Apocalypse: 1.11 Liftoff (Patreon)

Preface

Phew. I think this is the last of my commissions. Oh, and another ACL live. I finished earlier than I expected so who knows, I might write something else.

Liftoff 1.11

June 2015

Sabrina was right. It could be another ice-adapted pokemon like the sandshrew. Maybe it was some kind of skorupi or trapinch. Or maybe it was an entirely different pokemon none of us had ever heard of like those pika-clones Rocket and I killed by the gas station in Sierraville.

But if it was, there was fuck-all any of us could do about it. We were working off extremely limited information so trying to predict the fauna and flora of the pokemon world was an exercise in futility. So, putting aside the ridiculous hypothetical of a “pokemon no one knows exists,” I decided to start by investigating the possibilities that were easiest to knock off.

That was how I found myself at the pier.. Lake Tahoe was as beautiful as always. Seeing its waters made me feel small, in a good way. The lake didn’t care about the town’s problems; all things would pass in time. Even in the moment, it wasn’t as though the thieving pokemon were existential threats to the town or anything.

The vandalized storage and the missing food was a big deal, but more because it got people riled up rather than because the town was in danger of running out of food. We had crops and cooperative grass types. We had capable hunters and fishers. The ruined food was inconvenient and we might have to tighten our belts a bit, but we wouldn’t starve.

Now, if only a handful of fuckwits hadn’t pointed their grubby fingers at Rocket, then I’d have felt pretty relaxed overall.

I watched as Rocket dashed forward, almost tackling a little boy off the end of the pier. The boy lost his hold on his fishing rod, sending it falling into the lake. A blue mouse chittered angrily on his trainer’s behalf before hopping below the water to get the rod.

“Rocket!” the boy cried, grabbing my partner and shoving him away. Phil Jackson, son of the yacht club’s president, looked back and saw me coming. “Shane!”

“Hey, kid. How’s the catch?” I asked with an easygoing smile.

He held out a large pail filled with water. Inside was a trout, I still wasn’t able to tell what kind, about the length of my forearm. “Not too bad. Wanna join me? You can borrow my spare rod.”

“I’d love to, but no. I need to talk to your pops about something. Where’s Vincent?”

“Aww, are you going after the fish thief?”

“Wait, what? Fish thief? Someone’s been stealing from here too?”

“Here too?”

I sighed. We were talking around each other. “Some pokemon got into the food storage. Ruined a bunch of stuff. Rocket and I have been put in charge of tracking down the one that did it. Tell me about the fish thief?”

“Oh, it’s probably not that? There’s a small flock of ducklett that show up to take some fish from the pens every few days. Dad and the other fishermen are there with guns to try and drive them off.”

“Any trouble there?”

Phil shrugged. “Not really? I think it’s not really about the fish for them. They treat it like a game. No one’s gotten hurt. Plue’s fought one of them though.”

“Oh? This little guy?”

“Yup! Plue almost won too! Do you think Plue will evolve if we keep fighting the ducklett?”

“Maybe? I honestly don’t know if game logic applies here,” I said honestly. “Are levels even a thing?”

“How did Rocket evolve then?”

“Ah…” He evolved when he helped me kill someone on my way out from Bend. That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to tell a ten year old kid though. “I guess battling might help.”

“See? Watch! Plue is going to be an azumarill one day!”

“I believe you, Phil.”

“Say, can we help?”

“Hmm?”

“Help you find the culprit. Like a detective!”

I thought about it. Marill weren’t the greatest battlers, not unless one had Huge Power, but I still didn’t know how abilities worked in the world now. I was relatively sure that some abilities could be developed. Sabrina and I theorized that things like Telepathy or Levitate would be teachable to some pokemon while other abilities like Flash Fire might be an innate, biological talent. It probably varied from pokemon to pokemon as well. What I was sure of was that Plue didn’t have Huge Power.

Even if it did, it wasn’t as though Plue was used to fighting for his life like Rocket was. If the thief did turn out to be a dangerous wild pokemon, I didn’t think I could count on the marill as an ally. For that matter, I’d feel awful if something happened to Plue, or Phil. Explaining to Vincent or Elaine that I got their little boy killed wasn’t my idea of a good time.

Then again… Huge Power was useful, but that wasn’t all the marill line had going for them. Marill were known for more than just combat.

In the anime, Tracey Sketchit, Professor Oak’s assistant, had a marill. He was perhaps the most annoying character in the anime, but he did use his pokemon in creative ways. His marill used the oil sac on the tip of its tail to float and had exceptional hearing, one good enough to scan an entire river.

Phil took my silence as grounds to keep begging. “Please? We’ll be super helpful! Plue has been practicing his Water Gun! And his Pound!”

“I’m sure he has, but I don’t need a battler right now,” I said, ruffling his hair. He looked down in disappointment.

“Oh, come on! We never get to do anything around here.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t help. I said I didn’t need a battler. Say, I know a marill has some of the best ears in the world, right?”

“Marill!” Plue cheered, looking like a smug marshmallow.

“And, he can keep an eye on the lake. Sabrina and I think that the food thief might have come from the lake.”

“Ooh, like a totodile?”

“Maybe? But probably not. We found melted metal so it would need to be a pokemon that can learn moves like Acid. It also needs to have tough claws or teeth.”

“Oh, Totodile don’t learn Acid.”

“No they don’t. Which is why, between you and me, I think it might be a toxicroak. You know what those are?”

“FIghting and poison type. But with those cool claws. Ooh, that might be it.”

“And since it’s still a frog or toad or whatever-”

“-it might have come from the lake!” he finished for me.

“That’s right. So I need you and Plue to look sharp. Walk around a little and if you hear something, let me know, okay?”

“Yeah! We’ll catch the toxicroak for sure!”

I almost smiled. It was cute how he’d already decided that the culprit was a toxicroak. It wasn’t likely, but having a living sonar like Plue wandering around would give us a clue if the thief did come from the lake.

“You need to promise to come get me though,” I warned. “Okay?”

“I promise, Shane. Are you going to add the toxicroak to your team after you beat it?”

“Maybe. We’ll see. Be careful, little man.”

“You got it.”

With that, I headed towards the fish pens so I could have that chat with Vincent. He probably wouldn’t mind me putting Phil to work, but the man deserved to know what his son was up to.

X

Vincent and his fishermen had no further information for me where the food thief was concerned. He hadn’t even known about the situation until I told him. On the plus side, the humans and ducklett flock had struck up something resembling a competitive rivalry, to the point that the fishermen had begun to load their rifles with blanks and set aside a few fish for them anyway. That was good; the town could use more pokemon.

Having found nothing at the lake, I headed out towards the farms. Oddish were capable of learning Acid if I remembered right. And, though they weren’t known for it in the games, I wouldn’t put it past the real versions to pick up Razor Leaf. That could potentially explain the gouges. It wasn’t likely, but checking in on them would help me strike off another suspect.

“Rocket, any scent trails you’ve noticed so far?” I asked him as the fields came into view.

“Lin. Linoone,” he grunted. He flicked his nose towards the men, particularly the two sets of carts that got sent back and forth from town. One was for produce, the other was for offal and other food waste to turn into compost.

“Just the usual then, huh?”

“Oone.”

“Yeah, I figured. No way it’d be that easy.”

I’d had him sniff around the Icebox a bit earlier. Unfortunately, because we also did the butchering next door, it was hard for him to pick out unique scents going in and out of the Icebox. Pretty much everything smelled like carcass to him. The most I could get out of him was that the acid used had a distinct smell. Hopefully, he’d be able to identify the culprit if he encountered them even if he couldn’t say which way they’d gone.

“Pat,” I called. The head of the farmers had found himself with a conundrum: Now that it was in June, what did farmers do? He wasn’t always a farmer after all. “How’s it going?”

The answer, as it happened, was “build a greenhouse.” Or several. They weren’t real greenhouses, at least not ones made entirely of glass, we didn’t have the materials or expertise for that, but he and his boys managed to convert a few nearby bungalows into something serviceable with a bit of clever construction.

They basically took out the roof and the non-load bearing sections of wall to insert more windows. The result was a weird, square, polka dotted building with glass and plastic windows for sunlight. The important thing was that the interior was a bit warmer and wasn’t blasted by the wind.

The farmers had managed to grow some summer-y plants indoors, sheltered from the cold wind until they could mature a bit before being taken outside. Apparently, bell peppers, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts were decent picks for this, not that I knew anything about that.

“Not too bad,” he said. He hefted a plastic tray of adolescent plants. “Taking these cucumbers outside. I think the days are warm enough now for them to grow.”

“I’d help but… Say, you seen any of the oddish around?”

“Oddish? What do you want with those little fellas?”

“They can learn Acid. You were here this morning, right?”

“They can? Do you think one of them was responsible? They’re mostly nocturnal so I guess they could have headed into town without anyone noticing.”

“Maybe?” I said. “I don’t think it’s likely but I feel like I should check anyway. Oddish mainly take nutrients from the soil so it’s not like they need the food, not unless they’re lacking some very specific nutrient that they can’t get from the ground or the compost we spread.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” He nudged his head towards the bungalows. “We don’t see them too often though. They like to hide beneath the bungalows during the daytime. If you see some shrubbery in the shade, that’d be them.”

“Thanks, Pat.”

“No problem. You’re not going to just start fighting, are you?”

“Nope. Mostly just ask a few questions.”

“Alright. Good luck, Shane.”

He walked off and I approached the buildings. They were set about three feet above the ground on supports, leaving a shaded area beneath. The space below was good for keeping out vermin and protecting the building from flooding.

I plopped down and took a seat in front of the ramp that led up to the bungalow. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I ought to go about this. How did one interrogate a pokemon anyway? I was fairly sure our culprit wasn’t the oddish, but it wasn’t as though I could just ask.

Then again…

“Say, Rocket, do you mind going down and pulling on an oddish leaf?”

“Linoone?”

“Yup. Go apologize for waking it if it’s asleep, but we need to see it use Acid. See if one of them will show you the attack.”

“Linoone…”

“Then you’re going to smell it. If it smells like the acid we saw, we’ll have to try something else to confirm. If it doesn’t, we can write off the oddish from our list of suspects.”

My buddy gave me a skeptical look but did as I asked. He slunk beneath the bungalow and began to chirp and bark lowly. When he found an oddish that wasn’t quite asleep, he tugged on its leaf until it gave him the time of day.

X

A few minutes later, we had our answer: Turned out, acid, and maybe pokemon saliva, smelled more or less similar. Rocket could tell them apart, but not well enough to fully rule out the oddish.

That led to me grabbing a piece of metal to see if the acid spouted by oddish could melt steel. Which was how we ultimately crossed them off our list.

Rocket and I strolled back into town, curious and determined, if a little disappointed. Considering that none of the fishermen nor Plue were aware of any aquatic pokemon coming onto land, and the oddish weren’t capable of melting metal, I was forced to continue my slipshod investigation. Unfortunate, as I’d hoped I could get this over with quickly.

We were just past the gates when we were greeted by Javier. The squat, Hispanic man had put on some muscle in the months that I’d known him. Not that the ex-army guy was ever skinny, but the constantly active lifestyle gave him a more weatherbeaten look.

I had a feeling we were the same in that regard. I’d gotten more exercise since the bombs dropped than I’d ever wanted. It was funny, how every kid wanted to go on a pokemon journey but no one ever thought about the sheer amount of walking that involved. Short of having a mount or a teleport slave, you’d be getting those steps in and then some.

“Hey, Shane. How goes it?”

“Not bad, man. How’s the wife?” I asked for the sake of small talk. Javier was incredibly lucky in that regard. Somewhere between his rangings, guard duty, and training some semblance of military discipline into the rest of us, he’d managed to draw the eye of a young woman who worked at the town’s sole school. I wasn’t sure how it happened or whether their relationship would last, but for now, one of my few friends was happy and that was enough.

“She’s doing well enough. We’re pretty sure she’s expecting now,” he said with a nervous smile. “You ever go through something like this?”

“I’m twenty-six, man. No, I don’t have a kid.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll get it then. Shit’s scary. I’d almost rather be shot at again.”

“You’ll do alright, Javier. You and Tara get along fine.”

“I know, but a man worries… Say, you busy right now? I heard about the pokemon that got into the Icebox.”

“Right now? Not really. I’ve just been crossing out the obvious suspects. I know now that it’s probably not from the lake. I don’t think something followed the carts in from the farms either.”

“So what next then?”

“A night watch,” I said with a sigh. I wished I could delegate to someone else, but Rocket was by far the strongest pokemon we had, and the one most alert from his time hunting. In the words of a genocidal frog: It had to be me; someone else might get it wrong. “Rocket and I will set up a tent next to the Icebox. We’ll see if something comes back tonight.”

“Good idea, man.”

“What’d you need anyway?”

“Well, Tara asked me to show some of the boys how to shoot a gun. You know, all them little ones at the school.”

“Aren’t they like ten?”

“Most of them, yeah. I was about that old when dad showed me and well…”

“They ain’t got no one else. Point taken.”

“Wanna help me out? Take half the kids? They might like Rocket too.”

I waved him off. “Pass, man. Any other time, maybe, but I was going to catch a nap as soon as I report to Professor Kush. Gotta stay up all night. Maybe tomorrow night too.”

“I still can’t believe you call Sabrina that. Or that Tom hasn’t gutted you for it,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, man. Sucks to be you.”

I flipped him off as I walked away. “Fuck you, Javier. I’d rather deal with pokemon than those little ankle-biters.”

“Yeah? See you around, Shane.”

“Yup.”

X

I reported in with Sabrina so she could collect all the information we’d gathered. She decided to make a chart listing out the likelihood of certain culprits based on what we knew such as habitat, hypothesized diet, affinity for acids, etc. Was this the way to go about an investigation?

Well, truthfully, we had no clue. Just because I lived in the DC area before this all began didn’t mean I worked for the government or was part of the FBI or something. And Sabrina, she was just a vet. The only thing that made either of us qualified was our pokemon knowledge, and of course Rocket being a pal.

She did have the bright idea to take stock of exactly what our thief stole so we could set out some bait. Rocket had dug a small burrow for himself downwind of the food so that he wouldn’t give himself away via scent, if that was applicable to the pokemon we were dealing with at all. Off a ways, myself and Pete, another of my ranger buddies, hung out in a tent, ready to reinforce Rocket if necessary.

We stayed up throughout the night. And the night after that. And after that. All to find our bait completely undisturbed.

Which wasn’t to say nothing happened. Our thief had managed to get into the supplies again, completely bypassing Rocket’s exceptional nose. Worse, the amount of food stolen, and trashed, was increasing. In one night, they carried off two dozen pounds of assorted meats and vegetables, an absolute impossibility for normal animals.

I hated that this didn’t narrow things down. I knew from experience that Rocket ate way more than a normal weasel or ferret. Pokemon seemed energy-positive, that is, they seemed like they produced more energy than they consumed with the way they fired off elemental attacks, but I’d learned that this wasn’t strictly true. Or at least, there was a calculation involving aura that I was too stupid to make out on my own.

Sabrina said something about a heightened metabolism that ran circles around her understanding of biology. She also said that, like with most animals, the diversity and quantity of a pokemon’s diet likely varied dramatically depending on the individual and season of life.

Which was to say, we still didn’t know much.

“I told you they’re worthless,” one of the men, a pudgy, burly fellow who was part of the construction and remodeling team, said. He gestured at myself and Pete angrily. “Alex is right. Either his oversized ‘coon’s the culprit and we’re letting the fox watch the henhouse or ‘Ranger Shane’ has no fucking clue what he’s doing.”

That seemed to be a growing sentiment. It was one I couldn’t readily refute either. I’d tried to be methodical with my investigation, but the bare truth was that I had no results to show for it so far. I’d kept watch for days, only for the culprit to sneak right by both Rocket and I. What else could I say?

I tried to ignore them, but hearing them pointing fingers at Rocket was starting to get on my nerves. Me? I got it. I was hilariously underqualified to be a “real” ranger. Rocket? No way; he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Now, hold on,” Austin said. The mayor’s son had lost a lot of his naivete over the past few months, especially since he almost lost a finger to a metapod of all things, still had the scar, too. Not all, but living in Carnelian Bay had helped him get over himself. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We know it’s not Rocket because linoone can’t use poison type moves anyway.”

“Then I guess Shane ain’t got a clue. So much for the ‘best tracker in town.’”

“Well, what now? Do we set up a perimeter of volunteers every night?” Another person said. I didn’t recognize her, but that wasn’t saying much considering how little I interacted with most of the town.

“We can… Or we can take in the information Shane and Rocket got us and figure things out,” Sabrina said. “Look, we’ve had people watching the lake and the farm. The walls would keep most pokemon from entering through the road.”

“I’m saying it’s a flying type,” Pat added. I did say that makes the most sense, right? Maybe one that can use fire to melt the plastic?”

“Possible, but most flying types are diurnal.” She saw the blank looks on people’s faces and sighed. “They’re awake during the day. And fire is… fire. We would have noticed, surely, especially at night.”

“Okay, so what’s going on then?”

“The culprit is digging from the ground. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“That would bypass the linoone. And it’s not like Shane’s the only one who’s been staying up at night for us. Pete and Javier joined him too,” Austin said. “Between the three of them, I’d trust that we would have seen something coming. Unless the thief just dug up from the ground and there was nothing to see in the first place. We should look around for burrows. If the pokemon’s smart, it’ll have collapsed the tunnel behind it, but that should still leave a sign somehow.”

“Right. Good plan, Austin. You go and see the graveler. Do you think you can get them to help? I know the tunnels have gotten much bigger since we arrived. Could a few of the branches have been abandoned by the graveler and taken up by new pokemon? That’s how ecosystems expand.”

“Maybe? It’s kind of a crapshoot if they’ll help us or not. They like to be left alone. Although… Maybe if I told them that the bones we’ve been sharing with them might  also be ruined?”

“We ought to ask anyway. Take a bribe. That ought to at least get them to hear you out.”

“You’re right. I’ll get on that.” The mayor’s son turned to me. “Wanna come along? You showed us where the thief isn’t, so I figure you may as well see things through.”

I looked down at Rocket, then at Austin. He’d matured a great deal but a part of him still thought he could befriend any pokemon with enough food and good vibes. I was a little worried that he’d get his hand bitten off if he encountered something below ground.

He was one of the few guys around Carnelian who didn’t treat Rocket like a wild tiger. I’d never hear the end of it if something happened to him.

“Yeah, I think we’ll tag along,” I said. I turned to Sabrina with an idea. “Rocket’s not the best digger though. He knows Dig, but I doubt he’s better than a drilbur. Can we bring Spade?”

“Of course you can. Spade’s not a fighter though, remember that,” she said. “He should keep you from getting lost at least though. Be sure to take extra batteries. And maybe something to dig with, just in case, you know?”

“I hear you. When do you think we ought to go?”

Austin scratched his head. “Ah, how about after you get some sleep? You’ve been up all night again.”

I yawned and started to walk away. “Alright, sounds good. You know where my trailer is.”

Author’s Note

I tried experimenting with an "investigation" but I don't think I like this kind of writing. I'm not sure if I'll try to add a mystery like this again. My brain just doesn't work this way.

The thing about cucumbers is true in Tahoe. If you start indoors, you can take the plants out after a bit to finish in the garden.

A few people guessed the thief already. Bravo, you poke-nerds.