My next thought was that Jolene was probably still resting, so I went past the centre and instead went back to Pallet by myself.

There was a certain amount of defiance behind the decision. The professor had told me that I shouldn't go through the glade alone, which, frankly, was stupid. I had been there on my own for six years, with nobody tagging along except Kevin, on occasions he felt particularly spiteful. And then, suddenly, I was told that it was a no-go unless I had a Pokémon. Why did he suddenly want to stop me from doing that, out of nowhere?

However, there was also the fact that I was afraid. Perhaps, just perhaps, I had no reason to – but I could not help having that nagging feeling that I was, somehow, going to mess it all up. There were stories about people whose Pokémon had turned on them and attacked them, and of other Pokémon running away and even dying...

But the greatest fear to me had always been that, if I was ever given a responsibility for another creature, they might end up hating me for it. I loathed being hated, and I would rather just avoid the whole thing – and now, since that had just happened, the fear was even stronger.

Still, and this surprised me greatly, I found myself more concerned with something else. Mum had told me, a few weeks ago in solemn discussion, that the real world was... difficult. Pokémon could die, she had said. That was, of course, only natural. Father had died many years ago, almost before I was born. So of course, Pokémon would die, too. Nobody could live forever – several people had tried, but they all passed away in the attempt.

But… dying was one thing, but dying was another. What Mother had said, was that sometimes, just sometimes, Pokémon could perish in battle. Not from old age, or illness. They would fight, like they often did on the telly, and then suddenly one of them might fall to the ground and don't get up again. According to her, it was rare, but it still happened every now and then, if things got particularly heated…

Of course, that happened to humans as well. They said so on the news, that people might stick knives in each other every now and then. Sometimes several times, or several knives. Even an axe, that one time, but when the anchor had mentioned that, Mum had grabbed the remote and told me to go out and play in the trees.

The fact that she'd told me that Pokémon might die, though, made me worried that they died differently.

So I walked alone, to be by myself for a little while.

It was still a good day, outwardly. A few more clouds had appeared in the sky, but they were barely scatters of dust when compared to the large blueness of it all. The sun hung there, too, and warmed the ground between the occasional lashes of wind.

Also, a colony of Pidgey had started pecking on Mad Roger's toes. He was giggling softly in what I could only assume was a sleep. The birds flew away as I passed the scene.

There was, however, a very noticeable lack of danger. All the while, wild creatures completely failed to appear and jump out at me and bite me and whatever they were supposed to do with helpless children at their mercy.

Feeling smug, but also a bit robbed, I went through to Professor Oak's lab, and pushed open the door with my shoulder.

He was there, as usual. So was Kevin. Both somehow caught eyes with me just as the door swung away; I headed straight for the two of them.

"Good afternoon, Kim," intoned the professor. "Back so soon?"

Pausing only to dart my tongue out at Kevin, I replied: "Um, yes, sir. Only mist'r Dale tole me to give you this." I lifted up the brown package so that he could see it more clearly.

"My word, could it be? Is it here already?" he said, lighting up. Without a hint of hesitation, he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and strode towards me, so that we met in the middle of the floor, where he knelt with his arms outstretched. "May I see?"

"'Course, mist'r Oak, sir."

He took it with both hands, and held it up to his ear; two experimental shakes later, he seemed satisfied. "It is, isn't it. Well, it's a rather helpful coincidence you're the one to deliver it, Kim!"

The man stood up, and walked back to the table where Kevin had been sitting with a finger up his nose. Oak shoved the boy off, and put the package down gently. Then he turned to face us. Or as it was at that moment, he turned to face me and Kevin's bottom.

"Oww, grampf, why'd y'do dat?" complained Kevin as he picked himself off the floor, but he was ignored. I smirked happily to myself.

"This parcel contains two copies of a remarkable object. Most every trainer gets given one at the start of their journey, and so it's only right for you to have one each, too." As he spoke, his fingers undid the wrapping; it fell off to reveal two small metal casings, and a lot of bubble wrap. "It's called a Pokédex, and it automatically stores information about any Pokémon you come across. It's a high-tech encyclopaedia!"

"How?" I asked.

"Well," said Oak, "it's quite simple. It can read the creatures as it sees them, and gathers what it fi– it'd be much easier to show you. Where's your Charmander, Kim?"

"Not here, sir."

"Not dead, is it?"

"... No," I said, after a short pause.

"Oh, well, no matter." He shook his hand a little, then took one of the Pokédexes into his grip, swinging off the lid. Inside it was a screen and a whole lot of buttons, the use of which I realised that I would have large problems figuring out.

Then again, I had a distinct feeling that so would the inventor.

The professor turned to Kevin. "Do you have your, ah, Fquirtle with you, Kevin?"

"Yef, grampf," he replied, taking out a Poké Ball that was much smaller than usual. He pushed the button to enlarge it to normal size, then pushed it again, releasing a stubby and by now very apprehensive tortoise.*

"Mrmm," it said, and scratched its ear, or where its ear would have been if it had got any.

The professor rubbed his hands together. "Very well, then. This is a fairly uncommon Pokémon, in general terms. This Dex shouldn't have any information stored about it, so it will be completely ignorant. The Dex, not the Squirtle, of course. Observe..."

He held the item towards the water turtle. On the top of it was a sort of glass bulb, like the one they have on old remote controls, and this was pointed at the Pokémon's head. A sudden blink confirmed that the Pokédex was at work.

A mere second later, it hiccuped. Professor Oak pulled it towards him and stared at the screen for a little while, mumbling to himself.

Then he held it out. "So, with just a moment of reading the creature, Dex has got all this info from it..." Pushing down on a yellow oval button with his thumb, he let free a mechanical voice that droned dully.

"Squirtle, the Tiny Turtle Pokémon. After birth, its back swells and hardens into a shell. It powerfully sprays foam from its mouth," the voice said, then subsided. The professor clapped the lid back on, and grinned.

"That's how it works. Simple, isn't it?"

"But..." said Kevin, suddenly. "'Ow'f it know itf fhell, um, hardenf afta' birf?"

I could not avoid throwing a surprised look at him. He was actually being topical.

The professor froze, too, although he stared into thin air rather than at the boy. A hand lifted up and placed itself underneath his chin, and he frowned slightly.

After a notable period of deliberation, he said: "Now that is a puzzle... Supposing... Well, I'm sure it's already in the device somewhere, somehow." He tossed a glance down at the Squirtle. "Unless the knowledge is stored in Pokémon, and time doesn't... My, oh my, that's quite a concept. I must admit I've never given it much thought... This calls for a conference, ahah, call, quite instantly..."

Tuning out his thoughts for a second, he quickly grabbed both Dexes from the table, and handed one to each of us. I noted, although only as a passing point, that I got the one where Squirtle had been registered; briefly and with some degree of contention, I wondered if Kevin would ever think to include the tortoise in his encyclopaedia.

"There. Now, go out and catch all the creatures you can find, fulfil the dreams of my lost youth, all that nonsense. Off you go, I've got some important discussions to host, and no mistake..."

As I was shoved out the door, I heard him mumble something about a quite wide variety of trees. Perhaps he was changing jobs to become a botanist.

Kevin prodded my shoulder lightly from behind; then, as I turned around to face him, he pushed hard on my shoulders and ran for it. "I'll catf mo' dan you!" he shouted, and was long out of view before I could come up with a retort.

A few seconds after he had vanished, I exclaimed "If you mean venereal diseases, you're right!" in the general direction he had gone off. It made me feel better. I had no idea what it meant – nobody had ever told me what 'venereal' was supposed to be – but I had always had it figured for something to do with veins. Or possibly it was a sort of 'venerable' for illnesses, only since they were, well, illnesses, it went the other way.

Possibly, I might have been a bit too harsh.

That was as far as my thoughts went, because the next second, Professor Oak smashed open the doors, and shouted: "Stop, don't-" before hampering himself. "... Oh, there you are. Where's Kevin?"

His entrance (or, as may be, exit) had not been of the type I could just shrug off. I had staggered back a few feet, lost my footing, and had had to lean up against a fencepost to keep my balance. I heaved for breath.

"Well, Kim, do tell! It's vitally important that-"

"Ran, mist'r," I managed. Then I nodded towards the path.

"That thoughtless young boy... Hmm..."

He turned to me, and regarded me critically for a few seconds.

"Why're you hanging from there, child?"

"Um, sorry. Din't mean to..." Slowly, I got back up properly.

"Oh, well, I suppose it's not important. Now... I just received a message. Might be a good thing to know about. The government put out a restriction on catching Pokémon, just an hour ago. Seems there's a crisis somewhere."

"… What's that mean, mist'r Oak, sir?"

"Means you can't catch that many Pokémon. It seems a whole bunch of kids've been coming to the other professors, I've been told they came to me as well, I'll be mogadored if they have, I haven't noticed a single one, and gone on a wild catching spree, hah. Means there's a lot fewer Pokémon remaining in their own communities, so the League's going to reduce captures in order to protect them."

I did not understand a word of what he was saying, so I nodded mutely.

"So, if you're out there, you'll have to make do with only a few, is that clear? Otherwise they'll come down on you hard. Might revoke your licence. Only catch when needed, then move on, that's the ticket."

He turned towards the spot where Kevin no longer was. "Hmm... I don't suppose he'll be able to do much harm, with his abilities... Ahem. I'll let him go. Can't think he'll damage the wildlife much except mentally."

"Um... Licence?" I asked. My foot was twirling slightly in the dirt, having had the sensation of not knowing something vital a few seconds before my brain did.

"Well, without it, you can't own or live with 'em. Pokémon, I mean. If they take your licence, you'll have to give back Charmander, and have to live without the things the rest of your life. So keep in line, d'you hear?"

I gave him a hesitant, solemn nod, one with quite a lot of terror inherent in it. Just then, I had realised what he was trying to say - if I broke the rules, I'd have to retur- to give up Jolene...

I had not wanted to catch all that many of them to begin with, but now I was scared of using even a single Poké Ball...

He scratched his chin. "Don't be scared of training on 'em, though. Remarkably resilient, every single one. If they faint, they'll be back up in a matter of minutes, mark my words. The league just don't want too many taken out of where they belong."

Despite myself, I had a sudden vivid picture of Pokémon as springboards.

"Say," he said, noticing my worried expression before I did. "Don't be scared. I'm sure it'll be fine. How'd you like me to set up a bit of a limit for you, just to be certain?"

My head nodded before I could consent to it, but that was fine, because I was going to. I sniffed. He gave me an understanding smile, and set his voice to a more careful tone.

"Just catch one Pokémon per route. That's the roads between cities, you know. That good with you? Oh, and no catching more than one Pokémon of each kind, 'cause that's the clincher, that's what they're afraid of. Well, that seems to be fine," he said suddenly, breaking out of the mannerism and clapping his hands together without waiting for me to respond.

All I managed was to blink, before saying a hurried "Yes!"

The man gave a sigh, and then shook his head, turning back to the door. He paused just before going in, and glanced back at me. "Good luck, Kim. Keep an eye on Kevin for me, won't you?"

And, before I knew a word of it, he was back inside, while I was left alone on the lawn.

* I had heard about this before. There was a difficult name for it, which was 'multi-functionality'. It meant that you could never be quite certain exactly what was going to happen if you pressed the button, no matter how many times you'd done it before. Apparently, this was very useful.