Eyes mirroring each other. The windows to the soul, tainted with a gleam of
cruelty and a malicious slant. A generation of Rockets, born into the job.
It has not been this way for very long, in the scheme of things - but for
those living through these years, it was too long.
Cloning technology is old news these days, but when it was a novelty, and
the government was disinterested and unresponsive to people's concerns
about it, anyone who had access to the technology could abuse it.
Back then, in the years of the Rockets, there were examples...
***
"Alright," said Ash, enthusiastic, "now I only need one more badge to get
into the Orange League! I got the Spike Shell badge!"
"We know, Ash," said Misty, drily, pushing his hand away, "you've been
waving it in my face for the past three days."
"You saw the way I beat Rudy! AND Tad, the champion of his town! Hahahaha,
no trainer will ever beat me!"
"You sure have a selective memory."
"Well, you have to be a pretty tough trainer to get three badges in the
Orange League! I bet you couldn't do it yourself!"
"What is that supposed to mean, Ash Ketchum?!"
"I just meant that only experienced trainers can get so far."
"I'm far more experienced than you'll EVER be!"
Tracey ignored the two familiar arguments washing around him, and leaned
back on Lapras' shell, looking over the ocean they had covered. A wisp of a
breeze passed through the normally stale, hot climate, and Tracey stiffened.
At the same moment, something started beeping. Ash and Misty instantly
stopped their quabbling and jumped up. This was not a good idea when one is
travelling on a moving, unstable surface, and the two found themselves
floundering in the water.
"Raaaa," cooed Lapras, nudging Ash back onto her back. Misty grabbed one of
the spikes on her shell, and both children looked at Tracey. He was
rummaging through his backpack.
"What's that, Tracey?" asked Misty, shaking water out of her hair.
"That's just my beeper, Misty," he said, pulling out a small black object.
The beeping stopped. "When you're in the Pokemon Watcher's club like me,
you have to be reachable all the time!"
Ash and Misty blinked. Tracey peered at the beeper, then pulled out a
mobile phone.
"Hello," he said into the phone, "this is Tracey Sketchit, member 37. I got
your message."
His friends watched in silence as Tracey's expression changed.
A pleased look - "wow, I'm flattered you chose to call me!"
A curious look - "well, what's the situation?"
A thoughtful look - "I know a little about it... yes, some contact...
nothing I couldn't handle."
A concerned look - "that's horrible! How did you find that out?"
An angry look - "there has to be something we can do!... do you think so?
I'm not sure..."
A determined look - "well, I'll sure try. Anything else I need to know?...
okay... right... yup, got it. I promise... yeah, I'll try. Bye."
Tracey clicked his phone shut and looked at it for several moments. Ash
broke the silence.
"What was that about, Tracey?"
"I have to get to Indigo Island, stat!"
"But Tracey, Indigo Island's so far away. And what about my last badge?"
"Forget about your stupid badge," snapped Tracey, "this is more important!"
"What is it, Tracey?" asked Misty, surprised at his harsh tone.
"It's Pokemon Watcher business. Confidential."
The others facefaulted - and Ash fell in the water again. Lapras sighed and
pulled to a stop.
"Look," said Tracey, "you guys keep travelling around here. I really have
to go."
"But what's the big hurry," protested Ash, "and how will you get to Indigo
Island?"
Tracey pulled out a Pokeball and opened it. Scyther appeared, hovering in
the air above Lapras. Tracey shrugged on his backpack and climbed onto
Scyther's body. The bug Pokemon turned its head, puzzled, but didn't protest.
"I'll come back when I'm finished," promised Tracey, "now, Scyther, let's
get to Viridian City!"
Scyther had no idea where that was, but flew in the direction Tracey was
looking. Misty and Ash didn't even have time to wave. They looked at each
other.
"That was... sudden," said Misty.
"Weird," said Ash.
"Pikachu," said Pikachu, worried.
***
As Tracey clung onto his Pokemon for dear life, the club president's words
from the phone conversation rang in his mind.
"We know you're young but... that may be to our advantage..."
"We feel you have the skills necessary..."
"I trust you have come into contact with Team Rocket in your travels, right?"
"Do not tell anyone..."
"It is imperitive we stop them in time..."
He thought to himself, grimly, that this was what a Pokemon Watcher was
really meant to do - not just draw.
***
"Pokemon disappearing from Pokemon Centers!"
A newsagent began stacking newspapers into display racks with the help of
his store assistant, a Wartortle. He smiled slightly. Such disturbing
headlines were sure to bring good business his way. But the Wartortle
looked concerned.
***
The committee of Pokemon Watchers sat around a table, arguing furiously.
"I believe you made an unwise choice in Tracey."
"Yes, isn't he a little young to take on a task of such terrible importance?"
"Tracey is a bright young man, he would catch on quickly enough."
"But manpower's what's needed. And experience!"
"Excessive force could destroy everything. We need strategy."
"Tracey is perfect for it."
"He had better be!"
"You're sure he's trustworthy?"
"He is one of us."
***
Tracey and Scyther flew until sunset. There were no islands around, so the
two landed uncomfortably on a large cluster of rocks. Scyther's wings
whirred to a stop, and it collapsed - exhausted, but too proud to display
it sooner. Tracey almost fell off its back, and lay back, rubbing his arms,
trying to bring feeling back into them.
"Scytherrr," croaked the mantis, flipping onto its back.
"I'm sorry we couldn't find anywhere better to stay," said Tracey, "let's
have something to eat and rest up for a while. But we have to get to Indigo
Island as soon as we can."
Scyther nodded weakly.
***
On Indigo Island, one of the most expansive - and most expensive - estates
was owned by the Bond family. Few people could become so rich honestly, and
such was the case with them. Their only son, James, followed in their
footsteps, although in a less glorified position.
The man of the house looked at his wife, and their eyes mirrored one
another's.
"Prepare for trouble," he said solemnly.
"Make it double," she agreed.
They went to look for their (potential) daughter-in-law, one of Team
Rocket's finest...
***
Giovanni stroked his Persian, a small smile playing on his face.
***
"The boss wants us to call him?!" demanded Cassidy, alarmed, "is he angry
about us using Rocket expenses for a failed plan?"
"I hope not," said Butch calmly, but his eyes showed a trace of concern
that reflected Cassidy's own.
***
Persian purred, flicking its tail back and forth.
***
"The boss wants to see us in person," said James, pitifully, "this can only
mean..."
"...we're fired!" wailed Meowth. The two clutched each other and bawled.
Jessie rolled her eyes, and then hit them both with a fan.
"Don't think like that," she snapped, "how bad could it possibly be?..."
She trailed off and her expression drooped, just like those of the others.
***
"We're finally there!" panted Tracey, "see how green it is? I'm sure that's
Viridian City!"
"Therrr," groaned Scyther, and stopped in mid-air. The two free-fell,
plummeting towards the earth, and landing rather painfully in the fork of a
tree.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," said Tracey, "but all in all, great job,
Scyther!"
Scyther smiled wearily, exhausted from its days of flight. Tracey checked
his watch - they had made good time. One day to spare...
"Scyther, return!" he called, bringing his Pokemon back for a well-earned
break.
Tracey stretched, and awkwardly descended the tree. He was in the outskirts
of Viridian Forest, and, recognising this, called Venonat out.
"Veno nat," it squeaked, wiggling its nose.
"Venonat, see if you can find any other Pokemon around here."
"Veno!"
Venonat's eyes gleamed, and it looked around carefully. Facing one
direction, it paused, and squeaked an affirmitive.
***
Tracey arrived in the Pokemon Watcher's HQ with a new Caterpie and
Sandslash. Those present seemed ridiculously glad to see him, which
furthered his worry - how severe *was* this problem?
"This problem is very severe," said the president, "do us proud."
***
One Joy spoke to another via videophone.
"How is that poor Ivysaur doing?"
"Much the same, really. It had a poison overload, and it doesn't seem to
care much about recovering."
"Partly the trainer's fault, I would imagine?"
"Yes, I do wish they would make the effort to care... anyway, are you going
to the Golden Cove Joy's party this weekend?"
"I think I can get my sister to cover for me."
"Oughtn't she to be there too? All the Joys were intended to..."
"Our mother doesn't want her to go."
"That would be right!"
"How's little Joy doing?"
"The four-year-old or the seven-year-old?"
"Both!"
"Well, the seven-year-old got her first Chansey last week, she's so happy
about it!"
"It's a big event at that age, isn't it!"
"Our youngest Joy is still in the "I wanna be a hairdresser stage". I'm
sure she'll grow out of it soon, but..."
"A hairdresser now, is it? She'll learn soon enough."
"She's a late bloomer, I think. Her sister was her age when she realised
she wanted to become a nurse."
"Don't worry, Joy, we all get the occasional -"
"Excuse me."
Joy blushed. "I have to go, I have a patient. I'll see you at the party, I
hope!"
"Bye bye!"
Joy turned from the videophone to see a young, dark-haired boy standing in
front of her.
"How can I help you?"
"My Scyther needs medical assistance, and my other Pokemon could use a
little re-energising too."
Joy slid a form from under the desk and chewed her pen. "Name?"
"Tracey Sketchit."
"Pokemon?"
He dropped five Pokeballs onto the desk.
***
While waiting for his Pokemon to be healed, Tracey was approached by the
president who said, simply, "let's watch a little movie, a history of two
days ago".
And so they did.
On the screen, a Joy is grim-faced and sweating, clenching her teeth. She
looks up at the doctor, eyes sad.
"I'm sorry, Joy," he says, his calm narrowed eyes unwavering, "there have
been complications, we are going to have to perform a caesarean."
She bites her lip and nods.
"This will only take a second," he reassures her, slipping the needle in,
"and when you wake up, you'll have your new baby child."
Joy manages a smile before she falls asleep. The smile is frozen on her
lips. The doctor motions to a nurse with the same narrowed eyes. She darts
forward, plucking a dark bundle from a box at the foot of the bed. A new
baby.
The two perform the surgery in silence, flicking furtive glances around
them. They are in a private room, and the door is locked. When they have
finished the operation, there are two recently born babies. Joy's new son
is taken and thrown roughly into a box on the floor - as though it were a
worthless object. In its place, the bundled baby is unwrapped and held
carefully by the doctor.
The nurse grabs the box and leaves the room. The doctor remains, watching
Joy and her child who is not her child, a pink-haired, blue-eyed little
girl. A Joy.
The screen changed to static, the scene gone. Tracey just looked at it
blankly.
"Did they kill Joy's real baby," he asked, emotionless.
"We don't know."
"How did you get that footage."
"We have ways, Tracey."
"They were Rockets, right."
"Yes."
***
"We're ready for you to go now, Tracey."
Tracey nodded and gulped, straightening the collar of his dull yellow Team
Rocket uniform. The president handed him a small card.
"Rocket Gold Member
Billy
#223"
On the card was a small photo of himself, computer modified. His eyes were
different... he turned back and asked, "what if they don't have a member
called Billy?"
The president smiled. "Tracey, have more faith. A young man, similar to you
in age, was rumoured to have died last week. He was a member of Team
Rocket. That is his card, with your photo."
"I still don't really know what I'm supposed to DO."
"Trust your instinct. Be a watcher. You are the only one who can pull this
off."
Tracey nodded, slid the sunglasses over his face, and went to find Team
Rocket HQ.
***
"ID," gritted out the guard at the door. Tracey calmly held up the card.
"Oh, special agent Billy!"
Special agent? repeated Tracey mentally. Great, what am I supposed to know?
"Yeah?" he said, intelligently.
"I heard we'd lost a gold member last week! I coulda sworn it was you!"
"You know how rumours are," said Tracey, coolly. His voice, usually made
rather mild and bland, now reverted to its true tone. As hard as any
Rocket's.
"Go right on in," said the guard, "the meeting won't start for another
hour, but you know where the bar is."
Tracey nodded. He didn't, really. He walked in and looked around, very
casually. Even Watcher Intelligence Dept. couldn't tell him how to navigate
here, he would have to find out for himself.
Without much other choice, he called out his Venonat.
"Venonat," he whispered, "try to find something unusual."
Venonat nodded and its eyes glowed. It looked around in all directions,
antennae twitching furtively. Finally it squeaked and Tracey followed it
through corridors - all empty - to a locked door.
"Of course it'd be locked," muttered Tracey, recalling Venonat and pulling
out another Pokeball. Marril appeared, and at an order, ice beamed through
the door, making a small crawlspace. Tracey hoped it wouldn't be noticed as
he crawled through to the other side.
Tracey could instantly tell this was the room that was such a source of
secret, such a significance. It was poorly lit and poorly designed, with
benches, shelves, crates and machinery scattered haphazardly around.
These weren't what he noticed. What he noticed was that which was ON the
benches and shelves, in the crates and powered by the machinery.
A soulless, haunted pair of eyes watched him from the middle of the room.
They were human eyes; he realised this was Joy's real baby. But it was not
so human now; sharp, frightening claws hung from his tiny hands, and tufts
of fur grew from his - its? - arms and back. The child was trapped in a
long glass cylinder filled with a pink liquid that was continually bubbling
at the top. This bubbling was the only sound in the room.
In similar such cylinders, but these totally motionless, other babies
floated, girls, forming, growing. Some had tufts of pink hair, others blue.
Charts hung from the bottom of each girl. So this was the true origin of
Jennies and Joys. Did the nurses and police officers know themselves that
they weren't really sister-in-laws or second cousins? What was the benefit
of this?
"Marril," whimpered the Pokemon beside him, and Tracey had the sense to
recall it. It snapped him out of his stunned state, and he grabbed his
drawing pad.
Tracey was a good sketcher, but his pencil had not captured such things as
these before. An orange Squirtle with blue eyes and a tail flame gazed
sadly at him from behind cage bars. A crate of green Rattata, all
apparently sleeping. A Raichu the size of a Pikachu. A Sandshrew without
its armoured coating. A furless Meowth, licking cuts on its bare skin. Test
tubes and beakers and charts and photographs.
It was horrible, especially the gazes of the Pokemon on him. It was
horrible, and he didn't understand it. He couldn't understand it, and he
couldn't stand it. Against his better judgement, he pulled out some
Pokeballs and claimed every Pokemon in that room.
The humans, he did not want to disturb for fear of doing more damage than
good. But he knew Joy's baby was a fully formed child, and, swallowing
hard, he punched out the glass. The pink liquid spilled out over his hand,
burning him. He pulled his Rocket glove back over that hand and tried to
ignore it. On a hunch, he pressed a Pokeball to the baby's forehead. It was
drawn inside, and the ball blinked shut.
Tracey stared. Manufacturing Pokemon, he thought, beginning to understand.
Improving on them instead of training them through friendship. This is
disgusting.
Hearing something outside the room, Tracey darted forwards and started
shuffling charts and documents into his bag. There was a click, and the
door opened. He dove behind an empty crate and instantly realised how
futile that was, being at least thrice the size of it.
The lady who entered wore a black, low-cut, short black dress. With the
standard Rocket symbol on the front. She saw Tracey immediately, and
narrowed her eyes. She slammed the door behind her.
Tracey's eyes widened. Prima!
"Well," she said coldly, "a thief in our own ranks. How ironic. How did you
get in here?"
Tracey shrugged and straightened his sunglasses.
"You look familiar," she said.
"I'm a golden member," said Tracey, "I'm allowed access here."
Prima narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, then nodded. If she had recognised
Tracey, she had not recognised his real voice. He hoped he had guessed
right, but her expression darkened terribly, and she lunged forward,
grabbing him by the collar.
"Nice try, twerp," she hissed. He couldn't believe that this was the same
person as the Pokemon Master. "You KNOW you can't escape me. Elite Pokemon
cannot be defeated, and after being in here, you must die."
Tracey paled, but tried to keep his composure. Elite Pokemon. That meant a
Pokemon battle. He knew her strategy! Go with the flow! So if he could go
against the flow...
Tracey grabbed one of his own Pokeballs and sent Sandslash.
"A ground type," she smiled, "how amusing. Kid, you're gonna get a real
treat. Learn the technique of a true champion. Cloyster!"
Tracey mentally smiled. Step one: have the opponent underestimate you.
"Sandslash, go close to Cloyster."
Sandslash ran to Cloyster and clutched onto the front of its shell.
"Cloyster, Aurora beam!"
"Dive to the side, Sandslash!"
Step two: know your opponent's source of power. Then use it against them.
Cloyster's means of attack was from the spikes on its shell, and it found
it difficult to fire them at close range. It shot at Sandslash and ended up
hitting itself when the other Pokemon escaped.
"Good, Sandslash," said Tracey, "now pry the shell open with your feet!"
Prima was confused, as Sandslash dug its claws into the crack of Cloyster's
shell. It pulled hard, and pried the shell open.
"Now, spike attack! Don't be scared! Ball up!"
Sandslash rolled into a ball and dove right inside Cloyster's shell. Prima
was horrified, knowing Cloyster could not attack there, and was helpless.
And so it was; the shell ricocheted back and forth before rolling to a
still. Sandslash clawed its way it; Cloyster had fainted.
Tracey was quick to act and tossed out his Caterpie.
"String shot that woman!"
Caterpie obeyed as Tracey recalled Sandslash and grabbed his bag. Prima
sputtered angrily.
"You cheated," she snarled, "those weren't real attacks."
"Of course I cheated," he said calmly, "I'm a Rocket."
He grabbed Caterpie and they left, leaving her tied up.
***
"To the bar," muttered Tracey, smoothing his hair back, "calm, cool and
collected. Hey, I'm drinking underage. Maybe I can find something that'll
relax me. No, I can't... not on this mission."
He idly glanced in the windows of doors he passed. Rows and rows of cages
holding Pokemon. He cringed and turned his head. Not his responsibility...
not this time...
He slipped into the bar, where a number of other Rockets were talking,
laughing, and generally getting sloshed.
Trying to look inconspicuous, he climbed onto a stool and was automatically
tossed a beer. He just stared into it, feeling sick, and hoping he could
last the half hour until the meeting.
"Hey, it's the twerp!"
He only *just* managed to stop himself from whirling around, and thus
drawing attention to himself. Very slowly, very casually, he turned to see
what was going on, mentally disciplining himself, like a Watcher ought.
His eyes widened behind the sunglasses as he saw Jessie and James standing,
hands on hips. Looking right at him.
"Excuse me," he said, voice gravelly, "are you talkin' to ME?!"
"What are you DOING here, Tracey?" snapped Jessie. People were beginning to
look. Tracey glared back at her, making a cold smirk.
"I don't have to take these accusations from lowly white members. I don't
know who you THINK I am, but I outrank you, so be polite you little insects."
"Yeah? Who are you?"
Tracey flashed his ID, and the duo were surprised.
"Billy?" asked James, "I thought he was dead!"
"I don't die that easily, you little parasite. You call me twerp again,
you'll find yourself in SEVERE trouble."
Tracey tried not to laugh. He was rather enjoying himself.
Jessie sputtered. "But you look just like - Billy didn't have hair like
that, did he?"
He sighed patiently and spoke in the voice one would use for a small child.
"It's called a change of personage, you idiot. You know, when you try to
evade the cops?"
Another Rocket in the room, also wearing a gold Rocket uniform, narrowed
her eyes. "If you're a gold member, why are you worried about the cops? We
got Jennies in the palm of our hand, right?"
"I'm not worried," amended Tracey, "I just prefer not to have the hassle of
dealing with them. Wastes my valuable time, you know how it is."
They seemed to accept that, and he went back to staring into his mug. He
thought of what she had said, and things made a glimmer of sense. Rockets
wouldn't want interference from police. If they could manufacture their own
police, who would... but some Jennies had tried to stop Team Rocket... he
was confused again.
He sat, trying to look as discreet as possible, ears missing nothing of the
conversations around him. He kept one hand on the strap of his bag. He was
aware of Jessie and James staring suspiciously at his back and smiled to
himself.
After what seemed like hours, the door opened and a young man stood in the
doorway, flicking long dark hair from his face. Tracey thought he looked
vaguely familiar; had he seen him on television? Yes! He was fighting Ash
in Pokemon League.
With a flamboyant gesture, the man said, "everybody, ze meeting hall is now
open for anyone who wishes to go now."
Tracey gratefully slid out of his seat and left the room with a few others,
following them to the meeting hall.
He waited there, sitting inconspicuously near the front, but not too near.
He wanted to see, he didn't want to be noticed. Other Rockets filed in and
the hall gradually filled up. Nobody spoke to him. A pretty brunette
squeezed into the seat on his left, and a girl who resembled Jessie - ? -
on his right.
The meeting started, and he sat, constantly on his guard, but paying
intense attention. This had to be important to invite all Rockets. A man at
the front talked about Rocket objectives, recent successes and failures. He
pointed out members of the audience, he showed slides of Pokemon that had
recently been taken. Then he moved onto the point of his talk.
"We Rockets are embracing new technology. We are putting it to good use.
Right now, we're learning to utilise the tool of genetic engineering. We
won't have to worry about Pokemon strengths and weaknesses - they'll all be
strong. There will BE no weaknesses for our Pokemon! We will dominate the
field of Pokemon. We will beat all the weak trainers who think they can
make it big just by "being friends" with their Pokemon."
The audience sniggered.
"We have infiltrated everything, and nobody suspects! We have our people in
Pokmeon League, in high class society, in gyms and Pokemon Centers! Have
you ever wondered why Officer Jennies never take any action against us
unless there are members of the public around? Have you ever wondered why
Pokemon disappear from Pokemon Centers? We can control non-Rockets! We are
extending our reach to the stars above!"
Everyone started cheering, stamping the ground and whistling.
"Giovanni - the big cheese himself - is absent today because he's at a gym
leader conference! Power positions, ladies and gentlemen! And there is more
going on under the surface than any of you can imagine. Gold and platinum
members have some understanding of this, but for those of you who don't,
I'll tell you now!
Our scientists are introducing breakthroughs. Have any of you suffered
defeats? NO MORE. Time for defeats is over. We will eliminate those who
stand in our way with our advanced technology. Pokemon are the key to the
world, and we have the best ones."
People from the crowd occasionally shouted words of agreement. Tracey
paled. This was sounding dangerous.
"Today, you will each get a new Pokemon, each given a special something by
our labs. Also, sign up your current Pokemon for treatment and our
scientists will genetically modify them into true champions! ALL Rocket
Pokemon will be improved upon! To tell us more about these processes, I
give the floor to - huh?"
A lady stomped up on stage, pulling strands of web from her hair. She
looked absolutely livid. She glowered into the audience and snatched the
microphone from the speaker's hand. If Tracey was pale before, that was dun
compared to now. He scrunched down into his seat. It was Prima.
"Today I discovered someone who is not for the cause! This insidious little
worm was in our labs, stealing from his own kind! Stealing from US!
Snooping around behind locked doors and almost getting away with it!"
Her eyes scanned the crowd furiously, and finally locked onto him. Duty was
important, but it wasn't enough to keep him from being just plain scared now.
"THAT! THAT'S HIM! The dark haired kid in the fifth row!"
Tracey shivered, but stood up, edging out of the corridor. Prima hissed,
"stop him!"
But Tracey wasn't running for the exit, he was heading towards the stage,
at a leisurely pace. He looked calm, but his mind was in a panicked overtime.
TRACEY, he thought furiously, THINK. Your Pokemon would get instantly
demolished. You're right in the enemy's hands. NO, don't think *that* sort
of thing. Get out. Get out. You can't, they're faster. You're nearly at the
stage, better think of something.
He calmly took the mike from Prima and said, "Prima has been wrongfully
accusing me. I would expect that from someone of inferior rank. She may
have the fame, but she's no better than the rest of youse."
Prima scowled and responded by pulling the sunglasses from his face. The
crowd gasped as they saw his eyes - wide, friendly, normal - not a Rocket.
"Looks like we have a spy," said Prima, enjoying herself, "and we know what
we do to spies, of course."
There was the clicking sound of a dozen Pokeballs being enlarged at once.
Tracey bit his lip and looked into the crowd for inspiration. He saw
Meowth, Jessie and James' partner, eyes widening in recognition. Jessie
nudged James, and they both smirked. Meowth. Meowth. Persian. Viridian Gym
leader - that had to be Giovanni. And Giovanni's eyes were...
"Wait," he said, "you don't get it. I'm no spy. I was under secret orders
from the boss himself, and you interfered, Prima. This was to be kept a
secret, but now you have forced me to reveal myself - I am the boss' son."
Tracey mentally crossed his fingers as he saw stunned expressions cross
everyone's faces.
"Idiot," said Prima, "the boss doesn't HAVE a son."
"That's what you were to believe," said Tracey, warming to his role, "it
would be dangerous to have my true identity known."
"Who's the mother?" came a voice from the crowd, and a number of other
Rockets laughed. Tracey rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, like I know that."
Everyone laughed more, and Tracey grinned. He was playing it right.
"I don't have time to waste with you, Prima," he said, "I have important
business to attend to."
He moved quickly backstage and left, as fast as he could without looking
suspicious. His heart was pounding. I'm gonna get grey hairs already, he
thought. Time to go. I may not have found out everything, but surely they
can get some results from what I have.
Tracey took off down the hall, then heard a roar from the auditorium. In
his experience, collective roars from bad guys were never good news, and
sure enough, he soon saw people spilling out, looking for him.
Sliding around a wall, he tried to find the best exit. Having no idea where
he was going, he just ran, and soon ran right into Butch and Cassidy.
"Well, the twerp who ruined our plans," said Cassidy, "we'll gladly fulfill
our obligations to the team."
Instead of a Pokeball, she suddenly had a gun in her hand. Tracey took a
step back, and bumped right into another pair of Rockets behind him. He
didn't recognise these two.
"Let's see how your big mouth gets you outta this," said Butch.
Tracey tightened the grip on his bag and wondered if it was a good idea to
try to slug Cassidy with it. Probably not; the safety catch was off on the
gun.
At that moment, there was a loud crash, and pieces of plasterboard started
falling. Then the ceiling actually caved in. The Rockets instinctively hit
the deck, Cassidy's gun going off as she landed. They covered their heads
with their hands as pieces of room flew in all directions. Tracey stayed on
his feet, knowing it could be dangerous but wanting to have his wits about
him. He saw a few other Rockets round the corridor from the corner of his
eye, having heard the commotion.
Tracey looked up and jumped out the way as a Charizard bulldozed through
the ceiling and landed on the floor in front of him. It panted, looking
tired, but too prideful to give up. Ash and Misty were sitting on its back.
He stared, amazed.
"C'mon, Trace," said Ash, grabbing his wrist. Tracey, supporting his bag
with one hand, accepted the help and jumped onto Charizard's back.
"You guys," he said, stunned, "what're you doing here? Don't you know this
is dangerous?"
"Hahaha," said Ash, "danger is my middle name. Anyway, I couldn't just let
you go off like that."
"We stick together," added Misty simply. "Even if you've got larengitis."
Tracey sweatdropped. "This is my real voice. But... thanks."
Charizard flapped its wings weakly, trying to take off, but all of them
were intercepted by a terrific blast of water which knocked Charizard over
and sent them all sprawling to the ground. Tracey looked up to see Prima
with her Dewgong and Slowbro.
"Prima!" gasped Ash. "What're you doing?"
"Go with the flow, Ash," she smirked, and had Dewgong encase him in ice.
Misty was horrified to see her idol with Team Rocket, but acted quickly,
bringing out Psyduck.
Slowbro read its trainers mind and dragged Tracey's bag towards it. Butch
grabbed Tracey's ankle, groaning, mumbling something incoherant. Tracey
looked down and saw that he had been shot in the leg. Cassidy sat staring
in horror, alternating between looking at the gun and her teammate.
Charizard's tail flame was sizzling quietly, barely burning. Ash was frozen
solid, Pikachu was torching the ice cube, Misty was shouting at Psyduck to
do something, some Rockets were unconscious, having been hit by falling
debris, and others were shouting advice. Prima stood in the middle of it
all, cackling nastily, and Tracey gritted his teeth, playing tug-of-war
with his bag.
In short, it was chaos.
Togepi waved its arms, and suddenly the corridor was full of fire. Tracey
felt the heat blazing over him, but it didn't burn him. Prima and her
Pokemon, as well as other Rockets, were charred and blown down by the pure
force of it. When the tempest stopped, everyone looked at Togepi, sitting
innocently in Misty's arms.
Misty grinned sheepishly. "I told you guys it knew Metronome!"
"Toge toge!"
"Steal that Pokemon," snapped Prima, "someone steal that little runt! It's
perfect for us."
Misty clutched it to her chest protectively. Pikachu hugged Ash, who was
now defrosted. Ash smiled shakily and recalled Charizard.
Tracey scrambled to his feet, clutching the bag to his chest.
"Come on, Psyduck," called Misty, prodding the duck Pokemon as the trio of
trainers began to run down the corridor.
"Come back here," ground out Prima, using the most ineffective, overused
phrase in movie history. And just as in the movies, they paid her no mind.
Footsteps soon came behind them, as they rounded a corner and crashed right
into more Rockets.
"This is ridiculous," muttered Tracey, "Ash and Misty, you two get out of
here while I fight."
"Don't be stupid," said Misty, "we're not going anywhere."
Ash nodded in agreement, and Tracey frowned.
"You guys are in way over your head. I'm trained for this, it's my JOB."
"Your job?"
"Pokemon watchers watch out for the wellbeing of Pokemon."
"He's a Watcher?!" sputtered Mandy, "go, Golbat! Exeggutor! Kill him!"
"Go, Cloyster," said Tyra.
And a dozen other Rockets followed suit. Suddenly the corridor was so
crowded with Pokemon that nobody could even see each other. Pikachu let
loose with a thunder that torched everyone, and a falling Dragonair slammed
right into Misty, knocking her out.
If I get out of this, my life is so going to be in jeopardy, thought
Tracey. Everyone knows who I am. No disguises or tricks left.
Psyduck looked at Misty, then up at the crowd of Pokemon. Its eyes glowed.
Togepi whimpered, and moved its arms.
The walls exploded.
Series of flashes.
Darkness.
Dim figures moving.
Tracey opened his eyes, and immediately felt for his bag. He had let his
guard down?
The bag was still there. Things came into focus, and he sat up. He found
himself staring right into a pair of green eyes. Slanted at the edges, the
cruel curve.
"James," he gasped, jumping to his feet. He looked around. He couldn't see
Team Rocket HQ. Where was he? Trees. Shrubs. Perfect clear sky. Viridian
Forest? What happened?
He looked around. Ash and Misty were lying unconscious on the grass. Jessie
was bent over Ash, slapping his face, and Arbok was nudging Misty.
Pikachu stirred - Pikachu was still there, with Jessie and James around?
"What happened?" he asked, finally.
"Team Rocket Headquarters exploded," said James, gesturing back in the
general direction of Viridian City.
"You pulled us out?" asked Tracey, disbelieving.
"I don't want that genetic modification stuff," said Jessie, in a low voice.
He cast a quick glance back at them, and saw Jessie with one hand resting
on Arbok's hood. Meowth was sitting on James' head. They were Rockets, but
they could care about things too. They wanted their Pokemon to stay like
they were, even if they lost a lot.
"Pika," got out Pikachu, coming to. It blinked, then woke up. Seeing Team
Rocket so close startled it, and it thundershocked everyone. This
effectively woke Ash and Misty up.
"Wha-what happened?" groaned Ash, holding his head. Jessie and James were
gone.
***
When Tracey made it back to Watcher's Headquarters, everyone was amazed to
see him, and thrilled that he had fulfilled his duty. He was offered
promotions and bonuses, but didn't care for them. He would travel with his
friends, who came to look for him and nearly died with him.
They found out a lot. Misty became a Pokemon Watcher herself, but Ash
didn't let go of his own dream, being a Pokemon Master. A lot of Rockets
died that day, and a lot of Pokemon were freed. But the most powerful thing
to escape was the knowledge.
A lot of things made sense. But the most important thing to Tracey was what
he had heard Jessie say.
In this strange world, people might be programmed and born into their jobs.
But they were still people, and some of them still cared.
***
Joy looked at her new baby boy. A boy! And no pink hair, either. This boy
could be anything, anything!
Far away from this hospital, three children rode a Lapras, and knew it too.
They were happy.
