The room went silent. Mr. Durai tapped his foot, but it made no noise on the floor. "Well . . . where do we go from here?"
"I've got it!" Marina pitched in. "How about quid pro quo? Answer a question, ask a question."
Mr. Durai smiled. "Interesting. Alright then."
Kenta nodded. "Good thinking. Mr. Durai- I'll just call you that for now- I'll let you go first, since you are still our host, after all. Same question?"
Durai nodded back. "Same question. But in the original wording. Tell me your story."
"Alright. I'll be truthful, but also brief. If you want details, you'll have to ask more questions."
In less than a minute, Kenta summarized the G.R.I.P. standards, his goal to get back Typholsion, and the different places his quest had taken them. For nearly every place, he witheld his reason for going.
"Quid pro quo," he said, "How long have you been aware of us?"
"In human reckoning, about twenty-two minutes. I am aware of all the happenings within my domain of territory." Mr. Durai winked. "I threw in that little extra tidbit since your answer was longer, just to be fair. Now: quid pro quo. Why does your story end up here? What is your business?"
"Business, ah, business . . ." Kenta reached into his pokeball belt, and widened a purple-topped ball. Hibiki recognized it as one of the Master Balls, possibly Zapdos's. "You didn't know after all. I came to show this to Mewtwo."
Mr. Durai stared at the ball in frozen astonishment, bordering on horror. Kenta looked at his hard-faced reflection on the sphere's shiny surface. "Quid pro quo. Who am I speaking with right now? Is it you . . . Mewtwo?"
There was a long silence from Mr. Durai. " . . . Yes."
"Boy, you've got some amazing astral projection skills, let alone image projection. I'll bet it would be easier to just have a slave under mind-control, right?"
"(Don't give him ideas!)" hissed Marina furiously.
"I stopped doing that a long time ago." For the first time, Hibiki detected anger in Mr. Durai- Mewtwo's voice. "Quid pro quo," said Mewtwo curtly. "I see that you carry the ultimate tool of enslavement. What are your feelings about the pokémon restrictions on trainers?"
"Overwhelmingly negative," said Kenta without hesitation. "But I see why you might disagree, so let me elaborate. Before a pokémon was ever an engine capable of mass destruction, it was a travel companion and a friend through trials and tribulation. If it were to retire at the end of a pokémon journey, and find a place in home or society, I could accept that. But the people in the highest government position have an entirely different agenda in mind: one in which they take every superior pokémon they can obtain- forever. And they will use the power of these pokémon as a weapon of force and submission against all. It won't stop there, either. You should order a newspaper subscription, Mewtwo! A lot goes on outside your boundary field of awareness."
Kenta took a deep breath and passed a hand over his face, composing himself. "Quid pro quo," he said in a much quieter voice. "How can I be sure that you are really Mewtwo, and not some technology or other pokémon capable of casting illusions? Don't say that you fear getting captured by me. You could telekinetically destroy any of my balls in an instant, then wring out my brain."
"The worst I would do is put you under a hypnotic sleep of forgetfulness," replied Mewtwo. "But I will not touch any guest that Ralts and Togetic trust. As for your question- assuming it's not a request for a face-to-face meeting- you must understand that I conceal myself for the peace and safety of all around me. You are hardly the first trainer who has sought for me since my existence was made public. Golduck!"
The cabin door opened, and everyone turned to look at the figure framed in the doorway. A blue duck pokémon walked in on its hind legs, colored like any other of its kind, except for blotches of test tube fluid upon parts of its skin. In his head, Hibiki noted that this was the blue creature he had caught a glimpse of, before it had disappeared around the corner of the cabin.
"I won't reveal myself to you, and risk exposure to the whole pokémon trainer world," continued Mewtwo. "But here is my signature mark: a superior pokémon clone that I made as my companion years ago. Behold, the world's most powerful Golduck."
Hibiki straightened as recognition hit him. "It's like the Pikachu that Eusine met in the story he told me!" he cried.
"Indeed. I involved myself with him then, because we had ended up hurting his Alakazam." A tone of sympathy came into Mewtwo's voice. "It's a long story, but Pikachu had been trying to keep out of sight, and he overreacted when Eusine spotted him. I came to know Eusine from there, and about how he wants to see Suicune. And I know Eusine's heart now. He will not try to make Suicune his slave for fame and glory. He worships Suicune, and wants only to bask in its presence."
Mewtwo paused, then spoke again. "Are you satisfied? Or would you rather battle Golduck and gauge his strength for yourself?"
Kenta closed his eyes and smiled. "I can tell that you're speaking the truth. I'll pass on the battle, but only reluctantly. You've just given me an itch to test myself as a trainer."
"Then I will ask the next question. Quid pro quo: what are you going to do with that Master Ball, and all the others?"
This question caused Kenta to take a deep breath and let it out, as though he were about to deliver some unwelcome news. "The word 'you' can be used for plural as well as singular, so there are two answers to that question," he said, grimacing. "We, the human collective, will eventually use the Master Ball technology to subjugate every pokémon we want for our own uses. We will capture the embodiments of land and water, time and space, light and darkness, and yes . . . even you. Those doing the capturing will most likely not be satisfied with ruling over pokémon, but their fellow men as well.
And what would I do with this Master Ball, and all the other Master Balls that- yes- I have created? I will give them to Japan's greatest trainers, so that their best pokémon get returned to them first."
Mewtwo spoke out, alarm in his voice. "But in doing this, you greatly risk exposing the secrets of the Master Ball! Its manufacture will surely increase!"
"No doubt," said Kenta grimly. "Less than ten hours ago, I gave one to each of the rogue teams of the regions. Including Team Rocket."
The silence following Kenta's statement was so thick with tension that Hibiki couldn't breathe. Mr. Durai's form blinked and vanished, but Mewtwo's voice remained. It was now soft, low, and carried a deadly chill.
"You . . . did . . . what?"
Marina cringed and curled up meekly in a ball on her chair. Kenta's face was impassive, but it glistened with sweat. The sudden terror of Mewtwo was upon them, and for the first time, their pokémon couldn't save them from the worst. If Kenta didn't explain his actions to Mewtwo's satisfaction, and quickly, Mewtwo might just bring the cabin crashing down on their heads.
"It's like nuclear weapons," Kenta said thickly, sounding as though he was struggling to speak through his fear. "Once we had discovered how to use them, we couldn't un-discover them-"
"YOU GAVE TEAM ROCKET A MASTER BALL!"
"Because Team Rocket is a lesser evil!" Kenta shouted back, though tears were forming in his eyes and his fists were pressed against the sides of his head. "It is better to have power distributed evenly amongst good and bad people, than for it to all be concentrated into one ruling elite with a god complex! And that's the choice G.R.I.P. forced me to make!"
The ground around them began to quake, and the walls of the cabin creaked and groaned as if under a sudden, enormous pressure. Eusine jerked awake with a gasp. Marina covered her eyes. Ralts and Togetic cried out in fright, grasping on to both of Golduck's legs. Hibiki had thrown himself down on the floor in panic, but as soon as he heard "Mr. Durai's" pokémon crying, the anomaly ceased. Apparently, Mewtwo had noticed too.
"I cannot let this stand," came Mewtwo's voice, tight with controlled fury. "Why did you seek me out to share such a distasteful conversation? Was it to mock me, after I have done my utmost to be quarantined from human society? Team Rocket made me for the sole purpose of enslavement, and nearly killed me to keep me that way. And now you have assured that fate for all the free pokémon of the world!"
"No," said Kenta doggedly, breathing hard. "That was the path humanity was on. I did what I could to alter it."
"The legendary pokémon have kept the balance of power between people and pokémon until now," Mewtwo rumbled. "But who will keep the balance when you humans have snapped them all up?"
"We will. And we won't allow it to go that far."
"I don't trust humans."
"You've made that pretty clear. But you don't have a choice anymore."
"Oh? Don't I?" asked Mewtwo, again in a dangerously low voice.
"What will you do?" asked Kenta insistently. "Destroy every Master Ball? Kill every human with the knowledge of its make? Gather an army and overthrow the human race, to assure that it can never be made again?"
"(Shut up, Kenta, shut up,)" mumbled Eusine.
"That IS my choice to make," Mewtwo declared.
"But it doesn't seem to be your way," Kenta countered. "Didn't you say that you conceal yourself for the peace and safety of all around you? Unlike the technological civil war I have planned, a pokémon overthrow would be a bloody affair with enormous casualties on your hands. Listen! I didn't seek you out to mock you, but to ask for your help, if only for the sake of the pokémon who have already been separated from their trainers."
Mewtwo laughed humorlessly. "Let them be separated from their trainers! The more, the better. Why would I help you stop that?"
"Because of where they go afterward," Kenta replied. "Allow to me now to reveal what I saw, just before I committed myself to this whole crusade."
"I've got it!" Marina pitched in. "How about quid pro quo? Answer a question, ask a question."
Mr. Durai smiled. "Interesting. Alright then."
Kenta nodded. "Good thinking. Mr. Durai- I'll just call you that for now- I'll let you go first, since you are still our host, after all. Same question?"
Durai nodded back. "Same question. But in the original wording. Tell me your story."
"Alright. I'll be truthful, but also brief. If you want details, you'll have to ask more questions."
In less than a minute, Kenta summarized the G.R.I.P. standards, his goal to get back Typholsion, and the different places his quest had taken them. For nearly every place, he witheld his reason for going.
"Quid pro quo," he said, "How long have you been aware of us?"
"In human reckoning, about twenty-two minutes. I am aware of all the happenings within my domain of territory." Mr. Durai winked. "I threw in that little extra tidbit since your answer was longer, just to be fair. Now: quid pro quo. Why does your story end up here? What is your business?"
"Business, ah, business . . ." Kenta reached into his pokeball belt, and widened a purple-topped ball. Hibiki recognized it as one of the Master Balls, possibly Zapdos's. "You didn't know after all. I came to show this to Mewtwo."
Mr. Durai stared at the ball in frozen astonishment, bordering on horror. Kenta looked at his hard-faced reflection on the sphere's shiny surface. "Quid pro quo. Who am I speaking with right now? Is it you . . . Mewtwo?"
There was a long silence from Mr. Durai. " . . . Yes."
"Boy, you've got some amazing astral projection skills, let alone image projection. I'll bet it would be easier to just have a slave under mind-control, right?"
"(Don't give him ideas!)" hissed Marina furiously.
"I stopped doing that a long time ago." For the first time, Hibiki detected anger in Mr. Durai- Mewtwo's voice. "Quid pro quo," said Mewtwo curtly. "I see that you carry the ultimate tool of enslavement. What are your feelings about the pokémon restrictions on trainers?"
"Overwhelmingly negative," said Kenta without hesitation. "But I see why you might disagree, so let me elaborate. Before a pokémon was ever an engine capable of mass destruction, it was a travel companion and a friend through trials and tribulation. If it were to retire at the end of a pokémon journey, and find a place in home or society, I could accept that. But the people in the highest government position have an entirely different agenda in mind: one in which they take every superior pokémon they can obtain- forever. And they will use the power of these pokémon as a weapon of force and submission against all. It won't stop there, either. You should order a newspaper subscription, Mewtwo! A lot goes on outside your boundary field of awareness."
Kenta took a deep breath and passed a hand over his face, composing himself. "Quid pro quo," he said in a much quieter voice. "How can I be sure that you are really Mewtwo, and not some technology or other pokémon capable of casting illusions? Don't say that you fear getting captured by me. You could telekinetically destroy any of my balls in an instant, then wring out my brain."
"The worst I would do is put you under a hypnotic sleep of forgetfulness," replied Mewtwo. "But I will not touch any guest that Ralts and Togetic trust. As for your question- assuming it's not a request for a face-to-face meeting- you must understand that I conceal myself for the peace and safety of all around me. You are hardly the first trainer who has sought for me since my existence was made public. Golduck!"
The cabin door opened, and everyone turned to look at the figure framed in the doorway. A blue duck pokémon walked in on its hind legs, colored like any other of its kind, except for blotches of test tube fluid upon parts of its skin. In his head, Hibiki noted that this was the blue creature he had caught a glimpse of, before it had disappeared around the corner of the cabin.
"I won't reveal myself to you, and risk exposure to the whole pokémon trainer world," continued Mewtwo. "But here is my signature mark: a superior pokémon clone that I made as my companion years ago. Behold, the world's most powerful Golduck."
Hibiki straightened as recognition hit him. "It's like the Pikachu that Eusine met in the story he told me!" he cried.
"Indeed. I involved myself with him then, because we had ended up hurting his Alakazam." A tone of sympathy came into Mewtwo's voice. "It's a long story, but Pikachu had been trying to keep out of sight, and he overreacted when Eusine spotted him. I came to know Eusine from there, and about how he wants to see Suicune. And I know Eusine's heart now. He will not try to make Suicune his slave for fame and glory. He worships Suicune, and wants only to bask in its presence."
Mewtwo paused, then spoke again. "Are you satisfied? Or would you rather battle Golduck and gauge his strength for yourself?"
Kenta closed his eyes and smiled. "I can tell that you're speaking the truth. I'll pass on the battle, but only reluctantly. You've just given me an itch to test myself as a trainer."
"Then I will ask the next question. Quid pro quo: what are you going to do with that Master Ball, and all the others?"
This question caused Kenta to take a deep breath and let it out, as though he were about to deliver some unwelcome news. "The word 'you' can be used for plural as well as singular, so there are two answers to that question," he said, grimacing. "We, the human collective, will eventually use the Master Ball technology to subjugate every pokémon we want for our own uses. We will capture the embodiments of land and water, time and space, light and darkness, and yes . . . even you. Those doing the capturing will most likely not be satisfied with ruling over pokémon, but their fellow men as well.
And what would I do with this Master Ball, and all the other Master Balls that- yes- I have created? I will give them to Japan's greatest trainers, so that their best pokémon get returned to them first."
Mewtwo spoke out, alarm in his voice. "But in doing this, you greatly risk exposing the secrets of the Master Ball! Its manufacture will surely increase!"
"No doubt," said Kenta grimly. "Less than ten hours ago, I gave one to each of the rogue teams of the regions. Including Team Rocket."
The silence following Kenta's statement was so thick with tension that Hibiki couldn't breathe. Mr. Durai's form blinked and vanished, but Mewtwo's voice remained. It was now soft, low, and carried a deadly chill.
"You . . . did . . . what?"
Marina cringed and curled up meekly in a ball on her chair. Kenta's face was impassive, but it glistened with sweat. The sudden terror of Mewtwo was upon them, and for the first time, their pokémon couldn't save them from the worst. If Kenta didn't explain his actions to Mewtwo's satisfaction, and quickly, Mewtwo might just bring the cabin crashing down on their heads.
"It's like nuclear weapons," Kenta said thickly, sounding as though he was struggling to speak through his fear. "Once we had discovered how to use them, we couldn't un-discover them-"
"YOU GAVE TEAM ROCKET A MASTER BALL!"
"Because Team Rocket is a lesser evil!" Kenta shouted back, though tears were forming in his eyes and his fists were pressed against the sides of his head. "It is better to have power distributed evenly amongst good and bad people, than for it to all be concentrated into one ruling elite with a god complex! And that's the choice G.R.I.P. forced me to make!"
The ground around them began to quake, and the walls of the cabin creaked and groaned as if under a sudden, enormous pressure. Eusine jerked awake with a gasp. Marina covered her eyes. Ralts and Togetic cried out in fright, grasping on to both of Golduck's legs. Hibiki had thrown himself down on the floor in panic, but as soon as he heard "Mr. Durai's" pokémon crying, the anomaly ceased. Apparently, Mewtwo had noticed too.
"I cannot let this stand," came Mewtwo's voice, tight with controlled fury. "Why did you seek me out to share such a distasteful conversation? Was it to mock me, after I have done my utmost to be quarantined from human society? Team Rocket made me for the sole purpose of enslavement, and nearly killed me to keep me that way. And now you have assured that fate for all the free pokémon of the world!"
"No," said Kenta doggedly, breathing hard. "That was the path humanity was on. I did what I could to alter it."
"The legendary pokémon have kept the balance of power between people and pokémon until now," Mewtwo rumbled. "But who will keep the balance when you humans have snapped them all up?"
"We will. And we won't allow it to go that far."
"I don't trust humans."
"You've made that pretty clear. But you don't have a choice anymore."
"Oh? Don't I?" asked Mewtwo, again in a dangerously low voice.
"What will you do?" asked Kenta insistently. "Destroy every Master Ball? Kill every human with the knowledge of its make? Gather an army and overthrow the human race, to assure that it can never be made again?"
"(Shut up, Kenta, shut up,)" mumbled Eusine.
"That IS my choice to make," Mewtwo declared.
"But it doesn't seem to be your way," Kenta countered. "Didn't you say that you conceal yourself for the peace and safety of all around you? Unlike the technological civil war I have planned, a pokémon overthrow would be a bloody affair with enormous casualties on your hands. Listen! I didn't seek you out to mock you, but to ask for your help, if only for the sake of the pokémon who have already been separated from their trainers."
Mewtwo laughed humorlessly. "Let them be separated from their trainers! The more, the better. Why would I help you stop that?"
"Because of where they go afterward," Kenta replied. "Allow to me now to reveal what I saw, just before I committed myself to this whole crusade."