People are what they experience in life; their behavior represents the sum of their experiences, from birth until death. Or at least, that's how I've come to understand it. I've seen people behave in very different ways, and at first I thought it was because of their DNA. Isn't everything about DNA? People look different, so they must be made of different DNA that makes them act differently.

I replicated my trainer once. He laughed and examined my likeness with delight, marveling at the transformative power of his prized Ditto. I was a flawless copier, and I knew it. But despite looking like the human boy that I'd come to know and love, I still didn't behave like him. I didn't think like him. And immediately it dawned upon me as to why. My trainer—Zack was his name—cried when he was homesick, because he missed his family. I never cried because I never had a family in the first place, so how could I feel sad about being away from it? Zack was happy when he saw bird Pokemon flying in the sky, because when he was a child his father took him flying on their pet Fearow every weekend. I had no such memory, so of course I would react differently to flying Pokemon.

That was it, I thought. Memories. People are more than just hunks of cells, elaborate fleshy husks controlled by vulnerable brain matter. The secret ingredient is memory. Memories are the programming that wires people together, what makes them ultimately who they are.

And if I could find a way to replicate those memories, only then could I make a truly flawless copy.

...

Zack was a trusting trainer, partly because he was so young and naïve, and partly because he treated his Pokemon like his friends. He didn't think it was fair to keep his companions inside the cramped, hot Pokeballs while he was out walking, eating, and sleeping, so we did everything together. There were only two of us—Abra and myself—but he treated us like family. We soaked in gorgeous hilltop vistas together. We slept in cozy huddles by a roaring campfire every night. We were inseparable.

One night, as I lay awake cushioning Zack's head with my gelatinous body, I stretched around to find Abra sitting by herself on the other side of the campfire. She was clearly not sleeping.

Abra? I whispered, Are you awake?

She hummed an affirmative sound in my cells. It was strangely remarkable how she could speak telepathically even to me, an oozing blob of genetic material with no defined brain. I stared at her face, her posture. She was completely unreadable, as usual.

Is something troubling you, friend?

I just couldn't sleep, was her reply.

I slid myself out from beneath Zack, who was by now snoring quietly, and transformed into an Abra myself, so I could communicate silently with her. Sidling up next to the fire beside her, I added, that's an unusual thing for you to say. You usually sleep so much.

Got a lot on my mind.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the fire contrasted with the cool of the night air around us. I could sense snippets of Zack's dreams in my quasi-Abra brain. They were happy dreams. Dreams of sledding back in his hometown. Zack was a happy child. Then, a thought occurred to me.

Abra, you can read minds, right?

Of course.

Can you read memories, as well?

She turned to me and opened her eyes partway. They were beautiful red eyes, like Kadabra eyes but less sinister. Then she closed them again and replied, I know what you are planning to do, Ditto. I've been reading your thoughts all morning, and that is what has been on my mind.

So you won't help me? I asked, dejected.

You will hurt yourself.

No, I smiled, I am good at copying.

I stood up and shuffled back over to Zack, plopping down next to his head. His dreams became louder, and I smiled to myself as his dream sled took off into the sky, soaring among flocks of glorious Fearow. I placed my Abra hand on his head and, for the first time, truly tapped into the psychic powers of the creature whose body I occupied.

Zack's thoughts hit me like a rush. It was overwhelming. Painfully overwhelming, like swallowing too much food in one gulp. The Fearow… his father… my father…

The last thing I remembered before the last of my mind succumbed to the rush of thoughts was the feeling of my body transforming into a human. I blacked out.