"You're saying you want Celadon City?"
In an elegant office, Vance and the others sat talking with Bloodhand.
"Yes. Celadon City is where I'd like to go."
Vance nodded and said it firmly.
As top recruit he had his choice of city, and Vance had chosen Celadon. It counted as his home town, and there were a few matters there he needed to deal with.
"Fine. And you two?"
Bloodhand nodded and looked at Cerise and Nolan.
"Saffron City for me."
said Cerise.
"Vermilion City for me."
Nolan followed.
"Very well."
Bloodhand opened the computer on his desk and worked at it for a while.
"Done. You're registered. Report to your branches within the next fortnight."
"Thank you, Chief Instructor." ×3
The three of them said it together.
"No need."
After a few more words the four of them left the office.
"I'll take my leave of you both here. I hope we have the chance to work together in future."
Nolan said it with impeccable manners and perfect composure.
"Until next time."
Vance answered politely, looking at the young man with the well-bred face.
"Mm. Until next time."
Nolan answered him and left briskly.
"You've been hiding a great deal, Vance. Scoring higher than me, of all things."
Cerise said it with a smile, a searching look in her eyes.
"Luck, mostly."
Vance said with a small laugh.
"Then forgive me for asking — has your Magikarp evolved?"
Vance smiled, and did not answer.
"Oh. I see. Well, I'm off to report in at Saffron. Come and look me up if you have the time. Bye."
"Bye."
Vance walked quietly out along the corridor. He had sensed someone watching him.
*It's him.*
Vance swept the spot discreetly with his psychic power and got a look at the watcher's face.
The man was called Farrow, another member of the instructor corps.
Vance's expression did not change. He filed the man away privately and walked on down the corridor, unhurried.
*Does he have something to do with Wilder's death?*
Once Vance had gone, Farrow stepped out of the shadows with a Banette at his side.
It was with the help of this Advanced-strength Banette that he had stayed hidden while he watched.
*Never mind. I'll put my list of suspects together and let Grady do the worrying himself.*
Vance came to a single dormitory room, opened the door and went in.
The room was not large, thirty-odd square metres, a conventional one-bedroom-and-sitting-room layout, fully furnished.
Vance sat down at the computer desk and opened the storage bracelet Bloodhand had given him earlier.
"An aptitude-alteration serum?"
He took out a bottle of glossy green liquid and read the instructions on it. These were aptitude-alteration serums.
Vance had heard of the stuff. It came out of Team Rocket's own secret research, the quantities were small and it was seldom seen; he had not expected to find a bottle of it here.
"For use on Gym-class aptitude and below. Of little effect on aptitude above Gym-class."
Reading the instructions, Vance felt a pang of regret. It looked as though he had no use for this. He would set it aside for now and could trade it later.
Aptitude-raising preparations could be exchanged for through the system in any case, which put his mind further at ease.
Besides the serum there were 500,000 Poké Dollars and two move-training manuals, one for Earthquake and one for Shadow Punch.
Vance put it all away. The reward for taking first place among the recruits was generous enough.
For people like them, who had not been Trainers long, rewards like these were extremely useful.
Only, with the system behind him, they meant less to Vance.
With everything stowed away, Vance opened the computer and, after a few operations, got into Team Rocket's intranet.
"Beep, beep, beep—"
He had barely logged on when several new messages prompted him to read them.
He opened one: a note from Team Rocket headquarters congratulating him on his Squad Leader post, setting out his authority and his entitlements.
A Team Rocket Squad Leader drew a base salary of 100,000 Poké Dollars a month, plus 500 contribution points, access to ten breeding texts at Intermediate level or below, and mission allowances.
A Squad Leader could form a squad of no more than ten people, led in turn by a Division Commander above him. There was one performance review a year; fail it twice and you were demoted to reserve cadre, and fail again after that and you went back to ordinary member. It kept cadres from coasting.
"The benefits aren't bad. Ten Intermediate texts — about right, I suppose."
Vance said it to himself. Intermediate strength was the entry standard for a Squad Leader.
Entry standard, because within Team Rocket a person of Intermediate strength was by no means guaranteed a squad.
There were a great many people in Team Rocket, and the competition among them was brutal — worst of all at headquarters, where it was fiercest by far.
He opened several of the others: messages from the Celadon City branch, with the address to report to and the name of the Division Commander above him.
Then came messages from Ambrose and Emery, and Vance pulled the pair of them into the squad group without much thought.
He opened the rest: members of this intake looking to attach themselves to him and join his squad.
Vance thought it over, found nobody among them worth his attention, and turned them all down.
"Boss, boss, are you there? Do you want to go and set up a stall?"
The message came through from Ambrose on the squad group.
"The price is lower if you hand it in to the organisation. You get a great deal more handling it yourself."
"You can also list it on the intranet."
Emery surfaced at the right moment.
"You two go. I'll pass."
Vance typed back.
"So where are we headed, boss?"
Ambrose asked.
"Celadon City. If the two of you would rather not, that's fine as well — I can put in a recommendation for you elsewhere."
"No, no. We'll stick with you, boss."
"Same here."
Emery replied after him.
"Then you two go on ahead. I have a few private matters to settle. I'll report to the branch once they're done."
"Understood."
After a few more lines Vance ended the conversation.
*A stall does sound rather good. Pity it's such a bother. Of what I'm carrying, only the Rhydon is hard to move; everything else is fine.*
The Rhydon was an Elite-class Pokémon, and producing it at a trading ground run by Team Rocket would be most unwise.
Vance meant to take it to Celadon City and dispose of it on the black market there.
As for the other Pokémon and the resources he had no use for, he would simply sell the lot to the organisation and save himself the bother.
Once he had decided, Vance sorted through his things, set aside what he did not need, and went out with it.
Ten minutes later he arrived at Team Rocket's logistics office, and in a small room there did business with one of the officials in charge.
"Congratulations, congratulations. Quite a haul — look at all this."
Jory said it in surprise, looking at the piles of supplies and Poké Balls.
"It's not bad. Value it up, would you. I have other things to attend to."
"Of course."
Jory set to work, checking everything over.
What Vance had produced came to seven Advanced Pokémon, forty-two Intermediate, thirty-two Novice, and a quantity of valuables.
"Right. Advanced Pokémon are worth 500,000 Poké Dollars each, or 500 contribution points each if you would rather have it that way. Intermediate are 200,000 each, and cannot be converted into contribution points. Novice are 100,000 each, and likewise cannot be converted."
"The supplies come to 800,000 Poké Dollars."
It did not take long for Jory to total it all up.
"That's a little low."
"It's not low. These are the organisation's standard rates." He produced a statement as he said it and passed it to Vance.
"Tell you what, though. If there's anything you need to buy today, I can give you a discount within my authority."
Jory added it with a smile, evidently in good spirits.
A post in logistics was a plum job. Whether things were being sold or bought, the man handling them took a cut, and the crucial part was that it generally carried no danger — no missions to run, no staking your life on anything.
"Ten portions each of Normal-type and Water-type energy cubes, high-grade quality. Five portions of Dark-type energy cubes......"
Vance reeled off the things he needed. None of it came cheap.
"Certainly. Now, as for these supplies......"
When he walked out of logistics, Vance's account was a million Poké Dollars and a thousand contribution points heavier. The rest had gone on supplies.
That was how it should be, though. Trainers make money fast, and spend it just as fast.
Raising Pokémon in particular is a bottomless pit; the higher you want a Pokémon's fighting power and the better you want it in every respect, the more money and resources you have to put into it.
All else being equal, a Pokémon living on air will never beat one that has been carefully raised.