The streets of Driftveil City are peaceful and sparsely populated. A kid in a baseball cap dashes around quickly; a cop patrols at a measured rate. A golden ring full of glowing purple energy—a dimensional portal—appears briefly.
Not very, Kellim relays to Frank.
(His phone doesn't think those are real words in any language. Score for telepathy.)
She also sends a series of images of her own accord—Frank's own memory of getting a concussion playing football in high school, a Slowbro using Heal Pulse, the Pokemon Center down the street and around the corner, herself picking up Kyeo and carrying him.
(Kellim is more competent with human language than most Pokemon, with the exception of the Rotom in those new Rotom Phones, but it's still not natural to her. Fortunately, Frank does well at understanding her own preferred forms of psychic communication.)
"I bet you're seeing weird stuff, but I don't think you're hallucinating. I've seen that thing you came out of on the Internet, it's called a dimensional portal. They've had them overseas. If I'm right, it means you traveled universes. What are you seeing that's, uh, outside context?"
(Frank's phone still thinks Kyeo isn't speaking any known language.)
"I'd be fascinated to hear about how things work on your planet! If you have civilization without Pokemon, you must have all kinds of technology we don't.
—but, um, probably a higher priority is to make sure you have everything you need? You can stay in a room here in the Pokemon Center for two weeks; I could get one next to you for a few days so I can hang around with Kellim while you teach the machine translation programs your language."
"I think it'll be more than enough! Especially if we can get you a computer with a psychic interface so you can talk into it and have Kellim transmit the meanings of words at the same time. And when your time is up in the Pokemon Center, there are charities and government programs that can get you an apartment to stay in."
"I'm sorry. The portal closed after dumping you, and we can't yet open arbitrary portals at will, or locate your home dimension without an existing portal to work from. There are researchers working on the problem, but...if I were you, I would proceed under the assumption of being stuck here for at least a few years."
"They work in almost every industry! There are the types like Timburr and Machamp that are essential in logistics and construction because they're physically stronger than humans. There are the Water-types that can provide people clean water in almost any circumstances. Fire- and Electric-types are a key source of energy for the power grid. Transportation is a big thing—so much more of the world is accessible when you have a Pokemon with you that can fly or dive or climb over rocks. They're the great equalizer—the biggest strongest guys can't walk around confident in their ability to beat on everyone else when anyone can befriend a Pokemon.
But most of all, I think, because it would be lonely. It...doesn't sound like you relate to your 'animals' the way we do to our Pokemon. The hardest thing to imagine is just...living without their presence in my life."
"Well, sure, but—I read a story once about a world where there are no children. People would appear fully formed as adults, already knowing how to talk and do math and command Pokemon and so on.
The author thought that would be an obviously better world, because kids are smaller and more ignorant than adults and that leaves them vulnerable to being pushed around and taken advantage of. But it seems to me that a world is also missing out on something, compared to ours, if it has...fewer ways of being a person."
"It's complicated. Some say 'Pokemon are people' and by that they mean 'Pokeballs are slavery, Trainer-Pokemon bonds are sick and wrong, they'd all be better off back in the wild', and I don't agree with that.
They're thinking, feeling, decision-making entities. Hard to communicate with, hard to do right by, but conscious beings anyway. That's how I see it, and more or less how most people do.
Some of them can learn human language—Zoroark, Rotom, lots of Psychic-types—and when they do, they report having interactions with other Pokemon that rival the depth and complexity of those they have with humans."
"Types are a classification scheme for the techniques Pokemon use on each other in combat—they like to fight, it's one of the most overwhelming behavioral similarities across species. I think the underlying thing is that they like to win, really, and fighting is the most readily available form of competition.
Anyway, Pokemon themselves are said to have one or two types, based on which techniques they can use most effectively."
"Let me get our rooms! Then you can talk into a computer while Kellim supplies meanings to the psychic interface."
Frank walks away and briefly chats to a bureaucrat at a desk beside the nurse, then returns holding a plastic card and a USB stick out for Kyeo to take.
"This is your room key, you tap it on the door to open it, and this is the psychic interface, you plug it into the laptop in your room so Kellim can talk to it."
"You could start by reciting a text you have memorized, maybe a song or poem. Once it has a little to work with it can try to learn more vocabulary by showing you pictures and having you name them, and grammar by providing example sentences and having you mark them as grammatical or not.
Mind if I step out for a bit while you and Kellim work on this and make sure my schedule is freed up? My boss should be cool with a last-minute PTO request on the grounds of 'something really weird but not strictly policing-related came up and Kellim's unusual skill as a psychic bridge is needed', it's happened before, but my boyfriend will probably want some additional explanation of what's going on."
"See you in a bit, Kyeo."
Frank steps out. He's gone for about an hour; in that time, the machine translation program is able to get up to the level of a rudimentary phrasebook, sufficient for simple transactions and conveying that one doesn't speak the local language.
Frank knocks on the door as he returns.
Frank enters holding a phone. It's a different one from the one he had earlier.
"Got you one of my old phones to borrow until you have your own! It's pretty crappy but it can run the machine translation program, and it's got a prepaid card with a few hours of calls left on it. I can also get you a government ID made if I know your age, apparently being spat out here by a portal counts the same as being born here, for citizenship."
"For safety, the most important thing is not to leave the bounds of a city and go walking the routes until you have a Pokemon of your own. The gates of cities in Unova look like this," he shows a picture of a building on his phone, "so don't go through there without a Pokemon or a Trainer as an escort. If you wanna get to a different city without walking the routes, you can fly on a Pokemon or take a vehicle of some sort, we've got boats to Castelia and from there you can get about anywhere. Etiquette around Pokemon is...you give them the same amount of personal space you'd give a human, you've been giving me a normal amount. If you wanna pet one or give them a treat, you ask their Trainer if it's okay. Pokemon don't really mind being ignored, but if you wanna put a Trainer in a good mood and they have a Pokemon out, it doesn't hurt to ask the Pokemon's name or what it does."
"Nope! They tend to stick to their areas on the routes, mostly patches of tall grass and bodies of water. If any of them do try to bust into the city, the guards at the gates keep an eye out for them with cameras and the Gym Leader—uh, the local strongest Trainer—and his guys can do something about it."
"Sure, but they can still enjoy winning at different levels of intensity? Plus it's not like Gym Leaders deliberately command their Pokemon to make suboptimal tactical choices in badge challenges, I think that really would piss them off, they just have a pool of Pokemon and don't always use the strongest ones from the pool."
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Not Frank's business if he doesn't really see, though. He'll take his word for it.
"Anything else about Pokemon etiquette I can clear up? I'm sure there's stuff I'm missing, I don't think anyone's ever tried to explain our world to people who grew up without Pokemon before, but for the same reason I think people will be pretty forgiving if you tell them you're from another universe. If anything you might get some clout out of it, people think portals are cool and most haven't seen one in person."
"The skill of breeding is arranging situations where they wanna mate of their own accord! There are 'day cares' that are set up for the purpose, and Pokemon are classified into egg groups as a guide to compatible partners. Taming is a process that varies by individual and species, but a Pokemon that remains in a ball rather than breaking out almost always has sufficient respect for human society to not actively do any harm. Weak, inexperienced Pokemon will listen to orders from similarly weak and inexperienced Trainers, that's why weak and inexperienced ones are usually the ones handed out as starters."
"Ah, no, there are some researchers who argue that the word 'species' should be used for what we now call 'egg groups' and we should adopt a different term for Pokemon who look the same and emit the same vocalizations and use the same techniques, but it's never caught on with the general public."
"Um. For context. The furthest we've been is the Moon, and until now we weren't aware of any dimensions where people have gone further. I think you could make a lot of money talking to researchers, if you know anything of how your technology works.
How long has it been since, um, I don't even know what milestone to use. Since people in your world first split the atom?"
Frank whistles.
"It's been a little under a hundred years since we first split the atom. Less than that since the first moon landing and first personal computers. Even, like, the simplified lies-to-children explanation of your ships might tip our physicists off to which of their grand theories is correct, or there could be trace substances in your blood that inspire our chemists to create something cool—but you can think about whether to share stuff like that later, when you're more settled. You don't owe us anything just cause the portal spat you out here."