Lokemon 3 by John Hobbs

Author:John Hobbs [Hobbs, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-26T22:00:00+00:00

12: Contact

Scrapras, the Garbage Barge Lokemon, is a rare Water / Rock species named for its propensity to eat scrap metal. Small watercraft railings are especially prone to nibbling. The metallic diet causes its stone shell to gradually become alloyed.

—Lokepedia Entry #131

Cole pressed the elevator button to return to the viewing gallery. The door opened and his blood pressure spiked as someone rushed him.

It was just Verda. She almost ran him down. Her eyes were wide. The drink in her hand was slightly crushed.

“Grab made 50,000 credits,” she said softly.

“Later,” he replied, then covered up the quiet word by asking normally, “Do you know what the announcer was talking about? Using up my four moves?”

She answered automatically, drifting down the hallway toward the weapon check counter, still in a bit of a daze. “Pro circuit rules. Using the same move more than four times a match is considered abuse.”

On a monitor above the elevator, the announcer’s pigtails bounced as she gestured wildly. “The challenger sent a clear message. If this was a no-shield tournament McPherson would’ve lost, and lost hard. Is this a hint Field Trainer Cole, the mysterious one-armed master, has his sight set on the upcoming nationals?”

CGI stars shone in her eyes. “And his long scruffy hair is super cute, but not as cute as his seekachu!”

Verda coughed mid-sip.

“Okay?” Cole asked.

“Choked on my slushy.”

Cole adjusted his hat. “It’s not the first time someone’s mentioned my good looks. Something about red hair…”

Verda punched his shoulder. “Don’t be a prat.”

“You can’t spell partner without prat.”

A laugh escaped her. She hid her mouth behind her drink.

They went to the weapon check booth, and the employee behind the counter had Cole’s swords in hand before they were a dozen steps away.

“A moment of your time, sir,” said a deep voice behind Cole. The statement was worded in such a way to sound like a command. A friendly command, but a command nonetheless.

Cole turned. The man behind him stood ramrod straight. He had dead eyes that didn’t match a perfectly practiced and utterly natural smile. A medal in the shape of three lokeballs was pinned to his blue jacket.

“I’m Gym Master General Riley. Good to meet you face to face. I remember people better that way. Care to exchange contacts?”

“No thanks.”

“Good. You don’t even know me.” The gym master reached into his pocket and pulled out a shimmering badge in the shape of a starview. “Wear this on your dex with pride. And never challenge my gym again.”

The final statement was a definite command, and no longer a friendly one.

He continued in the same flat, unyielding tone. “I recommend you try Spelter Gym, I’m sure Roc’s boulders would give you a cheerful welcome.”

The medal on the gym master’s jacket almost blinded Cole as he turned on his heel and marched away.

“He gave you a badge,” Verda said numbly.

“Looks like it.”

“But … you didn’t beat him.”

Cole shrugged.

She shook herself. Her eyes narrowed. “I can tell this kind of stuff is going to be annoying.

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