Chapter 51
It always comes back to Rats. Why even bother trying to talk to her at this point? Nobody’s going to come away from it happy.
You sit on the roof of the factory with Mewtwo at the far end, doing his meditation thing, and watch the sun come up. You kind of wish you knew how he does it, how he can turn so perfectly calm when he’s normally so angry. For you it’s not anger but anxiety, the constriction of your chest whenever you look down at Rats’ pokéball. You’ll let her out. Eventually. When the time is right.
Titan comes up ready to launch into an early-morning flight, and he talks at you mile-a-minute, something about the shadow pokémon, something about food, something very exciting. You try to keep up but can only get a vague impression of what he’s talking about before he’s off and soaring. A little peace, and then Thunderstorm arrives to inform you that it’s found some interesting machinery tucked away in an obscure corner and asking pointed questions about when you might have the power back on. As the morning unspools the metal roof warms to baking, heat shimmering up from it so the world around you goes wavy, retreats into mirage. You can’t pretend there might be a better time to let Rats out any longer. The better time would have been several hours ago. At last you grip her pokéball tight in sweaty fingers and press its center button.
Rats appears and immediately scrambles for a patch of shade, looking reproachfully out at you. Reluctantly, you join her. It is pretty hot under the sun.
Rats knows, obviously, that time has passed. Divel isn’t here. She regards you with an expression that’s too much studied calm. “You gonna tell me what’s up, or are you gonna make me guess?” she says. “Not that I don’t figure I’ve got a good idea already.”
You try to stand firm under her gaze. There was nothing you could have done to stop Mewtwo from recalling her. You’re not the one she should be mad at. “Mewtwo asked the human some questions and let him go,” you say. “Like he said he would.” And wouldn’t your life be easier if he would actually keep his word?
“Uh-huh.” Rats watches you for long seconds. You wish you couldn’t feel her judging you. You wish things could go back to the way they were, when it was just you and her and Absol on your island, playing, fighting, watching TV together. Not even thinking about your mission most of the time. “You gonna tell me the truth, Boss, or are you really going to go to bat for Mewtwo on this one?”
She won’t believe Mewtwo let Divel go without hurting him. Fine. But she doesn’t need to know everything. You avert your eyes and tell the truth, almost. “Mewtwo hurt the human when he was asking his questions. And when he erased his memory, it made him… funny. He might have taken away more than he needed to. I didn’t want to let you out because I knew you would be mean about it.”
Rats lets out a long hiss of air, maybe covering for a curse. “That’s a lot, Boss.”
“I don’t like it, either!” You already know what’s coming. You’re already so tired of this. “I couldn’t stop Mewtwo. You were there, and you couldn’t stop him, either! I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I know, Boss, I know.” Rats pensively chews a claw, gaze distant. “There’s gotta be a way, though. Think of something…”
“There isn’t another way. We need Mewtwo to erase people’s memories so they don’t find out about us. We don’t know where Cipher is–we don’t know where Mew is! We need information. There’s no way around that.”
“You’re going with ‘torture is the only possible option,’ Boss? Really?” That one’s barbed. That one stings. Rats seems to catch herself, turning aside with a sigh. She combs her claws through her whiskers a moment, then goes on in a more level voice, “I mean, if it was up to me I’d say we should have snuck around a bit. Checked out this Divel guy’s pad, seen if there were any clues there. Kept an eye on him, stayed out of the way. Saw where he went, who he talked with. Then looked into them for ourselves. Used your–you. Done a little impersonation. See if that got you in a few places you wouldn’t be able to go otherwise. Nobody needed to get hurt.”
“Mewtwo could see everywhere Divel went. All the people he knew, too.” You realize you’re speaking past-tense and hurry on, “And his way is faster! Cipher’s had Mew for too long. We need to be fast.”
“So speed’s the important thing now, when you spent how long hanging around at Indigo?” When you don’t answer that, Rats goes on, “You like catching the bad guys, Boss? Putting them in their place?”
Of course you like to catch the bad guys. That’s another reason Rats’ plan is bad: if you’d tailed Divel, snuck around his house, maybe even been him to talk to his friends, he’d still get to be out there doing bad things. Maybe Mewtwo has too much fun with it, but it is better to be doing something, to be stopping Cipher people. It’s obvious nobody else is going to.
You can’t say as much. Your chest feels heavy and hollow at the same time. Instead you ask, “What about Mewtwo? He’d never agree to that. He’d make you do what he wanted anyway.”
Another sigh from Rats. “I’ll be real with you, Boss. It’s horrible, but at this point I think the play is to get that guy back in his ball and keep him there. Until you find Mew, at least. We can handle this as a team, Boss. We don’t have to do it Mewtwo’s way.”
It takes a moment for the implication of her words to sink in, and then cold blossoms across your skin. You clutch your head. “No–no! We can’t! Now you said that to me and he’s going to see me thinking about it and he’s never going to let me get his ball again, and he’ll be mad! He’ll be so mad! He’ll be mad at me, and he’ll be mad at you!”
“Hey, whoah, whoah,” Rats says, holding up her paws. “It’s all right.”
But it’s not! It’s not all right! “You don’t know,” you say, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “You don’t understand. I could never get close enough to recall him if he didn’t let me. And if he sees us thinking about getting rid of him, he’ll get mad. He’ll probably hurt… He might hurt you, Rats. Really bad.” Even from what she’s seen of Mewtwo, she doesn’t truly understand.
Rats makes a frustrated chattering noise. “We can distract him, Boss. You only need a second. He can’t break the ball, right? He can’t send it off anywhere? We work together, we can get this sorted.”
“No.” Fight Mewtwo. She wants to fight Mewtwo. Even your entire team won’t be enough for a distraction. You wish you could just make her see. Make her see before she does something stupid and everyone pays for it. “Even if we got Mewtwo into the ball, Absol would never let me keep him like that.”
“She can complain all she likes. Not like she’s going to actually do anything about it.” Rats’ paw is staining pinkish, blood leaking from her chewed-on claw. “That’s a good point, though. Where is Miss Dark and Ominous, anyhow? Isn’t she supposed to have some kind of in with Mewtwo? Can’t she talk some sense into the guy?”
Still going on like there has to be some way out of this. Like she can just be reasonable about things and it will all work out. “Mewtwo doesn’t listen to her if he doesn’t want to.” Rats starts to protest, but you keep right on talking. She needs to listen. “I don’t like what Mewtwo does, but we can’t stop him. I know you think we can, but we can’t. And if you try, it will only make things worse. Don’t even talk about it, Rats. If you want to help…”
You take a shuddering breath. Rats gazes at you skeptically. “Go look around like you wanted to. You and Titan can go to Divel’s house and learn more about him, just like you said. You can do that with all the Cipher people. If you can find clues, if you can make things go faster, then Mewtwo will hurt fewer people. If you can find Mew your way, then good. You should do it. You can help. I have to go with Mewtwo, but he doesn’t care what you do. You can’t stop him. We can’t stop him. But maybe you can still make things better.”
For long seconds Rats merely watches, but then she inclines her body faintly in acknowledgement. “If that’ll help, then yeah, we’ll help,” she says. “But I don’t want to give up on you. I don’t like Mewtwo pushing you around, either. Getting you mixed up in all this. It’s hurting you, too, you know?”
“He isn’t going to let me go,” you say. “He needs me.”
“I’ll talk to Absol,” Rats says firmly. “We’ll find a way through this, right, Boss? Don’t give up just yet.”
She never wants to give up. You can only hope she’ll give way before Mewtwo breaks her. He’d enjoy that. There’s nothing he hates more than people standing up to him.
A sharp mental nudge sets your heart racing. Has Mewtwo been listening the entire time? All you can sense is his pointed interest in you joining him. “I–I have to go,” you say to Rats, and leave before she can even start to protest.
Mewtwo’s awake now and standing at the edge of the roof as usual, still and silent like he can’t see the stew of guilty thoughts churning in your head. You try to push them down, to muster your courage before you speak. You’re sure it looks pathetic to someone who can see inside your skull. “What do you want?” you ask.
We have new leads to follow, Mewtwo says. And I’m hungry. That’s an accusation. You need to get a refrigerator out here so Mewtwo doesn’t keep sending you halfway across the region to get him food every single day.
Fiddle with your appliances some other time. We have work to do today.
“You found… more people? From Cipher?”
Certainly. Our little session yesterday was very productive.
Your gut clenches. “How did you even know about Divel? Why did you think he was going to be at the tournament?”
The noctowl, Mewtwo says idly. Not exactly forthcoming, was he? But he knows. He knows Cipher. One who died, and this one, that he saw often enough. It used to fight in those tournaments every week. Why did you think I agreed to attend that waste of time? Mewtwo makes something like a mental huff and gazes out over the desert, mind bubbling coldly. And I had to scrape the information from that bird’s memory. There’s no one who wants to help my mother. Not the legends and not the common pokémon, either. They’d rather keep their heads down and let humans get away with whatever they please.
You imagine there was a good reason Noctowl didn’t say anything about Divel. Maybe he had a feeling what might happen if he spoke up. You swallow down bile. Hopefully Noctowl won’t notice Divel’s gone. Or care. He wouldn’t care, would he? It’s not like they could be friends. “He wasn’t fighting yesterday, though.”
No. He had an appointment at that bar. He knew he was going to miss most of the fights. So he showed up to watch the most boring part of the tournament and meet with his vile friends, and then he left to make good on a business opportunity. Selling stolen hover-cycles and perhaps helping to steal more. Truly, Orre has lost a valuable member of its society.
So Divel had friends, and they saw him right before Mewtwo got him. He was going to meet somebody else, who now knows he didn’t show up. Those people are going to wonder. And it won’t just be Divel. More people will go missing. More and more, until Mewtwo finds what he’s looking for.
You worry too much, Mewtwo says contemptuously. There’s nothing and no one in this region that can threaten either of us. I’ve half a mind to put an end to this skulking altogether. Descend on Orre and let the humans know who they’re trifling with. Let them beg to offer up what they know. Let them plead that I’ll spare their lives if they deliver my mother to me.
Your mouth feels dry and sticky. “Mewtwo…”
Far better than relying on those “shadow pokémon” to do our work for us, the clone goes on. What was the nonsense the charizard was spouting? About a picnic?
The abrupt change of subject catches you off guard. “It was… it was the shadow pokémon saying they wanted to do something nice for us, I guess.”
The burst of emotion that cuts through the clone’s psychic field is like a scornful laugh. Wanting to do something nice for us. How quaint. The clone’s silent for a long moment, then finally says, Very well.
“What? You want to go?” Right after all that talk about tearing Orre apart?
I can’t imagine a bigger waste of time. But for now these pokémon are our best source of information. Unfortunately. I wish for them to remain cooperative. And if that demands we engage in these tedious social frivolities? Your shoulders want to twitch down into a shrug. We shall endure it. Until something better comes along. Until I lose my patience. The thrill of apprehension that races through you is surely all your own. Let them have their picnic, then. We will make an appearance. And then we will get to business.
You wish the shadow pokémon didn’t keep trying to invite Mewtwo to things. All that’s going to happen is him ruining everyone’s fun.
You can’t do anything but cringe after the treacherous thought flits through your brain. Fortunately the only response is a gentle ripple of amusement through Mewtwo’s psychic field. I assure you, I intend to have ‘fun,’ he says, and that might almost be worse.
It’s a miracle you find the place at all, having only Titan’s description of “the big rock outcropping that looks like a kyogre by the edge of the ocean” to go on. It’s the pokémon themselves who end up being the landmark you need to find the place. There are bags and boxes of food stacked behind them, a raggedy red blanket spread out over the rocks. Heracross raises a claw in lazy greeting when you come into view.
You leave your scooter in the shadow of an outcropping and cautiously make your way towards the shadow pokémon, suddenly shy. You’ve hosted picnics, of course, for Rats and Absol and some of your toys, but you’ve never been to one with cool near-strangers. At least you can have fun with your own pokémon, if nothing else; Togetic looks ready to explode with excitement at the prospect of joining the shadow pokémon again.
“There you are!” Hypno calls. “Where’s Mewtwo?”
“In his master ball,” you say, holding it up. “He can’t be out somewhere people might see him.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Noctowl says quietly. “But please… You’re among friends. Mewtwo will be safe here.”
He’ll be safe, but what about everyone else? You try to hide your grimace. Mewtwo wants you to act happy. Normal. As if you’re the one who might cause problems.
You drop the master ball, and Mewtwo takes shape. He stiffens briefly at the shadow pokémon’s calls of greeting, a spike of alarm setting your own heart racing. But after a moment he gets ahold of himself and says, Yes. Hello. I am… here.
“Well, come on, sit down,” Heracross says. She has an entire box of soda cans, and empty ones lie scattered on the blanket around her. “Want a drink? We got all kinds.”
A… drink.
“Sure. What’s your poison?”
There’s a flicker of consternation across the clone’s psychic field. Then, Water, I suppose.
“We got that.” Heracross waves a claw at a pack of water bottles behind her, which apparently means she expects someone else to get one. Hypno gives her a pointed look while she breaks one off and tosses it to Mewtwo, who catches it in a psychic grip. It’s weird seeing the top crack off and the bottle dump into his mouth without the rest of him moving an inch.
“Do you have lemonade?” Titan asks.
“Eh, I think I’ll have water, myself,” Rats says, and just like that the place is a bustle of activity. Titan gleefully tucks into the food–there’s all kinds, a big spread of meat and cheese and toppings for sandwiches, vegetables and fruits and chips and dips and pretzels and cookies. There are pokéblocks, too, and poffins in individual wrappers. Pokémon berries and even human berries, too: blue and rasp and straw and black. You release War into the ocean, and there’s a brief awkward moment when it becomes clear there’s no batteries for Thunderstorm, and Hypno’s beside herself with apologies and Togetic’s zipping overhead, cheering, while Mewtwo stands as if frozen at the edge of the group, staring at the boisterous gathering in front of him.
“That’s a lot of food,” you can’t help but say. Togetic crash-lands amidst the pokéblocks and starts shamelessly picking out all the sweet ones.
“Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly know how much a super-clone would eat,” Heracross says. “And psychics can usually put it away. At least this one can.” Hypno rolls her eyes.
You don’t even know what to try first. Options keep jumping out at you–a stack of pickles, wobbly Jell-o, what looks like some kind of salad involving fish that you just have to try because it looks so weird and gross–but Mewtwo’s just standing there, and he’ll probably get mad at you for taking something when he isn’t, as little sense as that makes.
“Did you have a good trip?” Noctowl asks.
Thunder gives a neutral flash of sparks, while Titan sprays crumbs everywhere saying “gooth,” but Mewtwo leaves the conversation iced over for a moment by replying, I was in my master ball, as always. I could barely sense anything of the world around me.
“It wasn’t bad,” you say quietly.
“That’s good,” Noctowl says. “We’re glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, it’s not every day an international celebrity shows up in our little region,” Heracross says. “Come on, you don’t have to stand way over there. Come grab some grub!”
Mewtwo approaches cautiously, as though worried someone might pop up and attack him–possibly from one of the food baskets, which he regards with undisguised suspicion. “What do you think of our ocean, huh?” Heracross asks. The low sun shines blinding off the tops of gentle waves. “Most people think ‘desert’ when they think of Orre, but we’ve actually got loads of beachfront property. Lots of sand, you know–we’re basically one big beach!”
I believe sand has to be in close proximity to water to count as a beach, Mewtwo says. At last he decides it’s safe enough to sit down and floats gently to a spot at the extreme outer edge of the blanket, behind everyone else. He settles himself in a too-stiff crouch, then starts sniffing at the food.
You pick a spot as far away from Mewtwo as you can and climb up on the rock. It’s sun-warmed, but the evening breeze off the ocean pierces right through your thin clothing. Noctowl perches above you, fluffed halfway against the wind. You’re in easy reach of the cookies, and take one, then two. They’re wonderfully chewy and sweet.
“Maybe some of you will join me for a swim later?” Hypno asks. “It’s lovely in the moonlight, and these two are never interested.”
“Water’s for drinking, Hypno. I don’t get wanting to dunk your whole body in it,” Heracross says.
Swim? Mewtwo considers, really considers, for several seconds. Perhaps. I have not swum before.
“Oh, wow, really? Well, you’ve got to try it, then! No place better than the ocean here. It’s nice and warm. Currents or something,” Hypno says.
“Oh, yes, the water’s perfect,” War says in his gravelly voice, waggling his tentacles for emphasis. “You should all come try it.”
“You’d better not be mean, War,” you say sternly. You don’t want to think what Mewtwo might do if the tentacruel stung him. “And I like swimming, too!”
No one was talking to you, Mewtwo says harshly.
“No, no, you’re both welcome to come along,” Hypno says. “The more the merrier, honestly.”
Mewtwo fumes for a second, but he seems to realize being overtly hostile towards you won’t win him any admirers. He gives the array of food a long, piercing look, and then a pile of sliced turkey rises eerily into the air and approaches him, pieces peeling off one by one directly into his mouth. Nobody acts like it’s weird, but you’re pretty sure it’s weird. Mewtwo’s bad at picnics.
Shut up! the clone snaps, but then his psychic field roils with confusion and embarrassment when the others turn to him. Not you, he mutters after a moment. You grin in triumph, but Mewtwo’s sure to take that out on you later.
“Now, you come from Kanto, don’t you?” Hypno asks. “Umm, well, I guess Mewtwo does. But the rest of you…?” You nod.
“Most of the pokémon on that cargo ship Cipher stole were from Johto, right?” Rats asks Hypno. She’d better not eat all the chips. You take another handful as a defensive measure.
“Yes, all three of us are from Johto. Really close to each other, actually. Heracross and noctowl both lived in Ilex Forest, and I was just north of there, near Goldenrod City. We were practically neighbors, but we never met until we ended up in Orre together. Life’s weird like that, right?”
“Oh, yeah, Cipher. All about bringing people together,” Heracross says and slurps from her drink. That’s another one down, you think with distant interest as she tosses the empty can away and wiggles another out of her box. Apparently she isn’t tempted by the spread of food. Hypno periodically takes a helping of this or that, and a bun lies in crumby shambles by Noctowl’s foot, along with a pecked-over pickle, but it’s honestly your pokémon eating the lion’s share. Togetic’s already plucked the chocolate chips off several of the cookies and is now entertaining herself by tossing pieces of lunchmeat to War, who rests in the shallows, and giggling whenever his tentacles snatch them from the air. She won’t be able to keep it up for long; Titan’s been merrily working his way through the meat, and the turkey and the ham are already gone.
“You were leaving Johto, then, when Cipher kidnapped you.” Rats is valiantly nibbling her way through Togetic’s denuded cookies. “Where were you headed?”
“Hoenn, same as most people on the boat. Going to look for work. Johto doesn’t have a lot of opportunities for pokémon outside of battling,” Hypno says.
“No job for me. Just thought an extended vacation would hit the spot,” Heracross says, flicking a speck of sand off the blanket at her side. “Somewhere nice and warm. Plenty of trees. Yeah. Woulda been great.”
“Why would you want to work?” you can’t help but blurt out. That’s a dumb grown-up thing, but it’s extra dumb for pokémon who don’t even need to work in the first place.
Hypno lets out a honking sigh, but it’s Noctowl who answers for her. “The wild doesn’t have room for every kind of pokémon. Some would rather try their luck in human lands. And if you don’t want a trainer and don’t want to live on the streets, you need to find a way to earn money.”
“There are some things that humans have that pokémon don’t,” Hypno says. “The kinds of things I was interested in, I couldn’t really find them out in the wild.”
Oh, that you understand. “Humans have TV!”
Hypno smiles faintly. “Well, yes. But for me it was more… Drowzee and hypno know a great deal about dreams. Dream interpretation is something of a sport among my people, and humans and pokémon both have always consulted us about them. They consider us seers and fortune-tellers. I learned everything my own people knew of dreams, but I wanted to know more. That meant studying with humans, who have a wholly different understanding of what dreams mean. I was going to a university in Hoenn to try for a degree there. I mean, I’m still studying, here, now. So I guess it worked out. There was just a bit of a… detour on the way.”
Humans corrupt everything, Mewtwo growls. Imagine pokémon deciding they need to seek an occupation. To participate in the human economy to survive. Humans would export their misery to all of us us. Creatures who have never known their sins are subject to them all the same.
“You won’t get any argument from me,” Heracross says, taking another loud slurp of her drink. “Work’s complete bullshit.”
“Some wild pokémon work,” Noctowl says. “Any group of pokémon needs different people to do different things if they’re all going to get by.”
“I mean, sure,” Heracross says with an airy wave of her drink. “We live in a society and all that. Even pokémon society. Unless you’re a scyther or something. Out hunting by yourself until you get real crazy and need to go find another scyther to bang. But you gotta admit that humans make a fetish out of work like nobody else.”
“How about Durant?” Rats asks.
Imagine selling yourself into slavery because your own society has no place for you, Mewtwo seethes. No doubt because humans despoiled your species’ home and left you all with fewer resources. I certainly hope none would be so shallow as to turn their backs on their heritage for something as frivolous as television programming.
He really can’t resist taking a dig at you every chance he gets.
“Well,” Noctowl says gently. “I don’t think we were planning to tackle such weighty topics tonight.”
“Yeah, probably best not to go there,” Heracross says. “Maybe another time, huh, Two? I’m with you on the absolute bullshit nature of all things human.”
“Right. Something more cheerful,” Hypno says brightly. “You’re supposed to be the most powerful psychic, Mewtwo. Do you think you could have carried off a whole cargo ship the way Lugia did?”
Easily, Mewtwo scoffs.
“That’s wild,” Heracross says. “So could you just, like, what, rip up a building and fly off with it?”
Certainly. Mewtwo’s oozing smugness turns your stomach. So much for your appetite.
“I don’t suppose you’d be up for giving lessons?” Hypno asks. “I mean, I’m obviously never going to be as powerful as you. Not even close. But I know I have a lot to learn about telekinesis, and if there’s anyone who’s an expert in that, well…”
I’m quite busy, Mewtwo says musingly, overflowing with pleasure. But perhaps.
“How about punching lessons? You know punching, too, don’t you?” Heracross says, shadowboxing the air.
Certainly, Mewtwo purrs. But my punches are augmented with psychic force. They would be difficult for you to replicate.
“Eh, worth a shot.” Heracross sips at her drink, clearly amused. You catch sight of Rats chewing very determinedly on a piece of carrot. At least you aren’t the only person struggling to listen to this.
“Okay, but aside from blowing stuff up with your mind, what do you like to do?” Hypno asks with a laugh.
What do I like to do?
“Sure.” Hypno turns to you. “Or what about you? How do you like to unwind?”
“Well, I like to fight a lot,” you say, somewhat dubiously. “But I also like to watch TV. And go swimming. And play pretend. And make sandcastles. And cook! And…” You’re momentarily stymied. There’s too many things.
“We fly together!” Titan says in great excitement, wings stretching wide. “And I love to dig in the sand. There’s so much sand around here, it’s great. And the mountains!”
“There is a lot of sand,” Hypno says with a laugh. “What about you, Mewtwo? Do all of you hang out and watch shows together or anything?”
I train. I hone my skills. I research. I was made to serve humans. I have never been allowed the luxury of hobbies. And I hate the human invention of television.
“Ah, sorry,” Hypno says after a chilly moment of silence. “I should have thought…”
You should have, Mewtwo says. You can feel his foul mood as well as everyone else as he levitates the weird fish salad over to himself.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore now,” Noctowl says softly.
“Exactly. You escaped,” Heracross says. “And I bet your minders would have a hell of a time getting you back.”
“Right. And since you’re free, you can finally catch up on all that! Decide what to do with your life!” Hypno sounds a bit frantic to correct her earlier faux pas. You could have told her she’d only make it worse. “Maybe we can find some shows–err, music? Something you’d like.”
I’ve chosen what to do with my life, Mewtwo says. And that is to seek my mother, who remains imprisoned yet. Perhaps when I’ve succeeded, I’ll have time for frivolities. The clone’s tone is hard. But I doubt it. I have greater plans than simple rescue.
“O-oh. Well. That’s good. Having a goal and everything,” Hypno says.
“That’s right!” You can’t stand to see her looking so morose for the crime of annoying Mewtwo. “Like you! You’re going to be the best hypno… hypnopsychitrist!”
Hypno smiles faintly. “Well, maybe not the best. But a good enough one, I hope.”
“Yeah. And you ever want to unwind, Mewtwo, you just hit us up, huh? I’d be happy to show you the ropes of relaxing. That’s what I do best!”
Perhaps, Mewtwo says coldly.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed our dinner here, at least.” Noctowl gestures broadly with a wing.
The food is passable, Mewtwo allows, and you wince. He says you need to get them to like you, but he isn’t even trying. Or worse, this is how he thinks you’re supposed to act to get people to like you. The surge of anger and consternation from the clone, directed at your own private thoughts, leaves the shadow pokémon looking queasy and uncertain.
“It’s great! I love it,” you say valiantly.
“Oh, absolutely,” Rats says. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a proper picnic. This one lived with me on an island for a few years, though, so we got plenty of beach time in.” You relax slowly as Rats steers the conversation with stories from your old life. It’s bittersweet, reliving lazy days and Rats’ many naps before everything that happened to bring you here. The shadow pokémon seem relieved to have a safe topic to discuss, and even Mewtwo’s resentment ebbs away as time goes on. Maybe he’s glad no one’s trying to talk to him.
The sun’s sinking below the water, the sky shading to dark purple above, when Hypno asks, “So, how about that swim, then?”
“Oh. Yeah! Let’s go!” With the sun sunk the air’s gone abruptly cold; you wouldn’t normally feel inclined to all your clothes off, much less jump in the ocean. But Hypno said the water was warm, so… You approach cautiously, until you’re close enough for the waves to roll in around your ankles. It is warm, not like the ocean you’re used to. The ocean back home.
I’m coming, too, Mewtwo says. You stumble as he sweeps past you, the strength of his psychic field actually shoving you aside. The clone keeps himself hovering as he moves out over the waves, the water rippling and thrashing below him, stirred by psychic power. Now, this swimming. How is it done?
“Well, I can’t float, so I’m just going to walk in,” Hypno says. She’s got her pendant tied up tight around her hand. Doesn’t want to lose it, but doesn’t want to leave it behind, either. “But you can drop in from overhead, too! It’s fun to jump in if there’s somewhere deep enough to do it.”
“I’m good at swimming!” you say. And you are, with fingers and toes webbed and gills opened down your neck. You can feel in the water even though you can’t see, its currents pressing against your skin, telling you what’s moving around you. You dodge a tentacle that snakes towards your ankles, then another slashing towards your chest, and send a cheeky wave of energy back at War, just for trying that. You dive deeper, where the tentacruel can’t reach, where everything’s black and closing your eyes doesn’t make a difference.
Even down here there aren’t wild pokémon. There were nothing but regular seagulls along the shore. It’s a pretty spot, but its emptiness seems to yawn before you, putting a thrill of fear through your chest. You surface back into moonlight, where Mewtwo still hovers above the water, prodding it suspiciously with a toe.
“Not bad,” Hypno says to you. “You can hold your breath a long time, huh?”
“I can breathe underwater,” you say smugly.
I can hold my breath a long time, too, Mewtwo says. He sinks lower, submerging his entire foot, then yanks it back, lighting up your head with discomfort and indignation.
“Whoah, hold on, there,” Hypno says. She’s paddling easily along at the surface. “If you don’t like water, you probably don’t want to go all the way in. Even touching it is a big step if you haven’t tried swimming before.”
I’m no coward! Mewtwo snarls. He stops floating–he must want to get everything over with in one big plunge. And plunge he does, with a prodigious splash, as all his muscles decide they want to get away even after his mind’s insisted he’s going in.
You sink, brain screaming panic that you can’t get air. You don’t need air, you remind yourself. You’re fine! It’s Mewtwo’s distress getting to you. You shoot forward and grab Hypno, who’s mimicking Mewtwo’s thrashing movements, and pull her back to the surface. She gasps in air but must still feel she’s drowning, since that’s what Mewtwo’s blaring into both your heads. You grimace and try to keep ahold of her; fear’s making her strong, much stronger than normal. She’s going to sink you both if she doesn’t stop.
“Mewtwo!” you yell, but he’s still panicking. The water isn’t even that deep. It’s hard to concentrate with Hypno trying to climb over you, but you hold her firmly, with all your strength. “War!” you yell. “War, grab Mewtwo!” The tentacruel’s gurgling and swaying himself, struggling with the alien sensation of drowning. “Grab him! Come on!” The tentacruel’s many arms thrash, churning the ocean’s surface, limp and uncoordinated. A few manage to wrap around Mewtwo, which only increases his panic.
Starbursts explode across your vision as Hypno’s elbow connects squarely with your nose. By the time you shake the last static from your vision War’s managed to haul Mewtwo into the air, a couple dozen tentacles wrapped firmly around the clone’s body. For a few seconds Mewtwo keeps flailing and clawing at nothing, but at last he hangs quietly. He’s dripping, he’s miserable, but at last he’s realized he isn’t going to drown.
In your arms Hypno calms down as well. “What… What was–?” she says.
Let go of me! Mewtwo roars with a blast of psychic energy that rips him free of War’s tentacles and slams the tentacruel against the seabed. You and Hypno go under, too, Hypno with a cry and more struggling as water closes over her head. When you resurface, Mewtwo floats high overhead, glowing with furious psychic energy. We’re leaving, he says. Now! Get over here, all of you! The last directed at your pokémon, who are picking themselves up off the sand. His attack hit them, too.
You stroke back towards shore, towing Hypno along with you. She’s struggling in your grip, but less frantically than before. “No, I can… I can swim on my own. I’m all right.”
You hope she’s right about that, because Mewtwo turns and floats away, dreadfully fast. “Mewtwo, wait!” you yell, heart skipping as you remember what happened in Agate village. He can’t run off by himself again, he can’t…
“You don’t have to go!” Hypno calls. “I’m sorry, I should have realized–”
Pyrite Town! Mewtwo’s mental yell makes you flinch. Pyrite Town, now! Get over here or I’ll fly there myself! There’s sand under your feet and you dash past Heracross, who lunges for you like you’re somehow the problem here.
“Hang on, hang on!” she’s saying.
“I’m coming!” you yell. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You frantically throw your clothes back on, recall War.
“Thank you for inviting us,” you say to the Musketeers, who close in around you, babbling apologies. “We really need to go now, though. Yes, right now, I’m sorry–”
Move! Mewtwo snarls, and the shadow pokémon flinch back. You see your opening and run, pelting pell-mell for your scooter. Your pokémon fall in around you. “You can stay,” you tell them breathlessly without even slowing down. “You can stay. Be nice to the shadow pokémon. Be friends.”
“Like hell, Boss,” Rats says. “We’re coming with you.” Which means back into their pokéballs, and then Mewtwo, too. You point the master ball at the sky and are relieved beyond relief when he disappears in a flash of red.
That gives you a moment, if only a moment, of quiet. Enough time for the dread to come creeping over you along with the desert cold. Pyrite Town. He can’t mean he’s going to go after another Cipher person now.
Except he must. He’s mad and he’s going to take it out on someone, and if that someone was in Cipher he can at least pretend it was about something other than his anger. You throw your leg over the hover-scooter and grip its handlebars tight. The nubby surface of the rubber handholds digs into your palms. It’s all right. It will be all right. You’re prepared. You know how to handle it this time.
You wish you could stop and talk to the Musketeers. You wish you could reassure them that it’s not their fault, that’s just how Mewtwo is. But the clone’s fury is so intense you could swear it’s heating up the master ball’s plastic shell, and if you stay any longer, all that anger is going to be directed at you. Mewtwo wants to go, so you have to, and fast.
“Sorry,” you tell them, trying to forestall further conversation. “We’ll see you again, really. Mewtwo’s not mad at you, he’s just…” Mad at absolutely everything? Like this all the time? You don’t know what to even say, so you leave it there, pulling the hover-scooter in a tight circle and then putt-putting away into the night, the shadow pokémon’s confused calls ringing out from behind you for what seems like a very long time.
It takes you a few seconds to realize that it’s gone quiet. You were staring out the window, on alert for anyone who might show up and cause problems. It’s not like Mewtwo was doing anything interesting. You only even notice by realizing that you feel irritated for no reason. Irritated but quizzical, puzzled by something.
There’s nothing outside to be puzzled by. You turn around.
Mewtwo’s watching you closely, levitating the corpse–ah, no, it’s breathing. Not a corpse. He’s just letting it float for the moment.
You’re doing it again, he says. Your mind’s gone strange. You did it before, didn’t you? With that other Cipher human. You changed the way your thoughts worked. Why?
Why. He’s asking you to answer for someone else. Someone you don’t understand. “I think the other me finds these situations stressful. Unpleasant.” You give the comatose and bloodied human a reproachful look. “I find it unpleasant, too. I’ve told you enough times that this is stupid. But I am not… Frightened? I don’t know. The other me makes a big deal out of everything.”
Mewtwo’s annoyance flares and dies again just as quickly. Stupid? As though you have the first shred of intelligence, he says without rancor. His gaze is intense, his interest avid. What does he find so fascinating about you? Perhaps how someone like you can spend so much time masked by your idiot other persona?
Yes, Mewtwo says. It is fascinating. I suppose I can understand why you bother with that other form, now and again. But why use it so often? Why don’t you stay this way? You’re well aware it’s better for you.
“It’s like I told you: it’s hard for me to understand humans and their things when I’m myself. And this is a human world. The other me doesn’t like to give up control, either. They…” You have to take a few seconds to think, to try and put it into words. How your other self thinks. How they reason about the world. Mewtwo lets you have your time, no attention paid to his dripping plaything. “They like being what they are,” you decide finally. “They don’t like… me. Being me. They think they’re the real one.”
Of course they would, Mewtwo says disdainfully. You should stay like this. You’re a much more interesting person to talk to than that other creature.
“I will for as long as I can.” That’s how it always is.
The human in Mewtwo’s grasp makes some vague noise of discomfort, and his attention snaps away from you, his eyes dilating, all focus back on his prey. You go back to looking out the window. You think that conversation might have been strange. Was it? Perhaps. Doesn’t matter. Soon enough you’ve forgotten all about it.