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Almia
If you focus your awareness only upon your own rightness, then you invite the forces of opposition to overwhelm you.
-the Screen of the Magi, collection
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"I don't see why this guy needs me to deliver a newspaper, Pachirisu," Kate said, walking southward from Vientown. "But he's got a Battonage Slider! They only give those to the best of the best, you know. It might be good to take it apart..."
On the southern route, Kate saw a couple, one plump woman and one thin man, approach. They were chattering about trivial ephemera, but what irritated Kate more was the presence of Poke Balls on a belt about their girdles. They were foreigners, with evil capture devices made by immoral men in far-off lands. To capture a Pokemon and take advantage of the bonding/imprisonment characteristic of their psyche was firmly wrong.
"Ma'am, sir," Kate said, moving in front of the two, not close enough to cause alarm, but near enough to ensure that they would not pass her by. "I see that you have Poke Balls. If you are heading to Vientown, know that you'll have to let your Pokemon out to roam, or the people will turn you away."
"Why?" the woman said. "Poke Balls are welcomed everywhere. Are you a Ranger? What is this?"
"Let your Pokemon out to roam, and you'll find that Poke Balls might not be as necessary as you think," Kate pleaded, trying to play a philosophical card. "Are you Rorian?"
"No, but we like what this Tercano is saying about machines. I think they're dangerous enough without a pervasive AI network!"
"Poke Balls are machines. If you always use them, you become dependent on the machines, and turn over your thinking and abilities to a device. People do this and think that it will free their people, but it will only allow other men with those machines to enslave them. Try going without Poke Balls for a bit, especially in Almia."
The man smiled, and kept on walking. "We'll follow your advice, young lady. You've given us a lot to think about. But don't think that we'll stop using useful machines like Poke Balls."
...
All these people have double standards about machines! Kate thought. They all don't like AI, but many of them say that this little piece of technology could never hurt anyone, or that convenient appliance should be allowed, or this particular device is an exception. It's too inconsistent. They condone Poke Balls, but they don't like computers? Pah! Best to do away with the whole twisted ideology.
Down near the treeline that kept the blight back from the fertile regions, Kellyn's house stood. It was boxy, but the edges showed signs of modification and custom fitting for something on the interior. Kate came to the door, and knocked. "Recruit Kate reporting from Vientown Base! I've come here with a copy of the Almia Times!"
Pachirisu touched the door with a paw, and found that it was unlocked. Inside was a chamber filled with a menagerie of bookshelves, filmpaper, storage crates, display stands, and other assorted regalia to commemorate the Ranger Union's achievements. Kate stepped in, abandoning prudence, and picked up a broken Capture Styler. Useless.
"Why would he be collecting this stuff, Pachirisu?"
The Pokemon sniffed, and then attuned its senses with the peculiar single-mindedness befitting a Pokemon. It climbed up to a window, and then pointed south to the treeline.
A red glow could be glimpsed, flickering, and with dark tendrils of oily smoke rising from the orange luminosity of the light's core. It was a forest fire, caused by some alien chemical reaction in the wasteland. The properties of the magical weapon that had devastated Almia were not wholly known, and strange and unpleasant new discoveries were found occasionally. Hence, the roaring conflagration that now burned through Vien Forest.
Kate left the house, knowing that she might be able to stop the blaze. Wild Pokemon from the forest fled to the surrounding plains as the fire grew. Although the flames would stop at the plains and die out, the protective forest barrier that separated Almia's habitable regions from the otherworldly wasteland would be damaged, allowing the blight to spread.
Years of progress might be reversed.
She looked at the wild Pokemon, grabbing her Capture Styler. There were Buizels among the fleeing Pokemon, and if she could control one, the fire could be stemmed. The Capture Slider manipulated certain things in a Pokemon's consciousness that created a temporary bond, although no human could comprehend what a state without a personal image vector or any other associated sensory captives would be like. Still, they were less cruel than Poke Balls.
Glancing at the burning forest, she found her attention focusing on a figure standing atop a boulder. Kate sensed his maleness, his movement, and the Capture Syler on his wrist. There was a Pachirisu on his shoulders, a paired entity with Kate's own companion.
Ah! Ranger Kellyn! But why does he not move? Why does he not control one of the Buizel?
"Girl," Kellyn said, his voice rising over the roar of consumed kindling. "You are wondering why I do not do the obvious thing. But the uninitiated try to conceive of the use of a Capture Styler as following a natural sequence of steps. I see fire, so I capture a Buizel to extinguish it. That is what others would do."
"But the power of the Capture Styler cannot be used from an attitude that prestates aims and purposes. Does a chip caught in a wave say where it is going? There can be no casual linkage of cause of effect in this type of battle. According to your intellect, I should use Water Gun or Aqua Jet. But that will not solve the problem. I must use Rain Dance, and that means I need to wait to find a Water-type Pokemon of greater power than these Buizel."
Kate saw a Blastoise in the fire, bearing the magic-fueled flames by hiding inside its shell. "Over there!"
Kellyn pulled back part of his Battonage Slider, causing a disc to rise out of the device, a drone no more than twelve centimeters wide. The drone lifted, seeking for the Blastoise, flying freely through smoke and ash. Arcs of spiraled plasma surrounded the Pokemon, imprinting it with Kellyn's bond-state.
"Now, do a Rain Dance!"
The heavens opened, and it seemed that the smoke turned into dark clouds which quenched the fire. The dark magic in the ground fought to keep the flames ignited, but the attack destroyed the blight and corruption.
"Arceus! Another flame-burst!" Kellyn said, releasing the Blastoise from his control by deactivating the Capture Styler's drone. "You look like a Ranger, girl. Shame that Almia had to get in the way of that magic attack all those years ago. Say, what are you doing here?"
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Unova
My concern is the use of human beings as weapons, not Pokemon. Here is a field that is still developing.
-Virnus Dialogues
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The older man stood peering out of the doorway, with eyes that were green with grey, and then a deep blue all flecked together in one iris. Bitter lines tortured his face, coming to a stop across his cheeks, just below his head of tea-verdant hair.
Virnus bowed, gave the greeting signal of the conspiracy.
From somewhere behind the man, within the house, came the sound of an instrument wailing through the atonal dissonance of a Kricketune's music. Combined with a certain new drug found in Unova, the music of a Kricketune could be used to induce a state of euphoric stupor. Virnus noticed that the man's manner carried no trace of drugged dullness, an indication that the music was the vice of another.
"Greetings from afar," Virnus said, smiling through a flat-featured face that he had chosen for this meeting. He cast nervous glances up and down the street. Would the old man never invite him inside?
"Did you know my Pokemon?" the old man asked.
At least that was one of the countersigns. Virnus made the proper response, all the while keeping his eyes on his surroundings. He did not like his position here. The house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, one that exposed him far too much. "I come not in partnership."
"Alone?" The old man cleared his throat, and hesitated again. Virnus cautioned himself to patience. Was it something else besides the skin-changer that bothered the man? Somewhere around here, Laslo, another conspirator, was playing out his part as a catalyst for the decisions of the Cenvus clone.
Virnus returned his gaze to the man. "My name is Vaal," he said, using the title assigned to him for this part of the conspiracy. "Might I be accepted into your home?"
"I am Natural Harmonia Gropius," the old man said, "once King of Team Plasma. Does this mean anything to you?"
Virnus read the menace in the words. "You were raised by Ghetsis, under the allegiance to the doctrine of Pokemon liberation."
N relaxed, stepped aside. "You are welcome in my house."
...
Virnus slipped past him and into the house's shadowy living room, full of sleeping Pokemon. The door grated into a locked position as N closed it behind him. "This is a noble house, with noble Pokemon within it. We are not of the cast-out, as many are. We had a proper time back then. They sleep through this part of the day."
"Not a proper time now," Virnus agreed. So, that was what had brought N into the conspiracy. He longed for the old days and the old ways.
They sat down in an open courtyard, and Virnus realized that N was struggling with an intense dislike for his visitor. Does he sense my true nature?
The Kricketune stopped playing as they entered. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Virnus saw a youth sitting cross-legged on a mat beside a wall that led to the street. The youth's eyes were empty sockets. With that uncanny faculty of the blind, the Kricketune began to play again on its arms as Virnus focused on the boy, and he began to sing, high and sweet.
...
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood, in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
...
"Does my son's music disturb you?" N said. Virnus shrugged. "I enjoy music."
"My son lost his eyes in the same disaster that wasted most of Almia," N said. "He was nursed there, and sometimes I think he should have stayed. Have you ever been to Almia, Vaal?"
"I and a fellow troupe of Ditto toured there once."
"You are a Ditto skin-changer, then," N said. "I had wondered about your features. I can hear the voices of Pokemon, and I felt something come from you, more than another man, but less than a true Ditto. You are a product of evil science. Are you even truly a man, like you appear? I've heard stories about skin-changers..."
"We are hermaphrodites, either sex at will," Virnus said. "For the present, I am a man. I must ask: how did your son lose his eyes?"
"The accursed weapon in Almia gouged them out. My son was too close. Cursed extra-universal madness! We should have never contacted other worlds through the Way-portals. I offered to buy artificial eyes, but there was a story going around that they enslave their users. My son told me that he is flesh, and the eyes are metal, and such a union must be sinful."
"The principle of an object must fit its original intent," Virnus said. "Now, you know what I come here for. Do you know the exact location of Domitus Cenvus's private stronghold?"
"You intend to murder him and replace him with a clone," N said, speaking in a learned type of sign language used for the conspiracy. "This will allow you to have total control over the opposing political platform running against Bronze Tercano. Soon, the man will be encircled on all fronts. This is a good thing."
"Where is your wife?" Virnus asked, giving another hand signal that showed he was satisfied for now.
"Ah, two I have had since the defeat of the Eclipse Alliance," N said. "One plain and dear, the other stupid and obstinate, but with the body and face of an angel. I had many Pokemon in my house, more than now. I was rich but did not know it. I had been freed of Team Plasma and could do good."
The youth across the courtyard picked up the beat of the Kricketune's melody.
"I was a free man, a master of the voices of Pokemon, the Hero of Ideals. I thought I knew so much. I knew that Pokemon were inherently morally neutral, while men were wicked. I knew that my ancestors in Unova sacrificed virgins to Archeops until the Association made them stop, hundreds of years ago. I knew of the jewels of lightning that crowned the head of Zekrom." He fell silent, musing.
"And then Bronze Tercano came, with his promises," Virnus said.
"Yes, Tercano came," N said. "The one who I saw fighting in the Battle of the Demon's Tomb; the Pokedex Holder that I conversed with. He says that we must destroy machines and make the mind of humans great again. He says that the body is the greatest invention, and that everything he does is to maximize human potential. I did not understand this at first, but the Rorians believe him. I see that they are trained to believe, not to think."
N hung his head. "I thought that he would become a politician, a great one at that. And he did. But stranger things began to happen over the years. People, mostly Rorians, but others as well, spoke of wizardry, of the power of this 'Grand Bashar,' the 'One Who Leads The Way.' They said he fought our enemy, the Evil Djinn, the Eclipse Alliance, and now the machines. Arceus had blessed him and made him his prophet. I had never heard Bronze speak these things aloud."
The Kricketune stuck a final cord, and took up a new song with an oddly undulating rhythm.
"But this isn't why you're helping us?" Virnus said. "You don't care about heresy."
"No," N said. "Tercano can break all the machines he wants, but he will let Pokemon alone. And then I realized something about him that even his closest friends do not know: he can read the voices of Pokemon, but does not listen to them. Hear me, Vaal: Bronze Tercano has no love for Pokemon. He thinks of them as tools. I can not, will not excuse this and let him come to power. Civilization will become based on the human mind while shunning the talents of Pokemon. Bronze Tercano must die. That is why I joined the conspiracy."
The music stopped, and Virnus felt something pull inside his skull. He adjusted the cell tissue in his adrenal cortex, and found that the Kricketune had sent him a condensed and transmitted message, contained in the music. His Pokemon brain absorbed the wavelengths, something that no man could ever do. He was a vessel sloshing with data: every iota and detail on the stronghold of Domitus Cenvus his to learn. Vital information.
"Do you have it?" N said, seeing how Virnus had paused. "I thought I would have to tell you everything my own Pokemon told me. My spies across the world have given this to me, and now I give it to the conspiracy. I was lucky that you could hear it in the music."
"Good." Virnus looked around. "Who else is in this house?"
"We are all here now," N said. "Why would you ask that?"
As though about to answer, Virnus extended his right arm. From the sleeve of his robe, a glistening needle darted, embedding itself in N's neck. There was no outcry, no change in posture. N would be dead in a minute, but he sat unmoving, frozen by the dart's poison.
Slowly, Virnus climbed to his feet, and walked over to the blind musician. The youth was still murmuring the words of a song when the dart whipped into him.
A Zorua opened an eye where it had been lying, and saw Virnus's back. It squeaked. Before turning, Virnus assumed the form of N, and then strode over the Pokemon, stroking it with both hands. "My son is very tired and must rest. We had such a nice talk. Go back to sleep, little one."
His voice, he noted with pride, matched his features exactly. It was unmistakebly the voice of N, who was almost certainly dead by this time. Virnus sighed as he grasped the Kricketune's arm, about to erase its memory. He could never kill a Pokemon...at least not directly. The disposal had been carried out with sympathy, and the victims should have known their peril.
Now, this Pokemon would have to be given its chance.
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Oil Field Hideout
Empires do not suffer emptiness of purpose at the time of their creation. It is when they have become established that aims are lost and replaced by vague ritual.
-the Sayings of Bronze Tercano, by Orbo of the Priesthood
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Today is a good day to conduct a conspiracy, Ice thought. And not one, but two.
The leader of the Trio of Hell looked up at the ceiling of water, many meters above him. It glittered with an eerie light, reminding Ice that a malfunction in the hydrostatic suspension field network would cause the entire facility to be destroyed by the encroaching sea. It was Team Dim Sum's Sword of Damocles, and also a very effective way to hide one of their outposts.
His thoughts turned from nuances of the location to persons. There was Heath, the blindly loyal fool that spoke an obscure dialect of Galarian, but could hardly form a single sentence in Neo Kantoian. Seductive Lavana was also beside him, a hypochondriac and an agent highly trained in the art of spycraft and sexual imprinting. Part of her role in the conspiracy was to subconsciously manipulate men who had been subject to an intense sexual experience, bringing them under the control of Team Dim Sum.
And then Kincaid had to be considered. The man's loyalty to Blake Hall was conditional at best, and Ice fully expected their small contingent to break off and do their own bidding. But before that could happen, Bronze Tercano had to be killed, and the approaching Jihad averted.
Ice knew that Tercano could likely be easily eliminated by a variety of methods, but if he was killed outright, the entire purpose of the conspiracy would fail. The Rorian legions would rise up in anger and destroy everything in their path, with the blessing of the Grand Bashar on their lips. Nothing would be averted. Bronze would have to die in the shadows, so that others could live in the sun.
Kincaid was waiting inside the hideout factory, surrounded by the stench of electrical components and oil. Miniremo units were packaged by grunts once completed, and then stored away for the coming campaign against the Association. Although the Association would have many Pokemon, their own creatures would turn upon them in the case of an attack.
"Will we soon move forward with the conspiracy, sir?" Ice asked, activating a nowave shield that blocked his voice from surrounding ears. "Or will we wait another week or so?"
"Not nearly so long," Kincaid answered. "It is a good thing that Blake cannot hear us. Once Tercano falls, we will pursue our own goals in the new order of things, free from external controls. But it must be after the Grand Bashar is dead."
"I can't decide if I would rather smash Blake's head or Tercano's," Heath said, the brutal bully clomping forward toward Kincaid. "I thought that joining Blake's or-gan-ee-za-ton would allow me to break more things, but all he cares about is his money."
"We must cover our tracks twice for each move we make," Ice said. "We must do Blake's bidding to carry out the plan to capture Darkrai and avert Tercano's attention, when the time is right."
"Do you think that Blake has grown complacent, Kincaid?" Lavana said. "Does he not suspect that you and we are going to betray him?"
"I have not noticed such weaknesses," Kincaid snapped. "And I keep careful track of such things. The only reason we conspire now is that Blake is occupied with the assassination plot."
"There are always weaknesses," Heath said. "If you've got enough muscle to exploit them."
"When are we to unleash the dark aura in the tower, sir?" Ice asked. "We could do it at any time we pleased. Darkrai would be an asset in our scheme, and against the Association."
"Soon, but not now," Kincaid said. "We are also acting under the cover of the assassination conspiracy because we need Tercano dead and not martyred. We are taking care of that. Orbo of the Priesthood will control public perception of the actual death. Irvin is to hem our opposition in Almia by manipulating Chronos, his own creation. Laslo is feeding the clone the necessary information as we speak. Virnus should have obtained the information on Cenvus's bunker from N by now. Everything goes as planned. We cannot capture Darkrai yet. Only at the end of the conspiracy will it have much effect."
"I don't see why we need to do such a complicated de-mystification of Tercano before killing him," Lavana said, licking her lips. "I could imprint him by...the usual methods, and then destroy his credibility. He'll be an unfaithful husband."
"No, that won't work," Kincaid grumbled. "I doubt Tercano will ever let you close to him. He is that sort of man with those particular beliefs. In the case of you managing to trick him, which would be an unlikely scenario, he will successfully resist your advances due to his psychological pre-conditioning against imprinting, even if his 'defense' system is purely subconscious."
"So he must be destroyed slowly," Ice said. "His family and empire will crumble around him from our machinations. Still, I am rather bored with all this sitting around. Requesting permission to attack an Association convoy?"
"Permission granted. Keep up the good work, friends. Soon, you will bow to no one, not even me if you choose otherwise. But after we defeat Bronze Tercano."