. "Pikapi…" he sobbed.

"See, look at this," said Joy. She shined a flashlight into Ash's eyes with one hand, and with the other pulled his eyelids open. His eyes darted this way and that, as if looking for something.

"Can he see us?" said Misty.

"I don't think so," Joy answered. "He doesn't respond to the light."

"So, what are we going to do?" Brock asked.

"To be completely honest," said Joy gravely, "we have no idea what to do. This does not seem to be a medical problem. Tell me, how did this happen?"

Misty and Brock looked at each other.

"Please, your secrets are safe with me."

"We– we were in a Pokémon battle," Misty began. "Team Rocket, they had this Machine–"

"There was this strange blocky thing," Brock continued. "It attacked Ash."

Joy nodded knowingly. "I see. Perhaps the stories are true after all…"

"What stories?" asked Misty.

"I think you may have seen a Glitch Pokémon."

"Glitch Pokémon?" said Brock. "Do you know what's wrong with Ash?"

"I'm afraid I only know them as an urban legend… you'll need to talk to an expert on Pokémon."

Misty looked back at Brock. "We could call Professor Oak!"

"Here, you can use the phone right here," Nurse Joy offered.

Misty walked over to the video-phone and dialed, and Oak appeared on the screen. "Why hello there Misty, so great to see you again!"

She cut right to the chase. "Professor Oak Ash got attacked by a Glitch Pokémon and now he won't wake up please please please can you help us?"

"Wait wait, calm down Misty. What happened to Ash?"

"Team Rocket attacked him with a Glitch Pokémon," Brock answered. "By the time we got to him, he was unconscious. We still can't figure out what's wrong!"

Oak suddenly grew pale and turned around off-screen. He returned moments later, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "Professor?" asked Misty.

"Misty, Brock, there is someone who can help you." He paused. "Nurse Joy, would you excuse us?"

She nodded and left.

"Listen very carefully," Oak continued, as he fed the paper into the phone's scanner. "There is an old man in Viridian City. His name is Professor Vattha."

"Vattha?" asked Misty. "How is that even pronounced?"

"Uh…"

"Oh, right."

"Anyway," Oak went on, "if anyone can help Ash, this man can."

"Who is this guy?" asked Brock suspiciously, taking from the printer the mugshot of the unkempt, white-haired man. "Is… is there something you're not telling us?"

Oak sighed nervously. "I was hoping I could leave this behind me…"

"Come on Professor," Misty objected, "we need to know the truth!"

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "We were colleagues, many years ago. He was a brilliant mathematician at the Cinnabar Labs. When I asked him what he was working on, he would only say 'MU.' He wouldn't tell me anything. I gathered only that some kind of machine was somehow involved.

"I saw less and less of him as the months went by. Eventually, I learned there had been… an accident."

"An accident?" asked Misty.

"I can only guess what actually happened. But he fell unconscious, just like Ash. Didn't recover for nearly ten years."

"Ten years?" Brock exclaimed.

"But when he did, it was just like that. Got up, put on his shoes, and ran out on his own two feet."

"What happened to him?" Misty prodded.

"No one heard from him for days. I finally went over to his office to see if he was all right. He had covered the walls with arcane mathematics. All he did was furiously scribble equations and proofs at his desk, all day, all night. I tried to talk to him. But he wouldn't stop working, not for a second.

"The Lab let him go. They tried to have him committed to the Viridian City Insane Asylum. But they judged him to be a hopeless case who posed no danger to others. So they released him. As far as I know, he's been roaming the streets of Viridian ever since."

"So you really think this Vattha guy can help Ash?" said Misty.

"It's a longshot, I know," Oak replied. "But he's your only chance. He's the only one who's ever recovered from something like this. He might just know how to rescue Ash."

"Well then it's settled," declared Brock. "Misty, let's gather our things, we're flying to Viridian City right away!"

"Thank you, Professor," she said.

"God speed." He disconnected.

They knelt beside Ash's bed, holding his cold hands. "We'll save you, I promise," said Misty solemnly. "Take good care of him, Pikachu."

"Pika."

– – –

Two black-clad figures stepped out from a shadowy alley behind the Viridian City Gym, each carrying a bag with a large currency sign on it. "Excuse me," said Misty, offering forward the photograph. "Have you seen–"

With a look of recognition and disgust, Team Rocket turned up their noses and walked away.

She looked down in frustration. "Ugh, we're never gonna find him this way!"

"Now Misty," said Brock, "we can't give up yet. Just think – if you were a crazy old man, where would you go?"

"Hmmm, well, he's a mathematician, right? What is it they say? A mathematician is a device for turning coffee into theorems?"

"Never heard that one before," Brock replied. "But it's worth a shot at least. Uh, 'scuse me," he said, pulling aside another stranger. "Do you know of any places where you could get coffee around here?"

The green-aproned man's ears perked up. "Why, I'm very glad you asked! Right this way," he said rapidly, leading them inexorably, as if by an invisible thread, in the direction of his shop. "What can I interest you in today? Our double deluxe creamed spiced chai latte? Or perhaps you'd like to try our latest offer, the super-black espresso mocha cappuccino?" They approached the entrance of the café. "Only the best at Crescendoe's!"

Brock scratched his head. "Um, sorry, but we're a little too young for coffee…"

"Oh," said the disappointed shopkeeper.

"We were actually wondering if you could help us find this man," said Misty, handing him the printout.

"What, you mean Old Man George?"

"You know this guy?" asked Brock eagerly.

"Actually, he's one of our most loyal customers," he replied. "Terribly strange fellow, though. Always sits in the corner, never says a word. And he always pays us with gold Nuggets – not that I'm complaining or anything…"

"Where can we find him?" said Misty.

"If it's like any other day, he's probably here right now."

They hurried inside. Brock and Misty instantly recognized the bedraggled old man in the corner, looking exactly as an insane professor should, surrounded with heaping stacks of papers. "George, these kids were looking for you," said the shopkeeper, and disappeared into the back.

"Hmrph," he grunted, neither looking up nor pausing from his incessant scrawling.

"Uh, hello," Brock began. "My name is Brock, and this is Misty. Are you Professor Vattha?"

He gave no response.

"Listen, um, George," said Misty, "our friend is in trouble, and you're the only one who can help us. Please!"

He reached the end of his sheet, looked at it for a second, and then scratched a large X through the whole page. "No no no!" He crumpled it up to throw onto the ever-increasing mound.

"Please sir," Brock persisted. "Our friend was attacked by a Glitch Pokémon, and now–"

The man stood up suddenly and grabbed Brock by the collar. "What do you know? !"

[Author's Note: See you next Friday!]