//------------------------------//
// Chapter 32: Tour of Wabash part 1 
// Story: Pandemic: Starting Over 
// by Halira 
//------------------------------//

Malcolm Tibbs looked around in confusion, then turned to face Number Crunch. "Hey, you said that Sunset Blessing and her family were moving in. These ponies look nice enough, but I don't see Sunset Blessing or Phobia Remedy, and that night pony colt doesn't look six or seven years old." He turned briefly to me. "No offense to you, madam. It was just that I was told someone else was coming."

Number smirked. "Take a look at the mark on the pony you just apologized to."

He turned back towards me and gave me a closer look; then his eyes went wide. "Oh! I see the mark now, not one that would be common. I suppose you could be her, with a fur dye, but there are still a few reasons for me to doubt."

This was a change of pace. For the first time, I had someone doubt my identity. "If you are looking for my daughter and her family, they aren't the family that was referenced. These are my… these are Yinyu Wu Yan's foals. She has entrusted them into my care."

He looked at the five foals again. His eyes lingered on Lántiān's mark for several seconds with him frowning, before he turned back to me. "I suppose that is believable, but it still leaves one matter that doesn't line up."

I arched an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"Your magic," he replied. "Sunset Blessing is known to be well below average for her PREQUES number; a lower two from what I heard, while you register a pretty even three. That isn't particularly strong, very run-of-the-mill, really, but it is several times more powerful than she is reported to be."

I pursed my lips. "I don't mean to be rude, but you're misreading it since there is no way I'm a three."

"I can read magic power levels quickly and accurately; it's what my mark is for," He replied briskly, then turned and started pointing at the others. "Number Crunch there is a low four, the older pegasus filly is a high three, the unicorn colt I reliably put at one-point-eight, one-point-six for the earth pony, one-point-three for the night pony, and a zero-point-nine for the pegasus toddler. The foals are all still young and growing, so I expect them to be low and rise with age, but adults, especially older adults, don't typically change too much. You're too strong to be Sunset Blessing."

I wanted to argue and protest, but the pragmatic part of my brain decided to kick in. Instead, I smiled at him. "You've got us. There's no fooling you. None of us, except Number Crunch, are who we say we are. We're all convincing body doubles, and Yinyu's real foals and the real Sunset Blessing are all in a secure undisclosed location."

Lántiān stomped her hoof. "Ma'am! I am no body-"

I clamped her mouth shut with my magic. "No point in arguing, Bright Sunshine-" Her eyes bulged at the name I made up for her. "-the gentlestallion is onto us. He's too smart." I turned back towards him. "I do ask that you still treat us as the roles we're playing. It wouldn't do for you to blow our cover, now would it?"

He stood up straight. "Of course, this must be some deep government protection program. I'll do my part. From this moment on, I'll treat you like the real Sunset Blessing. Won't even ask your real name or hint that you're anyone else than her."

I released Lántiān's mouth and nodded to the handypony as Lántiān gave me a look that could kill. "Thank you, Mister Tibbs."

He nodded. "No problem, Sunset Blessing, and please, call me Malcomb. Make sure to pronounce it Mal-comb and not Mal-com."

"I'll make sure of it, Malcomb," I replied. "Now, can you please show us around our new home?"

He nodded, turned, and motioned for us to follow him in. I hurried over to Lántiān and whispered to her. "Just go with it. It's another line of protection for us. Don't argue about it."

She glared at me. "As you wish, ma'am. Please, don't call me that fake name ever again."

I nodded and started walking into the building, pausing only long enough to see if everyone was following. They were, although Number looked highly amused as she followed. The SPEC agents followed as well, and they looked mildly confused. That was good. If anyone's tongues wagged, then that would leak the false information that we were fakes. If everyone researching us came to the conclusion we were just a decoy, then they wouldn't bother us. I would love to have more powerful magic than I did, but that half-blind crystal pony misreading it was a lucky break. 

We entered, single-file, through the door and got our first look at the inside of the house. 

The entrance hall was a large room with two curved staircases leading up to the second floor, which were joined by a landing connecting to hallways at either end. Hallways were leading left and right on the current floor as well, and ahead of us was a painting of a mustached human man in a bowler hat with a woman in an elaborate gown surrounded by four hounds with a backdrop of trees. To either side of the painting were two other doors, one which was closed, and the other led into a brightly lit room with a large dining table. All the walls were done up with wood paneling, and there were candle sconces—which had been converted to electric lighting with the small candle bulbs—set every four feet or so along the wall, as well as a few small tables pushed against the walls here and there. The floors were all hardwood with narrow Persian rugs run along walkways. A large chandelier hung overhead. All the lights were off, but the room was being flooded by light from the two large rectangular windows high above us. 

"Welcome to the main foyer and heart of the house," Malcomb announced as he gestured around. "The closed door over there leads down to the basement with the furnace. I've cleaned out most of the random junk down there, along with the majority of non-essential items from the west-wing, and moved them all to storage in the east-wing. I would recommend keeping all the foals and guests out of the east-wing unless supervised. There's a lot of priceless and delicate antiques in storage there. Sunset, I'll walk you through what's over there sometime soon since it is part of our duty to make sure we don't lose any of it."

I was technically the housekeeper for this place, so it followed that I had a list of duties "I'll make sure the foals stay out of that wing."

Malcomb nodded. "The door down here for the east-wing is locked, and later I have a copy of the key to give you. The upstairs hallway doesn't have a door, but I put up a secure child gate already. The staircase that leads to the third floor is just out of sight from here if you take a few steps down the upstairs hallway." He gestured to the open door to the side of the painting. "If you follow me, this way leads to the dining room, which connects to the kitchen. The agents can leave your belongings here since I'd rather they weren't all walking through the house with us." 

My ears picked up the sound of rhythmic tapping and pounding that had been going on quietly in the background since we entered. It was coming from the upstairs. "What is that sound I'm hearing? Is someone else here?"

He paused. "Oh, that… don't worry about that. No one else is here. I do a magic search of the house twice a day to find any ponies that tried to sneak in—found only three over the last few years, one that snuck in through the window of the attic and two others in the buildings outside. This house is old, though, and makes a lot of noise. There's always boards creaking, foundation settling, and the furnace can sound awful when it's on. That tapping you're hearing is the sound of the doors upstairs when a breeze is coming through the windows. I opened several windows this morning to help air the place out a little. The doors will rock on their hinges and repeatedly hit their frames when a breeze comes through. You learn to tune it out."

"Lovely," I muttered. This meant listening to noise all night long. I knew why the foyer was called the heart of the house; it sounded like it was beating. I could hear a light breeze blowing through the halls as if the house was taking in a deep breath. 

Just as Malcomb was about to walk through the door to the dining room, it slammed shut, right on his face. The rest of us jumped back in surprise as the crystal pony started cursing.

"Oww! Dammit! Stupid doors, always slamming shut!" Malcomb yelled as he rubbed his nose. 

I looked at Number to see if she had used her magic to slam the door and saw her doing the same with me. She shrugged, and the two of us looked at Shǔguāng for good measure, but he looked just looked spooked. 

"Is this a regular occurrence?" I asked as Malcomb stood back up and began opening the door again. 

He turned his head back and gave me a confused look. "What? Oh, yes, it is. It was my fault. I must have forgotten to put the doorstop in place when hurrying out to meet you. It's the same as that banging upstairs—a little breeze and doors will slam shut on you."

"That's going to have the foals on edge," I replied. "Is there anything to be done about it?"

He shook his head. "Not really. These doors are all original, and replacing them is out of the question. I can maybe see about making their hinges stiffer, so they aren't so easy to move, but I have to be careful, or I might damage something. They'll get used to it. This place will get into your head, making you imagine ghosts and goblins, but it's just old, that's all. There ain't nothing to be afraid of here."

I walked up to the stallion and put my mouth up to his ear to whisper. "These foals fled armed guards that were literally hunting them not even a full week ago. I'm not sure if there was gunfire since they haven't shared too many details about that day, but I don't rule it out. They may have flashbacks that I would rather avoid if they hear bangs."

He gave me a doubting look. "You're really playing this part to the hilt."

"My role is to make sure these foals are well taken care of, and that means being mindful of their unfortunate circumstances. Please, do something to minimize the slams and bangs, Mister Tibbs," I said in my most authoritarian voice. 

He sighed. "Okay, I'll see what I can do." He opened the door and fetched a doorstop to hold open the door—a small wrought-iron lion that looked like it might have once been a bookend.

We progressed into the dining room. There was a long table in the center, and I counted a dozen chairs. The wall in front of us had two large windows that looked out to a far more well kept part of the property grounds, and the wall to our right had a fireplace as well as a large piano that looked too new to go with the rest of the property—since it had a power cord plugged into the wall. The wall to the left had some small narrow tables I imagined were for setting food aside and a painting of the original owner's dogs hanging above with a backdrop of what looked like a stable. Another closed door was located on the far end of the left wall. 

"A piano!" Shǔguāng shouted in excitement. "Can Sister play it for us?"

"Please!" Líng shouted in turn.

Mèng looked at his brothers, then the piano, then stared up at his sister with big pleading eyes. "Please!"

"Not right now, and I'm not sure if ma'am would approve of it anyway," Lántiān replied. I blinked as I thought I caught a hint of a blush on her face.

"You play the piano?" I asked.

She didn't meet my eyes. "Mother insisted that I learn to play an instrument, ma'am. She had a passion for music. I took piano lessons for several years. She seemed… pleased with my ability. It is not my passion, but I do enjoy it."

I looked back at Malcomb. "That doesn't seem to be an antique, at least not in terms of what qualifies as an antique in this house. Is it functional and usable?"

He nodded. "Yeah, a leftover from the last owners. From what I understand, there was an antique piano that used to be in this room, but the children played on it often, and the owner moved it elsewhere and bought this for regular use. It still works perfectly fine. It's expensive because it's a big electric piano, but it's not something Miss Growth would likely care too much about."

I glanced back at the piano. "How long has this place been without occupants? I'd assumed ages, but that piano says otherwise."

"Not too terribly long," he replied. "Last owners went and took off around the time of ETS—probably are a bunch of ponies living out in some farming village now. The house sat vacant for about a year until it was declared an abandoned property like so many other places after ETS. A historical society group bought it at auction and hired me to take care of the place, but they had some money trouble and weren't able to open this place for tours like they wanted, and ended up selling it to Miss Growth quite recently."

"Did the kids here have toys? Are the toys still here?" Shǔguāng asked eagerly.

Malcomb smiled. "Yeah, they had toys. We have them mostly in storage right now. There may still be some stray ones about the rest of the house. I remember about three years ago walking into this very room and tripping over a toy fire engine. I never did figure out how it ended up in the middle of a walkway I'd been through hundreds of times. I thought we had a squatter, but I searched the place top to bottom after that and found no trace of anyone."

"If no squatter, how did it just suddenly appear somewhere it hadn't been?" I asked. This made me wonder how reliable a searcher of intruders this pony was. 

He shrugged. "It was battery-powered, and the batteries seemed almost dead. Toys that have dying batteries will sometimes do odd things. I figured it was in the corner under something before, and I never noticed or paid attention. When the batteries were dying, it might have done one last run."

I couldn't deny that was quite possible, but it still strained possibility, in my opinion. "Have there been other incidents like that one?"

He shook his head. "Naw, just that one time. It was just a fluke thing. If it happened more than once, I'd worry, but it has only happened once, and it was three years ago."

Maybe it was just a fluke incident. If it had been squatters or burglars that were here, they were long gone. They also were unlikely to appear again if it was apparent the house was being lived in again. 

I turned towards my eldest charge. "You can try out the piano later tonight, after dinner. I highly doubt there is a house speaker system that I can play a recording of violin music on, so your siblings hearing you play the piano shortly before bed might be the best alternative we have."

She bowed her head. "I understand, ma'am."

Malcomb opened the next door and put the twin to the doorstop in place at the next door.  led the way to the next room. "If you follow me, we can look at the kitchen."

We followed him in, and I gaped at the size of the kitchen. It was the biggest kitchen I'd ever seen in a house. It was definitely bigger than the one back in my old mansion, and I was reasonably sure it was larger than the one in Wild's estate. The wall to our right had two large windows to let in light and a door exiting into the backyard. Out those windows, I could see a well-maintained garden and two side buildings—one that looked like the stable seen in the dining room's painting, and the other looked like it might be Malcomb's small dwelling. 

The other three walls were primarily covered with counter space, with a few breaks in the counters. There were three stoves; two sat side by side and looked relatively new, the third was an old pot-bellied stove that sat off in a corner near the window. There was a new refrigerator a short distance from more contemporary stoves, and the sink was installed in a central island in the middle of the room. All the counters and most of the cabinets were too high for a pony to use comfortably, but someone—assumably Malcomb, had put small metal steps in different locations to climb up onto the counters and island. The walls in the kitchen lacked the wood paneling found elsewhere and were instead done in brick, painted white. The counters and cabinets were well-polished and finished wood—cherry if I didn't mistake my guess. There was a final closed door leading back into the direction of the main house.

"Everything in the kitchen is new, aside from that antique in the corner. Please, don't attempt to use the antique stove," Malcomb announced. There aren't any pots, pans, or cups here, not any silverware. All of those things have been moved into storage. I'm not sure what ones are antique and what ones aren't,  so it is best to keep them in storage. You'll need to supply your own cookware and utensils, the same with food."

It seemed like another night of delivery, and I'd need to hurry to get the necessary supplies for the kitchen. 

"I'll do a little shopping trip for you today," Number offered. "Just don't complain about my choices. I'll be doing them as a gift on my dime. I know Wild will be paying for just about everything you need, but I want to give you a gift on my own."

"Thank you, Number," I gratefully replied. I then looked at the other door. "Is that the pantry, Malcomb?"

He walked over to it and opened it, revealing a staircase going down. "Yes and no. It's an entrance to a pantry cellar. I need to fix the light in the stairwell—which I might need your assistance using your horn since it is out of my reach and ladders on stairs are just not safe. To describe it without taking you down there, it's rectangular and about a hundred square feet in size with some wooden cabinets and shelves. It has another door that leads into the main cellar as well. I don't recommend using it, though, because it just smells musty and is unneeded with only a small family here. I stay out of it because it's dark, and the stairs have an odd curve to them that it's easy to trip on. Now that there are foals in the house, we might want just to have this particular door locked to avoid any potential accidents on the stairs."

I could barely make out the stairs from where I stood. "That is advisable. I don't want any of the foals getting injured. 

Number levitated her phone back out as Malcomb was closing the door to the stairwell. Her eyes went wide, and she hurriedly put the phone away. "I'm sorry, Sunset. I'm needed elsewhere. I've been taking greater and greater control of SPEC's operations the last few weeks because Wild is gearing up for a congressional run."

I blinked. "I thought she wasn't interested in getting into politics."

Number shrugged. "Times change and her circumstances have as well. She's no longer able to go out and make a difference with her powers, so now she's forced to find other ways of making a difference. I think you can appreciate that. We're all looking to redefine ourselves after everything that has happened."

I walked over to her and hugged her. "That we are."

She hugged me in return. "I'll be back by with kitchen utensils and food for you; it just may be later this evening. Take care of yourself, Sunset."

"I shall. Take care of yourself too, and Wild. That mare tries to do too much for others sometimes," I replied as I released her. 

She chuckled. "Yeah, she doesn't know when to say enough is enough, but I love that about her. She never stops trying to help. I'll see you later. Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye," I replied and watched her hurry back out the way we came. 

Malcomb waited till Number left before speaking. "Are you ready to see the living area and where your rooms will be?"

I nodded. "Yes, let's get on with it."