Chapter Two: The Hunt
While it might have been wise to simply stake out the area and wait for my quarry to come home, I felt like taking a more active approach. I could always come back and put that plan into action if I failed to locate her by other means. From what Marty had told me, it was unlikely that Arabella would be in any of the potential hideouts I'd noted in my Pokétch, especially if she was in charge of the new Game Corner and its secret objectives. She probably had lodgings in the hidden areas the stoned informant had told me about during out meeting. Still, it was possible she might be using one of the locations I had noted for whatever business had taken her out of Jubilife. So, worth a shot right?
I went on foot, letting Lucky trail along beside me out of his Pokéball. I'd have preferred to fly, but while taking off is allowed from nearly anywhere there are laws about landing in any location not officially approved by the League. I've been known to break those laws when needed, but the time saved wasn't worth it at this point. So, with Lucky keeping a watchful eye out, we visited the Ravaged Path, going all the way to Floraroma Town. Nothing there. We set off past Floraroma to look around Eterna Forest on the other side. No new buildings that I could find, and hidden underground bases seemed unlikely considering the cheap ass Game Corner Arabella was working with. I hear those things are hell on your budget. That left the Old Chateau to look into.
The old mansion loomed over us as we approached, casting us in even deeper shadow than is normal for Eterna Forest. People claim the place is haunted, its hard to get to due to the thick vegetation that grows nearby (facilitated by Budew and Roselia who tend to replant small trees when they are cut down), and all around even brave Trainers rarely care to go in there. Even rumors that Rotom, the outrageously rare Ghost/Electric-type, can sometimes still be found inside only brings truly dedicated hunters. If I was going to hide an illegal operation, that's where I'd go. If Ravaged Path hadn't been on the way I'd have gone to the Old Chateau first.
Spitpyre kindly shredded a number of small trees and shrubs, clearing a path to the door while I kept an eye out for any signs of recent passage, habitation, or surveillance. Aside from some very shallow footprints, I saw nothing. They were too light to even be sure if they were human or just human-shaped Pokémon. Still, the place lacked that empty feeling abandoned houses usually have. I set Lucky to guard the entrance while I edged quietly around the side, keeping my coat drawn close to blend with the deep shadows a bit more thoroughly.
I stepped up to have a peek through the window, looking into the kitchen. I hadn't expected much, but to my surprise there was a tall man in a white lab coat putting a sandwich together only a few feet away. I froze in place, holding my breath so as not to give myself away by fogging up the window, and waited for a chance to ease back out of sight. So, someone was present here. And familiar enough with the place to be preparing and eating there. Didn't mean it was connected to my case, but it was definitely worth the effort to find out. The question was, how to go in? I'd only seen the one man, but there was no telling who else might have been present. With my six mons and my katana, I'd bet on myself going up against almost any single opponent, and most double teams, but if they had a basement full of goons... that could be less pleasant.
So, perhaps the sneaky approach was best. I waited for a long count of ten, then checked the window again. No one in sight. I tried the window, moving with care. It would defeat the purpose of trying to go in this way if it screeched and squealed on the way up. To my surprise, it slid up quiet as a stalking Persian, if not so smoothly. I quietly whistled, calling Lucky to me, and slid silently through the window.
I'd been to the Old Chateau once before, a very long time ago when I had put myself in the hands of Veilstone City's Gym Leader Maylene for training. Back then, it smelled musty, old, and unwelcoming. There was a feel to the place, as if it did not welcome visitors. The oppressive feeling remained, the moment I crossed the threshold into the building it seemed a tiny voice in my brain started whispering "We should not be here!" But the kitchen I had climbed into smelled of cleaning products, lemon scented. The counters and sinks had recently been cleaned thoroughly, the floors freshly mopped. A quiet hum revealed the refrigerator was running, so apparently the electricity was on here, rather than just the one eternally static-plagued television upstairs. Interesting, that too spoke of long term inhabitation.
I slipped deeper into the big house, looking around cautiously with Lucky at my heels. It was dim inside, no lights were on anywhere. Lucky's eyes were lit up, providing me a hint of light to see where to put my feet while he looked through the walls nearby. One of my favorite things about Luxray is their X-ray vision. So infrequently used by most trainers since it is useless in most battles, the ability is amazing when you need a guard, or when hunting and infiltrating in areas with thick vegetation or walls. The big cat was silent as he padded along behind me, as he always was in this circumstances. So when I heard the almost inaudible crackle of static electricity, I knew at once he had spotted something.
Following the shine of his eyes, I found he had focused on something behind the wall to my left. I flattened to the wall, silently sidling down to the doorway and cautiously peering around the side of the archway leading into the dining room. Lucky stuck close, letting out a soft growl I'd come to associate with him telling me to be careful.
The scientist, if that's what he was, stood near the table, his back to me. Aside from the lab coat which I had noted earlier, he seemed likely to be a scientist due to the device he held in his hands. He was scanning left to right and back, looking at a small LCD display screen set into a device that looked oddly like a camera, but with more wires and circuit boards cobbled together on the outside. He was frowning, munching idly on the sandwich he'd been making when I arrived as he tilted the device back and forth.
Looking up, it was easy to see what he was so interested in. A man in a butler's uniform was moving slowly from one end of the dining room to the other. Not an interesting sight, overall, except for the fact that this place was supposed to be abandoned. Oh, and that he was not walking, or running, or really moving at all. He seemed to be a full six inches off the ground. And that I could see the wall behind him, though he was perfectly visible, as if I had somehow learned to channel a Luxray's visual trick. As I watched, the figure disappeared, only to reappear at the right side of the room and begin the floating trek all over again.
So, this scientist looked less likely to be involved with Arabella and her lot. From what I could see, the device in his hands was likely a home-built variation of the Silph Scope originally manufactured in Kanto. Though why he had need of it when the ghost was perfectly visible was beyond me. A moment later the scientist held his sandwich crust in his teeth, freeing his hand to press a small button on the side of his scope. A soft click sounded, and a slot in the bottom of the scope spat out a small square of white paper that immediately began to darken. So it didn't just look like a camera, it actually was one. The moment the click sounded, annoyance seemed to flicker over the spectral butler's face before he vanished once more. This time he did not return.
"Research log seventeen," the scientist said into a small tape recorder, which he pulled from his pocket. "My suspicions that the presence in the dining room area would linger if it detected that the living persons observing it were eating have proven valid. The spectre made a full five circuits of the room, more than long enough to attempt to photograph it using my scope-cam. The photo is developing now... success! The ghost is visible in this photograph, though oddly the color-palette seems reversed from what I actually saw with my own eyes," he reported to the recorder. "Further evidence that the ghost is aware of me, it seemed to react to the click of the camera, immediately disappearing and even displaying a measure of emotion at the sound. Further research into this area is needed, as the little girl spirit in the upstairs bedroom has never displayed any sort of awareness to me," he continued to dictate his research. This was looking like a bust, so I had begun to edge back down the hallway when he finished with a deeply irritated final notation, saying "Further research will have to be delayed, however, as Arabella has shortened my deadline as well as increasing her standing order for Nectarz to be sold in order to finance my official project. While I prefer to study the presences here, and indeed volunteered for this assignment for that very reason, I sadly must perform my official duties in order to be permitted to stay here and indulge my hobby." The scorn in his voice clearly said that his superiors disliked his so-called hobby.
I stayed in place as he exited the dining room, a hand gripping my katana, ready to draw if needed. Most science-types were not overly capable, physically, but this one was quite tall, a full six inches higher than I. You don't get that tall without some decent mass to go with it, even if you're skinny as a rail. No sense taking chances. No threat presented itself though, he turned away from me and headed into the main foyer at the entrance. Keeping a hand on my weapon, I tailed him quietly, with Lucky on my heels once more.
It wasn't a long walk, the two of us only barely kept out of sight as he turned and did something that made the monster statue click audibly. A moment later he went through a hidden doorway that had been behind it, which I found contained a very steep, narrow stairwell set into the wall, leading to the left and downward. We hurried to get past the frame, squeezing into the cramped space just as the statue swung back into place, locking us in. Well, time to hope there was not in fact an army of trainers in the basement.
We slid down the stairs slowly, me managing my sword to keep it from getting stuck in place or making noise, with the big cat leading the way now. It was dark in there, and he kept me from slipping on several of the more uneven steps. It was chilly down there too, no surprise there, and I was once more thankful for my heavy coat. It took a surprisingly long time to reach the bottom of the stairs, even factoring in the slow pace we had to take in the cramped space to keep from overtaking the scientist. The large basement chamber we eventually came to must have been very deep under the mansion indeed.
Unlike the stairwell that led down to it, the basement was spacious and well lit by buzzing florescent lights overhead. I've never liked that sort of lighting, it gives me a headache and washes the color out of everything. At the rear of the room was a large electrical collection plate, which in turn was affixed to a series of cables leading upward. A large cage surrounded the plate, holding in several Ampharos, a Raichu, and an Elekid. They were clearly wild, trying and failing to shock the scientist as he walked past them. All their electric attacks redirected to the metal plate, taking in power and storing it to run the house. Clever, there would be no waste products to trace that way aside from Pokémon shit, and there was no shortage of that in Eterna Forest.
An additional series of cages littered the left-hand side of the room, holding a number of small to large Grass-types ranging from a Bellsprout to an Eggsecutor to a bloody Tropius, squashed into place in a cage much too small to accommodate its huge palm-frond wings. They were all as pale and unhealthy looking as you'd expect of Grass-types being kept in a sunless basement. A row of stainless steel tables stood before these cages, covered in beakers, flasks, bunsen-burners and the like, as well as a huge mortar and pestle set. A whole production line to make high-end Nectarz for sale. A huge storage locker sat at the end of the table, no doubt packed with finished product. This was probably where Marty's vice had been coming from before the boss cut him off.
On the third wall, to the right of the power generating cage, sat a large workbench, an angled desk with drawing tools to work on schematics and the like, and several toolboxes labeled to determine their contents. Two racks next to the workbench held Pokéballs and various bits and pieces of equipment, wiring and circuit boards. The scientist himself was making adjustments to something he had set up on the drawing board. He was apparently making adjustments to the plans for the transmitters Marty had told me about. Perhaps this scheme of theirs was not as far along as he seemed to think. The scientist was focused on the work in front of him, muttering under his breath about some algorithm he needed to rethink to get access to work just so. Every so often, he would glance at the photo of the ghost wistfully.
Well now, wasn't that all interesting? This could be a chance to royally fuck up Arabella's plans and gain information on her whereabouts all at once. Possible downside, the destruction of he little lab could be one hell of a head's up that someone was on her trail. That might not be the best thing to have happen. I looked over the mons that had been callously locked away down here, the Grass-types beaten down and weak, the Electric-types almost psychotically angry. I couldn't leave this exactly as it was, but neither could I afford to give Arabella any warning that I was after her. She'd shown a tendency to rabbit when she was busted and escaped in the past. And so far she was my only link to the other higher-ups of this organization that I knew of. Even if I was willing to let her go, which I most definitely was not, I couldn't afford to lose her. Its situations like this that make me wish I had a good Psychic-type on my team, so I could hit this guy with a mind bending whammy and have him report back whatever I wanted. But, lacking that, I'd have to get creative.
I stepped out of the doorway, standing at my full height, and stood silently behind him. At a hand-signal from me, Lucky remained crouched in the entry, his black and blue fur barely visible in the dim light there. With my left hand resting negligently on my sword's menuki, I cleared my throat as if politely interrupting a conversation. The scientist turned, angry at the interruption as if he expected someone else to be standing there.
"Hi!" I said brightly, making sure my expression did not match the cheerful tone. I've found when intimidating someone, a juxtaposition between tone and expression, with a little careless body language thrown in, does wonders. "So," I said as he flinched back from me, "whatcha doing down here buddy?"
This was not my week for successful first impressions, as far as scaring my foes into obedience goes. Rather than stammer and panic, as I'd intended him to do, he stood and transitioned smoothly into a pugilist's stance on the balls of his feet and then hit me with a right hook that sent me spinning to the floor before I could recover. Stupid criminals, not doing what they're expected to do. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, waiting to see if I stood up, when Lucky let out his brassy battle cry and came flying out of the stairwell at the man who had hurt his trainer.
The scientist reacted to the screaming cat much more as I had wanted him to, flinching back and going wide-eyed. But, he still displayed better than average reflexes and capability. He backed up quickly, snatching up a Pokéball from the rack as he went, getting into a corner at the rear of the room. Which sounds stupid, backing into a corner with an angry Pokémon that's over four feet tall and weighs nearly 100 lbs. bearing down on you. But, in this case it was clever, Lucky had to come at him head on, and the scientist had wisely put himself close to but not in contact with the electrical collector plate. Lucky tried to put him down with Discharge, but every tendril of electrical force he sent out curved and struck the plate, brightening the lights briefly. Before the Luxray could charge in to make the assault more of the up-close variety, the scientist threw his Pokéball.
Lucky was in midair, fangs glittering with arcs of electricity dancing between his snarling lips, when the energy emerging from the ball solidified into a Hippowdon, sand leaking from it's snarling mouth and the ports along its sides to pool around its massive feet. Lucky struck home, fangs snapping down on the newly appeared mon. And accomplishing nothing as the electric charge his Thunder Fang technique had built up flowed freely through the creature and into the floor.
At it's master's command, the Hippowdon slung it's head sideways, casting the smaller Luxray back across the room. I tried to recall Lucky into his Pokéball, not wanting to risk him in a close-quarters fight with the type disadvantage working against him, but my jaw was swollen from the punch I'd taken. The opposing mon was faster, first digging its way down into the concrete floor as Lucky passed back through the air before erupting under him, sending a plume of soil and concrete shards flying up to nail my Luxray. Lucky shrieked and spasmed as he flew upward from the force, before collapsing into an unconscious pile of bleeding fur.
That made me mad. I threw myself to my feet, recalling Lucky manually into his ball even as I threw another with my right hand. Bruce looked at the opposing Hippowdon with hungry eyes. It'd been a full month since his last battle, he was clearly looking forward to this. He bounced in place, waiting for instructions as he snapped his jaws threateningly at the scientist.
"Hippowdon, move to the side and use Take Down," the scientist calmly ordered his mon. Without hesitation, the Heavyweight Pokémon did exactly as instructed, jumping to its right and charging forward to smash against Bruce, knocking him backward towards me. The big, sand-spewing hippo paid for it, both recoiling from the impact and sending up a spurt of blood from the Sharpedo's rough skin.
"Bruce, wash this fucker's face for him," I called out, and Bruce almost seemed to grin. He righted himself and turned, spinning in place to put the jet on his rear into alignment with his foe. The Hippowdon made a face, trying to move aside, but Bruce fired his Aqua Jet too fast. His foe had only managed to turn broadside to him, making a bigger target. Water sprayed out with enormous force, smashing into the Ground-type and turning its sand to mud, washing it away.
Unfortunately, I apparently wasn't thinking clearly. When the Hippowdon had moved aside at its trainer's insistence, it had moved to stand right in front of the collector plate. With their tormentor standing so close, the Electric-types in the cage were trying to fry him almost non-stop. And guess where Bruce's attack was pointed?
The smell of burning fish scales was strong as my Sharpedo took multiple attacks against which he was weak all at once, flowing direct up the flow of water and back to him as he convulsed and collapsed onto his side, heaving a trickle of water through his gills. The Hippowdon collapsed right beside him in a splatter of mud, creating a double K.O.
"Tricky fucker," I said, calling my shark back and rubbing my sore jaw. "You took down two of my team. I got four more, though. Give it up and let's talk."
In response, the scientist laughed and threw two more balls he had hidden in his labcoat. From inside emerged two Pokémon more associated with scientists, a Porygon-Z and a Muk. They looked over at the crippled Hippowdon before it dissolved into an energy stream and whipped back into it's ball, which used the force of the returning Pokémon to jump back into the enemy's hand. Then they started advancing on me.
I snagged two more Pokéballs of my own from my coat and tossed them one at a time, one to my left, one to my right. 'Scicle tried to growl at the Muk as he emerged, though as always he sounded like he was singing. His frost-coated fangs at least let the enemy know what he meant. Meanwhile, Iron Maiden barely fit in the space afforded her, but oriented her gaze immediately on the computer-generated Pokémon.
"You're making me mad, buddy," I told him, letting the anger simmer in my voice. He arched an eyebrow, studying me almost like a bug as he waved a hand at the Porygon-Z. The bizarre, disconnected head of the creature rocked forward, a wave of visible psychic energies flowing out in a spiraling wave. I'd expected it probably knew some decent Psychic-type attacks, most Porygon trainers make sure to get a few of those on their Pokémon, which is why I didn't send Spitpyre out. Luckily, it aimed the attack at 'Scicle, who was strong against special attacks like that one. The Psywave clearly hurt, but the savage little Ice-type just let out another musical snarl and stiffened in place. The icy blue hair that covered him took on a shine, standing on end, as my Pokémon acted of his own will, using Mirror Coat to send the energy right back at the attacker.
Meanwhile, Iron Maiden struck out at the Muk before it could attack either of my mons. From her place coiled around the Nectarz production tables, she lifted her tail, tightening the metal plates there to harden them further, then slammed it down on the Muk's "head" with enough force to crack the floor below it. The Poison-type reeled, its gooey body smashed flat by the Iron Tail technique.
"Pory, use Conversion 2!" the scientist called to his still standing Porygon-Z. That's the problem with Mirror Coat, if your own Pokémon isn't hurt very badly it doesn't do as much good to send the damage back to sender. As I watched, the CG mon's skin flashed dark black for a moment as it converted its type to Dark, becoming immune to Psychic-type moves like Mirror Coat. "Muk, Acid Armor and Minimize!" he called out, and the Muk instantly secreted a layer of fast-drying acidic gunk while contracting in on itself. Maiden's next swing missed as the Muk seemed to shrink in place.
"Switch targets guys, 'Scicle hit with Ice Beam, Maiden use Rock Smash," I responded. A moment later the Steelix had slammed her massive head down on the newly Dark-typed opponent. Rock Smash is a weak Fighting-type attack, but with the damage it had already taken plus the weakness to attacks of that type, it was enough. The computer generated mon collapsed, virtual blood leaking from it's mouth as it went into one of Porygon's odd shaking patterns. Poor thing was glitching. Meanwhile, 'Scicle opened his mouth wide, sending a beam of icy energy at the Muk and managing to hit it despite its presenting a minimal target. The Acid Armor shrugged off a goodly portion of the attack, but not all of it. The Muk reeled back, blubbering out an angry call as its trainer demanded it respond with Toxic. "Maiden, intercept that!" I yelled urgently, and the poison-immune Steel-type obliged, slamming her head down and letting the sickly purple vomit her enemy had sprayed out splash over her rather than 'Scicle.
"Damn it Muk, we're going to lose!" the scientist called. He sounded afraid now. "Use Flash," he called, and the Muk responded with a bright flash of light formed from a chemical reaction in it's innards. 'Scicle and I were shielded from it by Maiden, but she got it full force, blinding her temporarily and causing her to jerk back away from the disgusting pile of sludge. "Now hit the Glaceon with Flamethrower!"
That was bad, but I had no chance to react. More chemical reactions occurred inside the Muk as it rapidly produced flamable gas and expelled it, a touch of Fire-type energy igniting it. A stream of fire engulfed my Glaceon, who let out a pained shriek. When the flames cleared I couldn't help but let out a cheer. 'Scicle was still standing, still savage despite the pain he was clearly in. And his fur was once more standing up and shining with reflective radiance. This time he'd taken heavy damage, almost enough to put him down. If the enemy had been a true Fire-type, he'd be out of the fight for sure. And as I said before, the more you hurt a Pokémon with Mirror Coat, the more it hurts you back if it doesn't go down. The Muk's gelatinous body all but exploded as the energy it had sent out went hurtling back at it, blasting gobs of its sickening, smelly mass all over the scientist who had commanded it. It managed to stay up for a moment, then slowly teetered and collapsed in on itself, dead. 'Scicle struck his foe with lethal force, and he sang in delight as the "corpse," if it can be called such, dried up. He's always been a hostile little thing.
I walked over to the scientist, pausing for a moment to spray 'Scicle with a Full Restore to restore his strength and eliminate the burn that last attack had left him with. Then, I stood over my foe and glared. He was on his knees, coughing and retching. Muk fluid is horridly toxic, filled with poison, germs, even carcinogens. With the dose he'd gotten, he probably had thirty minutes to live, tops. Unless someone helped him out. This could solve my dilemma easily.
"Listen buddy, if you wanna live," I said, and though he couldn't respond verbally he nodded quite vigorously. "I've got enough Antidotes with me to patch you up and keep you from shuffling off this mortal coil. But if you want them, you're gonna have to work for me from now on. Deal?" I demanded, letting him know this was his only chance.
"Deal," he croaked, followed by a wash of vomit I barely avoided. I grinned, opening up my pack and sorting through the medicine pocket. This was going to go very well.