Those few with backing and money still had a chance at "coming back to life". The ones without money were in for a bad time of it.
Whichever way you turned it over, what you needed was strength.
It made Vance long for strength all the more. Strength was the thing.
But strength took time. If only it worked the way it did in the television dramas — turn evil, get ten times stronger.
Vance reckoned he could turn evil in a minute flat; unfortunately reality did not work like that. He had joined Team Rocket, which counted as turning evil pretty thoroughly, and he was still not strong. Beating up on rookies, fine. Run into one of the old birds at Elite-Four-class and he would be taught his manners in a minute — and quite possibly they would be laying on the funeral spread for him on the spot.
"Never mind. I'm going to rest for a while. Let me know if anything comes up."
"Right, boss. Go and rest, we've got it."
"Mm. Good."
Vance went to the quarters the base had assigned him, shut the door, and took out a Poké Ball.
He had not really looked at it when it came into his hands; he knew only that there was a Torchic inside.
The Fire-type starter of the Hoenn region. In the anime, May had raised one — it looked good and it was strong.
"Come out, Torchic."
Red light swept past and a Pokémon like a chick appeared, small chest out, fluffy head raised, its eyes sliding sideways at Vance.
Yes — it was looking at him sideways, cool and haughty with it.
"Torchic—"
Chest still out, the Torchic set off walking circles round Vance and looking him over, as though judging whether he was fit to be its Trainer.
"Hello, Torchic."
Vance crouched down of his own accord and greeted it.
On the system's panel, the Torchic's details came up.
> **Name:** Torchic (male)
> **Type:** Fire
> **Ability:** Speed Boost
> **Aptitude:** Gym-class
> **Level:** 7
> **Moves:** Scratch, Growl, Focus Energy, Ember, Peck
Every figure there met what Vance wanted, and it moved him to want the Pokémon for himself — which was why he had been the first to say hello.
These starters were all prepared for new Trainers, and their temperaments and potential and so on were all good.
They were young, too, and did not much understand what the world outside was like. In a fight like the one just past they had no idea who was good and who was bad; they knew only that they would meet a Trainer, follow that Trainer out on a journey, and grow up together — which was what the kindly keepers at the Day Care had told them.
"Torchic—"
The Torchic seemed to sigh. Having looked Vance over from every side, it came and stood in front of him and cheeped at him.
"Hah. So this is my Trainer? Doesn't look very bright. Face like a man short of sleep, not a scrap of vigour in him. Is he going to raise me properly?"
"Hm?"
With his psychic power, Vance naturally understood what the Torchic was saying. He said nothing for the moment, meaning to see what else it would come out with — a good chance to learn something about this Pokémon's temperament.
The tiredness in his face was real enough. One hard-fought battle, and then a chase that had not been especially frightening but had carried a great deal of risk — it took it out of a man.
"Think of it. Me, a Torchic of surpassing intelligence, unbeaten in the whole Day Care, and the Trainer I get is this. Hah. Never mind, never mind." The Torchic shook its head with all the air of an old man about it, and then its eyes hardened.
"Then I, Torchic, shall carry this foolish Trainer."
"Torchic—"
"Hello, Torchic. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
"Hmph. He has to ask? Not an eye for anything at all. Doesn't know whether the great Torchic here is hungry or not, and he calls himself my Trainer??" The Torchic cheeped it out, prickly and pleased with itself at once.
Smiling, Vance brought out Moomoo Milk, put it together with some soft, sticky Pokémon food, added a few drops of the honey left over from last time, and set it down in front of the Torchic.
"Eh? What's this? Smells rather good. Well, one mouthful, just to see." The Torchic put its head forward and took a sip.
"Torch—"
A satisfied look came over its face. Not bad, not bad at all. This was a flavour a Torchic could like.
Then it put its head down and set to with a will, and small as it was there was nothing half-hearted about the way it ate; the lot was gone in no time.
"Burp— not bad, not bad. The Trainer looks a bit slow, but he's not bad at this. He'll just about do as a Torchic's Trainer. Burp—"
The Torchic sat on the floor propping up its round little belly and burped several times.
"So full. Still, you have to eat your fill. You need a full stomach to train on."
The Torchic lay back, lazy with it, and once it was full the sleepiness came on.
Vance paid it no mind, cleared the things away, and came back to find the Torchic already asleep on the floor.
"Heh—"
Vance took soft, warm cloth out of his storage bracelet, made a nest of it, and laid this Torchic, which had rather a lot going on inside its head, down to rest.
From the moment it came out it had been chirping away without a pause, convinced he could not understand a word of it.
Vance sat down cross-legged nearby at once and began to meditate and recover. It had been a tiring day, but there had been something in it.
Besides finishing a mission for the organisation he had come away with this starter as well, which counted as winning handsomely. The Torchic did rather put on a performance, but its aptitude was good and there was a great deal that could be made of it, so Vance did not mind that.
By the showing it had just made, this Torchic had a mind of its own — and a Pokémon with a mind of its own was a good thing, as far as Vance was concerned. He was no dictator, with everything to be done his way, prosperity for those who submitted and death for those who did not.
All he would do was guide them, so that his Pokémon took fewer wrong turnings and grew up better and faster.
Minute by minute the time went by. In the nest that had been built for it the Torchic rolled over, both feet in the air, its soft belly showing.
Slowly, the Torchic opened its eyes.
"So comfortable. What is this thing, that it's so comfortable? Oh — no, wait. I seem to have gone off with some silly Trainer. I'd just eaten my fill, and then I fell asleep." The Torchic's eyes cleared and it climbed out of the nest.
Its fluffy head turned to take in the room, and found Vance meditating to one side.
"Torchic—"
"You're awake, Torchic."
Vance had opened his eyes the moment it spoke, and he said it gently.
"Torchic—"
Chest out and head high, the Torchic called out to them.
"I want to go and train. Never mind — you won't understand me anyway." With that thought the Torchic hopped out of the nest, jerked its beak toward the door and went on cheeping.
"Come on, come on, come on, training. I need to get strong quickly. I hear we're going adventuring out in the wild, and being weak won't do — those things out there will eat us. Don't be frightened, though. I, Torchic, will look after you. Never mind, no use telling you, you won't understand. Open the door, then, my foolish Trainer."
"Torchic—"
"Heh. You want to go and train, do you, Torchic? Don't be in such a hurry. Have a little more to eat first, and I'll take you out in a while."
Smiling, Vance brought out food again, mixed it up and set it in front of the Torchic.
With a Pokémon as young as this, where circumstances allowed, the best way to feed it was little and often.