Chapter Seven: Rex
Chapter Seven: Rex
Beep. Beep. Be-Beep.
"That has to be the most boring ringtone ever," said Charlotte casually. The pair were under a tree, the flickers of orange and red from their campfire lighting the crepuscular atmosphere. They had fought mechanical traps all day before finally deciding to rest.
Bevan rolled over and picked up his phone. On the screen it said
Dad (he had tried to change it to "Evan" in the past, but that was, apparently, quite impossible). He picked it up and walked out of earshot of his companion.
"Hi."
"Bevan. How are you doing? Where are you in Route 616?"
"I'm alright. I'm up to the traps." His voice was uncomfortable and shifty. He'd never been all that close with his father, but Charlotte's words yesterday had made him uneasy. How much of a monster was his father?
"The traps? Really?" Evan seemed genuinely impressed. "I must say, that's quite an achievement. Most people are climbing the mountain at this stage."
"Yeah - I went through the tunnels underneath. Got lucky, I guess." Bevan didn't want to reveal that his source of achievement was another person, a trainer no less. His father never approved of him socialising with commoners, and, strangely enough, there was some pride in being praised by his father. A pride that seemed to coexist with the loathing which he felt.
"The tunnels." There was a pause, and Bevan could imagine his father frowning. "You got lucky against some rough odds, there. I guess Larvitar helped you navigate?"
"Y-yeah. That's probably why I got through so quickly."
"Now, Bevan, there's - uh - intelligence that something isn't quite right in that group of Cloaks. Have you seen anything weird? Or out of the ordinary?"
Bevan glanced over at Charlotte. Was she being watched?
"No."
"You don't sound very confident, Bevan." Evan's voice was stern and disapproving.
"W-well, I haven't really been on the lookout for anything strange, so I might have missed something."
"I think you should start now, then. Let me tell you something: there have been attacks recently. They were hushed up, and they've been perpetrated against the immediate family members of the Oligarchs."
Bevan's loathing for his father was immediately replaced by fear. "But - I'm your immediate family! Your only immediate family! You - you've got to get me out of here!"
"That would be very bad press. Instead, I'm sending you a high-ranking Cloak tomorrow to look after you. Since Route 616 is forbidden for the press, we can keep you safe and the public panic-free."
"And when I reach the Academy?"
"He will leave, but the Academy is a fortress. You'll be safe there."
Something struck Bevan. "This is just an excuse to spy on me, isn't it?"
"Bevan, I'm sick of the moody teenager act. It's old. Besides which, the Cloak is not reporting to me - I don't even know who he - or she, for that matter - is. Your safety is a vastly more important than your privacy. The entire country got over that phase decades ago."
Bevan simply hung up. There was no arguing with his father. He was single-minded and refused to be contradicted. The difference was that now he could push a button and avoid the lecture.
*
"Come, Rex - I have an assignment for you."
Rex, like Augury, was covered in a black cloak. He was in his early thirties, had penetrating, dark eyes, and equally dark skin. His head was bald, and an ebony, Mephistophelian beard hung from his chin. Were it not for the insurmountable terror which Augury's presence brought to the room, his tall figure would dominate it.
He was not an Oligarch, but a high ranking Cloak - one of Susan's deputies, and in a perfect position to spy on her. As Augury's protégé, he had been taught how to use telekinesis, and was the only person alive who knew what Augury looked like without his mask. He knew almost all of Augury's secrets, including his dominion over multiple Oligarchs. Often, Augury's servants would have to settle with meeting with Rex rather than Augury, but in these dangerous times, this protocol was increasingly unusual.
Rex spoke in a deep voice. "What is it, my Lord?"
"The escortation of Bevan Emerit. I suspect you know why. And why he is more important than any of the other potential targets."
"Of course."
"And, see what you can find out from him. Anything suspicious."
"My Lord, I will do my best. But without telepathy..."
"I know what you seek, Rex. But I shall not give it to you."
Psychic powers could roughly be divided into two categories: telepathy and telekinesis. The former involved the manipulation of minds, the latter the manipulation of objects. Augury had taught Rex telekinesis, but not telepathy. The first reason for this was paranoia: Augury could simply not risk his apprentice gaining the ability to flicker through his mind and find the secrets that he kept. There was a risk of the student surpassing the teacher.
The second reason was that telepathy was mentally debilitating. When Augury had first discovered the Griseous Orb, it unleashed upon him the ability to manipulate things with his mind. Telekinesis had no adverse effects, but telepathy - it tore him. It changed him. This was the reason that Augury had shared with Rex.
"I apologise, Lord Augury. And the girl? Shall I be on the lookout for her?"
"If, and only if, you can do so not to the detriment of your duty as Bevan's escort."
"Very well, Lord Augury."
*
"Wh-who are you?" Charlotte's voice was high and slightly upset.
"I was planning to ask you the same question," a deep voice replied. "My name is Rex, and I will be escorting Bevan due to security considerations. And you are?"
"Ch-Charlotte. Charlotte Appleby."
"And you just... happen to be sleeping by an Oligarch's son? I find that a bit suspicious."
"We were just travelling together, sir. It's relatively common for Route 616."
"True, but I don't get the impression that you're an innocent traveller. Appleby... eh? One of the three former trainers recruited to Cloakhood. That puts you down a notch in my book. And then there's the look of familiarity in your eyes - have you seen me before?"
"No, sir. You just remind me of someone I know."
"That twitch in your lip suggests you're not being honest. And you're showing anxiety all over."
"You're... suggesting I'm dangerous, sir. Of course such suggestions make me nervous."
"True, Appleby, but the signs of anxiety started before I opened my mouth."
Charlotte's heart was racing. This man was not to be messed with. He was dangerously perceptive - not unlike someone else she knew. "As a trainer... it's kind of instinct... when you see someone strange stand over you when you wake up."
Rex smiled ominously. This was his method. He would exploit all insecurities and involuntary movements in someone in order to open them up. To lay bare all their secrets. "So you are just a friend of Master Emerit? Very well. You can join us."
Charlotte smelled a trap. If she refused, she would cast suspicion upon herself, and she'd be alone, meaning she could be tracked and quietly killed. This was exactly the reason why she chose to stay with Bevan in the first place - so they couldn't quietly execute her. On the other hand, if she stayed, she could easily slip up in front of this man. Her choices were certain death and near-certain death.
She mustered a smile. "Of course, sir. I look forward to it."
"No you don't. You're terrified."
"Admittedly so, but I'm terrified of what brought you here. The, ah... security problem. The attacks on Cronine have shaken us all a bit."
"But not you."
Charlotte, who was a reasonably perceptive person, could not see past the bluffing confidence of this man. He was a brilliant liar, his face giving nothing away.
"Wh-what?" Bevan was stirring.
"Master Emerit. There have been some security concerns, and-"
"O-oh yeah," said Bevan groggily, sitting up. "My dad told me that you'd be coming."
Charlotte shot Bevan a betrayed look. How could you not have told me this?
With surprising vigor and speed, he yelled, "VIT6."
Rex's face betrayed, just for a split second, a strange look of both readiness and surprise. Bevan tilted his head back and smiled triumphantly.
"You know my father. That's his personal distress code for his inner sanctum - are you really here to protect me from this Dagger freak? Or are you here to spy on me?"
"Do you have something to hide, young man?"
"Plenty." Bevan hated being called a young man. It reinforced his adolescent status, and was something his father would call him when ordering him around. His mother's title was
woman.
Charlotte was surprised. He hadn't ever shown this kind of arrogance before to her. But, then again, she wasn't a pushy figure of authority to him. She was his friend, or at least, he thought she was. At that moment, she envied Bevan for his ability to speak his mind to all these powerful figures in government, enjoying the shield of his father.
"Emerit, I will be following you, whether you like it or not." As Rex said this, he twisted Bevan's stomach psychically to induce discomfiture. "Your father has intimated to me that he would prefer you in pain than dead, so this could be quite a damaging journey. He may value your life more than mine, but he doesn't value your word more. So if you want to make my job hard, I'll break your legs and tell him you tried to run away."
The voice seemed emotionally distant, but still cruel. Still savouring the joy that schadenfreude brings. Bevan could tell that this was one agent who would be able to bully him. Nodding reluctantly, he realised that what was supposed to be a window of freedom was crushed by the all-pervasive Oligarchy.
*
Midday.
The day had gone by eventfully, with Charlotte and Bevan dodging numerous robotic traps on the long road to the Academy. Rex simply stood back and watched, only once interfering when a stray coal flew at him. It was quite an incredible sight, even for Charlotte: he had whipped out a Gengar from his ball in a rapid circular motion, simply throwing it towards the coal. Without even being commanded to do so, Gengar had used Psychic, shrivelling the dangerous, steaming ball and tossing it aside.
Charlotte was unusually quiet, and Bevan was too. The three walked in silence, and eventually, Rex realised he wasn't going to get any information this way. A rebellious Oligarch brat and a suspicious girl. What are they hiding?
"Is it customary for you two to travel in silence? Or is this a new event?"
When neither answered, he continued. "Perhaps you didn't understand. I asked a question, and I expect it to be answered. You both wish to become Cloaks, correct? Insolence isn't tolerated in your profession of choice."
"You came along, and I decided to shut up," said Bevan moodily. "Having only you to talk to as a result, Charlotte did the same."
"Stop."
Charlotte froze, but Bevan kept on walking, his face contorted with anger. Rex tilted his head and strode over to Bevan, pulling him with incredible strength against the nearest tree. "I told you to stop. Your father obviously didn't teach you how to behave, so let me give you a lesson. Gengar."
Instinctively, Bevan pulled out two Pokéballs. "Larvitar!"
"You stupid little child. Put that away before Gengar rips it apart."
"Bevan - no..." Charlotte's voice was weak and helpless. There was no way out of this. He was going to be broken, and she couldn't help him.
"Larvitar, Bite!"
"Psychic," said Rex, annoyed by this feeble attempt at resistance.
Larvitar leapt at Gengar, his mouth wide open. Gengar looked amusedly at the tiny dinosaur, allowing it to get closer. Closer, and crash. In an instant, Gengar had flung the Larvitar sideways into the lake, with the ease that one throws a tissue into the rubbish.
"Larvitar!" Bevan's voice was anxious. He attempted to run, but Rex blocked him. "Two choices, Emerit. You take your punishment like a man and Gengar will save your Pokémon, or I'll catch you as you run and Larvitar will drown."
Bevan had never felt a loathing towards anyone as strong as he felt towards this newcomer. This man was calmly describing a life-and-death situation, which he could easily prevent, but would only do if a minor submits willingly to torture. Was this his father's way of parenting him? He didn't have the guts to apply his tough-love philosophy to his own son, so he sends someone else to do it?
"Save my Pokémon, you son of a b
itch." For a second, the skewed, terrified, angry voice of this boy reminded Rex of Lord Augury. He nodded to Gengar, who leapt into the lake, grabbed Larvitar, and brought it to shore.
"And now, Emerit. For your end of the bargain. Just lie there, and try to remember the pain you're about to feel next time you want to mouth off to me." He stood back. Charlotte's face was a mixture of empathy and disgust. "Gengar, a prisoner grade Dark Pulse."
Gengar spread its arms, releasing a wave of darkness that washed over Bevan. He felt himself being psychologically and physically retched. Charlotte was reminded of a seizure. The agony which he felt was indescribable. The darkness ran through his blood, as hot as fire, as cold as ice, and as terrifying as the memory of his mother being dragged away.
And Rex simply stood over him, watching the teenager convulse and suffer, his face as blank and stony as his master's silver mask, with the exception of a subtle, asymmetric smile.
