Chapter 2: Selection
“Welcome to the O’Malley Institute for Parthenogenic Research, Mr. Harris.” The director gestured Devon into a comfy chair, before settling behind his desk. A large placard announced that he was Dr. Stephen Armbrust. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”
Dr. Armbrust’s secretary, a Bunnygirl named Priss, brought in a tray of tea and crackers. She poured Devon a cup. Devon nodded his thanks and plopped in a sugar. He was very much aware of her nearby warmth and fresh smell and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she walked out of the room, and then turned his attention back to his host.
“Call me Devon, and yes, my hike was quite peaceful. I would have been surprised if it had been otherwise. This area isn’t officially part of the local Elfqueen’s lands, but recently Queen Xantha has gotten in some more elves, and she’s been quietly expanding her territory.” He smiled. “Her people give the more feral pokegirls an outlet, so things stay quiet, just as she likes it.”
The director blinked at the word people. He appeared to shrug it off and smiled. “Anyway, I was extremely pleased to receive your request.” His smile widened. “A request from a member of the Harris family to use one of our pokegirls was unexpected, but very welcome. It gladdens my heart to see that we are finally starting to be accepted by the local community and especially by the Conservatory.” He frowned slightly. “Although I must admit, given the Conservatory’s reputation, you aren’t quite what I expected.”
Devon plastered a sympathetic look on his face as he considered his response. The O’Malley research station was a relatively new operation, only twenty years old. In this part of northern Blue, the people still referred to themselves as Scots, and defiantly cleaved to their Celtic roots. Dr. Armbrust would be old and gray before the locals stopped referring to the people at the Institute as “the newcomers” down in the pub at Lairg, the closest village.
As for the other comment, Devon knew exactly what Dr. Armbrust was trying not to notice. He’d gotten it before.
“I’m glad it looks that way.” He gave Dr. Armbrust a slightly frosty look. “As for the way I look, you have to understand that there hasn’t been a human woman involved in my family tree since pokegirls first started walking the earth over three hundred years ago. There aren’t that many human females up here, and one has to make do.” The lie came easily. The truth was more obscure. For various reasons, the Harris men had just never taken a human to wife. Devon had read the family journals and there was no common thread in the choices. But people held their prejudices tightly, and refused to believe in coincidence. Some of the stories were rather ugly. But, for the most part, Harris men tended to put it down to the old story of resenting those better off than you. Poppet had always agreed with the Harris assessment, but then Devon had suspected she wasn’t too fond of most humans.
“I didn’t mean any offense.” Dr. Armbrust sounded sincere, but Devon had his doubts. “Now, let me tell you about what I thought our schedule for the day would be.”
Devon sipped at his tea and leaned back, letting his mind wander as Dr. Armbrust went on about the facility and his upcoming tour. He hoped they got around to letting him pick out his pokegirl soon.
***
Devon stood with Dr. Call-me-Stephen Armbrust and Priss at the front of the break room, watching as the eligible pokegirls filed into the room and grabbed seats. The vast majority of the faces looking back at him were Kittens and Bunnygirls. A few Squirtitties and what he suspected was a Soixante-Neuf rounded out the rest of the room. Everyone wore light pink coveralls to designate their availability. Pokewomen wore green while lab personnel wore lab coats over their coveralls.
All of the pokegirls made the room smell warm and delicious.
When the last pokegirl had settled down, Dr. Armbrust looked at the G-Poindexter that was just inside the doorway, leaning against the wall. Her lab coat indicated that she was not one of the prospective choices. “Is everyone here now, Clair?”
Clair surveyed the room and then shook her head. “Sorry, doctor, I forgot the new ones.” She hustled out of the room.
Dr. Armbrust leaned closer to Devon. “Now that is something you might be interested in,” he mock-whispered. “One of them is a very unusual case.” He gave a wink. “Actually, her presence puts us in a bit of a pickle, you see, and I’d be very grateful if you could perhaps see clear to taking her off my hands.”
“Uh huh.” Devon didn’t see, but then he didn’t care either. He listened to Stephen with only one ear as he surveyed the room, a slight tension developing as he did not see the one pokegirl he expected to. “I thought you said that you had a Growlie ready for Taming. I don’t see her. Or is she the unusual case you mentioned.”
“Oh, no, she’s not that one. Didn’t you get my email?” Stephen looked perplexed. He turned to Priss. “When did you send my message about the Growlie?”
Priss smiled prettily. “You never told me to send an email about the Growlie, doctor.”
“I didn’t? That was thoughtless of me. I’ll have to talk with you about it later.” Priss’ ears twitched. He turned back to Devon. “Sorry about that. We actually had a tamer from Wick come here last week, and he took the Growlie.”
This was not good. Devon had been counting on getting the Growlie. She was the deciding factor in his choice to come to the Institute. Now what was he going to do?
Clair came back into the room, followed by two new pokegirls. One was another obvious bunny type and the other was a very near human of some kind. They took seats at the back of the room. Clair folded her arms and resumed her post against the wall.
Dr. Armbrust pointed at the near human with his chin. “That is the interesting case I mentioned.” His voice grew excited. “She’s post puberty yet recently went through Threshold.”
Devon was slightly intrigued. Threshold almost always took place when a girl was entering puberty. “Do tell.” Perhaps this would be some information he could get back to his father. He gave the pokegirl an appraising look.
She was shorter than many of the other girls, probably around a meter and a half. She was slender too, and Devon didn’t think she’d go over 50 kilos. Her hair was a shiny black and he remembered it had swung down around her hips when she entered the room. Her skin was a dusky brown and her blue eyes seemed out of place in her dark, lush face. She looked around the room vaguely. Devon got the impression that she was not quite sure of where she was.
Devon also noted that she appeared much older than the rest of the pokegirls in the room.
“We’re still not sure how it happened, but she was a master’s student from the Hardcore Pokegirl League on the Blood Continent. She was here on a research fellowship, working on her doctoral thesis. Three days ago she suddenly went through Threshold.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially and leaned closer. Devon fought the urge to move away. “She was inventorying our T2 machines and we found her like that.” He tsked. “Twenty years old, a master’s degree student and she had to become a pokegirl. If she’d only done it at puberty like everyone else, I wouldn’t suddenly be short a research student.”
Devon pulled out his PDA/pokedex and after placing the earplug in his right ear, scanned the pokegirl with it, more to cover his anger than out of any interest.
Threshold shock could last up to two weeks, and standard ranch and League procedure was that a newly Thresholded pokegirl should remain in bed until she recovered. Any strenuous activity before that point could cause irreparable harm to the pokegirl.
While it was interesting to know that such a small place had a stock of T2s, considering the way the Institute appeared to treat its pokegirls Devon didn’t think he’d be giving any glowing recommendations in the future.
His PDA whispered to him in its sexy contralto. “Mini-Top, the excessively violent pokegirl. Taming will be required for additional information.”
Devon crushed an urge to shake his PDA. That couldn’t be right. There was no way a very near human could be any sort of rabbit. Then he noticed that he’d had the pokedex sensor pointed at the bunny who’d accompanied her. He realigned the lens.
“Witch, the magic abuser pokegirl. Taming will be required for additional information.”
Devon murmured, knowing the PDA would hear him through the bone conduction mike built into the earpiece. “Telling me that Taming will be required for additional information is not necessary. Just tell me what you know.”
“Understood. Software update complete.” The artificial intelligence built into the PDA was still working out its relationship with Devon, and the first few weeks were going to have a steep learning curve until it learned what he wanted from it.
“Why do you have a Mini-Top? She doesn’t seem like the type for research into improving the yield of parthenogenesis in pokegirls.”
Dr. Armbrust made a disgusted noise. “She’s a Yank.” Devon suppressed a smile. He happened to know that Dr. Armbrust was a citizen of Capitol, and thus as much a Yank as anyone could be. “Two weeks ago she was sent here by the local police. When she got here she was a Beachbunny.” The disgusted noise again. “No one bothered to tell us that she was the sole survivor of an attack by some water pokegirl that killed her trainer and the other five members of her harem. She evolved just after her arrival. Don’t mind her. I’m having the paperwork processed now, and as soon as it’s complete, I’ll have her put down.”
Dad would be proud. Devon thought to himself. Considering that he’d inherited more than his fair measure of the Harris temper, it was remarkable that the man standing next to him was still breathing.
He watched as Priss sidled away from the two of them. It was interesting to note that a pokegirl, one that Stephen would probably consider subhuman at best, knew that Devon was fighting the desire to tear Stephen’s head off while Dr. Armbrust was oblivious.
His voice was steady and calm. Years with Poppet had taught him to hide his emotions. “I’ll take the Witch from you if I can have the Mini-Top too.” He continued as Stephen pulled his jaw closed. “Oh, and I’m terribly sorry, Stephen, but I hadn’t had the chance to tell you that something came up on the trip here and there’s been a change of plans. I won’t be able to stay the night after all.”
Dr. Armbrust nodded as he waved Clair to him. “Fine, fine. I understand how things sometimes go.” He whispered to Clair, who threaded her way around the tables and came up behind the Mini-Top. She leaned down as if to speak to the pokegirl and without warning pressed a pokeball to the back of her neck. There was a flash of light and the pokegirl was gone.
Armbrust smiled and raised his voice. “That will be all. Return to your dormitory.” The girls got up and filed out, talking quietly amongst themselves.
Clair caught the Witch as she tried to leave the room. Devon watched, his eyes stony.
Priss moved farther away.