Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ SLIS - NWO ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

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Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. 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 or kelvins.choice@comcast.net

Tales of the SLIS -NWO #3

      The three of us walk. Luce talks. "I saw Fred, Frederica, waiting and we talked. Discussed a few things we had in common, and I told her about me, most of what I knew about you. Which isn't as much as I thought it was." Luce pokes Sean in the side.

      "I'm a cop, I keep secret," Sean replies, "Get used to it."

      Luce smiles. He said 'get used to it', she thinks, I can be part of his life.

      "As long as I don't have to like it," she says and snuggles against him. They enter the restaurant like that.

      "I'll keep that in mind," Sean promises.

      "Welcome back, the veranda, or your usual table?' the owner asks.

      "My usual," Sean replies, "I like having my back to the wall."

      "I'll keep that in mind," Fred comments and grins.

      "I . . . "

      I won't cry, Luce tells herself.

      "I had to sell my collection, really, give it up."

      "I'm sorry," Sean tells her, kisses her forehead."

      "This isn't segregated?" Luce asks.

      "Nope, all any smart vendor cares about in Sunshine is the color of your money. Although if you're a Pokè, it better be hard cash," Fred tells her.

      "Doesn't that cause a host of problems?" Luce asks, "If a Master dies, who inherits the business? It can't be his Pokèwife, can it?"

      "That's what wills are for," Sean explains, "Pokègirls can own property, raise children, even own other girls. Although that's a Harem dynamic I wouldn't want to consider."

      "So I could, work at a center, get paid and . . . "

      "Buy another collection," Fred concludes, "If I may ask, a collection of what?"

      "Toys," Luce says, her face a mask.

      "Okay, my turn. I was a Valkyrie. I used my talents to work with a Joy up in the mountains near Redding on the Pacific side. I could sense when there was trouble. I went out, and brought them back.. The Joy and I Tamed each other, so I have no problem with that. Although her thing was riding crops, and spanking. There was a reason she used a standing desk and there were no chairs in her office. Aside from the old Clydesdame who lived in town and liked to roleplay as a steeplechase horse, no one knew or cared. Okay, too much information. Addy was a first-rate Pokèdoc, a DPM and everything."

      "Doctor of Pokègirl Medicine," Sean tells Luce as they sit and each takes a menu.

      "I can do a vegetarian," the owner offers, "We have customers who won't even eat sprouted grains."

      "Thank you," Luce says, "I can eat a normal diet."

      The man nods and moves off.

      "Addy went to a conference, and never came back. She got caught in that Mantis ball nonsense, when Team Rocket started using them. She was rescuing some kids from some crazy monster." Fred pauses to compose herself. "We weren't Recognized or Bonded. But ever since I felt my first Ferality, she was the one who Tamed me and kept it away. We worked the cases together. I got my license as a LPN, RN and NP, all at her urging and with her help."

      "Licensed Practical Nurse, Registered Nurse and Nurse Practitioner," Sean tells the increasingly stunned Luce, "Which means she can work on all people: Pokès and humans. She can't do major surgery on a human unsupervised, but a surgeon can phone or videoconfernce anything but the most complicated procedures."

      This can't be possible, Luce thinks, but has to ask.

      "Can . . . I . . . ?" Luce asks quietly.

      "Sure. It's online, and there's the Survey Board tests. As long as you can get in the door, answer the questions and pass the lab practical, you can't prescribe drugs or oversee long-term cases without consulting a doctor, but if someone drops at your feet, you can do almost anything short of open-heart surgery to save them."

      "What went wrong?" Sean asks.

      "When Addy died, they sent a Megami, who wanted me to cover the desk, quit going out and learn to do all the paperwork," Fred says, "Nuts to that. I was a doctor's partner, and a Pokègirl was trying to turn me into a secrepokè."

      "Yeah," Sean agrees, "They can be like that. Telling you how it's good for you. As if you have to live with their decision and then learn to enjoy it."

      "It's fun teasing them about that Manifesto that came out a few months ago. I think it was a crank post, but it sure answers a bunch of things about Megami," Fred jokes, "Ever notice the busty ones don't act like the flat ones do?"

      Luce laughs, despite herself.

      "Anyway, I wanted to make a new start. So I evolved and did a short stint on one of the SLUT execution teams. Mostly Picador stuff, no real camera time."

      "You got a Dawn Stone?" Luce asks, "That must have been difficult."

      Sean coughed. "There are other ways to evolve."

      Luce stares at the two.

      "Dawn Stones are the only guaranteed way to evolve. A dozen high-level mages experimenting with artificial evolution isn't something most Tamers can ever see, or hope to accomplish."

      "Carmen just happened to have an opportunity," Fred admits, "I don't know why she had me in mind."

      "The mages at Nuevo Tenochtitlàn evolved you?" Luce asks, "Is that possible, is it legal?"

      "I had to sign more papers than I can count, and I'm here," Fred tells her, "So yes, to both."

      "Could I - no, I don't want to be a Night-Nurse," Luce admits.

      "They had some experiments where they tried to . . . induce evolutions in dead-end girls," Fred tells them, "Those have been illegal for about a century and a half. 'The results were, unfortunate,' is all they'll say about it."

      "I can guess," Luce says.

      The owner approaches. "Are you ready to order?"

      "Irish stew, with the soda bread," Sean says.

      "The chef's salad," Luce says.

      "I'm going to be the weirdo. Vichyssoise, Waldorf salad and Caesar salad, extra anchovies," Fred says, then turns to the others, "My favorites, and I rarely see them all together on one menu."

      The owner smiles but takes the orders, the menues, and heads away.

      "I note you didn't order any wine, or beer," Fred says.

      "I don't drink," Sean says, "I had a companion complain that when I drank, I tasted funny."

      Fred giggles. "Addy loved these sausage and pepper sandwiches, and about two days later, she couldn't understand why I wasn't interested in Taming her."

      Both Luce and Fred giggle at this.

      "So much for garlic and onion on pizzas," Sean says quietly, making the girls giggle further.

      We are laughing as we walk home in the twilight. Okay Carmen, she is a delight, Sean thinks, And she's probably seen enough to make no judgements about my apparent deformities. Whether I tell either one the truth is something I don't intent to seriously consider for quite some time. Home is the first door way, and with each door I go through, it limits my further choices.

      "I've enjoyed it," Fred says, "But I have a bunk at the Legion barracks."

      "You don't have to go," Sean tells her.

      Fred smiles. "Not tonight," she says firmly, "I haven't been with a man for a long time, not since I had my second puberty, and I'm in season right now."

      Sean nods. "Would it help if I told you I have protection?" Sean asks, "I do admit that I haven't used them for their intended use."

      "What then?" Fred asks, then exclaims, "Don't tell me, I've watched a few investigations." She waves as she heads off.

      Luce snuggles up to Sean. "I'm a Pokègirl and I haven't had a Taming since you left."

      "You shouldn't be going Feral yet. I wonder, if you've been a good Pokègirl. Or are you going to have to be punished."

      "Oh no, you won't trick me that way," Luce says defensively, "What does the sadist say when the masochist says 'hurt me'? 'No.' I'll be clear, even if it's only snuggling. I want to spend the night with you. The week. The rest of my life."

      "You've already admitted that you don't know me."

      "Maybe, but I know you enough to want to learn more." Luce looks up and Sean and smiles.

      "Julio, that's nuts," Sean tells the hacker.

      "Look boss, you gave me data. I give you patterns. It's not my job to make the patterns acceptable or even make sense."

      "Why the Hell would our killer jump breeds?" Sean asks.

      "You wanted contra-indications, so I checked other breed who fell to the same tactics. It's rare but there it is. This one of the Thousand is a warrior, especially a sex warrior. Joys have odd tastes, but fighting and fighting well is too rare, and I doubt making War while making Love is their cup of tea."

      "But Demon-Goddess fits," Sean concludes, "Sorry, Julio. It's been a rough couple of days. I've also got company."

      "Oh, can I see her, is she cute?"

      "Shirley, you can hit him for me, I won't see anything."

      "Ow. Okay, just nosey. Speaking of nosey, who's going to tell the leaders of the Silver River that the assassination a couple of years ago was nothing of the kind?"

      "Not me," Sean says, "Above my pay grade, for a while. That's some good news, and please don't spoil it by telling me the ritual is nearly complete, so we have to rush to end it before the world ends."

      "Naw," Shirley says as she leans close to the camera, trying to look around and see anyone else there.

      Luce is asleep, and Fred's, gonna get a rude wake up, Sean thinks.

      "At their rate, you've got fifteen years before most of the major players have a sacrifice, and there seems to be lots of small fry mixed in with the current victims, so call it 20 years after that for all the members."

      "They also have the island locked up tight, someone raised the alarm before the victims were even dead. So if the murderer 'ported out, they're fish food now. Otherwise, they are still on the island. Unless your killer was willing to swim to another island, he she or it."

      " 'It'?" Sean asks.

      "Hermaphrodite, or nonHuman/nonPokè. It could be a demon trying to buy its way into a big boost of power."

      "Thanks, Julio, I was just wondering how my headache could get worse."

      "You want worse?" Julio offers, "She's already heading there, you'd better hurry."

      "I thought . . . no, the ArchChancellor hates her."

      "Hate or not, she'll get there nearly a day before you will. Even if you get an express," Shirley adds.

      "Okay, keep me apprized of any developments." Sean cuts the connection and glances back into the bedroom where Luce waits, nervous about the early morning call.

      Sean walks back to the room. "I'm afraid our 'lazy get acquainted weekend' will have to wait."

      "I'm going with you, and take Fred too," Luce tells Sean, "A Nurse Joy isn't much, but I have a few tricks, and a Malakim can also fly, so she can do . . . second story work?"

      "I'll apologize to both of you, profusely, on the ride down. I thought I'd get a few day's break." Sean shrugs. "It wasn't meant to be."

      Luce steps up to him, letting the sheet she'd wrapped herself in slide to the floor. She snuggles against him. "You'll make up for it, on the blimp. At least for a few hours. We can all 'get acquainted' then." She smiles encouragingly at him, then pinches his butt. "Now go get dressed and get Fred. I'll pack my stuff and lay out some of yours. How formal do we have to be?"

      "Oh, white tie, top hat and tails everywhere," Sean tells her.

      "Do I have time to go shopping?" Luce asks worriedly, "I don't have anything that formal."

      "Who said anything about formal, that's all they wear," Sean says over his shoulder as he leaves.

      Fred looks up at the face of the man who'd carefully awakened her. "Sean?" she asks, "It's 0500."

      "I know, but I need a combat type. Carmen vouched for you, that's good enough for me," Sean tells her, "And we're going to Nuevo Tenochtitlàn, after a possible murderer."

      "I'm going," she says as she sits up letting the covers spill off , "But we need to improve your pillow talk skills."

      "You'll have a couple days to instruct me," Sean tells her, "The only questions is do you want to be an employee or a servant?"

      "Who pays?" Fred asks, "The SLIS or you? You'll get the money from the SLIS in either case, so why be a hypocrite? Is Luce going?"

      Sean glances around. "I don't think I can get rid of her. She's nice, but Recognition is supposed to go both ways, right?"

      "I think she's simply in love with you. There's nothing metaphysical about it."

      She watches his stunned expression with satisfaction. "You never figured?"

      "No, I hadn't," he admits.

      "If we're going there's something I always wanted to try, but Addy was too scared to even think about it."

      "Don't worry, at Nuevo Tenochtitlàn, you can join the mile-high club, with both feet firmly planted on bedrock."

      "The harnesses are generally worn when someone needs to check the outer hull," the tech explains with a practiced air, "Since this is a zeppelin and not a blimp, it's got a skeleton, so it's possible to walk on the surface, in places."

      The lounge is the only relatively large area of the 'Express' that wasn't stuffed with supplies or cargo, mostly mail. "We trail you in the plume of the exhaust, because the slipstream is enough to give frostbite to an ice-type. Even this far south, a 170 mile per hour wind can freeze."

      "So we have to do it in broad daylight, in full view of everybody?" Luce asks nervously, glancing from Fred to Sean.

      "Afraid so."

      Luce bows her head. "Fred . . . I can't. I'm open-minded, but in public . . . I can't."

      "I'm not that eager to do it hanging in a harness either, I want the fear of falling as . . . " Fred looks at Sean. "You knew."

      Sean nods. "I just thought you should hear from a professional."

      "I thought you could parasail in just a swimsuit around here," Fred comments.

      "Not at 15,000 feet," the tech offers, "And we climb to that altitude fairly shortly after takeoff."

      "Many takers?" Sean asks.

      "A few daredevil exhibitionists, and a few fire-types do it at night, then their Tamers can finally do it without salves or protective gear."

      Fred got a thoughtful look. "With protective gear, we could operate off the tail hook?"

      "There's a winch back there, yes. But the gear is so bulky, Taming would be nearly impossible. The captain would never allow the attempt."

      "It's not Taming," Sean realizes.

      "The harness, it wouldn't foul my wings?" Fred asks.

      "No ma'am, in fact, we've got a rig for just what you've got in mind. We've even used it to move a Nurse Joy or other teams from one ship to another. Never thought we'd use it this way though."

      "Live and learn, live and learn," Fred says.

      "What's going on?" Luce asks.

      "OHH! WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Luce screams as Fred dove then swoops up through the currents following the zeppelin.

      "Unless the harness is damaged, no we aren't," Fred shouts back over the wind, as she held the NurseJoy tight against her and caught up with the airship, so the slack let her do an outside loop.

      "AAHHHH!" Luce screams through the entire stunt.

      "Okay, we'll head in. I thought you weren't afraid of flying."

      "I'm afraid of drowning!" Luce shouted back, as she clung tightlly to Fred and looked around at the water as far as the eye could see, the faint sparkle of sunlight on the ripples.

      "Oh, don't worry. From this altitude, it would be like hitting cement. You wouldn't survive."

      "I wish you'd told me that earlier, I don't have a phobia about getting smashed to pieces and having fish eat the bloody fragments," Luce says thankfully as Fred caught up with the zeppelin and carries her passenger onboard.

      "I think I spoiled the mood," Fred tells Sean as one tech anchors the pair to the framework, while another unhooks the winch cable.

      "No problem, you looked like you were having fun."

      "I was, any other takers?" Fred asks eagerly.

      "Sorry ma'am, slow and steady is my motto," the tech who been helping them says, "I'm, an airship man, not an airplane man for just that reason," he leans close and tells her, "Besides, my Pokèwife would never understand, and she's the ships cook. She's poison both of us and serve us up as long-Pokè."

      Fred laughs at that and lets the man help her out of the harness. She folds her wings into her body and carefully picks up Luce. "I know you can probably walk, but let's not chance it," Fred tells the still shaking NurseJoy.

      "Okay," Luce snuggles against the Malakim.

      "There are places where the warm wind goes through the jungle and hits the mountains," Sean says, "Fliers catch those currents and can stay aloft for hours. Some of them, you can guess."

      "Yeah, we'll check some out."

      "Far inland," Luce adds.

      Sean nods his agreement as they pick their way through the tight corridors to their small stateroom. The Malakim places the snoozing NurseJoy in the upper bunk, and clips the restraint netting in place. She lets the flight overalls slide to the ground, revealing the bra and panties underneath.

      "I didn't realize the cold got to you," Sean says while he looks her over, as she pulls off her bra.

      "I was considering how to get promoted out of 'hired help' and into a partnership position," she says as she pulls the panties down one long well-toned leg, then the other, "Then I realized 'Hey, I can sleep with the boss!'" She shot the panties across the short distance and hit Sean in the chest.

      "There are better ways," he says, "The boss is a very busy man, and getting an appointment . . . "

      She unbuttons Sean's shirt, and feels him tense up. "I've got no trouble with nipples. Addy seemed to think I was perversely fascinated by them, and I see you aren't immune to the cold either." She begins by touching, stroking softly. "I do wonder . . . "

      "What?"

      "I used to be able to get Addy off, just by doing this," she says dreamily, "A stroke, a little pinch, a roll, and she'd get harder, and harder. Just like you're doing."

      "And somewhere else," Sean warns.

      "Good, Luce had me in my ball for a while, so I know someplace to keep him occupied, while we play," she says as she grins.

      "Nuevo Ten," Luce breathes as she watches the airship approach the mountain city of canals and impossible spires. "The way it's talked about, I expected gargoyles and monsters around every corner. It's like a fairy tale kingdom. With the wrong color scheme."

      "Yeah," Fred agrees, "Basalt and lava rock don't generally appear in the lighter colors. But the stained glass, the tapestries, and the rest are all so colorful and vibrant. I loved being here, but once the experiment was over, I was encouraged to leave."

      "They didn't want you around?" Luce asks.

      "The prices drove me out. Everything here is imported, or dragged up the slopes from below. So the things are pretty pricy."

      "Fortunately, the station up here has bunks and three meals a day, so we won't starve or sleep in the rain, which it does a lot," Sean says.

      "Every night it seems, 'At the time of the greatest temperature gradient, the humid air cannot hold its moisture, and the material agglomerates and falls to Earth as rain.' I took a couple of classes while they were investigating my case. They actually have one-day seminars for tourists and transients, to learn about the weather, the flora, the fauna, and the dangers."

      The group walks down the airships ramp and across the field towards the buildings. Sean looks around to make certain they aren't being followed.

      "Yeah," Sean says embarrassedly, "Speaking of dangers, you should know. The posting here by the SLIS is considered disciplinary. They send their real screw-ups, nut-jobs and attitude problems here. Some get the message and straighten out. Others . . . they decided they like it and settle in."

      Luce asks, "What can we YIPE!?"

      "Yep, expecting that," Sean says and points the powerful flashlight at their shadows. Fred, then Luce follow suit.

      "Ow bright light, bright light!" the figure squirms under the beams, "Cute little E-ko burns in bright light. Makes her smell all charred and funny."

      "Hello Echo," Sean says in a bored tone, "Behold the power of shadows made flesh. All those without matches or a flashlight cry in terror."

      "You're hurting her," Luce says, while rubbing her abused bottom and holding her light steady.

      "Behold a Fiendish Shadowgirl," Sean says, "And a butt-pinching pervert."

      "E-ko is a good Pokègirl, and nobody ever proved otherwise!" the squirming girl complains.

      "Except the review board," Sean says. Sean turns to the girls. "She got a bad reputation for voyeurism, peeping on the other cadets, but they thought she'd grow out of it. Then a Demoness 'gifted' her with the template. Then got killed before she could pull it back."

      "E-ko's good Pokègirl!" the girl insists.

      "She pinched the behinds of certain powerful and influential people."

      "They were standing around being boring! It was E-ko's solemn duty to liven things up!"

      "And was banished here."

      "And the University, has never forgiven the SLIS," Fred adds.

      "The female half, at least," Luce says.

      "Oh, no, both genders," Fred corrects, "E-ko doesn't discriminate, does E-ko. Gaak! I'm starting to talk like her!"

      "E-ko's a good Pokègirl," the girl protests.

      Sean shut off the beam, Fred and Luce do so reluctantly. "Weren't you told to do something, when you saw us?"

      "Yes, bring you to the Captain, then E-ko was seized by strange impulses, beyond E-ko's control and - and - and -!" The Pokègirl bursts into tears.

      Sean starts walking, the girls follow, not taking their eyes off the sobbing girl.

      Luce begins staring at something else. "Ah, you weren't kidding about the top hat and tails, those girls . . . " Luce says.

      "Yes, the . . .dress code is very open here," Fred says, "Considering the heat and humidity, most people avoid suit and tie, or slacks, or a long-sleeves shirt, if they can help it."

      "But just a ribbon, and that around her throat?" Luce says as she stares at the girls walking away, "And shaved, completely?"

      "I want to make a statement about how different I am, just like all my friends," Sean says disgustedly, "Same as any college in the world. A bunch of boring noise makers thinking they're avant garde for coming up with some new stupidity. Thirty years ago it was piercing, fifteen years ago it was branding, now it shave yourself completely and walk around nude."

      "It would have been better if they weren't so . . . "

      "Zaftig? Reubenesque?" Fred offers.

      "Morbidly obese," Luce says in reply, "If they were nice to look at, or even just a little plump, I could understand, but that's just unhealthy. And for those around them. Clothes are also a sanitary item."

      "That's the look they've chosen, and fortunately it means they die early," Sean says, "Unfortunately some of them reproduce parthenogenically, so they pass the idiocy on to the next generation. There's an old joke that the people you least want to see naked, are the ones campaigning for public nudity."

      Fred and Luce snicker at that.

      "Are we going to take a boat?" Luce asks nervously as they near a canal.

      "The canals are only 5 feet deep, except the heavy cargo routes, so there's little chance of drowning," Fred reassures her.

      "The station is on the outer ring, so you can walk there," Sean tells her, "I was occasionally stationed here, as a overly eager young lad."

      "Ah, attitude and discipline problem?" Fred teases as they walk.

      "Sick of being in my father's and grandfather's shadows," Sean says, "They made such a name for themselves, I decided I needed a break from their sterling reputation," he explains as they walk up the steps to a building with the sign 'Police' over the door, flanked by a pair of colorful murals. One filled with hearts, flowers and butterflies centered on the words 'Pig Fascists Go Home'. The other which made many-hued rainbows around the phrase 'Fuck the SLIS'.

      Luce stops to read the bronze plaque beneath the second mural. " 'Taming rooms available within.' I don't think that's what the graffiti artists meant."

      "That's the mentality of the people here. They wouldn't paint over this, although the University periodically does. They just change the plaque, and thus make the grand 'political statement' so much hogwash. It also is good to have surveillance tapes of professors doing some vandalism, when the University gets up on its high Ponytaur about standards of freedom of thought, tolerance and such." Sean pauses at the door. "Like I said, people here are here because they are screw-ups and weirdos, those who stay, don't grow out of it."

      "Like you did," Luce suggests.

      "Yes, especially when I learned my dad and grandad did a stint here, each. So even when I rebelled, I was following family tradition. I think I'm going to see to it my kids go here straight out of the Academy, it will save time later."

      They enter the building through doors of solid volcanic glass that open easily at the merest touch, then swing closed silently.

      "That's spooky," Fred comments as the door seem to drift back into place.

      "That's first-rate engineering," Sean replies, "When the Applied Magic and Pokègirl department opened, the SLIS started a contest, 1000 20 dollar gold pieces, that's 200,000 SLC, as a prize for the best practical application of Pokègirls and magic to everyday life. You had to build the gizmo, as well as write a report. Those doors and the techniques to cut and shape them were one of the first winning entries."

      The woman who greets them is clearly an Officer Jenny, although broader shouldered, almost to the Amachamp level. Her uniform, tailored like a one piece swimsuit, drew their eyes.

      "Captain," Sean says and salutes.

      "Is that a Sparkanine pelt?" Luce asks amazed.

      She strokes furry head which rested on one breast. "Yes, poor Fluffy."

      "Poor once she got through with it or . . . her partner?" Fred asks.

      "Little of both," Sean whispers back.

      The Captain turns and walks away, the sway of her hips causing the tail to wag.

      "Nice healthy girl," Luce says darkly.

      "And you better remember that," Sean warns, "She only Tames Pokègirls, and is quite insistent about no humans allowed inside."

      "Oh," Luce brightens, "So it's 'look, but don't touch'."

      "It's 'touch and pull back a stump'."