Chapter 46

One day passes, and then another, and in the night that follows Mewtwo comes upon you in slumber.

You're no one, nameless, sleeping dreamless. No need for a name, for anything more than a human appearance, halfheartedly lifted from the first person you saw in passing. You aren't the one who delights in human identity, who would spend hours constructing some fictional life for yourself. You slipped into human guise and went to Fuchsia harbor to stare at the boats, to try to figure out which one would take you to Orre, and failed and left disappointed. You returned to the forest, ate your dinner without drama, looked up at the stars alone. And then you woke to something entirely different than morning.

The air in your lungs is hot and choking, almost solid, and every breath comes labored. Was it the strangling sensation in your chest that woke you, or was it some noise? Some word, maybe, from the dark shape standing over you, eyes glowing beside the stars?

Your heartbeat speeds, your muscles tensing, but you force yourself to lie still and wait. There's no hope of escape. The only hope is that Mewtwo's in a good mood.

I am not, the clone says, although his psychic field carries no more than a faint flicker of his caustic anger. He feels curious more than anything--intrigued, even. I've gone to great lengths to find you. Wasted valuable time. Every day my mother suffers, and meanwhile you do your best not to search, not to do anything at all. You avoid me. You're actively* unhelpful. I had thought even you wouldn't sink so low.*

"I didn't want to see you. Ever again."

You coddled child, Mewtwo sneers. I've lived my entire life among those I did not wish to see* again. I survived. And for a cause as great as this, I would never choose my own comfort over what was *needed.

You say nothing. Mewtwo can read your skepticism in your head as well as he would aloud. And still, he isn't angry. He's almost contemplative, observing you.

You're different than when I last saw you, he says. What happened? I expected some tedious outpouring of emotion. Grievances. The usual whining. But you aren't just keeping your mouth shut. You aren't even complaining inside your head.

"I can be less emotional. I'm better this way. But it causes problems when I have to be around humans. Pokémon too, sometimes."

Is that so? Mewtwo considers you for a long span of silence. You focus on breathing. You're getting accustomed to Mewtwo's psychic field; you no longer feel you're suffocating. I certainly prefer this. The sniveling was beyond tedious. But you're still a useless wretch. Disgusting that my mother must rely on you, of all things, for her salvation. There's no malice in his words. You wait.

You understand that you can't hope to escape. Yes. You do. It was only luck that saved you before. Excellent. So good that we understand each other. Now, I imagine you can guess what I intend for you to do next?

This is harder. You expect him to cause you pain, one way or another. Another battle?

You are* different. And annoying in your own way.* Mewtwo gives the kind of mental sigh that makes you tense, expecting a skull-splitting slap of psychic power as payback for his irritation. It doesn't come. I see that I will have to be very explicit. You will take me to Orre. I don't care how, only that you make it happen. Is that a simple enough assignment for you?

Maybe if you change. Your other self will know what to do. If you'd become them earlier, perhaps you'd already be on your way, with Mewtwo left fuming on Kanto's shore. But if you change, Mewtwo's presence will be much worse. You might not be able to get anything done at all.

Your more emotional side, was that it? Mewtwo says, with the sharp edge of a sneer. I suggest you do whatever it takes to keep yourself under control. I fear I might have to provide encouragement otherwise. He can sense your confusion. I will use as much force as necessary to compel you.

Ah. Yes, that makes sense. There's nothing to be done about it. "Where are my pokémon?" you ask. "They were going to find you."

I have them here, of course. Mewtwo raises a hand, and four pokéballs rise to orbit his fingers. How did you think I found you?

You didn't know, of course. Mewtwo makes another sigh. They told me where you were. Did you really think your slaves could keep your plans from me?

You hadn't really considered it. You watch the drifting pokéballs intently. They glow a faint purple, propelled by Mewtwo's psychic power. There would be no point in trying to retrieve them.

No need for that. You may take them. Mewtwo flicks the pokéballs at you with an idle gesture. You're too surprised to catch them and can only gather them off the ground, one by one. They insisted they be returned to you. I will ensure you handle them responsibly. For now, they're yours.

You nod and set the pokéballs into the clips on your belt. You have no idea why Mewtwo would be so generous, and get the sense that the reason is important. But you can't guess and can't bring yourself to wrestle with it.

"I'm ready to go."

Indeed? Just like that? Mewtwo laughs for some reason. I do* like this part of you better. Now, there's one last matter to discuss. Namely, how I will ensure that you don't simply toss my master ball overboard, or refuse to release me when we reach Orre.*

You couldn't do that. You need him to find Mew. Absol's seen it.

Oh, but I wouldn't put something so stupid past you, especially not if you got wrapped up in your emotions. It doesn't matter. The guardian will look after me.

The guardian--that's what he calls Absol, isn't it? And she's there, yes, hanging back in the shadows. Her expression betrays no opinion on Mewtwo's proclamation. Is she happy to serve as Mewtwo's guardian? Sad, resigned? You could never tell, and you suppose it doesn't matter, either.

Do you understand?

"I do."

More laughter. Excellent. I will grow impatient if our journey is postponed, and the guardian will release me if you confine me longer than necessary. I suggest you don't dawdle. With a gesture, his master ball swoops towards him--it was over with Absol, you realize. The ball pauses, hovers a second, then nudges Mewtwo's outstretched arm. The clone's sucked away in red light, and his mind goes with him, leaving the air still and cool again.

Absol steps in to take the ball before you can even think to do so: unhurried, but swift and matter-of-fact. She turns back to you with the master ball caged behind her teeth, and in the weight of her gaze you feel impatience. You said you would leave, didn't you? It's time.

"Let's go, Absol," you say, and turn towards the city. You can only imagine what your other self will do when given control. It won't be dignified, and it'll probably be stupid. But for now, anyway, you can enjoy the meander of the road, the cool night air, the lights on the horizon. No point worrying about the future. Where you are, right now, on the road to Orre--it isn't so bad at all.

---

Ten days until Orre. That's what was advertised, but boat schedules are always approximate. Bad weather, shipping lane traffic, problems at the port, any number of things can cause delays. Maybe if you're lucky, a big storm will send the boat down. Not even Absol could blame you for losing the master ball to the sea then. Or maybe Lugia could return, pluck this ship right out of the water the way it did the S.S. Libra, and Cipher will end up getting Mewtwo. Not your fault. Couldn't be helped.

Call it ten days, then. And seven pokéballs, six of them scattered across the bedspread in front of you and one between Absol's paws, where it radiates irritation. You lie on your stomach, chin flat on the covers, and stare at your pokémon's dormant forms. You can't bring yourself to open even one pokéball.

Absol hasn't told you off for trying to leave for Orre alone. She didn't scold about how long it took to actually arrange your journey, once you changed back to your normal self and things really came crashing down, the knowledge that it was Mewtwo who'd put you up to this, that he was coming with you, that you'd never gotten away from him at all. And she isn't saying anything now that you're on the boat, and the boat is in motion, and time is trickling away towards your arrival in Orre, and still you haven't let any of your pokémon out.

At least Mewtwo can't be out on the boat. No, not even in your cabin--you insisted on that, and blessedly Absol agreed. There are people all over the place on the ship, and one of them would be sure to notice an overwhelming psychic presence. Maybe Mewtwo would be okay if he drew his psychic field in tight, kept it from stretching much beyond himself, but even then, any other psychic pokémon riding along would notice. So he can't be out and you, at least, have a little while longer without him.

You... Who are you? You had to come up with a name and face to use for this trip, someone plausible and not suspicious. You didn't want to use the same thrown-together disguise as the one the great Nathaniel Morgan saw you in, a person who didn't fit. But you didn't have time to come up with somebody really good, either. The right way to choose a new person to be, a serious one to use long-term, would be to daydream, try on ideas in your head before putting them on your body. What did you like about your other selves, and what did you want different? What should your new person's favorite color be, and what would they like to eat?

There's no pokédex now to guide you, and you had too little time for proper make-believe. So now you are Melanie Roth, neither very young nor very old, of average height and build, hair indifferently colored. You never died and you never lived and right now you don't want to do anything but lie here and think unhappy thoughts, because all that's going to happen now is things are, somehow, going to get worse.

You can't lie here forever. You know that. At some point you'll have to get up and leave, or they'll drag you out of here, maybe, and dump you out onto Orrean sand. What you need to do is think of what you're going to say to your pokémon when you let them out, which you'll also need to do at some point. The problem is you don't want to think about that at all, and so here you lie.

You stare at one of the pokéballs on the mattress, reach out and roll it under your palm. These new pokéballs haven't accumulated enough wear for you to tell them apart yet. This could be anyone under your hand. Many trainers, especially kids, decorate their pokéballs with stickers or paint or markers, make them their own, each special for its occupant. Sometimes they ask the pokémon to do it themselves. But most people who've been training for a while don't bother, can tell their pokéballs apart by feel. Melanie Roth can't tell her pokéballs apart, but she hasn't done anything special to help herself with that, either. She's not any kind of serious trainer. That feels right.

Who do you have? Does it matter? It's not like there's anyone you even want to see right now. You roll the pokéball under your palm one more time, then lift it up and look at it in your hand. No particular hurry. But no point waiting, either.

You realize who you picked even as the light's still spilling from the pokéball because there's a lot of it. Titan makes the small cabin seem even smaller, ducking his head and drawing his tail in close, a nervous gesture. His eyes roll side to side to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, but there's only a moment of nerves when his gaze settles on you. By now he's used to seeing someone completely different with his pokéball each time. "Where are we?" he asks when you don't speak.

"On the boat to Orre."

"Oh. So we are still... going there."

"Yes. Titan... Titan. What happened with Mewtwo?"

The charizard cringes, and a flash of dread and anger at last pulls you from your unhappy stupor. You prop yourself up on your elbows while Titan says, "He was really mad. At you, but also at... everything. He's scary."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Titan shakes his head. "No, no. I was afraid he would, but he only yelled and then recalled us. We had barely even gotten there. He froze us right away. Nobody said anything except for him, but he kept yelling in my head."

"He froze you?" You're still wary. Mewtwo doesn't usually hurt pokémon, not like he does humans, but he must have been angry when he saw Titan and the rest.

Titan nods curtly. "With his psychic powers. I couldn't even feel him before he came flying out to see us, and then I couldn't move. I could hardly even breathe. And then he started yelling." Titan shivers, a long motion that rattles all the way down his spine, his tail flame dancing. "He's scary," he says again.

"He is," you say darkly, and sink back to the bed. It could have been worse, anyway. Much worse. All in all you should probably be happy.

"You left us behind," Titan says after a long pause, hollow sorrow in his voice. "You didn't even say goodbye."

"Titan, I..." What can you even say to him? The charizard's pleading look cuts through you more surely than any of Mewtwo's attacks. Poor Titan has always followed you without question. Even before you died. He's the only pokémon who would even defend you when the great Nathaniel Morgan's team said mean things. He would never leave you behind.

But you left him. You didn't hesitate for a second, and forgot about it once the moment had passed. Inconsequential. That was the other you, the part of you you need precisely because it doesn't care, but that doesn't matter. It's still you, and "you" was the one Titan watched vanish even as he was trying to talk to it.

"I'm sorry, Titan," you choke out. You don't want tears now, stupid tears for what you didn't care about then and won't, again, when you go back to the way you were.

Because you have to. You won't be strong enough to face Mewtwo again otherwise. You wish you could change back right now and pass the boat ride serenely bored instead of twisted up with regret and apprehension. You don't want to have this conversation, the same conversation you'll need to have again, with Rats and with Thunder and War and even Togetic and Duskull. And Absol is still there in the corner, watching. You don't want to talk now. You don't know when you're going to be able to talk like this again.

"I'm sorry for leaving you and everybody. And before when I ignored you or I didn't care what happened. I can be like that sometimes. It helps me not be scared or sad or anything, but it makes me mean, too. I keep doing it because I... feel bad. I keep feeling bad, ever since Mewtwo burned down our house. I don't know how to deal with it otherwise."

Titan snorts out smoke and flares his wings, tail-flame crackling. Some apology this is, putting him even more on edge. "I don't understand," the charizard says hopelessly.

Of course he doesn't. You've barely had any time with him at all, and you almost never needed to call on your other self when you were living on your island. Absol and Rats have at least been around long enough to see that other side of you. "You can ask Rats. She knows about it. She can probably explain better than I can. Or Absol." Did that last bit come out bitter? Maybe. Everybody is so much better than you at everything. "It doesn't really matter. I shouldn't have been mean anyway. I can't help it when I'm like that, but I should have... I don't know. I don't know if I could even change it. But I am sorry and I know it's bad and I don't want to do it again." Your throat closes up, and you have to force the last words out. "But I will."

Thin streamers of smoke drift from Titan's nostrils, and he shifts uncomfortably in the cramped space. "Are you okay? Maybe we could go outside? I don't like it in here, either."

You try to smile and keep the tears in at the same time. Yes. Right now he wants to talk about anything but what would make his trainer cry. "We can go outside, but we're on a boat. There's a lot of water."

Titan hesitates, but when a fidgeting wing bangs up against a bracket light, he nods firmly. "Yes. Let's go. Let's... see."

You lead the way out onto the deck. It's blazing sunny, and the wind hits you square in the face, cool sea breeze sharp against your sun-warming skin. Titan squints in the light, but now he can stretch up to his full height and spread his wings, their vanes rattling in the wind. This is a cargo ship that only takes a few passengers, not a cruise ship--not a lot of people want to cruise to Orre--so there's no one sunning on a beach chair or sipping an umbrella-stuck drink, and no pool to lounge around even if you wanted to. There are a couple older women near the edge of the upper deck, chatting determinedly despite the wind, but no one else.

Titan's been on boats before, and you have, too, in past lives, but never anything so big. At the rail you look down and down and down, a whole building's-length down to where the water froths against the side. The ocean sparkles under the sun, flat and brilliant blue forever and ever in every direction. You could almost imagine you've come unstuck in time, unmoored from the world the moment land receded from sight. One spot is the same as another out here.

Titan peers over the railing, too, and no doubt his opinion on all the water is less positive than yours. "Orre is a desert, isn't it?" he asks.

"Yes. It will be just like this, except with sand instead of water." Miles of it in every direction. There's even a boat like this in the middle of the sand, out where Lugia dropped it. It must be something to see. You try to muster enthusiasm for going to see a boat in the dry of the desert, but nothing comes.

Titan grows slowly bolder, leaning far over the railing and flexing his wings as though considering a takeoff. Maybe he thinks he'll be able to see Orre if he flies up high.

It's so long since you've talked to Titan as your real self. You've been avoiding him, and he probably needs you more than ever. "Titan, I never asked you," you start, and then Titan looks down at you with calm, dark eyes, and that makes it worse, to see his patience and his unworried curiosity. "What happened when the elites took you away from me? When they questioned you? Did they hurt you?"

Titan snorts and rears back in surprise. "I don't... No. They didn't hurt me." He turns away from you, fidgeting with his claws. "I don't really want to talk about it."

You don't really want to talk about it, either. But Titan's been sad, and not himself. You have to do something about it. You're his trainer, whether he really wants you to be or not. "Well, that is okay," you say. You can tell yourself that you need to speak human here, that it's possible someone might overhear you despite the wind eager to snatch your words from the ears of all the nobody who's listening. But mostly human is just more distant than pokémon speech. You have to think about it, so it feels less like you. Right now that's easier. "It was scary, though. For me. I hope it was not so bad for you."

Titan looks morosely out over the water. "Titan," you say after a moment, "I know you are not happy. I know you do not want to be here. I am sorry. None of this has gone the way I thought it would. But if there is anything I can do to make things better, I will. I am trying to do what is best for everyone."

Titan gives you an uneasy glance. "I know. It's okay. I know you're trying."

"It is not okay. People keep getting hurt. You got hurt, and Rats, and everybody. And Mewtwo... Mewtwo is going to make things worse." He always does. "I guess I just wanted to say thank you for helping me, even though you do not have to. Even though bad things keep happening. And... even though you do not think I am very much like who I used to be."

"You're my trainer," Titan says automatically, which makes your stomach clench.

"You do not have to do things just because I am your trainer, Titan. And like I said, I have not been a very good one lately. What I was trying to say is, I want to be better. If there is anything I can do to help, tell me. You have helped me a lot, and I want to help you, too. Like a trainer is supposed to. If you want to say anything, tell me about anything, please. I want to hear it."

Titan nods, slowly. You think you do feel better. Lighter, a little. You don't know if it did any good, but you do want to try. Whatever your mission might require of you, you are still a trainer. And you do still need to try to be a good one. Want to. You want to be good. Especially if what Mewtwo has in store for you is anything but.

"So, did you... Did you want to talk about it? Or, or anything?" you ask after a moment of silence. Titan snorts and spreads his wings, membranes snapping and shivering as the wind fills them.

"I don't want to keep talking about things," he says after a moment. "Everyone's talking and talking, and things only get worse. I want to fly. I want to battle. I don't want to have to keep thinking about everything that happened. I just want to have fun again."

"Oh. Okay." You'd like to fly, too. And battle. And do anything but talk. You want to be able to feel like a child again. That's basically what Titan wants, isn't it? For you to go back to the way you were. You want to, too, even though you shouldn't. Once upon a time you had no concerns beyond what to scrounge for dinner and whether the heroes would beat the bad guy in the next episode of your favorite show. If you could pretend, and your pokémon could pretend, maybe things could be good again, at least for a little while.

"We can try, Titan," you say at last, and begin that try by mustering a smile, the best one you can manage. Your mind keeps going back to Absol, waiting patiently in your cabin with the master ball between her outstretched paws. But your face you can make still, and show only what you want. "You will like Orre," you tell Titan. "There are lots of mountains and sand for you to play in. It basically never rains! That will be nice, right?"

"It will be," the charizard says. He might even look hopeful. Your smile must be working. "How long until we get there?"

Ten days. It's ten days. Plenty of time. "A little over a week, and I do not think you will have to go back into your pokéball the entire trip unless you want to. You can fly around as much as you want, and War can swim in the ocean, and Rats will like the food..."

Now you might even be starting to feel excited yourself. Orre is coming, whether you want it to or not. But for a little while you have nothing to do and nothing to fear, and maybe in that time you can have some fun again. It's been a long time, like Titan said. And right now, nothing sounds better.

"Everybody else is still back in the cabin," you say. "Come on, we should go get them!"

---

Nine days until Orre, and it's time to explore the ship. You're allowed to go almost anywhere you want except through the endless crates stacked on deck, dozens deep and packed in close. So top to bottom you go, and stem to stern, from the churning propellers to the cutting bow.

You go way down into the belly of the ship, where the engines roar so loud the crew makes you wear heavy-duty earmuffs, even though of course you don't need them. You watch the motors spin and churn and imagine the ship like some massive pokémon, its mechanical guts roaring while it swims endlessly across the sea.

Up on the bridge you watch how the captain works, overseeing huge banks of controls that look like they belong on a spaceship alongside paper maps and wooden instruments. You watch incomprehensible numbers flicker on screens, lines scrolling past in weird colors, and think of taking all this over, locking the crew away and then driving the ship off into the sunset, wherever you want, living off the supplies in its containers. Not because there's anything you'd want to escape from, but only because it would be fun.

Titan spends most of his time sunning out on deck or flying overhead. Meanwhile you let War out to enjoy the ocean below. From your position on the deck it barely feels like the ponderous boat is moving, the empty ocean around you offering no sense of progression, but you're actually going fast enough that War has trouble keeping up. You let him swim, though, and you want him to swim. He's not going to like Orre at all. He should enjoy this while he can.

So it's mostly Rats who comes with you when you explore the ship. It's the perfect place for her, with all kinds of railings and struts to climb, narrow spaces to squeeze into, abandoned corners to nest in. Sometimes she goes off by herself, and you imagine her traversing the whole ship through its cracks and crannies and mysterious channels. The sailors are always on the lookout for stowaways, but you wouldn't be surprised if there are a few rattata who've sneaked aboard; it's just the kind of thing they do.

Right now Rats stands beside you outside the bridge, spotting for other ships in the distance. She's got her nose up into the wind, which blows her whiskers back and her fur all around so it sparkles in the sun. "Can you even smell anything out here?" you ask.

"Nah. It's all just salt." She leans up on her back paws anyway, sniffing.

Titan's an orange dot ahead. Here where you are, it's sunny, but the charizard's framed by an unnerving mass of gray cloud.

"Big guy looks like he's feeling a bit better," Rats says.

"I think so," you say. "I hope so. He does like flying."

"He does." Rats turns her head out of the wind, fixing you with a solemn look. "You left us behind, Boss."

You clutch convulsively at the rail. It's like the gusting wind's blown every last bit of warmth from your body. "I, I know. I am sorry. I told Titan I was sorry. I did not mean it, I was just being, you know, not like me. Because leaving was going to make me scared."

"Yeah, not like you." Rats is still studying you. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Things have been bad lately," you say.

"For sure. I get why you don't really want to deal with everything, Mewtwo and all. I mean, I met the guy, and wow. But you can't keep hiding from it forever, you know? And trying's making you an asshole."

You grip the railing tight, tight, not caring if it bends under your fingers. "I do not want to talk about this right now, Rats. Titan wants to have fun for a change, and I do, too. Once we get to Orre I will have to deal with Mewtwo again, and everything else. So can we not do this now? I am tired. Going to Orre... it is supposed to be fun. It ought to be fun."

Rats doesn't say anything. You're about to leave her there, head down to the lounge, maybe. Going back to your cabin's no good; all you'll be able to think about in there is Mewtwo.

Then Rats says, "So why were you thinking Orre would be fun, Boss?"

You give her a wary sidelong look. "Well, it is Orre. It is cool. Everybody rides hover-cycles. They go really fast! And they have shadow pokémon, which are like all mutant with their eyes glowing and stuff. And they attack people! And there is all kinds of technology, since they do not have normal pokémon."

"Mutant violent pokémon, huh? Sounds like a good time."

"Come on, Rats. Lighten up. It probably will not even be like that anyway." You scowl. "It will probably be boring. I bet we will not even meet any shadow pokémon."

"Yeah, I thought they were all gone. All... purified, was it?"

You don't even know where she would have heard about that. Rats doesn't really follow the news. "Yes. There was a kid who caught all of them--he stole them from the bad guys! Then he made them good again." If only there were some way to make Mewtwo be good. He's not a shadow pokémon, he's probably worse than one, but who knows? It's not like anybody's tried purifying him.

"Well, that's good," Rats says. "But it sounds like you might be right about us not meeting anybody scary. Gotta admit, I'm not too disappointed myself. After the last few weeks, I'm ready for a vacation."

For a moment you stare, confused. She's playing along? Like Titan wanted, you realize. Maybe, yes, she'd do that for him.

You take a deep breath. "What about you? Are you excited to go to Orre?"

"Might be a little warm for me," Rats says. "But I bet nighttime in the desert is nice. Rats like the dark, you know? Sleep all day, party all night. And Orre's supposed to have some real nightlife, am I right?"

You laugh. "Rats, you do not even like partying. You would probably just sleep some more. Sleep all day, and all night."

"Hey, it's my vacation, isn't it? Let a rat sleep over here. Maybe the best thing about Orre would be not having to see it at all, you know?"

"Maybe if you want to be boring. I want to see everything! There is a stadium way at the top of a tower, and you are supposed to be able to see all of Orre from it. It has one of the fastest elevators in the world, or it would take forever to get to the top! That is where I want to go." The stadiums in Orre are huge, maybe because they always do double battles there. Double the pokémon, double the space, right? "There is even a whole mountain where you fight your way to the top. It is a volcano, and the big stadium is right over all the lava!" The way Blaine's used to be. "They say Ho-Oh even shows up to bless challengers sometimes. She flies all the way from Johto! I have never seen Ho-Oh before, barely even on TV."

"All right, all right, sounds like there's plenty of stuff for you out there. Shadow pokémon or no." Rats scratches her chin with a hind foot, pensive. "It's a while before we get there, though. You must have some fun things planned to pass the time, right?

"Well, I mean. Umm, it is a big boat. That is kind of cool." Not as cool as a proper cruise, with jet-skis and magic shows and everything. You've seen a lot of commercials on TV, and they look fantastic. You watch Rats, wary. You don't know how much to trust her pretending, or how long it will last.

"For sure. Lots to explore. But I was thinking, you know, what about a battle on the high seas? There's that arena up on the top deck."

"Oh. Yeah! Maybe one of the sailors will want to fight. There is a pretty tough-looking primarina. I think one of the other passengers is a trainer, too, but I do not know what kind of team she has." You had wanted to try that arena. A battle on a boat would be really fun! "You want to fight for real? I thought you would want to lie around all day."

"I might. I was thinking more about that flying oven of yours. You know he wants to fight. And it's been a long time since he's gotten to battle someone who isn't one of us."

"You are right." That's perfect. Battling would make Titan feel better. You're sure of it. But you can't quite believe this, can't quite believe that Rats is going to forget about everything. When does she ever forget? "But Rats, are you really... Do you really not care? About, about leaving you behind, and everything?"

"I did meet Mewtwo, you know," Rats says, and your body goes icy. But Rats keeps going, as though it's no more than casual truth. "Let's get our fun where we can, Boss. We've got a lot coming up, don't we? Let's just say I think I've got a better idea of where you're coming from now. We could all use a break."

"That is good," you say after a moment, although it doesn't feel good. "I do want to take a break. I want to have fun and, and. And actually have an adventure. For once."

"I know, Boss. We all do, I think." She leans over to nudge your arm with her snout, but you keep looking out over the water, still not happy, even though being happy is the entire point. "The rest can wait. For now, let's worry about where we are, okay?"

"Okay." You can not think about Mewtwo for a few days. You were doing fine until Rats decided she needed to say something. You can go back to that again, no problem. You squeeze the railing, trying to convince yourself. The sun shines down. The waves churn below, and Orre's nowhere in sight. You still have nine days. "Okay. Let us go find Titan."

---

Eight days until Orre, and then seven, and then six. The ship shakes and bounces its way through storms, rocking so violently you can't even stand up. At first it's fun, like being on some kind of carnival ride--you put up your arms and make fake screams when the ship rolls so hard your stomach drops. The walls rattle and rain pelts your porthole window. The pokémon stay in their pokéballs, except for Absol, who has none, and Rats, who seems to enjoy the turbulence as much as you.

But there isn't much you can do, and finally even you get bored of not being able to walk down the hall without getting thrown into the wall. You lie in bed and read about Orre, its endless sun and parched earth, and start to wish for it, even more than you wish the storm might delay your arrival. The longer you're in your cabin the more aware you are of Mewtwo, the drawer where you're sure you can hear his master ball rolling with the ship, knocking against the sides.

By the second day you can't stand another hour inside and stumble out into the storm. You make yourself heavy, so you don't go sliding when the deck pitches and rocks. You make yourself warm against the wet and wind. And you cling tight to the rail, staring at the gray water far below, rucked now in dramatic troughs and surging hills, waves like you've never seen them. You they must be as tall as houses, made small only by the boat's immense size. You look for as long as you can stand, waterlogged hair slapping you in the face and icy clothes plastered against your skin, and as soon as you've dried off in your cabin you're thinking of going back out there again, where all you have to fight are the elements. Being inside your own head, and knowing Mewtwo is only barely outside of it, is somehow worse than a bit of wet and rain. And time keeps passing by.

Five days until Orre. The ocean's warm enough now that they fill up the tiny pool in the rec room with seawater. You swim a little, but the novelty doesn't last long. You swim in the ocean all the time, and a pool, even on a boat, simply isn't that exciting. But at last the weather's clear enough for Titan to be comfortable outside, and you join him up on the top deck for battle after battle.

Your first couple opponents are curious, reluctant, but as word spreads people start lining up to challenge you and your charizard. Titan keeps to the air as much as he can, evading sturdy sailor-pokémon, challenging a passenger's noivern to an overhead fight. Puddles dot the arena, whipping up in glistening spray when Titan swoops down low, evaporating in dramatic puffs of steam when his fire lands among them. The two of you are out there all day, until the sun goes down and even past it, Titan's flames lighting brief flashes of action in washes of fiery light and shadow. You're out there until your neck aches from tipping back to watch the flashing scales overhead, and your face aches, too, from smiling.

Four days until Orre. You battle more, of course, War and Thunderstorm and Rats taking their places in the arena now. Titan gets a fight or two in, but mostly is too tired to do more than stretch out on the sidelines, blowing contented smoke while he watches the others take their turn. You're tired, too, and eventually leave the pokémon to it, go out and wander the ship, up to the bridge, down to the depths, pacing out along its length. And when there's nothing left to interest you in the parts of the ship where you're allowed to go, you visit the off-limits ones instead. You creep through shadow around the endless ranks of metal crates, all anonymous, all mysterious. What could be in them?

You cut a hole in one, a small hole. It's all full of electronic bits and bobs, circuit boards and bundles of wires. Do they go together to make something, or are they just being sold as they are? In another crate, alarm clocks shaped like chikorita. You like those. You take one. Here, potions! Perhaps for the shelves of an Orrean pokémart. And in this crate, cereal, box on box on box of it, all of them identical. You'll take a couple of those, too, even if they do have raisins.

You spend a long time down there in the dark, here and there dodging sailors, carving your way into crate after crate.

Three days until Orre. It's okay. You still have three days. It's a while before you arrive.

It's been over a week now and Absol hasn't said a word, although she's always there when you go back to the cabin. In anyone else, that would be creepy. With Absol, that's just her being herself.

You still have three days.

Two days until Orre, and land appears on the horizon. There was no one shouting "land-ho!", only an announcement over the intercom. You stand out at the rail for a very long time. Orre's a black stripe way off in the distance. The boat won't even get there today. But now Orre's shadow is out across the water the same way Mewtwo's shadow grows longer inside your cabin. Rats nudges you away from the rail, tries to draw you into a game of hide and seek, but you keep catching yourself turned back towards that dark strip of land.

That night there's a barbecue out on deck, crew and passengers laughing, whole pigs roasting on spits. Titan gets half of one all for himself, and devours it to much horrified fascination. You can't eat anything, always feeling eyes on you: Rats' gaze, concerned; Absol's gaze, silent. And always you can feel Orre at your back, a dark mass of land grown dreadfully larger, glowing with lights beneath an orange-washed and smoggy sky.

One day until Orre, and you do nothing. Out of the cabin, then back in again. There's a young couple on the top deck, taking pictures of themselves with Orre in the background. You stay away from them, clinging to the rail as you watch Orre draw ever closer. It's got color, now, and bristles with buildings. Smaller boats zip past low to the water, big boats like yours rumbling slowly by. Here and there a sailboat slices through the waves, sail gleaming metallic with solar collectors.

The couple's discussing where to get dinner in Gateon Port. On land. That evening, after you dock. You go back into the cabin and put away your toothbrush and your chikorita clock, but then you're back out on deck, watching Orre's approach. The buildings are getting bigger. The captain's on the intercom, cheerfully talking about docking. You have to pack. You have to... do something. The pokémon are back in their pokéballs. Your dirty clothes are stuffed into your suitcase. Somehow people are leaving, the boat has docked and they're getting off, and still you aren't ready.

There's someone knocking on the door of your cabin. "Hello? Ms. Roth, we've arrived. It's time for you to disembark."

"I am coming! I am almost ready!" you yell in sudden panic. There's no more time. No more delay. You've arrived.

They're knocking again, louder this time, and how long has it been? How long have you been standing there? "Ms. Roth! Do you need help?"

"No! I am fine, I just need to get one last thing."

"You have five minutes, Ms. Roth! Five minutes and then we'll have to send Boris in to get you."

"Me?" Some rough pokémon voice from the far side of the door. "You're going to make this my problem?"

Five minutes. At four and a half you open the drawer. The master ball rattles to the front, coming to rest menacingly in a corner. Ten more seconds and you put your hand out. Five more seconds. Your palm rests on the smooth plastic top. Your fingers close.

Not even one second more. A tiny voice pipes up at the back of your skull. Is it time?