Pokémon: Grey Version
PART 12
On the way out of town, I asked a couple of wheats kicking around the edge of the city what they knew about the road ahead. I got told that a strange tree was blocking the path except for a dark cave down south. Not liking the sound of that, I asked around a little more. How could I have gotten so far behind?
From a deflated old woman with a face like a walnut shell, I got some information about the tower in the north part of town. Near as I could figure, the sages there had some kind of device that would let me see in the cave. Smoke and I headed that way.
The tower was old, partly in the distinguished way and partly in the way that makes a man's nostrils itch. The jaundiced light from the windows hit the dust and made it hard to see more than a few feet. I pulled my hat down low and stood in the shadows, close to the wall, as I scoped the joint as best as I could.
The layout of the place was a real trip, rickety stairs going up and down floors, with walls at odd intervals to force a backtrack. At some point, I heard a rough wheeze. A man came out from the corner, with a plain brown robe and all the posture of a wet sock.
"This is Sprout Tower. We will fight hard to honor Pokemon."
"A lunger like you? You look like you could cough hard, I believe that."
"You do not wish to honor Pokemon?"
"Why, did they win a prize?"
He gave no reaction. "We will see."
Old Push was twice the size of his Bellsprout, and he made short work of it it while I rolled a cigarette. I let him pretty much handle things. As I lit the cig, the old man just kept staring.
"I see. You do honor your Pokemon."
"I guess." What I guessed was that people sure get a lot of funny ideas about killing.
The sway of the tower got more pronounced as we ascended, but some clouds must have come out because it started getting dimmer. My cigarette smoke mixed with the dust that seemed to fill everything in that place, so I was about ready to take a powder, no matter what gadget was up top. Good thing I never was too quick to make up my mind.
As my eyes rose above the floorboards coming up the steps to what I knew must be the top, they hit a pair of running shoes. Coming out of those shoes was a set of pins I was making no mistake about. Maybe I wasn't so far behind after all.
"I cannot deny that you have defeated me." There was a much older monk than the one I'd fought, talking to Kris. "I will give you the Hidden Machine. But you must not be so harsh to your Pokemon. You treat them like weapons, but a weapon is a tool. If you treat them that way, tools are all they will become. But you will need more than tools, you will need companions, if you wish to be a Master."
Kris didn't say a thing to him before she turned around, and she didn't seem surprised to see me. I took out a fresh cigarette. She rolled her eyes.
"Some elder. A lot he knows." Half of her face was shadow, and the sweat clung to her other cheek in drops.
I knelt down to the Cyndaquil, which looked haggard. I lit a new cigarette off him, just like before.
Still squatting, I said, "You always this fiery?"
"What? Of course he is, he's a--"
"Wasn't talking to him." I stood up and looked at her.
"Are you chasing me?"
"Oh, no. Whisky needs a chaser, but it rarely does a woman much good. I do usually feel like a beer after I see you though, so you could be on to something."
"A drinker and a smoker. Just lovely."
"Doll, I only got one vice, and it's neither of those."
She just shook her head, letting that black hair whip around and tangle. She ran to the window where a rope was tied, grabbed a hold, and slid down to the ground. I just watched. Then I turned to the elder.
"I hear you can get me through the tunnel."
"Only the Zephyr Badge can run the machine."
"I got your buzzer right here, if you got the hardware."
"First you must show me that you are worthy."
He had three Bellsprouts, all bigger and tougher than the last one, but still no match for Push. He grew until his head hung like a funeral bell, then slapped the elder's Pokemon down one by one. I called him back.
The elder nodded gravely and rubbed his fat chin. "You show great potential. You--"
"Yeah. You sages are definitely, well..."
"Resolute?"
"I was going to say 'fungible.'"
"You will never become a Pokemon Master if you remain so self-reliant."
"And you'll never become a Pokemon Master if you keep training Bellsprouts in someone's attic. We'll have a club. Thanks for the Hidden Machine."
I was halfway back down the tower before I thought of Kris. At least I knew where she was headed. For trouble, of course.