Subject: Re: [PW!] Maiden's Peak, Revisited
Date: 23 Sep 2001 17:52:34 -0700
From: email@example.com (Adrian Tymes)
Rob wrote in message news:<3BAD1F45.DE647732@yahoo.com>...
> Xerox doesn't nod, but she doesn't shake her head either. Her face remains
> perfectly neutral as she says, "It is possible. Some Pokemon Neurologists have
> insisted that Pokemon consciousness is wholly determined by genes, chemicals,
> and electrical impulses in the brain. Perhaps I am a bit of a mystic, but I have
> faith that this reductionist view of Pokemon behavior is incorrect. I believe
> that Pokemon can overcome what they are genetically programmed to do.
> Unfortunately, in my own studies, I found some disturbing news that may imply
> that this is not the case. I found out that I was programmed to be loyal,
> obedient, and gain pleasure from being contained within a Pokeball, perhaps as a
> reaction to the problems that you, Big Brother, and my sister caused the
> scientists, and I cannot overcome this 'coding'."
> Mimic's own problems seem less important to himself when he notices how sad
> Xerox's voice became as she spoke about her findings. He puts his pseudopod on
> Xerox's shoulder and the two Ditto pull each other close together in a hug.
> Mimic says, "Xerox please look for cure in Mimic's mind. Mimic count on
"Then let us begin."
Both pokemon stare at each other for several minutes.
"Well what? Mimic still waiting."
"Umm...how do we do this, again?"
"...err, Mimic no quite certain either, come think of it. Mimic try open mind,
but...well...not sure...maybe if Mimic inside Xerox?"
"You mean...oh, the poke ball you mentioned!" Xerox transforms into the
requested red and white sphere, then sucks Mimic inside.
And almost spits him out.
#Mimic? Can you hear me?#
#Mimic hear. This no feel like working.#
#Probably not. You're still 'tagged'. This form is trying to reject you.#
#Maybe one of Kurt's balls.#
#Mimic! Who is this Kurt, and why-#
#No mean like *that*. Like *this*.#
#Oh.# Xerox notes briefly that Mimic is sending an image of a love ball, but
quickly clamps down on that line of thought in favor of eliminating the
distinctly unpleasant want-to-vomit sensations her current body is giving her.
Almost on instinct, Xerox shifts her body into a temporary less-corporeal form
to facilitate the change to its new shape. She only gives this shift conscious
attention when the shift back does not automatically engage. Curious, she
closely examines the sensations currently felt, including the bridge to some
other energy within-
"Mimic?" Xerox notes that she is somehow back in her kimono, though her hands
seem more like ditto-colored groups of five tendrils than proper
melanin-and-blood-colored human hands. Reasoning that she had an incomplete
transformation, she tries to finish it, but nothing happens.
Something passes by, ruffling her hair as it almost clips her right ear. The
blur of motion goes straight along the indistinct, foggy ground, then pulls up
sharply, taking Xerox's attention with it...
Arranged above her is a cloud of bright points, orbiting around each other at
breakneck speeds like celestial mechanics gone mad. Constellation lines fade
into existence as certain points draw into formation, then snap away just as
quickly when one star suddenly dashes out of position. Some points seem to
explode in great balls of fire that never quite reach their neighbors, while
other points just wink into existence almost at random. Near the center, a line
of blackness - only visible since it obscures any light passing behind it -
swallows up points that venture too near...just as other points, which Xerox can
feel are the same though she knows not how, stream in from the "edges" of this
otherwise uncontained space.
Ghostlike, Xerox wills herself up into this sea of madness, ignoring the points
floating through her until she comes across one point of light that keeps
orbiting the dark but never quite goes in. Curious, she reaches out to touch
-and jerks back, curling up into a ball before realizing her own "body" is in no
danger. Taking a closer look, she can see that the star is actually several
parts: a tightly grouped cluster of normal ones, and an obviously artificial
orbiter that seems to be shepherding them like a sadistic wolf. She reaches
around the guard star and towards one of the flock...
"Does he have any friends? Any family?"
"It seems he was quite close to some of the other research subjects, including
that one that took out several of our agents. And...one in particular seemed
to pay quite a lot of attention to him."
"Did he return the feelings?"
"We haven't gotten that far yet, sir. We've just been recording facts from his
subconscious; haven't had time to analyze for emotional linkages."
"Strange: it'd seem that emotional linkages would be how you find these memories
to begin with."
"Well...ah...ok, we haven't really been digging at all. Just matching up our
mole's reports with facts in his memories."
"No matter, we have to test the memory blocks somewhere. Why don't you begin
with any memories of his closest companions. Except...no, leave any memories
he has of this 'Doppler'. We may make another grab for him, and if so, it'd be
good if they two can work as a team."
"Right. Blocking memories of 'Famifax', also known as 'Xerox'."
"I thought they were two separate pokemon."
"I'm sure the separation is complete by now, if that's what you mean."
Xerox jerks back again as the guard star, having crept up on her, moves to block
her connection. It hovers warily in place, as if aware of an interloper but not
yet able to see it. Nearby, other similar specks, apparently alerted, swivel
towards her and begin to converge.