But here I was just over a year later getting ready for my big day. Minty and one of her friends, a hairdresser, were putting the finishing touches on my hair. My closest friend, Lucy, sat nearby, playing with Stefan.

"It’s looking great," Minty enthused.

"Yes, it does," I had to admit. I hated the fuss people had been making of me all day. Yes, okay, it was a special day, but I don’t like people fussing over me at any time. "There, that should be it," my sister’s friend said, stepping back. I turned my head from side to side, and adjusted the headpiece slightly. It had been handmade for me, and was made largely of silver. Several miniature red roses were carefully intertwined in it.

"Go and get your dress on then," Minty said. I rose, feeling conscious of the cascade of hair that fell in long, gentle semi-corkscrews down my back. My dress was a simple one, more like a gown. It was ivory in colour – I hated white, plus there wasn’t exactly a lot of point in me wearing it - and swooped low over my shoulders. I hope I don’t have to bend down at all, else I think everything will pop out. It came down almost all the way to my feet, and kind of trailed out at the back. I wasn’t into frills or huge skirts that puffed out for miles. Minty helped me to pull up the zip at the back so my hair wasn’t disturbed. She swung me round to look at her, and gasped.

"Oh Izzy! Go and show Helen and Lucy."

"Don’t push me," I muttered as she hustled me into the other room.

"Helen, Lucy, doesn’t she look wonderful?" Minty gushed. Helen and Lucy both smiled at me.

"Lovely. Isabella, take a look for yourself." I was directed towards a full-length mirror. Now, I’m not a vain person, but I couldn’t help but stare at my reflection for a very long time. For the first time in my life, I myself could say I looked beautiful.

"Well?" they both asked in unison.

"It’s great," I said, in an understatement. "Thank you." Lucy sighed.

"Smile a bit more Isabella. It’s a wedding, not a funeral."

"We’re not there yet," I answered. Minty glanced at the clock.

"Not far away though," she said, then hugged me. "My little sister’s getting married!" she squealed. I rolled my eyes. There was a knock at the door.

"Are you finished yet? Time’s getting on you know." It was my father.

"Go back downstairs dad, we’ll be down in a minute," Minty told him.

"We’re anxious to see the bride," he replied, with a chuckle. I sighed.

"Is that everything?" I asked. Minty nodded, as did Helen. "Time to face the world then," I said, with a smile. "Where’s my bouquet?"

The ceremony was lovely. There weren’t a huge number of guests there, for both Eric and I wanted it to be an occasion for close family and friends. I had told Eric that if he turned up with a hangover I wouldn’t speak to him again, but he seemed to be none the worse for wear. The only bit I didn’t really enjoy was having to sit through the speeches. I was glad to finally get something to eat. It had been a long, lovely day for me, but it was near its end, and part of me couldn’t help feeling glad. I think Minty was chatting up every eligible man there, including Eric’s brother. I watched her as I leaned against Eric. We were lazily moving across what had been set out as a dancefloor in the kind of tired stupor alcohol brings on. Other people that were staying to the end were dancing a little more enthusiastically, but I was happy to observe from the comfort of Eric’s arms.

"Minty’s trying it on with your brother," I said, my words half slurred from drink and tiredness.

"She won’t have much luck," he replied, with a smile. I sighed.

"Why couldn’t I have had a sensible sister like yours?"

"Why couldn’t I have had an extrovert sister like yours?" he answered, grinning. I watched my Flareon happily chasing someone’s Jolteon between the chairs.

"Flame! Behave!" I called to it half-heartedly as it came blazing past us. Flame paused and looked at me.

"Flare, Flare!" it yapped, then bolted off again. I frowned. Flame was usually better behaved. Maybe it had been at the drinks like the rest of us. My shoes were killing me, and I pulled Eric over to sit down.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied, beaming. "You?"

"Definitely," he smiled at me, and pulled me onto his lap and into a kiss. Someone nearby clicked a camera. I couldn’t wait until Eric and I were left alone in peace again. It was like being a celebrity. Everywhere we went today someone seemed to be poking a camera at us. We weren’t going to go on our honeymoon until tomorrow.

"You’ve not told me all evening if you like my dress," I said, a little stroppily.

"I did," he protested.

"Tell me again," I said, putting my arms round his neck. He laughed.

"You’re drunk," he said. I knew it too, but it meant that I didn’t care.

"Tell me," I pouted in a mock fashion.

"It’s a nice dress. You look absolutely fantastic in it," he said. "But you’d look absolutely fantastic out of it too. Do that pouty thing again."

"Shh!" I hissed, clamping my hand over his mouth. We both broke into a fit of giggles. My father came over to us.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah I suppose we are," I replied, sliding off Eric’s lap. Time to do the round of goodbyes and thank you’s. I took a breath trying to clear my head, then decided it wasn’t worth it. No one else would notice.

The honeymoon was over and reality beckoned. I had been away for about ten days and came back to what I considered mayhem. I set about sorting everything out. I was going to have to haul in one of the field agents. He hadn’t managed to complete a single mission yet. I don’t know why, his tests had shown him to be perfectly capable of it. He was due here any time now. Father still hadn’t budged on the idea of more labs, but I had managed to get a smaller centre set up further north which meant that the agents didn’t have to trek all the way back here to report in. They could also spend more time looking for Pokemon. Especially those that were worth something, or were rare. I had heard about some lab being built on Cinnabar Island, and wondered if it would be worth sending someone in as a plant. The information and research they did would help supplement our own. I felt frustrated that I couldn’t authorise projects myself. I would just have to bide my time until the reins were passed over to me. Not being in control of the company did not mean I couldn’t plot its future. My phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked. There was silence. I was about to put it down when someone spoke.

"I know who you are and what you are doing," the voice on the other end rasped.

"Oh really?" I responded, keeping my voice level.

"I’m watching you, and the organisation you run."

"Well if you were you’d know I’m not in charge of any organisation," I said coolly, and put the phone down. It was probably someone playing a stupid prank, but I made a note to have the phone numbers changed anyway. My secretary came into my office.

"Ma’am, Trey is here to see you as ordered."

"Send him in." I leaned back in my chair as Trey entered.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Why have you failed to complete any mission set to you?" I got straight to the point.

"I don’t know," he replied.

"Don’t know?" I said, icily.

"Maybe field work isn’t really my thing after all," he said, tucking a strand of green hair back into place.

"It doesn’t seem so, does it?"

"Isn’t there another job for me ma’am?" I looked at him sternly. He wasn’t a weak man in either physique or brainpower, and seemed to want to work. My recent phone call played in the back of my mind.

"Do you know how to use a gun?" I asked.

"Yes ma’am. I was in the army for five years," he replied.

"Perfect. I want you to be part of a new division I am going to set up. It will take care of matters that threaten the integrity of Team Rocket. We cannot afford to be exposed or infiltrated," I told him

"Are you asking me to be an assassin or a spy?" Trey asked.

"Both," I said.

"I accept," he replied. "When do I start?"

"I will let you know. In the meantime, do any research you feel is necessary. You may go."

"Thank you ma’am," he replied, and left looking a lot less dejected. I smiled a somewhat devious smile to myself. Now to somehow convince father we needed a security section.

"Izzy, go and see a doctor today." Eric’s stern voice came to me from the bedroom. I was in our bathroom busy vomiting down the toilet. This was the third day in a row I had been ill. All I could keep down was water and dry toast. I knelt by the toilet, shivering even though I was hot. I closed my eyes, and waited for the moment to pass. When it did, I managed to walk back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. I couldn’t ever remember feeling so lousy. My Nidoran seemed to sense my discomfort and tried to nuzzle me comfortingly. I pushed her away.

"Don’t touch me," I growled, though somewhat weakly. The Nidoran settled instead for curling up on Eric’s pillow, her eyes not leaving me.

"You’re white," Eric told me.

"All right, I’ll make an appointment," I snapped.

"Good. I’ll see you tonight," he replied, kissing me on the cheek before leaving. There was no way I could work, try as I might. I lay for a few minutes to be sure I would not be sick on the carpet, then reached for the phone.

I got my secretary to drive me into Viridian City to see the doctor. We had to stop twice on the way. Finally I staggered into the doctor’s surgery, feeling rather undignified.

"So what seems to be the problem?" she asked. I described my symptoms.

"Could you be pregnant?" she asked me. I just stared at her. The thought had honestly not crossed my mind.

"Well I have missed a period, but I put that down to stress due to my job," I said. The doctor reached into a drawer, and pulled out a home pregnancy tester kit.

"Well, we’ll soon find out, won’t we?" she said with a cheerfulness that jarred me.

The test came out positive.

I sat in the back of the car looking out of the window without seeing anything. The doctor had given me something that she said should ease the sickness I had been experiencing. How could I be pregnant? I did not consider myself a maternal person. I didn’t have dolls as a child, and small children made me recoil. Even with my nephew, I could hardly bring myself to pick him up. It wasn’t that I hated children – afterall, I was a child once – I just couldn’t relate to them. I wasn’t interested in them. When people asked me if Eric and I wanted children they were usually met with a contemptful snort. Eric and I had never really discussed the idea either. If I sensed that was where the subject was heading, I changed it. This had so many implications now, both in my private life and my work life. How was I going to manage my side of Team Rocket with a baby? And did Eric want a child? All I could see on my future horizon was a big black cloud.

Eric was home earlier than I had expected. I was curled up on the sofa, half-asleep. He came and sat beside me.

"You’re looking better," he said. "What did the doctor say?"

"She gave me some pills to try and get rid of the sickness," I replied, then hesitated, for once unsure what to say.

"What’s the matter?" Eric asked.

"I’m pregnant," I said. Eric’s eyes widened considerably, but then he broke into his usual grin and hugged me.

"That’s great," he said, but then sensed I didn’t share his joy. "Isn’t it?"

"I suppose so," I began. "It’s just the surprise of it, I guess." Eric knew me better then that.

"No it’s not. What’s the matter?"

"Nothing," I snapped, then realised I wasn’t going to be able to brush him aside. I composed myself. "Eric, I don’t think I want a child."

"Well it’s a little late now, isn’t it?"

"I could always..."

"Get a termination?" Eric interrupted. "And where do my feelings come into this?"

"It’s my body."

"It’s my baby too." He looked at me in a way that forced me to lower my eyes. "Why would a baby be such an awful thing for you?"

"How am I supposed to do my job with a baby? How am I supposed to run Team Rocket? I can’t take it with me if I need to travel somewhere. I don’t even like them. All they do is poo and cry and throw up." It was a weak argument, and it wasn’t helped by the fact I was beginning to whine like a little girl.

"Is Team Rocket more important to you then me?" Eric asked.

"No," I answered, truthfully, though I couldn’t be sure if in the future I would be able to say that.

"Then why would a child - our child - be any different?"

"I don’t know," I admitted. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Maybe you just need to get used to the idea," Eric said, placing a hand over my abdomen, an area I had refrained from touching ever since I found out I was pregnant.

"Perhaps," I said.

Two months later and I was still having some difficulty getting my head round the idea. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that visibly there was nothing yet to show that I was pregnant. I was often still sick in the morning, and sometimes during the whole day, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. My father was delighted at the news, though I had told him straight off not to make a fuss of me. I was to work as normal for as long as possible. Father had tried directly to get me to change my mind, then tried to get Eric to persuade me who had refused.

"The moment it gets too much for you stop," father told me.

"I’m not stupid, dad," I had replied.

Surprisingly, he had given the go ahead for a security section to be established. I was pleased to see Trey had taken to his new job like a duck to water. I placed him in charge of training other agents in the skills needed to do undercover work of the more serious nature. Recruiting for the new section was easier than for the field agents. Many of them unlike Trey, were goons who hit out first then asked questions. Which is fine in certain situations, but not all. For his sake, I kept the darkest nature of what these thugs may have to do secret from my father. I didn’t really like having to do that, but I felt it was for the best. This afternoon I was paying a visit to the labs to catch up on what was going on there. Father was not there today, so one of my father’s technicians, a man named Charles, escorted me down a dim corridor to a lab.

"What’s down here?" I asked.

"This part of the laboratories is for researching electric Pokemon," Charles told me. "The current main project involves splicing the genes of an electric Pokemon with molecules of a Magnemite."

"Splicing genes?" I asked.

"A technology way ahead of its time. Basically, in this case, we take the gene that makes an electric Pokemon electric, take it apart, and insert the Magnemite cells."

"What is the point of this experiment?" I asked, as we entered the lab.

"We’re hoping to create a Pokemon with substantial electromagnetic powers. Such a Pokemon could be very useful," said Charles. "You’re lucky, today we will be testing the Pokemon to see if we have been successful." He went over to a tank. Several other technicians milled around pressing buttons and adjusting wires. Out of the tank an Electabuzz was lifted, tubes running out of several parts of its body. Its eyes were shut. It was set down on a table, and the scientists put clamps on its arms and legs. A screen was erected around it. Charles made me stand well back.

"This could be very dangerous."

"I’m not afraid," I retorted.

"That’s not the point, miss." He turned to an assistant. "Wake it," he ordered. The assistant jabbed a couple of switches and buttons. The Electabuzz stirred, and tried to sit up.

"All machinery is operating," another technician said. I watched with fascination as equipment whirred into life. Something came down and hit the Electabuzz. It retaliated by using its powers. Yet already it was obvious that it was different from a normal Electabuzz for it glowed first yellow then white. I had to shield my eyes. The beeping of some of the machines grew frantic.

"Sir, I’m reading high levels of electromagnetism."

"Excellent," said Charles. The technician suddenly frowned.

"The readings are going off the scale!" he exclaimed.

"The Pokemon is destabilising," another said.

"Shut it down," said Charles.

"I can’t," was the reply. Charles began to hustle me out of the room.

"Everybody out!" he shouted. That was the last thing I remember.

I opened my eyes to a white ceiling. At first I thought I was still in the lab but then I realised I was lying in a bed. I blinked and blinked again, trying to clear my head. Was I supposed to feel this groggy after being knocked unconscious?

"She’s awake," a voice said. It was my father. I turned to him.

"Dad?" I whispered.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"A bit weird," I said, and tried to sit up. My father pushed me down.

"Stay there for a bit."

"How long have I been out for?"

"A good couple of hours."

"What happened?"

"The experiment went wrong. The Pokemon self-destructed, taking half the lab with it," he said in a hushed voice.

"The others? Charles?"

"There were casualties," my father told me. "But Charles is okay."

"He saved me," I said. I lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair out of the way, and discovered a dressing on the side of my forehead.

"Yes," said my father, shortly. He looked to his right and up, and I saw Eric standing there with a doctor. Father stood up.

"Well, I’ll go and get myself a cup of tea," he said. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Something felt strange. I must have hit my head pretty hard on something. Eric took my father’s seat. He ran a hand through my hair.

"Hi," he said. I managed a smile.

"I want to sit up," I said, and looked at the doctor.

"Okay," he said. "But don’t rush." Eric helped me sit up, pulling the pillows into place. I felt less helpless now. Eric took my hand. I suddenly remembered something.

"The baby," I said. "What about the baby?" The doctor and Eric looked at each other, and I felt Eric’s hand tighten round mine.

"The trauma of the accident to your system was quite severe," the doctor said. "I’m afraid you’ve lost the baby. I’m sorry."

"Oh," was all I could manage. I turned to look at Eric. He had his head bowed.

"I’ll leave you alone," the doctor said, and left.

"Eric?" I said. He raised his eyes to meet mine.

"They told us not long after we arrived," he said.

"It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve only banged my head."

"Charles said that you were flung across a cabinet," he replied.

"I don’t remember," I said.

"It doesn’t matter now," Eric said quietly. "At least you’re okay."

"I guess so," I replied. I didn’t feel it though. You’d think I’d be happy that I’d got rid of something that had been bothering me. But I didn’t feel happy, yet I didn’t feel sad either. I didn’t feel anything, which frightened me. I always had an opinion, always got a sensation from things, so to be faced with this void was a complete unknown.

"I want to go home," I said.

"I think you should let the doctor decide that Izzy," said Eric as I climbed out of bed, wobbling. He stood up just in time to stop me toppling forwards and sat me back down onto the bed. My father came back.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting ready to go home," I said, brushing Eric away.

"The doctor said he’d like you to stay in for observation," my father said as I stood up again, this time a little more firmly. Father looked at Eric.

"I tried to tell her," Eric said offhandedly, gesturing towards me.

"I’ll fetch the doctor," my father said.

"Fetch all the doctors you want," I said. "Where are my clothes?" My father left the room.

"Where are my clothes, Eric?" I demanded. Eric closed his eyes briefly, letting out a sigh.

"In the bag under the chair," he replied, folding his arms. I stared at him.

"Fine, I’ll get them myself," I muttered. I gritted my teeth as I knelt down, holding onto the chair for support. I put the bag on the bed, and took out my singed clothes. The smell on them was disgusting, but I ignored it. Father came back with the doctor.

"I wouldn’t advise you to go home yet," the doctor said. I looked at him defiantly.

"Can you stop me?"

"Well, no, but it is my responsibility to make sure you are in a fit state."

"I have no problems with my vision, no headaches, and as you can see, I am capable of standing up," I said.

"Listen to the doctor, Sweet," my father tried to reason.

"If I have problems I will return, but otherwise I see no reason to be here," I said.

"If that’s your decision," said the doctor.

"It is," I replied. The doctor nodded resignedly, and left. Father followed him back out, and I could hear him arguing with the doctor, pointless as that was. I couldn’t stand to be in this place a minute longer.

We didn’t really discuss the miscarriage after that. Maybe some people would have done, dwelling for weeks or even months after the event, but to me it was in the past now and was done with. It was business as usual. The lab was rebuilt along with other repairs needed after the explosion and the technicians replaced, though they were under careful surveillance for a few weeks at first. Despite the accident, I still went down to the labs to see what was going on, though my real interest at the moment was still making money and maintaining the field agents. I was in the middle of making a deal on behalf of father that would allow us more access to government files. In general, I thought I had built up a good team of agents. I had begun to pair some of them up, just as a trial to see how it worked. Variation was they key to keeping them motivated. If an agent had been out to get water Pokemon, I would next send them out to get rock Pokemon. Mine and Eric’s first wedding anniversary came and went as fast as the year that we had spent as a married couple. We are somehow perfectly matched although it might not seem like it at times. I push him to do things he might hold back from, while he stops me from doing some really stupid things. I work hard, he’s more laid back. He cooks, I do the washing up. A cleaner takes care of most of our household jobs, thank goodness. I don’t have the time to do them myself for a start, and I’m not really a domesticated woman. Being a housewife was never on the agenda even when I was a young girl. Frankly I couldn’t imagine anything more boring, though I know that for some people they either have no choice or they find it a perfectly satisfying thing to do. I should count myself lucky, really. I have the freedom to do as I please, I have a job that brings in good money, and I have a husband who loves me despite all my faults. Yet somehow I wasn’t completely satisfied and I don’t think I ever will be. I’m too ambitious, too greedy, too selfish in many ways. If someone gave me a piece of cake, I’d want another even if that meant someone had to go without. The world is changing all the time, and it’s survival of the fittest. I certainly wasn’t going to fall by the wayside if I could help it, and neither was Team Rocket.

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"No."

"Your attitude hasn’t changed at all? I don’t believe you."

"Believe what you want."

"You’ve never even thought about it since?"

"No, no and no."

"Now you are definitely lying."

"I am not."

"Look me in the eye and say it then."

"Eric, there is no way we are going to have a baby. Satisfied?" I picked up my knife and fork again and took another mouthful of food.

"No," replied Eric. I shook my head in frustration.

"Why are you so bothered about it?"

"I just think it would be nice."

"Nice?" That word still wasn’t in my vocabulary where babies were concerned.

"Yeah. Is that such a difficult concept for you?"

"I’m twenty-five next month. I still have plenty of years left in me."

"Years fly by, Isabel." He called me Isabel to wind me up. Unfortunately for me, it always worked. I set down my knife and fork and glared at him. "You can’t give me a straightforward, reasonable answer can you?" he continued, a gleam in his eyes.

"Have you forgotten how ill it made me?" I said angrily.

"No, of course not, but maybe it will be different this time."

"This time? There isn’t going to be a this time." I was defiant. "Can’t you change the subject?"

"At least think about it," Eric said. I snapped.

"Alright, I’ll think about it if that makes you happy!" I exploded. The moment those words came out of my mouth I knew exactly what Eric had done. He just smiled at me sweetly.

"That’s a start," he said. Despite my denying it, I had thought about a baby. If I hadn’t been in an accident, hadn’t had a miscarriage, we would have been parents by now, and I couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like every time I saw someone with a pram. Maybe I had been affected by the event more than I would admit to even myself. "Eric, I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want," I said, calming down. "How about this. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t."

"What are the odds?" Eric asked me, with a laugh.

"Incalculable," I replied, shortly.

Well I lost that argument. It was only another five or six months later when I began to spend the day vomiting down the toilet, but at least this time I had an idea of what was the matter. The rest of my pregnancy hasn’t been great either. So much for that radiant maternal feeling. I stand at the window looking out into darkness. The baby is due any time now, and the size of my stomach, plus the fact that this summer is exceptionally warm has meant I haven’t been able to sleep much the past couple of weeks, and tonight is no exception. I glance back at the clock. Almost quarter past one. I am alone in the bedroom, for Eric has taken to one of the spare rooms so he can sleep without me disturbing him. All right for some. The baby kicks, and I glance down idly. I can visibly see it when the baby kicks now, the tissues of my abdomen have been stretched so thin. I wish it was over, I’m tired of being pregnant now, tired of the weight and the aches and pains. I miss the freedom of movement I had before. I run a hand through my hair, taking a last deep breath of night air and make my way back to bed to try and snatch a few more hours sleep.

Not much luck there. About two hours later I began to go into labour. Yet here I am a further five hours on, and only just finally giving birth. I had wanted it to be at home, but I had been persuaded that, just as a precaution, I should go to a hospital because of all the problems I had had in the pregnancy itself. I’m glad Eric is here with me…I am ready to admit I’m scared, though I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s hearing all the stories of other women’s experiences, yet not really knowing what to expect yourself. What I do know is that whatever they’ve given me to try and ease some of the pain isn’t working. I’m in agony. The previous five hours were nothing compared to this. I’ve screamed, I’ve cursed everyone from the midwife to Eric. Several times I almost passed out from the pain. This is definitely the only child I am having. I want to die, anything to end the torment.

"One last big push, Isabella. That’s all."

I did as I was asked, then sank back onto the pillows, turning my head away from everyone. I could hear the baby crying as someone placed it on my stomach. I didn’t look at it though. I didn’t want to. I kept my eyes closed, realising how much I had sweated, and how thirsty I was. All I wanted was a drink.

"It’s a boy," I heard the midwife say. I felt the baby being lifted off my stomach, and opened my eyes.

"You alright, Izzy?" Eric asked me, a little anxiously. I turned to him and simply nodded reassurance. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. I realised the midwife was back with the baby, this time wrapped in a blanket. I was made to sit up and the next thing I knew the baby had been plonked into my arms. I peered curiously at what I had been handed. He was kind of purplish, with a smattering of dark hair on his head and eyes that wandered everywhere, as if he was wondering what on earth had happened to him. I couldn’t tell you at that moment which one of us he looked like. Fascinated, I touched one of his hands. Such a tiny, bedraggled looking thing, it was hard to believe that he had been the cause of that big bulge I had carried around until a few minutes ago. I was relieved that it was all over. I could feel the tiredness catch up with me. I handed the baby to Eric so he could get a better look.

"Here, you hold him," I said. Eric carefully took hold of the squirming bundle. I rubbed my eyes, and watched as he smiled at the baby. He turned to me.

"Perfect," he grinned, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"Then we won’t need another one," I replied wryly. He just chuckled.

"So, what’s he going to be called then?" he asked. We couldn’t agree on a name during the past nine months. Nothing had seemed right.

"I honestly don’t know," I said.

"How about naming him after your father?" Eric said. I screwed up my face.

"No Eric. I want that as a middle name. Besides, he doesn’t look like an Edwin, does he?"

"Yeah, you’re right." He passed the baby, which already seemed to have fallen asleep, back to me.

"And he is not being named after a footballer either," I said. Eric just smiled at me innocently.

"Why not?"

"Because I say so."

"If only you weren’t so fussy," Eric said, with an affectionate squeeze of my shoulder. He thought for a moment.

"What’s the first name of Maranello, the man who first classified Pokemon and wrote the first detailed book about them?"

"Giovanni?"

"Yeah, that’s it. What about calling him that?"

"Well, he was a great man and without his work we wouldn’t know half as much about Pokemon as we do today," I said doubtfully. I looked at the baby again, frowning slightly. Somehow the name suited him.

"Giovanni it is then," I said. "Giovanni Edwin Sakaki."

Chapter 3