[Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. The lines in Mewtwo’s flashbacks are a collage from the Japanese and American editions of “Myuutsuu no Gyakushuu”/“Mewtwo Strikes Back,” laced together so as not to sound totally contrived. Despite the above forfeits, I do own Charles Manders, alias Comrade Vengeance. He dies at the end of this work, so don’t even bother stealing him. This plot is a noticeably extended variant of a two-part script I drafted several years back, and which I may even submit at some point. I also wish I owned Mewtwo, but that will never happen. It probably wouldn’t be particularly healthy if it did, either.
This is rated PG-13 for injuries, the occasional reference to or observation of death, and (primarily) touchy subject matter in this day and age. Non-Americans might be able to withstand terrorism references, but my countrymen have repeatedly demonstrated their inability by banning anything that could have been a 9/11 reference in Pokémon episodes.]
Shadow of a Doubt
“The greatest deception men suffer is from their own convictions.”
-Leonardo da Vinci
The sun beat down on the craggy, barren, heat-blasted rocks of the mountain range. A tall shadow reached down from a monolithic red rock. Topping it was a slimmer shadow, just as stationary as the rock’s.
An unearthly creature stood poised on the rock, eyes closed and sheathed in grey-purple fur. Every muscle was rigid and poised, from the short stubby ears to the skeletal body to the massive sinewy purple tail. He, for it posessed an indefinable yet undeniable masculinity-simply stood, unmoving, unchanging to the outside observer. But inside…
<How many lives have I lived, now?> he pondered. <And how many of them touched by tragedy? Nothing but sensations from the first…> his mind filled with emotions-not truly memories, just the vaguest recollections of a warm and soft glow followed by an icy darkness, a sense of loss so great and so incomprehensible it was as a physical blow. <Hatred, emptiness, betrayal-the humans taught me well during my second life. Unfortunately for them.> The senses were clear memories this time, images of that dark and cold tank, the sharp constricting plates, and, above all, the malicious hunger and utter heartlessness of one man, and the unthinking sacrifice of one boy. <Giovanni,> the being thought with freezing hate. <He brought about the beginning of my existence, but I would rather have not existed at all than have been forced to spend it with him. And Ash…> the chill vanished, replaced by warmth like a crown fire-just the faintest memory of the spirit of the human child who had once offered his life to stop Death. <Between those two, I have been separated yet made whole. My…friends are gone, but the world accepts them as its own. But even if it does, its people still do not…nor will they, without some vast change.>
The creature’s meditation came to an abrupt end as snarls and clashes of metal rang in the valleys below him. His concentration disrupted, he turned his head in the direction of the sound, hoping to find the source and screen it out. Instead, he felt the sick, weak minds of the thugs who made up Giovanni’s Team Rocket Dan’in grunts. <Pursued by that madman even here,> he thought morosely. <Will this never end?> Then he realized, <But he could not have come for me, not with his memories scoured clean. So who could they be fighting?> Inquisitive, he thrust his mind out, seeking the being the Dan’in battled.
Even his mind recoiled from the sheer power of the human mind as he touched it. It had the chill of the edge of space tempered by an intensely hot passion, and its belief in its principles was more unbending than steel. <Never before has a human been this strong. Not even Ash…the only being I know like this is…me…>
The creature rose into the air, his long sinewy purple tail held fast by his intense self-control. Ever since he had turned from the path of destruction, he had enjoyed the feel of his tail fluttering behind him while he flew, but there was no time for that now. Only reaching this remarkable man was important.
He hovered well over the site of the battle once he found it, observing from afar. A tall, slim man with unusual blue-silver hair, clad in flowing white robes, like a warrior out of human legend, struck out at a group of four Dan’in with an actual metal sword. The Dan’in tried to run while their assorted Pokémon-mostly purple snakelike Arbok and demonic red Houndour-nipped at his heels. A lean yellow-green insectoid Scyther with its underarm blades honed razor-sharp darted after the Dan’in, ignoring the other Pokémon, like its master. No, not master, the hovering observer realized, but a relationship unheard of in a Pokémon Trainer-no relationship at all. Neither the swordsman nor the Scyther exchanged even as much as a suggestion, but between them, they quickly drove the Dan’in to flight. Several of the Rocket Pokémon trailed their masters, but most of them simply turned and slithered off into the woods lining the valley. The Scyther followed the second group without looking at the warrior.
The observer descended, smoothly and silently, and landed near to the swordsman, his paws touching down with an almost soundless impact that still caught the warrior’s attention. The man, despite a display of extraordinary reflexes, had only begun to turn as the observer reached into his mind and placed words there.
<You could be me…>
The man known as Comrade Vengeance whirled around with his blade ready as the soft steps sounded just behind him. Or, rather, he tried. He had barely started his move when the first alien thought ran through his head.
For the first time in his life, he was literally paralyzed with astonishment. That’s not my thought! he railed mentally.
<No, it isn’t,> the powerful vibrating bass sounded again, laced with an edge of humor. <It is mine.>
“How?” Vengeance demanded aloud as he completed his turn and brought the blade flashing up towards the mysterious being…only to have it bounce off of a rippling patch of air. He then committed a second first of the day-his jaw dropped open as he took in the bizarre appearance of the apparition before him. The creature looked vaguely feline-the tail, slanted eyes, ears, and bent limbs gave that impression-but it-no, he, definitely he, Vengeance decided before he could commit the same error as so many of the slavedrivers he fought-stood upright like a human-Or one of hundreds of other species of Pokémon, we aren’t unique, he reminded himself-and had the rib structure to go with it. However, it was completely covered in grey and purple fur, with arresting purple eyes. “What are you?” he asked, rather less hotly.
<As you undoubtedly guessed, I am a Pokémon. And, as you seem to be wondering, I may have human genes in me. However, it was not my choice. I am a heavily-altered clone of an ancient being.> The creature halted, trying to decide what more to say. Again, he caught a taste of the man’s incredible conviction, and he knew.
<I am Mewtwo.>
“Mewtwo…” Comrade Vengeance muttered. “It sounds so familiar. I know I’ve seen that name somewhere before…but I’ll let it drop until I know. You’re obviously psychic, if you can speak to me without moving your mouth, so I’ll assume you already know my…preferred moniker?” Mewtwo nodded. “And perhaps you know why I go by such a mysterious name as ‘Comrade Vengeance.’”
<No,> that incredible voice rumbled again. <I can, however, taste your conviction, and the cold fires that feed it. That is why I came to you, because I once felt the same way myself.>
“All right,” Vengeance said. “If I can’t trust a Pokémon to keep this hidden my cause is doomed already. I am an idealist. A firebrand. A revolutionary.” Mewtwo remained silent, but Vengeance had felt a strong impression that the being before him understood and wanted him to continue. “I have never been welcomed in society because I always questioned the way Pokémon exist in our society. They are pets who are abused. They are workers whose human counterparts never lift a finger to help them. They are gladiators who fight and suffer for the glory of their “masters!” They are slaves, Mewtwo! I’m certain you understand this!”
<All too well,> Mewtwo thought, but he kept it to himself.
“I made it my goal to remedy this injustice. I protested to everyone I could think of. It earned me scorn, contempt, derision! I came to realize that the only way to change the system was through direct action. My activities have been, well, less than legal. So I hide out here, striking against the oppressors wherever I find them.”
<You use pain to stop pain. You would give yourself to save others. I wonder…are all humans this way?>
“If only,” Vengeance sighed. “Just today, I gave a…stern warning to a band of travelers. The lead boy’s Pikachu servant jumped down and confronted me when I explained my position to his driver. I didn’t want to cause any more pain than necessary, at least not to the Pokémon, so I jumped over the Pikachu and knocked the boy to the ground. By mistake I sent him over a ledge, but his friends caught him as I disappeared. Then I caught the band that just scattered.” He indicated the valley. “Team Rocket’s Dan’in are so pathetic for what they do, don’t you agree?”
<Ash,> Mewtwo thought privately. <It has to be.>
<Indeed I do.> he then projected. <You might say I have a… relationship with their kind. When I first felt them, I thought they were hunting me. Again.>
“You know, with your powers backing my operations, we could end the injustices that both sides have perpetrated.”
A chill swept through Mewtwo as he remembered the flame-scarred island where he had met his “benefactor.” <Those were almost the same words Team Rocket’s leader Giovanni used when he enslaved me. He promised me partnership and then used me to battle for his profit.>
“Giovanni, the Rocket Boss?” Vengeance mused. “Could you show me this memory? I want to know my enemy.”
<Very well.>
[Mewtwo stood in the twisted and blazing remains of some metal structure on an island, far out from shore-all that remained of his birthplace…if it could be called “birth.” <Is this my power? I am the strongest Pokémon in the world. Mew, am I stronger…than you?>
A helicopter’s rotors whined and its landing gear squeaked as it settled down behind Mewtwo. A tall, dark-looking man, with short dark hair topping a chiseled face stepped out. “Indeed,” the man said in a clipped voice, “you surely are the strongest Pokémon in the world! But, there is another being even stronger…”
<Humans.> It was not a question.
“Yes. With your psychic powers and my resources, the world would be ours…”
<Ours?>
“If your powers are set free, though, you would destroy the world. You must learn to control them. I can help you do that.”
<What should I do?>
The man’s lips drew back in what only the most charitable would have called a smile as he chuckled.]
“I knew I had heard your name before! It was in a Rocket database I captured, in the high-security data! So, Giovanni tricked you into serving him. And then what happened? You obviously broke free.”
<Yes. He told me that my sole purpose was to fight for him, and that, as a Pokémon, all thoughts of partnership and cooperation were meaningless. I was simply inferior. In reply, I destroyed his base and fled to the island where I was born.>
“Good! You do see! You can ‘taste my conviction,’ you said. If you wish to help my cause, aid me. If not, I will not hold you.”
<I…believe you.>
Mewtwo began thinking to himself again. <Perhaps this is my chance to make a difference, to change the world for the better. Perhaps working with this man will give all of the clones a chance to leave the shadows. Perhaps…>
Vengeance finally made his first request to Mewtwo the next morning. “I need to prepare for today’s demonstration, but I don’t want any police activity. Can you distract them from me, somehow?”
<Demonstration? What will that be?> Mewtwo demanded suspiciously.
“I don’t divulge it my plans to anyone. Not even my associates. That way, if anyone gets caught or has cold feet, they can’t hurt the rest of us.”
Mewtwo reached out and felt the same burning conviction, and an iron core of honesty. But there was still a nagging wrongness about the situation. Not even he could identify it, however. <I will be careful around this man, but that is all. My guidance may prove necessary to keep him from following my path.>
Mewtwo reached out with his mind and probed the end of the mountain road. He felt the minds of three young travelers, but only bothered with them to track their location and ensure they were out of the way. His mouth twisted up in a rare smile as he reveled in the simple joy of doing something. <Months of nothing but running and meditating can wear on a psychic cat,> he thought wryly. He then sent his consciousness out into the rocks, enlarging the air pockets and veins, crumbling the mountain from within. To all outside appearances, the mountain was unchanged, but in reality it was an unstable mass of loose rocks. And all it needed now was a little…push.
The local police captain, the tall blue-haired Officer Jenny, was pouring over a computer terminal, looking for any pattern to the methods of that self-styled “revolutionary” band headed by someone calling himself “Comrade Vengeance” when the station vibrated, slightly but noticeably. She looked up from the screen with a grimace on her once-friendly features, and then gasped sharply as the emergency hotline began to buzz. This could be the break we’re waiting for! she thought as she grabbed the phone. “Jenny here,” she said crisply. “Who, what, and where?”
“Officer Blythe, Checkpoint 24. Mountain pass. We’ve just had a massive rockslide that came out of nowhere-almost looked like the hills crumbled as they went, not just loose rocks.”
“Explosives?” Jenny demanded?
“No way of knowing yet, but the pass is completely blocked off. Three kids had just reached the checkpoint when the mountain came down. I’m holding them here.”
“Good,” Jenny said, the tedium of her data search dispelled. “I’m on my way.”
“What do I tell these three?”
“Tell them that they may be witnesses. If they get hostile, secure them. Do everything legally, but don’t take any chances.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jenny rushed to the station’s motor pool and vaulted into an armored motorcycle. She gunned the engine and took off. More reports crackled in over her radio, multiple checkpoints confirming Blythe’s report. One, with a view of what may have been the collapse’s origin, mentioned a blue flame licking around the first rocks to fall and through the cracks that appeared later. That may be important. If Vengeance and his murderers have high-temperature explosives now, there’s no telling what they could get up to! She reached the edge of the metropolitan city center and finally had a clear view of the rockslide. Rockslide my hat, she thought, that’s a total blockade! Then she realized something else odd. A clear view…where’s all of the dust? Shrugging her puzzlement off for the moment, she blazed down the roads towards Checkpoint 24.
She screeched to a halt almost in contact with the checkpoint’s door and leapt out of the enclosed motorcycle. The large, heavy Officer Blythe saluted her offhand while keeping his eyes on the three “kids” he had mentioned. One, a boy of no more than twelve years who sat erect with an air of supreme confidence, was of a type Jenny recognized immediately. He wore a red League-patterned cap over unruly black hair, his jeans, blue-gold vest, and black T-shirt were weatherworn and clung to his slim body, his belt was studded with the telltale spherical bulges of Poké balls, and he cradled a yellow-brown mouselike Pikachu in his lap. With the exception of the Pikachu, he was like any of the hundreds of young trainers who passed through the city every week. An older man with dark brown skin and darker hair, with more Poké balls inside an orange vest over his forest-green clothing, sat on the opposite end of the bench from the trainer, his eyes squinted almost shut. Between them was an orange-red-haired, blue-eyed young woman roughly the boy’s age and even slimmer. She, too, carried Poké balls, their red and white halves visible in the open satchel slung over her cream-colored tank top, and her temper obviously matched her hair, based on the torrent of verbal abuse Jenny’s arrival had stopped.
“Blythe, report,” she snapped crisply, forestalling the dark-skinned man’s bumbling attempt at flirtation. “What have they told you?”
“They’re trainers passing through the mountains, on their way to the next gym. The boy with the Pikachu’s Ash Ketchum, the girl is Cerulean Leader Misty Waterflower, and the man is Pewter Leader Brock Harrison. All of them are from the Kanto region. Their Pokédexes check out, as do their Kanto tournament records from the year before.”
“Officer Jenny, what’s going on?” the one called Ash asked.
“You...ah, you must have met my relatives before,” Jenny said with a slight blush, her first in weeks. “Back on topic, we’ve been suffering a series of attacks on a variety of targets but a group that calls themselves the ‘Liberator Camaraderie.’ They say they’ll destroy the city if we don’t release our Pokémon and allow them to choose whether to stay with us or ‘be free,’ and they’re firmly against trainers, gyms, leagues, and the use of Pokémon for any labor humans could do themselves. Their leader calls himself ‘Comrade Vengeance.’”
“Ash-d’you think-” began the girl, Misty.
“That guy with the sword who pushed me off the ledge? Yeah, he said stuff like that.”
“The area’s governor declared martial law when the new seaport was bombed. The police have complete authority over law enforcement, a strict curfew has been imposed, and all penalties are much harsher.” Jenny looked tired. “I don’t like telling anyone this, and I wish no one had to. But until we stop these madmen, we’re going to have to do everything it takes to keep the city safe.”
And, at that moment, an explosion split the sky and the shock wave bowled everyone in Checkpoint 24 off their feet.
“Come in!” Jenny coughed into her radio. “Any units near that blast, respond! Now!”
“This is Response Team Charlie, Officer,” a voice said tensely. “We’re within a quarter-mile and armored up. We’re moving in now.”
“Roger, Charlie Team. Give me the coordinates and I’ll get Joy, Arlen, and the other emergency teams in there.”
“Yes, ma’am. Looks like it was centered at the water plant for the northwest suburban area, but we can’t give you exact locations until we get there.”
“All right. Hurry up. See if you can catch whoever did this. You know the drill.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man repeated.
“What happened?” Ash asked bemusedly.
<You did what?> Mewtwo demanded furiously.
Comrade Vengeance took a step back, actually suffering pain from the barely-leashed fury in Mewtwo’s mind. He took refuge in a deliberate misunderstanding of the question. “Comrade Retribution detonated a charge made of cleaning solvents inside the main pump for the water station on…”
<I know what you did, but why? Why hurt innocent bystanders? I made certain that no one was injured in my part.>
“I thought a being with your experiences would at least understand me.” Mewtwo took a step forward and his eyes narrowed dangerously, but Vengeance continued. “I learned something early on; words aren’t nearly enough. To bring as entrenched a tradition as Pokémon slavery crashing down, you need to do the same to a few cities.”
<You claim to be working to save the Pokémon from humans. Yet there were almost certainly Pokémon in that building, and even more will suffer with their water source gone!> Mewtwo expected an answer like his own had once been, that the Pokémon had disgraced themselves by serving humans. What he heard was something much different.
“Would they be better off as slaves? In this way, I free some in one way while helping to free others in another. The Pokémon who die have their shackles removed forever, while the ones who are hurt can be treated-I do not disapprove of all our species’ relations-and the ones who are inconvenienced can bear it. Worse things have happened in the pursuit of liberty.”
<His argument makes sense,> Mewtwo mused, keeping his thoughts private. <And that disturbs me. Both that he can so easily rationalize it to himself, and that he is so completely sure of his rationalization…and that I can understand the rationalization so readily. But still->
<I will not condone future attacks against civilians,> he thought aloud, <whatever the justification! There are far more important targets that can earn you respect for eliminating, not just fear! Take, for example, Team Rocket Headquarters…> Mewtwo let this broadcast trail off suggestively.
“If you do not support my usual strategies, then you do not have to participate in them. Nor, however, will you know enough to prevent them. But I see your point. And, if the Rockets are less objectionable victims to you, perhaps we could raid their base together…if we knew where it was.”
<Just follow the next group of Dan’in to come this way when you make them flee. They will not go to their headquarters, of course, but they will lead us to another place where we can pick up the trail.>
“Intriguing. I think I’ll take that idea, if you’ll accompany me?” Vengeance paused, his hand outstretched. Showing far less hesitation than he felt, Mewtwo glided forward and took it.
<I dare not let him out of my sight.>
“So, you said you saw a man in the mountains who spread propaganda like what I described and then assaulted you?” Officer Jenny inquired of the group of travelers now that they were in the dubious comfort of the station. “Can you describe him, or give us an idea of his location?”
“Well, he was…” Ash began hesitantly.
“Kind of tall, with a long white piece of clothing-like one of those things martial artists wear, but more flowing. And he had weird blue-silver hair,” Brock contributed.
“And he had a sword-which he nearly used on Ash!” Misty concluded hotly.
Ash held his palms up in appeasement to the red-haired girl. “Misty, you don’t have to be so defensive for me. I’m fine.”
In any other situation, Jenny would have laughed into her coffee at the relationship between the two youths in front of her. As it was, however, she had to move the investigation along. “Can you tell us where you met him? The teams at the water plant found traces of simple household chemicals mixed together into the bomb, but they couldn’t figure out any suspects. Any information you can give would be extremely useful.”
“It was about, what, an hour before we got to the city?” Brock asked his companions.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Ash confirmed. “There was a huge finger of rock that looked really close, and then a ledge, or maybe a cliff, right next to the path.”
“If I take you up over the rocks in a helicopter, will you be able to identify the spot?” Jenny asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Ash replied. “I’m not sure, though…”
“Don’t worry,” Jenny said with a grin that surprised herself more than anyone else. “There’s only one place it could be.” Her grin hardened, the lines of care and duty reforming in her forehead. “We may be able to finish this once and for all.”
The emergency line squawked once again. Officer Jenny grabbed it almost instantly. “Jenny here,” she answered, her voice turning grimmer. “Who, what, and where?”
“Security Team Golf, at the rockslide work site. Some of the rocks were wired, and we’ve got serious injuries and several fatalities among the work crews. Humans and Pokémon both.”
“Understood. Triage the wounded and wait for the medics,” Jenny sighed. “Com, reconnect me to Nurse Joy.”
The phone light died for a split second, then re-lit. “Joy, Jenny. We’ve got another strike at the rockslide. Serious injuries, probably blast and shrapnel. Triage is under way.”
“All right. I’m sending every available nurse and attendant, along with a third of the ambulance fleet.”
“Can’t ask for more. But don’t quote me on that if I do. Jenny out.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Brock demanded.
“Yeah, it’s horrible that someone would do this, to people or Pokémon!” Misty spat.
“We’ve gotten used to it,” Jenny told them wearily. “We never wanted to, but after enough bombs go off, it takes a lot for something to get through to you. Even something like this.”
The police helicopters clattered through the sky, carrying four response teams towards the location the travelers had described. Their crews were blissfully unaware of the fourteen pairs of eyes watching them…especially the purple ones.
“Look, the police,” a cream-colored Meowth complained, shielding his golden head charm from the sun by reflex. His powers of speech, almost unique among Pokémon, had long since stopped being a marvel to his two travelling partners. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t be any worse.”
“Stop whining and start moving,” a red-haired woman in a white Team Rocket uniform squawked back. “If they see us, the Boss’ll never let it drop!”
“But Jessie,” her blue-haired male comrade whined, seemingly oblivious to the glare she directed at him, “we haven’t had a thing to eat in days! How are we supposed to run?”
Jessie lost it. “You’ll run, James, because if you don’t, I’ll tear you in half!” James suddenly took off, with Jessie and Meowth in hot pursuit.
“We didn’t even need to attack that group to make them run,” Comrade Counterstrike said, shading her eyes as she followed the rapidly-fleeing white suits. “One problem solves another.”
“Mewtwo, are you ready to follow these Rockets?” Comrade Vengeance asked.
<I know those three. I doubt rather highly that they will lead us where we need to go.>
“We need to scatter before the police arrive, and they may give us a lead. Like you said.”
<What of your friends? We cannot take them all with us without being caught.>
“Counterstrike, you take half the group and lead the police on a wild goose chase through the mountains. If you can bring down those helicopters, do it. Retribution, take the rest, contact our people in the city and keep hurting them. We should be back within a week.” Vengeance turned back to his felinoid ally.
<Is it wise to allow your campaign of terror to continue in your absence?>
“Definitely,” Vengeance replied, unconscious of the fact that no one else had heard Mewtwo’s question. “They do most of the planning individually anyway. Taking me out of the loop will have no real effect.”
<If you are certain,> Mewtwo thought to Vengeance. Then, he turned his thoughts inward. <This seems almost like a ploy to get me out of the way. I cannot feel any duplicity in these people, but they strike me as so sure of their purpose that nothing would seem wrong to them.>
“There they go!” the lead helicopter’s pilot barked as a small group of figures broke cover and ran across the heat-blasted plateau.
“Right on the money, Ash,” Jenny told the young trainer. “Com, let the other ‘copters know to descend and deploy. We want these people alive.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the radio operator said. She began to relay the instructions to the other aircraft as the helicopter started its descent.
“Wait…what the…” the pilot muttered as he noticed something unusual. The people in the passenger compartment hurried forwards to see what the problem was. “Why are they stopping…unless they-”
Then a tongue of flame blossomed from the shoulder of one of the figures.
“Evade!” Jenny shrieked. The pilot jerked his joystick and the helicopter slewed sideways, but it was already too late for that to be enough. The rocket slammed into the helicopter’s underbelly and flames rushed into the passenger bay. Then the aircraft dropped. Quickly.
“Gahh…” Misty groaned as her eyes finally opened. She tried to get to her feet and was rewarded with intense pain through every inch of her body. She looked down and gasped at the impressive array of bruises already developing. Indeed, it was less a collection of bruises as it was one giant bruise, and she could see far more of it than she wanted through the shredded wreckage of her once-yellow tank top. Her vision seemed to waver, darkening and lightening almost at random. Then, as she actually looked around for the first time, she took in an even louder gasp. Night had fallen and the only light was coming from the burning wreckage of the downed helicopter. “Ash?” she called, her voice hoarse but still working. “Brock? Officer Jenny?” Hearing no response, she forced herself to stand despite the pain. She staggered slowly out of the center of the crash, using any piece of metal that wasn’t glowing for support. Her blue eyes widened when she saw Ash lying limp just outside of the circle of firelight. “Ash!” she cried as she ran to his side. His eyes creaked open as she approached.
“Misty?” he said hesitantly, his voice so much different-so much weaker-than normal. “Where’s Pikachu?” She kicked herself for having forgotten to check for the Pokémon. Ash tried to rise, but his right leg-practically bare and severely lacerated through his decimated jeans-dragged behind him at an unnatural angle and his left arm, exposed to the elements through the charred remains of his T-shirt and vest and flopping loosely, gave out quickly as it took his weight. He cried out in pain and fell back down, twisting the abused limbs even further and receiving a brutal cut from a half-buried piece of metal. “Pikachu!” he called again, desperately, his normally resolute voice torn with fear and agony.
“Hey, Ash!” a familiar voice called from just outside of the crater. Brock’s singed face peeked over the charred lip, and an equally familiar pair of yellow ears followed it. Ash’s face lit up with joy as Pikachu, battered but intact, dashed down to him, crying in happiness.
“I found Pikachu awake a few minutes ago. We were on the other side of the crater, so I decided to look for food or supplies before I came down.”
“You left us here to find food?” Misty demanded indignantly, taking refuge in the opportunity to yell at someone. Even that simple action reduced the pain of her bruises. “We could’ve died!” Brock’s face disappeared back over the edge with unseemly haste. Pikachu laughed softly into his paws, and a weak grin came to Ash’s face too.
“Where’re the others?” Ash called up to Brock, who leaned sheepishly back into view.
“I didn’t see anyone. That probably means that they all woke up before we did and left to get shelter or help, because they aren’t here either.”
“So they aren’t stuck in the wreckage?” Misty asked, the anger bleeding out of her voice.
“I don’t think so,” Brock replied. “They’d have to be pretty well hidden to stay out of sight from up here.”
“That’s good, it means they got away,” Ash said, closing his eyes and holding Pikachu close.
A faint metallic ping! sounded nearby, followed closely by another, and then a rush of movement. “No, that’s bad,” a cruel female voice taunted. Red “R”s became dimly visible on black shadows against the firelight.
“Yeah, it means you don’t get any help against us!” a hoarse male voice added.
“Prepare for trouble and make it double!” they called in a discordant chorus, ignoring the bored groans and rolled eyes from their intended targets.
“We know those two…” Misty began with a sigh.
“To infect the world with devastation!” the woman began.
“To blight the peoples of every nation!” the man continued.
“To denounce the goodness of ‘truth’ and ‘love,’ to extend our wrath to the stars above!” they chanted in unison.
“Butch!” the man croaked with a flourish.
“Cassidy!” the woman called with a flamboyant twist.
“Team Rocket, circling Earth all day and night!” Cassidy intoned, her long blond ponytails and triangular pink earrings spiraling as she gave a flourish.
“Surrender to us now, or you’ll surely lose the fight!” the green-haired Butch concluded with a snarl. “Not like you kids are in any condition to fight us anyway.”
Pikachu leapt from Ash’s arms, cheeks crackling with barely-contained electricity as he called out his name in a battle cry.
“Raticate, take care of that little mouse for us,” Cassidy said dismissively as she hurled the designated Pokémon’s Poké ball towards the flying Pikachu. “Hyper Fang!”
Raticate’s teeth began to glow as
he jumped towards Pikachu, but Pikachu reacted first. With a sustained cry of “
“Now, the way I see it, you have two choices,” Cassidy said. “You can surrender and give us all of your Pokémon, or you can let us kill this creature, take all of your Pokémon, and leave you to die. What’ll it be?”
Ash growled. “You wouldn’t!” Misty yelled.
“Raticate, use Hyper Fang. Again.”
As the Pokémon’s teeth lit up once more, Brock brought up a more practical objection. “Ash has a broken leg, and all of us are hurt. We’d slow you down.”
“Right, as if we meant to take you with us,” Butch replied.
“Now, now, Butch,” Cassidy admonished him playfully, “Be nice. After all, I’m sure the Boss has a plan for the children who’ve ruined his plans repeatedly.” Her voice grew more and more vicious with each word. “We’ve got a truck over the next ridge. And I don’t care how much you groan, you’re walking there. Now.”
When the rescue flight arrived the next day, all they found were depressions where bodies might have lain and two piton darts. Darts that were emblazoned with a large red “R.”
“What is this place?” Jessie asked her companions as they finished their walk around the perimeter of the massive metal structure.
“Why’re you asking me, Jess? I’ve only seen what you have,” Meowth replied.
“What’re you two doing here?” a harsh voice called. “And what’s with the uniform colors?”
The trio turned and saw a man in a black Rocket uniform. “We’re with you, soldier. Jessie and James,” James said.
“Boss told us about you two. Your memberships gave out, you owe us more money than the Team is worth right now, and we’re supposed to take you into custody upon your arrival.”
“Uh, we’ll just be going,” Jessie said innocently. “We’ve obviously overstayed our welcome, so-”
“Stay there!” the Rocket guard said, leveling a police-issue riot gun at them. “You’re coming with me to see the boss, and I don’t think he’ll want to give you a hug and a kiss.”
“Ehh,” Meowth groaned, carefully not looking at the gun barrel he could have comfortably wedged all four paws inside. “I could do widdout dat anyways-”
“March!” the guard barked. So they did.
“Quite the comedians, aren’t they?” Vengeance asked Mewtwo rhetorically.
<I am impressed. They managed to lead us all the way to our destination without even knowing it was here themselves. And they even left us an opening. While the guard is bringing the three fools to Giovanni, his post is unguarded. We can follow them in with relative ease.>
“Are they always this unlucky?”
<Luck seems to follow them, envelop them, spread to others near them, but it never actually touches them in particular. If it did,> Mewtwo thought, pondering what would have happened had Ash not had Pikachu with him on New Island, had the small Pokémon not been there to revive his fallen trainer, <things might have been quite…different.>
“Are you coming, or not?”
The two unlikely allies found the Rocket base’s door sealed. “Wonderful,” Vengeance sighed. “I don’t think I brought enough explosives to get through this plate.”
<There is no need,> Mewtwo thought with a mental chuckle. <I never purged my information from the Rocket
computers, since I have not been near one since I suppressed Giovanni’s
memories. The identification system will
still recognize
“Reasonably.”
The two passed through, with Mewtwo giving careful attention to erasing their presence from the security cameras. They managed to get roughly to the center of the base’s ground floor without incident. “I don’t believe this,” Vengeance fretted. “No one could be this lax about security!”
<They are likely relying on secrecy as their greatest defense, with automated alarm and defense systems tied in to the cameras I have been blinding. That way, they can free up their limited manpower for operations rather than defense. Hold-I can feel a pair of minds ahead.>
“What do you propose?” Vengeance whispered.
<Follow my lead and do not protest any more than your role will require.>
Corey and his partner Mark, elite guards who still went without codenames, raised the riot guns their Boss had appropriated from the Viridian Police Armory at the sound of footsteps. They let the massive barrels fall again as a Rocket agent rounded the corner escorting some bizarrely-dressed man.
“This man was near the entrance to the base. I’m taking him to the cells,” the agent told them.
“Floor B-12, you know the layout.” Mark thought he noticed something strange about the agent-that his mouth moved out of sync with his words. Must have imagined it, he thought. A moment later, the impression and the thought had both disappeared.
“’You know the layout,’” Vengeance remarked with both humor and awe once they were safely into the elevator and Mewtwo had dropped his disguise. “Now that was extraordinary. If only you were free to use those powers in an equal civilization.”
<Hopefully our actions here will bring that day closer,> Mewtwo thought to Vengeance.
“Hopefully. Now, let’s see, cells are on B12…as is the command center?”
<For ease of interrogations, perhaps?> Mewtwo hypothesized. <Or perhaps there is something else down there, something that is not public knowledge. Nonetheless, we should make that our destination. But we need not take the lift. Press the button, then take my paw. I can get us both there instantly.>
“I see. All right.”
The empty lift began its descent, but Mewtwo and Vengeance were already on the twelfth underground floor of the complex.
<We do not know where anything is on this floor, except that it is on this floor. We should investigate, see what we can learn about Giovanni’s plans so we can prevent his subordinates from carrying them out in his name later.>
“All right. Should we remain together?”
<Yes,> Mewtwo told him, careful to keep the rest of his thoughts concealed. <Because if you escape me, I cannot protect the world from you.>
Mewtwo and Vengeance padded down the cold metal hall, with Mewtwo editing the camera footage and Vengeance taking careful note of every turn they took. At one point, however, Mewtwo stopped his steady glide in front of a seemingly innocuous wall panel. <Clever, Giovanni,> he remarked, before placing his paw against the wall seemingly at random. The wall split apart and the panels rose up to reveal a massive room with a colossal shell-shaped machine in its center. <I…know this place…> Mewtwo thought, no longer controlling the target of his thoughts as he wrestled with the impossibility of what he was seeing. <I was born here…but I destroyed this place…didn’t I? This is impossible.>
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it can’t be anything good,” Vengeance said. He proceeded into the room and stopped so suddenly that Mewtwo feared for his safety.
<What? What do you see?>
“You…have to see this…for yourself. You said ‘impossible?’ Well, that’s really the case now.”
Mewtwo walked into the room-actually walked, as he no longer trusted his focus enough to glide-and practically fainted when he saw what lined the wall.
A row of glass cylinders filled with an orange fluid, with developing forms of his own body.
<When I wiped Giovanni’s mind of memories, I must have missed whatever it is that drives him to acquire improved versions of Mew. They are…me.>
“You? So, you were created from Mew and ‘born’ in one of these glass monstrosities to fight for Giovanni? We need to stop him from raising this army, if they’re all going to be as powerful as you.”
<Yes. We need to stop Giovanni. Now.>
“But will that be enough?” Vengeance looked Mewtwo directly in the eye. “What, more than anything else, was it that drove you to violence?” Mewtwo slowly gathered his thoughts, and began.
[Mewtwo stood, locked inside Giovanni’s suit of armor with his ‘master’ staring down at him from a balcony. Despite all that he had achieved, there was still an emptiness within him, a feeling that something vital had never existed in his life. <Now I fully perceive my power,> Mewtwo thought, not bothering to conceal it. <But what is my purpose?>
“To serve your master,” Giovanni’s cultured tones rang down. “You were created to fight for me. That is your purpose.”
<That cannot be,> Mewtwo protested, shaking his head in denial, at least as far as the armor would permit. <You said we were partners! We stood as equals!>
“You were created by humans to obey humans. You could never be my equal,” Giovanni spat. He was confident, arrogant in the power he controlled. But that situation was about to change, for Mewtwo was through with being the wicked man’s pawn. He began to destroy the cables that held the armor to the wall, and with them, Giovanni’s control of his form. “What are you doing? Stop this now!” the Rocket Boss ordered.
<I was created by humans as a Pokémon. But I, who was created by humans, am not even that!> His voice held such power that it was a wonder Giovanni was not incinerated on the spot. A sphere of raw energy crackled around him and rays of power blazed out from it, culminating in a massive column that leveled the Rocket headquarters and everything for miles around it. As he rose from the apocalypse, his armor disintegrated around him. Finally, he landed in the silent ruins of the New Island Laboratory. <Who wanted to make me?> he blazed, frozen logic and fiery emotions raging within him. <Who asked to make me? I hate everything that made me!>]
“I thought so,” Vengeance said understandingly. “It was the emptiness, the feeling that you were nothing but a product, to be used and discarded, not a living being. Can you honestly tell me you don’t feel that way now, to some degree?” Mewtwo looked down. “Even if Giovanni were to disappear-even if all of Team Rocket were to disappear-would these new Pokémon have the love and care that would avert disaster? Could they go into the world and meet with acceptance, or would they find themselves used or neglected and turn their vast powers against the rest of the world?”
<Your point being?>
“This.” Without another word, Vengeance slammed his fist through the glass of the nearest clone’s pod.
<Stop! Now!> Mewtwo railed as klaxons sounded throughout the entire base. Mewtwo grabbed the glass shards and spraying liquid with his mind and held them, running them back into place and sealing them there. By that time, Vengeance had already moved towards the central power hub for the chamber. He made for the emergency shutoff switch-<A security measure,> a distant corner of Mewtwo’s mind realized-and was about to depress it when Mewtwo blocked his arm with his own and held it back. <You cannot do this. I will not let you.> The Rocket elites began pouring into the chamber from other concealed entrances and leveled weapons at the twosome while a variety of poisonous Pokémon burst from Poké ball confinement beams.
“You betrayed me,” Vengeance spat at his former ally.
<You disappointed me,> Mewtwo replied as the Rockets led them both out of the chamber.
“Let us out!” Ash howled at the guard. If he could have moved, he would have been busy beating the bars down. But, with the damage to his leg compounded by the forced march, he was reduced to merely voicing his fury. And his voice was weakening by the minute. Misty’s showed no signs of faltering any time soon, but the guard finally had had enough and stopped them.
“Shut up, kids, or it’ll be even worse for you once the Boss gets around to it,” their cell guard sneered. Then an alarm sounded, echoed by dozens of others…and those were just the ones audible from the cell. “What the-” the guard muttered. “I’ll be back,” he warned the prisoners melodramatically. “Don’t go anywhere,” he added, somewhat unnecessarily. Then he dashed out of the cells, hefting a machine pistol.
When the running footsteps had receded, Brock rose from the cell bench. “You two try to worm out of your bindings.” Suiting the action to the word, he wriggled his wrists until he could slide them, one at a time, out of the simple circular band. “Trust Team Rocket to cut corners,” he said with a soft laugh. Misty slithered her slim wrists out with even greater ease, and then she turned to help Ash, not particularly noticing the length of time her hand stayed in contact with his while she helped him free. He gasped with pain as his dislocated arm tugged at inflamed, torn muscles, but he bore the pain while Misty finally slid the ring off, lingering slightly as she let it fall away. Brock, meanwhile, began prying at the door, eventually getting his hand through the bars and into contact with the combination lock’s keypad.
About five attempted inputs later, footsteps sounded in the hallways and the three returned to their bench, concealing the now-useless bindings. They gasped in unison at the sight of the new prisoners. One was the man who had attacked them in the mountains only two days before, while the other…
Ash was about to call out the name, but he was filled with an overwhelming urge to <Remain silent.> Mewtwo’s eyes flared blue. Ash hissed and his face twisted with renewed pain as he felt his broken and disjointed bones twist back into place and knit rapidly together. The many deep cuts across his exposed skin drew together, pink scars forming over them in a matter of seconds. At the same time, Misty’s bruises faded into only shadows, though she barely noticed in her concern for her friends, including the mysterious being in the corridor. Mewtwo passed beyond their vision, but the guards clustered around the Pokémon’s cell, giving Brock enough time to resume randomly punching in numbers.
About five minutes later, the door’s lock clicked. “I’ll stay here with Ash,” Misty offered. “You go get the Pokémon.”
“I have a better idea,” Ash said, the pain nearly gone from his voice. “Why don’t we all go?” The boy rose to his feet despite the indrawn breaths and looks of concern from his movement elicited from his friends. “Mewtwo put me back together while he passed. I can walk just fine.”
“All right!” Brock chuckled while Misty barely suppressed a cheer.
The three young travelers turned down the cell block, searching for the Pokémon storage room. “Get inside and close the door,” Ash directed when they reached it. “I’ll get the Pokémon.” One Poké ball opened almost before he entered the room and Pikachu sprang out, shouting with joy. Ash held his friend tightly while Pikachu licked his ear in delight. “Hey, buddy,” Ash said softly. “How are you?” Electricity crackled from Pikachu’s cheeks as the yellow Pokémon narrowed his forehead viciously. His enforced rest had obviously done wonders for him, despite his hatred of confinement.
“Touching,” Butch’s grating voice sounded from behind the group.
“But you aren’t going anywhere,” Cassidy continued as she stepped from behind a stack of crates. “I’m surprised you even got out of the cells to begin with, given your ‘broken leg’ and all.”
“We had help,” Ash said shortly.
“You’re not getting out of here, you know, Ash,” Cassidy said with a sorrowful shake of the head. She clicked on a portable radio. “Boss, we’ve got the escapees and their Pokémon contained. Again,” she added, and then visibly kicked herself as Giovanni’s scrambled voice came through.
“Then make sure you don’t lose them again, Cassidy!”
“Yes, sir, Boss. Where do you want them?” Butch started gesturing for her attention and the covered the transmitter. “Not now, Butch,” she hissed. “Sorry, what was tha-” She was cut off abruptly by a sweeping kick from Ash’s “broken” leg. “How dare you!” she shrieked. “Get them!”
“Yeah, Botch, come get us,” Misty taunted.
“It’s Butch! Get it right!” he cried indignantly as he rushed them…only to be sent sprawling by a concentrated shock from Pikachu.
“Oh-you little…” Cassidy’s voice trailed off ominously.
“Don’t know enough words to put one there, eh, Cassidy?” Misty said with a vicious laugh. Ah, revenge feels so good, she thought with wicked pleasure as Cassidy let loose an incoherent cry and charged, all sense forgotten. One flash of lightning later, she was up crumpled on the floor like her partner. The three youths gathered up their Pokémon, along with all of the others in the container. Then they ran, leaving the smoldering forms of the Team Rocket agents behind them.
“Wait, Ash, what about Mewtwo?” Misty asked breathlessly as they pounded down the hall.
“He can take care of himself,” Ash replied, his characteristically unflappable confidence returned with the disappearance of the pain. “We need to find Giovanni and put him out of business.
“Right!” his two companions agreed, tactfully not voicing their conviction that it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Meowth, if you can get this door open, you are a genius. And I will never, ever-” James said pleadingly.
“Don’t go too far, James,” Jessie counseled. “He’s about to finish and you don’t want to sign away any of your rights to him!”
“Shaddap, youse two! I need to focus on dis last one…gotcha!” The door lock clicked and Meowth withdrew his paw from the bars. “Now all we gotta do is convince the guard to go away while we scram!”
“Right,” James said. “How about…we try to pin something on Batch and Cassidy?”
“Ooh, yes,” Jessie said, her eyes glowing with childish delight and blazing with hellish anger simultaneously. “I’d love to get back at that witch for all the times she talked down to me!
“Guards! Guards! The prisoners are escaping!” Jessie cried in her best impersonation of Cassidy’s voice, which shouldn’t have fooled anyone. “They’re going for, uh, the, um, storage room!”
“Yes, that’s right, the storage room,” James chipped in with an even worse impersonation of Butch. Amazingly, the Rocket guards could be heard pounding down the corridor after the “escapees.”
“Nice work,” Meowth praised. “Now let’s get out of here!”
The trio charged down the corridor but came to an abrupt halt in front of the cell containing Mewtwo. <Be silent,> his voice rippled through their heads. Meowth padded into the cell and quickly input the code lying on the desk. The lock clicked open and Mewtwo’s cell mate moved towards it. Then, Mewtwo raised a barrier across the entirety of the cell. <I cannot leave now,> he told Meowth. <You, go. Get clear before the guards return.> Meowth needed no further urging. He literally grabbed the other two and hurled them down the corridor, dashing after them without looking back.
“Why don’t you let me out?” Vengeance demanded of Mewtwo. The Pokémon remained stoically silent, not even deigning to look at Vengeance.
<That conviction, that iron will, I never could have guessed what it masked.> Mewtwo reflected. <How can it-how can anything-blind him to the evils he commits?>
<You are a murderer,> Mewtwo finally told his former ally, <though you cannot see it.>
“What I did there, and what I would do again if I had the chance, was neither attack, nor a declaration of war, but revenge on the people who enslave Pokémon! I thought I could trust you, but you have been corrupted by these humans into showing too much restraint. You…used and betrayed me, and so, I stand alone!”
Mewtwo’s mind recoiled in shock at hearing his own words-ones he had never given Vengeance-come out of the madman’s mouth. And as his focus wavered, the barrier flickered and went out. Vengeance dashed through the door and was out into the hallway before Mewtwo could gather his thoughts.
When he finally did, all they consisted of were <I have failed. He knows the exact same feelings that nearly drove me to genocide, and his self-righteousness will blind his conscience to what he does. Even now, the flame of his conviction turns to ice. He must be stopped before he commits another atrocity. I must stop him.> Mewtwo rose, hovering inches above the floor, and flew at higher speeds than any since his battle with Mew through the Rocket base, following the beacon-bright signature of Comrade Vengeance’s void-cold mind.
“I was wondering if you would arrive,” the cold voice echoed down from above. Ash, Misty, and Brock scanned the vast, dark rectangular room they had entered for the speaker. They were not to be kept waiting long.
Blinding white lights erupted from the roof, illuminating a vast rectangular stadium ring, complete with the divided circle at its center. The voice’s origin sat in a reclining chair above the field. His dark, narrow face sneered down at the trio from the shadows, its features still shrouded in darkness.
“I had plans for you, and your escape demonstrated to me that you were worthy of them. So, will one of you kindly step into your box so I can put you in your place permanently?”
“That sounds like a challenge, Giovanni,” Ash replied mockingly while his teammates voiced their exasperation with the man’s theatrics. “I accept.”
If the man in the booth recognized the name, he gave no sign of it. “Then get on your mark, select a Pokémon, and we will begin. Once you are out of Pokémon, you will continue the fight yourself. That will be your punishment for standing in my way so often.”
“Assuming you even finish my first one!” Ash replied with all the cockiness of his youth.
“Oh, I will. It may take time, but your end is certain,” the voice continued, cruel as winter.
“Prove it!” Ash demanded hotly as he took his place. “Pikachu, get out there and take this arrogant prig down!” Pikachu sprang from Ash’s shoulder and landed on all four paws in the arena.
“Very well,” the voice snickered. “Rhydon. Crush his rodent into the dust!” A wall panel creaked open and a massive rock-skinned Pokémon charged out, the drill on its face whining as it spun.
“Pikachu, Iron Tail! Let’s finish this quickly!” Pikachu’s jagged tail began to shine and the little Pokémon jumped at the far larger Rhydon. The tail slammed into the almost stationary Rhydon’s chin and sent the massive creature flying through another wall panel…to reveal a Machamp. The four-armed blue brute barreled forward, only to meet with a massive electrical discharge from Pikachu’s checks. It collapsed in a smoking heap without even clearing its chamber’s doors.
“Next?” Ash called. The man laughed, low and cruel, from his perch.
A door beneath Ash’s opponent rose slowly but the Pokémon behind it remained shrouded in shadow. The man in the chair bolted upright and leaned over the rail. “You may have won against those first two, but when you fall from that height, my vengeance will be all the sweeter!” The man snapped his fingers as he extended them towards Ash and Pikachu, and a nameless fear gripped the young trainer. Two blue eyes ignited in the darkness and Pikachu suddenly rose into the air and flew backwards. Ash jumped up and caught his friend, taking the impact against the wall himself. The creature that had created the force glided calmly forward out of the chamber, its long purple tail in the curl of a question mark while the rest of its body was shrouded in armor.
“This is Mewtwo!” the man exclaimed. “My finest creation, and the first of many in my army!”
“Mewtwo-why? What could make you side with Team Rocket
after what happened on
“What are you talking about?” the man inquired, the cruelty in his voice dampened ever-so-slightly by curiosity.
“A different…Mewtwo?” Misty wondered aloud.
“Do you have any other Pokémon to send against me, or will you attack yourself?” the man asked. “I have little patience as it is.”
“You’re mine,” Ash said defiantly, and attacked.
And that was when Comrade Vengeance burst through the doors, recovered sword unsheathed.
The armored “Mewtwo” raised a barrier with a wave of his paw and sent Ash ricocheting into a wall, then turned to face the new threat. By then, the unnaturally fast Vengeance had reached him and carved several plates off of him with blazingly fast swipes from his elegantly curved blade. The gashes the blade left in the once-pristine grey-purple fur healed almost immediately, but it was obvious that Mewtwo was growing confused.
<What…how…> the new Mewtwo thought, and then he lost control. Intense shockwaves ripped through the building, punching open walls, ceiling, and floor with abandon. The man was thrown off of his perch by one particularly massive blast, and Misty and Brock were forced to flatten themselves against the ground to avoid another. Mewtwo stood in the center of the chaos, paws clenched, and wherever he looked, destruction followed.
The explosions ripping through the building drew Mewtwo’s attention like a magnet, and he put on even more speed in his haste to reach Vengeance. He flew in through the doors and immediately launched a bolt of energy at the white-robed figure…only to see it dissipate harmlessly. <Only one other being could do that. Mew, are you here?> Mewtwo broadcast in all directions.
His reply was far from
settling. <Mew? Who is Mew?> asked a
mind-voice so like and yet so unlike his own.
It had none of the depth, and all of the rage and the confusion of that
day in the laboratory on
Himself.
Mewtwo understood his double’s actions perfectly, having done much the same to the laboratory he was grown in. So, rather than engaging the power-maddened Mewtwo directly, Mewtwo spread tendrils of his mind to every human and Pokémon he could locate and quickly sent them elsewhere in the world.
Then he turned alone to confront himself.
Officer Jenny had finally returned to the station after her nightlong hospital stay, and her efforts were now redirected to finding the place that the three travelers had been taken to. All right, we know it’s Team Rocket from the emblems on the darts, unless it’s someone who wants to redirect attention to Team Rocket-but with Vengeance’s group cleaned up both in the city and in the mountains, who else could it be? She leaned back in her office chair and massaged her eyes tiredly. Just then, she couldn’t bear to look at a computer monitor any longer. She swiveled her chair away from the terminal and opened her eyes-and found herself looking at Ash, Misty, Brock, an unfamiliar man in a dark red business suit, and several dozen Team Rocket members. A pile of Poké balls was neatly stacked off to the side, but Jenny was taking no chances with criminals like these. She slammed her palm down on the intercom panel and yelled “All officers to the main floor! We have Team Rocket personnel inside the station!” She never took her eyes off of the group in front of her, many of whom were looking around in disorientation. She drew the sidearm she had taken to carrying since Vengeance’s activities began and leveled it at the people before her as more armed officers took up firing positions around the room. “All right, who are you?” she said, keeping one hand on the gun while she indicated the three travelers and waved them clear.
Two Rocket personnel in unusual
white uniforms stepped forward. “Ah, we,
we have an award for assistance to the law and meritorious conduct from the
“No!” snapped a blond woman in a more conventional black uniform that was sporting some sizable singes. “They got that by betraying us!”
“Which is about the best character reference you can possibly give somebody,” Brock remarked from the side.
Jenny shook her head. “No one gets out until after their trial. We’ve had some trouble recently, and we don’t need any more now that the troublemakers have been rounded up.”
Everyone in a Rocket uniform looked like they were about to speak at the word “trouble,” but something convinced them to remain silent. Perhaps it was the large-bore cannon on the balcony above them. Whatever the reason, the criminals withdrew into sullen silence.
The silence was broken in under a second by the speech of another man, clad in what Jenny recognized as a modification of a martial artist’s gi. “You know me as the author of your troubles, Comrade Vengeance. I have one question now-will our trials be public?”
“Of course. We can only keep your trials private if you request.”
“Then I request, officer,” the man in the suit informed her in a cutting tone.
“And I request, whoever you are,” Jenny replied, unfazed, “that you keep your tone and words civil in my presence.” Her finger brushed the trigger of her pistol. “Is that understood?” she asked mock-sweetly, her voice almost as cold as his.
“Indeed,” the man replied, not apologetic but at least in acknowledgement of his position.
Better than nothing, Jenny thought with a sigh.
Comrade Vengeance’s trial came in less than two days. The camera crews from dozens of news services tracked his approach to the courthouse from behind a police cordon. “Extremely dangerous,” the security broadcasts had warned. Even in captivity, the man held an aura of defiance and barely-suppressed hate that kept even the most inquisitive newsie from coming too close to the lines of armored police. Due to the exigencies of the case, a judge had to be imported from a completely different continent. The black-robed man with an exotic feline slant to his eyes had entered twelve minutes before the prisoner, and he had held the same feeling of power. The witnesses who followed them in-literally hundreds of them-lacked the impressiveness of the two individuals despite their sheer numbers, until one anchorwoman realized that they represented a complete cross-section of society, from Team Rocket gangsters to the Governor himself.
The trial started five minutes after Vengeance’s entrance. After completing the formalities, the judge addressed Vengeance. “The accused will rise,” the judge said in a resonating bass, his lips lagging ever so slightly behind his actual words. “State your name.”
“I am Comrade Vengeance, and these people know me.”
“For the record, please,” the judge said resignedly.
“I…respectfully refuse,” Vengeance said, not sounding respectful in the least.
“Very well, we will proceed. First, where is your counsel?”
“I waived my right to counsel, just as I insisted on a public trial,” Vengeance said, calmly overlooking his guarantee to public trial and instead making it seem like another goal of his crusade.
“Hmm. In that case, you are charged with…” the judge made a great show of shuffling his notes, “sixty-two counts of assault with a deadly weapon, one hundred and forty-four counts of property damage or destruction, thirty-nine counts of murder, and,” grim humor trickled into the judge’s voice, “one count of contempt of court. How do you plead?”
“Guilty to all charges, and I’d do them again in a heartbeat.”
“Restrain yourself,” the judge cautioned. “You have not been granted permission to speak.”
“Then I beg the court’s indulgence,” Vengeance said, the word beg laced with malice.
“I will indulge this. You have two minutes.” The bailiff turned his eyes to the clock.
Vengeance stood and faced the cameras directly. “You have heard my grievances many times in the past, citizens. Yet you never paid me any heed when I voiced them in peace. I was scorned and humiliated for challenging the world’s view, which I suppose was only natural. But even when I offered resistance and began to address passersby, even when I turned to violence, you still refused to listen. Now, I have come to this. I will accept my penalty without question, in the hopes that it will bring about my dream of a world where Pokémon and humans are equal, where Pokémon are not forced to do what humans could themselves, or what technology could prevent either from having to do. That is, and has always been, my position. Render whatever verdict you choose, you can do nothing to stop our cause.”
“An impressive speech,” the judge stated. “A pity you could not see what harm you caused through your knight errant’s visor once you mounted your high moral horse. For my part, I have already recommended to the jury that you and your Comrades be rehabilitated rather than imprisoned or executed, as the law calls for. The jury will now convene. This court is in recess.”
Not half an hour later, the courtroom doors opened once again and every spectator rushed in, the media jockeying for the best vantage points.
“This court is now in session,” the judge stated as decorum decreed. “Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“Yes, your honor,” the hard voice of the once-sweet Nurse Joy spoke out. “This jury has found the defendant guilty on all counts, and we have unanimously decided to adopt Your Honor’s proposal.” Vengeance looked up, somewhat confused. “The members of the Liberation Camaraderie will be rehabilitated, that their considerable talents might be used for the benefit of society in the future.”
“Very well,” the judge said with no small amount of satisfaction. “Comrade Vengeance, you will remain in police custody until the manner and location of your rehabilitation is selected. This court is adjourned.” He tapped the bell with his gavel, and the high clear notes sang through those assembled as their nightmare ended at last.
In the maximum-security detention cells of the police station, the judge faced Comrade Vengeance. Piece by piece, he let his disguise fall. The first to be revealed were the purple eyes, followed by the reversed legs, the slender grey torso, and the disappearance of the robes. Mewtwo now stood in the cells, visible only to the convict.
“So, you’re my ‘rehabilitation?’” the man sneered. “You could have just told me I was going to die, but now they’re going to come up with some variant on ‘shot while escaping.’”
<No, Vengeance. Your mind, like those of your associates, may yet give back to society. What I will do will be swift.>
Vengeance-why am I called that? Whose stupid idea was it to name me something that evil?-closed his eyes slowly and sank into blissful slumber as feelings of warmth and peace spread through him, his memories of all the destruction gone and replaced by a wonderful childhood of harmonious coexistence with beloved Pokémon.
Mewtwo felt satisfaction as the blizzard chill receded from the man’s mind, the physical components of memory shoved into a part of the mind humans never accessed. Then he, too, vanished.
Flashes of memories began to stab through the joys of Charles Manders’ Pokémon Journey. None were even remotely as pleasant as the ones he was now reliving, but somehow they seemed more real to him than anything he saw in his travels. There, on the pavement of a city, a well-to-do man kicked a small Growlithe puppy viciously for stopping short on a walk, berating the poor creature for stupidity and calling it “his.” There, deeper into the city, two blue-skinned Machoke struggled to move a heavy girder into place under the gaze of a fat reclining human with a drink in his hand. And there, a towering Pokémon, vaguely feline, showed him the memories of use and abandonment. And then he knew. These are not my memories! he realized in a flash of recognition…and incandescent rage. The man with a mind that had once inspired wonder in the most powerful psychic in existence now defied that being and reached the corner of his mind where his real memories were stored. And, with the recognition of everything that had happened and the abrupt loss of the source of his undeserved joy, the mind of Charles Manders, alias Comrade Vengeance, snapped.
Somewhere in the mountains, Mewtwo felt the change in Vengeance’s mind-glow. Too distraught by worry about what his lenience might have allowed to risk teleporting, he soared with incredible speed towards the city.
“Is it really over?” the red-haired Nurse Joy asked Officer Jenny as they sat in the waiting room of the Pokémon Center. “Is the killing finally done?”
“I hope so,” Jenny replied. “Once Vengeance and his band are out of here, and the Rockets’ trials are done, I’ll relax.”
“Speaking of which,” Joy voiced, “how are the three children doing? I hope they’re getting some rest while their clothes are being tailored.”
“If you mean Ash, Misty, and Brock, I saw them get into beds in the human part of the Center just a few minutes ago. Why?”
“They’re seriously beaten. Ash in particular, he looks like his bones were put back together in a hurry and he’s lost a lot of blood,” Joy said with her customary look of concern. “I’ve left instructions that they be kept here for recovery for at least a week.”
“You can expect some protests,” Jenny counseled. Extremely loud ones, from what I’ve seen of Misty, she thought with a tension-relieving mental laugh. “I don’t think those kids know how to slow down.”
And just then, her radio buzzed for attention.
“So, that’s all there is for now on the incredible story of Comrade Vengeance,” the redhead news anchor Alicia Satterthwaite concluded. “With the trials of Team Rocket members to proceed tomorrow, the end of strife in the region should be in sight.” A metallic scrape sounded off-camera. “Eh?” Alicia asked as she turned.
A voice colder than space echoed through the speakers of everyone watching. “Step away. I’ll do the talking for a change.” The camera panned over hastily, following a bewildering path and shaking even once it had reached its target. The expressionless face of Comrade Vengeance, with the orange of a prison jumpsuit collar around his throat, filled the trembling screen.
“I have tried reason, to no avail. I have tried violence, but the apathy of the human mind to injustices persists. I even used my own trial to gain an audience, but the failed attempt to change my mind has shown me that I can wait no longer.”
He produced a cylindrical object. “Just last month, you used Pokémon to haul around incredibly dangerous materials to create an experimental ‘fission’ power plant-far too dangerous to allow humans near, of course,” he spat with incredible hate. “And now, that work will turn against you. All I must do is press the button,” he indicated a large red switch, “and this city will die. Some will die mercifully, consumed by the blast. Others will die slowly, victims to the same radiation with which they willingly contaminated the Pokémon they so jokingly call ‘their friends!’” “So tonight,” he concluded, his voice an icicle, “I offer the world an ultimatum! In the words of revolutionaries before me, you can live free…or die!” The camera dropped and running footsteps could be heard, fading quickly as their owner fled.
Ash, Misty, and Brock saw the
haunting broadcast from their room in the
“We’ve got to stop him,” Ash said, pushing his fatigue away. He could feel his leg starting to ache again, but ignored that, too.
“But how? Brock demanded. “All he has to do is push that button and we’re as good as dead!”
“I don’t know how, but we can’t let him hold on to that thing! Maybe if we snuck up on him, and hit him with something, or had Pikachu shock him-” the yellow Pokémon shook his head fervently, “-well, I don’t know!”
Misty looked at him gently. “You’re right. We may not be able to, but we can’t just sit around while he kills the city! I’m in, for whatever this is.” She put her arms around Ash in an awkward embrace.
Ash instinctively tried to pull back, but then checked himself. “We aren’t going to die, Misty,” he said softly, his voice husky as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Not without a fight.”
The three travelers ran out of the
They had an easy time approaching the broadcast tower, as all of the traffic was headed away from it. They passed several dozen crashes and even more trampled or battered bodies, pedestrians who had suffered in the mass exodus. “If he’s got people reacting like this, he’s already won,” Brock said grimly. “Fear’s been his weapon all along.”
“How can he not see what he’s doing? Is he that blind?” Misty cried in despair. “He’s going to kill all of the humans and Pokémon of a massive city so that other people will listen to him?”
“That’s exactly it, Misty,” Ash replied somberly. “And he might have a point that the world should hear.”
“I wish we had heard it before it came to this,” Brock concluded. “But then, it always takes a crisis to cause change.” The party reached the abandoned broadcasting tower and made their way inside, unopposed by anything but their own fears.
“Ash, this is our last chance,” Brock warned at the entrance to the recording studio. “We can still back out without provoking him to press that button.
“We’ve come this far already. We’re not giving up,” Ash said with the grim conviction he had demonstrated once before against impossible odds. Perhaps it was for the better that he did not remember that those odds had led to his death. “Let’s finish this.”
He slowly, carefully eased the door open, despite Misty’s private fear that he would give them away with a hotheaded charge, and padded silently across the red-carpeted floor of the beige studio towards Vengeance’s turned back.
Just as Ash raised his hands over his head to strike the back of the madman’s neck, Vengeance twisted and grabbed the boy’s blue-gold vest with a hand bloodied from when he had torn his cell bars apart, lifting him into the air. “I expected some form of desperate attempt to stop me, but I never thought it would be from children.” A tinge of regret entered his voice. “At least it’ll be over quickly, for you. Your bravery deserves that much.”
A faint blue glow began to form as he dropped Ash, the boy’s leg splintering under his own weight with an audible snap! Then Vengeance pressed the button.
The explosion blinded Ash and deafened all three of the travelers, but…that was all. As Ash blinked the chaos from his eyes, he saw a miniature star hovering in front of him, encased in a blue globe. He trailed the globe as it rose, swiftly, into the night sky through an open window. It continued to rise, until it was nothing but a pinprick of light. And then, just as it could no longer be followed, it burst, releasing the magnificent fury of the intensely magnified blast into space. A wild cheer filled the city as the fireball expanded, expanded, and was gone, its massive flame dwarfed to insignificance by the uncaring vastness of space. A brief reflection of a purple-eyed catlike head glimmered in the recording studio’s tinted windows for a fraction of a second.
“Mewtwo,” Ash said to himself as the police finally started to arrive. “It had to be.”
<You may tell her of me and my actions tonight,> the resonating voice filled his mind as soon as he had let the words slip out. <Let us see how society’s representative reacts.>
“We have all been shaken by the tragic and terrifying events of last night, from the final act of Comrade Vengeance to the escape of nearly half of the Team Rocket prisoners,” Officer Jenny told the cameras and the audience as she stood in the City Hall before easily a quarter of the citizens. Her immaculate navy blue dress uniform seemed at odds with the violet circles under her eyes and the red traces of tears. “However, we should be thankful that Vengeance’s last act in this world was averted…and by a Pokémon, no less. These three children,” she indicated the battered travelers sitting beside her with a wave of her arm, “went in pursuit of the man even as the rest of the city fled his wrath. Despite their efforts, he pressed the button before they could stop him. Their lives, and those of everyone else in the city, were saved by the actions of a Pokémon named ‘Mewtwo.’ And so, it gives me more honor than I can say to present to Mewtwo the Banner of Terra, once our race’s highest award for valor. It is my hope that the dream Comrade Vengeance caused so much misery to achieve may be brought closer by this act.” She looked around. “If Mewtwo is here?” she said, trailing off inquiringly.
A man rose out of the crowd, dressed in a grey suit and with arresting purple eyes that only a few grasped the significance of. “I have been sent to accept the award for Mewtwo,” he informed the people in a reverberating bass that a few recognized as that of the Camaraderie’s judge. “He is not yet ready to reveal himself to the world, and sends with me his deepest regrets.”
Officer Jenny looked concerned. “Can you prove this story?”
“No,” the man admitted, “but he told me to tell you that you should keep the award for him. He will claim it, when he is finally ready to receive it.” The man stepped off the stage, walked out the auditorium’s doors, and vanished.
“It’s finally over,” Jenny said with a choked voice, and she collapsed, sobbing with relief, onto the podium. She was not the only one who finally shed the tears they had held back during the Liberation Camaraderie’s reign of terror. And as the waters flowed down, they melted the ice that had formed around the hearts of so many.
A snow-capped peak in the
<So, another life ends,> Mewtwo meditated, in isolation once more. <Was it truly but a week ago that I thought that society needed to change to accept me? No, society is ready. It has always been ready, but my own prejudices stopped me from seeing it. Perhaps, I can come into the sun one day, but perhaps for me that day will never come. But for another like me, it will. My own self, four years younger and with all of the emotions I never experienced but through humans like Ash. Perhaps with the warmth and love that I never enjoyed, he can grow to enter the world and change it for the better. Perhaps I-or he-or someone-will usher in the world that Comrade Vengeance gave so much to reach.>
Perhaps…
[Author’s Note: To forestall
any subsequent indictments, I am most emphatically not speaking in favor of terrorism, nor am I suggesting that bowing
to the modern-day bands is a particularly good idea. The closest real-world comparison to Charles
Manders/Comrade Vengeance is John Brown (Harper’s Ferry,