Calling on its own Trainer for help was the Sandslash's answer.
It could not do it itself, but its Trainer could — and in that case it could do it too.
"Boom—"
The Flygon struck the ground and smashed out a huge, deep crater. Sand and dust flew up and blocked the view, and there was no telling what was happening inside.
"Ssh-ssh—"
From within the dust came the sounds of a fierce fight.
The moment the Sandslash called for help Vance had acted, Teleporting it out of danger and shifting it elsewhere.
Taking advantage of the Flygon's downward momentum, the Sandslash hurried in to put another blow on it.
Perrin watched the middle of the field tensely, his fists clenched. Surely there was nothing wrong?
The dust was in the way, and he was not a Psychic; he could not make out the scene inside.
There were only the sounds, and no knowing yet how it had gone.
Any other time he would have felt it was safe, but this time he had come up against this Sandslash, and he did not feel it was safe at all, for all the great advantage he had held a moment ago.
And when the dust cleared he was struck dumb, because the Sandslash had not been beaten; it was up on top of the Flygon, locked in a furious fight with it.
A good many wounds had appeared on the Flygon, and its wings in particular were slightly bent, so that its flying speed was greatly reduced.
Perrin could not understand it. This Sandslash could still wound the Flygon? Had they not held every advantage a moment ago — the Sandslash trapped in the ground with next to no power to strike back? How could this be?
Perrin found it uncanny, and could make nothing of it.
This Sandslash was utterly off the scale.
The fact of it was that Vance had acted. At the same time as he got the Sandslash out, he had also put a light wound on the Flygon, cutting into its fighting power and levelling the gap between it and the Sandslash.
Only Perrin could not see it. Several people in the grounds did see it, but they only smiled and said nothing.
It did not break any rule, after all; it was a normal thing. Trainer and Pokémon were one body, and a Psychic could naturally take a hand.
That was exactly why so many people envied psychic power.
Set against ordinary people, it really was a great advantage.
The Sandslash's body, spinning at high speed, slammed hard into the Flygon; several Swifts followed close behind, and as it turned over it let Poison Sting out as well, which stuck into the Flygon's body.
"Yow-yow—"
With its body hampered, the Flygon had no way out. Its eyes hardened; it dragged itself and the Sandslash together and dropped hard to the ground.
It called up the strength of the earth, and wave upon wave of it came in towards the centre. The Sandslash was held fast by it and would take the attack with it.
This was the Flygon's last counter-stroke.
If it worked, it might trade heavy wounds to carry this troublesome opponent off with it; if it did not, it had still done everything it could.
It pinned the Sandslash down and would not let it escape, and together they would meet the force that was coming.
But then it saw the Sandslash smiling, and cried out inwardly that this was bad.
The next second an overwhelming psychic force came straight in, settled on the Sandslash, ignored the binding entirely, and moved it away.
That force again!!
And by now there was no stopping it. The Flygon watched helplessly as the Sandslash left, and took its own attack alone.
"Boom, boom, boom—"
The earth shook violently. The move the Flygon had set off itself, the move that was to drag the Sandslash down with it, had come to nothing, and it had taken the blow alone.
"Flygon!!"
Perrin shouted. By the time he could see the Flygon it was already badly hurt, its presence faltering.
He did not know what it had been planning, but Perrin trusted the Flygon's judgement in a fight. Something must have happened that he did not know about and could not have reacted to.
"Yow-yow—"
The Flygon gave a long cry. Perrin listened closely, and seemed to understand something, without truly understanding it at all.
A cold light flashed. The Sandslash had crept up beside it and put out its sharp claws.
"Yow—"
The Flygon let out a shriek, and then it was unable to battle.
"Ssh-ssh—"
The Sandslash nodded. It had beaten another powerful opponent.
"Flygon is unable to battle. Sandslash wins. The victor of this match is the competitor Vance."
The referee announced it.
"Ssh-ssh—"
The Sandslash accepted the praise coming at it from every side quite composedly, and even gave a very human bow of thanks.
"Good heavens, is that really a Sandslash?"
"What did I just watch — a Sandslash beating a Charizard and a Flygon? What is going on?"
"Ha ha ha, when I get home I'll have something to boast about: an ordinary Pokémon is no worse than a starter."
...............
It was not only Perrin in the grounds who was shaken; the spectators were too.
Pokémon of the Sandslash's sort were very ordinary Pokémon. This was off the scale, surely — a starter and a Dragon-type Pokémon, and neither of them could beat it.
All of this was caught on film by the information brokers in the crowd as well. It made very good material.
And as the Sandslash's Trainer, he had now been marked by other people too. Anyone who meant to fight through to the end would keep him in mind.
"You're a Psychic, aren't you."
Perrin said it hesitantly as they shook hands; he had worked it out by now.
Vance only smiled and did not answer him, and after the handshake he walked off.
"He must be a Psychic. I didn't lose for nothing."
Perrin said it with a sigh. There was nothing for it but to leave the field crestfallen. He had thought he might take the title, and instead he had run into Vance.
As he was walking, a woman with a spirited air came up in front of him and stopped there.
"So it seems you've been hiding rather deep yourself."
Cerise said it with a light laugh. In the battle just now she had seen Vance's hand in it, and knew him for a Psychic.
"You never asked, did you."
Vance shrugged. He was not afraid of people knowing he was a Psychic.
If Cerise could see it, others could all the more.
That way the value he showed was greater, and the more he would get out of it afterwards.
What ought to be shown should be shown; there was no need to keep it hidden for ever.
Showing one's worth at the right moment was an entirely proper thing to do.
"Impressive, Vance. I never thought you were hiding it this deep — I didn't see it at all. No wonder your face was so calm that day. So that was it."
Cerise narrowed her eyes and looked the young man in front of her over carefully, and found something more about him.
A Psychic, and no weak one either. By the way he had handled the Flygon, he was at Gym-class level too, the same rank as herself.
To think that in this year's field, besides her, Vance was a Psychic as well. It was quite unexpected.
"I really am curious. How many cards have you got left in your hand?"
"You want to know?"
Vance looked at her with a faint smile.
"I do. Will you tell me?"
"Of course I will. I only need you to agree to one thing."
"What thing? Say it, and I might just agree."
Cerise answered, a pair of clear eyes on him.
"It's this. Come and work for me. Become one of mine, and I'll tell you."
Vance said it laughingly.
"Pff." Cerise laughed out at once. So the thing had turned itself about: she had been the one who wanted to bring him over, and here he was wanting to bring her over to work under him instead.
"Is that it? Never mind, then. I'm not at the end of my rope yet. When I am at the end of my rope, I'll think about it."
"Fair enough. The offer stands, whenever. I'll be waiting."
Vance stepped past her, went off towards the corner and found himself a seat.
Cerise's eyes turned, and she followed after him to go on fishing.
She was terribly curious herself: how had this one-time workmate of hers, without a word to anybody, come along as far as this?
By rights it was impossible, and yet in fact it had happened.
So she was hunting for that "impossible", with the curiosity in her pressing her to know.
But Vance was not going to tell her the truth either. He was vague about it, and however she fished it did her no good.
If she wanted it, she could come and work for him.