Chapter Ten: The Johto Order

Cecille Freys had delivered a bureaucratic masterstroke: he had called in a Johto Order. Most civil servants- most lawmakers- most everyone wouldn't know what that was. But Cecille did. And Cecille knew it was still legally enforceable.

The authority for a government agent to instigate a Johto Order had been ratified as part of Hoenn's terms of surrender. Named in faux-memoriam for the province that had suffered most, and framed as a check against further devastation, the Johto Order was, on paper, an act of environmental protection.

Its opening statement read: If the environmental conditions within any sovereign boundary become so baron or hazardous, where they were not before, that the immediate survival of the general population is deemed at risk, the government hereby authorises later stated individuals to proclaim and enforce a Johto Order. Any citizen recognised by the federal government as a community leader, appointed official, or agent under special circumstances, contains and concludes those individuals previously stated as authorised. Once proclaimed, the Johto Order authorises the individual to disband all local businesses, all government and military action, and all laws not strictly defined as a 'personal liberty.' The authorised individual is required to order an evacuation of the general populace, and is authorised to put in place whatever temporary legal restrictions required to enforce this. The authorised individual is also required to inform the Federal Commision for Public Health.

And so on.

It's easy to see the first issue with the Johto Order: it's completely insane.

During an environmental crisis, any official can simply raise their hand and wipe away nearly all government authority. What if more than one official decides to do it? And how is a single community leader supposed to convince a local military garrison to disband? And when you evacuate the general populace, what do you do with the ones who refuse; what do you do with the ones who can't; how do you even conceive of an evacuation without a detailed logistical plan?

The Johto Order was part of Hoenn's terms of surrender. The actual legislation inside the order was part of Hoenn's humiliation.

But because the world was crazier than fiction, calling in a Johto Order was not unprecedented.

A couple of generals trying to cover up their incompetent atrocities, the manager of a power plant that went full meltdown, a governor who burnt down a forest on her birthday - these and a few more unworthy of note.

Aside from the MOSO agent who dumped so many bodies in a river it poisoned a whole city's water supply.

Each time it went the same way: they called in a Johto Order, they ran away, and the Federal Commision for Public Health might as well have not existed.

That was the second issue with the Johto Order: The FCPH were a tiny, underfunded, toothless agency staffed by barely qualified, generally uninterested, rarely trained, stressed-out, overstretched, underpaid data-analysts with no interpersonal skills.

And just like the first issue, it was that way by design.

Really, it was an unspoken rule; you didn't call in a Johto Order. It was more hassle than it was worth. Someone would have to clean up the mess. The FCPH wouldn't. And though it cleared you of any legal responsibility regarding the environmental disaster left in your wake… your career was over.

Then again, that was if you even knew what a Johto Order was.

Cecille did.

He also knew his career didn't matter anymore…

Not if they caught that Alakazam.

So, Cleo set the fields on fire, Taylor overloaded the factory machines, and Lamia infested the residential areas with poisonous spores - while Cecille called in the Johto Order, and led Noxos into the courtyard.

So far Cecille had managed to control the creature with his words. Noxos seemed to respond to authority - or at least Cecille's authority - with a near childish deferment. The Meowth somehow managed to make the Muk act submissive, uncertain, and quietly ashamed.

Still, the sheer horror of the creature shook Cecille. He did everything he could to mask his fear with disgust, but a discerning eye would have seen the truth. And who could have blamed him?

A dark mass of viscous run-off, sewage and deadly poisons, desperately attempting to imitate life, cling to itself and maintain consciousness - a monster, obviously in pain, formed from waste, able only to corrupt. A cesspool cursed with sentience. A Muk.

Only an idiot would not be afraid.

Still, Cecille had a job to do.

"Shall we try this again?" The fire in the fields began to glow in the distance. Something exploded inside the factory. "Your name is Noxos, correct?"

The Muk shifted uneasily. "Correct."

"You say you are the best tracker in Kanto."

"I am."

"And that you can speak to trees."

"I can."

"And that you absorb the memories of those you kill."

"I do."

Cecille smirked, still incredulous. "Then I have three questions for you." The Meowth straightened his tie as another explosion came from the factory. Screams echoed further afield. "Can you track something with the ability to teleport? Do the trees speak to each other? And, have you absorbed any memories that would help you kill an Alakazam?"

Noxos bubbled and strained, ropes of thick ooze pulling apart and collapsing. "Alakazam? They are not here? They were not here."

Cecille coughed. "No."

"Then this is not tracking. If you do not know where they fled from… if you do not have a point of origin… This is hunting. Finding. Not following."

"Can you still do it?"

The Muk twisted in thought. "Yes. If they are close."

Cecille smiled. "They should be close."

Noxos smiled in return - as much as sludge could smile. "Then I should be able to catch them."

"And the trees?"

Noxos rippled curiously. "Why are you eager to believe me now, Cecille Freys?"

The Muk's change in tone unsettled Cecille, making him snap. "Why are you so eager to do what I tell you?"

Noxos shrank back a little; Cecille had spoken with total confidence, not asking a question born from ignorance, but rather from pride.

"I feel what things are lesser and what things are greater than I…" Its eyes dimmed and twitched. "The least of a ruling body is still ruler… and is still least."

Cecille felt a twinge of sympathy for the monster; it was more self aware than he had given it credit for. "None of us will be least if we pull this off." He stepped closer, lighting a cigarette. "We need to find this Alakazam - the last Alakazam - so that we can capture or kill it. If- When we do, they will make us heroes."

"You." replied Noxos, not leaving time for even a breath.

"What?"

Cecille adjusted his tie and smirked - curiouser and curiouser.

"They will make you a hero."

The Meowth scoffed playfully. "I won't take all the credit; they wouldn't believe I could pull this off alone, anyway."

Noxos choked through a congested laugh. "Oh no, I see that you have friends. The fields do not burn themselves. The machines do not commit suicide. The air does not manifest infectious life. You and your allies lay waste to your own charge, and why? So you can claim it was beyond saving? Perhaps the populace did not take so kindly to your rule. Perhaps the Gnarls returned. Regardless… You free yourself, Cecille Freys… and you go in pursuit of this… Alakazam?" Noxoz murmured with bubbling despair. "Still, succeed or fail… they will not consider me your ally, Cecille Freys. I know why I have no titles, no papers, no friends. At least under Morganna Gnarl I did not fear for my continued existence. I see you seeing me, Cecille Freys; you are not the first government official to request my assistance, and detest my very being. So I request of you something my own."

Cecille shifted uneasily. "What?"

"When this is done, you let me go. And you tell your masters I am dead."

The Mewoth thought it over for a moment. But only a moment. "Done."

The abomination did what it could to nod and grin. "Good. Then we have an accord, Cecille Freys, senior executive taxation officer."

Cecille's instinct was to offer Noxos his hand to shake, but he thought better of it. "So the trees?"

"Let me worry about the trees. What you must concern yourself with is what's to be done once the quarry is found. I have heard the name Alakazam before… never details… but I understand that their capture will be no simple nor safe matter."

"There is a military base not far from here; Cleo believes there will be weapons there that can give us the edge. Taylor will go with you; he won't slow you down. Me and Taylor will be in contact. Once you're close, or have found them, we will meet with you. Then we take them down together." Cecille did all he could to sound confident of his plan. Still, a little uncertainty slipped through.

Noxos strained with liquid concern. "There is much to this plan that could go wrong."

Cecille adjusted his tie one last time, fanning the fire in his belly.

"I am willing to risk my life for my freedom. Are you?"

The Muk gave a gurgling laugh, its eldritch eyes twinkling. "You surprise me, Cecille Freys. I will go willingly into this battle."

"Would you have gone unwillingly?"

"Most that I am exists unwillingly."

Cecille tried not to think too hard on that one.

"Before anything else - there's a Pinsir in the residential area. I need you to go kill them. It will make it look more like something went wrong here."

Noxos caught a bubble of joy in its throat. "Something has gone wrong everywhere. You need not excuse your orders to me. I am yours to command, Cecille Freys, in the name of freedom… as you put it."

Later, as the sun began to rise, and Cecille drove towards the military base outside of Pewter City, he wondered what he had become. It wasn't so much a moral question as a functional one. He tried to imagine the world before the war, and who he might have been if it had never happened. He thought of Noxos, and how self aware it was. Perhaps the creature was more self aware than Cecille; was he not also a monster, a slave to his masters and the system they served, and the one great master who had built it all?

He felt no remorse for ordering Herk's execution, or for calling in The Johto Order, not really. All he cared about was catching this Alakazam, escaping the relentless grind that had become his life, that had always been his life. Was there anyone he wouldn't step on to make that happen? Was there any discernible psychological feature that separated him from Noxos? Did not most of what he was exist unwillingly?

Perhaps we're all toxic, he thought.

"We're almost there," said Cleo, sitting on the passenger side. "Stop the car, we need to decide exactly how we're going to play this."

Cecille pulled up on the side of the road.

It was early morning, the night's cold turning into a thin haze across the land. The only other traffic they had seen was a few trucks long-halling stock cross-country. For now, everything was quiet outside the car.

Cecille turned the engine off and looked at Cleo. "Aren't you going to take the lead?" he asked.

"I could," she replied. "I could march in there, claim to be on a special mission, and hope no one calls my supervising officer to check. Depending on exactly who is stationed there at the moment, it might work. But I couldn't tell you who is currently in command, so it's a risk."

"Right…" said Cecille, staring back at the steering wheel and clutching. "I suppose I could claim I was there to audit… Though it would be difficult to claim that the MoF had sent you two with me, and even more difficult to claim I was authorised to remove weapons technology as part of the audit."

Cleo thought for a moment. "Couldn't you borrow them under the Federal Reclamation Act; claim you needed them to help secure The Gnarl Corn Company?"

Cecille sighed. "I could have, before we called in The Johto Order and torched the place. If I walk in there and demand the weapons under FRA, the commanding officer is going to offer me some of their soldiers as backup; when I refuse, it will look incredibly suspicious. They'll let me take the weapons, but they will definitely call my supervisor to inform them of what has happened. Cecille Freys just showed up and demanded some weapons but refused a security detail, seemed strange to me. My supervisor will attempt to contact Herk, who was supposed to be head of security for the reclamation, they won't pick up, and-"

"Did you really have to have them killed?" asked Cleo.

"They would have ratted us out in an instant."

The Growlith sighed.

A voice came from the back of the car, pulsing out of a thousand thousand particles. "We can get the weapons. Lamia will convince the commanding officer."

Cleo furrowed her brow. "How?"

"We will claim they are evidence in an investigation. It is illegal to discuss the details of an active investigation. It is illegal to hinder an agent of the Ministry of Social Order, even for military personnel."

"And what if they call your superiors?"

"Lamia will lie. The Ministry of Social Order does not take kindly to other government agencies interfering with their agent's work. Lamia's superiors will be inclined to believe us. We will claim we are investigating local military overreach regarding a recent Johto Order; it is suspicious the Gnarl Estate was made unlivable overnight with Pewter City Military Base so close by. In addition, it appears Officer D. G. Herk is dead, and Agent Cecille Freys has gone missing. We have requested a selection of weapons from the base in order to test them for forensic evidence, and will soon begin to take statements from personnel."

Cleo turned and gave Lamia a deep, contemplative stare. "Won't they wonder how you knew about all this so fast?"

The spores replied without hesitation. "Lamia is an old friend of Agent Cecille Freys. Cecille Freys contacted us and recruited Lamia under the Federal Reclamation Act. On arrival Lamia discovered the current situation and began investigating immediately."

Cleo smiled. Cecille smiled. They looked at each other and smiled a little harder. Slapping the steering wheel, Cecille said, "Damn it Lamia, you really are that fucking good."

"We are indeed, that fucking good."

It happened like magic, like more than magic, like the simple, everyday passing of unnoticed things necessary for life. They pulled up to the base, Lamia got out, spoke to the soldiers posted at the gate, was let through, and less than an hour later was escorted back by five privates carrying weapons. Lamia supervised them as they loaded the weapons into the boot. The soldiers bid her farewell, and walked back into the base. Lamia got back into the car and they drove away.

Cecille hooted.

"Were you able to get everything I listed?" asked Cleo.

"And more," replied Lamia.

Cecille laughed. "Yeah, that looked like more equipment than we'll be able to use."

"Always have more than you want instead of less than you need," said the spores. "In addition, it would have looked suspicious if we had only requested a handful of items."

"Do you think they will call your supervisor?"

"Whilst speaking to the commanding officer, we contacted our supervisor and put them on speaker. Lamia explained the broad-strokes; Taylor would describe it as controlling the narrative. Still, we are sure the military will soon investigate the Gnarl Estate themselves."

Cleo sighed nervously. "Cecille, you better be right about how much The High Chancellor wants this Alakazam. There's going to be a real shit show when what's actually been going on comes out."

Cecille smirked. "You mean that an Alakazam attacked the Gnarl Estate, kidnapped a federal agent and their deputies, but was overpowered when said agents received backup from the Ministry of Social Order?"

The car was filled with the sound of infection laughing. "You too, Cecille Freys, are that fucking good."

"Why thank you."

Cecille called Taylor. As soon as the Pikachu picked up, Cecille could hear panting breath, breaking twigs and heavy footfalls. "Hey buddy, how's it going? Just getting my steps in, you know how it is. Gotta stay lean."

"Are you close?"

Taylor panted. "You know, considering the circumstances, I think you should ask me the way you know I like to be asked."

"Are you serious, right now?"

"Are you sat down, right now?"

Cecille groaned. "What's the tale, Taylor Tales?"

The Pickahu cheered, another voice chastised him, Taylor apologised, and then replied - breathing heavily all the while. "Yeah, Noxos says we're close. Damn man, this thing can really move; I need to get back on my cardio. But we're close."

"Send me your GPS coordinates, and we will find you."

There were a loud succession of thuds and a few surprised inhales.

"Did you get the guns?"

"We got the guns."

"Did Lamia have to do it?"

"Lamia did it."

"She really is the MVP of this whole operation. You know, if she betrays us all in the end - takes all the credit, I won't even be mad."

Cecille rolled his eyes. "Just send me your coordinates and focus on not falling behind, or falling over."

"You got it, boss."

"Goodbye, Taylor."

"Love you, buddy."

"Goodbye, Taylor."

"Say it back!"

"I love you too, Taylor."

Cleo snickered.

"Lamia will not betray you," added the spores. "We also love you, and could not defeat Cleo in combat."

"It's important to know your limitations," replied Cleo proudly.

"This friendship group is profoundly toxic," said Cecille, pushing his foot down and accelerating.

Things had gone surprisingly well so far - as well as something this messy, illegal and entirely insane could go. All they had to do now was catch up to Taylor, check the weapons, pin down the Alakazam, and… Cecille tried not to think about the very last step. If he considered the actual act at the end of this road, he might lose his nerve.

One thought at a time. One decision at a time. One goal at a time.

The road stretched out before him, the morning sun growing in confidence. For better or for worse, his life was about to change forever. All he could do was hope that change would not be final.