“ . . . . . Duplicate it, you say.”

“As many times as you can.”

Kurt shook his head. “Even if that were possible, I can’t expect to do anything in here. That Officer Jenny woman comes to inspect my cell every day, she’ll find any new item that I’ve got.” He shook his head a second time, with a defeated expression. “I can’t even be angry with her. She does seem to feel sorry that I’m in here, after all the years we’ve known each other in this town.”

Is that right? Hmmm . . .

Kenta put his hand through the bars of Kurt’s cell, a solemn expression on his face. “I can free you, right here and now,” he said seriously, as Kurt looked at him. “But afterwards, you’ll have to be on your guard like never before in your life. You’re going to be visited by the police again, and criminals too, along with all sorts of other people you’ve never seen before. And you will have to deal with all of them in the exact right way, to avoid being imprisoned again, or worse. Nevertheless, you may be the difference between a free Japan or an enslaved Japan, in the near future.”

Kurt grasped Kenta’s hand immediately with both of his own, placing the Master Ball back in his palm. There was a gleam of excitement in his glazed old eyes. “Now, who do you think I am?” he asked gruffly, mirroring Kenta’s expression with a wrinkly smile. “When trouble arises, I don’t hesitate for a moment. Throw your worst at old Kurt, and just see what happens!”

“That’s the attitude I remember you by.” Kenta turned away from Kurt’s cell and looked down the prison hallway at the other cells containing offenders of the law. “Then I’ll be back in a minute to get you out. But before I go . . .” They’re all Rockets. Leave it to Team Rocket to make us require an entire police station for pokémon-using felons alone. “You guys heard everything, as I intended you would. Now you know what’s going on. What you choose to do with this information is your call. My name is Kenta Daitan, and as of this moment, you may consider me your ally.”

“And why should we do that?” came a challenging voice from a cell one spot over Kurt’s. Kenta approached it, feeling a sudden tingle of hope for some reason, and beheld a rather short young man at approximately his own age glaring at him. “You got me arrested back during the Lake of Rage incident,” he said angrily. “What reason do I have to trust you?”

Hey . . . I remember this guy. He was the short kid whose mask was always slipping off because he couldn’t tie it on properly. At that time, he was only fifteen years old . . . and yet he owned a Crobat. That one creature proved to be one of the toughest opponents a Rocket has ever thrown at me.

“You’re right.” Kenta reached into his pocket and pulled out the lockpick Shatu had given him a couple months back. “How can you know if I’m really trustworthy or not? Well, the fact is, you can never be sure.” He pointed at the Rocket with the butt of his lockpick. “What’s your name?”

“ . . . Yosuke. Shimera Yosuke.”

Kenta smiled humorlessly. “I see. Well then, Yosuke, here’s what you can do now.” He flipped open the lockpick’s blade, pointing it in his own direction. “You can stab me right here and now, for being a lying troublemaker. Technically speaking, I’m already one anyway.” He snapped the knife blade back in, and flicked out the lock-picking device. “Or . . . you can wait until the right moment to break out of here. You know these guys better than me, so take the ones you trust with you.”

He pushed the lockpick through the bars, into Yosuke’s hands. The latter looked stunned, and Kenta felt a little surprised at himself for what he’d just done. Nevertheless, he kept up his calm act, knowing he couldn’t afford to show weakness. He’d rehearsed this scenario already, and now that it had come, he had to pull it off correctly. “You’ll have no pokémon once you make it back to the other side, but that can be arranged, Yosuke. Come see Kurt and Curtis at the last house west of the village, before Azalea Forest. To show that you’re a friend, give them the password, which is . . .”

Kenta made sure nobody heard him, as he whispered a single word to Yosuke. Moving again to leave, he stopped, nearly forgetting something, and backtracked to Kurt’s cell. “Sorry,” he said, putting his hands together apologetically. “I need to catch up with my brother once I’ve gotten you out, so I’ll leave you with this.” Once more, he transferred the Master Ball to Kurt, who shoved it into his kimono inner pocket. “I should tell you, there’s something you should know about that ball . . .”

***

Valtor stood outside of Hikita’s restaurant, leaning against the wall and holding the bagged chicken and rice in his left hand as he watched unblinkingly for any signs of movement from the police station. He didn’t know how much time had passed when two people finally did emerge from the front doors in the distance and headed in his direction. Straining his eyes to see who it was, Valtor’s heart leaped for joy when he recognized Kenta in the police uniform, and the elderly Kurt marching merrily alongside of him. He sprinted across the street and towards the two of them as fast as he could without dropping his food, and stopping in front of them, he leaned over and panted for breath. Kenta and Kurt looked down at him, and the elder turned to the younger.

“Your brother?”

“Yes, Elder. Could I talk to him for a few minutes?”

“Take as long as you want, but I need to get home!” Kurt bustled on past Valtor, positively glowing, and walking with a spring in his step. Both brothers watched him go, then turned to look at each other. Kenta glanced down at the bag in Valtor’s hand. “Oh, you got it! Well then, let’s go back in and eat, I’m starving.”

“Kenta, you . . . you did it!” Valtor jumped at his big brother and hugged him tightly, overjoyed and relieved to see that he’d made it back out with the old prisoner. “How were you able to get him past the building’s police?”

“Oh, simple,” said Kenta, as the two of them headed back towards Hikita’s. “I lied a little. Remember how Curtis was telling us about that recent decree, stating that nobody could make pokéballs without a license?”

“Yeah.”

“Decrees aren’t actually laws around here, they just become laws later, after going through the system. The police can only expect cooperation until then, but they’re not allowed to outright arrest anyone for breaking the decree. Azelia’s police force acted too early in this regard.”

“Hmm . . .”

They’d reached the restaurant door. As they went in and seated themselves at a table, a thought came to Valtor. “Could it be that they acted early because they’re afraid?”

“Afraid? Heh, they wouldn’t like you using that word.” Kenta opened the brown paper bag, and pulled out box of chicken and rice. It was still warm. “But I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Everyone gets nervous when new rules are laid down, especially the rule-keepers. And sometimes they get hasty, and break old rules to uphold the new.” He snapped the complimentary chopsticks apart. “Anyway, this is where my lie comes in. I told Officer Jenny that I was there on a certain Captain’s orders to release Kurt, because he was being unlawfully contained. She probably would’ve believed me even if she didn’t already know me.” Kenta shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. “I’ll tell you what, acting in the name of authority works wonders.”

Valtor dug into his own share of the food, surprised at his own hunger. After all his excitement in the past twelve hours, there was really no wonder that he was so hungry, but then again, he’d never participated in anything like this before. Guilt curbed his appetite a little bit, and for a moment, he felt his stomach give a small twitch; a threat to throw up. But he swallowed his food, and voiced his concerns quietly to Kenta so that nobody else in the restaurant would hear.

“Hey, um . . . is it really okay that we’re doing this? Lying and working in secret and stuff?”

Kenta looked at Valtor somberly, and somewhat sadly. He rested his head on his chin with a sigh. “No. No, it’s not okay,” he muttered in a raspy tone, looking somewhat disgusted. “Not when the government does it, and not when we do it. We’re both guilty.”

“Then what makes us better?” Valtor pressed. “Why can’t we continue to just be good, and let them alone be wrong?”

“Because I can’t go back to that anymore,” responded Kenta in a final tone. He had a haunted look in his eyes. “There’s no more ‘life the way it was’ for me, now. If they find me out, I’m a dead man. Remember what I told you this morning about Silph Corporation?”

Valtor thought for a moment. I only remember him saying he was betrayed there by Silhouette, and that Bolt rescued him from death at the end. I didn’t really question much about it after that.

He saw that Kenta was gazing at him, but with a faraway look in his eyes. “I didn’t really go into detail about it, did I?” Kenta asked softly, stirring his chopsticks through his rice. “We were too busy talking about what we’d be doing, and not about what had already happened. But we’ve got time now.”

“Okay.” Valtor chewed a piece of his chicken absently, his focus on his older brother, his only brother. “I’m listening.”

Kenta was in another place. The words he spoke were Valtor’s to hear, but he was no longer talking to Valtor directly. He was reliving the past.

***

The halting of the Silph elevator, along with the glowing matrix-dotted “3” just above the double-doors, confirmed for Kenta that he was on the third floor. He braced himself as the doors slowly parted before him, but had no idea what he would do. Outside, standing right in the center of the hallway, two figures waited for him to come out. One was a man in his late thirties wearing a suit, and the other, a sleepy-looking pokémon with a miniature trunk, which Kenta recognized as a Drowzee. Kenta walked straight forward, determined to avoid eye contact with either of them, and both allowed him past and followed from behind. He could tell by their footsteps that they were very close.

“Into the room on the left,” the man said sternly, pointing to a doorway reading “302.” Kenta turned the knob and pushed inwards, pondering how he would take on the trainer with the Drowzee if it came to that. He’d have to be quick, or the man would simply have Drowzee use Disable on him and freeze up his entire body.

Kenta’s train of thought failed him as he saw what was waiting for him within Room 302. A woman was sitting on a table in the center of the room, next to a computer. Tied up on the floor were Officers Dei and Sosuke, the two men in charge of the original Silph inspection. Kenta noticed a phone on the wall to the left, out of the corner of his eye, but he would only try it if he knew he couldn’t be detected. He hadn’t forgotten the receptionist’s threat from a minute ago. If there really were Electrode positioned throughout the entire building, he wouldn’t do anything to risk making them explode.

“You.” The woman sitting on the table pointed at Kenta, and slid off the edge so that she touched down. “Are you the backup cop?”

Kenta nodded.

“Where’s your partner?”

“Downstairs. At the front desk.”

“What’s he doing there?”

Kenta looked at her. “Don’t you know? He’s keeping the rest of the force from flooding in here and arresting you people for what you’re doing.”

The woman shook her head. “My name is Rena Saishi,” she said, putting her hand out to shake. “And I’m currently the most distrusted person involved in the Master Ball Project. They haven’t told me a thing in the last half hour.”

Kenta didn’t move, and waited until Saishi’s hand had dropped. “Distrusted?” he repeated skeptically. “I find that hard to believe, considering they left you to guard the hostages.”

“Then I’ll help your unbelief. You see . . .” Saishi reached into her work blouse, and from under her bra, pulled out a tiny, spherical object colored purple. “Anyone in charge of holding the Master Ball automatically becomes the most distrusted person.”

She widened the ball, and Kenta looked at it in alarm. He continued to stare, unable to believe his eyes. He’d only seen the “Master Ball” one other time, and that had been two years ago when his father’s old colleague, Professor Elm, had presented the concept to him. At the time, Elm had picked up an Ultra Ball from one of Blackthorn City’s dragon tamers. Supposedly, this particular Ultra Ball was unusually powerful, and had helped the trainer succeed in capturing a fishhooked Dragonair on the first throw. From this Ultra Ball, Elm had done some redesigning, and finally showed Kenta gleefully the fruit of his labors . . . an imperfect Master Ball. Kenta recalled how badly his old professor had wanted to be the one to finally succeed in making the true Master Ball, but he’d never have that now.

Saishi tossed the Master Ball casually to herself, looking closely at Kenta as his eyes followed it. “They suspect me rightly, you know. I came to your people not long ago, offering this ball for a . . . modest reward. They were very interested, but just the slightest bit skeptical to whether or not it was the real deal. I didn’t have it at the time. Meanwhile, the people on my end were all becoming more and more suspicious of one another as the Master Ball neared completion, and I began to want out of the project. I knew too much by then, you see? I’m not nearly as useful as I was in the beginning.

“So what’s a poor businesswoman to do? Stay here and be arrested or possibly shot by my own people? Or . . . do I depart from this place, just as the police are swarming in to take away all the criminals who want me out of the picture? Ah, but I can never leave this building with any trace of the Master Ball Project on my body. The door alarms will catch me. Security is harsh in this place, and I’m stuck in this room . . .”

She smiled suddenly, evilly, triumphantly. “. . . with three pokémon-holding officers, a telephone, and a dead security camera. Ah, the hasty scramblings of frightened criminals when they realize they’ve been cornered. And all it took to set this whole thing off was a vital Master Ball document ‘accidentally’ left on the Silph network’s public server during inspection. How careless!”

“You set your own people up?” asked Kenta incredulously. He narrowed his eyes. “But in doing so, you made a serious mistake, lady. Your receptionist informed me that this whole building will be blown to bits by Electrode if more police officers arrive for backup. Or didn’t they tell you that, either?”

Saishi threw back her head and began to laugh. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Is . . . is that what she told you?” she managed to gasp, wiping a tear from her eye. Kenta nodded, and Saishi snickered a few more seconds before answering. “I am one of this project’s administrators!” she declared with a waving gesture towards the telephone. “I know the leader too well. He wouldn’t dare destroy this building, not only because his precious project’s information is still here, but also because of sentimental value. He just plain likes the building!”

She offered him the phone, still laughing to herself. “Please, by all means, call for backup. Oh! On one condition.” Saishi held up her finger and Kenta waited, his mind whirling as he tried to keep up with it all.

What have I gotten myself into?

“Once you make the call, Officer, I want out of here. My people may try to silence me when they see police cars swarming in over the horizon, and that won’t do, oh no. You and those other two on the floor must be my bodyguards until I’m seen to safety.”

Kenta smiled grimly at her. “Your bodyguards, huh?”

“Indeed.” She returned the smile. “Why do you think I volunteered to watch over you guys?”

I see. You need us. In spite of this careful planning you’ve done, it’s all for nothing if we don’t cooperate.

“Then I’m setting down my own condition.” Kenta put out his hand sternly. “Hand over the Master Ball for now. I’ll keep it safe.”

Saishi looked at him disbelievingly. “You’ll set no such condition,” she said softly. “I don’t even know you, and I certainly will not bargain with you. I’ll keep the Master Ball, thank you very much.”

I may never get another chance at this. I must have that ball!

“You may as well hand it over now,” Kenta reasoned, trying his hardest to stay calm. “It’ll be taken from you the moment you’re amongst officers anyway. I, on the other hand, know who you are now. I can vouch that you secured it with me . . . if you let me hold it. I can do nothing if it’s on you.”

One way or another, lady, he thought as Saishi glared at him, apparently doing some fast thinking. His thoughts drifted to the two pokémon in his pocket. If I have to, I’ll take it from you by force. Nobody else will have seen it but your prisoners, and who do you think they’ll side with?

Very reluctantly, Saishi offered Kenta her Master Ball, her face contorted in an ugly look. Taking it away, Kenta sank the ball into his pocket with a pounding heart, and pulled out a pokéball in its place. “Bakuphoon,” he murmured, and in a burst of light, a giant fire ferret appeared before him. The Typhlosion gave him a salute, and Kenta returned the gesture before pointing towards the tied-up Dei and Sosuke. “Cut those officers free from their ropes,” he ordered hastily. “Afterwards, stand by for orders. Do not attack this woman, she’s a friendly. Go!”

As Bakuphoon scampered over the prisoner officers and began chewing on their bonds, Saishi rushed to the computer and knocked on the screen. “Porygon! Time to go.” The head of a virtual pokémon with a 32-bit appearance poked out of the monitor, and it nodded to its master before ducking back inside. Kenta picked up the telephone receiver and listened for a dial tone. For a moment, he heard nothing, then Porygon’s echoing cry resounded through the phone. The next moment, it was working again, and Kenta had the feeling that Porygon had broken through Silph’s security system to connect him with the outside world. Not pausing for a moment, he dialed the number to his military outpost and waited impatiently until he heard someone pick up on the other end.

“HQ, this is Sergeant Kenta Daitan, requesting immediate backup to the Silph Corporation building in Saffron City, repeat . . .”

When he’d finished his call, Officers Dei and Sosuke were already free, with their own pokémon out. A Weezing and a Growlithe stood at ready beside Bakuphoon, and Saishi’s Porygon floated out of the computer the next moment to total four pokémon on alert. Kenta saluted his two comrades briskly.

“Are you two both okay?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“And you heard everything?”

“Affirmative. What are our objectives?”

“We’re on the third floor of Silph Corporation, and we need to get out. Our job is to protect Ms. Saishi from harm; she’s got information on the Master Ball, and her comrades now consider her a whistle-blower. Also, Lieutenant Shen may still be on the first floor, we need to save him as well. We’ve got ten minutes before backup arrives. Are we taking the elevator, or the stairs?”

“Stairs. They might trap us in the elevator.”

“Alright. Be advised, there’s one man out in the hallway with a Drowzee.” Kenta turned to Saishi sharply, a lot more comfortable now that his side was somewhat back in control. “What else might we run into? Pokémon? Firearms?”

“No guns, except for the higher-ups,” Saishi responded hurriedly. “But everyone has pokémon. Mostly there are Magnemite and Magneton, and a few Electrode . . . but those are used for pokéball research, not battling!”

Hmm. If that’s the case, enemy pokémon should be at levels in their upper twenties or lower thirties. Moderately powerful, but nothing we can’t handle. Let’s just hope they don’t attack in large numbers.

“Listen,” said Kenta, “the hallways are confining. There’s enough space for only one pokémon to effectively battle at a time. Any attacks will be straightforward and predictable. We’ll need a berserker out front to pave the way, while someone else covers the rear. Who’s going?”

Bakuphoon’s paw immediately shot up. “Bakra!”

Kenta smiled fondly at his starter pokémon. “As expected. Alright, Baku, I’m going to pull back the door, one the count of three. Ready? One . . .”

“Cover him,” commanded Officer Sosuke, and his Growlithe charged the door just as Kenta yelled “three!” and yanked it open. Both Fire-type pokémon lunged out into the hall, and a sudden yelp of surprise from the guard on duty was followed by a brilliant orange aura as the Growlithe and Typhlosion lit up the whole passage. Kenta and his companions rushed out the door into the heated-up hallway, and were met with the sight of charred walls and two smoldering figures lying unconscious on the floor. An instant later, an alarm began to sound, and water began spraying down from the ceiling on everyone.

“Oh hell, we’ve triggered the smoke detectors!” cried Dei. Kenta shook his head and waved his hand in a "follow me" gesture. “Dammit . . . don’t stop now, the stairs are this way!”

“Porygon, didn’t you disable the fire alarm?!” barked Saishi furiously at her Porygon. The virtual pokémon hovered a few feet back from her, looking terrified. She pointed back into the hostage room, where the computer still sat indifferently to the sudden chaos. “Don’t just float there, go turn it off!”

Every door in the hallway banged open as Silph employees emerged, looking around to see what the cause was for the sudden outbreak of noise. All eyes fell on the uniformed officers in the middle of the passage and their Fire-type pokémon, and a single shout went up from them. “Escape! Escape, they’re trying to escape!”

“Get out of the way, or we’ll put you down!” Kenta warned, rushing forward alongside his Typhlosion. “Baku! Flame Wheel! Make a path!”

“Electrode!” One of the workers in a white lab coat cast a pokéball on the floor, and a creature looking like the enormous version of its ball appeared. “Use Selfdestruct!”

There was no time to react. Bakuphoon smashed headlong into the Electrode, unable to maneuver right or left, and the enemy pokémon exploded, throwing Kenta and the others back from the force of the blast. “Baku!” shouted Kenta, horrified that his own pokémon having been caught in the explosion. As the smoke cleared, he saw his Typhlosion rise and shake off the attack vigorously. “Hey! You okay?”

“Bakra!” Bakuphoon looked back at him, then shot a thumbs-up. The next moment, his eyes narrowed and he bore his fangs fiercely at the scientists still standing in front of him. The collar of fire on his neck flared up to a luminous blaze, and a swirling mist formed at his feet as the water surrounding him evaporated instantly into steam. Kenta knew this mode. Baku was in his berserk state, where mind conquered matter, and pain didn’t register unless his adrenaline flow was halted somehow. Baku could take some serious punishment in this state. Kenta had once seen him charge straight through a pressure-stream of water without even slowing down. Earlier in that same day, he’d been smashed full in the face by a Hitmonlee’s Hi Jump Kick, only to shake it off and incinerate the foe with a single devastating Flamethrower in retaliation. When push came to shove, Bakuphoon feared nothing, not even legendary pokémon.

“Hold them back! Magneton!” The next Silph scientist threw his pokéball, and from it emerged a three-way connection of Magnemite, combined to form a more powerful magnet pokémon. It crackled with electricity, and the Silph trainer pointed at Bakuphoon furiously. “Use Thunder! It’s a sure hit in this climate!”

Kenta covered his eyes instinctively. He didn’t want to take his sight off the battle for a moment, but if he was going to command Bakuphoon properly, he’d have to avoid going blind. He heard a loud disembodied crash, the kind only concentrated electricity could create, and felt his body jerk wildly. When he opened his eyes, he was looking up at the ceiling, and the nozzles that were still spraying water down on him. Pulling himself to his feet, he realized that he’d been blasted down by misdirected lightning from the Thunder attack. Six of the Silph workers near the Magneton’s trainer were lying scattered through the hall, having been hit a lot harder by misdirected lightning for being so much closer. Bakuphoon himself was on all fours, his body shuddering from electric shocks, but his face alive and murderous.

“Are you CRAZY?!” shouted one of the two remaining Silph employees from behind the door of another room, at his colleague. “What in the hell is wrong with you?? You’ll kill us all, you bleeding lunatic!”

“But . . . but conditions are rainy, and Thunder always strikes-”

“Baku!” shouted Kenta, pointing at the Magneton. “Pay them back triple! Flamethrower!”

The scientist sneered at him. “Ha! Even with the type advantage, your damage is halved thanks to- waaaaargh!” The rest of his sentence was cut off as Bakuphoon’s fire breath found him, along with his Magneton. The Typhlosion didn’t cease flame until almost fifteen full seconds had passed, and Kenta had to run up and yank on Bakuphoon’s back to keep him from continuing. “Stop! Don’t, you’ll murder him!”

Bakuphoon let off, slumping down, then pointed with a paw to his throat. Kenta understood in a moment, what he was trying to say. “Oh . . . you got paralyzed, and you couldn’t stop. Alright, I think you’ve taken enough-”

But Bakuphoon was up and on his hind legs, snarling and bearing his blackened teeth in spite his injuries. The two remaining Silph scientists gasped in terror and ducked behind their door, slamming it. “M-monster!” Kenta could hear them crying loudly. “That’s not a pokémon, it’s the devil himself!”

Seeing that the front passage was clear, Kenta checked behind him. Officer Sosuke’s Growlithe was gone, and he was crouching near the doorway they’d escaped from, holding its pokéball tenderly in his hands. Officer Dei’s Weezing was locked in combat with another Magneton, whose owner had thankfully not been reckless enough to cast Thunder. Kenta waved urgently to them. “Retreat! You can’t beat him, Steel-types are immune to poison!”

Dei nodded and shouted “Smog attack!” before following his comrades and Saishi down the hallway towards the stairs. Behind them, a cloud of toxic green gas billowed out and blanketed the passage in impenetrable murk. The small force of escapees had reached the staircase, when Dei pressed the elevator button, and the doors immediately opened. “I’m setting up a decoy,” he said, rushing inside and pressing the “lobby” button. Ducking back out, he followed the group as Kenta led the way down the stairs.

The steps were somewhat slippery because of the water sprinklers, and everyone but Bakuphoon clung to the banister as they hurried down to the lower floor. Further up, Kenta could hear angry shouting issuing from jostled Silph Corporation workers on higher floors, getting closer each second. “Keep up the pace,” he commanded as they swept past the second floor. From behind, he heard Dei order his Weezing to use another Smog on the hallway, which in turn covered the Silph workers in a blinding fog before they could react quickly enough.

“Any goons on the first floor we should know about?” Kenta asked Saishi as they neared the lobby. “No,” came her speedy reply, “there shouldn’t be anybody except- ”

At that moment they reached the bottom of the stairs, where they were greeted by the sight of Shatu being held at gunpoint by the woman behind the front desk.

“-that bitch of a secretary.”

“Don’t move!” she screamed, holding the pistol less than a foot away from Shatu’s head while he kept his arms raised high in the air. “Any sudden movement, and he dies!”

At that moment, the elevator ground open, which Dei had set up on the third floor. For a second, the secretary’s eyes shifted to the splitting doors, and a moment later Kenta heard a loud bang from right behind him. The secretary dropped out of sight below the desk, and Shatu leaned over the side automatically to see what had happened. Kenta knew before he did, as he glanced behind him to see Ms. Saishi holding her own smoking pistol. “Dead!” he heard Shatu cry in surprise, looking back at the group at the bottom of the stairs. “Kenta, what’s going-”

Kenta heard an incoming clanking from behind him. He turned around just in time to see another Electrode bouncing down the stairs straight at the whole group, like a great lethal bowling ball. A flash of red shot out in front of the escape party, and in the next moment, an explosion expelled the small force backwards and sent them skidding across the waxed floor. Kenta scrambled to his feet, and looked to see what had just happened. Bakuphoon was lying on the floor beside a fainted Electrode, chest rising and falling rapidly. This was now the second Selfdestruct attack he’d braved in five minutes, and Kenta simply couldn’t imagine how he was able to take so much abuse.

“Explanations later!” barked Saishi, sprinting headlong for the door, and grabbing Kenta’s arm as she passed him. “We have to go!”

“Baku, return!” called Kenta, holding up the Typhlosion’s pokéball as he was pulled away. The red beam shot out and disintegrated his pokémon back into its safety zone, and Kenta exhaled in relief. He’d have time to thank his loyal pokémon partner when they were back home, but first, they had to get out alive. In the meantime, he sprinted after Saishi, Dei, Shatu, and Sosuke as they dove for the door and burst through it. The chill of early November air struck his face, and its implication of freedom was one of the best feelings of his life.

But there was one more thing to do. Thinking quickly, Kenta broke away from the group and made a dash to the right and down the first ally. Behind him, the sounds of sirens were approaching, and he hastened to get his deed finished. Pulling a Luxury Ball from his pocket, he gave it a light toss out in front of him. In a burst of light energy, a creature with the appearance of a shell on four legs stood before him, teething on something in its mouth. Kenta reached back into his pocket and pulled out the Master Ball he’d been given ten minutes previously, and held it in front of the Shelgon on the ground.

“Bolt, spit that out. I have something else you need to hold now.”

The shell dragon coughed a grayish-blue stone with a dotted pattern into his hand; an Everstone. Kenta knelt down and held the Master Ball out for Bolt to take, when he heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind. Standing up and turning around, he found himself at gunpoint as Saishi glowered at him with trembling limbs. “You dirty pig,” she spat, “I knew you just wanted that ball for yourself! Give it back to me this instant, or I swear to the gods I will pull this trigger and blow your head wide open.”

Kenta looked at her, and at the pistol in her shaking hands, and took a deep breath to compose himself. “If you shoot me,” he warned, “my Shelgon will shatter your Master Ball between his teeth. He knows Crunch; he’s more than capable of doing it.”

“I see. Then I’ll have to shoot him first.”

“Bad idea.” Kenta stiffened, bending his knees in preparation to make any necessary sudden moves. “I’ve taught him Protect also, for exactly this kind of reason.” His eyes narrowed. “And if you do shoot him, I will break your neck with my bare hands, even if it’s in full sight of the whole police force. Nobody threatens my pokémon’s life.”

The two of them stood there in the alley staring one another down, while in the background patrol cars screeched to a halt and police could be heard shouting to one another as they charged the Silph building. Kenta glanced behind him at his Shelgon, who was still standing dutifully awaiting orders. “Bolt,” he muttered, “go hide in the bushes back there. Do not let this maniac hit you. She’s already killed one person.”

Bolt blinked to show he understood, and twisted around, ducking into the undergrowth. Kenta turned back to Saishi, smiling grimly. “I’d put that gun down if I were you,” he muttered, so that only she would hear. “If any of my force happens to see you holding an officer up, you’ll be off to prison just like the people you betrayed.”

Saishi smiled back, nastily. “That’s what you think.”

Turning, she waved her hand at one of the patrol cars, shoving the gun hastily under her shirt. “Captain Arcada! Over here, over here, quickly!”

Kenta’s stomach leaped at the name of his captain being mentioned. From around the corner of the Silph building, he could just make out Captain Wester Arcada approaching him with two deputies at his heels. “Go take the building!” Kenta heard him command the other two. “I’ll be fine. Report back in five minutes!”

“Captain,” blurted Kenta hastily as Arcada marched up behind Saishi. “Be careful, she’s got a gun!”

“He has the Master Ball,” said Saishi even more quickly, turning to Arcada and pointing at Kenta. “Thank goodness you’re here, tell him to hand it over!”

Kenta’s heart rammed even faster as Arcada took his eyes off Saishi and focused his full attention on him. “Kenta!” said the captain loudly and passionately, looking at him in surprise. “You have it? Good work, my boy, excellent . . . I’ll take over possession of it now. We have to get it out of here before things get any worse on this block!”

For a moment, Kenta considered calling Bolt out of the brush to deliver the precious ball over to his superior officer. After all, it was his civic duty, and it came as a natural impulse. But something was holding him back, and it wasn’t just his own wish to see the Master Ball gone, either. The air between Captain Arcada and Ms. Saishi lacked the usual hostility of absolute police authority over lawbreaking civilian. Rather, it was as if police captain and Silph conspirator were actually cooperating. He stared at them for a moment, hesitating, then made up his mind and sealed his fate.

“Captain,” he said in a reasoning, but insistent tone, “that woman was going to shoot me. She almost did, just now!”

“That’s not important at the moment,” answered Arcadia impatiently. “Right now, what’s important is-”

“Not important?” demanded Kenta incredulously. “How can you say that? Don’t you care if I live or die?!”

“Ms. Saishi’s knowledge, and the Master Ball’s power, can affect the world more than one cop’s actions ever could,” said Arcada sternly. “You did your duty, in seeing both safely out of Silph Corporation. Now it’s time to move on!”

“Wha-?” Kenta stared at him, shocked, and his brain clicked. “Wait . . . how did you know I was guarding her? I didn’t mention anything about that over the phone!”

Arcada looked taken aback, then resumed his stern face. This time, however, there was some pity in his voice, similar to how he’d sounded when he’d called Kenta at the stadium. “I’m sorry, Kenta,” he said sadly. “I couldn’t let you know anything. It might have affected Ms. Saishi’s safety.”

“What?”

“You can tell him later!” Saishi growled irately, her hand hovering over her shirt at the place where she’d stored her gun. “Just order him to give you the ball!”

“No!” shouted Kenta, unwilling to let Arcada’s explanation be cut off. “I need to hear this! Continue!”

Arcada swallowed, then picked up as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We suspected for a while that Silph was planning to make illegal and unregistered Master Balls, to sell on the black market to bitter trainers affected by G.R.I.P.’s new policies on pokémon training. The timing would’ve been just right. But we couldn’t find any incriminating evidence against the corporation, even when Ms. Saishi tipped us off. Therefore, we had no warrant for storming and taking the building. So she agreed to feed information to one of our inspection teams while they were still inside the building, so that we’d have grounds for making arrests. In return, however, we had to offer her protection, so that her fellows wouldn’t kill her before we could get her out of the building.

“That’s where you come in, Kenta. Your rank isn’t that great since you haven’t been with the force long, but records show that you’re a very passionate pokémon trainer. You and Lieutenant Shen were to be led blindly into Ms. Saishi’s presence, so that you could escort her back out of the building when she freed you again.” Arcada lowered his head in apology. “We couldn’t tell you, or you might not have acted your part right. I hope you will forgive me for being secretive. It was for a good cause.”

Kenta didn’t know how he took it all in. He felt he shouldn’t have been able to swallow Arcada’s words. Who could have accepted such an explanation so willingly?

Someone who’s been suspicious of his government all along, that’s who. This isn’t shocking news, it’s goddamn vindication!

“Captain,” he said slowly, angrily, through his teeth. “No offense, but you’d make a horrendous pokémon trainer.” He glared at his commanding officer. “Do you have any idea how alone I felt back there?! A good team doesn’t keep secrets. They think, and act, as one! When there’s victory, the joy is shared amongst all, when there’s terror, every team player shudders together, and when there’s pain, not one member is numb to the agony.” He pointed insistently to himself. “I joined this force because Silhouette was the most honest professional organization I could think of. I thought we were an absolute good in Japan. But how can I think that now . . .” He turned his glare to Saishi. “When you’ve just casually brushed off the fact that this woman was going to murder me?”

Arcada sighed and closed his eyes, then shook his head wearily. Reaching behind him, he pulled out his pistol and clicked it into loaded position. “You’re too naïve,” he said softly, then pointed the gun at Kenta’s leg. “Now,” he bellowed, with much more force than before, “Enough with this insubordination! Stand down and deliver the Master Ball. This is an order, Sergeant Daitan!”

Kenta looked at him miserably, feeling betrayed, but not freshly betrayed. “I suppose you’re not going to admit you want the Master Ball for your own power either,” he murmured, turning away from his captain. “One way or another, you’ll have it for yourselves.” He tensed his body. “But I won’t be the one to give it to you!”

Barely understanding what he was doing, moving on pure instinct, Kenta tore off down the alley for the bushes at the end. Behind him, he heard a scream of fury from Saishi. “No! My Master Ball! I won’t let you get away!”

Then he heard a gunshot, and his mind registered excruciating pain in both his lower back and his stomach, on the right side of his body. Falling forward, but unable to do anything about it from shock, his upper torso crashed through the branches and leaves of the bushes, while his legs and feet remained visible on the outside. As his blood began to pool out from under the bush’s leaves, Arcada and Saishi looked at each other in horror.

“You shot him.”

“It had to be done.”

“What if he’s dead?”

“Then one of the Silph executives killed him.”

“. . . . . hey, look at tha-!”

Bolt blasted out of the bushes at the two humans, a great blue blur, and smashed past both of them with his mighty Salamence wings extended. Arcada and Saishi were unconscious in a second’s time, and their bodies were thrown backwards out of the alley and onto the sidewalk outside of the Silph Corporation building. Wheeling around and rushing back with a clap of his wings, Bolt returned to his alley and snatched Kenta up in his teeth. Holding him by the back of his uniform, the Salamence hauled his wounded trainer onto his back, then took off once more. Hovering through the lower allies of Saffron City at eighty miles an hour, Bolt finally increased altitude at city limits and soared eastward, with the sun at his back.

***

Both brothers sat for a moment in complete silence, their food being finished along with Kenta’s story. Valtor tried to look down at the place on Kenta’s stomach where he’d been penetrated by a bullet, but the table was blocking it from view. He looked up at his big brother, his awe renewed by all that Kenta had been through. “How on earth did you survive?” he asked in a hushed voice. “After losing so much blood?”

Kenta shook his head very slightly, barely moving it from side to side. “I don’t know,” he murmured quietly. “It may have been raw willpower to live. The proper condition had been fulfilled.”

“What condition?”

“I was shot by the right person.” Kenta narrowed his eyes. “Arcada. My own chief.”