Chapter Seventeen: Government

Sage stuck to them. Terrified, hanging by a thread, and doing his best to hide it all, Sage stuck them - and to his story. The Secret Service… it was the first string of words that had come out of his mouth, and somehow it had worked. The Pokemon had taken him seriously… and really… he could barely…

The Meowth asked him something.

"Yes."

That seemed to work.

He could not go back. Sage had cracked some kind of psychic stone inside himself, and its power would not relent. It had given him the strength to subdue that Pikachu, perhaps it had helped him lie his way here… and now…

"So what do you think we should-" said the Meoth…

Now… Sage started to see something else

Through a grey maze of cubicles, furious typing and tired Pokemon, Cecille followed his new manager, ironically named Grendal Loss. His tie felt too tight, but he feared fixing it would make it look too loose. He couldn't hear Grendal's words over the sound of his own heartbeat.

The offices of The Ministry of Finance were not what he had expected. From the outside… the building was so grand… even amongst the rest of Celadon City, The Ministry of Finance, with its fresh white stone, high columns and colossal towers, stood out. Cecille remembered his mother reading to him that it had been built… and now he was inside it. And inside it was depressing.

Past the open and opulent entrance hall - complete with twelve foot tall portrait of The High Chancellor - it was all offices, drab cubicles and weary workers.

"Sound good to you, Cecille? I try to make sure all my Officers are taken care of, and not to mention, to have a Doctor-" Grendal Loss cocked an eye. "Cecille?"

Cecille Freys shook off his malaise and tried to concentrate. HIs new boss, Grendal Loss, was a Lickitung, a huge pink nightmare nearly bursting out of its suit. When he spoke, his massive, wet lips smacked together, and his serpentine tongue weaved unsettlingly. Still, his eyes were kind, his tone was earnest, he seemed to be a good person. Then again, good people didn't last long in this world. Cecille new that, green as he was.

"Sorry. Yes. Sorry, I'm just a little in awe at being here. But yes, that sounds good. And please, degrees aren't everything," he said, knowing full well his family had bought it.

"Still," replied Grendal, slapping his side as he stood, stopped in the middle of the relentlessly labouring office. "Fuschia University, our nation's first University, impressive stuff. And you were there for how long?"

Cecille gave as honest a chuckle as he could. "Two years, thereabouts."

Grendal shook his head, saliva spraying, and clasped Cecille by the shoulder. "Two years, and you finished your doctorate in two years. Good thing we didn't interview you, would have been a waste of time. Minister Harp said 'Find the kid a job' and I've never been wrong to trust him. No sir."

As Grendal turned back around and continued to walk, Cecille loosened his tie. He couldn't work out if the Lickitung was being sincere or not.

"So here's your desk," said Grendal, stopping again and pointing to an empty cubicle. "Your first workload is there, the pile of files, double check the math - you'll mostly be double checking math for now. Let me know if you have any questions." All but shoving Cecille into the cubicle, Grendal gave a wet, trembling laugh. "Not the most exciting work, but we all have to start somewhere. Still, lots of room for progression at the MOF… if you do your math right."

The Lickitung strode away, his form falling heavy against the ground. Cecille sighed, taking the first file from the stack and starting to do the math.

"Hello? Are you listening?"

Sage returned to the present, finding Cecille staring at him.

"Sorry. Yes. Sorry, I'm just a little-"

"A little what?" spat the Meowth.

"A little dangerous and prone to violent displays of psychic power," croaked Taylor Tales, who had still not fully recovered.

Cleo gave a small stifled laugh.

Cecille was unimpressed… but Cecille was no longer what drew Sage's thoughts.

On one side of a huge ebony table, Taylor sat, trying not to let the knot in his stomach grow any larger. On the other side, flicking through his file, was Vivian Jeopardy. Her blonde hair fell in perfect curves, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. Her cold, pointed eyes juxtaposed her fat wrinkled lips, two beads of blue and two slugs of red. Her careful hands floated over the document, its pages turning without touch, frosting as they did.

The Jynx looked at him. "You're native to Kanto Province?"

"I am," replied Taylor trying to not shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"You were here when the war started?"

"I was just a kid, but-."

"In Pallet Town?"

"Yes, I was born in Pallet Town."

"And your father…"

Taylor let a small cough loose. "He was a traitor."

Vivian raised an immaculate eyebrow. "You think so?"

Shifting comfortably, Taylor nodded. "I know so."

Vivian smiled. "So then, why do you want to work for The Federal Advertising Commission?"

Taylor exhaled as his brain prepared his mouth for the big number. "I'm a young man trying to redeem the crimes of his father by working for the government that father fought against, and do some good instead."

Vivian put the file down and laced her fingers. "Is that true?"

Taylor Tales smiled in a way he had never done before,hoping it would not be the last time.. "Doesn't matter if it's true, it's a good story."

Vivian returned that smile, obviously practised in it. "And the truth?"

"You're not paying me for the truth."

She leant back in her chair."I'm not paying you at all."

Taylor stumbled, his voice caught in his throat.

Vivian chuckled. "The government pays you." She grinned and stood, walking over to a cabinet and pouring two glasses of whiskey. She handed one to Taylor. "Still… there's two kinds of people who apply to work here: those who think it'll be a fun escape from the real world, and those who know 'the real world' doesn't exist." She gestured for Taylor to drink before taking a swig from her own glass. "We can never have enough of the second kind."

Taylor smiled, stalled, shifted, took a sip. "So I have the job-"

"You have job. Now go change some minds before I change mine."

"Cleo, you know it isn't helpful when you-"

"And it isn't helpful when you to saddle us with deadly human baggage, Freys." The Growlithe shook her head, the ruby around her neck glinting as she huffed in frustration. "We have been wandering around, trying to come up with a plan for over 48 hours, and this motherfucker here has been stalling and bullshitting the whole way. I know none of you agree with me, and fine, but I don't know what else-"

Sage was watching her as she shouted, and then he was watching her somewhere else…

General Braze, mighty, feared and beloved, war hero, state icon, and father, walked beside her. He was at least four times her size, a proud mass of canine muscle, orange fur and white mane. He was the most respected Arcanine in the military, General Clairmont Braze, her dad.

"This path is what you make of it, you understand that, don't you Cleo?"

"Yes sir."

"I know I've said it before, but I won't be disappointed if you don't join the Federal Army."

Cleo tensed, not looking up at him. "An officer should never have to repeat themselves, sir."

Her father chuckled, "You will make a fine soldier. And they will give you access to your stone soon enough, I'm sure. But-" her father stalled.

Cleo looked up, thrown off. "But?"

General Braze swallowed and then leant in close. "It's over for us, Cleo. There's no real fighting left."

Cleo wrinkled her brow, "The outer territories…there's still-"

Claremont leant even closer. "For us. Us." Giving a sigh he tried to temper his intensity. "They will… I will… You won't be sent to fight and possibly die at the edges of the empire. It won't be allowed."

In shock and desperately trying to reject what she heard, Cleo pushed closer to her father. "You have always said fighting in the war is your proudest achievement."

"You are my proudest achievement."

Cleo scoffed. "Put that in one of your speeches. Why are you saying this now? This is bullshit-"

"Cleo!"

"Sorry sir."

"You may want to fight, and I might even let you. But they won't."

Cleo felt her frustration going. "Why?"

"Because you are my daughter, and if you die… then…"

"Then?"

"Then they have nothing to hold over me."

A chill worked its way along her spine. "But you're… I don't understand."

General Clairmont Braze composed himself. "This path is what you make of it, Cleo. Either you make peace with it, or it destroys you. The Federal Army works for The State, and The State maintains control… by any means necessary."

Cleo felt her stomach turn to stone. "You're saying-"

"I didn't say anything." Her father turned away from her.

Watching as her father walked away, she could only splutter "What?"

"This conversation never happened."

"But-"

Snapping his head to face her, General Braze growled only a little quieter than he glared. "What was that, young lady?"

Cleo swallowed. "Nothing, sir."

Her father nodded. "A fine soldier indeed."

The vibration of the spores brought Sage back to the present. "This gets us nowhere," they said. "We recommend we make a decision and follow it fast. Otherwise Lamia will leave."

Taylor laughed his way into a coughing fit. "I called it! I called it like a year ago that she would betray us. Freys, didn't I call it?"

"Shut up, Taylor!" shouted Cecille. "Lamia, if decisiveness is what you want, why don't you choose?"

The spores did not hesitate. "We walk."

Cleo scoffed, "We walk? We cannot walk to Johto."

"We can," replied Lamia, as Sage's mind once more fell to alien memories.

Stood in that damp field, Lamia struggled to believe what she was hearing. "We have been unable to maintain employment in the past. Lamia is seen as unpleasant."

Thin but constant rain fell, filling the air like disparate fog. A tall wooden figure stood opposite her, its bright yellow eyes piercing the haze. It wore a black jacket, a thick mane of white plume covering its face and falling behind it. Its thin branch-formed arms ended in hands made from long emerald leaves. Lamia had not seen this Pokemon before.

"Do not worry," it said, its leaf fingers twitching in the breeze. "The Minister is looking for a certain kind. A kind that others tend not to appreciate. Tend to find unpleasant."

The spores struggling against the damp, felt unsafe. "The Ministry of Social Order approaches Lamia… Why?"

The Pokemon smiled somewhere under that forest of white strands. "There is a new Minister. The function of the Ministry is going to expand. But the Minister needs support. A grassroots kind of support."

A long awkward silence hung in the saturated air.

Eventually the spores, mostly soaking on the ground, responded. "This is a pun? Grass-roots. But why does the Minister-"

"They're one of us. They think we should stick together. They realise how much we have to offer. Don't you?"

The spores struggled against the damp as Lamia crawled forward. "We have a lot to offer."

The figure nodded, "We know. What grows knows, ey?" laughing, the individual came close to her. "There aren't many of you left, are there?"

Lamia tensed as the spores tried to return… most of them were drowning. "Is this sympathy?"

"No," replied the figure. "It's appreciation. Appreciation that almost came too late. The Minister insisted I find a Parasect."

The spores pushed against the rain like breath underwater. "So it could have been anyone?"

"But it was you." The figure chuckled. "Well, it could be you. If you'd like it to be. Would you like it to be?"

"Work for the Ministry of Social Order? What would Lamia be doing?"

"Well… The Minister likes to say - Someone must keep the unaccountable accountable."

The spores twitched. "In the name of social order?"

"In the name of society itself."

"Ask the Toxic!" shouted Cleo. "Ask it."

The spores shuddered in the air, "We do not see how this-"

"You not seeing is why you should ask-" Cleo growled. "Cecille, ask it."

Cecille hesitated.

The Growlithe snapped."Noxos, are they lying?"

A liquid murmur bubbled in the dark. After a few moments, the thick slime of Noxos began to spill from the distance. "My opinion… It matters not what my opinion… I…"

"Answer the question, Noxos!" shouted Cleo.

The Muk, horrifying and desperate, crawled towards Cecille. Sage felt it crawl into his mind.

With a blinding flash, Noxos was poured out of containment, and felt the wet dirt meet it. "Muk 16, confirm your presence!"

Slowly gripping the world with each sense, Noxos realised it was time for another mission, and it relished this. Finally it was free again. "I am present, General."

"The Clefairy are attempting to flee into the nearby forests and mountains. You will neautralise as many as you can. Unfderstood?"

Noxos shifted in excitement and attempted understanding. "Clefairy?"

General Braze flung a dismembered pink arm towards Noxos.

The Muk took in the scent. "I have-"

"Make sure," barked General Braze.

Noxos poured itself over the severed limb, eroding and digesting it - fur, flesh and bone. "I am sure," gurgled Noxos, toxic fumes rising from the act of its consumption.

"Good. Then go!"

Noxos rushed like laden river water. Deep into the forest, it forced its noxious bile, leaving only burn and bitterness in its wake. It could smell them, the Clefairy, running, hiding, trying to fight. And each was nothing more than a violent checkpoint.

Noxos surged and enveloped each one - heard them scream, felt them struggle, smelt as their being dissolved. Pink fur and red flesh sloughed away within black and purple sludge, scattered bone left stained and steaming.

But as they got to the mountain pass, Noxos felt something... something in the stone… someone, up there, in there, somehow warning Noxos to stay away.

So Muk 16 dove into the mountain, corroding rock and squeezing through crevasses, seeking to humble that power. Past shadow and stone, Noxos - Muk 16 grew close… It could smell them. A few more feet and-

Sage screamed.

All the Pokemon turned and stared, varied mix of shock, concern and suspicion.

Cecille spoke first, "Agent?"

Sage tried his best to clear his mind of all the images and voices. "I just-"

Cleo stepped forward, baring her teeth, "You just?"

"The Clefairy-" Sage spluttered, light headed, dazed and not entirely sure what he was saying. "They died here."

Noxos drew within itself. Cleo took another step towards him. The others watched silently.

"But they're not all dead," continued Sage. "They're hiding."

At this, Cleo finally stepped back.

Sage would have felt relieved but could barely keep himself from falling back in a pained haze. His mind was strained and still spinning. But he couldn't… he had to keep it together. He couldn't fall back into a memory that wasn't his, or a dream that was.

"The Clefairy?" asked Cecille, audibly confused. "The military eradicated the-"

"They didn't," interrupted Cleo. "Some got away."

Taylor chuckled, "I do love our talks."

Cecille bared his claws. "Shut up, Taylor! Lamia, what do you know about-"

The spores fidgeted, unsettling the air, seeming to think. "The Ministry of Social Order was not aware of-"

"Bullshit!" snapped Cecille. "If the military-"

"Not the military," murmured Cleo. "Just my dad. And me." Slowly the Growlithe shifted her gaze to Noxos. "And that."

"Really, love these talks," piped Taylor.

Cecille shot the Pikachu a glare before speaking. "So… So what, he read your minds. Everyone calm down. At least he isn't throwing anyone around."

Cleo trained her gaze, configuring. "No… He's suggesting something."

Sage, barely holding onto consciousness, felt the chains of his terminal anxiety loosen. He did his best to nod at Cleo, implying she was right - hoping she had leapt to a conclusion that had changed her mind.

"Suggesting what?" asked Cecille.

Cleo looked at him, "The Metronome."

Sage, trying his best not to breathe too heavily, nodded a second time.

Cecille turned away from Cleo and stepped towards the young man. "So, what? We find this secret Clefairy hideout and force them to use The Metronome…"

Reality was finally beginning to resolidify for Sage, and he found himself in a place he wasn't sure how he had got to or how he could leave. Staring down at the unconvinced and dangerous Meowth walking towards him, Sage fixated on the golden coin fixed to their forehead, and spoke. "We pay them."

Cecille drew back, confused. "We pay them- They're in hiding. Apparently. What use would they have for-"

"The stones," said Cleo. "The Federal Mineral Reserve is in Pewter City."

Sage nodded a third time. Instantly feeling as if it was too much, and trying not to panic.

Cecille, flustering in half cooked rage, began walking in circles. "You're saying he's saying we rob The Federal Mineral Reserve, seek out the hidden surviving Clefairies, and offer them Moonstones in exchange for use of The Metronome to get us to Johto and- You're insane. He's insane. You are both insane."

Now Cleo nodded. "He is insane. You're right. We can't trust him."

Sage's heart skipped a beat as he desperately searched for what to say. This was it. He was going to die. The silence and tension fell upon his soul and began to strangle it. Then the spores spoke.

"She has been manipulating you, Cecille. Her primary goal remains to neutralise the human."

Cleo rolled her eyes. "Oh shut the fuck up Lamia."

"Really, really love these talks," added Taylor.

Cecille cried out. "I do not understand how-"

Cleo growled, "I don't understand either. But I know for certain that this human has to go. Before we do anything. We have to kill him."

Sage was about to turn and run; his gambit had failed. But before he could, Noxos said something that caused them all to pause.

"The Clefairy are coming."

Cecille stared blankly, one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"I can smell… I have smelt them before. I have felt this before… The Clefairy are coming."

Cleo rolled her eyes. "The Toxic is being delusional.

And then, with a Tick-Tock and flash of light, they found the Toxic was not being delusional.