Chapter Three: E010
An hour before the ceremony was due to start, Professor Ercus sauntered into the reception area of the university with an air of purpose. An intense ray of sunlight shone through the glass entrance doors to his left, lighting the marble floor and metallic walls with a golden glow. To his right, a portly guard was slumped behind a curved desk. Despite the tumultuous chatter that could be heard from the spectators who were gathering in the park outside, the guard had managed to fall into a deep sleep.
Professor Ercus knocked politely on the desk.
The guard jerked awake and regarded him with sleepy eyes. "Apologises, Professor. What can I do for you?"
He repeated the words he had carefully rehearsed. "I was wondering if you would kindly lend me your master key. I have only gone and misplaced my laboratory key again. The night guard already gave me the last spare just a week ago . . . Old age, you know."
The guard scratched his many-layered chin. "Shouldn't be handing that out . . ."
"You could come and open the door for me?" he bluffed, praying it wouldn't be called. For a horrible moment the guard began to get up, but then he hesitated and allowed his enormous bulk to fall back into the comfort of his chair.
"You're alright, Professor," the guard said, removing the master key from a chain on his belt and offering it to him. "Hurry back with it, mind."
"Sure. Thank you."
He took the key and turned away before a change in his expression could betray him.
As he left the reception area a sudden thought occurred to him. What if the guard watched him on the security cameras? He peered over his shoulder, his worries instantly put at ease. The guard's head had lolled to the side and his eyes had fallen shut once more.
The professor continued on, grateful that the ceremony was causing a laxation of security inside the building, and for the blistering heat and the drowsy effect it had.
He navigated the bright halls of the university, making his way to the government quarters, the newest section of the building. Annex Hall and the office complexes that rose up either side of it like stone guards were constructed behind the university ten years ago as a way of fulfilling the sudden requirements of the councillors and mayor of the city.
Almost a decade ago, council meetings were held at City Hall in the Northern Ward of Celadon. However, due to a spike in pokémon-related crimes, the council was forced to relocate to the Southern Ward and in back of the university. This allowed them to call upon the special expertise of the professors and academics, whose understanding of pokémon was indisputably unparalleled. A year after the construction of Annex Hall and with the professional input of the professors, the council issued a ruling based on general consensus which banned all inhabitants of Celadon from possessing more than a single pokémon. Soon after, the law was amended so that the age restriction was raised to eighteen.
The professor grimaced, recalling the memory of a ten year old Tommy and the broken look on his face when he was told he would have to wait another eight years until he was allowed to have a pokémon.
He'd never forget the look in his eyes. He'd never shake the guilt.
At the time, he believed wholeheartedly that the restrictions were just and would better the community. In hindsight, he could see that it wasn't enough. A decrease in crime had been recorded throughout Celadon, cementing the council's justification for the new law, but the turnaround soon fell flat. It seemed that there was a costly flipside to the restrictions that they had not anticipated. The public's determination had been channelled into raising their one remaining pokémon, meaning its level and power increased at an alarming rate, and with it, the chance for that power to be misused.
Of course, this was only a small part of the problem. The restrictions had inspired rebellion and hate throughout the city. He believed the people of Celadon still hadn't forgiven the council. While some might have understood the reasons behind the restrictions, everyone felt the wound that had been slashed in the community and the great scar it left behind.
And it was all for nothing.
Tommy's voice spoke inside his mind, as clear as it had been the previous night. It's getting worse.
Professor Ercus was determined to discover exactly what the council planned to do about it.
The government quarters had a modern feel. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling and were double-paned. Most of the furniture was made entirely of glass, save for the armoured doors. He knew the area well enough, though he rarely ventured into the office complexes. He was permitted exclusive access into Annex Hall and only when meetings were scheduled.
Entering a final corridor, he shot a furtive glance at a security camera overhead, confident that he was not being monitored. In fact, he had not run into a single person since he left the reception area. He could still hear a faint rumble of many voices coming from the park and once again thanked the ceremony for lending him the perfect distraction.
He stopped before an armoured door at the end of the passage and checked through the tiny window at eye level. The office was vacant. He injected the master key into the lock and twisted. The door clicked open. He pocketed the key and stepped inside.
The entire far wall of the office was made of tempered glass, presenting a dark view of the adjacent forest. The closeness of the trees restricted the amount of light that passed through, creating an illusion that it was a later time of day.
A bulky desk with a glass top stood alone in the centre of the room. A gold nameplate beside the computer told him he had found the right office.
Councillor Tenneth was possibly the most influential aldermen on the board of governors and representative of the Southern Ward. If any office was most likely to contain the answers he craved, besides the Mayor's chamber, it was this one.
But the desk was frustratingly bare. He took a seat and scanned around the monitor. Nothing. He pulled open desk drawers, hoping to find a bounty of papers to root through. Each draw slid out too easily. Empty. He checked the computer tower for forgotten flash drives, but again, his search was fruitless. How could somebody so important have an office that was completely devoid of documentation?
He eyed the computer again, biting his lip. There was no way he would be able to turn it on without triggering some kind of security precaution, and naturally it would be password-protected.
A low, frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. He stood up in one fluid motion, the adrenaline racing through his veins affording him the energy of someone half his age.
The moment he reached his full height, his eyes found the small window on the door. What he saw through it chilled the blood in his veins.
Councillor Tenneth was walking towards his office.
He ducked behind the desk, frantically scouting for an escape route. His eyes barely registered a tiny door to his right before he was scuttling forward and wrenching it open. Thankfully the cupboard was just as empty as the desk drawers. He twisted his body to the side and jammed himself into the small space, clipping his head on the low ceiling. Once inside he scrambled for the handle, but his fingers scraped against bare wood. The only option he had was to hook his fingers under the door and try to pull it shut, but the gap was too narrow. He couldn't gain enough purchase to pull it home.
That was when he heard a distinct click and the sound of a heavy door swinging open.
Professor Ercus held on to the cupboard door for all he was worth. It was still slightly ajar, revealing a slither of the office beyond. His fingers were trembling under the strain but he knew losing his grip would mean the door would crack open further and expose him.
Councillor Tenneth came into view as he moved behind his desk and paused, becoming unnaturally still. His silver hair was braided behind his back and he wore a formal robe over his clothes despite the scorching weather. For a moment, Professor Ercus couldn't work out why the councillor was just standing there, but then a sickening realisation hit him and his eyes widened in shock. He had forgotten to move the chair back.
After what seemed like an impossibly long time, the councillor readjusted the chair, sat down and then fired up his computer. Professor Ercus watched him intently, trying to steady his laboured breathing and convince himself that the bare cupboard wasn't amplifying every sound he made. His fingers were already numb and the pain from knocking his head was finally starting to register.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" the councillor exclaimed, his voice cracking through the office like a whip.
Professor Ercus gasped, but remained put, his eyes riveted on the councillor. He was still sat at his desk, his cold eyes locked onto the computer monitor.
Satisfied he hadn't been discovered, the professor allowed himself to take gentle breaths as he listened to the video call.
"You were given precise instructions," the councillor said between clenched teeth. "Location. Time. Price. I couldn't have made the agreement any clearer, so do tell me why you failed to adhere to it."
"I-I passed on your instructions word for word," came a nasal reply, a male voice the professor didn't recognise. "And I counted the money m-myself. It was all there!"
"Your courier tried to haggle with me," Tenneth spat out each word as if he had a nasty taste in his mouth. "My time is too precious to waste. Lucky for him, we were interrupted, otherwise I doubt he would have made it back to you. Do you know what that idiot could have cost me? Do you know just how incriminating my association with your lot would look?"
"I-I-" the man stuttered, floundering for redemption. "I'll bring you the money myself."
"Yes, you will," the councillor agreed. "You'll come to my office right now while everyone is focused on the ceremony. I must attend, obviously, and it would be better if I didn't have this with me."
He pulled something out of his pocket and stowed it inside a desk drawer. The professor heard the object roll and then thud against the back of the desk.
"I'm sending you directions to my office," Tenneth continued in a patronising tone. "I trust you to arrive immediately with the full amount, make the exchange and then hurry far away from here. Do not force me to inform your boss of the incompetence of his staff."
"Yes, sir," the man replied. "You got it."
The professor's fingers were now drenched with sweat. He could feel his grip on the cupboard door starting to give.
Thankfully, the councillor had already shut down his computer and was getting to his feet. The professor caught one last glimpse of his calculating eyes before he moved out of view. After a slight pause he heard another metallic click, and then the door opening and closing.
He released his grip, allowing the cupboard door to creak open. Gingerly, he clambered out and got to his feet, rubbing his hands together to get the circulation back to his fingers.
Whilst using his sleeve to mop the sweat from his forehead, he glanced through the little window on the door and caught a flicker of robes as Tenneth rounded a corner.
His neck ached and his head was still throbbing, but none of it compared to the sharp stab of anger he felt towards himself. That's what hurt him most. He had just come dangerously close to losing everything and it would have been for nothing. He didn't find anything.
Then it hit him, a warmth of consolation that overrode his anger. He did find something. The professor rushed over to the desk and pulled the top drawer open. Something red and white rolled into sight and then came to a stop, causing him to gasp. It was a pokéball. But not just any pokéball. The professor lifted it out and studied the markings on its red top.
'E010'
He was one of few people who knew what those markings meant. The pokémon inside was on the endangered species list. Whichever one it was, there weren't many of them left in the region of Kanto.
His mind was racing, turning over the implications of everything he had just learned. It didn't take him long to draw a final conclusion. There was still a lot he didn't understand and he had many questions left to be answered, but his mind had settled on the only two facts that mattered at that moment. First, Councillor Tenneth, a well-respected figure of authority and leader of the Southern Ward, had broken the law by possessing multiple pokémon. Second, there was only one way Tenneth could have possibly obtained it: He had stolen it from a laboratory within the university.
He didn't need to think it over. He didn't need to take a moment to consider his actions and the possible repercussions of them. It was his duty as a pokémon professor to save a dying species from whatever fate that was about to befall it.
Professor Ercus stored the pokéball in an inside pocket, closed the drawer and then hastened to leave the office. But just as he withdrew the master key, he hesitated, once again biting his lip as the makings of another reckless plan began to piece itself together in his mind.
He had saved the endangered pokémon, but that wasn't enough. Councillor Tenneth would get away with his crimes . . . unless he did something.
The more he allowed his plan to formulate, the more confident he became. He checked his watch. The ceremony was due to start in half an hour. He prayed the man would arrive with the money before then.
He'd be waiting.