DVANDOM _____ ______ _____ _______ GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL part 1 of 4 [ ]__ [ ] [] [ ]__)) [ ] ` [ ]__ #97 - "So Cute, So Deadly!" [ ] [ ] [] [ ] \\ [ ] [ ] copyright 1999 Dave Van Domelen [_] [_]__[] [_] \\ [_]___/ [_]____ -------]==+ <*> +==[------- [cover shows a powered-down Shane Boxer walking through the tall grass on a sunny late spring morning. Behind him, an ominous ripple in the grass indicates something is following him....] Sometimes it's the little things that remind you that you're out of place. A traveler abroad might be taken aback by minor details like dinner cutlery or the way crosswalks are painted on the street. The big things... different languages, distinctive architecture, radically unfamiliar climate...these are what you expect when you travel. They don't really bother you, because they're supposed to be different. No, it's usually the small things that bring home the point that you're NOT home. Shane pondered this as he stood in the tall grass outside the manicured lawn surrounding the Dvandom Force HQ. Tall grass. Something he never really had back in his own time. Oh, there *was* tall grass, and plenty of it. The great plains of Ame.rec.a had been largely restored to pre-Colonial condition, with only a minimal and highly efficient use of land for food production. DeFacto V believed in orderly separation wherever possible...mankind was confined to cities and other structures of its own creation, while nature was freed from the direct impact of humanity. Shane had been in several of the wild places during his time as a rebel, since it was often easier to hide where no one was there to see (or so they thought, in their arrogance), but he had seen only jungles and deserts. The only grass he was used to was the neatly manicured species found in public parks and around government buildings. It was hard to believe that the two kinds of grass were nearly identical. He wiggled his toes in the heavy boots he wore. A bit uncomfortable, but preferable to the mass of insect bites he'd gotten the first time he'd come out to stand in the tall grass. It was at once an alien world, unlike anything from his youth, and also a comfortable bit of normality after the craziness of the past few days [see Dvandom Force #90-96 - Ed.]. He could think here, try to sort out all the stuff that had happened. Not just with Death Duck, but also that business with the Roster King that preceded it [World Tales Annual #2 - Ed.]. He'd been so caught up in all the dreamwars that he hadn't even had time to consider how much his outsider status was thrown in his face when Roster King practically took over the Looniverse just to take his revenge against Faq Boy. The very fact Shane wasn't really a part of the team had been his best weapon against that threat from an alt.reality. Was being an outsider really his best asset? Even on a team chock full of outsiders, like Kat or Macroman, he stood out. He didn't fit into the whole "theme" of the Looniverse, being more like the inhabitants of more "serious" realities. Nor did he really have any personal connections with the team...for all of his feelings for Anna, he couldn't manage to.... Shane sighed. The team needed his raw power, if nothing else. And he needed...somewhere to be, he supposed. Might as well not fit in here, where he knew everyone, than to somewhere else and not fit in with strangers. DeFacto V and his minions were completely destroyed, his personal mission was over and he was free to make a new life for himself. He just didn't know how to go about it. * * * * "...and he kept Squidman and Kid Pocky from breaking through the dream by slotting them into roles they were comfortable with, ones they wouldn't try to squirm out of right away," Anna explained to those seated at the breakfast table. "To a lesser extent with Shane and Macroman...and Sidewinder's own powers kept him out of things." "Again," Sidewinder sighed. "What about me and the VAXX?" Kat protested. "I sure as Hell(TM) wasn't comfortable as a little girl." "Well..." Anna started, casting a nervous glance at the VAXX, who was over in the corner building a model of the Eiffel Tower out of belgian waffles. "I think the VAXX was playing along. Remember, he's omniscient, just usually kept from doing anything with that knowledge by the fact it overwhelms him. But, deep down, he must have known that Death Duck had my best interests at heart. I don't really know why he cast you so against type, Kat, unless he was throwing me a clue." Al set his cereal bowl in the sink and turned back to the conversation. "Actually, Kat...can you think of any role you *would* be comfortable with? You're too conflicted, I think, to be trusted to stick to playing your part, no matter how well-chosen. So he made you a child, someone we'd ignore until it was too late." Kat frowned, but didn't argue the point. "And," Anna added, "you'll recall that when you did start to voice your concerns, it was the VAXX who misdirected you." "Miss Direction 1999," the VAXX happily added, then started humming a beauty pageant theme song. Al looked into Kat's eyes with some concern. She seemed to want to say something, but not at the cost of opening up and letting anyone know what was in her heart. "Is something wrong?" he asked, sitting across the table from her. She sighed. "Is it *so* hard for me to find any happiness or even contentment that someone who can make dreams come true doesn't even TRY to find a fantasy for me to live in? Or am I just not worth the bother?" Silence. No one really knew how to answer her...to be honest, most of those assembled were still getting over the shock of Kat opening up enough to *ask* the question. "Pico-CHU!" ZZZRT! "AAAAAAGH!" "What the--?!" Kat spat. "That sounded like Shane," Anna added. "The first part sure didn't," Macroman amended, running outside before anyone could blink. "Combat posture, everyone," Squidman ordered, pulling on his cowl and grabbing a utility belt from the coat rack next to the door to the backyard. * * * * They found Shane curled up on his side in the tall grass, shaking and in shock. No attackers could be found, but Macroman did a perimeter sweep just to be sure. "Something's not right here," Squidman commented as he and Kid Pocky helped Shane inside. The man could stumble along if supported, but seemed to be otherwise out of it. "He's too light." Kid Pocky paused and lifted Shane up a bit. "I think you're right. He's got all those bioimplants from the Century Pact in him, he should clock in at over 150 kilograms." "Unfortunately, this isn't the LNHQ...we don't have a lot of diagnostic scanners," Squidman noted. "Still, Doctor Elm is due to get here any minute now to check up on Kat's injuries, we can ask him to take a look at Shane too." The two laid Shane down on a bed in the HQ's infirmary...really just a guest bedroom with some first aid equipment and a few bits of Kirbytech designed to help with the more bizarre maladies that net.heroes tended to suffer from. Macroman entered the room, a gust of wind at his back. "Nothing larger than a football on the entire property. Maybe it was something really long distance?" Squidman nodded. "Say, Macroman...could you get that scanner you use to check out your nervous system implants?" In the blink of an eye, Macroman was back with the handheld device. "Why?" he asked, handing the scanner to Squidman. "Shane seems...light," Squidman replied, running the scanner over Shane's still-twitching form. "Uh oh." "I don't like the sound of that," Anna said as she walked in. "By the way, no nightmares around the area, I just finished checking. So...why uh oh?" "Shane's biomechanical implants are gone," Squidman replied. "Huh?" Macroman cocked an eyebrow. "Let me check that...yeah, you have the settings right...damn. You're right. Shane's back to being fully organic, no trace of any of the Pact modifications. At least the bits they replaced seem to be back, or he'd be in trouble." "I bet that's why he's in shock," Kid Pocky ventured. "He had to switch suddenly from bio-implants to regular nerves and other systems, and it was a nasty transition." "y-you g-g-got that right," Shane stammered weakly from the bed. "Take it easy," Squidman replied, putting a firm hand on Shane's shoulder and keeping him from trying to sit up. "You're in shock, don't try to sit up. Shane sighed a sigh that said, "I don't think I would've managed to sit up anyway," and sank back into the bed. "What happened to you?" Anna asked, genuine concern in her voice. Shane paused, trying to collect his thoughts. "I...I was just standing around and thinking...about stuff...when this little yellow thing jumped at me. I guess...I guess I tried to armor up, and it zapped me. Then I woke up here, feeling like someone set up a termite colony inside me." "How little?" Macroman asked, a look of apprehension crossing his features. "Fit in your hand," Shane replied, straining to get the words out. "Okay, okay," Squidman waved everyone back. "We're not going to help Shane by pushing him to the point of another collapse. I'll phone Doctor Elm and see if he's on his way already." "Already here," came a voice from the doorway. It was a middle-aged man in a lab coat, hair greying at the temples and adding to his moderately good looks a dash of maturity. "Ah, good," Squidman replied. "We have another wounded," he frowned under the cowl. "Kat told me before I sent her upstairs to get ready for her checkup," Doctor Elm nodded. "But she left out one detail...did you hear anything, ah, unusual before Mr. Boxer was attacked?" "Something shouted," Anna recalled. "I think it said 'picochu,'" Kid Pocky added. "I feared as much..." Doctor Elm shook his head. * * * * "They are called Hackemon," Doctor Elm told the assembled net.heroes. Kat was back in regular clothing, her bandages being reduced enough in size that she could stop going about in a robe. Shane was sitting up on his own, but still a little unsteady. The rest were in their net.hero costumes. "Or, at least, that is what I have taken to calling them," Elm admitted. "I started noticing them in the countryside of northern Illi.net and southern Wisconsi.net a short time ago, and have made a hobby of observing and cataloguing them. They seem to be a fusion of normal life forms and some kind of cybernetic technology...not bionic implants, but rather a complete fusion." "Fallout from early Pact experiments, I'd bet," Kid Pocky rapped the table with his fingers. "Makes sense they'd try things out on animals first." "The loose ends just don't go away, do they," Macroman shrugged in Squidman's direction. "For the most part, they seem to be no more dangerous than any other feral or wild animals," Doctor Elm continued. "Mr. Boxer must have startled the Picochu into attacking with its editing power. It simply edited his powers away." "How do I get them back?" Shane asked, sipping a Mr. Paprika to calm his nerves. "Catch the Picochu and make it undo the edit, I'd guess," Kat shrugged. "Break out the butterfly nets, guys." Doctor Elm shook his head. "It is not quite so simple. As far as I have been able to determine, the Picochu lacks an undo function." "So I'm hosed, is that it?" Shane sighed, sullenly staring at his drink. "Not necessarily," the doctor replied. "I have seen a very few Picochus undergo a sort of net.amorphosis and become Vichus. This more evolved form may be able to search its memory cache and restore the erased...ah, data. But you will need to find the Picochu and train it so that it will do what you ask of it." "Butterfly nets," Kat restated. "The Picochu would edit the nets away, I'd bet," Squidman interjected, and Doctor Elm nodded. "So, how *do* we catch the Picochu. And, more importantly, how do we avoid getting zapped by its editing power in the process?" Squidman ticked off points on his gloved fingers. "I'm fast enough I could just scoop it up before it has time to react," Macroman replied. Kid Pocky shook his head. "No...you're as vulnerable as Shane, with all those implants. Give it half a chance and you're in the same boat. Doctor Elm...I'm guessing you've figured out a way to catch these Hackemon, right?" "That is correct. Before going into medicine, I majored in Comic Book Science, and I was able to design these," he pulled a small red and grey pouch from one of the pockets of his lab coat. "I call it a Hackesack, and it can be used to capture wild Hackemon. Once he's gotten his strength back, Mr. Boxer would be the best choice to seek out the Picochu. Not only is he now less vulnerable to its attack, having suffered the worst of it, but also he needs to start bonding with it as soon as possible. That means capturing it himself." * * * * The late afternoon sun beat down on Shane as he stalked through the tall grass, Hackesack in hand. He felt utterly ludicrous. On the bright side, ludicrous was the way of the world in this era. Maybe he *was* starting to fit in a little. Too bad he'd just lost the one thing he brought to the team, his powers. Dr. Elm didn't know how long it would be until the Picochu evolved into a Vichu, even if Shane *could* find and catch it. Maybe it'd be best to say goodbye and head back out on the road. Looking up, Shane saw Sidewinder high in the air, playing aerial recon. Sidewinder was carrying a camera linked back to the control room, and Dr. Elm was observing from there. "Spot anything?" Shane asked over the headset he wore. "No...wait!" Sidewinder replied, suddenly catching sight of something. "There's a commotion off to your east, maybe a hundred meters. Near the creek, so watch your step." As quietly as he could, Shane rushed throught he tall grass in the indicated direction. In moments, he could see the grass waving in a way that was definitely not caused by the wind, and he heard sounds of a struggle. "Picochu!" came a pained wail. He was on the right track, unless the grounds were infested with Picochus. "Owaugh!" was the reply. It was a duck. Shane stopped dead in his tracks. Did Death Duck lie? Was this part of another plot to "test" Anna by tormenting her friends? "Guys, it's a duck!" he whispered urgently over the comlink. Dr. Elm broke in, "We have a good picture of it here. It's not a duck, it's a Psydock, and it's trying to drain the Picochu's memory! Time is of the essence, son!" "Can Psydocks hurt people?" Shane asked. "If you mean, do they have special powers you should be aware of, no," Dr. Elm replied. "They can give you a good lashing, but their main power is to drain the memory of other Hackemon, via their many docking ports." "Right," Shane nodded, bursting into the small clearing that the Hackemon fight had made in the grass. The Picochu squeaked in pain as it thrashed around at the end of one of the many port-tipped cables that replaced the ducklike creature's wings. "Owaugh!" quacked the Psydock indignantly. "Time to show you why elephants have flat feet," Shane sneered. "From stamping out flaming ducks!" Stomping on the Psydock, he grabbed the Picochu's tail and freed it from the docking port. "Pico," it replied weakly. "This'll keep you safe," Shane said, stuffing the Picochu into his Hackesack. It'd also keep him safe in case the Hackemon decided he was another attacker. By this point, the Psydock had recovered its flat footing and was advancing as menacingly as a goofy duck-based creature could manage. However, given Shane's recent experiences, that was pretty menacing. The Psydock lashed out with its ports, using them like a cat-o-nine- tails to scourge Shane. The first strike lashed across his thigh, ripping through his pants leg and the top layer of skin, leaving bloody welts along his leg. "Could I get a little help out here?" Shane yelled into the comlink. "Coming as fast as I can," Sidewinder replied. "Macroman can't come out, because the Psydock might be able to tap into his implants," he added by way of explanation. Shane caught the next lash of cables and grabbed onto them firmly. "Never mind," he snarled as he lifted the Psydock off the ground and started whirling the Hackemon around like an olympic hammer throw. Letting go, he was satisfied to see the Psydock disappear over the edge of the tall grass and land in the creek with a splash and the sound of electrical arcing. Apparently, "like water off a duck's back" didn't apply to the Psydock. The adrenaline surge started to fade, and Shane finally noticed the rather serious pain in his leg, nearly collapsing to the ground. Sidewinder arrived and caught him in time, however. "Got the Picochu?" Sidewinder asked. "Yeah. And I could use a lift back to the house," Shane nodded in the direction of his leg. "Sure thing." * * * * "It's WHAT?!" Shane demanded, almost getting up from the bed where his leg had been bandaged. "Corrupted," Dr. Elm sighed. "The Psydock's attack damaged the Picochu's memory. Enough is left that I can tell it is indeed the one carrying your powers in its cache, but not enough that those powers could be restored. Not by the potential Vichu, anyway." "That implies that there's a solution," Squidman noted, cutting off another angry outburst from Shane. "There might be," Dr. Elm nodded. "As you saw today, the Picochu is not the only variety of Hackemon. I have catalogued over a dozen distinct species, and suspect there may be as many as 150 if you count all the evolutionary permutations. It is possible that one or more species of Hackemon have the ability to undo the damage done by the Psydock. Were I to gain access to enough Hackemon, I might be able to use them to restore Shane's powers." "And you'd also be able to figure out what part they played in the Pact's overall plan," Squidman added grimly. "Hey," Macroman added brightly, putting a hand on Shane's shoulder. "And if that doesn't work out, you could always just use the Hackemon in a fight. Become a Hackemon Master or something. It wouldn't be the first time an LNHer radically changed his powers." "Shane Boxer, Hackemon Trainer...sounds like a sidekick," Shane snarled. "You and your Picochu need to rest," Dr. Elm said, as if he hadn't heard the previous exchange. "I'll be back in the morning to check on the bandages and see if you're interested in seeking out Hackemon with my help. Good day," he nodded, then picked up his bag and left. "Huh. A bit spacey," Macroman noted. "So," he turned back to Shane. "What're you gonna call it?" "Call what?" "The Picochu. It needs a name, in case you find another Picochu and need to tell the two apart," Doug smiled impishly. "It's not a pet," Shane spat back. "It's a remnant of DeFacto V's nanotechnology and it needs to be controlled or it and its kind could cause some serious damage." "Pico," sighed the Picochu, plaintively. The little yellow computer mouse with ears was plugged in to a low current power source that worked like an IV drip. It was as if it could sense the hostility in Shane's voice. "I'll...think about it," Shane relented, then lay back in bed as a signal that he wanted to rest. Macroman and Squidman left the room and shut the door on the two damaged victims of nanotechnology. The man and the mouse.... * * * * "So, where's everyone else?" Anna asked Kid Pocky at the dinner table as she set down her plate of stir-fried vegetables. It was too hot outside to want to think about anything more elaborate for dinner, even if the house was perfectly air conditioned. Al swallowed a microwaved french fry and replied, "Well, Kat's helping Doug work on shielding his systems so he doesn't have to worry about any wandering Picochus on the grounds. Squidman and Sidewinder are out working on the security system, same basic reason. No idea where the VAXX is, and Shane's resting, of course." He looked down at his plate. "Still not quite the same as deep-fried," he sighed. "Better for you," Anna smirked as she stabbed her fork into some beans and carrots. "I suppose," Al replied, dipping another into mayonnaise. "I can fix that, however." "Ew," was Anna's response, muttered around a mouthful of food. "Anna...mind if I ask you something personal?" Anna put down her fork and sighed. "Sure. It's certainly been a week for that sort of thing, might as well continue the trend." Al paused for a moment, then said, "You seem to have been avoiding Shane the past couple of days, since we had the final encounter with Death Duck. Is it safe to assume that in that dream you finally picked up on Shane's feelings for you?" Anna coughed. "It's a good thing I stopped eating before you asked," she added, clearing her throat. "Well?" There was a long silence. Then, "Yes." "And you don't reciprocate." A flat statement, it dropped on the table like a dead fish. "Actually..." Anna paused, staring into her plate. "I do. He's a nice guy, good looking..." "But," Al interrupted. "But," she nodded. "He's not really looking for just a relationship. He wants an anchor. He's flailing about trying to find something or someone he can latch onto so he doesn't feel so lost, so out of place and out of time. I knew a lot of lost souls like that back when I was on the Vegas circuit, and I don't think I can give him what he needs. I don't think *anyone* can. He has to find it for himself, or he'll smother anyone who lets him cling to her. I try to be a good friend, but right now I don't think he wants me around in that way...so I avoid him." She paused and took another bite of her dinner, chewing thoughtfully. Finally, she added, "Sometimes I think we'd have it easier if our writer was seeing someone." Al considered this, then shook his head. "I doubt it. Happy relationships make for boring stories, and most writers know that. I think the best we can hope for is momentary happiness while the writer's attention is focused on making someone else's life miserable." "Says the man chasing Kat," Anna smirked. "I don't think even an omnipotent writer could make *that* relationship any more unlikely." Al shrugged and went back to eating his dinner. * * * * Shane finished packing his meager possessions. He'd lived the life of a trucker after arriving in this time, then that of a net.hero. He really hadn't had the time or inclination to accumulate a lot of stuff. All part of not making a connection to anything, he supposed. "So, you're leaving," Squidman said from the doorway. Shane turned around. "Yeah, I've had the last week to think about it. Without my powers, I'm no good to you on the team...it's not like I have your training or skills," he added, recalling who he was talking to. "And if nothing else, I can try to figure out the story behind these Hackemon. Tie off another of those loose ends for ya." "Are you sure you want to do this alone?" Shane nodded emphatically. "Definitely. Come on, how dangerous could it be? And Kat's lending me her .50 cal pistols in case I run into anything bigger than a breadbox. Between them and the doc's Hackesacks, I should be able to handle myself." "What will you do for transportation?" "I figured I'd rent something once I get into town. Dr. Elm can give me a ride that far, he has to take me back to his place to set me up with Hackesacks anyway." Squidman shook his head. "Take ATV Frank. You'll need a something with off-road abilities, and he could be backup in a pinch." "But Frank's such a whiner!" Shane protested. "That's why Zwarghoff left him behind!" Squidman tossed a small box to Shane, who caught it in his left hand. "He also left us a remote control for Frank's voicebox, something he added when he changed Frank back from a scooter to a dirt bike," Squidman explained. "If he gets to be too much, just hit the mute button." Shane stuffed the remote into his pocket. "Okay. Look, I don't want a big goodbye...just tell everyone I'll be back when I'm able, okay?" Squidman paused, weighing Shane's request against what might be actually good for the man. Then he acquiesced. "Okay." As Shane headed out the door, Squidman asked, "Did you name it yet?" Shane cast his eyes down at the Hackesack tied to his belt. "No... not yet." Then he walked out of the bare room. ============================================================================ Next Issue: Shane and ATV Frank go out into the wilds of northern Illi.net to hunt for Hackemon, while back at the HQ various subplots are advanced, woo! The countdown to #100 continues with "Training Wheels!" ============================================================================ Author's Notes: For those who don't follow Pokemon, here's a few notes on the characters and concepts used in this issue. Dr. Elm = Professor Oak, the kindly old man who sends players out on their adventures in the Pokemon game. Picochu = Pikachu, the insufferably cute electric mouse. Psydock = Psyduck, added by special request of Jamas Enright. Hackesack = Pokeball Hackemon = Pokemon, who are found wild in any tall grass you encounter in the game, even tall grass in the middle of a city. The ' accents over the e in each name are taken as given, I'm not going to go into 8-bit ASCII to get the accent right. And now, a special "treat" for you readers, a little song parody I put together the other day. "Pikachu" to the tune of "Peekaboo" by Siouxsie and the Banshees Cramming into toystores, Running into wide aisles. Breathless and lined up to pay, Frantic eyes and happy smiles. It has many cities, In each one you'll find a gym. Send 'em out and force submission, Only one can get the win.... Pikachu! Pikachu! Pikachu! Pikachu! Building up a stable, Trap them in a Pokeball. Tiny powers in your hand, Train them in fights, use them on demand. One's lighting up the shadows, Glowing behind a smile. Cut and dig and swim and flutter, Into the great and open wild! Pikachu! Pikachu! (continues under following) Golly jeepers, where'd ya get those creatures? Neat toy, Game Boy, Where did ya get those guys? Koffings make you sicker, Vulpix lash out and roar. Those Kakuna just get thicker, While Spearows peck and soar. They're falling to your poke's, And fill your Pokedex. Weepinbells and Rapidashes, Losing to electric mice. Pikachu! Pikachu! (continues under following) Golly jeepers, where'd ya get those creatures? Neat toy, oh boy, Where did ya get those guys? Golly jeepers, where'd ya get those creatures? Neat toy, Game Boy, Where did ya get those guys?