Chapter Fourteen

The magneton police officer had been reduced to a molten mass. One of his magnets still rotated, although Macro wasn't sure if that was more to do with his inner mechanisms still ticking away or if he was somehow still alive. One thing was for certain. Whatever had hit him wasn't an attack from a fire pokemon. There had been no flames in that beam. It was definitely from a laser. But who would have rescued him?

The mawile grit his teeth together and clenches his fists so tightly his claws dug into his paw pads. Whoever had shot the magnet pokemon had likely killed him. That was murder and it would likely fall on his head since he was stood right next to him, completely unscathed (save for a little electrocution.)

"Did you see who did it?" he asked Anchor.

The granbull shook his head. "No. But we need to get rid of the bodies otherwise this place is gonna panic. It only takes one pokemon to send the entire building into an uproar."

"Good plan." Macro moved over to the door and pulled out his lock pick. "Just keep an eye open in case someone's competing over us."

Anchor grunted a noncommittal reply, but Macro didn't see his reaction. He shuffled away under the weight of one of the metal bodies and soon a huge splash emanated from the lake below. Macro eyed his lock pick and turned to where he expected to see a lock, but instead was greeted with a key card panel.

"Darn rich pokemon." He reached into his pouch and pulled out his pocket computer. "Not had to use this method in a while."

The application was simple enough to launch, but holding the computer steady while it streamed incoherent code over the screen was another thing entirely. He kept his back to Anchor and one eye on the doors next to him. Cheerful feminine voices rose over the silence and Macro's heart lurched into his throat. He looked back at Anchor to see him tossing the last of the magnemite over the edge of the balcony to plummet into the lake. He hoped desperately its falling steel carcass hadn't hit any of the water dwellers. The grass where they'd been lying had been burnt completely away, revealing concrete slabs beneath it.

Three dainty pokemon turned the corner - a flaafy, buneary and dedenne - and they eyed the granbull curiously as he stood with his back to Macro, obscuring the mawile from view. The dedenne eyed the grass and whispered something that went unheard to her two friends.

Anchor craned his head back slightly to shout at the door, "Come on, man! They'll be out of watmel cider at this rate!"

The three pokemon raised their eyebrows at him and the flaafy covered her mouth and snickered as they strolled past towards the escalator.

Macro tutted and shook his head. "You think they serve watmel cider in a place like this?"

"It was the fanciest drink I could think of," Anchor grumbled.

The door jerked open and a stocky pikachu stared back at them then looked from Macro to the small computer tablet hovering over his card key panel. His face melted from confusion to fear then anger in an instant. Macro grinned and let out a nervous laugh.

"What's goin' on here?!" the electric mouse shouted in a voice oddly deep for his size.

"Routine room check," said Anchor.

Before the pikachu could reach for a small laser perched on a shelf beside the door, Anchor's large paw swung down past Macro's face to strike the pikachu between the ears. The rodent's tongue poked out from between his lips and he crumpled to the ground. The laser skittered across the laminated floor to vanish beneath a squat sofa. Anchor rubbed his fist with his other paw.

"You really can't touch these pokemon without getting a static shock, can you?" he grumbled.

Macro stepped carefully over the fallen pikachu and scanned the room. It was immaculately tidy down to the coffee table that sported an open can of soda perched on a rubber coaster. The wall mounted television was still on, playing a teenage soap drama and the music coming from it was enough to depress Macro there and then. He reached for the remote, perched neatly on the arm of a leather arm chair, and switched it off before setting the remote back in place.

"Now..." He turned and looked around the room. "If I were an important, confidential disk hiding in someone's apartment... where would I be?"

"Not in a safe," said Anchor. "'Cos it doesn't look like this guy has one."

Macro peered under the arm chair cushion, revealing nothing more than a few crumbs. He dropped onto all-fours and checked beneath the chair. Nothing.

"I'll check the bedroom," said Anchor. "Might be in his drawer of ties and scarves or something."

Macro muttered his acknowledgment and rose to his feet to look around the room again. The glass topped coffee table was very inconspicuous and sported no hiding places. He scurried across the room, checking over the movie shelves that adorned the wall beside the television. It would take a long time to go through every single case and he decided to leave that as a last resort and continue his search for a secure place the pikachu might have hidden the disk.

He paused to remove two photos from the wall one by one, half expecting to find a hidden safe but he ended up being bitterly disappointed. It never was that simple in real life.

"Nothin' in there." Anchor strolled from the bedroom and held out his paw. "Found this tiny key in his drawers though. Thought whatever it was for might have been stored under the bed, but all he had under there was folded up gym equipment."

Macro took the key and eyed it curiously. It was ridiculously small. Much too small for Anchor to have used with his massive paws.

"It must be for something," said Macro. "I'll keep having a look around. You go through all his movie boxes perchance he's hidden it in there."

Anchor looked over at the spread of shelves and let out a long whistle. "Quite the movie buff, eh?"

The granbull strolled over to it and plucked the first one from the shelf while Macro continued his hunt around the apartment. It wasn't unreasonable to suspect the pikachu might have hidden the disk inside one of those cases. Movies were all on small disks these days, far out-dating the use of USBs, and they looked very similar to the ones DL's memories were stored on. However, Macro didn't want to sit and go through every single box without first exhausting every other possible hideyhole.

The mawile opened and closed cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, revealing nothing more than crockery, silver utensils and cleaning equipment. Despite the amount of plates, cups and glasses, the refrigerator was oddly bare. Just a bottle of oran juice and a block of moomoo cheese. He let it close of its own accord and turned back to the living room. Surely he'd missed something...

He gave a glance to Anchor who was sat cross-legged on the floor opening one case after the next and decided to re-check the bedroom. There had to be something they'd overlooked.

The bedroom was just as tidy as the rest of the apartment and one wouldn't even have noticed Anchor had gone through it. Macro checked through the drawers again, finding nothing more than ties, scarves and a pair of virtual reality goggles. His eye drifted over to the bedside table which contained only a pocket computer and a coaster. The computer was kept safely inside a leather sleeve. He scooped it up and tried to open it, failing as it latched on a hidden lock.

"Aha!" A grin split across his face.

He brushed over the front of the case, removing the near invisible circle leather flap from the tiny keyhole. The little key fit inside perfectly and with one turn, the lock snapped open. The LCD screen lit up as soon as the cover left it, showing a female pikachu standing amid a cherry blossom rain. There was nothing suspicious at first glance. The inside cover contained pockets that little sheets of paper poked from. Macro pulled them out carefully one by one, but they were nothing more than notes and website passwords. As he pulled out the final one, something fell from it and landed on the bed. A small, square disk that once again had nothing written on it. His heart leapt into his throat and he scooped it up with a cheer.

"I've got it!" he said as he bolted back into the living room.

Anchor looked up from his nest of movie cases and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh good," he said. "I'll just put all these back then message Matrix."

Macro joined him, stuffing the movies back onto the shelf as neatly as he could. The pikachu was already beginning to stir and he rubbed a yellow paw across his head.

"Don't worry about being immaculate," said Anchor. "He had them in alphabetical order and I ain't messing with that. He knows we were here, and he'll have the headache to prove it."

The granbull grabbed Macro in one paw and he yelled in protest as he was clutched to the large pokemon's chest. Anchor leapt over the pikachu and made for the little outdoor dining area. It was completely empty now. The meowth and skitty that had occupied it previously had long since left. Even their glasses had been cleared away.

The two space pirates looked up at the sky, searching for the hull of Wildcard Gamma amongst the spread of white, fluffy clouds. Some of them showed a tint of grey, threatening to pelt System Ground with rain.

"Oi!" The pikachu staggered over to them, his red cheeks sparking fiercely.

A chill ran down Macro's spine and he stiffened, looking from the yellow rodent to the sky and back. "Hurry up, Matrix!"

He heard the flash of the beam ladder before the blue schooling wishiwashi came into view through the heavy clouds. His eyes remained fixed on the sparking pikachu rushing at them with his paws balled into fists. The electric rodent's feet hammered the floor as he launched himself towards them, electricity spreading all along his fur as he readied a volt tackle.

Anchor grabbed Macro by the horn and yanked him upwards as he kicked off the balcony towards the beam ladder. His large paw grabbed the bottom rung and he threw Macro up towards the next one. The pikachu roared and sent out a stream of electricity towards the two pokemon. It caught Macro just as his claws fastened over the rung and every muscle in his body locked as it coursed through him. It didn't last long but it was enough to make him realise he never wanted to be hit by a thunderbolt on the ground. He spotted the pikachu seething and waving his fists but he vanished from view as Wildcard Gamma rose back into the clouds.

...

Matrix looked up at the two pirates and a smirk spread over his lips. "Nice hair do."

Macro absently smoothed down his prickly fur to no avail and scowled. "Shut up, Matrix."

"I take it that pikachu zapped you?" The ribombee turned back to his navigation screen and tapped in co-ordinates that meant nothing to Macro.

"What makes you ask that?" he scoffed.

Despite the pikachu's attack, the only effect it had left behind was an uncontrollable static that made his fur stick out like a frightened jolteon's. No amount of smoothing was going to sort it out any time soon. DL eyed him curiously and he could almost see her looking over different solutions to his staticky problem.

He turned back to Matrix and frowned at the radar screen. "Did you have any problems with our stalker? Any surprise attacks?"

"Nope, none," said Matrix. "They vanished, actually. We've not seen them since."

"I never had to use the ship's weapons," said DL. "But at least I now know how to use them should we face any problems in the future."

"Fantastic," said Macro.

"Did you manage to get the disk?" Matrix asked.

"Of course we got the disk."

"Good." Matrix fixed him out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "Otherwise your new plush toy hairdo would be in vain, right?"

Macro slammed the disk down beside him and fixed his violet eyes on the smaller pokemon's black ones. The ribombee didn't so much as flinch. He took the disk and reached for his computer.

"Okay, DL." Macro turned to the pachirisu. "Matrix is going to install more data into you. You're gonna let him do it."

She blinked a couple of times then nodded. "Okay. If that is what you wish."

She took the cable and plugged it in herself, then sat down at Matrix's feet. The little bug pokemon fired up the disk and once again her pupils expanded until they took over most of her large, chocolate eyes. It wasn't as alarming as the first time, but it still made Macro feel anxious. If something went wrong, she would probably be irreparable. He leant against the back of his seat on one elbow, keeping his full attention on DL. Seeing her sat there like that, she really did seem artificial. If he hadn't had confirmation she actually was a living, breathing pokemon he'd have wondered if he'd been mistaken.

Finally, her eyes returned to normal and she blinked once. Twice. Then stood up, the cable still fastened into the back of her skull. She turned her head left and right, looking around the cockpit as though she'd never seen it before in her life. A look of confusion spread across her face and her chocolate eyes widened slightly.

"Where am I?" she asked.

Macro raised an eyebrow and pushed himself away from his seat. "Wildcard Gamma. The same place you've been for several nights now."

"Wildcard Gamma..."

She spoke the word as though she was tasting it, staring blankly at the floor. Then she looked up at him and he took a step back. It wasn't a blank, unreadable stare, or the curious look of a lifeless android. It was one of worry. Someone who wanted answers. Someone who truly had no idea where she was or who she was with.

"I'm sorry," she said as she took a step towards him. "I don't-"

The cable went taught and she reached a paw around to the back of her head, feeling over the jack lead. Her eyes became impossibly wide and the skin beneath her white fur lost every trace of colour. She let out a scream and crumpled to the floor, where she was promptly sick. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she lay sprawled on cockpit floor.

Macro took another step back, more so to avoid getting any vomit on his fur. But he couldn't take his eyes off her. Yes, the disk had worked, but he couldn't help feeling responsible that he was the one who'd done this to her. This terrified pachirisu was partly his fault...

Anchor leapt to his feet. "I'll go and get the mop bucket."

The granbull raced from the cockpit towards the wash room, narrowly avoiding Matrix as he maneuvered around DL's unconscious body. Macro caught the ribombee's eye and he glanced from DL and back while winding his antennae around one paw.

"I think we need to get her to her room," Matrix said.

Macro nodded stiffly and stooped to remove the cable from her skull. With Matrix's help, they both managed to lift her and carry her down the corridor.

"I think we can safely say the disks work," said Matrix.

"Yeh." Macro tried to avoid looking at DL, instead intently focusing on moving backwards towards her room. "But I'm starting to wonder if that's really a good thing."

...

It was already dark by the time Tracer and Widget reached Binary City. The entire rear of the prestigious entertainment centre had been cordoned off, and the delphox leant against one of the bollards as he puffed on his cigar.

Paramedics were still busting around as they lifted the metal bodies into the ambulance, but Tracer was convinced they'd be well and truly dead by now.

Melted.

The magnezone officer and his small fleet of magneton and magnemite had been melted. A sudden blast of heat that he assumed would have come from a laser. Even a flareon's flamethrower didn't get hot enough to melt a pokemon in one flash like that. But from what he'd been told, there'd been no damage to the surrounding structures to suggest it had been a prolonged attack, so the officials had written it off as a sudden blast of heat. Tracer completely agreed with them.

He removed his cigar to flick ash onto the cobbled floor, watching as the last of the melted steel types were tossed unceremoniously into the back of the ambulance.

"Grim, eh?" said Widget.

"That's an understatement if ever I've heard one," said Tracer.

"And they've no idea who did it?"

"Oh, they have an idea." Tracer took another drag on his cigar. "A pikachu said his apartment got raided by Hunter and one of his goons. They swatted him before he could even act."

"So they think it's him?" Widget's tattoo crinkled as he frowned. "I didn't think he had a fire laser."

"That's not to say he hasn't acquired one."

"But he doesn't need one, does he?"

"His trademark attacks wouldn't work on a magnezone. So I'm not ruling it out."

"And why toss them into a lake?" Widget asked. "Didn't he practically lead a protest against 'murdering' water dwellers five years ago?"

"I don't know why you're using air quotes when you're against them being used for food yourself."

Widget shrugged. "It's a grey area."

"Well. If he needed to hide them quickly..." The delphox looked up at the balcony three floors above them. "Then throwing them into the lake is the easiest way to go about it."

"I would've just bust a door down and tossed them into some random apartment," said Widget.

Tracer eyed his wagging tail and shook his head. "I hope desperately that's just a fictitious scenario you're dreaming up."

"Of course it is."

"Let's have a check over the balcony, shall we? They might have missed something."

Widget leapt to his feet and followed Tracer across the park towards the building. A bibarel stood aside from the door to let him inside. He wasn't sure why a bibarel would have been called out with the paramedics since there hadn't actually been a fire, but he guessed it was best to play it safe just in case. The beaver pokemon frowned slightly and stretched out his paw towards Tracer's cigar.

The delphox stared at it for a moment then stubbed it out on the wall before tossing it into the nearest trash can. As the doors slid shut behind him, he heard a small spray of water as the bibarel rinsed the ash off the stonework.

The escalators and elevators were still working with pokemon crowding around them as they tried to get to their entertainment destinations. Most of the shops were now closed with only a couple of arcades open that weren't major gambling areas. A snorlax towered over the smaller pokemon, keeping a watchful eye on the crowds. He wore a yellow and black sash over his shoulders, a clear indicator that he wasn't there for a night out. Security was important in places like this and the more imposing the pokemon the better.

Tracer flashed his investigator badge at the crowd around the elevator and moved through them into the glass shell. A few other pokemon flowed in after him, their warm bodies increasing the temperature in the cozy confines. It stopped more times than he desired on it's way to the balcony, exchanging pokemon on the way.

Much to his surprise, the apartments weren't under strict investigation. The burnt patches of fake grass had a string of yellow tape around them, held up on plastic bollards and leaving enough space for pokemon to move past. Although the larger species would have had a harder time doing so.

Tracer left Widget to sniff over the ground as he checked over the walls around the burnt grass. No damage to the door to indicate a break in, but from what he'd gathered Hunter had been using his computer to bust through the card key lock. Just as he'd been told, there were no burn or heat marks on the walls. Just the grass where the officer's white hot body had landed.

"Hey, Tracer?"

Widget's large, brown eyes stared at him from the corner of the outdoor dining area.

"What is it?" Tracer asked.

"Right here..." Widget lowered his nose to the fake grass. "I can smell Surge."

Tracer raised an eyebrow and strolled over to him, his long trench coat billowing in the soft breeze. The area looked innocent enough, but the eevee's nose never lied.

"What do you think she was doing here?" Widget asked.

Tracer scratched behind his ear and let out a small breath. "She's taken a job for Socket."

"Yeh? But why would she be here? Binary has a good reputation with Meta City."

"I don't think she was here primarily to do something in Binary City."

Widget looked up at him out of the corner of his eye, keeping his nose to the ground.

"My guess," said Tracer. "Is that she's been told to take out Hunter."

The delphox's eye drifted back to the yellow tape and burnt grass.

"You've got that look in your eye again." Widget sat down heavily. "You've sussed something, haven't you?"

Tracer scratched his ear again and sighed. "I'm just thinking... that it wasn't him who fired that laser."

"You think it was Surge?"

Tracer was silent as he mulled this over. The shot had been clean enough to not touch any of the building. It was a purposeful, targeted shot. He let his paw fall to his side and slide into his deep pockets.

"She's a good shot," he said. "I've seen her work many times. It's always been on point."

"Aye," said Widget. "She often shoots to stun."

"Exactly." Tracer leant against the wall and pulled out another cigar, placing it between his teeth and lighting it with a quick flame from his nose. Thin smoke curled up from the end, rising into the twilight air. "So why would she miss Hunter and take out an entire magnezone fleet?"