Thank you all for over 1.2K views! That's a pretty good number, I'd say!
Additionally, if you like Servant of the Pokémon, be sure to check out my new story, Avalanche Buddies. Yes, that's the actual title, and it made me laugh as I selected it. I think you'll enjoy that as much as you enjoy this one.
Current music: MoneyGrabber - Fitz and the Tantrums
It's astonishing how quickly one can become used to their new reality.
Yes, something shocking had happened. Whether it was beautiful, terrible, both, or neither would continuously be debated for possibly the rest of history. Hell, Ash could imagine his obituary reading something like this: It is still hotly debated whether Ash Ketchum was one of Kanto's greatest leaders, or one of the worst Presidents in its history.
Of course, that was hopefully a long way off. But if the mob had anything to say about it, Ash would have been murdered (no, assassinated) on just the second day of his term in office.
Ash had never thought he'd become President. Once he had been installed in this position, he'd never expected to adjust to the office so easily. But here he was, so he might as well make the best of it.
Quickly, the President settled into the routine expected of his office. By the end of the first week, it felt completely ordinary, as though he'd been doing this his whole life.
Ash would awaken at the beautiful hour of 6 AM. (He placed his virtual alarm clock far enough away from his bed that he couldn't shut it off from under the covers. That way, he wouldn't drift off again.) Truth be told, he didn't really need the alarm - on his journey, he'd often risen early, and old habits die hard. But it was better to be safe than sorry.
He would change out of his pajamas and head downstairs for breakfast. Sometimes, Serena would be there, and the couple would stare frostily at one another during the meal. Often, she was nowhere to be found, and Ash would just have to focus on his cornflakes as he pondered their relationship.
There was no question that it had deteriorated. It wasn't like they no longer talked; if anything, their communication was more frequent than it had been before. Ash knew he had to make it up to the First Lady; putting himself in his girlfriend's shoes on the day of Michael Banditt's hearing made him feel downright nauseous.
They still spoke to one another; they just spoke differently now. The days of hugging each other were over, at least for now. Most of their conversations devolved into shouting matches, staring contests, or both, given enough time.
On some level, Ash knew that this wasn't healthy. Surely one of them would have to end the relationship before things got too tense between them, or at least try a separation period. Some days, the only thing stopping Ash from doing so was the mental image of all the reporters at the door of the Presidential Palace, clamoring to know why he and Serena were no longer dating.
To make a long story short: There was enough media speculation about their personal life - why add to it?
Had the Capitol not been stormed the other day, Ash would have been whisked off there to view the confirmation hearings for his Cabinet. However, according to Leatherman, this was too great a security risk, even if another attack was unlikely for the foreseeable future.
"So I'm just supposed to stay here?" Ash snapped at Leatherman when he heard this information.
"Unfortunately, that is exactly what you're supposed to do. Until we build the wall around the Capitol, we're not going to let you anywhere near danger."
"I'll just be a caged Pyroar, then" Ash grumbled. Sadly, Leatherman did not contradict him.
Instead of heading to the Capitol, Ash would spend time talking to other world leaders on the phone. Even if these calls were heavily monitored, the Kantoese President didn't care too much - other countries' Presidents weren't going to ask him about Serena, and Ash certainly wasn't going to tell them.
Besides, most of these world leaders had nothing but praise for Ash. They congratulated him for either his quest years ago, his ascension to the highest office in his country, or (most commonly) both. There was, however, one exception.
On his fourth or fifth day in office, Ash had a scheduled phone call with Philip Pines, the President of Alola. The Kantoese President had been warned that his Alolan counterpart had an intense personality, and that a talk with him could wear you down in more ways than one. Nothing, however, could have prepared Ash for it.
"Hello?" Ash asked, trying to sound polite. Wasn't that the best way to open such an official conversation?
"Yes, this is Ash Ketchum, President of Kanto?" a rather bellicose tone half asked, half barked from the other end.
Ash cringed. The way his title had been alluded to by the Alolan President…well, let's just say that it felt like a tiny little shank to the heart. President Pines didn't seem to see Ash as his equal.
And why should he? He was elected; I wasn't.
"That is me," Ash muttered. "So what do you want to talk about?"
"You know," President Pines responded, "I'm not trying to discount how impressive it is to become leader of Kanto, especially at your age. How old are you again? Twenty-five?"
"Yep, I just turned twenty-five in June."
"That doesn't detract from your legitimacy. What might," Pines muttered, "is the fact that you weren't democratically elected. You didn't have to run against anyone for that office - it was delivered to you on a golden platter. So tell me, Mr. Ketchum, is that fair?"
"Is what fair?"
"Don't play dumb with me. I know you know it's not. In any democracy, you should need to compete in the marketplace of ideas, and you didn't do any of that. Although you had a single mother, I might well call you a trust-fund baby."
Ash flinched.
"So what are you going to do about that nickname, huh? Are you just going to roll over and take it?"
"What are you - ?"
"Look, Mr. Ketchum. You need to have thick skin for this job. You can't let a little quip get you down, because words are nothing compared to actions. You know that, right?"
"Of course…uh, what should I call you? President Pines?"
"It doesn't matter," Pines snapped. "I wish you the best of luck in your Presidential endeavors, because one thing's for sure: You'll need it."
The call ended shortly thereafter. Ash found himself wondering what Philip Pines' deal was, but perhaps it wasn't important. Regardless of how the Alolan President treated Ash, they'd still have to work together bilaterally on the most important issues facing the planet.
After a few of these phone calls each day, Ash would eat lunch in the dining room. Every day for the first week of his term, he was alone - perhaps Serena was knitting, watching TV, or playing with Pikachu. Whatever the case, the President knew he should leave her alone, so that's what he did.
Lunch was always objectively delicious. The Presidential Palace employed some of the finest chefs to be found in Kanto, and they whipped up dishes that could only be described as delectable. However, Ash found that he couldn't enjoy them - even the finest brisket felt like cardboard on his tongue, the sauce in which it soaked was the texture of glue. (He'd eaten glue once as a kid, not his brightest idea.)
During the afternoon, Ash was given his daily briefing from his National Security Advisor, that being Gary Oak.
Professor Oak, bless his heart, always did his best to make the information as accessible as possible to Ash. He emphasized that the President shouldn't feel stupid or ignorant just because this realm was unfamiliar. Everybody had to start somewhere, didn't they?
Still, as the professor spoke to Ash in a hushed voice, telling him everything he needed to know that afternoon, the President pinched himself in the leg. None of this felt real - he didn't belong here, and everyone knew it. Jeremy Almaty was right about that, and so was Philip Pines.
But he couldn't give up. He couldn't, because Kanto deserved a leader they trusted. He couldn't, because the ensuing scandal and chaos would make President Fiddlesticks and his predecessor jealous. He couldn't, because above all else, he'd fail the country by doing so.
"Do you understand what I have told you, Mr. President?" Professor Oak would ask Ash after every such session.
"Yes" Ash would invariably reply. Once or twice that first week, this was a lie, but he was afraid to admit that he didn't know how to react.
Professor Oak would then ask if Ash had any questions about his briefing, and again, Ash would assert that he understood completely. There were no questions that needed to be asked.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of Cabinet meetings, one of the few types of Presidential events which the media wasn't permitted to attend. Some information, it was explained to Ash, was meant to be accessible to the general public, whereas other information was highly classified, meant only for the eyes of a select few. And I'm one of them.
One takeaway, the most important one, was this: Even though Ash had ascended to the highest office in the land, there was still much to learn.
These Cabinet meetings consisted of the presiding official (usually one of the Cabinet members) reading over a set of notes, explaining a current event relevant to his or her department. Several of the department's employees, who were appointed by the Cabinet secretaries, also attended, clarifying details for Ash whenever it was needed.
It was during one of these meetings that the unexpected happened.
The boardroom was incredibly stuffy that day, a consequence of Kanto's humid summer heat. Specks of dust floated about as though the room had zero gravity (or, more appropriately, as though what gravity did exist was insufficient to exert pressure on the dust specks.) Either way, it was almost impossible to sit there without feeling the urge to sneeze.
Ash sat in the center of the rectangular table's longer side. He was flanked by his Secretary of State to the left, his National Security Advisor on the right. Both Banditt and Oak listened intently to the speaker, an expert from Kanto's Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).
"Could you repeat that, Dr. Bailis?" Ash enquired. It wasn't that he hadn't been paying attention; on the contrary, the President had been on the edge of his seat, desperately trying to hang on to whatever words might prove valuable later.
Rather, Ash had to make sure he'd heard correctly.
Dr. Bailis, a no-nonsense expert with a thick white mustache, nodded sternly. He gazed from his clipboard back to Professor Oak, his boss.
"According to this report, a mysterious illness has shown up in Oldale Town, Hoenn. As a result, several neighborhoods have been quarantined in order to prevent the spread of this disease. Testing is being developed as we speak, though it may take some time before the tests are widely available."
"That's not good," Professor Oak muttered, shaking his head side to side.
Ash wanted to reply "No shit!", but he didn't want to break decorum or otherwise sound unprofessional. Instead, he gritted his teeth and glowered at Dr. Bailis.
"Well, obviously this isn't an ideal scenario for us epidemiologists either" Dr. Bailis said, curling his mustache with his right index finger. "If testing is not widely available to the people of Oldale Town, we won't get a picture of how rapidly the virus has spread. Absent tests, the experts must utilize their only other option - lockdown."
"What is a lockdown?" the President asked, though he feared he knew the answer. "And how long does it last?"
Fortunately, Dr. Bailis didn't appear peeved that Ash hadn't known what a lockdown was. Rather, the doctor gave a small smile, as though he were pleased with the President for having the humility to admit it when he didn't know the answer.
"A lockdown is when the movement of people and Pokémon within a given area are restricted. All non-essential businesses have been shut down within a five-mile radius of the market square, where many exotic Pokémon were sold."
"That's not right!" Ash blurted out. "Pokémon are our friends, not our slaves!"
"Well, you're right, Ash," Professor Oak told the President. "I should know you see things that way - ever since I met you fifteen years ago, I knew you saw Pikachu as an equal. The same can't be said of everyone."
As the professor finished his monologue with a frown, Ash had a chance to reflect on how the roles had reversed in some ways, but had remained the same in others. When he was ten, Professor Oak had given Ash advice, and Ash and company had used that advice to take down the force threatening the world. It could be said that Ash had worked for the professor, or at least that he'd completed a job for Gary Oak.
Now, Ash was suddenly the professor's superior. Sooner or later (hopefully later), Ash was the one who'd be expected to possess all the answers. And the President wasn't yet convinced he was up to the task.
Dr. Bailis cleared his throat. "It's wrong from the perspective of treating Pokémon humanely, but it's also wrong for reasons relevant to my field. If exotic Pokémon come into contact with humans too frequently, and if stringent standards of hygiene are not met, there will be a spillover event before long. It's inevitable."
"A spillover event?"
At that question, all the attention in the boardroom shifted right to Ash. The President felt the glare of a dozen pairs of eyes, and even if they weren't judging him for being ignorant, it felt like they were.
"It's what we've been fearing for some time, Mr. President" Dr. Bailis clarified, still keeping a neutral to slightly nervous expression, but not an overly panicked one. "You see, most of these viruses will stay with these exotic Pokémon. Every so often, however, one of them will mutate to cross the species barrier and threaten humans."
"I see," Ash said, piecing everything together mentally. "So that's what has happened here?"
"As far as we have been able to determine," the doctor responded gravely, "that is the most likely scenario. Perhaps travel restrictions will help - maybe we should close our borders to travelers from Hoenn, stop all incoming flights."
"I dunno. That seems a little harsh."
Dr. Bailis raised an eyebrow at Ash. He had this way of making you feel guilty even if he didn't mean to project any anger. It just happened.
"Perhaps it is harsh, but is it as harsh as allowing this disease to spread unnecessarily? You don't want our hospitals to be overrun with a disease we have no idea how to treat, right?"
"No. I don't want that. And banning flights to and from Hoenn would help with that?"
"Just commercial flights, of course" Professor Oak jumped in. "We wouldn't stop delivering medical equipment to Hoenn - in fact, we'll have to in order for them to deal with their outbreak. But we shouldn't have any people going there if they don't have to, just so this disease doesn't reach our shores."
"Huh" Ash mouthed. That all sounded reasonable enough, but there was still a hole in the plan. Something neither Professor Oak nor Dr. Bailis had addressed, or even acknowledged. "I've got a question."
"Feel free, ask away" Dr. Bailis told Ash.
"Who stops the flights? I mean, who makes the decision to ground all the planes that would have gone from here to Hoenn?"
"You do!" basically the whole room shouted in unison, even those officials whose name Ash didn't know, causing the President to flinch.
"Sorry, I wasn't prepared for that."
Professor Oak stiffened. "Mr. President - ".
"Just call me Ash, please."
"Ash. You're commander in chief of Kanto's armed forces, both those that operate domestically and those deployed abroad. Of course it's your decision. We can advise you until the Tauros come home, but it's your decision. What are you going to do?"
"We're deciding this right now?" Ash wondered aloud. "I mean, I don't get to think it through before I sign the executive order or whatever?"
"I guess you don't have to decide right away," Dr. Bailis stated matter-of-factly, "but I'd caution you that now's the best time to stop the spread. Actually, yesterday was the best time, and that saying 'better late than never' doesn't apply here."
"Every day we delay our response could cost lives," Professor Oak told Ash. "We're talking about numbers on the order of hundreds or even thousands. When I put it to you that way, I think you'll see that shutting down Hoenn's economy is worth it."
"But it's not our decision to make, is it?" Ash responded. "Isn't it their decision to authorize a lockdown?"
"We're not talking about lockdowns here, Mr. President" Dr. Bailis explained. "They already locked down Metro Oldale. Weren't you listening?"
Ash felt a bit of sweat stream down his face. Here he was, in the room where all of it happened, and he was at a loss for words. It wasn't that he hadn't been paying attention; sometimes in moments like this, his brain just shut down, and he drew a total blank.
"Oh, my bad."
"Mr. President - ".
"It's Ash, Professor Oak. Weren't you listening?"
"Yes, I was listening," the professor replied with a humorless wink. "But you've got to be more present. This isn't middle school anymore, or even college. There's no cheating when you're in the Situation Room of the Presidential Palace - you just have to know things."
"I get that," Ash pouted.
"Before things get too heated," Dr. Bailis said, "let's move on from this subtopic. Mr. President, the previous holder of your office, Andreas Fiddlesticks, left behind a playbook. And no, it's not for Pokémon boccer - it's for the response to a potential pandemic."
"How convenient," Professor Oak muttered. "Say what you will about Fiddlesticks, he at least knew to hire the best people."
"Quite" Dr. Bailis affirmed. "Of course, just like many other things in life, you hope you never have to use it, but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."
Ash rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess I'll defer to the expertise of President Fiddlesticks. In his infinite wisdom, he gave us some of his guidance."
"Precisely" Dr. Bailis muttered. "Scientists in Hoenn and elsewhere have already started work on a vaccine, though it may take some time to get shots in arms if said vaccine is in fact needed. But there's still one choice that must be made, and you have to make it. Were you paying attention?"
"Yeah," Ash responded with a significant sigh. "I guess we'll stop all flights in and out of Hoenn's airports, at least on Kanto's flag carrier."
"All flights, Ash" Professor Oak told him. "You have authority over all flights in Kanto's airspace, both domestic and international. It seems you do not yet know your own power."
"Right. I guess we can stop the flights."
"Is that your executive order?" Dr. Bailis asked. "Because you have to sign an executive order to make it official. Otherwise those are just words."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll sign it" Ash said with what was close to a yawn. His eyelids almost felt heavy from the weight of what they'd been discussing, but it was part of the job, wasn't it?
Once Brock had been summoned from parts unknown to hand Ash the pen and paper, however, the President's right hand (his dominant hand) quaked.
"I can't do this," Ash mumbled.
Brock frowned. "Of course you can, Ash. Think of all the lives you might save at home and abroad!"
"No" the President repeated, which probably came off as if he was saying, "Fuck those lives, I don't wanna do it!"
Dr. Bailis curled his mustache downward. "You'll need to make far more difficult decisions than this, Mr. President. If you can't sign this document, how are you going to - ?"
"I'll sign it," Ash sighed. It was just that the pen felt like it weighed 200 pounds, and the President could barely sign his name in a legible manner. Good thing there weren't any cameras nearby, or the media would probably start speculating that he'd suffered a seizure.
"Then go ahead, sir," Brock advised Ash. "Or it'll only get worse for you, in more ways than one."
Gingerly, Ash guided the pen along the paper, using the strokes that would form the shape of his name. He'd already signed three or four of these executive orders, but he hadn't yet grown used to seeing the name Ash Ketchum on them. He might never.
"There" Ash mouthed. "It's signed. All flights to and from Hoenn that pass through Kantoese airspace are now grounded."
The President wasn't sure if he'd been expecting his Cabinet to clap or cheer. Rationally speaking, that would have made little sense, given the seriousness of the subject matter. Nor was he sure he'd hoped for that.
But Ash wasn't prepared for the gravity of Brock's stone-faced expression. Clearly, the President's best friend felt Ash had done what was warranted - nothing more, nothing less.
Quite frankly, that scared the hell out of the President. When Ash looked into his friend's eyes, gone was the Brock Takeshi who'd joined him and Pikachu while they played tag in the fields of Kanto. Gone was the Brock Takeshi who would laugh at any joke, even if it was crude (or perhaps especially if it was crude.)
That was not the Brock in the Situation Room that day. This Brock envisioned the hellscape the world could become if this disease was not contained, and took everything very seriously.
"Thank you" Professor Oak uttered simply. "It takes clear, decisive leadership in times like this, and you're providing it."
Nobody should be grateful for me. I'm just some schmuck who tumbled into the Presidential Palace, and now they're at the mercy of my inexperience.
In the President's mind, he'd totally bumbled through the meeting. He'd completely betrayed his lack of understanding, utterly failed to think on his feet, and generally made a fool of himself.
And it didn't matter that there were no cameras in the Situation Room. Sooner or later, he'd have to give a press conference on the threat, for the Kantoese people needed transparency from their leader. Barring a miracle (or at least a metric boatload of practice), Ash was likely to flounder again, but this time with a national audience.
Even worse, it seemed very likely that someone in that room had loose lips. Ash didn't want to think that any of the President's men (or women) would be capable of such a betrayal, but the information would find some way to escape.
And when that happened, all hell would break loose.