Chapter 4

Though there had looked to be no reprive from the sun in the cards when Diantha had woken up that morning, faint grey clouds had rolled over the island. The heat still weighed heavily, but Diantha took off her sunglasses and hooked them into the v of her shirt. Alolan weather could change abruptly. Or so she'd been told by Dr. Stone when she'd commented on it.

They moved along a pathway that led to what looked like a large metal pen beside a small brick tower. People moved around, calling to each other and pointing at things seemingly at random. In front of her Steven talked animatedly to his uncle, to which Martin nodded along as though he understood a single word that was being exchanged between them. Without the sunglasses concealing her eyes she made the effort to keep her face from showing the utter disdain she was feeling. It was becoming something of a challenge.

"So what do you make of all this?" asked Cynthia. Diantha hadn't heard her come up beside her, but then it was hard to hear anything properly over the crashing and rustling coming from the enclosure they were approaching. She stood up a little straighter, still not even sure what she made of Cynthia, let alone this whole safari park business.

"I haven't decided yet," she said, electing to be honest. "I can certainly see the appeal."

Cynthia made a low humming sound and nodded in agreement. "It's beautiful."

"If you don't look too closely," said Diantha. Cynthia hummed again, and her grey eyes scanned the area, cold and calculating.

Before they could continue their conversation, not that she was sure where they'd have taken it after that, a high pitched, droning buzz cut through the racket coming from the pen. Diantha's eyebrows climbed higher up her forehead as she tracked the location of the sound. Three men led a Miltank by it's neck to a strange crane-like contraption while the creature mooed mournfully.

"I was thinking it was time for a spot of lunch," said Dr. Stone. Diantha tore her eyes away from the Miltank.

"What are they doing?" she asked, gesturing to the Pokemon, that had now been strapped into a harness and the crane and was being lifted from the ground.

"Oh that?" said Dr. Stone. A strange smile crossed his face. "Feeding them."

"Feeding what?"

"The Tyrunts."

The Miltank mooed again, though it didn't struggle against it's bonds as it was held over the pen. Docile and helpless. Nausea began to churn in Diantha's stomach. It had been years since she'd raised her own Tyrunt, and even though hers was vegetarian she remembered very distinctly how it ate. It wasn't pretty.

"Now if you could follow me to-" But nobody was listening.

Steven took off towards the cage, jumping up the steps two at a time, and bumped into the protective fence with enough force that he bounced back a little before pressing himself again against the metal bars. Cynthia followed him at a more sedate pace, but with her long legs she still closed the distance quickly. Her black coat fluttered behind her and suddenly Diantha saw the appeal of the ensemble, even if it was not weather appropriate. Reluctantly, she herself trailed behind, allowing her feet to drag as she did. If she moved slowly enough maybe she'd get lucky and miss dinnertime.

It turned out she needn't have worried. She edged past a man with what she hoped was a tranquiliser gun in his hand and looked down into the pen. The whole thing was covered entirely in emerald leaves and branches, and though she couldn't see past them, based on the sounds below she estimated it to be a good thirty foot drop. Very pointedly she didn't look at the Miltank as it was lowered down between the trees and into the darkness.

The jungle around them fell quiet and Diantha stood motionless, back ramrod straight. The line from the crane hung for a moment and then it jerked. There was a pause and Diantha held her breath.

Then the frenzy began.

The cable was yanked in random directions and the plants and foliage swayed and snapped from the frantic activity beneath. Growls and cries and the sound of wet crunches filled the air around them and, though she couldn't see anything, the mental images Diantha conjured up were grotesque and horrifying. She didn't dare move. Didn't blink.

Then it stopped. Beside her she could hear Steven's heavy breathing as he leaned as far over the barrier as he could to see below.

"Such interesting Pokemon," Dr. Stone commented.

Diantha let out a long, low breath and looked at the man with incredulity. Interesting. Around them she began to notice all the sounds of the jungle, that had felt strangely absent for the last minute, drift back. Had they stopped or had her laser focus blocked out everything around her? With her hand she reached up to her neck where her Key Stone hung and held it for a moment. It warmed beneath her fingers.

"Interesting is not the word I'd have chosen," said Diantha. She glanced at Cynthia; her lips were pressed into a thin line and it was difficult to tell what she was thinking.

"Can we get a closer look?" asked Steven. "From a safe distance of course. I didn't bring my running shoes."

"Sorry, my boy. We're still working on an effective viewing system," said Dr. Stone. He clapped a hand onto Steven's shoulder.

"Is there a reason you have them separated from the rest of the Pokemon in the park?" asked Diantha.

The jovial twinkle that had been present in Dr. Stone's eye since they'd arrived dimmed somewhat. "We've struggled to integrate the Tyrunts with the rest of the population so far."

"Why?"

"Because they're monsters," said a voice Diantha didn't recognise.

Dr. Stone clicked his tongue against his teeth and his twisted his face into faux-disappointed expression. "Now that's a little harsh." The man approaching them looked to be in his mid-forties and his light brown hair was speckled with grey. Though he wore the same khaki outfit as many of the surrounding staff, there was an air of authority around him that was missing in the other men and women around them. "Friends, this is Pokemon Ranger Peck." Martin, who Diantha had forgotten was even there with them, pushed past her to shake Peck's hand. "Our local prophet of doom," Stone continued, "but he's worked with the Pokemon here more than anyone."

"You believe the Tyrunt are more aggressive than the rest of the Pokemon in the park?" asked Steven.

Peck looked at Steven, face grim and serious. "Yes." His voice came out in a drawl. Based on his accent she'd guess he was from somewhere in the Galar region. Diantha had never been there herself, but recently a lot of her male co-stars had heralded from there. "I've worked around the world, but never with Pokemon quite like this before."

"You've raised a Tyrunt," said Cynthia quietly behind her. Diantha glanced back and realised she was talking to her.

"Yes," she agreed. Peck looked at her with interest. "It was a challenge," she admitted, "but I can't say I found him to be overly aggressive." She cast her mind back to those early days when she'd been gifted both Tyrunt and Amaura. She'd been young and arrogant and very quickly had felt in over her head. They'd worked through it in the end and both Pokemon had turned out to be loyal friends. "Selfish, perhaps. Unwilling to take direction for a while."

"This is much more that an unwillingness to avoid direction," said Peck. He leaned back against the fence and folded his arms. "They're violent little things. They should never have been allowed to exist in the first place."

Dr. Stone rolled his eyes. "All they need is a little bit of work and we'll have them ready for the park in no time at all, just as we have with the other Pokemon."

"You've had problems with the other Pokemon?" asked Cynthia.

"Just some teething problems," said Dr. Stone. He tapped his cane on the floor. "Perfectly natural with these sorts of things."

"Yes. Teething problems are exactly my issue with these beasts," said Peck. "Blood-lust and much too many teeth."

"They're a species out of time! They must be forgiven for some…preliminary confusion."

Peck turned his attention away from Dr. Stone and Diantha got the sense that this wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. "There have been incidents with the other species too."

"They've calmed down since," Stone reassured them in a way that wasn't even remotely reassuring.

"For now," said Peck. His gaze swept over the Tyrunt pen. "We started out with seven of them, you know. One evolved; we keep her elsewhere. The other three were killed in a pack war, if you can call it that. They tore each other apart."

Behind them, the crane whirred back to life. The cable began to move upwards and out of the Tyrunt enclosure and Diantha turned to look at it, her face twisted into a grimace. Nothing was left of the Miltank. Whether it had been pulled away or consumed completely she couldn't be sure. All that remained was a tattered, bloody harness.

Dr. Stone clapped his hands. "Now, who's hungry?"

As it turned out the answer to that question was nobody except for Dr. Stone himself. Even Martin looked a bit green as his eyes slid down the limited menu they'd been given. Diantha asked for a salad and passed her menu back to the waiter.

They'd been taken to yet another building for lunch. It was smaller than any of the others, yet somehow more opulent. It hadn't taken Diantha long to realise that this was Dr. Stone's personal offices. He had led them to an entirely impractical oval shaped room with a small round table in the middle. On the wall around them an elaborate map of the island had been painted. Both Steven and Cynthia had spent a long time studying it before either of them had sat down. Diantha wasn't sure what they were hoping to find on it, or even if they'd found it. Their hushed whispers suggested they had.

"Will you just pick something, Cynthia?" said Steven, as he handed his own menu to a waiter.

"I am picking!"

Steven looked at Diantha. Amusement was laced with irritation. "She always does this. Wallace refuses to go out to eat with her anymore unless she's chosen what she wants from the menu in advance." Cynthia's eyes narrowed. "How you get anything done is beyond me."

"And yet somehow I manage it," said Cynthia.

"Unless you have a difficult decision to make like what flavour of ice cream to get, then it takes an extra three hours."

"It does not."

Steven waited for Cynthia to look back at the menu before turning to Diantha and mouthing, "it does" at her. Honestly, Diantha wasn't sure who to believe. Current evidence suggested Steven.

At the other 'end' of the table Dr. Stone and Martin seemed to be in deep discussion. If Martin had been excited before, he was positively giddy by now. "None of the attractions are finished," Dr. Stone said, and Martin nodded along. "The park will open with the basic tour you're about to take, then we'll have more attractions installed over the next two years."

Attractions. Another word that didn't sit right with her. They were living creatures; not a commodity. Her train of thought was broken when the waiter returned with a set of glasses and a jug of water.

"That's very ambitious," said Steven. "Especially considering you haven't even integrated all the Pokemon into the park yet."

"I'm confident in our ability to make this happen, my boy. So is your father or he wouldn't have sent you here," said Dr. Stone.

"I can't help but wonder why you and Dad waited so long to bring me into this project in the first place," said Steven. He rested his elbows on the table and linked his fingers together. "As the only member of the family with experience in raising the kinds of Pokemon you have here, I'd have thought you'd want my opinion?" There was an edge to his voice that Diantha hadn't heard before.

"Raising the Pokemon, yes," said Stone, "but that isn't what we're doing here. Your father didn't want you to feel as though you had to devote all your time and energy into this. You already work so hard with the Pokemon League and your own expeditions."

"I see when I get home, my father and I need to have yet another discussion about him making decisions for me."

A controlling father. That was something Diantha could relate to. She'd spent years trying to escape the weight of her parents' expectations for her, and to this day she wasn't sure she'd quite managed it. She had, of course, moved into her own career path against their very strong wishes, but she still felt that constant desire to please them, even if it meant doing things she would never normally do just for their sake. Like coming to a mysterious island in the middle of nowhere because she'd been assured it would be a good business venture, for example.

"Well…that's between the two of you," said Stone, gesturing vaguely above his head. "Still, the point stands. This is a conservation area! You may have experience with some of these breeds of Pokemon, but this isn't where your expertise lies. Here is a place for these Pokemon to live in harmony together. Re-experience our world."

"A conservation area that you'll be charging an entry fee for," said Steven. He took a sip from his glass of water.

"How have the Pokemon responded to humans?" asked Cynthia. Perhaps steering the conversation away from the more personal turn it had taken when just Steven and his uncle were talking. In her hand she still grasped at the menu.

It was covered with a smile, but there was a definite hesitation before Dr. Stone answered. "Co-habitation hasn't been a problem between the Pokemon and our staff." Carefully worded, Diantha noted.

"A limited number of trained staff members aren't the same as the general population," said Steven.

Dr. Stone sighed. "I hardly think you're giving us our due credit. We've come a long way from the rather…primitive methods the Kanto region employed of encouraging their guests to throw rocks at Pokemon's faces."

"That's not a very high bar," said Cynthia.

There was an long pause and Dr. Stone looked around the table with a look of mute surprise, as though he were perhaps only just realising that his guests weren't as on board with his master plan as he'd been expecting. His eyes settled on Cynthia.

"I cannot believe that you of all people aren't excited about what we're doing here," he said.

"Excuse me?" Cynthia brushed some blonde hair away from her eye.

"You, who have devoted much of your life into studying old ruins. Learning of our past. Seeking out the legendary Palkia and Dialga, successfully I might add." Wait, what? Cynthia slapped her menu down on the table. "And here I have brought the past to you! Is this not our wildest dreams come true?"

"First of all," said Cynthia, "I wasn't looking for Dialga and Palkia; I was trying to stop the mad man who was. Secondly, that situation almost ended in a universe-cracking cosmic rewrite, so that's not the compelling argument you think it is. Thirdly, how do you even know about that? Those reports are classified."

"I have my sources," said Dr. Stone. Cynthia glanced over at Steven, who held up his hands and shook his head. Her temple flickered, as though she were clenching her jaw. Diantha wished her assistant was here to write down the list of questions she had.

"See, Dr. Stone, your problem here is that you found this ready made island covered in bones and leapt at the chance to break new ground. Do something nobody has ever done before. You realised you could do it, so you charged straight ahead and nowhere along the way did you ever stop to consider whether you should."

The silence that followed that statement was tense. Dr. Stone shook his head, mouth ajar as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, while Cynthia seemed to be making a point of maintaining eye contact with him. Martin tapped his fingers rapidly against the table, opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite figure out how to word it. Diantha understood the feeling; she herself wasn't quite sure what to say next. She sat up straighter and took a sip of her water purely for something to do with her hands. The glass, she noted, was etched with the park's Aerodactyl logo.

"Corsola!" said Dr. Stone suddenly. "In the Alola region Corsola are being hunted to the point of extinction. If I were to create a safe habitat for Corsola to live in we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"You're right. We wouldn't. I'm not sure what your point is."

"We're giving nature a second chance!"

"You've brought back a dead species to a century they're unfamiliar with. It's one thing to bring back individuals and slowly integrate them into the world via a laboratory or with a skilled trainer, and entirely another to recreate an extinct ecosystem and set boundaries they couldn't possibly understand. Not to mention the integration with humans. They've gone from being the world's apex predators to being mollycoddled in a gilded cage." Cynthia paused. "We have no way of knowing what to expect."