Chương 94: Chapter 76

My question hung in the open air, answered only by a quiet, whirring hum as my two newest partners spun pensively, clearly considering my offer. I was eager for them to accept the names, and I wasn't so oblivious to miss that my desire was due, at least in some part, to my failure to furnish Maushold with the same. The wonder they'd shown, the relief, the awe, I didn't want to deprive Klang of that a moment longer than necessary. They, however, had other plans.

"Klang," the refusal was as brief as it was resolute. I blinked a few times, nonplussed by the response. My surprise lasted long enough that they continued, apparently feeling a need to justify their response.

"Klang Klang, k-k-klang lang," they told me, explaining through Maushold that, while they wanted me to provide them with a name like my other partners someday, they didn't feel like they had yet earned the privilege. I disagreed, thoroughly, but as I was quickly coming to learn, my newest partners were just as stubborn as hardheaded as I was. Maybe more-so, considering their skulls were made of solid metal.

We argued back and forth a bit, but at the end of their day, it was their choice, not mine, and they didn't think they were ready. Just because I disagreed, didn't mean I had any right to step on that resolution. The rest of the debrief passed much less dramatically, as we went over each part of the battle and autopsied how we could improve our coordination in future conflicts. Because Scythe was still out there. RealTech was still after my dad. Alyssa was still in danger.

This wasn't over yet, and until it was, every spare moment stolen, every drop of strength and effort squeezed was another inch closer to escaping the mire we'd been dragged into. The only sticking point was some confusion about who was responsible for knocking the Zoroark away from me in those final moments before the battle concluded. My knights said they thought my sonic scream had knocked her back into them, but I wouldn't have been strong enough to do that at full strength, let alone weakened as I was.

Mana claimed she didn't do it, focused as she'd been on making sure Scyther was down and recovering from the earlier explosion. Maushold had been tied up fighting Scythe, and Klang were suppressing the Golbat. Unfortunately, our time to investigate the mystery was swiftly brought to a close by the introduction of a new enigma into our midsts.

"Fione, I have your last partner here," the third Joy entered, the one who'd been treating my Pokémon. She was carrying a tray in front of her, upon which rested a completely innocuous Poké Ball. The young, pink-haired woman who'd introduced herself as Setna didn't seem all that much older than me. She was probably closer to twenty than not though, considering she was working in the Pokémon Center, even if only as an assistant.

Still, she wasn't so fresh that she missed the way my partners and I all stiffened and tensed, staring warily at the metal tray she was wielding.

"Wha– what's wrong?" the girl stuttered, eyeing my partners and I in surprise as we slowly and painfully dragged ourselves into something resembling a ready posture.

"I only have four partners," I informed her, my voice quiet and hoarse.

"That Pokémon's not mine." Incredulity and something approaching fear warred on Setna's face.

"That's– that's not possible. This Poké Ball is registered to you in our system," she rushed to justify.

"It has to be yours!"

"Set it down," I directed, trying my best to keep my voice level as I took a few steps back. My partners stepped into the gap, interposing themselves between the unknown and I.

"Set it down and back away." The Joy was ashen by now, but she followed the instruction, stooping to deposit the tray on the ground just in front of the entrance and backing away, out of the room, until just her head was visible, peering around the edge of the doorframe.

"Come out," I directed at the suspiciously still Poké Ball. It remained inert, and my partners and I tensed further.

"I know you can hear me," I growled with false certainty.

"Come out right now, or we'll be forced to take more drastic action." I wasn't really sure what that action would have looked like (were we going to attack the Poké Ball?) but luckily for us, the mysterious interloper didn't call our bluff. With a crack and a hiss, the ball snapped open, revealing– nothing. Just a quick flash of light indicating that there'd been something in the ball.

Normally, when a Pokémon was released from a Poké Ball, their form emerged in a rush of brilliant energy that coalesced into a body of some kind, but somehow the interloper had bypassed this step.

"Invisible threat," I cautioned my team in a rush, "knights, scatter full dark, Mana, flood the room, Maushold, draw them out, Klang, cover me." My partners sprang into action, filling the previously quiet break room with quick, determined action. My knights flung themselves in a predetermined pattern all throughout the room and erupted with Dark-type energy, held closely inside their bodies to prevent psychic interference.

Mana filled the empty space with milling constructs, her school diffuse and wide-ranging, swimming all over themselves in search of an unseeable threat. Maushold clustered together and started waving their arms, shouting calls that drew the eye and demanded attention in their direction, and Klang hovered down close to me, their bodies grinding swiftly against one another as they made ready to throw themselves bodily in front of any threats.

A tense silence filled the space, as my partners combed the small break room for any sign of the intruder. And yet, somehow, no evidence of their passage appeared. No psychic power pushed against my knights, no invisible form ran into Mana's azure school, and no unseen danger attacked Maushold. After five seconds of inactivity, then ten, I finally spoke, " Show yourself." The command left me sagging, trying to catch my breath, and even that did nothing to disturb the uneasy peace in the now-crowded break room.

A flash of pink caught my eye, Setna, swinging her head back and forth in wonder and concern from the doorway.

"What was in that Poké Ball?" I asked her, tension rendering my tone terse and uncompromising. The young woman jolted, but spoke without hesitation, "It– the system said it was a Wiglett! One you caught half a year ago." My brow wrinkled in confusion.

"That's impossible," I told her, fighting with my vocal chords to keep my blown-out voice comprehensible.

"I released that Wiglett. Someone messed with your system."

"That's impossible," the other woman refuted, her brow pinched.

"We have two dozen Porygon running security for our network at all times. Nothing could get past them!" Remote Download complete. The flat, electronic voice silenced our back and forth, and drew everyone's attention to my bag, left abandoned on the table in the middle of the room. For a few, uncertain seconds, no one moved, and then we flew into action. I dove behind a row of lockers while Mana coalesced a wall of water around the bag.

Klang whirled down in-between the table and I, while my knights converged, surrounding the potential threat. Maushold were closest to the danger, still standing on the table as they were, but they remained resolute, their short gray-and-white fur bristling as they chittered threats at my bag. Hostility from subject: designee 'Fione,' detected. Implementing de-escalation protocol.

The same flat, affectless voice rang out, immediately followed by one far more human, and familiar, even in spite of the fact that it clearly came from the same speaker.

"Fee, it's dad. If you're hearing this, then Rubber has found you. He's a bit of a handful, but hear him out, please." My father's voice was unmistakeable, even through what must have been my Pokegear's tinny speakers, pushed to their max. Slowly, every eye in the room turned from the satchel to me, various degrees of confusion and uncertainty visible. I was feeling quite a bit of bewilderment myself, but I forced assuredness I didn't feel into my voice.

"Rubber, come out. We won't hurt you, I promise." A few moments passed, and then another flash of light filled the room, as something coalesced into being just above my bag. It looked similar to how a Pokémon might leave a Poké Ball, but it had no visible source or origin. Instead, a polygonal body formed from thin air, glowing energy resolving into a pink-and-blue body that jerked and whirred unstably a few inches off the surface of the break room table.

I'd never seen a Porygon in person before, but I knew what they were supposed to look like when they bothered taking a physical form. A pink and blue blocky body surmounted by an angular head and accompanied by rudimentary 'feet' and a pointy tail. The design was iconic, and I'd seen it plenty of times, when browsing the Porypedia database, in advertisements, using various Pokégear extensions, and even in textbooks at school. None of those impressions could have prepared me for the first time I laid eyes on Rubber.

He was narrower than the average Porygon, for starts. Noticeably so. As if parts of his form had been pared down, stripped as superfluous or redundant. But there were additions too. His tail wasn't just narrow, it was sharp. Pointed like a stiletto, and wielded just as elegantly. His 'feet' ended not in blocky fins, but jagged, saw-toothed claws, sharp enough to rend flesh. Most distinct were his eyes, narrowed and evaluating. From my second-hand experience, most porygon had wide, gormless expressions.

Which made sense, since they didn't actually use or need sensory organs in the first place. The eyes were simply camouflage to better let them fit in. Rubber had his gaze sharpened to razor edges. A statement, pointed and clear. I'm watching.

"You must be Rubber," I spoke carefully, letting my defocused eyes narrow down from perceiving the room in its entirety.

"My– dad sent you?" Affirmative. The Porygon's flat affect was startling every time I heard it. The voice was fully electronic as far as I could tell. No synthesis of sounds or recorded words, just a completely, electronically generated tone and vocabulary. This unit is known as Rubber. You are Fione Alvida. You have been identified as primary partner.

"By my dad, right?" I clarified, watching the strange little creature.

"Pern Alvida. He sent you?" The Virtual Pokémon twitched, a full-body spasm that caused a wave of near-reactions from my twitchy partners. Affirmative. Further details are c-c-classified to the Alvida family. The strange Porygon stuttered as he spun, indicating Setna, watching the strange tableau from the doorway. A hitched breath came from the woman, as the hovering program's attention landed on her. Setna Joy stood, as if transfixed, her eyes gazing at Rubber's slowly bobbing form.

"He's– he's beautiful. Did you– did you hack into the Pokémon Center's network?" You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Rubber's manifested form twitched again, and a brief, electronic whine came from my Pokégear's speaker before the voice continued again. No. That would be illegal. I cannot do illegal actions. The clear and obvious lie hung in the air, evident as falsehood in spite of the surety with which it was delivered. Everyone stared at the deceptive program.

Expressions of concern, skepticism, and doubt abounded. P-p-primary partner. Please recuse yourself to a private location so we may discuss classified information. I glanced between Setna, the hovering Porgyon, and my partners, trying to figure out the right thing to say as my thoughts raced a million miles a minute. Was this Porygon actually my dad's? How? Had he bought one? Programmed one himself? Was that even possible? How long had Rubber been looking for me? What did he know?

Did he have information on what happened to my father? That thought caught like wildfire in my mind, and suddenly, hearing what the Porygon had to say was unimaginably urgent.

"Rubber, this location is private, and everyone here is family. What message do you have for me from my father?" The hovering construct stuttered again. Rubber turned, his head and body shifting in uneasy patterns as he made a point of pretending to observe the room and its other inhabitants. Disagreement. This space is not private. Secondary partner's message is classified to the Alvida family. My mind spun over the problem trying to winnow out the right combination of words to get the Virtual Pokémon talking.

"Rubber, everyone here is part of the Alvida family. All present Pokémon are my partners, and Setna Joy is related to Ella Alvida-Joy, family by association." The Porygon hitched again for a moment, their whole body stuttering for a moment. Processing the affectless voice emerged from my bag. A faint whirring sound came from the hidden Pokégear, evidence that Rubber was thinking over the proposal. I almost spoke again after a few seconds, but before I could, an affirmative-sounding chime rang out. Acknowledged.

Extended classification: Alvida family, to all Pokémon currently present, and to designee, Setna Joy. Some of the tension that'd been creeping up in me unwound at the acknowledgement, but rather than feeling relieved, the partial-release just made me aware of how strained my entire being had been since Rubber's arrival.

"Alright. Alright, good. Now Rubber, what happened to my father?" - According to the Porygon himself, Rubber's explanation was best presented on a screen larger than the one on my Pokégear. Luckily, the Pokémon Center had what Setna called an 'airgapped system,' which apparently meant a PC disconnected from any sort of external connection, whether wired, wireless, or satellite.

They usually used it for treating the digital maladies that Porygon would sometimes accumulate, but apparently it was also useful for hiding from digital pursuers, of which Rubber was highly concerned. After seeing what he had to show us his paranoia seemed well-earned. Stillness pervaded the room, my partners, Setna and I all quiet as we mulled over what we had witnessed.

"We should take this to city security," the young joy was the first to break the silence.

"This is– it's beyond the pale."

"You know how that'd go. You saw the same video I did." Meaningful silence was my answer. Absently, I pressed the left button on the wired dedenne connected to the airgapped computer. The same clip we'd just watched three times played again on the screen, the grainy recording taken, apparently, from a camera installed on my dad's laptop.

"It's just business, Pern. We had this incredible technology, we had to make money off of it somehow." The deep voice was coming from a laptop held by a man in body armor, and directed at my father, who was being restrained by two more men dressed similarly. The backdrop looked like some sort of abandoned building, a decrepit structure with grass growing from between cracks in the shattered floor, and whose walls were coated in flowering ivy.

All three security goons were equipped with PSSs, carrying the devices clipped to belts or slung off of bags. My dad was wearing rumpled jeans and a snow-covered coat, and whiskers like I'd never seen on him had grown in on his cheeks.

"And yes, a few people are gonna get hurt or killed," the voice droned on, "and some of the little folk like you are gonna get screwed over, but that's just how these things go."

"So it's all just money?" My dad spat out.

"Obliterating Ferrum's public order. Getting thousands hurt or killed, introducing the risk of Shadow Pokémon. All of it just for a quick buck?"

"A quick buck," the voice scoffed.

"This is why smart men like you stagnate at the middle of the ladder, Pern. All your wits all, all your intellect, and you can't see the bigger picture. Every security officer, every ranger, every private contractor, all equipped with a PSS. That's not an aspiration, that's just the groundwork. It's already done. A new level of power available to combat an ever-growing threat." A dark chuckle emerged from the laptop's speakers, "Except, the artificial synergy stones that power them wear out.

Not as good as the real thing of course, but that's the cost of 'preserving the environment.' And to whom must all of Ferrum's institutions turn to keep their new, precious weapons working? RealTech, of course.

"Until competitors crop up," my father argued.

"There are already derivatives and knock-offs of the BfG, bootleg PSSs can't be far behind."

"But that's the beauty of it!" the man on the laptop retorted.

"I told you, everyone who matters already has a PSS. Why buy a knock-off when you've already purchased the real thing? All competitors will do is fuel the need for our own, more proprietary, more proven technology. After all, we've already made the mistake of selling to the unwashed masses. We know better by now. They'll need us Pern. Need RealTech. That's not just profit, that's power."

"And what happens when demand stalls out? When people realize the region isn't backsliding into anarchy. When order reasserts itself, and the contractors get shipped off to foreign shores again?" my dad prompted.

"Why, then our market expands overseas!" the voice crowed victoriously.

"And Ferrum will always be a step away from disaster. We have the tools to make sure of it. One shadow Pokémon in the right place. A gang of poachers who picked up some equipment that fell off the back of a truck. Imagine what people will pay to feel safe! What they'll be willing to give up!"

"Someone will stop you!" my father asserted.

"The dynasties, or city security, or the FSBC! You won't get away with this forever."

"Please, you think we could have gotten this far without their help? Ferrum wants this Pern. Well, the Ferrum that matters anyway. And you're going to play your part in all of this." That last statement was punctuated by the appearance of a Pokémon, a purple-scaled Venomoth, whose toxic outpouring quickly knocked my dad unconscious, for all that he tried to struggle against his captors. One of the men slung my father's unconscious form over his shoulder, while the other started walking towards the camera.

The last few seconds of footage showed the goon closing in, while the last security agent talked to their boss in the background.

"Have you secured the girl yet?" asked the voice from the laptop.

"Not yet sir. She's been in the wind since this afternoon, but city-security knows to hand her over to us. We'll have her be–" And whatever was going to be said after that was lost, as a reaching hand pushed the laptop shut. This was recorded two hours ago, Rubber reminded us from the PC's speakers.

"Setna, can I hook my Pokégear up to this PC?" I asked the woman, ice burning through my veins and trickling at the edges of my mind. She nodded, and pulled out a cable from a nearby drawer, showing me how to connect the two devices together.

"Rubber, can you duplicate the evidence on this Pokégear to the PC you're on?" Affirmative. Commencing download. A new window showed up on the screen, showing a progress bar, as various documents and files flashed across the monitor in a blur of cascading data. Presumably overcome with curiosity, Setna reached out, pulling up some of the files and perusing them while Rubber worked. I took to pacing, my mind abuzz with possibilities and plans.

I had to get my dad out of RealTech's clutches and out of Ferrum, all while the company and city-security were looking for me. I needed intelligence, disguises, power, and a dozen other resources I didn't have. I needed– help.

"Fione," a thread of focus caught Setna trying to get my attention.

"Fione, someone is trying to call you. It says, Alyssa?" I sprinted over to the desk and snatched up the Pokégear from the startled Joy, accepting the call.

"Alyssa! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Is she okay? What about you?" Mr. Gima's exasperated voice came from the device.

"We saw on the news that you got in a fight with Scythe! And apparently city security is looking for you? What happened?"

"Mr. Gima, where's Alyssa?" I asked, threads of panic swirling in my head.

"She's fine. Here with me, just napping. We had a long night. She's not the one who just fought and then joined Ferrum's most-wanted!" Relief burned through my veins at the confirmation that my best friend was okay.

"He was waiting at Alyssa's apartment to ambush her," I told the Dark-specialist.

"We tried to run, but he forced us into a fight. We knocked out his Golbat and Scyther, but his Hypno teleported him away before we could deal with the rest of his team."

"Truth's tits," the Unovan man swore.

"Are you alright? Why are the cops after you?"

"I– got a little beat up," I hedged, "and we may have blown up a street trying to deal with Scythe. I'm okay now, got fixed up at a Pokémon Center. What about you? Why are you two still out there?"

"We found Scythe's hideout last night and we've been staking it out," the Unovan man informed me.

"It was my turn on watch, and I had the news going on in the background when your name came up."

"You found it? Why didn't you call me?" I demanded. Silence stretched across the line for a few moments, and I felt the pit in my stomach grow deeper. I put my hand over the receiver, and whispered at the computer, "Rubber, trace this call."

"We didn't want to put you in further danger," the Unovan man finally acknowledged.

"For all the good that did us. Good job surviving Fe. Alyssa and I will nail this bastard and get your name cleared. You just sit tight."

"Fuck that, where are you!" I demanded, holding the receiver right up against my mouth.

"We didn't just live, we pounded that fucker like a drum. Tell me where you are so we can help!" No response came for a few seconds, and then a huge sigh from the other end of the line.

"You sound like you've been gargling glass. I'm sorry Fione, blame me, not Alyssa."" Don't you fucking dare hang up on–" my syn-powered tirade was cut off with a beep from the other end of the line, signaling the call was over. The expenditure of energy had me sagging, reaching out with my good arm to catch myself against the desk. I coughed a few times, trying to clear my throat, and then I turned to the PC.

"Rubber, did you–" Call traced, the Porygon's affectless voice interrupted me. A map of Techne showed up on the screen, replacing the completed loading bar. A blinking dot on the projected cityscape showed where the call had originated from. I stared at the winking light for a few seconds, and the bones of a plan coalesced in my mind. I wouldn't be able to break my dad out of RealTech's custody. Not on my own. But I knew somehow for whom that should be very possible. Someone who'd just made me very, very mad.

"Rubber, pull up the fastest public transit route from here to there," I directed.

"Fione, you're still injured, and city-security is after you. You can't seriously be considering going back out there!" Setna's objections fell on deaf ears, as part of my mind reviewed the images Rubber had pulled and I recalled my other partners.

"I'm done waiting around," I told the other girl.

"Someone has to keep Alyssa safe, someone has to free my dad, someone has to tell Ferrum what RealTech is doing, and if that someone has to be me, then that's just how it is."

"Fion–" she started to say something, but I swiftly cut her off.

"Review those files Setna, get them to someone outside of Ferrum. Someone who matters. Pass them to city-security too, but wait until tomorrow night, please. That should give us enough time to finish this." Considerations and plots crystallized into certainty, as I snapped a medical mask over my face, and slipped on a hat that Maushold had snagged from the lost and found.

"Rubber, are you coming?" Affirmative, the Porygon spoke from my Pokégear, which I proceeded to disconnect from the PC. Primary directive: assist primary partner in escaping region. Query, will this course of action further this end?

"I'll explain on the way," I told the Porygon as I strode out the door, ignoring the sputtering protests and objections coming from behind us.