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CHAPTER XI
NUMBERED DAYS
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Professor Cid was in his laboratory’s basement room, transfixed at the PC monitors. The Halo Ball was transmitting a constant stream of data from the Arbok that had been captured by one of the hunters.
Paradigms had been broken. Not only had the pokémon’s type been altered, but its level had received a massive boost as well. Professor Cid was even certain it had been an Ekans prior to the ghost-possession. To by-pass literal years of training would be game changing, but to alter the very type of a pokémon… well that was a whole new field of study.
Even still, those were not the most shocking implications the professor gathered from the data. There was something other, an uncomfortable suspicion that had been all but confirmed when Arbok’s vital data began streaming through to his computers.
I must not reveal this. They will take it all.
So far, of all people, it had been the half-blind boy who had captured a target, but the others were closing in on theirs and the professor soon expected to have new data to look at. Going by the one-eyed boy and the blonde-headed one’s account, the targets were dangerous, but the professor did not quite agree with that statement. They had the capacity to be dangerous. He believed the hunters to be relatively safe. Save for the use of Arrest, none of the pokémon he had provided them with would be capable of standing up to Arbok in actual combat, yet there she was, caught securely inside a Halo Ball. The balls had been fitted with encrypted locks, so none other than the professor himself would be able to release the pokémon inside. Despite that, all complex programs were prone to bugs, and he did not want anyone to test the locks in case, by some cosmic chance, they were by-passed.
It was coming to four O’clock in the afternoon, and Professor Cid flicked through the feeds on his monitors to the Tracking Feed. A peculiar development was occurring South. Those two boys seemed to be a magnet for targets. He picked up his mission cellphone and rang the one known as Tomas. The boy quickly answered his call. The professor coughed to clear his throat.
“Hello, professor?” the boy said.
Tomas, the one-eyed one, Professor Cid made note to himself upon hearing the voice.
“Hi, Tomas! I’m only calling to check how you’re doing… I hope you’ve recovered from your frightful encounter with the Arbok you caught.”
Tomas was walking, the scuffing of his clothes sounding with every step. “Yeah, we’re fine, professor! But actually… something weird is going on…”
The professor glanced at his monitors, knowing full-well what the chap was referring to but still asking, “Weird? What is it?”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Well, I don’t think our Tracking Tools are wrong, because they both show the same thing, but there four targets all bunched up together, and we’ve been following another, which we think is leading us right to them…”
“Ask him if he’s got any ideas!” the blonde boy’s voice hissed nearby. “We just barely have enough custom balls. If we miss one, we’ll be screwed!”
Professor Cid listened to the boy recounting the incident with Arbok’s Halo Ball and he would be lying if he said it didn’t unnerve him. The Halo Ball was designed to seal ghost-type pokémon with a virtually 0% chance of break out. It had taken many months of research and prototyping to get the ball to that point, but the latest design had gone through rigorous quality assurance tests and the results were green across the board. To date, no ghost-type had ever managed to resist the ball.
These were no ordinary ghost-types, however, and 100% efficacy could not be guaranteed. Still, he took the incident well. The Arbok had tried to break out but couldn’t.
“I’d tell you not to worry, but I realize how inconsiderate that would be. Bring the Arbok to me as soon as possible.”
“As soon as possible?” Tomas repeated uncertainly.
“Well, after you find out what that bizarre gathering is all about. If you can capture another, even better, but if you feel it’s too dangerous, return as you are. With one target, I should be able to begin the wake-up phase.”
Tomas agreed. “Alright, professor.”
Professor Cid then called Mr. Pelter. Of the three committee members left awake, Mr. Pelter seemed the mildest. Mr. Mahon was inquisitive and prying, and Mrs. Colbs was judgmental and quick to make assumptions. He couldn’t blame them though after what had happened.
“Hi Mr. Pelter, I have some good news,” he spoke into the cellphone. “Some of the boys have managed to make a capture, and I will need access to the patients if I am to resuscitate them.”
Mr. Pelter replied, and the professor glanced at the monitors again.
“Well, the sooner the better, I’d say. I should like to take some readings before they bring the capture back. It will speed things along.”
They ended the call after agreeing on the time, and the professor ambled to the coffee machine. He was in the middle of heating the water when the computer played the short and tuneful sound of an incoming message.
“What now…” he grumbled irritably.
He walked back to the PC with his coffee in hand and clicked open the message with his free hand.
‘From Claros Agustin,’ it read and the professor inhaled. Here we go…
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Dear Director Ciddan,
I hope all is well. It has been several weeks since your last report and I have been tasked with performing a little catch-up with our esteemed Head of Research.
Accountancy said that you ordered for a large number of Prototype V4 Halo Balls and my superiors are wondering whether you’ve got an issue on your hands. Nevertheless, they would like an explanation.
I’m sure you know that at Panthør Society we operate with complete internal transparency, so a full report of your most current activities is expected by the end of the month. We are aware of your dislike for such protocol but have faith in your dedication to the cause. The Society has been most flexible in your particular case, but now make this request of you (they offered no such leeway with previous DoRs).
An auditor will be sent to verify the information you provide.
Yours Kindly,
Claros Agustin (Regional Supervisor)
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Professor Cid took a sip and gently put his coffee down. He swished the bitterness down and exhaled through his nose.
The days of forty-four people had just been numbered.
***