An Artificial Pokémon

  Published in Scientific Indigo, January 1995 Edition

  Excerpted from an exclusive interview with Silph Co. Lead Developer Dr. Gon Jeri

  Interviewer:

  “Five years have passed since the retirement of Samuel Oak—Champion of Indigo from 1961 to 1990.

  Under his leadership, the old Gym hierarchies have been reformed, Poké Ball production has been decentralized and subsidized, and Silph Co.—once a small tool manufacturer—has risen to become the beating heart of technological innovation in both Kanto and Johto.

  In cities and towns across the League, change has come swiftly: education is more accessible, Trainers are more diverse, and the tools once locked behind elite bloodlines are now found in the hands of the people.

  For many, Oak’s era marked the end of the old world. The fall of the clans, while mysterious to the public, was simply seen as a turning point.

  But the most ambitious development may have just arrived.

  A Pokémon has been created—not born.

  Its name is Porygon.

  And through it, the world is about to connect in ways never before imagined.

  Some hail it as a new evolutionary leap.

  Some fear it marks the end of what makes Pokémon… Pokémon.

  But all eyes are on the future.

  We sat down with Dr. Gon Jeri, lead researcher of the Porygon Project at Silph Co., to discuss the launch of this artificial Pokémon… and the hidden vision behind what is now being called The Porynet.”

  INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT (SELECTED EXCERPTS)

  Location: Silph Co. R&D Tower, Saffron City

  Date: December 21st, 1994

  Q: Let's start with the obvious. Is it true that Porygon is not... real?

  Dr. Gon Jeri: "Real is such a flexible term, isn’t it? If by real you mean made of cells, DNA, and skin? Then no, Porygon is not real.

  But if you mean a living creature, capable of growth, interaction, even learning? Then yes. Porygon is absolutely real.

  It is a Pokémon built not from nature, but from code."

  Q: So… where did Porygon begin? It couldn’t have just appeared overnight.

  Dr. Jeri: (smiling softly)

  “No. It started long before the labs and the League approval. Back when Ryder and I were roommates at Celadon University—cramped dorm, too many books, half the walls covered in schematics.

  Ryder was already obsessed with the intersection of biology and computation—what it would take to make something alive inside a machine.

  One night, he showed me this sketch he’d drawn—half creature, half interface. All hard lines and data ports. At the top, he’d written: ‘P.O.R.Y.’

  I asked him what it meant. He smiled—kind of sheepishly—and said, ‘Well, I was thinking of Portia... and me. Pory. Not a final name, just something to keep us focused.’

  Later he added the G-O-N when I joined the project full-time, after graduation. Said it wasn’t right without me in it too.

  So it became Porygon. Portia, Ryder, Gon.”

  Q: So it’s not just an acronym—it’s a memory.

  Dr. Jeri: (nodding)

  “Yeah. A memory and a promise.

  He didn’t want to just make a digital Pokémon. He wanted to make something that could connect—not just to data, but to people. To minds. To emotion.

  It’s their legacy. I was just the one who carried the torch.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Q: The tech world is calling Porygon the foundation of a 'new ecosystem.' Can you explain?

  Dr. Jeri: “It’s not just a Pokémon.

  Porygon isn’t meant to be a battle partner. It’s an interface.

  We’ve spent the last five years building what we’re calling the Porynet.

  Imagine it: a psychic-quantum lattice that links Silph Co. servers, public terminals, and data towers from all over Indigo. And the only species capable of navigating it? Porygon.

  They’re not just data couriers. They are navigators—born for a dimension we never had words for. Until now.”

  Q: So… a digital Pokémon made to traverse the digital world?

  Dr. Jeri: “Exactly. It was Ryder’s idea: what if the next great frontier of exploration wasn’t another region… but a new reality?

  The Porynet is that reality. A vast, semi-psychic plane built from data, thoughts, coded intent. And Porygon are the explorers. The builders. The bridge between our minds and that space.”

  Q: What does Professor Samuel Oak think about this?

  Dr. Jeri: (softly)

  “He’s the reason it exists.

  After Ryder died… and after Portia—” (he pauses, the weight of her name still too heavy after all these years) “—after she fell into that coma… Sam didn’t just keep the lights on. He shielded the project. Funded it. Gave us access to Silph. Made sure no one buried the work just because the dreamers were gone.”

  (He leans forward slightly, voice quieter but firmer now.)

  “But it wasn’t just grief.

  Sam believes—no, he knows—this is the next step for Indigo.

  He sees the Porynet not just as a network, but as a frontier. A space where humans and Pokémon might truly connect—not just through commands, but through shared cognition. Shared space. A bridge between species, not just between machines.”

  Q: A bridge to what, exactly?

  Dr. Jeri:

  “To each other. To the regions.

  The Porynet doesn’t just link terminals—it could link cultures. Kanto to Johto. Johto to Hoenn. Hoenn to the world.

  Sam used to say, ‘We tamed the land with roads. We conquered the air with flight. Now… let’s see what we can do with thought.’”

  Q: And what do you say to those who call this heresy? Who say a Pokémon without a soul… is an abomination?

  Dr. Jeri: (smiles, but not dismissively)

  “I say—look closer.

  Watch how a child talks to their first Porygon.

  How it tilts its head. How it tries to mimic kindness.

  How it gets things wrong, then tries again.

  Is that not soul? Or the start of one?

  We’ve spent decades believing that a Pokémon must be born, must have a mother, a forest, an origin we recognize. But what if that was just… habit?

  Voltorb and Electrode—those didn’t come from eggs. They were Poké Balls exposed to unstable energy fields. Accidents. But no one questions their status now.

  Baltoy was shaped by human hands—literal clay, animated by ancient rituals and intent. The Grimer line? They were born from our cities’ runoff and waste. And yet, they live. They evolve. They bond.

  So tell me—where does life begin? With biology? Or with connection?”

  (He pauses, eyes distant for a beat.)

  “Ryder used to say: ‘If something can choose loyalty, it belongs in this world.’

  That’s what Porygon is doing.

  It’s choosing to help us.”

  As the interview winds down, Dr. Jeri reaches for a Pokéball at his side. Not with ceremony—just familiarity. Like he’s done it a hundred times before.

  He opens it with a soft press.

  A flicker of white light resolves into shape—a gleaming, pink-and-blue figure with sharp angles and smooth surfaces. Porygon. Its eyes blink into focus like twin screens warming up, and soft pulses of colored light shimmer across its polygonal body.

  It turns first to Jeri. Tilts its head. Emits a sound—quiet, melodic, like static gently reshaping itself into tone.

  Then it floats forward—not stiff, not mechanical, but with curiosity. Studying the room, the people, the silence.

  Dr. Jeri smiles. “Don’t worry. He’s shy around strangers.”

  The Porygon bobs once in the air. A pulse of faint blue light travels across its surface—then yellow. Then back to blue. Its tones shift in rhythm. Not speech, not quite—but a pattern. Intent.

  Jeri tilts his head, listening. Then chuckles. “He’s wondering if you’re nervous.”

  The interviewer blinks. “How did you… know?”

  “We’ve developed a lexicon for his tones,” Jeri says. “Some are instinctual. Others are learned. Think of it as… early language. Emotional resonance mapped to structured sound. He doesn’t speak human words, not yet. But he’s learning how communication works.”

  Porygon glides back toward Jeri and hovers close, its eyes flickering like twin cursors syncing with a familiar signal. It lets out a slow, soft harmonic hum—one that makes the nearby table’s digital screen gently flicker in response.

  Jeri reaches up and taps a point just behind its head—a spot that seems to trigger a visible, almost affectionate pulse of violet light along its neck.

  “He does this when I come back from late nights,” Jeri says, his voice quiet. “When he hears my voice in the hall. Like he’s… glad I’m back.”

  The interviewer says nothing. Just watches.

  And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like a machine in the room.

  It feels like the beginning of something—tentative, strange, beautiful.

  Porygon hums again—three soft tones this time, spaced like syllables but not quite words. Jeri listens, and smiles.

  “He’s asking if he can stay out a little longer. He likes the lights in here.”

  He looks up.

  “They remind him of the Porynet.”

  A long pause. The quiet hum of circuitry. The sense of a page turning in human history—not loudly, but with a whisper.

  “He’s still learning,” Jeri says softly. “But aren’t we all?”