Pokémon: The Storage System
Rated PG-13
(just like the film that inspired it)
Originally published on April 1st, 2019

Ten Years Ago…

“Celio,” drawled a languid voice from underneath the desk, “do you know what the surest predictor of individual success is?”

The young man blinked rapidly behind his thick glasses. “Uh, I don’t know, Willy. Money?”

“Do you mean family wealth, the wealth of the society, or…? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” A hand emerged into view, opening and closing rapidly. Celio dutifully placed a screwdriver in it and the hand retreated back under the table. “No, the best way to know whether or not someone will be successful is intelligence.” There was a minute of silence as Willy completed a section and then he pulled himself bodily out of the shadows under the table and wiped a handful of sweat away from under his bushy brown head of hair. As he downed a can of off-brand soda, his dark eyes met Celio’s expectantly.

“Well, that depends on how you measure success, doesn’t it?” Celio said tentatively.

Willy finished his drink and smacked his lips loudly and threw the can onto a pile of identical empties. “Don’t be cute. You know what I’m getting at.”

“I- I do?”

“Why are the two of us spending a Saturday night modifying a computer instead of living it up?” One of Willy’s hands gestured impatiently in the air. “What good is being geniuses if all of the girls are getting snatched up by cavemen?”

Celio was silent as he started up the computer and watched the machine boot up. When he finally thought that he had a response, he said, “We have to study, Willy. Those guys might be out getting drunk and, uh, laid right now, but we’ll be the ones with vacation homes and corvettes.”

“Don’t set your sights so low, man! I’m not settling for anything less than a private plane, maybe two.” The energy dissipated as quickly as it had come on, and Willy reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “But whatever, you’re wrong. Nobody became great from what they learned in textbooks.” When Celio did not take the bait argue the point, Willy shot him a dirty look and continued as though he had, “In any field, the only way that you achieve greatness is by breaking the mold. Then they write about your amazing breakthrough; your theorem, formula, whatever; in the next edition of the textbooks and the next generation has to try to surpass you. That’s the story of the human race, standing on the shoulders of giants and reaching ever higher.” He moved brusquely past Celio to pick up a thick volume that lay open on top of the desk proudly showing off a dizzying mosaic of notations and highlights. “This is yesterday’s genius, but it won’t work a second time! All this time studying what people used to do with computers is a distraction from discovering what they will do with them!” He hurled the book with startling viciousness at the pile of soda cans, sending them scattering in a cacophony of metal on metal.

Celio had flinched at the violence with which his schoolbook was treated, but he did not do more than that. He waited, and then he waited some more while Willy fumed. Then they both wordlessly agreed to work together to clean up the mess. Only after their shared room looked more or less presentable for two university students, did Celio speak again, “So, what do you want to do?”

Willy looked sullenly at the textbook that Celio had returned to its place of honor on the desk before storming across the room to grab his coat. “Oh, what the hell? Let’s go get drunk.”

Present Day…

Both men entered the room flanked by their respective chief legal consul. That had been the agreement made after repeated attempts by one of the men to intimidate the other ended with almost a dozen paralegals squeezed into a tiny conference room along with representatives from every other level of his hired firm’s workforce. It was simpler this way, cleaner, but no matter what their legal representation said, neither man wanted things to be clean and simple. They wanted to fight dirty and brutally. They wanted to draw blood. The head of the legal team working for the plaintiff had said around the water cooler at the office that it was like working a divorce case with all of the scabbed-over wounds and petty acts of cruelty. Truth be told, he had only been half-joking.

Three of the men in the meeting room were wearing suits and ties, but one of them was dressed more casually in an unbuttoned polo shirt and comfortable khaki pants. He was the plaintiff in the case, but he did not appear to regard his opponent seated across the long wooden conference as a threat, much less an equal. Instead, the casually dressed man let his dark eyes drift lazily over his one-time friend as if the latter was not even there. It was a frustrating display of arrogance, one of many that the man had carefully cultivated over these long sessions. But it was an act, everyone knew it. As soon as the meeting was concluded for the day, the man, for all of his considerable worth, would explode in a tempest of rage inside of the nearest bathroom, savaging trash cans, paper towel dispensers, anything he could reach.

The defendant’s consul had witnessed one of these outbursts early on and reported it to his client. Maybe it meant that they were getting the best of him? he had suggested. But his client had said that the person who the plaintiff was hardest on was himself. This assessment appeared to be borne out over the following weeks. No matter which side had “won” the day, the plaintiff would still reappear at the next meeting with a newly-healed wounds on his knuckles without a word said.

His own consul could not help but feel a certain level of anticipation at how big the outburst would be when he unveiled the newest component of his legal strategy, or if there would be one at all? There was a morbid curiosity on his part to find out.

But that would have to wait for a little while longer. For now, the lawyer looked around at the gathered foursome and crisply said, “It appears that we are all here. Gentlemen, shall we begin?”

Ten years ago…

The two students arrived at the nearest college bar and were unsurprised to find it filled to the brim on this bitterly cold winter night. Willy roughly pushed his way to the bar while Celio followed quickly through the gaps left in his wake. They managed to order a pair of simple drinks and receive them before they were ejected from their hard-won spot by the next wave of thirsty university students. Holding their drinks close to their chests, Willy and Celio looked around the room.

“Where to, Celio?” demanded Willy.

“Uh, can we find a place to sit?” When that suggestion only received a stony silence, Celio tried again, “Maybe there’s someone we know?”

As if in answer to his wish, a familiar face framed with red hair emerged from the crowd and started towards the two young men with a wave. “Hey, Celio! Will! I didn’t know you guys were into the bar scene!”

“Hey, Lanette,” Celio said with a shy smile.

“Who’s your friend?” interjected Willy.

Lanette’s brows narrowed behind her thick-framed glasses, but she said cheerfully enough, “My sister, Brigitte. She’s visiting me for the weekend.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Brigette, flashing a dazzling smile and stepping past her sister to plant her hand firmly in Willy’s. Her hair was the same shade of red as Lanette’s, but cut short and she carried herself with a confidence that eclipsed her frumpier-dressed sister.

In short, she had Willy’s full attention. “Hey, I’m Will,” he started with a line that Celio had overheard him practicing in front of their dorm’s bathroom mirror, “what’s your story?”

To her credit, Brigette gave him a pitying giggle. “I graduated a few years ago, studied computers just like my sis.”

Both Willy and Celio exchanged a look before the former said, “Lanette’s your, ah, younger sister then?”

“I’m right here,” pouted Lanette.

“Yeah, she is,” Brigette cooed, “but she really got the brains in the family.”

“And you got the-”

Willy’s sleazy comment was cut short by Celio’s elbow digging into his side. “Well, we were just trying to find a place to sit down,” he said, “care to join us?”

A silent conversation passed between Lanette and Brigette in an instant, and then they shrugged simultaneously and the former said, “Sure, why not?”

They hugged a wall for about fifteen minutes just talking about nothing of any consequence until some people sitting at a table started to get their coats on. Even before they had all gotten out of their seats, Willy, Celio, and the girls were setting their drinks on the table. It was not pretty, but it got the four of them sitting down in one spot.

After they were all settled in, Celio tried his hand at starting a conversation. “So, uh, have you heard about the new Pokémon they made this week?”

Lanette and Brigette leaned forward expectantly, but Willy rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off it, man,” he said. “You’ve been talking about that thing nonstop.”

“I’d be interested in hearing more,” Lanette huffed, and her sister smiled and nodded.

Outvoted, Willy saluted Celio mockingly with his glass.

“Well, Silph made an announcement the other day that they created the world’s first completely digital Pokémon in a facility on Cinnabar.”

“Like a virtual pet or something?” asked Brigette.

Celio shook his head gently. “No, it’s a real Pokémon! It can battle and you can, uh, hug it, touch it, I mean, and everything.”

Now it was Lanette’s turn to ask a question, “Then, what makes it ‘digital’?”

“It was created completely on a computer! Plus, they made it so that it can move back and forth between cyberspace and the real world!”

Willy excused himself refill their drinks. The others hardly noticed his leaving, adding to his mounting annoyance.

“So, if this Pokémon can go on a computer, does that mean it can get a virus?” asked Brigette.

“Or be sent in an e-mail?” Lanette added.

Under their attention, Celio blushed and stammered out a rambling reply, “I, uh, don’t know all the details, just what I read in the article. But if it is able to transform itself between a physical body and one constructed out of code, and maintain that form, then I don’t see why it shouldn’t have all of the strengths and weaknesses of a computer file.”

“That’s super cool!” Brigette exclaimed suddenly with a snap of her fingers. “You could send it to someone, or trade it, without even having to be in the same place as them.”

“Not to mention the fact that you don’t have to feed a computer file, although…”

Whatever Lanette’s concern was, it was swept aside when Willy returned with his own observation, “Too bad that you can’t do it with just any Pokémon. It has to be that stupid-looking pink and blue duck.”

The girls’ enthusiasm dimmed noticeably. “Is it really that bad?” asked Brigette.

“It looks like a bunch of children’s blocks put together, all square with sharp angles. You can tell that it was designed by a bunch of suits.”

“They’re called ‘polygons’,” Celio butted in, “and it’s due to the-”

Lanette talked over him this time, musing, “The whole Pokémon was artificially designed, right? So does that mean that they could edit the code to make it look better? Or is a blocky appearance inherent to any Pokémon created from that template?”

Despite himself, the prospect of a challenge got Willy’s interest up, especially if he could impress girls in the process. “So, let’s think here; what are some ways that we could improve this ugly duckling into something people actually would want?”

“Maybe there’s a software that they could use to shape its appearance before creation?”

“Or one that alters it after the fact?”

“How much information is stored on the Pokémon’s file when it is digitized?”

“That’s a good question. Does it retain injuries that it sustained in meatspace?”

“Not just physical stuff; what about memories and experiences? Is it one Pokémon that goes in and out of the computer, or does it get overwritten with a fresh copy every time?”

Celio cleared his throat and managed to put a temporary halt to the stream of questions flowing back and forth between Lanette and Brigette. “It is the same Pokémon every time. I mean, the same individual Pokémon. They ran tests.” He withered under their interested gazes, and weakly finished, “It’s, uh, all in the article.”

“Come to think of it, Celio,” Willy said with a caricature of thoughtful curiosity on his face, “you still have the magazine that the article was in at our dorm, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s probably-” Celio’s feeble protest was interrupted by a savage kick to his leg under the table. He took the hint, bit his tongue, and focused on his drink instead.

Lanette looked skeptical, but her sister was already getting her coat on. “You guys got beer at your place, right?” asked Brigette.

“Um,” started Celio.

“We’ll pick some up on the way back!” Willy shouted.

Brigette laughed brightly. “Alright, boys, lead the way.”

Present Day…

The two lawyers walked compared notes on the last meeting between the two sides, correcting misconceptions and filling in gaps, while their two clients pointedly ignored one another. After they were done recapping, the head lawyer for the plaintiff made his announcement, “I specifically requested a larger meeting space for this session because I have finally been able to bring additional parties into the lawsuit against Mr. Knotman. They are waiting outside.”

Before any of the other men had time to react, the lawyer was out the door. The remaining attorney sat in his chair looking dumbstruck, but the room still exploded into a shouting match.

“What the hell, Bill?” the defendant screamed.

“Hey, this is news to me too, a**hole!” Bill snarled back.

There was nothing else substantial that the two men could say, but that did not stop them from unleashing a torrent of abuse back and forth that left Celio Knotman’s poor lawyer sweating and looking desperately at the exit. So much vitriol had been built up only to be fired off in a matter of seconds. Then, as soon as it had started, the yelling ended.

The reason for the sudden détente was the return of Bill’s counsel along with three new additions to the dysfunctional group, a man and two red-haired women. Both of them looked back and forth between Bill and Celio solemnly and then sat down, on the same side as Bill but with a good amount of distance between. The ugliness still hung in the air, but it was now tinged with feelings besides outrage: confusion, hurt, and wariness.

“Hi, Celio,” said one of the women. She forced a small smile onto her face while the other one had taken to inspecting her nails with diligence if not enthusiasm.

“Brigette,” he said quietly, and then nothing more.

Ten years ago…

While Willy sat on the couch with a cheap beer in one hand and his other arm awkwardly resting on Brigette’s shoulders, Celio and Lanette were sitting on the floor carefully reading the open magazine between them. Lanette took a sip from her own beer and said, “This is incredible, really incredible stuff.”

Celio beamed with pride, but when he looked up at Willy, the other young man looked bored. “Didja see the thing they made though?” asked Willy. “So stupid-lookin’.”

To his chagrin, Brigette got off of the lumpy couch and joined the others. “Oh, yikes,” she said when she saw the picture included with the article. “It’s even worse than you made it sound, Bill.”

“Well, hold on,” said Celio, “there’s more to a Pokémon than looks, right? I mean, look at this, it can learn electric- and psychic-type attacks!”

He was largely ignored. “If that’s what they’re selling, there’s no way that they’re going to be able to get anyone interested in this technology except for nerds,” Brigette mused. “No offense, guys.”

Willy laughed and took another drink. Then, he said, “So, you’re saying that they need something marketable? Boy, we really are the wrong people for that job!”

Lanette took another look at the picture in the magazine and adjusted her glasses. “Well, we do know some of the basics, right? What are the most popular Pokémon, that kids get as gifts or are always shown in movies and on television?”

“Pikachu,” everyone said with a simultaneous groan. Then they laughed and nursed their drinks then started offering more names.

“Clefairy?”

“Definitely Charmander.”

“Ooh, don’t forget Eevee!”

Lanette nodded and said, “Okay, let’s stop there. So all of these Pokémon are cute, most of them are furry, and they are pretty small. None of which is the case with this-” She had to double-check the magazine. “-Porygon.”

“Was that by design or an unintended consequence?” Brigette asked. “I mean, before you turn it into a Pokémon, how do you know what color a computer file is, or what size it is?”

“Or if it’s bald?” contributed Willy.

Celio suggested, “Trial and error?”

Brigette made a face. “That sounds dangerous. Like, you could get a lot of really messed-up Pokémon made, real abominations and stuff.”

“Maybe we could try reverse-engineering?” Lanette said thoughtfully, and then realized that everyone else was looking at her. “I mean, what if we could digitize a Pikachu, and then see what properties it has and use those to make a more, uh, appealing Pokémon?”

Willy grabbed another beer. “Why reinvent the wheel?” he said proudly. “If you can make a Pikachu into data, why invent a ‘Pika-Two’?”

“Wait a minute-” Celio started.

Lanette spoke over Celio, however, saying, “Go on!”

Surprised at this sudden attention, Willy had to take a few seconds to get his thoughts in order. “Well, I mean, uh, instead of focusing on the data-to-real life direction, why not think about trying to go the other way? I mean, after all, it is supposed to be a two-way street, right?” As he spoke, he gained confidence and soon his beer and even the feel of his arm wrapped around Brigette were forgotten. “The best part of what they did at Silph, for the average person at least, is not that they made a new Pokémon. *****, we’ve got too many of them to keep track of already! It was that they found a way to make a Pokémon that was totally transferable and storable. They spent so much time in that article talking about their ‘Porygon’ or whatever that they totally missed that this might be the biggest innovation since someone found out that you could keep Pokémon in apricots instead of cages or on leashes!”

For all his big talk, Willy was not altogether interested in the scientific discussion that his speech had spurred between Lanette and Celio. He would tackle the problem at his own pace, preferably tomorrow morning, or whenever he got up. Brigette was similarly shut out of the fast-moving exchange of ideas passing between her sister and Celio and she gravitated back to the couch and Willy’s side. They watched the others for a few minutes, and then she leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Willy’s ears burned scarlet, but he steeled himself with a final gulp of liquid courage and showed her to the bedroom.

Their departure was noted by Celio with some concern, but when he tried to get Lanette to look up from the notebook that she was filling with equations, she just said, “My sister’s big enough to make her own mistakes,” and then went back to her work. Sufficiently admonished, Celio returned to his own scribblings.

Eight years ago…

The four of them held their breath when Willy flipped the switch on the machine that they had struggled for months to build. It was certainly not going to win any beauty contests, but it was functional. At least, they hoped it was.

It was a boxy machine with exposed circuits and wires and a hollow opening sealed with a repurposed door from a microwave. Inside was a single red-and-white Poké Ball that Willy had procured for the experiment. They had initially considered using one of their own Pokémon, but no one had wanted to risk it, so they followed the scientific tradition of catching and then using a lab Rattata.

When he flicked the switch from off to on, there was a humming sound, then a clunk, and then a high-pitched whine as the inside of machine they built flashed with blinding white light. All four of them shielded their eyes and Willy flicked the switch back to the “off” position. Then they turned their attention to the computer that was hooked up to the bulky machine by an improvised cable.

Celio swung himself into the swivel chair in front of it and started scanning for new files. They had no idea where the Pokémon would go once digitized, or even that it would. For all they knew, it could still be in the Poké Ball or, they all considered silently, vaporized. Nobody wanted to be the ones to check, but while the computer was whirring, Willy opened up the microwave door and took out the Poké Ball, only to give a cry of pain and drop it when he picked it up.

“Hot,” he said defensively, before opening it with the toe of his shoe. There was no flash of red light, only a soft mechanical click as the sphere split open to reveal an empty interior.

Willy grinned at the others, and the tentative, knowing smile made its rounds several times over between him and the two girls. But Celio was not to be so easily cheered. “Let’s make sure that it made it into the computer before we start celebrating.”

He pulled up a window on the computer and started typing. When he found what he had been looking for, he leaned forward in his cheap swivel chair to examine it, and only after that let himself fall back in it and relax. “We did it,” he said breathlessly. “We did it!”

The others unceremoniously pushed Celio out of the way in order to crowd around the computer. They were all chattering over one another, no one really listening to what the others had to say, or even to their own words. Between Willy, Lanette, and Brigette, they must have examined the digitized Pokémon’s properties a dozen times. There was no doubting it; Brigette’s program confirmed that the Rattata had been successfully converted into digital information and stored on the computer.

“There’s so many more tests to run,” said Celio in a thunderstruck tone from his seat outside of the circle around the computer.

“This is just the beginning,” Willy said. In substance, he echoed his friend, but in terms of sentiment they were worlds apart.

Seven years ago…

“What the hell is this, Celio?” demanded Willy as he held up a piece of paper emblazoned with the corporate letterhead of the Silph Company.

The other man instinctually put up his hands to ward off a blow that never came. “It’s just an invitation to talk! Nothing more!” When he opened his eyes and saw that Willy was content to stare daggers at him, Celio continued, “I thought that it would be good to have a back-up plan, a backer, I mean. Someone to help us, make sure that we have the support that we need to make this crazy idea work.”

“We don’t need their kind of help,” Willy said darkly.

Celio risked a laugh. “Look at us! We’re about to graduate, barely, and we don’t have any jobs waiting for us. All because we spend every waking minute trying to get this Pokémon transfer system off the ground!”

Although his eyes were still narrowed, Willy allowed his face to relax slightly. “I told you that we weren’t going to call it that.” Then, “Besides, we don’t need them. They’re a bunch of visionless dinosaurs. I mean, look at the Pokémon they created when they had the chance!”

“They didn’t have any control over how Porygon would turn out, I thought we settled this.”

“Whatever, the point is that they aren’t the future, Celio – we are.”

Celio smiled sadly. “Maybe, but not for a while, and until then, if you want to get a job in tech in this country, Silph is your best bet.” He sensed an opening and went for it, saying, “Look, it’s just a meeting to talk to them, make them sit up and take notice of us.”

Taking another glance at the paper, Willy’s expression softened even more. “You put my name first.”

“What?”

“Look,” said Willy. Celio examined the letter, but said nothing. Then, his friend said, “It’s just a meeting, right?”

“Just dipping our toes in the water.”

With a heavy sigh, Willy sat down at the desk and said, “I know I’m going to regret this. Now, help me write our response.

It was not difficult to get the girls onboard with meeting with the representative from Silph, especially when it came with a free steak dinner. When the day came, Willy and Celio picked them up in the former’s beat-up truck and had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the two visions dressed in elegant dresses of blue and green. It made their own ill-fitting ties and sports coats seem woefully unimpressive, but Willy and Celio each privately consoled themselves that their business contact would in all likelihood not be paying too much attention to their get-ups.

“Say, can I see the list of questions you wrote for this guy?” asked Lanette. “I want to make sure that we’ve got all of our bases covered.”

The two young men in the front seats exchanged a glance. “Uh-” began Celio.

“Sorry, Lanette, can’t help you there,” interjected Willy. “Got ‘em all committed to memory. Right?”

Celio nodded weakly and echoed, “Right.”

Brigette giggled indulgently while Lanette looked sour, so already the night was off to a good start.

The restaurant that they went to was a dazzling affair, with the centerpiece of the dining room being a fountain that projected jets of water that rose two stories in the air from the mouths of water Pokémon ornately carved in the stone. It looked at first like there might be some trouble when the valet refused on principle to take Willy’s beater, but the incident was smoothed over with a minimum of fuss. While the boys may have looked every inch the college kids playing dress-up, their female companions actually looked like they belonged at such an establishment.

They were quickly waved over to a table where the man from Silph was waiting for them. He rose to his feet when they approached, smiling broadly and extending a hand to each of them in turn as he introduced himself four times as, “Boris Aven”. Once the five of them were all seated, Aven quickly began pouring them wine. “Let me start off by saying how damn impressive it is, you kids doing what you’re doing.” His silver hair glinted under the restaurant’s lighting, but his smile outshone it. “When I was your ages, I was working for in my old man’s shop and getting plastered on the weekends. But that was then, and this is now,” finished Aven as he distributed the drinks.

Willy had bristled a little at being labeled a “kid”, but with the help of his ill-fitting sports coat, he hid the tension well. He managed to match Aven’s smile and commented breezily, “And who knows what tomorrow will look like.”

The middle-aged man embraced what Willy was getting at knowingly and willingly. “That’s right, but it sounds like you four at least have an idea! So, let’s hear it! You were very coy about specifics in your letter, but there was enough to get me interested. Something having to do with the new Pokémon Silph created, right?”

While Aven waited for them, the girls and Willy looked at Celio. He wilted a little under their gaze, but they did not relent until he cleared his throat and said, “Um, yes. You see, the, uh, Porygon that Silph created really, uh, got us thinking about the, the other potential uses that it represented. The digital Pokémon you guys engineered is not a singular event, but the, uh, the start of a whole new branch of, uh, science with the, with the potential to touch every single life on the planet.”

Aven nodded, but did not look surprised or, for that matter, particularly impressed. He topped off his wine and called over the waiter. The five of them ordered, with some of them guessing more than others about what exactly they were selecting based on the fancy titles of the dishes. When the server had left, the Silph representative resumed his position of rapt attention.

“We can digitize any Pokémon,” Willy said simply and then leaned back in his chair proudly.

Quickly, Celio tried to do some damage control, saying, “Well, we don’t know about any Pokémon, we still-”

“Any species, any individual,” said Willy with a cocky smile.

But Aven was not paying attention to him. His eyes were on Celio and some of the patronizing attitude in his posture had evaporated. “Interesting,” he said softly. “Very interesting.” He swished his wine around the glass idly and said, almost off-handedly, “Naturally, Silph has had a team working on this ourselves, but they assured us that we were still years away from being able to reverse the process with live subjects. If it was possible at all, they said.”

“The theory is incredibly sound,” Lanette piped up. “I can show you the notebooks of calculations that we made before we even built the machine.”

“You already have a functioning prototype too?”

Now it was Brigette’s turn to contribute. “Yes. I had to teach myself some engineering first, and it certainly won’t be winning any beauty contests, but it exists and it works.” She turned to her sister and the two of them had a short silent conversation.

Lanette reached into her purse and pulled out a CD-ROM inside of a plastic case that was cryptically labeled “diGriz” in black marker. She gave one last look at Brigette, but at her sister’s nod offered the disc to Aven. “You should find three different Rattata in perfect condition on there. You can take that to your researchers and have them run whatever tests they want on them to see that they’re legitimate.”

The man took the gift reverently and studied it in his hands as he asked, “What’s stopping Silph from using this information to simply duplicate your efforts?” When the others started to get visibly upset, he held up a hand and said, “Now, kids, I’m just trying to walk you through the worst-case scenario here. After all, you achieved this breakthrough while students, probably on university property too. To the best of my knowledge, you haven’t applied for a patent or taken any other precautions to prevent your work from being stolen. What’s your response to that?”

Willy smile showed a wealth of teeth as he countered, “Because you are only holding the beta, the rough first draft of what we’re going to do. Believe me, Boris, you have no idea where we are going to take this thing. Would you rather steal a thousand bucks or split a billion?”

Aven’s booming laugh echoed loudly in the posh restaurant. “You’ve got brass, kid, I’ll admit that! Alright, I’ll have my people look over what you’ve given me tonight, no games. If everything checks out, you will all have very generous positions waiting for you at Silph after you graduate in a few weeks.”

“Thank you so much,” Celio sputtered, “of course, we’d-”

“Food’s here!” Brigette chirped before Celio could finish.

Six years ago…

“We should have taken those jobs,” moaned Celio as he tore open another letter from the bank. “Imagine, we could be making six figures and have dental insurance.”

“Go give your friend Boris a call then!” snapped Willy as he ripped the notice out of the other man’s hand. “You knew what the risks were, we all did, when we decided to go it alone!”

Celio snatched the piece of paper back. “Some of us are taking a bigger risk than others! I don’t have a trust fund like you three; I don’t think there’s a millionaire in the entire Sevii Islands! So excuse me for being more concerned that this boat is sinking, and we have nothing to show for it!”

The makeshift office grew deadly quiet after that outburst, silent save for the hum of the jerry-rigged machinery and the spinning ceiling fan. Then, very, very carefully, Lanette made a suggestion: “Let us buy you out.”

“What?” said every other person in the room simultaneously, albeit at different volumes.

“How much would it take, Celio?” continued Lanette. “How much do you value your contributions to the work that we’ve done? How much money do you need to justify bailing out on it?” When he did not produce an answer, not even a stuttering one, she said, “Then shut the f*** up,” and then went back to the work she had been distracted from.

After a few minutes, Willy grabbed Celio’s arm and led him into the hallway outside of the room. His tone was surprisingly tender as he asked, “Look, man, do you really want out of this? Some part of me doesn’t blame you; we’ve been at each other’s throats for weeks now with nothing to show for it.” He sighed and laced his fingers behind his head. “I don’t know, maybe you were right; maybe we should have sold out when there was something to sell out.”

“It’s not too late,” said Celio softly, almost at a whisper. “Silph has already begun working on a beta for a universal Pokémon storage and retrieval network, just using what Lanette gave Boris at our first meeting. There’s not going to be a prize for second place if they get it operating before we have a marketable product. The network effects alone mean that whoever is first on the scene is going to have a monopoly for the foreseeable future. We could help Silph, get a place in the history books.”

“Only as a footnote,” grumbled Willy. Then he turned on Celio. “What do you mean by ‘our first meeting with Boris’?”

Five years ago…

“It’s been a real pleasure working with you, Bill,” said Yuri Lebed, the Minister of Internal Affairs. “I am confident that this is going to be a game-changer.” The paunchy former army officer puffed up his chest proudly underneath his crisp suit. “The whole general staff have been abuzz with the kind of advantages that your technology is going to give us over-”

Willy held up a hand to stop him. “I’m sorry, Minister, but there is not going to be any advantage for the Union. My colleagues are having parallel meetings with your opposite numbers in Hoenn and Sinnoh as we speak. Our technology is not going to be a secret weapon or even a tool just for the state; it will belong to the people.”

“The people?” Lebed sputtered. “What is the meaning of this, young man? You would give away valuable military technology to potential threats? Are you that naďve?”

“I’m not naďve, Minister, and I am not giving anything away. Their offer is the same that I extended to you, and will hopefully offer to other countries: full incorporation of our storage and transport system into the existing Pokémon Center infrastructure and university and research system.”

Lebed’s face was red, but his tone was still professional as he countered, “And why should we agree to that, especially when Silph tells me that they have their own version of your network that would be for us and us alone?”

“In the short run, you’ll have more control if you go with Silph’s version,” explained Willy patiently, “that’s true. But in the long run, a closed system is going to leave you woefully outmatched compared to the capabilities that your potential opponents would enjoy. Our transfers don’t know the difference between a computer in Sinnoh and one in, say, Unova.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” growled Lebed.

But Willy just shrugged and said, “Only as a hypothetical. Pursuing a national system would only leave you behind, militarily and economically.” The other man did not say anything, so Willy moved to leave. But before he walked out of the meeting, he said, “The offer still stands, Minister. Don’t let the future pass you by, or you’ll have to work twice as hard to catch up.”

The door closed behind him without any interference.

Present day…

It had been a surprisingly productive day. The presence of the two women seemed to put both the initial plaintiff and the defendant on their best behavior, although it seemed to be stemming more from apprehension rather than any genuine desire to impress the pair of sisters. When they broke for lunch, it had seemed like there was actually a light at the end of the tunnel for the lawyers when for so long any such hope had seemed downright foolish. In such an optimistic mood, the attorneys did not even bother to check that their respective clients were following them when they left the room. The thought did not occur to them until they had already reached the boutique sandwich shop across the street.

That meant that the four people most responsible for the Pokémon transfer and storage system that was now in use worldwide were left alone with one another. Absent the moderating influence of their legal counsels, there was a chance for honesty, to settle their differences like human beings. Of course, absent any referees meant that there would be little to mitigate the blows if things turned ugly.

Perhaps it was with that contingency in mind that Lanette took it upon herself to be the first to speak. “You look good, Celio,” she said primly. “How are things going at Silph?”

Celio couldn’t suppress the bitter laugh that burst forth. “They’re pulling the plug on my project. Said that the way that the winds are blowing in the international market means that there’s no longer any point in trying to compete. After all these years, you guys won.”

“When were you going to bring this up? Before or after you made me put you in the poorhouse?” asked Willy, but even the edge in his voice seemed unusually put-upon.

“I just found out a few weeks ago,” Celio answered with a heavy sigh. “We’ve still got a month, I think, to tie up the loose ends, but then it’s over. I’ll be back on the street, looking for work.”

Brigette looked at her sister and then worked to catch Willy’s eye. “You made a good effort of it though. No one else even came close to getting a competing system up and running; just you and Silph.”

“You might be right, but it’s such an imperfect copy,” Willy said breezily. “There’s almost none of the UI improvements that you worked on, Lanette, and its ability to connect with the international network is going to be a nightmare because any wrong move could delete the Pokémon that are already stored on the Silph system. It could take years to get it fully integrated. Hell, it’d almost be better if you were starting from scratch.”

“Bill,” said Brigette firmly.

Celio’s head had sunk lower and lower as his former roommate had talked. “I know, I know,” he said, exhaustion hanging on every word. “But that means that you’ll need help, right? I could join you guys, help with the Tohjo expansion project.” When there was no answer immediately, or for a painfully long while after he had finished, Celio reiterated, “Well, what do you think? Could I be back on the team?”

Brigette said, “Celio, it’s-” But her sister cut her off before she could finish.

“The final decision for this region is Bill’s.” From her body language, it was clear how Lanette would have decided the issue.

“Let’s get lunch,” was all Willy had to say and he got up from his chair. Begrudgingly, the others followed suit. But despite being the first one on his feet, Willy was the last one out the door. He lingered behind, letting Lanette and Brigette reach the elevators before he said, “Hey, Celio,” to the dejected man a few paces ahead of him.

The two women noted that Willy and Celio were talking, but then the elevator doors closed on their concerned expressions and they were gone.

“Like I said in there,” he started, “it’s going to be a mess getting Kanto and the rest of the Union hooked up to the global system we already built.” From Celio’s frown, it was obvious that he was not understanding what the point of this talk was and he began to walk away, so Willy made his pitch, “I really need someone to handle the Sevii Islands. I can put you in charge; you’ll be close to your family and get a nice steady paycheck.”

“And if I refuse? What if I try to take this all the way to court?”

“Then you will lose. I’m not stupid; I know that this whole time your legal strategy has been to try and find out everything you can to paint me as the bad guy, so that a jury will sympathize with you. It would have worked; I know that I am not the nicest guy, but with Lanette and Brigette on my side… Let’s just say that they’d add a lot more weight to my side of the story.”

Celio grimaced. “Your side of the story? So, then, you know?”

“Know what?”

“Don’t play dumb. That I wouldn’t ask for any money from the jury. I’m just asking to be recognized.”

“You aren’t going to get any credit for what we’ve done. No name on the door, no plaque on the wall.” said Willy sadly. “You bailed out before we made it big.”

Celio wouldn’t make eye contact as he said, “All I’m going to be is a footnote.”

“Take the job.” Willy smiled tentatively and added, “It’s good work, Celio, don’t knock it.” Then he walked away, caught an elevator, and left.

Last year, the billionth Pokémon was deposited into the storage system.

Every major country with a functioning Pokémon League is connected through the internationally-chartered Global Trade System.

Last summer, four trainers were disqualified from competitions in Sinnoh for having Pokémon whose characteristics were illegally modified through manipulation of their digitized forms. There is concern that the loose testing regimen that is currently employed will have to be strengthened. The number of altered Pokémon active on the tournament and contest circuits have been estimated to number in as high as the tens of thousands.

According to the company website, Willy and Lanette are listed as the primary developers of the storage system, with Brigette receiving notice for her considerable contributions as well. As of publication, Celio’s name is found only in the staff directory.