Chapter 37: Windworks
I heard it before I saw it.
A deep rolling boom through the trees ahead. Then another. Then shouting, not one voice, not two, just a wall of noise layered on top of itself, the kind that doesn't have edges anymore because there's too much of it happening at once.
Rhyhorn stopped. Ears forward, body low, a rumble building in her chest that I felt through the ground before I heard it.
"Yeah," I said. "I hear it too. Come on back."
She looked at me. Not scared. Rhyhorn doesn't really do scared. But alert in the way she gets when she's decided something ahead needs to be taken seriously. I recalled her and started running.
The road curved through thin forest and then the trees opened up and I stopped.
The Valley Windworks was sitting in a shallow basin ahead of me. Big. Bigger than I'd expected, which was stupid because I'd been picturing six rooms and a hallway and a commander standing at the end waiting for me specifically, and this was an industrial complex. Concrete walls. Flat roofs. Massive turbines rising behind the building with their blades still turning in the wind like nothing was wrong, like they hadn't noticed that the ground in front of the main entrance was a warzone.
Because it was. A full, actual warzone.
Pokémon attacks cutting across the air. People in ranger uniforms. People in tactical gear. Grey-and-white Galactic suits scattered between them. Forty people out there, maybe fifty. I couldn't count properly because things kept moving and exploding and a Luxray was tearing across the field trailing electricity and something huge and rocky slammed into a barrier of light near the front doors and the sound of it just didn't stop.
I stood at the treeline and my brain did the thing. The thing where the version I remembered from a screen tried to overlay itself on top of what was actually in front of me and the two images didn't line up at all, not even close, and for a second I couldn't move because the gap between them was just too big.
This wasn't a game. This was a military operation.
I started walking again. Not running. Walking, because running into this felt wrong and standing still felt worse and walking was the thing in between.
"Kid!"
I turned. A man jogging toward me from the left. Tall, mid-thirties, ranger jacket with the sleeves pushed up. He had an Arcanine beside him that had clearly already been working today. Scorch marks across its fur, a cut on its front leg wrapped in something quick and temporary. But the man himself looked calm. Not tense, not panicked. Managing. Like this was a long day and he was in the middle of it and that was fine.
"You can't be here. Area's locked down."
I pulled out my Pokédex and held it up. "Registered trainer. Professor Rowan's sponsorship."
He took it. Looked at the screen. Something moved behind his eyes, not surprise exactly, more like a piece of information landing somewhere he hadn't expected it. He looked at me again.
He handed it back. "I'm Nolan. I've got the eastern perimeter." He tilted his head. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
He looked at me for a second. Then back at the Windworks. Then back at me, and I could see him doing the math on whether arguing with a fifteen-year-old Rowan-sponsored trainer was worth the time he didn't have.
"Alright. Here's where we are. Galactic's had this building almost a week. They've dug in, they've fortified, and we've been pushing since dawn. It's working but it's slow. Their commanders are getting pulled to the front because that's where the pressure is, which means the sides are thinning out." He pointed east. "Grunts keep trying to break out through the side exits. Running, flanking, whatever. I don't have enough people on it. You want to help, you hold the east side. Catch what comes out."
"Okay."
"And you do not go inside that building." He said it straight, not angry, not lecturing, just a fact he was putting between us. "We clear?"
"Clear."
He looked at me one more time. His Arcanine rumbled and he put a hand on its head without looking at it, the way you did with a Pokémon you'd had for years. Then he turned and jogged back toward his position.
I walked east.
---
The first grunt came out a side door about five minutes later. He had a Zubat and a Stunky and a look on his face like he thought the coast was clear.
I already had Prinplup out. She'd been standing beside me watching the door with her flippers behind her back and that posture she did when she was ready for something but wanted you to know she wasn't impressed by it yet.
"Prinplup, Zubat first. Don't let it get height."
"*Pluup.*" She was already moving. BubbleBeam caught the Zubat before it made it three meters off the ground. It hit the concrete and didn't get back up. The Stunky tried to spray something and Prinplup hit it with Metal Claw so fast I barely saw the transition. One hit. Done.
The grunt stood there with two empty balls and a face that had stopped processing.
"*Pluup.*" Prinplup straightened up. Chest out. She looked at me like I should be taking notes.
"Yeah yeah, you're incredible, I know." I couldn't help it. She was. "You good?"
"*Plup plup.*" Obviously good. Was that even a question.
The grunt recalled his Pokémon and ran back inside. Didn't close the door behind him.
Two more came out ten minutes later. Side by side, which meant they'd had a conversation in there about what happened to the first guy and decided that numbers would fix it.
I sent out Rhyhorn.
"*Rhy?*" She looked at the two grunts. Looked at their Pokémon, a Glameow and a Dustox. Looked at me with an expression that already had an opinion about this.
"I know, I know. This'll be fast. Prinplup, take the Dustox. Rhyhorn, the Glameow's yours, just don't"
The Glameow used Fury Swipes on Rhyhorn.
I watched a cat try to scratch a Pokémon made of rock. The claws bounced off her hide and the Glameow stumbled back and Rhyhorn turned her head slowly, very slowly, and looked down at it.
"don't overdo it," I finished, too late.
"Horn Attack, Rhyhorn. Gently."
She did not do it gently. The Glameow went airborne. It was fine, probably, but it was very much not gentle.
Prinplup had already handled the Dustox. Two BubbleBeams. She was examining her feathers when I looked over, like the whole thing had been an interruption in her morning rather than an event.
Both grunts bolted. One tripped on a cable. The other left him.
"*Rhy rhy.*" Rhyhorn rumbled, pleased with herself.
"I said gently."
"*Rhy.*" She didn't even look at me. Zero regrets.
I scratched behind her ear because I couldn't be annoyed at her when she was this calm about everything. "You two are ridiculous. You know that, right? Both of you. Completely ridiculous."
"*Pluup.*" Thank you.
"That wasn't a compliment."
"*Plup.*" Yes it was.
I looked at the side door.
Still open. The second pair hadn't closed it either, and through it I could see a corridor. Fluorescent lights, half of them dead. Tile floor. Empty.
I looked back toward the front of the building. The assault was louder now. A Hyper Beam tore through the air, I felt it in my jaw, that deep hum that isn't really a sound, more like the air remembering it got torn apart. The league was pushing hard. Everything Galactic had was going to the front.
Which meant inside was empty. Or close to it.
Nolan had told me not to go in. Clear and straight and not unfriendly about it, which almost made it worse, because I respected the guy and I was about to ignore him completely.
I recalled Rhyhorn and Prinplup.
Looked at the open door.
"Sorry, Nolan," I said. Meant it, actually.
Walked inside.
---
The corridor smelled like burnt wiring and something chemical I didn't have a name for. The fluorescent lights that were still working buzzed and stuttered and made my shadow do things I didn't like. My footsteps echoed on the tile and I was suddenly very aware of how loud a person is when there's nothing else making noise.
Outside, muffled through concrete walls, the battle kept going. In here it was quiet. Wrong-quiet, the kind where your body knows the silence isn't natural and keeps waiting for it to break.
I had Prinplup's ball in my right hand. Rhyhorn's in my left. Ready.
The east corridor was long. Doors on both sides, most closed, a few hanging open. Offices. Desks overturned, papers everywhere, a computer monitor on the floor with its screen cracked through. Someone had gone through these rooms, looking for something or just making a point, I couldn't tell which.
I checked each open door as I passed. Nothing. Nothing. Glass on the floor from a smashed window. Nothing.
Then voices. Ahead, to the left. Muffled but close.
"air circulation's been off since yesterday, we can't just"
"Commander said hold. So we hold."
Two. Around the corner.
I sent out Prinplup. She materialized and looked around at the corridor and the dead lights and the general state of everything and her expression said a lot about her opinion of the interior design.
"*Pluup?*"
"Two people around the corner," I whispered. "Guarding a door. We go fast, okay? Hit whatever Pokémon they have before they can set up. I trust you on this."
She looked at me. Nodded once. Set her stance.
I took a breath. Rounded the corner.
Two grunts. Heavy industrial door behind them. One had a Bronzor floating beside him. The other was already reaching for his belt.
"Prinplup, BubbleBeam, the Bronzor, NOW!"
She fired. The Bronzor took it full center and spun into the wall with a metallic sound that rang through the whole corridor. The second grunt fumbled his ball and it hit the floor and rolled.
"Metal Claw, finish it!"
Prinplup closed the distance in three steps. The Bronzor hit the floor and stayed there. The grunt who'd dropped his ball was on his knees reaching for it.
"Don't." I said it firm but not threatening. He was maybe nineteen. He looked terrified. "Just don't. Sit against the wall and stay there."
He looked at Prinplup. Prinplup looked at him.
He sat against the wall.
I stepped past them to the heavy door. Keypad lock, but the panel was busted open, someone had forced it at some point and jammed it back shut. Through the gap I could feel warm air and hear breathing.
"Hey!" I called through the gap. "Can anyone hear me?"
Silence. Movement. Then a woman's voice, rough and careful: "Who is that? Are you Galactic?"
"No. I'm a trainer. The league is outside right now, they're fighting at the main entrance. I'm getting you out."
A sound from behind the door, someone crying, short and sharp, the kind that came from hearing something you'd stopped expecting to hear.
I looked at the bolt. Heavy, industrial. But a bolt is a bolt.
I sent out Rhyhorn.
She materialized and took in the whole corridor in about two seconds, the grunts against the wall, me, the door. Her eyes settled on the bolt.
"*Rhy.*"
"Yeah. That bolt. Can you break it?"
She looked at it. Lined up.
First hit, the metal groaned and the frame shook and dust came down from the ceiling. Second hit, the bolt snapped and the door swung inward and I stepped back because the air that came out was hot and stale and smelled like too many people in too small a space for too long.
Fifteen people. Maybe more. Workers, engineers, technicians, the people who actually ran this place. Some squinting against the corridor light with the look of people who'd been in the dark long enough to forget what fluorescent lighting felt like. A few had bandages made from torn clothing. One woman near the back was sitting against the wall holding her arm at an angle that meant something was wrong with it.
The woman who'd called out pushed to the front. Fifties, short grey hair, a cut above her eye that had dried into a dark line. She looked at me and then past me and then at me again.
"How many of you are there?"
"Just me." It sounded ridiculous even to me. "The league's at the main entrance. You need to go east down this corridor, out the side door, there's rangers outside. They'll take care of you."
She stared at me. "You're a kid."
"I know." I didn't know what else to say to that. She was right. I was a kid standing in a half-destroyed corridor telling people I'd just broken out of a locked room to run toward a battle. None of it made sense and all of it was happening.
"Go east. Stay together. If anyone can't walk, help them."
They started filing out. Some supporting others. A man carrying someone on his back. It was slow and quiet in a way I hadn't expected, not dramatic, just people who'd been locked in a room for days walking out and trying to remember how to move with purpose. A few said thank you as they passed. Most didn't say anything. I didn't need them to.
The woman with the cut stopped next to me.
"Thank you," she said. Simple. Heavy.
"Go. East corridor, side door."
She went.
I stood there for a few seconds after the last of them had gone. The corridor was empty now. The grunts had disappeared too, run off when nobody was watching. Good. Less to deal with.
I recalled Rhyhorn. "Good job," I told her ball. "Really good job."
Kept moving.
---
The generator room was at the back. Right where I'd known it would be.
Massive. Three turbine generators along the far wall, humming with something I felt in my chest more than heard. Cables and conduits running up through the ceiling, feeding into the grid, or they should have been feeding into the grid. Instead they were running into Galactic's equipment: heavy devices bolted onto the generators, thick cables feeding a console in the center, screens showing data I couldn't read from the door but didn't need to.
Whatever they were siphoning, it was big. A week of this.
One grunt in the room. Young. Sitting at the console with the energy of someone who'd been told to watch screens and had been watching screens for a very long time. He didn't notice me until Prinplup announced us.
"*Pluup.*"
He spun. Saw me. Saw Prinplup. Hands up, chair rolling backward.
"I'm just, I was only monitoring the"
"Get out. Go east, down the corridor, out the side door. Don't come back."
He left. Nearly tripped on his own chair doing it.
I walked to the console. Energy readings, transfer rates, output numbers. I didn't understand half of it but I understood enough, this wasn't some local thing. This was industrial. This had been running for almost a week and nobody had stopped it.
I couldn't hack the console. Wasn't going to pretend otherwise. But you don't need to understand a system to break it.
"Prinplup. See all those cables connecting the devices to the generators?"
She followed my gaze. Looked at the setup. Looked back at me.
"BubbleBeam. Every connection. Fry them."
She grinned. Actually grinned, the way she did when I gave her something she'd been wanting to do.
The first BubbleBeam hit the left cluster. Water and electricity, the connection shorted in a shower of sparks and the left screen went dark. She was already moving to the next one.
I sent out Rhyhorn. "The devices bolted to the generators. Smack Down. Break them."
"*Rhy.*" She didn't need to be told twice. The first rock hit the central device and it crumpled inward with a screech that hurt my ears. More sparks. Another screen dead.
We worked through the room. Prinplup took the cables, each BubbleBeam exactly where it needed to be. Rhyhorn took the hardware, one device at a time, each Smack Down landing clean. I directed them, that cluster, that box, that connection, but honestly they were ahead of me half the time. They knew what we were doing. They were good at it.
Four minutes. Maybe five. Every screen dark. The hum from Galactic's equipment was gone. The generators still ran, you'd need something a lot bigger than us to stop those, but they weren't feeding the machines anymore. Whatever Galactic had been extracting, it was done.
I stood in the middle of the wrecked room and breathed. My hands were shaking, which I noticed and decided to notice later.
"*Pluup.*" Prinplup was examining a singed feather with visible displeasure.
"You okay?"
"*Plup.*" She held up the feather. Looked at me. This was apparently my fault.
"That'll grow back."
"*Plup plup.*" It better.
Rhyhorn looked at the destroyed equipment with quiet satisfaction. She'd enjoyed that. Not in a violent way, in a job-done way. Rhyhorn liked completing things.
"You two were incredible in there," I said. Not casually. I meant it. "Seriously. The corridor, the door, this room, I couldn't have done any of it without you and I need you to know that. Both of you."
Prinplup looked at me for a second. Then she nodded, not her usual confident nod, something smaller and different.
"*Rhy rhy.*" Rhyhorn leaned her head into my hand.
"Yeah." I scratched between her ears. "Let's get out of here."
I recalled them both and headed back down the corridor. Empty now. The workers were gone, the grunts were gone, just me and flickering lights and the muffled sounds of fighting from outside getting thinner and more scattered. Winding down. Almost over.
I reached the side door. Late afternoon light came through it, warm and golden, and I stood there for a second just breathing real air after however long I'd been in there breathing recycled nothing.
Stepped outside.
And stopped.
Someone was waiting.
Not a grunt. Not the kind I'd been dealing with. This was different and I knew it immediately, the way you knew when something in front of you had shifted from manageable to serious. Tall. Built. A face that had nothing uncertain in it. He wore the Galactic uniform but darker, rank insignia on his shoulder, and he was standing fifteen feet from the door with a Pokéball already in his hand. Not reaching for it. Already holding it. Like he'd been standing there the whole time I was inside.
He looked at me. At the door behind me. Back at me.
"So you're the one."
Flat. Low. Not threatening on purpose, which was somehow worse than if it had been.
My hand went to my belt. Three balls. Prinplup. Rhyhorn. Deino.
Prinplup and Rhyhorn were tired. They'd been incredible in there but they'd been working hard and this man, whoever he was, didn't look like he had anything tired on his belt.
He tossed his ball up once. Caught it.
"Let's see what you've got, kid."