Chapter 7: Infiltration
As my eyes adjusted to the dim afternoon light, I realized the sleeping Pokémon in my lap was an Abra. Its fox-like features were relaxed in peaceful slumber, golden-brown fur soft under my fingers. The Abra's large, pointed ears twitched slightly as it dreamed, and I could see the faint outline of its closed eyes beneath heavy lids.
The Abra's tail, surprisingly long and thin, was curled around its body, the tip occasionally flicking as if chasing something in its sleep. Its three-fingered paws were tucked close to its chest, rising and falling with each breath.
Suddenly, a flock of Pidgey landed nearby, their loud squawking piercing the evening calm. I tensed, sure the noise would wake the sleeping Psychic-type. But the Abra didn't stir, its breathing remaining deep and even.
From the direction of the city, I heard the sudden, jarring sound of construction work starting up – the grinding whir of a drill cutting through the peaceful park atmosphere. Still, the Abra slept on, seemingly oblivious to the world around it.
Bemused, I turned to Arlow, who was watching the scene with what I could swear was amusement in his eyes. "Well, this is certainly unexpected," I whispered.
The moment the words left my mouth, the Abra's eyes snapped open. For a split second, I found myself staring into deep, intelligent eyes – and then, with a soft 'pop', the Abra vanished, leaving behind only a lingering warmth in my lap and a faint scent of ozone.
Startled by the sudden disappearance, I blinked, looking around as if expecting the Abra to reappear. But the park remained unchanged, save for Arlow's soft chuckle-like rustling of leaves.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I checked my watch and realized how late it had gotten. "Come on, Arlow," I said, standing and brushing grass from my clothes. "We should find a place to stay for the night."
We made our way back into the heart of Saffron City, the streets now illuminated by the warm glow of streetlights. After some searching, we found a modest hotel that accepted Pokémon. The room was small but clean, with a comfortable-looking bed and a window overlooking the city skyline.
Two days later, the morning dawned bright and clear. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully grooming myself for the day ahead. My curly brown hair, cut short, was tamed into a presentable style. I trimmed my stubble, leaving just enough to give a slightly rugged edge to my appearance.
As I dressed, I chose my outfit with care – navy slacks, a crisp white button-up shirt, a charcoal gray blazer, and a green tie that complemented my eyes. The ensemble was professional enough for a business setting but casual enough not to draw undue attention.
I packed a messenger bag with seemingly innocent items – a notebook, pen, potions, a couple Pokéballs, some treats for Arlow, granola bars, and a water bottle. But hidden in a special compartment, designed to appear as an ordinary lining when scanned, were the tools of my trade: lock picks, a high-tech USB drive, and a small device for bypassing electronic security systems.
With everything prepared, Arlow and I set out for Silph Co. The streets were bustling with morning commuters, and I felt a tinge of nervousness as we approached the imposing skyscraper. I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm and focused.
We arrived at Silph Co. twenty minutes before the scheduled tour. The lobby was already filled with other visitors, a mix of excited tourists and serious-looking professionals. I noticed a group of students, probably on a field trip, chattering excitedly about the latest Pokéball technology. A couple of older gentlemen in business suits were engaged in a heated discussion about stock prices.
A petite woman with glasses and a clipboard began organizing the tour group. "Good morning, everyone!" she called out cheerfully. "Welcome to Silph Co.! If you're here for the 10 AM tour, please gather around me."
As we assembled, I studied our fellow tour members. There was a family of four, the children barely containing their excitement. A young woman with a camera slung around her neck was snapping photos of the lobby. Two men in lab coats stood slightly apart, speaking in low tones and occasionally glancing at their watches.
"Alright, folks!" our tour guide said, clapping her hands for attention. "My name is Melissa, and I'll be your guide today. Before we begin, please note that photography is allowed in most areas, but there will be some restricted zones where we'll ask you to refrain from taking pictures. Any questions before we start?"
After addressing a few queries about the tour duration and bathroom locations, Melissa led us towards a set of sleek elevators. "Our first stop," she announced as we ascended, "will be our Pokéball design department."
The doors opened to reveal a large, open-plan office space. Workstations were cluttered with prototypes and blueprints, and several 3D printers whirred softly in the background.
"Silph Co. has been at the forefront of Pokéball technology for decades," Melissa explained, leading us to a display case. "Here you can see the evolution of our designs, from the original Poké Ball to our latest innovations."
She pointed out various models, explaining their features. "The Great Ball, introduced in the year 2085 P.E. (Pokémon Era), offered a higher catch rate than the standard Poké Ball. The Ultra Ball, developed in 2093 P.E., further improved on this design."
A young boy raised his hand. "What about Master Balls?" he asked eagerly.
Melissa smiled. "Ah, the Master Ball. That's our most advanced creation, guaranteed to catch any Pokémon without fail. However, due to the complexity and cost of production, they're extremely rare and not available for public purchase."
We moved on to the Technical Machine (TM) department next. The lab was filled with complex machinery and rows of computer terminals. Scientists in white coats moved purposefully between workstations.
"TMs are one of Silph Co.'s most important products," Melissa explained. "These devices allow Pokémon to learn moves they might not naturally acquire. The process of creating a TM is highly complex and involves digitizing the neural patterns associated with specific moves."
She gestured to a nearby scientist, who was working with a strange, helmet-like device. "Here, Dr. Lewis is in the process of creating a new TM for the move Psychic. The neural patterns of a highly trained Alakazam are being recorded and converted into data that can be transferred to other Pokémon."
Melissa leaned in, her voice taking on a tone of pride. "It's worth noting that not all TMs are created equal. The quality and effectiveness of a TM depend heavily on the strength and skill of the Pokémon from which the neural patterns are harvested. Silph Co. has spent decades cultivating a vast database of exceptional neural patterns from some of the most elite Pokémon in the world."
She smiled, a glimmer in her eye. "We're talking about Pokémon belonging to Champions, Elite Four members, and other top-tier trainers. Their Pokémon's mastery of moves is on a completely different level. When we create TMs from these patterns, we're essentially allowing trainers to tap into the expertise of the very best. It's like having a little piece of a champion's skill in a compact, transferable form."
As Melissa continued her explanation, I found my attention drawn to the computers lining the walls. Each screen displayed complex code and diagrams that I couldn't quite make sense of, but I knew this was the kind of information Team Rocket was after.
Our next stop was the Pokémon Evolution Research and Development department. The lab here was even more impressive, with large tanks containing various Pokémon at different stages of evolution.
"Silph Co. has been studying the mechanics of Pokémon evolution for years," Melissa said, leading us to a tank containing several Eevee. "Our research has led to the development and refinement of evolution-inducing items like the Fire Stone and Thunder Stone."
She paused, her expression turning more serious. "It's important to note that while these stones occur naturally, they've become increasingly rare due to decades of human mining activities. That's why one of our key initiatives is the development of synthetic evolution stones that produce the same effects without further depleting natural resources."
Melissa then guided us to a different display, showing various Pokémon and peculiar items. "We're also delving into the fascinating world of evolution through held items. Take Electabuzz and Magmar, for example. In captivity, they evolve when holding specific items and being traded. However, we've observed instances of these Pokémon evolving in the wild without such items."
She pointed to a diagram on the wall, showing the various evolved forms of Eevee alongside other Pokémon with branching evolutions. "Our current focus is on understanding the factors that influence which form a Pokémon will take when exposed to different stimuli, be they natural or artificial. For instance, what environmental factors might trigger an Eevee to evolve into a Glaceon in the wild, without the presence of an Ice Rock?"
Melissa's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "This research could potentially lead to new methods of controlled evolution, perhaps even allowing trainers to guide their Pokémon's evolution more precisely. Imagine being able to evolve your Eevee into a Sylveon without needing to rely on friendship and knowing a Fairy-type move!"
She gestured to a group of scientists working with complex-looking equipment. "We're also exploring the possibility of replicating these natural evolution triggers in a lab setting. If successful, it could revolutionize how we understand and interact with Pokémon evolution."
As the tour progressed, I found myself genuinely fascinated by the information Melissa was sharing. The technological advancements and scientific research being conducted here were truly impressive. But I couldn't forget why I was really here.
About halfway through the tour, I put my plan into action. Pulling out my phone, I feigned receiving an urgent call. "I'm so sorry," I said to Melissa, putting on my best apologetic expression. "I have to take this. It's an emergency. Please, continue without me – I'll try to catch up if I can."
Melissa looked concerned but nodded. "Of course, sir. Just remember, you'll need an escort to re-enter the secure areas if you do come back."
I nodded gratefully and hurried away, ducking into an empty conference room once I was out of sight. There, I waited, listening as the tour group's voices faded into the distance.
Several hours later when I was sure the coast was clear, I pulled up the detailed floor plans I had memorized. The TM department was two floors up, and security would be tight. I released Arlow from his Poké Ball, crouching down to give him instructions.
"Alright, Arlow," I whispered. "We need to move quietly and stay hidden. If we encounter any security, I need you to use Sleep Powder. Can you do that?"
Arlow nodded, his leaves rustling with determination.
We slipped out of the conference room, and I quickly scanned the area. Spotting a rack of lab coats nearby, I grabbed one and shrugged it on, hoping it would help us blend in better. We made our way to the stairwell, avoiding the more monitored elevators. As we climbed, I could feel my heart racing, a mix of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through me.
Reaching the TM department floor, I carefully opened the door, peering out to check for any security personnel. The hallway was clear, but I could hear voices in the distance. We moved swiftly and silently, ducking into doorways whenever we heard someone approaching.
Finally, we reached the main TM research lab that I had seen earlier during the tour. The door was locked, protected by an electronic keypad and card reader. I pulled out the specialized lock-picking tool I'd been trained to use during covert ops sessions back at the Team Rocket base. My hands shook slightly as I attached it to the keypad. One wrong move, one misaligned connection, and alarms would blare throughout the building. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and activated the device.
For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft click, the lock disengaged. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and carefully opened the door.
Once inside, I headed straight for the central computer terminal. Pulling on a pair of thin, flexible gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, I examined the system. It was more advanced than I'd anticipated, with multiple layers of security. I plugged my decryption device into a USB port, watching anxiously as it cycled through possible username and password combinations at lightning speed. Each failed attempt made my heart skip a beat, knowing we were on borrowed time.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two, the screen flashed green. We were in.
My gloved fingers flew over the keyboard as I navigated through the computer's labyrinthine file system. Folders within folders, misleading file names, and decoy documents made the search challenging. I cursed under my breath, acutely aware of each passing second. Arlow kept watch by the door, his leaves twitching at every sound.
Finally, buried deep within a subfolder labeled "Historical Data Backups," I found what we were looking for: a series of files detailing the classified TM production process. My heart raced as I initiated the download to my secure drive.
Just as the progress bar hit 100%, an ear-splitting alarm blared to life. My heart leapt into my throat as I realized we'd been discovered. Whether we'd tripped a silent alarm or someone had noticed our unauthorized access, our time was up.
"Time to go, Arlow!" I hissed, grabbing my equipment and the newly filled USB drive.
We burst out of the lab, the alarm still blaring in our ears. The hallway was empty, but I could hear shouts and running footsteps in the distance. "The stairs," I hissed to Arlow, and we sprinted towards the stairwell.
Just as we reached the door, I heard the thunder of boots on the steps below. Guards were rushing up, cutting off our escape route. My hand flew to my pocket, pulling out a sleek, black mask. I quickly slipped it on, covering the lower half of my face up to my eyes. At least my identity would be protected if we were caught on camera.
"Change of plans," I muttered, yanking open the door to the floor below us. We burst into a busy corridor, startling a group of researchers emerging from a lab. Their eyes widened at the sight of us - a masked intruder and a battle-ready Oddish.
"Arlow, Sleep Powder!" I commanded. Arlow released a cloud of shimmering spores, and the researchers crumpled to the floor, peacefully snoring. We leapt over their prone forms, racing down the hallway.
Ahead, I could see an "EXIT" sign glowing red at the end of the corridor. Hope surged through me - maybe we could make it after all. But just as we rounded the corner, we came face to face with another group of guards.
"Freeze!" one of them shouted, reaching for a Poké Ball.
We spun around, only to see more guards approaching from behind. My mind raced, searching for an escape route. There - a small side corridor. I grabbed Arlow and dove into it, hearing the guards' shouts growing louder behind us.
The corridor led to a series of small offices. We ducked into one, slamming the door shut behind us. I could hear the guards spreading out, searching each room. It was only a matter of time before they found us.
My heart pounded in my chest as I frantically scanned the office for anything we could use. A window? Too high up. Air vent? Too small. This was it - we were truly cornered, just like in my nightmare. The reality of our situation began to sink in, and I felt panic clawing at the edges of my mind.
As I paced the small room, my foot suddenly caught on something soft. I stumbled, nearly falling, and looked down in confusion. There, amid scattered papers and toppled office supplies, was a familiar golden-furred form. My jaw dropped in disbelief.
It was the Abra from the park, somehow here in this Silph Co. office, fast asleep despite the chaos around us.
In that moment, I made a split-second decision. I returned Arlow to his Poké Ball and scooped up the sleeping Abra in my arms. "Hey," I said urgently, shaking it gently. "Wake up! We need your help!"
The Abra's eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with that same intelligent gaze I'd seen in the park. Just as the office door burst open and guards flooded in, I felt a strange tugging sensation in my gut.
The world around us blurred and twisted, and suddenly we were back in the park, the evening air cool on my skin. The Abra, now fast asleep again as if nothing had happened, was curled up in my arms. I stood there, slightly disoriented, still wearing the stolen lab coat and my face mask, acutely aware of how out of place I must look.
I stood there, heart pounding, the stolen data secure in my bag and an unexpected Pokémon in my arms.