Savoir-faire – To Know and To Do
B: Forme fruste
"Ah," she said. It was said with a tone that lent shivers down my spine. Like the last time she had walked into the Lost Hotel without protection and alone. Like the time she won in Hold 'Em Poker against the Five Families of Nimbasa, which started her bid towards investment later.
Either way, it meant danger or adventure. Usually both.
And how goes it today? I asked her.
Daisy Linden, now Marguerite Linden du Bois, Ph. D., smiled wanly from pillows. "I suppose, really, that I'm better," she admitted, "but I feel so terribly depressed. I can't help feeling how much better it would have been if I had died."
I eyed the morphine drip, estimating that someone had been giving her too much opiates. I recommend a mental tonic.
"I have just the thing," she waved one of the newspapers at me, a Standard edition of « Le Monde ». "Apparently, the Shalour forensic department were remiss in their announcements. There's been a retraction that the girl was carrying on with her Tyranitar."
Is that safe? The question came before I could stop myself.
"A beast that weighs over two hundred kilograms, is known for tyranny and violence?" She wrinkled her nose. "Probably... with precautions... and if she wasn't squashed. The mise en scène: Julia of Hearthome, part of the Sinnoh delegation, was not with the delegation. Instead, she was out training her Tyranitar in the Lumiose Badlands. Renaud Sauveterre, correspondent of « Le Monde », also reports that Julia had been confirmed dead for around two or three weeks, based in estimates that were found from that corpse the Tyranitar dragged with him. Scène: Julia dies, presumably in the Badlands, and the Tyranitar apparently took over two weeks to storm from Route 13 to here, where we shot him in the head and where the Tyranitar is under custody with Wikstrom and Grimsley to lend a hand. The Tyranitar's fate is unknown at present, though Champion Cynthia Shirona is in negotiation to have the Tyranitar charged under Sinnoan law. Cynthia is firmly backing the Tyranitar, with the claim that yes, trainer and Pokémon were together."
Is that allowed?
"Sinnoh has never followed anything like the hotly debated Sexual Offences Act in Kanto," she reasoned. "Culturally speaking, Sinnoh folklore do discuss the possibility of such matings, notably with Gardevoir, Gallade, or Lucario. The point, though, is that, if we discount the damage we regarded as sexual assault as simply... hardware incompatibility, then we are still left with a motive. The pieces have not assembled."
Blood, leaking from her midriff as she gasped my name: "Don't look..."
As the horned one has done, I articulated to her.
" Précisément. " She folded up « Le Monde » , now starting on « Les Oreilles » . "The opinions of Kalos's right-wing aside, they do raise a valid point: why did the Tyranitar choose not to destroy the body, but rather drag it with him? A Trained Pokémon might have known of the penalties attacking a human incurs. It's also rather easy to lose a body in the Tisane. Yet Julia remains intact. Mostly intact. Factor in the injured Zapdos. A presumed single Pokémon with the training and intelligence to use both Stealth Rock and Stone Edge at the same time, versus a legendary Pokémon. Rain Dance is a known move of Zapdos."
You think that the Zapdos called forth rain to dissolve the Tyranitar's Sand Stream?
"I know it did," I answered. "Coincidence? The universe is rarely so lazy. So, our Zapdos and our Tyranitar face off sometime while it's unclear if Julia was dead or alive, but Julia was very much physically with the Tyranitar, alive or dead. Depending on the context and time, the Tyranitar took the overland route through the Badlands, over the high mountains surrounding the Steppes, where it possibly ran into the Zapdos upriver of the Tisane. They fight, and depending on the moves utilised, the rain created a landslide. They part ways, with Zapdos crashing here, and then we find the Tyranitar a week later when he finally descended."
She held up her hands. "Question: Motive? Weapon? Was the move immediate? Did Zapdos witness the murder?"
Then we need to interrogate them, I reasoned.
"I cannot leave the bed," my dear Trainer pointed out, oh so reasonably. "So you will have to interrogate them."
The Tyranitar had been isolated. While a Pokéball was a viable prison in some cases, the Tyranitar being a Trained Pokémon without its Pokéball meant that it was isolated from general population. Part of the Pokémon Centre had been isolated, with an Arcanine and Throh standing guard, accompanied with Grimsley and Wikstrom.
All four illustrious fighters nodded as the Lucario doctor wearing a stethoscope walked into the room. It is surprising, how many people never realised that Pokémon workers in the healthcare system were sentient too.
The Tyranitar lay on an extra-large mattress, bound by its own weight plus electronically maintained restraints. A metal plate had been inserted into its partially melted skull, presumably when she shot him.
I consulted the charts first. Aside from the very glaring symptom of magnesium burn, he was perfectly healthy, although there was smoke in his lungs from the aforementioned burn. How odd.
The Tyranitar began to stir.
You are awake, I telepathically began. Do you remember?
He groaned. Who are you?
A doctor. You are currently being held on the charge of first-degree murder, with another possible charge for attempted murder.
Tyranitar groaned. What? What? I didn't kill anyone!
The corpse of Julia of Hearthome was found with you.
Trainer? Trainer is... gone? Where? I was- I was protecting her, my friend!
Here I must note; there is no fixed word for 'trainer', 'master', 'mate' or 'friend' in any language of Pokémon, and these three terms see a certain overlap in any of their uses in a single term. There was no need to differentiate, since it was mainly 'us' versus 'them'. I think it a very good idea, except in an operating theatre, where 'us' was the surgeon and 'them', everyone else. Certainly more egalitarian than humans and their distinctions. (There was also no distinction for 'father', 'mother','son' or 'daughter', plus the parent-child distinction was also rather weak. When I told her this, her only reply was that only humans gave a thought to incest and family hierarchy.)
However, in this case, I must agree that it made the situation hard to understand, as the Tyranitar began crying.
She always tried to shelve off such matters, or broke the news quickly and professionally. Yet, for all our interactions, nowhere had we ever needed to inform a Pokémon that their Trainer had died, let alone the suspicion surrounding them. By rights, a doctor was supposed to summon help and stipulate a recovery plan, before turning over such affairs to the police. There was the concept of justice; then there was also the concept of justice across regions. Kalos might be fine with imprisonment, but the Tyranitar was dead the moment his trial concluded in Sinnoh.
Whatever you might think, I did not want to consign anyone to death.
Perhaps you could tell us what were you protecting your Trainer from.
His movement was restricted; to us Pokémon, we communicated with our bodies. Due to the aforementioned transcription and communication problems, I have attempted, with large clarification and help with a map, to lay out the sequence of events:
Julia had gotten a pair of stones in Lumiose City. One was to be given to him, the other kept with her. They had been training in the Badlands; Julia had been attempting to activate the stone, to no effect. A large bird-like Pokémon had attacked from the skies, and while a Tyranitar could resist a Thunder, his Trainer had been less lucky. Tyranitar had taken his Trainer and headed for the city immediately, and yet the bird had diverted him through the mountains, away from the city and through one mountain range that tore from the Lumiose Badlands to the banks of the Tisane. Having braved the river, the bird had caught up, necessitating a battle in which Stealth Rock, Stone Edge and, later, Pursuit was used. The resulting wreckage had toppled corpse and Pokémon into the Tisane, where we found them.
While the original sequence of events were much longer and included many irrelevant and worrying details, I have merely written down the relevant events, since, despite my education, the art of storytelling is beyond me. The subsequent rupturing of a Tyranitar's trachea from burn wounds, in comparison, was easy.
My next visit as a doctor was to the morgue. While the Tyranitar had been under comparatively strict surveillance, the morgue was rather empty. As least, I believed so until I caught sight of the Haunter hovering nearby.
The Gas Pokémon stuck his tongue out and faded into shadows, away from me.
I approached the large container, looking for a name. I found the box, opening it with only a touch of difficulty. I found myself reflecting that perhaps I should have interviewed Zapdos first, but I needed information. I had a feeling that Zapdos's interview would not go smoothly without more information, for us to craft questions.
Julia's own body had been battered and rotted enough that I could not differentiate if it was electrocuted or battered to death. The less said, the better.
It was only a matter of time to find what I searched for. The collar that I found nursed amongst her torn, bloodied and cut clothes, was matte black. From it hung a hook, upon which the round orb of the Key Stone was nestled. Compared to the stone I retrieved from Tyranitar, it was small, and yet both stones seemed familiar the more I compared them, in aura and in sight.
Having retrieved what I wanted, I was at a quandary. I did as I had done with most quandaries. I locked up Julia, considered the empty, cold underground room, and then headed back to the general ward.
Though, I had to hide the objects behind my back once I saw her silhouette.
"Not the first time, I take it," she crossed her arms.
Diantha shook her head. "Zachary, in Santalune with his Scizor. Corey, in Couriway with his Manectric. Julia was the most public, since we discovered her Tyranitar was responsible for the Shalour landslide."
"All from Sinnoh?"
"Corey was from the Unovan contingent. He was running to Couriway on the word of his friend. Zachary was from Hoenn. Why d'you think?"
"You should bring your questions to Augustine," she answered, dropping her hands. "Daisy Linden is not here, and Marguerite is no help to you. Good night, Madame Carnet."
Madame Carnet stiffly nodded, walking out. She ignored my presence as she sauntered down the corridor.
She started when both stones dropped onto her lap. "Altair?"
Julia possessed a clé de voûte. As did Tyranitar. They were attacked by Zapdos for this reason.
She frowned, considering the pair on her lap. "A positive identification?"
A large bird-like creature that used Thunder, could it be anything else?
She pondered. "In Kalos... unlikely."
The Zapdos must have killed Julia.
"Let us consider. A Zapdos flying over the Lumiose Badlands suddenly attacked a Trainer practising Mega Evolution with her Tyranitar. Zapdos's grudge went to such depths that it pursued Tyranitar and his Trainer across the steppes, the Tisane, and caused a rainstorm for the express purpose of ending Julia and, possibly, Tyranitar with her." Here she fixed me with a look. "Balance of probabilities suggest criminal intent. Yet, there is no way to clarify, or prove it."
It would be our word against the Tyranitar.
"Yes."
Your mistress sent you? He bristled when I entered the room. A stench of ozone hung about; the room smelt nominally clean, but without the smell of cleaner and disinfectant that I was inured to.
Greetings, I chose to reply. I bear word. Your attacker is here.
The Zapdos crackled as I headed to the IV drip the Pokémon Centre had had him attached to. I see. A sad thing that those healers have me attached to these disinfectants.
They are for your own good. I demurred, checking the levels of morphine before I injected the bag with a syringe. How do you feel?
Disrespected. Zapdos replied, leaning back into his makeshift nest. The mortals are not properly deferential. We are not as respected as our brethren across the ocean, in the heart of the Plateau.
The definition of respect does have a tendency to vary across locales, I agreed, though I had never been to Kanto.
You have been raised amongst them, Zapdos gave me a gimlet eye.
I was born in this city.
Then you cannot understand how it must be like for us, Zapdos cackled. To accept humans, or perish. I knew... someone. I suppose this is what the child of Mew felt when faced with this inexplicable... thing.
I remembered, once upon a time, a thesis presented by her regarding the inequality divide of the city and country. There was a story of the Country and City Pichu that reminded me of his situation.
I told Zapdos as much, who harrumphed but enquired about the story, which I told:
A Pichu from town, a country Pichu
Invited in the civilest way;
For dinner there was just to be
Ortolans and an entremet.
Here, I forbore to explain the old Kalosian tradition of force-feeding Fletchling to burst before cooking them.
Upon a Turkey carpet soft,
The noble feast at last was spread;
I leave you pretty well to guess
The merry, pleasant life they led.
Gay the repast, for plenty reigned,
Nothing was wanting to the fare;
But hardly had it well begun
Ere chance disturbed the friendly pair.
A sudden racket at the door,
Alarmed them, and they made retreat;
The city Pichu was not the last,
His comrade followed fast and fleet.
At this, Zapdos stirred, almost in alarm, and yet the intravenous propofol had taken effect, leading him to shake his head. What happened to them? The Tyranitar- the Pichu. Those two friends.
I tried to recall if it were enough, or I should risk injecting him with more of the milk of amnesia. It was easy to continue the story:
The noise soon over, they returned,
As Pichus on such occasions do;
"Come," said the liberal citizen,
"And let us finish our ragout."
"Not a crumb more," the rustic said;
"Tomorrow you shall dine with me;
Don't think me jealous of your state,
Or all your royal luxury."
At this, Zapdos gave a weak cry, faint sparks stirring. No... Tyranitar... why couldn't you leave her? Why? I didn't want to...
When his eyes fell closed, the last stanza echoed between us, unspoken. Neither of us could speak, anyway.
But then I eat so quiet at home,
And nothing dangerous is near;
Good-bye, my friend, I have no love
For pleasure when it's mixed with fear.
She was telling Darkrai the same story when I came up, having disposed of the syringe on my way into a medical waste bin. I lingered, not interrupting, but listening as she lulled every one of us here quietly through the ninth fable of Jean de la Fontaine:
Autrefois, le Pichu de ville
Invita le Pichu des champs,
D'une façon fort civile,
A des reliefs d'Ortolans.
Sur un Tapis de Turquie
Le couvert se trouva mis.
Je laisse à penser la vie
Que firent ces deux amis.
Le régal fut fort honnête,
Rien ne manquait au festin;
Mais quelqu'un troubla la fête
Pendant qu'ils étaient en train.
A la porte de la salle
Ils entendirent du bruit:
Le Pichu de ville détale;
Son camarade le suit.
Le bruit cesse, on se retire:
Pichus en campagne aussitôt;
Et le citadin de dire:
Achevons tout notre rôt.
- C'est assez, dit le rustique;
Demain vous viendrez chez moi:
Ce n'est pas que je me pique
De tous vos festins de Roi ;
Mais rien ne vient m'interrompre:
Je mange tout à loisir.
Adieu donc; fi du plaisir
Que la crainte peut corrompre.
She smiled once the Pitch-Black Pokémon was asleep, looking up to me from the glow of her Holo Caster device. "How was it?" she asked me.
...forme fruste, I answered. Some complications have arisen.
Her expression turned confused. "Oh?"
Zapdos seemed to have held feeling for Tyranitar, I explained. Along with the Mega Stones, with everything else, with his reaction to the tale of two Pichu hiding from the Furfrou that would have seen them eaten.
"There is no way we can prosecute Zapdos on this evidence," she declared the moment I finished my tale. "It would not only be troublesome, but it would be your word against his, and this evidence is not concrete. It's even less reliable since it's inadmissible in court. No court would open a case against a wild Pokémon who chose to attack without reason."
That is not my concern, I related. It was his words. 'I didn't want to.' What could make a legendary Pokémon, a minor godling at that, do something he didn't want to?
She nodded at last. "So... Zapdos has an employer. Had an employer. What did you do with the syringe?"
I crushed and disposed of it.
"A lot of doctors aren't Lucario, you'll be interrogated immediately- well done, you," she remarked as a heap of tapes landed on her lap. "Now, wake Crystal up. We have evidence to dispose of."
The next day found that Tyranitar had succumbed to his wounds in the dead of night. Later, as I walked out for a breath of Shalour's air, I saw Nurse Joy and two sombre Rangers levy a body out. Electricity sparked from it, the vestige of a legend fallen.
I had participated in this; justice had been subverted in this course. Was I right? Was I wrong? Any medical ethics board might have questions, and yet I find myself relatively unperturbed.
What do we do? I asked when the sun approached noon and she was packing her bags.
"What do you want to do?" she glanced over a list. A habit long began, I remembered from Delphi, when it occurred to her that preparation was nine-tenths of a successful journey.
I... don't know.
"Then you don't have to do anything," she pointed out, ticking the last thing on her check-list. "Do you want me to pack some Emmentaler cheese?"
Delphi and I had partaken of that cheese as our last meal together. Delphi was always more of a gourmand than I. No, thank you.
I would not know if it was right; I am merely a Lucario.
"Okay... done," Marguerite sighed once the bag was settled. "Bonjour, M. Wikstrom."
He walked in, but this time Seigneur Wikstrom held only a nod. "Madame du Bois. May I have the honour of escorting you?"
She snorted. "You may."
"Very good. For I intend to."
"Doctor? Dr du Bois- whoa." the boy was here now. "Erm... Mr Wikstrom. Hi."
"Wikstrom would be fine," he replied. "The name of de Rais is hardly ever used, anyway. Joyeuse, I shall require assistance, s'il vous plaît. "
One of her Pokéballs burst open, and Aegis faced, against the other Aegislash, near-identical eye matched.
"Doesn't sound very joyful," I heard Donar comment to himself.
"Joyeuse, for the emperor's sword?" she commented. "Might as well have named him Curtana."
"There is only one of the last three Aegislash to have lived the length of Kalosian history," Wikstrom replied. "Joyeuse has been in service since he was awarded to the Maison de Rais by the Princess of Notre Dame."
Aegis spun to me, nodding. The other Aegislash... it clinked, a grind of steel as it turned from Aegis, formerly Durendal, to regard her with an eye.
I do not believe that I liked the idea of a third Aegislash. She was already walking on thin ice; she did not need another Pokémon attempting to interfere in her future. Watching as Seigneur Wikstrom escorted her out, a hand on the small of her back and a Darkrai in her shadow, I could almost believe that the incident, what happened years ago that killed half our team, could remain in the past.
The past never remains with humans, I realise. It reaches to the future.
The original fable is obviously from Aesop's fables, although the given version is adapted from 'The Town Rat and the Country Rat' by Jean de la Fontaine.
Here, I think Altair took on a very Victorian approach to telling. It's not a lot of emotion from his end, since he was more focused on telling the story, but I imagine that he tries to make up for it in detail.
Joyeuse is the name of Emperor Charlemagne's sword. Like Durendal and Curtana, it was one of the Big Three in the stories about Charlemagne and his court.
Critique, s'il vous plaît!