Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction / Urusei Yatsura Fan Fiction ❯ Poke Walk ❯ Advantages and Sacrifices ( Chapter 8 )

Poke Walk: Chapter 8 - Advantages and Sacrifices

Disclaimer:

Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. The characters of "Magical Twilight" are the property of Pink Pineapple {Japan} and SoftCel Pictures {USA} from the ideas of Akane Shinshakan and Kinya Watanabe. The characters of Tenchi Muyo are the property of AIC, Hiroki Hayashi, and Yousuke Kuroda. The characters of Urusei Yatsura are the property of Kitty Films - Fuji TV, AnimEigo, and Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of Bubblegum Crisis are the property of Studio AIC (Anime International Company), JVC and AnimEigo.

Some other characters and situations used with permission.

Special Disclaimer:

Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.

"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: <kelvins.choice@att.net>

Reno: Colonel, do me a favor? Explain to this moron that in none of the plays of Shakespeare can there be a part for Superman.
Nammack: There could be, the way I explained it.

The Ninth Configuration - William Peter Blatty

     Layla moved through the halls. She was good at avoiding the patrols, who were more interested in keeping someone in, than keeping someone out. The man in the room had the sword against her throat before she even had the door fully open. "Maybe you would have a chance in tomorrow's duel."

     "Kindly state your business, ma'am," he told her. His mind was completely closed to her.

     "I'm not here to save you," she offered, "I'm here to save her?"

     "I'm new in town, which 'her'?"

     "Honey," Layla explained, "She's quite a local hero, or was when Askelon let her out to be a hero. Now she's little more than a stick to use to bully competitors or challengers, like you. She's killed a number of Pokègirls right before Sadie Poken's Day, all so she'd be too depressed to try to get away."

     The man removed the sword from her neck and gestured for her to enter his room. She carefully closed the door behind her and used a device to sweep for listening devices. Finding none, she nodded to the man.

     "So you want me to avoid killing her?"

     She frowned in exasperation. "I want you to run away so she doesn't kill you!"

     "I'm just investigating all possibilities. I might actually win."

     She shook her head at the stubbornness of males in general. "No one would expect you to fight for yourself."

     "They all found out I have a Seraph and a Storm Demon, both are experts with swords. So that really doesn't apply," he told her.

     "Then let them fight."

     "And have her slaughter a Pokègirl? Isn't that what you were trying to avoid?" the man asked.

     Layla wanted to beat her head against the wall, or his head against any hard surface. "Yes, but better a Pokègirl than a human, you do know the penalties for killing a human, don't you?"

     "Defenestration," he said, "Look, I do know what I'm doing. After all I asked and was told, in front of witnesses, that the fight was between him and me."

     "That won't hold water, everyone knows that a Pokègirl battle is the deciding element."

     "So you care about her so much you'll risk your life and your mistress's reputation for this?"

     "Mistress?" she asked.

     "Considering the awful things Askelon said about Miss Taylor, about her Psidyke ancestry, and you are a PsiLady. It doesn't require Sherlock Holmes to make the connection, and if I could make it, others who know you could make it as well."

     "I was careful," she replied. He's right, I don't see a Pokèdex, so how did he know? she wondered.

     "In any case, I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to stay up all night. If you really want to help her, consider what to do if I win. How do you intend to get her away from him?"

     And that is the problem, she thought as she slipped out.

     The girls were playing cards, patiently. None of them were willing to challenge the military guards who were there to prevent them from escaping.

     "How can you just sit there?!" one military Herowu asked.

     "We are outnumbered 4-to-1," Misato said, stared at her cards, "You took our weapons. We'd hardly be a match for you."

     "Even if we got through - " Mara added, "I'll take two. We'd be in no shape to help him. Better we're in good condition, come what may."

     "Besides," Ritsuko said, "If he needs us, he'll send for us." Ritsuko watched the military force getting more and more nervous. They can't understand, Ritsuko thought, Why take the chance? Especially since most are ex-military, and the rest know the bond between Mara and our Master, if she's calm, then, we're calm.

     "He'll send a messenger for us before day break," Mara said, "Just the holy guard and me." Before Misato could answer. "He'll want to party after he wins."

     Misato blushed furiously, Mara hid her smile better than she usually did.

     Not well enough, Ritsuko thought, Not enough to fool me. Yet.

     "Perhaps he will want to use your swords," Oyuki pointed out.

     Now both of the invitees are nervous, Ritsuko thought as she scanned her cards, And Oyuki will insist she meant for fighting, and be mystified we took it any other way.

     "You're from Redwood, aren't you Ritsuko?" Kiyone asked, "So what's the story?"

     "Back in the old days, where Taming was 'Strap the Pokègirl down and boink her until she likes it', Zachary Taylor caught a number of Psidykes, they applied the operation and, several of them were Pokèwomen, so numerous offspring were produced. The family has had a strong streak of nearly psychic intuition, and the women got a streak of lesbianism and bisexuality, the males got the physical durability. 'Take a Taylor girl-watching,' indicating ubiquity. They all got a yen to go to sea, they made a fortune, but were marked as having 'tainted' blood. They did what they could to fight the idea that they were just waiting to become monsters. Mao's rebellion really hurt their cause."

     "So it's just prejudices," Kiyone said.

     "This isn't the frontier, like the Cascade Islands. We have spare food and time to invent new and better ways of being stupid and short-sighted."

     "You never met Milgrew Jones if you think we didn't have that kind of stupidity on St. Helen's."

     "But he was the mayor's son as well," Ritsuko commented.

     "You are also forgetting Mihoshi," Oyuki pointed out, "Her type of stupidity is . . . hard to classify."

     "The Mihoshi situation would . . . " Kiyone said, shuddering.

     "Gem!" their newest member set down her cards.

     "Somebody tell me how a Feralborn who can only say her name can beat all of us at a game we just taught her," Mara watched the girl rake in the pot.

     "Gem . . . " the girl held up a slip of paper reading 'dishes', indicating one 'get out of doing dishes' event. The others anted the same. Kiyone added a 'Carries the water', indicating she might have a good hand.

     The day was cool and clear, no ground fog, no clouds to spare the universe. Jeff watched it silently. He'd heard people trickle in. He'd ignored them, as was his right as a duelist. Or the condemned man as they all thought, he thought, They are all wrong. Titto's are vulnerable to sonics, I could just sing at the top of my lungs and win.

     He nodded to Hiram who had decided to attend. I think I can depend on my swordsmanship. He looked up to see Misato and Mara approaching, surrounded by a cordon of military, as both of the winged-warriors bore their swords.

     Askelon arrived and Cutey Honey stood at his side. He wore an expensive suit and seemed alarmed that Jeff was in shirt sleeves practicing various strokes with his staff. He saluted Cutey and watched her grow nervous, then she looked around. She seems relieved I've got Pokègirls, he thought as he approached. He gave each a brief hug, Misato blushed, Mara loudly moaned 'Master we're in public!' Jeff narrowed his eyes at Mara's terribly innocent expression. He covered it by examining the two blades. He decided to go with Misato's. It feels more correct, he thought as he made a few strokes to remind himself on the balance.

     "This duel is to the death," the judge told both combatants. "Excuse me, sir. Your Pokègirls -?"

     "Askelon challenged me, I will carve him up next, unless he runs away. I had heard he was a craven coward, but I foolishly failed to heed the warnings. The scope of his gallantry and chivalry was obviously under-reported dramatically."

     Askelon took a step forward, only to be pulled back by one of his `friends`. "I'll see to it your Pokègirls - "

     "What are the rules on someone interfering with a duel?"

     "Their Pokègirl is forfeit," the judge said.

     "That's never been enforced!" Askelon complained, understanding at last.

     "Rarely is a human forced to face a skilled Pokègirl," Hiram interjected.

     Askelon fumed but fell silent.

     Jeff had left the two magnates to duel their way while he examined Cutey. Nicely built redhead, are those gold boots and gloves, and the red leather straps her, or actual clothes? he considered the V of red that covered her nipples and met to cover her crotch, All that leaves to the imagination is whether she shaves, and the actual color. It can't be practical or comfortable to fight in.

     Jeff dismissed the thought as he took the Hanging Guard. The citizens gasped at the inept looking stance. But Cutey looks unnerved, he thought as he watched her try to stab him. He parried easily, circling away from her strong side. Good. Everyone thinks she's playing with me, he thought, And she realized I'm the one playing.

     He heard Askelon giving orders. And your Pokègirl grimaces while she carries out the useless attack, because she knows it won't work. If he let her off her leash she might have a chance, he thought as he apparently barely parried her latest stroke, Yet you still falter. You know if he'd just let you fight, you'd do better. He wants to punish me, so you are content to play the puppet. I respect your intelligence and your insight, you know how you might finish me off, painlessly, rather than play with me.

     At Askelon's command, Cutey looked disgusted, but began a series of hand-to-hand sword tosses, making it impossible to tell if the next attack would be right or left-handed. He heard a noise from Mara and an angry exchange between her and Misato. He left that to them, and concentrated on the girl in front of him, who was looking more disgusted with the game by the second. Jeff waited for a particularly complex spin, and knocked the sword out of the air. Cutey made her first mistake, she watched the sword as she tried to recover. Jeff's elbow hit her in the stomach as his sword hilt caught her behind the ear.

     Cutey went down, instantly changing into a blonde in a more modest white dress. She paled as she felt the blade touch her throat.

     Jeff saw the Pokègirl's look of resignation and relief as he drew his arm back and thrust, hitting the target and driving the blade several inches into the turf.

     Honey touched the side of her neck, where the blade had nicked her. She touched it, felt her hand come away with specks of blood.

     "You're dead," her opponent told her, "Agreed?"

     I know I'll be punished, she thought, But I don't want to die. "Agreed," she said.

     "Misato," he said. The Seraph tossed him Honey's lost sword, and he began stalking towards Askelon. The Seraph helped her to her feet, healing her injury.

     "He won't kill him, although he may long for death," the Seraph, Misato, whispered to her.

     "I played your little diversion, but everyone heard that you challenged me, not your Pokègirls. Let me see if you have the guts to put it to the test. To put your skin on the line."

     "This is insane!" Askelon said as he backed away, "It has never been done this way."

     "Then maybe it should change," he told her owner, she realized she'd never regarded him as her Master.

     "NO!" Honey shouted as Gregory, the butler, stepped in front of Davis.

     "I cannot allow it," Gregory said as he stood with his arms outstretched.

     "Old man, he won't thank you for proving you're a better man than he is."

     "None-the-less." Gregory accepted the sword.

     "You've trained?" Jeff asked as Gregory took a competent stance.

     "Some," Gregory said hopefully.

     Then Honey's heart sank. My lessons killed him, she thought, The one kind soul in my existence.

     "Unfortunate," the man said, "You're unlikely to make the kind of rookie mistakes that might turn the tables. Let's change that. Hanging Guard." Gregory took up Jeff's hilt above head, point down diagonally across the body stance. "It has advantages in the defense above." Jeff swung high and Gregory parried, barely. "Below." Jeff thrust at Gregory's feet, and he was able to cover.

     For the next few minutes, Jeff gave a running commentary on parries, attacks and the history of the technique, Jeff was openly showing his confidence in his grip and his skills. Gregory parried as best he could, he was eager, but he was an eager student being tutored by a master. Then Jeff darted in and delivered his strike, a single scratch along the cheekbone below the eye.

     Gregory was devastated, he dropped the sword he'd carried.

     "You have fought bravely, for that, I will allow your Master to ransom his life," Jeff saluted Gregory, who nodded. Gregory stooped to pick up Honey's blade, he carried it to the Pokègirls and handed it to Misato, while the Storm Demon stood ready to defend the Seraph, should Gregory attempt some treachery.

     "You did well," Misato offered while she took the blade. With her other hand, she reached for the wound.

     "Leave him a bit of a scar," the Storm Demon suggested with a smile, "Gives him a dashing piratical air."

     "Mara!" Misato chided, then healed the scratch completely.

     Honey watched as Askelon and his circle of friends looked at the advancing swordsman with fear.

     "You challenged me, not my Pokègirls, not my man-servants, me. You will show the courtesy of facing me. Your manservant bought you the right to ransom, that is, buy your life."

     The approach of an angry, armed man had a magical effect on Askelon's `friends`. Like faerie gold in the sunlight, they and their glitter faded away instantly. The other officials likewise said nothing as Askelon looked around seeing no friendly or even sympathetic faces among the humans. The attitude of the crowd was definitely against him.

     And will instantly turn against me, if so blows the popular breeze, Honey thought. Honey took a step forward, only to be pulled back by both the Seraph and the Storm Demon.

     "Let him face the lesson," Misato whispered to her, "If our Master wanted him dead, he'd already be dead."

     "You're insane, I refuse," Askelon shouted as he backed away.

     "Then I'll make a quick thrust," Jeff told him, "Don't move, you'll only die harder."

     Honey's heart went out to her owner, who tried to fit the pieces of his universe back together, and found they would no longer fit.

     "His money, his influence and Pokègirls are supposed to insulate him from this," Mara commented, "Yet he is backpedaling away from a man with a sword and an intent." Mara seemed to find the entire scene amusing.

     It made Honey sick to her stomach. I know what Askelon intended I do here, she thought, That doesn't mean I want him killed, or even humiliated. His Pokègirl beaten, his friends deserted him, his rivals stand by and gleefully watch whatever will happen to him.

     "I can offer you money."

     "Ransom isn't necessarily money, and definitely isn't in this case, but I will give you the terms."

     Askelon nodded in terror, mesmerized by the blade as it caught and lost the morning light.

     "You will apologize for your words of last night, and will refrain from their use to anyone in public again. And I shall know, and I even may return. Second, you will take 100 strokes."

     "You'll kill me?"

     "With the flat, perhaps you aren't a coward, merely unskilled. Any man's skill can take 100 strokes without crying out, without screaming too much, if his courage is sufficient."

     "You're going to spank me in public?" Askelon asked incredulously.

     "A flogging. Very old, very traditional, a good chance to prove what kind of man you are."

     Askelon was correctly imitating a beached fish.

     "Master," Mara said as she returned to his side with Misato.

     "Oh, fancy her do you? Your champion is also forfeit."

     "Done, trash - " Askelon fell silent as Jeff took a step forward. "Take Smithers as well, he seems to enjoy the adventuring life." Askelon scrambled back from Jeff's expression.

     Jeff merely nodded.

     Askelon acts as if this is happening in a vacuum, Honey thought disgustedly, There are over a hundred witnesses, and all the voices carry.

     "But I will not be struck, that is not - "

     Jeff raced forwards, the sound of steel hitting flesh.

     "OW! I protes - OW! Judge! OW!" Within 10 strokes, Jeff had Askelon howling, in another 10, blubbering.

     The sight of a grown man being switched with the flat of a sword sickened many of the onlookers.

     They came here to see Pokègirl blood, not one of their own elite humbled and humiliated, Honey considered as Jeff's arm continued through the motions.

     "Halt!" the judge entered the ring as Jeff was preparing the 76th stroke.

     "Sir." Jeff nodded to the extremely nervous man.

     "The duel is ended. You are the victor, let the surgeon see to him," the man intoned.

     You save him from the `full` punishment, yet you've let him suffer the defeat, Honey thought, Subtly played.

     Jeff made a show of looking at MacReynolds and Taylor, before playing along. "I thank you," he told the judge, then to Askelon, "Run to mommy." The snicker rippling through the crowd more than made up for the missing strokes. He turned to Misato and accepted the pouch, which he handed to the judge. "I apologize for summoning you out so early," he said.

     Also ritual, as well as the victim and the vanquished paying the judge, she thought as Smithers turned over his once-master's portion. The judge withdrew. There was a smattering of polite applause. Mostly there was whispering among the various coteries, all speculating on Askelon's response, Jeff's origin, etc.

     "You'll pay for this!" Askelon said, tears streaming down his face, wincing at every move.

     "No I shan't," Jeff replied as he returned Misato's sword, and took the other items the two had brought: his staff and the jet black wizard's robe. Somehow the fabric caught and billowed at the slightest breeze. What glared down at Askelon wasn't human, but a wizard of ancient days. "You have a mark upon you. All manner of things you scheme, I will thwart, however - come after me, and even your dreams and the next world will not shield you from my wrath. Depend on it." He swept away majestically, the crowd parted like the Red Sea to allow him and his two grim-faced Pokègirls out. Honey followed, feeling frightened. She glanced back at the shocked Askelon before she followed. Hiram and Smithers followed at a discreet distance.

     "Surprisingly well played," Hiram told the lad as he caught up. He watched Honey's relaxation as her new Master and two girls dissolved in smiles, their grim facades vanished.

     "Sorry, someone like that, you stomp on them, and they still get up and claim you didn't really beat them. I think I made it clear I not only beat him, but I wasn't using more than a fraction of what I could do. I just hope what I did had some permanent effect. I understand he isn't really bad, just a spoiled brat."

     "You took away his biggest stick, and his favorite fancy bauble," Hiram said, nodding to Honey who was still the white-clad blonde, "And you humiliated him in front of witnesses. There are people who will kick themselves for a week that they didn't bother to come see. You let him destroy himself. He'll finish the job."

     "Good to know," Jeff said.

     "I also decided to take your offer. If you can be at my offices at noon, we'll sign the papers over lunch. You and your Harem. I think some of my girls and my wives would like to meet you and your girls." And my sons need to meet someone like you. See that the old man isn't just blowing smoke, Hiram thought, Culture, book learning and combat skill in one package.

     "Girls?" Jeff asked with well-feigned innocence.

     "Offspring, I know how you get about treating Pokègirls exclusively as property. I can deal with - eccentricities - especially those I approve of and share. I've found myself acting like Askelon occasionally, bad habits rubbing off on me, but I've never fallen to the New Vegas levels."

     "Sir?" Smithers asked tentatively, "If you have a spot . . . I seem to be between jobs."

     "I think I have a place. Get what you need and meet us at Mr. MacReynolds' office. I hope you are open to a sea voyage. I'm planning to head to the Orange Islands in a few weeks."

     "Make a huge splash, then head out?" Smithers asked as he smiled.

     "Something like that. I suggest you get home before your once-master does."

     "I . . . want to thank you for . . . rescuing me," Honey said.

     "You have many advocates. I could hardly do in such a hero," Jeff replied.

     "I haven't been much of a hero lately," she admitted.

     "Well, Sadie Poken's Day is coming up, you can chart your own course, with or without anyone's input," Jeff said.

     And for the first time his two girls look nervous, Hiram thought, Even if they're just there for the eating and the contests, Sadie Poken's isn't a time for Pokègirls to frown like that.

     "So we've got a few hours," Mara said, brushing her hip against her Master's, covering her disquiet, "We were all very good Pokègirls. Maybe you should show us how much you appreciate that."

     "I suppose a day off with full pay isn't going to cut it?" Jeff asked, when Mara shook her head, Jeff frowned, "Why do I have the idea this all revolves around sex?"

     "Revolving is good, but very athletic," Mara said absently, "And you're probably tired. It is the most effective way to show your Pokègirls, both that they are of value and they are loyal." Mara turned to Misato. "Right Hot Pants?"

     The Seraph blushed and muttered something under her breath, glaring at the Storm Demon the entire time.

     "Are you certain she's a Storm Demon?" Honey asked, "She seems so . . . lucid."

     "I can guarantee she's always lucid about getting more Taming, for herself or others," Jeff commented, "Ritsuko may be the CEO, but Mara is the social secretary."

     "I do enjoy how you feel getting Tamed," Mara countered smoothly.

     Honey just looked from one to the others.

     "Aren't you going to offer her the same thing you offered the rest of us?" Mara asked, ignoring Misato's warning head shaking.

     All right, the Infernal got the Seraph to submit to her authority, Hiram considered, keeping his thoughts hidden behind his outward smile, I'd like to know how that happened. I can't see the boy allowing a battle within his own Harem . . . so it had to be some other means. That a Storm Demon could even think of another solution, other than pounding a target into submission is equally amazing.

     "That's right, I still haven't given Misato her wish," Jeff said brightly.

     Misato hung her head, dismayed he hadn't forgotten.

     "What's that?" Honey asked, finally showing some sense of coming alive.

     "Anything you want. Within limits of what a Tamer could do," Mara explained.

     "Oh . . . anything?" Honey asked, intrigued.

     "Well, within limits," Jeff countered.

     "Those limits are pretty broad. I asked to be tortured, I wanted something rough," Mara said.

     Perhaps I was wrong about him, Hiram thought, That he'd countenance such a thing.

     "He had the Megami really give me a going over. She really made it all seem so real, scary."

     "'Seem'?" Hiram asked, "You weren't injured?"

     "Aside from screaming myself hoarse in terror?" Mara asked, smiled and shook her head, "No sir, not a scratch. Not that I wasn't expecting to be killed every second of the treatment." She glared at her Master, but there was little force in it. "I decided I didn't want to go through that again, ever. I'll take nice and gentle, if I want rough I'll fence with the holy - "

     "Mara," Jeff said sharply, "Not in public."

     "But you don't know what I was going to say," the Storm Demon said so innocently, she almost convinced Hiram of her modesty.

     Almost, Hiram thought, I might have been born yesterday, but not yesterday night.

     "You were tortured . . . by a Megami?!" Honey asked incredulously.

     "What she is leaving out," Misato explained, her wings flexing in impatience and distress, "Is it was all based on suppositions and assumptions. If Mara could do evil, so could anyone else. That didn't prevent her from screaming . . . and pleading for mercy."

     "Ha! Ha! Ha!" Mara said.

     "So . . . anything?" Honey asked, warming to the subject and her new Master.

     "Within the limits of what can be done," Jeff countered.

     "I think this should fit into the category," Honey said with a brilliant smile.

     "Such talk is for the young and free. Us old-timers have a day's work to do. Good day to you all."

     Gem shrieked again, in a mix of joy and a bit of frustration. Against most targets she had a two-to-one superiority in limbs. So she could fend off a tickling attack with a good deal of success.

     This time, her arms were caught for a moment and then she'd be defenseless against the attack from that site. Her wrists were thin enough her Master could catch two at once, although she was strong enough she could rapidly break lose, it gave him a momentary advantage in which he always struck with relentless precision.

     She shrieked and squirmed, she'd learned long ago not to use her feet. Her soles and toes were too ticklish to provide anything except a target.

     "GEM! GEM!" she shouted.

     "Say 'Uncle'," came the reply.

     "Say uncle." It was echoed by her Master.

     She couldn't say it, she could barely say her name through the laughter.

     Jeff debated putting the exhausted Titto in the ball, or pulling a blanket over her. Damn desensitization, he thought as he used the Pokèball, It's a brainwashing technique, no matter how the girls tell me they enjoy it and it's not a problem. It is not just a means of rest and healing. Some don't mind it, some prefer it. He stared at the depression in the bed where her body had been lying, where she'd been until he'd converted her to red light. I'll never get used to that . . . I sincerely hope. He saw Ritsuko staring at his bizarre expression.

     "You always look wretched when you use those, why?" she asked.

     "Are Mara, Misato and Gem in their balls?" he asked, trying to deflect the question.

     "Yes, and you have enough time for a shower and change before you go to Hiram's place," she said, "The street is already buzzing with your exploits. You'll probably have to take the exam to become a Harem Master, if you show your face on Sadie Poken's."

     He could feel his insides curdling at the possibility of that. I don't want more lives to take care of, he thought, I don't want the Pokègirls thinking I'm the second-coming of Ranma Saotome. He and I are completely different people.

     "How many times am I going to have to tell you, being in a Pokèball isn't torture? A girl just has the same sensations of pleasure she went in with. After a Taming it's like the afterglow never ends."

     "As long as she's favorably disposed to her Tamer, if she isn't, then the 'wrongness' of those thoughts is reinforced. That's the very essence of brainwashing."

     "You question everything," Ritsuko joked.

     "Isn't everything for questioning?" he replied, as Ritsuko helped him off with his clothes, he realized he was automatically helping her off with hers. "Good grief, you've got me programmed too."

     Ritsuko laughed aloud and hugged him tightly. "You aren't doing anything to us that we don't want to be done," she told him, rubbed against him, "I just want to polish those hard to reach areas. Maybe a little in and out against the shower wall."

     "You're incorrigible," he accused.

     "No," she corrected firmly, "I'm insatiable. I never get tired of sex . . . with you. I'm also very proud of my Master, who didn't immediately flip out at Honey's request. Although the two of you tickling Gem wasn't quite the start she wanted."

     "Honey is new . . . I'll need a little time to get used to her, let alone her request. I did promise, but it's not what I'm quite ready for."

     "The girls would all love it!" Ritsuko assured him.

     "You've made the assumption that would make me more favorably inclined towards this." They entered the shower together.

     Arriving at Hiram MacReynolds' office a bit early, Jeff, Ritsuko and Liv stepped out of the arriving carriage with the Admiral, who was there to oversee the deal for the Sunshine League's government. Ritsuko smirked at him as Jeff got out first and held the door for the other three, and offered his hand to the two girls.

     "Why thank you, sir," she told him, then whispered when she was close, "There are a dozen pureline girls on this street who'd kill for a swain or husband so attentive." She smiled at his blush. Before he could respond, she pointed at Smithers who was waiting with a surprisingly small amount of baggage.

     "Good day to you, sir," Jeff said, tipped his hat. He released Kiyone from her Pokèball.

     It doesn't hurt us, she wanted to shout at his momentary sour expression.

     "I'll never get used to that," Jeff said, "Or that you could transport her across the continent that way. It could be one of the reasons Sukebe had such a tactical advantage, light-speed transport."

     "Kiyone," Jeff said as he handed her her Pokèball, "Please escort Mr. Smithers to our quarters and introduce him to the others. Mr. Smithers, Ritsuko, my Alpha, Liv, my student, Kiyone, a member of our group."

     Smithers bowed slightly to each in turn, a slight unease on his face. He covered it with an observation, "I noted they are all collared."

     "Yes, I have a locator as well," Jeff said, "The collars have a system to locate my locator."

     "It lets him preserve the illusion we must look out for him, as much as he looks after us," Ritsuko explained. Good man, you understand. He isn't a `New-Age` Tamer, he's a dozen steps beyond that. He actually thinks that we're same value as pureline girls, Ritsuko caught the man's nod to her.

     "I believe I understand the situation," Smithers said, in a relieved tone, "An . . . old-fashioned man?"

     Ritsuko smiled, nodded. Yes, from the 1930's or 1940's, she thought, With the prejudices of that time beaten out of him.

     "Ah, glad to see you all," Hiram said as he exited the building.

     "In a hurry?" the Admiral asked.

     "Just eager to invite you to lunch. My wife and all my Pokèwives insisted we conclude this business quickly. It isn't often they chase the cook out and prepare a meal themselves, but . . . " he spread his hands in surrender. "A man learns to capitulate at such times."

     "Very wise of you, and kind of them, sir," Jeff replied, "On behalf of Ritsuko and Liv, I accept."

     They headed inside. "If I'm not prying. I noticed that the prices of your ice cream are thrice what they are for similar 'premium' ice creams, yet you have a thriving clientele."

     "Real cows' milk," Hiram said proudly, "We feed them Milktit milk to keep them producing. You must really be from another world, if you haven't heard that."

     "Nobody has figured out how you duplicate his product with cows' milk, and Milktit milk just doesn't produce as good a product," Ritsuko supplied, she watched her Master lean forward to Hiram's ear.

     'It's too sweet and not salty enough,' her Master told the ice cream magnate.

     Hiram stopped so fast the others almost ran into him. The man stared at her Master, his expression a mix of shock and horror.

     Jeff shrugged. "I remember hand churning ice cream with ice and rock salt as the cooling agent."

     Hiram nodded, considered. "You may have a job here, if you want it."

     "I'm afraid my plan is to head to the Orange Islands. People claim I've caused enough havoc around here, so I should `gift` somewhere else."

     The admiral guffawed at that.

     Hiram's office, all the black walnut paneling, heavy mahogany furniture and portraits of his ancestors staring down at him, seemed to change everyone into hardened business men.

     "I have two deals. One is 50 million, that's 25 million per ship, or 10 million per ship and 2/3'd of the eventual selling price to the Navy."

     Ritsuko knew that her Master had gone over the ships carefully. And has already received discreet inquiries by less reputable sellers, for 30 million a piece. It's a good deal Master, and Hiram is known for his fairness, she thought as her Master continued to consider, she read the contract over his shoulder, I grew up on high finance deals like this one. The 10 million is a mix of common stock, cash, and an annuity, which if left intact, would probably add up to 35 million, but that's at the end of 10 years, including the projected returns on the dividends and sale of the stock. He's also got the bounty on the Widows and Spinnenangsts, which dwarfs what's being offered for the ships. So, how does he play this? What is it he wants? The first is an income stream, the other is a lump sum now, and a lump sum later.

     "Would you be open to buying one on plan 'A' and the other on plan B'?" her Master asked.

     Hiram looked at him with a curious expression.

     "I like the idea of cash now, cash later, and an income stream. I also note there is no requirement to liquidate the common stock holdings, I could hold them, if I so chose. Also the League has been up in arms that I might bankrupt the government by demanding payment at once, of all the bounties I collected. They may spend twenty or thirty billion at the stroke of a pen, they never expected to have to pay out that kind of money all at once."

     Hiram chuckled. "I think they were rather hoping that they'd all die out, rather than someone killing them."

     Her Master shrugged. "I wonder whom I could whisper to that an annuity or payments over time, tax free of course, would be an acceptable alternative."

     Hiram and the Admiral nodded.

     That's what he wanted, Ritsuko realized, He took less than the ships were truly worth, and accepted a less than optimum deal to say to these powerful men 'I am reasonable'. It also imposes on them an obligation to help him with a much larger problem. Very clever. You can't quite play with the big boys, but you can show you're almost ready to play, and that you are willing to do things for them that they couldn't accomplish. Did you plan to rescue Honey and deal with Askelon? I know you took out the base on purpose, and recovered the gold, but how deep are your plans? I know some of what you think is really going on, so what else are you doing here?

     "Correct," Hiram said.

     "Good, it seems straightforward." Her Master signed it.

     Ritsuko watched the Admiral and realized another level of the going's on. A Navy lawyer must have gone over it as well, she thought, If he can take a pair of ships, and he's planning to go to the Orange Islands, he might take a few other prizes, and a Navy ship that just happens to be heading that way might get a few more deals. The admiral knows a good privateer when he sees one. Someone utterly ruthless and superbly capable, who is also deeply invested in the Sunshine League, would give Johto and Indigo a few things to think about. Giovanni or SEELE try another move on the Cascades, or the southern islands, and they may wake up dead. And gentle, always smiling, always willing to listen Mr. Hiram MacReynolds, silly old maker of ice cream, uncrowned king of the 'I don't care as long as you're useful' faction of the current Pokègirl rights clashes suddenly has the sharpest sword around at his beck and call. Old Hiram would never actually strike with that sword, but he could, and that sword would strike unerringly and without any chance to deflect it. More going on than just the trading of ships for cash. No wonder Mackie hightailed it out of here. He and Master probably talked this over.

     "Odd, most people would pick one or the other," Hiram said. Ritsuko wasn't certain they were talking ship contracts.

     "If everyone profits, people continue to do business. Predators eventually fall to greater predators, unless they perform some useful function. Dogs and cats were predators who traded a leash for a few guarantees. I think you're going to make good profits from your new line, and I want to cash in on that, having additional cargo capacity to carry your product will help. I want the goose that keeps laying golden eggs."

     Hiram laughed at that.

     Kiyone walked Smithers to the barracks they'd been using. "I never expected that - well I'd read that - just how do I -?"

     "Sorry, ma'am," Smithers told her, "She's very normal, not like a grand goddess or anything."

     "But how do - I mean she's just - I can't -!" Kiyone continued to stammer, "I mean she's so - and really - and I've never - "

     "She's very nice, very . . . human."

     "You don't understand! She and Jeff - they and - and then they - and Honey, Master and me - and then - "

     "Breathe!" Mara commanded, "Or you'll lose your chance before it happens."

     Kiyone eeped and fainted, Smithers barely caught her.

     "I take it she's discovered Miss Honey's . . . predilection?" Smithers asked.

     Mara nodded. "Our Master didn't have a problem with it," Mara paused, then continued, "Any more problems that he had with the whole idea of Taming in the first place. I'm looking forward to it. I bet Misato will too, although getting her to admit it would require actions that would get you arrested for Pokègirl abuse even in SEELE territories. I think she's worried that Honey wants to do that to her."

     "Mister Askelon was . . . not happy about it. He took it rather poorly."

     "Makes sense," Mara said as she slung the Wolf Spider over her shoulder, "I wonder, does she get off being a guy? Or being Master doing his Pokègirls, or what?"

     "You could always ask me," Honey said as she exited the barracks and carefully hugged Smithers. The barely revived Kiyone fainted again.

     "I think you've got a fan," Mara said as she entered the barracks with her load, "So, what's the attraction? Or should we discuss it in detail when the Seraph wakes up?"

     "I am awake," Misato easily lifted Kiyone off Mara's shoulder, "My Master approves, and might even enjoy it."

     "Two Masters running their hands on your taut, shivering flesh?" Mara breathed, vanished into her Pokèball.

     Misato set the ball down. "Master wouldn't approve, but he'll be busy the rest of the day. I too would like to know your motivation."

     "Is that why you're shivering?" Honey asked, "Are you nervous I'll do it without your permission?"

     "Our Master is extremely open-minded about some things, the girls forming their own pairings and attachments for one. He strongly disapproves of other things. Being called 'Master' high on the list, non-consensual - activity is another. His dislike of Pokèballs is in that category. I've never met anyone who takes the rights of Pokègirls to the extreme he does. He'd never win an argument with one of his Harem by using her Pokèball. The other edge of that sword is he expects you to act like a Pureline girl. If you don't speak up or assert yourself at appropriate times and in appropriate ways, you will be punished. Kiyone took her concerns about Gem to us, not to our Master. Ritsuko . . . disciplined her, and Kiyone did not enjoy it."

     "Thank you," Honey said, "So I'm expected to act like a pureline girl as much as I can. There are worse fates, I can assure you."

     "She would simply demand you be a chair, or a backpack," Oyuki teased as she entered, "You must forgive our Seraph and Storm Demon. So passionate in battle . . . you may surmise the rest yourself. We have wondered if their rivalry and constant sniping is a cover for another, equally intimate and passionate relationship." Oyuki held up her own Pokèball, smiling at Misato. "Preparation, one may ensure success in battle with adequate preparation. They actually do care about each other, although their love for our Master seems to be the element preventing the verbal sparring and occasional fencing matches from breaking out in to mayhem."

     "That and the fact that he would be the one who'd step in and break up the fight," Kiyone said as she roused herself, took one look at Honey and fainted again.

     "Do you know how irritating that is?" Oyuki asked the overwrought Wolf Spider, "In a similar vein, we strongly suspect our last serious complaints about his behavior is the reason he arrived here at this time and struck the base. He intends to insure that we may follow our own path. That is, he will vanish on Sadie Poken's day. Whether he returns . . . that is not something I can discern."

     "He'd . . . abandon us?" Honey asked in alarm.

     "Free us," Smithers felt comfortable joining the conversation, "If he truly believes you are free-willed individuals traveling with him of your own accord, he would most assuredly not see it as abandonment. You have a need for Taming, this time and place would be the ideal place and time to locate a Tamer more to your liking."

     Oyuki took Mara's Pokèball and released the Storm Demon.

     "Like you screaming during your Taming, then whimpering until they put you in your . . . Pokèball," Mara ground to a halt and looked around, she swallowed when she looked at the smiling Megami.

     "On the subject of screaming - " Oyuki offered, then turned to Smithers, "I am glad you escaped. Honey needs an old friend, until she grows used to her new friends."

     "So they fight like this all the time?" Smithers asked as Oyuki knelt next to Kiyone, emitting a cooling mist from her hand.

     "Yes, the combat rarely comes to blows, alliances shift and change. Even Ritsuko's word is not law during a debate," then her voice grew hard, "Or they will be punished."

     Both Mara and Misato drew back from Oyuki and each other.

     "I would like to know the motivation as well," Oyuki said in a slightly more friendly manner, staring straight at Honey.

     "I . . . I always wanted my Harem sisters and my Master to be happy. Well, no good Master can do all they want, at the same time . . . so I . . . kind of intensified the experience. Plus, Tamers really get off watching their Pokègirls get off," she said shyly, "I also like watching my Master giving his girls a good going - a good Taming."

     "A number of men would be disturbed by watching someone else doing what they do to their Pokègirls. Especially looking like them when it occurred. What for many is the entire lynchpin of their identity," Smithers said, "Some men might react with violence or even paranoia." That was all he would say about Honey and Askelon's falling out.

     "He obtained a Succubus that . . . injured him," Honey admitted, "I thought I'd teach her a lesson. I guessed wrong."

     "Our Master is very nervous about the entire Taming process."

     "He's like Heaven hips over there in that regard," Mara said of Misato, who frowned back.

     Misato put her hands on her hips. "Just because I'm not - "

     "What you used to be, I swear, all day all night. I thought Malakim were nervous about Taming," Mara interrupted, causing Misato to blush furiously.

     "Actually, a little discretion is a good thing," Oyuki said calmly, "A little effort to fan an ember of feminine ardor is welcome. A Harem like all of you raging forest fires, and all he'd know is beating off all his Pokègirls with a stick." Now it was Mara's turn to blush as everyone laughed at her.

     "That was always missing, laughter and the simple joy of being alive," Smithers said, "Mr. Davis is quite lucky."

     All of the girls blushed and looked at each other nervously.

     Hiram was pleased the way the lunch was going. Davis's courtly manner had charmed his wife and his two Pokèwives immediately. His daughters, both Pureline and Pokègirl had likewise been very favorably impressed. I think he'd better stay to the shadows tomorrow, Hiram thought, Or think about becoming a Harem Master. It was the effect on his sons that most pleased him. Polar opposites, a bookworm and a jock who disdained 'book learning'. Both were superb at what they did. As sons of mine should be, he thought, But too narrow in focus, and just old enough that anybody except their old man is a source of inspiration.

     "So the Bayer Process allowed the Germans to continue producing propellants even after they were cut off from the Chilean deposits." Franklin stared open-mouthed, astounded at having someone link world events to his precious sciences, someone who was also a Tamer and a soldier.

     'Fred'-rich, who kept glancing at the 'nerd' who had entranced his nerd brother, and the two Pokègirls, and at the sidearm he held in his hands, empty and locked open.

     Yes boy, he's fought up close and personal with that, and still a 'nerd', Hiram thought.

     "So the metal in this is special?" Fred asked in a distracted tone.

     "Yes. It's stronger than most gun metal, to keep the weapon accurate," Jeff said, "Tap the slide with your spoon."

     Fred did, and his eyes widened, "It rings, like glass!"

     "Yes, steel that hard wears down the tools, but even with all the rounds I put through it, it will be a good gun for my grandchildren."

     "Aren't Widows extremely dangerous?" Hiram's Amachoke Pokèwife asked.

     "They are, and if I'd known what I was doing the first time, I might have run away."

     Polite laughter greeted his statement.

     "But when one steps into your path and gets ready to shoot you, you have little choice," Jeff concluded, "I did use a much heavier weapon on them."

     "You might want to show these to Miss Taylor, they aren't technically sealed Tech, so they should be available to others, especially the military," Hiram suggested.

     The admiral nodded, checking his uniform for spilled ice cream again.

     Not that anyone would risk spilling a drop, Hiram thought.

     "So how do you keep him in check?" Hiram's wife Eleanor asked, "It takes all three of us to deal with Hiram, and he's not as young as he once was."

     Now it was Hiram's turn to blush. His daughters looked appropriately scandalized that their parents would discuss such a thing.

     "Well, there are more of us, all combat veterans. Usually he's reasonable," Ritsuko explained politely, "Except when it comes to sending Pokègirls into a fight. 'A Gentleman fights his own battles.' I was hoping we'd actually meet a Neo-Iczel, can you imagine how that type would react to being defeated by a Tamer all by himself?"

     There was more polite tittering from the girls. Both Fred and Franklin were trying to calculate the possibility, each in their own way. Neither was happy when they realized it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Because he possesses characteristics they disdain, Hiram thought with a hidden smile.

     "We all heard how you beat Honey, then Askelon," Franklin said, "How did you manage that?"

     "The most effect surprise is the unexpected," Jeff explained, "She was the only person on the field who realized how much trouble she was in. My style is unlike that used by any fighting type, in fact, historically it was a reaction to the stylized combat schools. Like Bruce Lee's Jun Keet Doo, it was supposed to come out of left field, not a dance where you have to know the steps in order, but a combat art. It also helped that her Master simply refused to let her battle, he kept calling out maneuvers. Those were the two terrible disadvantages she was in."

     "Don't forget that she was also fighting a human," Liv pointed out sharply, then to the entire table, "Our Master still hasn't got it through his head that Pokègirls don't like to kill and slaughter humans."

     "Tone," Davis said quietly, sending a shudder through the witch, "I am and was aware, and was counting on that as well. However, I was under no illusions that Mr. Askelon would spare me, no matter what Honey's feelings were."

     "Sorry," Liv said quickly, concentrated on her ice cream.

     "Honey's - Master - didn't take seriously what he couldn't understand. Always respect what you cannot understand. The poor aborigine who describes the upside-down bird with the great fat belly that gives birth to many red and white man-things, is trying to explain that Team Rocket has landed a heavy weapon's platoon behind you by blimp."

     The other two young men nodded. Hiram hid his smile, although his wife and Pokèwives caught it and subtly returned it. The witch is his student, Hiram thought, It seems to be an efficient level of control.

     "There are lessons in any subject. Niels Bohr, the famed physicist, was an Olympic athlete as well."

     "So how frelk is Honey?"

     "Franklin," Eleanor warned.

     "Mom!" the boys replied in unison.

     "She is correct," Jeff said, "It is not proper dinner table conversation." He leaned over to Liv and stage whispered, "You can avoid your punishment by telling me what 'frelk' means."

     "Mara is one popsicle frelk," Liv explained, enjoying the stunned looks from those around the table.

     "That edifies me not one whit," Jeff said sourly, "I suggest you tell me in private."

     "That's the best way," Janice, Hiram's eldest daughter and the one most interested in the boy, suggested. Setting off laughter in the others.

     "So what do you intend to do tomorrow?" Amanda, his Amachoke Pokèwife asked.

     "Let them all loose and let them plot their own courses," Jeff said.

     And why are they so worried about that? It's what most Pokègirls would dream of, Hiram considered Ritsuko and Liv's desperate expressions, Or are they afraid he'll be swamped? Or he'll leave them behind? It doesn't make sense. Ah, he's only allowed eight. If he gets several more powerful girls, they might be replaced. I think he could get three right from this table. You know it don't you Ritsuko? So does Liv.

     "That isn't what I asked," Amanda chided, "I asked what you were going to do."

     "Ah, my apologies, I misunderstood. It's a bit of a secret, but basically, going to and fro on the earth, and walking up and down on it, considering various people."

     Amanda blanched at the reference from Job. Hiram thought it in mild bad taste, Unless it is true. So you'll be up to no good tomorrow, and you don't want your girls mixed up in it. I think you know more about the local troubles than you've let on. Ritsuko was a local girl, and there was the same old chatter at the party. Old news to us, not to a new force seeking to make a name for himself. That's why you aren't leaving for the Orange Islands day after tomorrow. It will be an interesting day tomorrow.

     "So what do you and Ritsuko have in mind tomorrow?" Eleanor asked Liv.

     "I hadn't really thought about it," Liv said, throwing worried glances at Jeff, who seemed either immune or indifferent.

     "Maybe you should stay inside, after all, you already have a new Pokègirl. You might even get an exact definition of 'frelk'," Fred suggested, ignored the angry glance from Janice.

     While Davis's girls looked eager, Davis himself shook his head. "No, I want to go out, and know that the girls can do as they wish without any pressure from me," he said.

     "Or your assistance." I think that's a mistake lad, Hiram thought, shutting out his sons' and daughters' suggestions of what a human or a Pokègirl could do at the grand festival. He'd seen it all before, and he enjoyed simply watching the young ones run around free. You don't look like an old man, Hiram thought, then stared at Davis's eyes, searching. Davis seemed to sense it, and returned the stare, for an instant Hiram saw something other than the charming, slightly nervous 16-year-old. On the other hand . . .

     The others had quietly grouped together, plotting and planning for the next day. Jeff left them alone, They included both Gem and Honey in their planning, that's all I would require. I already have a simple and unexpected counter to whatever they come up with, and a back up, although I'm loathe to use the Pokèballs for any reason, I have them.

     Gem suddenly got up and charged off to the television in the next room, with Honey right behind. Okay, that's what I want to find out, he thought as he followed, quietly closing the door behind him. On TV was a `declassified` news clip taken by a Watcher, of a Widow in action. Gem was mesmerized by the actions of the girl on the screen. Honey looked at Jeff, then returned to watching. Gem miming the moves of the Widow on the screen worried him a bit. She's got to learn who and what she is, he thought.

     "I heard about this," Honey explained, "So did she, and she wanted to see. I didn't think it would hurt anything."

     "You seem to be as fascinated as she," Jeff commented as Honey watched carefully, "Trying to figure out how a Widow does it?"

     "I'm trying to figure out how you did it," Honey said, "There's no way I can see how you did it."

     "First, I attack at a range beyond which the Widows or Spinnenangsts could reply. Unless you're Typhonia, a Hyperbeam only has a range of 200 to 300 yards. 'The Gun' is accurate at ten times that and can pierce a Widow's shell at 500 yards, but only one thickness. It gets in, but can't get back out, no matter how it searches. Second, the weapon I used was specifically designed to kill monsters who'd laugh at an army tank. Third, the combination of weapon, magic, and tactics gives me a massive advantage over those who just use raw firepower and ferocity. Fourth, I also have a lot of experience fighting monsters as ferocious as Widows. So they aren't a monster to scare children, they were just a target to hit."

     Honey nodded, then returned to watch the show and Gem. Jeff had seen the clip. They executed the poor bastard while we were collecting Gem. He did what he had to do, probably saved the League. I certainly couldn't think of a better way to wipe out an entire army, even with Gem and the others. Unfortunately, I guess they had to set a precedent, but I would have found another, a better way. Go with God Simon Carver. He watched Gem's and especially Honey's reactions. That's one mystery I intend to solve, and do it tonight, he thought. "Honey, I do need to talk to you about something."

     "Sure, of course, let's go over there. You are my Master after all."

     "No, no I'm not. I may be your Tamer, but I am not your Master," Jeff said sternly.

     Honey glanced over to Gem, who was nodding. The little Pokègirl shut off the TV with the ending of the clip, and walked over the stand beside Honey. "So you believe in Parity?" she asked.

     "I believe in people finding their own destiny. There are plenty of people who are bigger sheep than any Lamb Chop, and there are Pokègirls more free thinking and inventive than most humans. Looking at color or species as a discriminating factor is ludicrous." He glanced towards the hall and noticed the discussion had dropped. He gestured and the door locked. "I want this conversation private. The others know it's a pet peeve of mine. When you have a 'Master', you don't have to think. If that's what you want, you might want to avail yourself of the many Tamers out and about tomorrow. I could arrange a sale with a selected person and split the proceeds with you, or you could find a Tamer yourself."

     She'd been growing more concerned as she spoke, finally she exploded, "NO! That's not what I want!" She ran the short distance and threw her arms around him. "That's not what I want!" she repeated in case he didn't get it.

     "Okay," Jeff said, trying to placate the extremely frightened Pokègirl, and trying to get loose. "As I said, I want you to think and speak for yourself, you seem well able to do that."

     "Sorry," she said as she relaxed her grip, but laid her head on his shoulder, "It's that . . . "

     "If you're not comfortable telling me, that's fine, you can tell me later. I can guess part of it: falling back into Askelon's clutches. That would frighten me too."

     "Yes, that's part of it," Honey admitted. She glanced down as Gem hugged her leg, nuzzling it as she stood there. "But an . . . the other part is . . . I love these people. I love this town and this League, but when people see me, they see an object, a possession for Askelon, some kind of plaster saint for the rest. I'm tired of being an object. Being a Pokègirl, a thing that walks and talks isn't as bad as being something I never was, and now have to live up to," she sighed.

     Jeff put his arms around her and felt her snuggle against him. I never will understand why showing a Pokègirl a little respect and affection, and you get her unlimited loyalty and adoration.

     "I was talking to the others, you haven't the faintest idea who I am, other than Askelon's plaything. So that's all I am to you. I don't have to be a hero, I don't have to be Alpha, I don't have to be the genius who comes up with the last minute brilliant solutions to problems that if any of the bystanders had used their guts and their brains, would have been handled ten minutes before I ever heard of it."

     Jeff heard the growing frustration in the girl's voice as she held him tighter, he stroked her back and kept silent. Let her vent her aggravation and tell me about her inner turmoil, he thought.

     "When did I become the solution to everyone else's problems?" she shouted, her body shook with rage.

     "I think I can guarantee that no one here will expect you to handle everything, although you may have to break up a fist fight or two. Most of the girls are . . . quite opinionated, and far too proud to let anyone else do their thinking for them."

     "What about you?"

     "You may have noticed the collars the girls wear are an unusual size and design, well they have locators in them. You can guess, that isn't just to let me locate them."

     A beeping came from Gem's collar, it got louder as she turned towards Jeff and faded as she turned away. Honey laughed at that and Gem's superior expression, as if saying 'I've got a collar, where's your's?' "I don't believe it," Honey chuckled, "Some Tamer actually did it."

     "After all the complaints that I needed looking after and not the girls, I decided to do something about their anxieties."

     "How very male of you," she said sarcastically, "Nothing's ever wrong with you, it's the women who are too emotional. Or they don't understand."

     Jeff caught the slight brace and readiness. "I'm not going to punish you for speaking your mind in private. However, in public, you might want to moderate your tone and delivery. There are those who would take offense on my behalf, and they are . . . difficult to deal with, so I prefer to avoid them, and that, on your part, requires a little discretion, or acting ability."

     "Gem!" Gem announced, looking absolutely incredulous, her hands on her checks and her eyes bugged out.

     "Had a revelation about your Master's brilliant insights have you?" Jeff asked.

     "Gem," the girl said and shrugged, grinning at Honey who was grinning back.

     "As I said, we all have to play roles to get along. A mask that doesn't change the person inside," he explained.

     "Okay," Honey said, "How do I earn one of those collars."

     "First, you learn to listen, not just to me, but to the others. I may be dead wrong about something, but I want you to understand my reasoning. I'm easy-going, but I do have an ego, pointing out that elephants are gray and not pink is going to get further that simply telling me the plan won't work. The second is that you also have to speak up for yourself. There's very little you can tell me or the others that we haven't encountered before. And I do mean anything. Third, all of us have fetishes, foibles, little weird bits you are going to have to deal with and get used to. And that brings me to why I came here. I don't have a problem with you Taming - "

     "Gem!" the little girl said sternly.

     "Yes, milady," Jeff said and bowed. Gem giggled in response and curtseyed back.

     "My foible. Taming, talking about it, doing it, scare the Hell out of me. Mara keeps saying I must be part Seraph, she's never met a man as nervous about it as I am. The girls are all wonderful, gentle, somewhat demanding and they're inventive so I have to be inventive. A couple of times they've accused me of practicing to enter the Sex Leagues myself. I practically curl up in a ball at the very thought of that. I rejected your idea initially, not because I was rejecting the concept, but I don't know you well enough. In time, perhaps a few days . . . . Another good example is Mara and Misato, they shouldn't get along. However, other than Mara's continual teasing about Taming, while I've never been a conspiracy buff, I get the feeling there's a lot more to their relationship than I can easily ferret out. They're happy, so I'm happy to leave it alone. Gem here - " He glanced over at the girl, who hugged his leg and the Titto's.

     "Blessed Widow," she said, shrugged at Honey's mix of confusion and horror.

     "I doubt she's going to eat any of us soon. Although keep any pet rocks away from her. She will eat them, don't ask why. Widows are supposed to limit themselves to organic material. Coal I could understand, but not granite or concrete."

     "Widow, Widow, Widow," Gem snarled menacingly, taking a threatening pose and waving her four arms and dancing on her four legs.

     "You just look adorable," Jeff told her, critiquing her `work`.

     Gem bared her teeth and snarled, and only managed to look cuter.

     Honey swept her up in her arms, hugging the girl. "She is adorable."

     "Don't let the eternal cuteness fool you, if she was just cute I wouldn't respect her, she's also a lethal combatant. She is everything I've heard a Widow is. All the same. Of all the girls, she's probably the most dangerous."

     "Gem," the girl pouted, then buried her face in Honey's shoulder. "Gem, Gem, Gem," she sobbed.

     "She's also the second best actress," Jeff noted, dispelling Honey's growing scowl. "The real reason I wanted to talk to you was about you."

     "Me?" Honey said worriedly as she set Gem aside.

     "The truth about duplicating my appearance and techniques. I . . . I'm uncomfortable, but no more any other Taming exercises so that isn't it. Only I listened to Askelon brag about you a bit. 'I can have any woman I want.' I looked into it using other sources. Don't ask," he cautioned, "They all reported the same thing. You take on someone else's identity when you are Tamed, or Taming. Why?"

     Honey opened her mouth to say something several times, but didn't make a sound. Gem walked over, patted her leg and smiled at her. Her best 'brightens the whole room' smile.

     Gave her confidence, Jeff thought as Honey composed herself.

     "I was Thresholded early, a black Pokèball, illegal mod chips, the whole nine yards. I was a Marble, at age 11. As you can guess, I was flatter than a board and I heard the joke about statuesque so many times I could about scream. Then when I was 13, I found a Water Stone, stole it, evolved and escaped. Two weeks later I headed the SLIS strike team that took the base and the operation out." She stood and twirled around, took her trademark pose. "Enter the hero Cutey Honey." Then she slumped. "But this isn't how I really look."

     The transformation was rapid, but not instant. She lost the wide flair of her hips, and her shoulders narrowed, her arms lost the toned muscular look and became a normal girl's, her hair changed from the pinkish-coppery color to a dark auburn. The brilliant blue eyes became a dull brown. While most aspects of her became more boyish, her breasts had the opposite transformation.

     They have to be 14 inches in diameter, he thought in amazement, the engineer in him taking over from the man, The attachment points can't be more than 3.5 inches in diameter. How do they stay that shape and why isn't she in pain from that? He stared at her face, and her scowl.

     "Go ahead and say it. A couple of wreckballs glued to a stick."

     "A couple of basketballs on a tall, pretty 16-year-old girl. Believe me, for a 16-year-old girl, the rest of you is quite nice."

     "But not as cute as Honey?" she asked, parodying her typical pose and wink.

     "Not as balanced, but I thought Tittos could take any physical form they wished."

     "Oh- " She became Ritsuko. "- we -" Misato. "- can -" Mara. "- if -" Oyuki. "- can -" Liv. "-concentrate. Gem." Now two Gems stood and stared at each other. Honey acting like a mirror to any move Gem made. Then she was Honey again, red-haired and vivacious, then 'herself.' She just looked tired, she took his hand, placed it on his breast and looked into his eyes.

     They don't feel like the other girls'. More like a clenched muscle.

     "See? They won't make good pillows. They don't make good squeeze toys. Yeah, they're huge," she sighed, then blurted out the rest as one long word, "But I could get the same effect tossing a couple of painted rocks into the room before I entered."

     "The reason I was with Askelon was they didn't bother him. I had a couple of other Tamers, they either couldn't handle the divine Cutey Honey overshadowing them, or they couldn't handle having Honey for all to see, and just me in the bedroom. If a Tamer does a good job Taming me, he gets this - " She gestured at herself. "- as a reward."

     Not a huge incentive to go all out, Jeff thought, If a happy, healthy partner isn't your primary goal. Now, is that what you want, or not?

     Honey continued in the same weary tone, "Askelon was better at hiding it, and maybe he had a big enough ego that he was a business man. I was just hired help. Maybe by some lights it wasn't much, but it was better than I'd had."

     "I think," he said as he scooped her up in his arms, "That you can look forward to better. If you decide to stay with me. If you don't, maybe you'll learn something."

     "Don't take this wrong, but are you a pervert who likes doing it with freaks?" she asked as he sat her on the bed.

     "Or maybe I don't consider you a freak. I'm also rather amazed anyone wants to stay around me," Jeff responded as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the T-shirt underneath it.

     "Maybe you are too young and don't fully understand," she countered.

     "How good are you at hissing?" he asked, before she could answer he lifted his T-shirt.

     Honey hissed and crawled away. She realized what she had done and looked around shamefully. "Sorry, I . . . "

     "As I said, I have a different standard," he explained. I also suspect that when you get over having to be 'useful and sexy' to anyone who approaches, you'll change your appearance to something you're more comfortable with, he thought, After all, your `native` form is as much your decision as any other form, it's just a subconscious decision. Something to start changing your opinion. He began gently stroking her breasts, half speaking the words to the spell.

     "They aren't soft, so they won't make good pillows, and they don't squeeze and twist worth anything. I can be like that if you wish, but I can't hold it during full Taming," Honey repeated herself.

     "I am curious," he said, concentrating on insinuating the spell into her body, "Why Pokègirls like having their breasts twisted, mashed and mauled. Doesn't it hurt?" He noted Gem raising her head, her nostrils flaring. Soon little one, he thought, So you can smell it already, interesting.

     "Not so much as you think and most - uh - what's happening?" Honey stared at his hands and her building nipples.

     "Something that happens naturally, I just sped it up," he explained, smiling and nodding to Gem, who climbed up on the bed.

     "They feel like they're growing." Honey raised her head and stared in fright. "NO! They are growing! I don't want to be any bigger!" Honey pleaded, staring at him, "Please stop! I don't - uh - the pressure."

     He sat beside her. "I thought Pokègirls like it kinda rough."

     "I don't - don't want to - pop!" she gasped, cradling her breasts.

     "You won't," he said, looked at the Pokèkit, "Gem, you're on. She'll help relieve the pressure," he told Honey as he massaged her nipple, a milky white drop formed. He caught it on his finger and held it to Honey's lips, while Gem suckled eagerly. "Just something good to come from them." He let her lick the drop from his finger.

     "Milk?" she asked, sighed as Gem sucked hungrily.

     "Your milk," he told her, "Gem seems to prefer a liquid diet, preferably sucked from some source. I don't think she thinks you're hideous or deformed."

     Honey began moaning as her hands roamed over Gem's hair, while the Blessed Widow changed breasts to enjoy what the Titto offered.

     Jeff slipped his hand between Honey's legs, slowly teasing her labia and clitoris. I also know the other reason Askelon didn't want you out on Sadie Poken's, he thought, And why you're so desperate to change `Masters` now that you're free. Honey moaned and writhed in appreciation, holding Gem to her breast and closing her legs to hold Jeff's hand where it was.

     "Ohh, yes Master, drink from your Pokègirl," Honey panted.

     I'm probably contributing to the delinquency of a minor, Jeff thought as he loosened his belt and pants one handed, dropping them and his underwear to the floor, But Pokègirls are supposed to know about sex from birth. He stepped between her legs, spreading them and touching the head of his cock to her opening. I can remember when I'd be terrified to be caught doing this, he thought, When I even thought about it. Now I'd probably have a cheering section. Voyeurs and cheerleaders. He kept the rhythms off sync, of his hand, `tapping` at her gates, and Gem's suckling.

     "Oh please, fill up your Pokègirl. Pump me full again," she begged.

     Jeff simply rubbed the head against her slit while his fingers rubbed her clitoris and labia.

     "NO!" she moaned, "Don't tease your Pokègirl!"

     Gem had consumed all the milk, so she sat back licking her lips.

     "Please," Honey breathed, "Fill me up again. I'm soo empty."

     Jeff pulled his fingers away and slid into her. He held his fingers where Honey could suckle them, tasting her own essence as he pumped in and out of her.

     "Yes, yes, fill me, fill your Pokègirl." Honey wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him in deeper with each stroke. While she tried to squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples as she moaned. "Yes, Ma - Ma - Ma - yes, yes," she gasped as she stared at him dreamily, "You are Master. I chose you, Master, my Master," she said as she reached out to him.

     Jeff was about to object as Honey tightened around him, clenching in orgasm. He staggered as he felt it, a warm voiced rippling through him. She hadn't spoken, but he'd clearly heard it, so warm and beautiful, words of love, protection and surrender, it hurt worse than any wound he had ever taken.

     He was barely aware of his seed spurting within her. He felt disoriented, alien within his own mind, he fought not to repel this `invader`, to let her inside where he could feel her warm soul. He was so lost to the struggle, he didn't note the small, strong hands that lowered him to lie beside Honey as Honey gathered him in against her. Physically, as she did transcendentally.

     He could feel her heart beating, her hands touching his skin, her thoughts touching his mind, the sheet draping over their bodies as Honey curled herself around him, all she had and was around him, as he drifted away. Might just . . . he thought as he gazed at Honey's placid smile, before he did drift off.

     Gem closed the door behind her quietly. She was glad that her Master's first experience with Honey had been so pleasurable for both of them. She wondered if her Master realized how young the girl was, she smelled young, although her smell had changed suddenly after the Taming, becoming more like her Master's. From their scents, Gem knew the Alpha and the other spider were almost Pokèwomen, many of the others were older. None were as young as Honey.

     Thinking on youth, she was somewhat jealous that she was too young to be Tamed. As much as she loved cuddling with her Master, the occasional tickling sessions with her Master, the Alpha, or both, or the special one with Honey as Master and her real Master, she loved the feeling of her Masters skin against hers, but she knew there was more. Something the others got, but she was denied. "Gem," she said dreamily, enjoying the memories of the touch, of the warm, filled belly. She planned to wake her Master early. She suspected that Cutey Honey would remain in the hotel.

     Gem knew of the maps her Master had drawn, she planned to show them to Honey. Gem had already figured out where their Master would be waiting. It was obvious, at least to her. She knew her Master wouldn't make it too difficult. She smiled as she realized that all the others would assume he would make it complicated, and that was the source of the puzzle.

     Gem shook her head, wondering why the others made everything that was straightforward so complicated.

     Honey was in her 'Cutey Honey' form as she gazed at her Master. He may accept what I really look like, but this form's a lot more fun for snuggling, she thought, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. She felt torpid, like after a heavy meal, and she also felt like crying. She could feel his thoughts. So beautiful, and so lonely, she thought as she tried to hold him more tightly against herself without smothering him. Like one of the volcanoes of the Cascade Islands. I don't want him to think he's an island. He has me now, and Mara. She felt an odd resonance with the Storm Demon and at last understood how he'd mastered such an elemental force of nature. Not by Taming, but by being more alone than she was, Honey thought as she soundlessly thrilled at the feeling of her Master's heartbeat, his breathing on her skin, All her boiling anger at the world was lost amid her new Master's emptiness and cold. "You are not alone," she told him softly, sending the thought along their link.

     She'd heard of Delta Bonds and Recognition. I always thought they were just romantic notions . . . now I know better. Foolish lonely boy. So clever, but you really don't understand, do you? she thought about his plan. "Pokègirls wouldn't want to be free of a Master who would be willing to defend them and would let them be free," she told him, "But you'll have to learn that on your own. You'll have to `comprehend` it to understand it," she told him softly, as she lay there, wishing there was something, anything to heal the gaping hole in his heart. "I could love you ten times as much as I do, and it wouldn't be enough," she lamented, "Because I've felt it too." The terrific pressure to be the hero all the time, she thought, But I could hide, you couldn't. My heroism had little consequence, you had so much to lose, and all you had to gain was the right to fight another war. Now you have our war, when all you wanted was to rest. "Rest with me," she told him, "A few moments' peace, that isn't too much to ask."

     The sun had yet to rise when Gem walked in, fully clothed, carrying a basket of Pokèballs, and several backpacks. How does such a little thing carry such a load? Honey wondered as she raised her head and changed to appearing clothed.

     Smithers knocked on the door frame. "Miss Honey, is everyone decent?"

     "Just a second, Mr. Smithers, can you close the door?" Jeff asked as he sat up.

     "Very good, sir." Smithers closed the door without ever looking inside. "If I may be so bold, Miss Gem already captured all the others. I suspect because you despise to use the Pokèballs so much."

     "Thank you," Jeff told the Pokèkit, who shrugged, "But that's not what I was concerned about."

     "There's one thing Gem knows about, and I don't want to advertise," Jeff said as he tugged at the T-shirt he was still wearing. "Miss Honey saw this, but . . . she said she was a freak, I disagreed, because what would each of you call this?" He pulled the T-shirt over his head, turned around to show his back, which Honey hadn't seen.

     Honey hissed again at the revelation that scars crisscrossed his entire body.

     "Good Lord, sir," Smithers asked in horror, "What happened to you?"

     Jeff let their horror wash over him. 'My gods, what happened to you?' came through both his ears and the link he now shared with Honey. He could tell what she was feeling, and to a limited extent, what she was thinking. The intimacy of it terrified him. There are parts of me I don't want anyone to see, and now I can't hide them from an innocent. He felt unclean that she might see the decisions he'd had to make, and his certain knowledge he'd have to make such decisions again in the future.

     What hasn't happened to me? he silently asked, as Honey reacted as she had before, disbelieving fascination and horror, below that was a nearly overwhelming desire to comfort him for hurts long ago. He turned to let the others see, sensed their horror rise anew.

     " 'Who, what did this?'" he asked, knowing they were asking the same questions in their own heads, especially the long parallel scars that went from his shoulder, across his back, to the opposite hip. "A lot of things. Most of them from a riding accident, the horse stepped off the edge into a ravine and rolled over several times on the way down. If you're wondering how that applies, I couldn't get loose of the saddle, so I was effectively strapped, unmoving, to the horse as it went down. I wound up at the bottom of the ravine with a dying horse lying atop my legs. When the others found me and dug me out from under the corpse, I wasn't expected to live out the day."

     He paused, letting the others gather themselves. He'd told the story enough, that it no longer affected him. He remembered how it affected others. "Instead, I spent the rest of the summer in traction, and the next year and a half learning to walk again," he told them as Honey ran her fingers over the two long scars and Gem had curled up in his lap, holding on with all eight-limbs. Smithers merely stood stock-still, having nothing useful to say, he said nothing. Disturbing, Jeff thought, This fascination Pokègirls get into over a wounded human, it's an odd mix of predator 'can I take it down now that it's weak', and the comforter/defender. In some it translates into 'nobody eats it but me', in other it's this almost-worshipful adoration. Spooky. Weird feeling it from inside her head as well, he thought as he felt a morbid/erotic thrill go through Honey as he reacted to her tracing the scars with her finger tips.

     "Oh, sorry!" She yanked her hand back, amazed as much by his reaction of revulsion to her stroking him, as hers of fascination and excitement.

     "No, I'm sorry. I . . . don't get the interest. Don't understand why."

     "You were hurt," she said. He felt the concern and sympathy, and a bit of anger at whoever did it as she reached out to touch it, then withdrew her hand as she felt him nearly flinch.

     It's not quite as bad as Misato. I think she nearly came running her fingers over the scars, and failing to Heal them, he thought.

     "They don't - hurt - do they?"

     "The scars on the outside, no, but the cracks in my bones tell me what the weather is going to be, by which ones hurt and how bad."

     "With good accuracy?" Smithers asked, just to prove he had been listening.

     "Perfect, here and back home. Part of my point is that I will talk as if I'm 'in on the joke' that my memories are impossible," he explained, "But they are very real."

     Honey snuggled against him, holding him gently. He felt the warmth of her body and emotions. He found himself holding her back, and Gem holding both of them.

     "We shouldn't leave Smithers out of this," Honey suggested, as she carefully pulled his shirt back down.

     Gem took the hint. "GEM!" There was a moment of terror on his face as she launched herself at the man like a missile. She hugged him with all the intensity she usually showed.

     "Thank you, young miss," Smithers managed, staring at the little girl hanging on to him, "I begin to understand better why her less affectionate namesakes are so ferocious. They seem to lack reticence and are extremely quick of mind and body."

     Jeff noted Honey was still draped over him like a cape. "If the Dryder retains those characteristics, it will be an extremely interesting evolution." He picked up a bit of mirth from Honey, then realized why, She appears to wear enough to be decent, but she knows she's really naked. The clothing is her skin, she knows and she knows that I know. Thinking it earned him a kiss and a nuzzle. He also caught Smithers' swiftly hidden look of approval.

     "Today is Sadie Poken's Day in the League, although things really don't get started until 0600 hours, so I have a couple of hours. My plan is fairly simple. I intend to drop all the girls separately about the city. They'll have maps of all the Pokècenters and the police stations, interestingly, the largest and best-known Pokècenter is not the first on the list, the one across from the Sirella Hotel and the main police station is. Can you guess why?"

     "GEM! GEM! GEM!" The Blessed Widow held up all four of her hands, waving frantically for attention.

     "Yes?" Jeff asked and waited for the answer, Gem frowned at him.

     "The Sirella Hotel is the fanciest in Redwood that caters to Tamers. The larger suites have complete physical and environmental restraints in them," Smithers said, faced Gem, "Perhaps not the answer you had in mind, but an important set of clues to one brought up in this town, like Miss Ritsuko." Then he glanced around nervously. "Mr. Askelon . . . made use of the facilities."

     "He had me and 35 others, and he was 'using the facilities'?" Honey said with a hurt tone and a pout, then they became real, "Or do you mean . . . ."

     "I think I'm beginning to wish I'd used the edge, instead of the flat," Jeff commented, uncomfortable with the deep sense of betrayal that was coming from outside himself.

     "That would have been a poor decision on your part, sir," Smithers said, "I assure you, the wounds you inflicted will more than repay all the evils Mr. Askelon managed to inflict in his life. The hidden laughter of his supposed friends will sting far worse and far deeper than any thrust from a material blade."

     Jeff nodded. "Very well. I am going to install Honey in the suite of rooms I've secured for after Sadie Poken's day, since she doesn't want to go out. The coach and movers will arrive in an hour. Mr. Smithers, I'll be providing you with 150,000 SLC, where you go and what you do is entirely up to you. The others will be given 20,000 creds in cash and a bank card that gives them access to an additional 280,000 credits, their packs, the map, their collar and their Pokèball. The collars' locators have been temporarily disabled, until sundown tonight. They'll be on their own. My locator will remain deactivated until noon tomorrow. They'll be free to go and do whatever they want. They can either figure things out, hide in one of the other Pokècenters, or relax at the festival and attend the banquet."

     "Gem!" Gem said in frustration.

     "They will get the chance to choose, that is why I came here," Jeff said firmly, "The reason for the method is that true freedom also includes not knowing what is going to happen tomorrow. Anxiety and uncertainty are part of being a free creature. They will have that in abundance. And as you proved, Gem, all their planning and plotting last night was for naught. Whatever they had prepared themselves for, they were not prepared for you little one."

     Gem stuck her tongue out at him.

     "They'll come back, they'll all come back," Honey assured him, "And Gem is right."

     "Gem!?" Gem asked in amazement, staring at Honey.

     "You're making the assumptions that they want to take control of their lives. Most people simply want to do their jobs and enjoy the rewards of their exertions. The kind of strategic, nonlinear thought you specialize in, doesn't come easily to most people. If they can do it at all. The idea of being completely in charge of their own lives, it's a wonderful opportunity and a very generous offer, that doesn't stop it from being a terrible idea."

     "Gem." The girl nodded, pointing to Honey.

     "The point of the holiday is to give Pokègirls a chance to run free and be in charge," Jeff replied.

     "Under controlled conditions," Honey replied, "One day under a structured setting, not for an entire lifetime. And you're going to - " Honey fell silent. "There's more to it. I can only get glimpses."

     "Better you don't know," Jeff said quietly.

     "You . . . no, I understand. I won't say. I don't really need to understand all of it, do I?" Honey asked.

     "No," Jeff replied.

     "Well, I would like it spelled out, as clearly you can," Smithers said.

     "Very well," Jeff shrugged, "Sukebe was said to be a master of technology and magic, so in 1988 he created Pokègirls as his slaves. He was discovered to be doing these genetic experiments by Linda McKenzie in 1990. His first lab was destroyed, and became the cursed Jusenkyo Spell Dump. In 1991, Sukebe came back and unleashed Pokègirls on the world. The problem is, Sukebe didn't develop Pokègirl technology, he was a physicist. Take it from someone who knows a good deal about physics and genetic engineering, physicists don't make good bio-engineers, there's no overlap in schooling. My genetics expertise comes from magic, not science. On the scientific/technical end, I'm a Chemical Engineer, that doesn't make me a chemist and an engineer, anymore than an Electrical Engineer can duplicate a Mechanical Engineer's experience and expertise. What that means is, he either stole it, or somebody gave him the Pokègirl technology and all that went with it. Possibly even the prototypes he was caught with. Somebody who either couldn't understand the societal implications, or somebody who wanted the social chaos that would occur. That year he was gone, was he building up the infrastructure to build up his army, or did he run back to his patron and get tea, sympathy, and an army?"

     "What kind of idiot would give that kind of technology to someone in the mental state he had to be in?" Honey asked.

     "It would be worse than passing out Black Master balls in a Junior High," Smithers said, "Emotions running high and judgement impaired." Gem nodded.

     "Allow me to ask a few more questions before I present my hypothesis." Jeff said, then continued when they nodded, "Sukebe began his war in earnest in 1992, on the US/Canadian border and in Northern Africa. North Africa was effectively cleared of all human habitation, that will be important later. Then in 1993, the 'Bloody Flu' appeared, which by 1995 was discovered to cause extreme difficulty in becoming pregnant in the women who survived. The women passed this infertility on to their own daughters. Of course, in 1997 Pokègirls, who were immune to the disease, were discovered to be interfertile with humans. Wonderful coincidence isn't it? So from 1990 to 1992, Sukebe created Typhonia, generated an extremely specific plague and thousands, at least, of warrior Pokègirls, drilling them into an army that swept all before it. The last person to do something on that scale started his work with 'Let there be light', and even he rested on the seventh day."

     Even Gem chuckled at that.

     "That begs the question of who and why," Smithers reminded him, "The way you're talking, it would require them to have had all of this on hand. As if someone was waiting for a useful idiot."

     "Or be able to generate it very quickly," Honey added, "I assume you're also saying it was beyond the capability of any of the Nation-states of the time. What about the companies?"

     "Any company that started working on such a thing would have been obliterated by the intelligence agencies of the time. The nations may have wanted the other nations destroyed or humbled, but only a few wanted genocide on that scale. All of them who did, wouldn't have wanted humans crossbreeding with Pokègirls. Now Jusenkyo was Sukebe's first lab, and Jusenkyo is in P.R. Chinese territory. The ChiComs were never the most advanced bioresearchers, yet they developed the 'Monster Flu', based on the Bloody Flu, in just five years? Unleash it in 2000, welcome to a new millennia, go directly to the twelfth century, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Did the Chinese have help, somebody captured at Sukebe's Jusenkyo lab perhaps? Somebody especially contrite and helpful, and knowledgeable? In 2002, Sukebe's final lair is located and reduced to a smoldering crater. Congratulations. Now the Monster Flu has not proven a particularly effective anti-Pokègirl weapon, but it completely saturated the biosphere of the surface world, and as an added kicker, it just happens to mutate into the Red Plague, a disease with a 92% fatality rate, which in 2004 suddenly appears almost everywhere simultaneously. Like someone threw a switch?"

     "Okay," Honey said as she shivered, "You convinced me, something was out to get us."

     "It could all be a coincidence, sure, but that's stretching my sense of disbelief a bit far. Far easier to assume it was directed action by some enemy. An enemy who loves giving poison presents, so shiny and clever, and destructive and lethal. I could be wrong, but it fits just a little too well. Also, I never said he was done with us, just that was what he did in the past. I think there's more, I just don't know it all . . . yet," Jeff told them as he pulled on his boots and pants.

     "That's quite a ghost story," Smithers said, "You seem to know who, but why?"

     "To enjoy the chaos and suffering, and for other reasons," Jeff explained as he fitted the Pokèballs into the belt. "I have a suspect, and the apparent crimes, but I don't know the motive behind them."

     "Why do I think this has something to do with your desire to go to the Orange Islands?" Smithers asked, "The others may think it's to get an Orange Island certificate, but I bet you could pass their final exam right now if you had a mind to. You may have soothed a Storm Demon, and added a controllable Widow to your Har - defenders, but even you aren't up to controlling an Evangelion."

     Jeff smiled. "You'd be surprised."

     Then he vanished. Honey stared.

     "Can he do that?" Smithers asked in horror.

     "Yes," Honey said, "And he left us with a problem. What are we going to do?"

     "I think that's what he told us," Smithers said.

     "Gem," the girl said as she picked up her pack and leapt through the window.

     "Okay, she had a plan, now, aside from packing up everything left and moving to our new hotel . . . what are we going to do?" Honey asked.

Jeff's Harem
Oyuki - Megami
Kiyone - Wolf Spider
Misato - Seraph
Ritsuko - Matron
Mara - Storm Demon
Gem - Blessed Widow
Liv - Witch
Cutey Honey - Titto

TITTO, the Copycat Pokègirl

Type: Near human Metamorph
Element: Magic
Frequency: Very Rare
Diet: liquid. Due to digestive problems, Tittos have trouble eating solid food
Role: a very adaptable Pokègirl, unfortunately not many are known to exist.
Libido: Average (with seasonal peaks)
Strong Vs: None
Weak Vs: Rock, Psychic
Attacks: Transform
Enhancements: shapeshifting
Evolves: Glass (normal), Brass (Fire Stone), Marble (Diamond Stone)
Evolves From: Statue (Water Stone), Marble (de-evolved with Water Stone), Psivamp (mechanism unknown), FireMaiden (special evolution stone)

     Titto is a rare Pokègirl with a single powerful ability. She can transform into a number of other forms, duplicating the abilities of other Pokègirls.

     It is more common for the Titto to partially transform, changing her legs to a Mermaid's tail for swimming, or manifesting an Angel's wings for flight, or changing a hand into a Warcat's claw. Titto full body transformations can only manage a range of 75% to 125% of her usual mass. The smaller the mass changed, the greater the control the Titto has over the end result.

     Titto are also vulnerable to sonic attacks. The most peculiar problem of Tittos is that when in their season, their drive to mate with a male that they have a psychic bond with is irresistible and frantic. If there is no such male, the Titto must be forcibly restrained or she will bond with any suitable male.

PSILADY, the Psychic Friend Pokègirl

Type: Near Human
Element: Psychic/Water
Frequency: Rare
Diet: human style foods
Role: friendship, psychic support
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Fighting, Fire, Poison, Psychic, Rock, Water
Weak Vs: Bug, Dark, Electric, Ghost, Ice, Plant
Attacks: Psychic, Water Gun, Confusion, Surf
Enhancements: Hold Breath (ten minutes)
Evolves: Psiqueen (mechanism unknown)
Evolves From: Psidyke (battle stress)

     The PsiLady first appeared in the Blue Continent, but shortly following it's discovery, all over the world, over two hundred Psidykes evolves into the PsiLady, almost in a chain reaction to the first.

     The PsiLady isn't very different from her Psidyke self. The only obvious changes are to her facial appearance, her greater beauty than before, her new water abilities and the loss of the genetic hatred of men.

     While this does NOT mean they will sleep with men (they remain lesbians), they do not hate them with a passion.

HEROWU, the Heroic Weapon-Using Pokègirl

Type: Very Near Human
Element: Fighting
Frequency: Rare
Diet: human style foods, especially rice
Role: warriors, bodyguards, weaponsmasters
Libido: Average (High with a Tamer they like)
Strong Vs: Bug, Dark, Ice, Normal, Rock, Steel
Weak Vs: Flying, Psychic
Attacks: Chi Blast, Parry, Punch, Kick, Deflect, Bonk, Sword Dance, Swordwave, Flame Sword Mark II, Electric Blade Mark II, Ice Blade Mark II
Enhancements: Enhanced Strength (x7), Enhanced Reflexes (x3), Enhanced Speed (x2), Endurance, Weapon Proficiency
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Amazonwu (normal)

     When an Amazonwu is Tamed enough and wins enough fights, she is able to make the jump to becoming a Herowu.

     A Herowu likes to consider herself the epitome of her weapon. To her, the weapon she has specialized in is nothing more than an extension of herself. She is literally never without it, keeping it on her when she eats, sleeps, bathes, Tames, or whatnot. Her dedication to her weapon is so great that it becomes more than a focus of battle for her. Experienced Tamers know that using a Herowu`s weapon to help Tame her turns the Herowu on greatly. A Herowu that specialized in a sword becomes very wet when the cold metal is pressed to her nipples, and when the handle is pushed into her cunt and pumped back and forth, she is quickly reduced to a moaning, writhing frenzy. This fetish never becomes a painful one though. No Herowu enjoys being cut or beaten with their weapon, much to the disappointment of Pokègirls that enjoy domination.

     In combat, a Herowu always uses her weapon to attack and defend. Even if her weapon isn`t a sword, she is still able to use all of the listed attacks with it, despite many of them having the word "sword" or "blade" in them. They usually use the best appropriate on their weapon when fighting an opponent that is weak versus that element. Should they ever be disarmed, they try to get back to their weapon, using Parry to defend themselves until they can reach it. If they are in dire straits without their weapon, they can use Punch and Kick, but these do relatively little damage. A smart Tamer withdraws his Herowu from combat if she loses her weapon.

     Herowus are not full of themselves, despite their superb skills with their chosen weapons. They don`t rise to challenges and baitings as easy as some other Fighting-types, although they still do rise to them if persistently sent at them. Should they lose their weapon, they seek to recover it if possible, but they aren`t obsessive over this. To them, having a new one bought/made for them serves just as well, as long as it's the exact same type of weapon. Like their pre-evolved forms, coffee slows a Herowu down, making her tired and sluggish, until she collapses. Most Herowus prefer a sip of coffee after Taming to help insure a good night`s sleep.

     Feral Herowus are an odd sight. They still instinctively understand that they need their weapon, but they don`t have the skills to use it that well, being unable to use anything besides Bonk and Parry with it. They tend to be very embarrassed about how inept they become when Feral, and try very hard not to regress to that state. An excellent method of capturing a Feral Herowu is to take her weapon, since she will ignore almost everything else to focus on getting it back, practically letting herself be attacked. Threshold girls virtually never evolve into a Herowu directly. Only one case has been confirmed in the last twenty years, with the victim, seemingly arbitrarily, choosing a weapon that from then on became her signature weapon.