//------------------------------// // Chapter 39: Deliver // Story: Brother Against Sister // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// Day Two After King Blueblood’s Poisoning, Sundown The vast fields of Neighbraska stretched out, barren and harvested for the year. There were few lights in the New Moon night, except for the occasional flickering lantern from a farmhouse. Otherwise, it was a flat dirt ocean. General Top Brass and five hundred of the most gifted unicorn telekinetics, along with a few dozen others, walked along the road, making as little noise as possible. These telekinetics had helped bring the moon above Cloudsdale in order to force a ceasefire after the beginning of the war. This was before Equestria had assembled a larger army of telekinetics of their own to counteract this. If King Blueblood tried the moon trick again, it wouldn’t work now. But this trick would, assuming they were undetected. Just like Blueblood, General Top Brass refused either to surrender or to let his people starve. Since the pegasi had destroyed the unicorns’ chance for self-sufficiency this year, they had to improvise. Thankfully, this area of the prairie appeared unguarded. The battalion came upon a large grain silo on the roadside. It was aluminum and ten meters tall, and about twenty meters in circumference. There were many such silos all around, enough to feed Top Brass’ army for months. They would keep fighting and secure even more farmland and silos to feed Canterlot. He silently motioned to one of his unicorns, who lifted the silo from the ground, assisted by nine others. Though each of these unicorns was capable of levitating an entire grain silo by himself, they didn't want to put too few unicorns on a single silo, lest they become too tired for the trip back. This group started walking back to the front lines with the stolen grain, just as another group of ten unicorns plucked another grain silo from the ground about a kilometer down the road. This continued in a similar fashion until fifty silos floated above the battalion. General Top Brass motioned the troops back towards Second Kingdom territory. Suddenly, there was a burst of gunfire. The unicorns stood still, not wanting to drop their silos. Thankfully, the General had anticipated there being a few Equestrian guards, and ordered the fifty unencumbered guards of his own to open fire. They pointed their silenced weapons to the sky and fired at the shadowy pegasi above. A few of them fell to the ground. Top Brass wasn’t sure, and it might have been because of the dark, but it didn’t look like they were wearing any military uniforms. Suddenly, there was an explosion as a grenade burst next to one of the grain silos. Highly flammable grain set alight, bursting the silo open with a tremendous boom as the other unicorns floated their own silos out of the way. Several unicorns fell to the ground, hit with shrapnel or flaming grain. A sweet smell like baking bread filled the air. Gunfire erupted all around, as the unicorns had to fire around the floating silos to avoid puncturing them. The attackers, meanwhile, didn’t care, and blew up three more silos, riddling many others with bullet holes, making grain trickle out. Top Brass commanded, “Get the silos back into our territory!” The unicorns ran against an onslaught of bullets. They sprinted, their horns glowing brightly as they struggled to move their cargo along with them. The return fire was somewhat successful, hitting several of the pegasi. Seven more silos exploded, while the telekinetics dropped ten of them in the confusion. One unicorn put up a forcefield around the remaining thirty silos, preventing the gunfire and grenades from going through for a minute. This gave a small group of unicorn snipers outside the forcefield the chance to pick off some of the pegasi, until the incoming fire and grenades shattered the forcefield. It was just three klicks to go until they reached SK territory. There were planes and anti-air weaponry stationed there. It would provide them with cover fire to offload the grain. Many empty trucks and carts waited for them, that they would speed off in and deliver the grain to Canterlot. Two klicks to go. The hail of bullets hit the dirt, kicking dust up. The unicorn telekinetics still held their burdens, now reduced to twenty-five silos. But the assault had let up some. In a few minutes, the gunfire had stopped entirely. “Good work, stallions! We forced their retreat!” Top Brass called. They all cheered, not bothering to be quiet anymore. Their celebration was premature, though, as a low droning noise filled the air a minute later. Against the black sky, Top Brass spotted an even blacker dot which occasionally blocked out a star before moving on. It was headed towards them, and getting louder. He narrowed his eyes. Pegasi didn’t make that noise unless they were flying very fast. Fast enough to break the sound barrier. Fast enough… His horn brightened with an illumination spell as he searched the ground. He found one of the fallen pegasi. Sure enough, the pegasus was wearing no uniform. Instead, he had a light blue t-shirt, the same shade as the sky on the Equestrian flag. Top Brass quickly rummaged through the shirt pocket and found a business card inside. “Equestrians For Action.” This wasn’t an army; this was a militia. The general knew that the ponies who had salted the fields, who President Lightning Dust was supposed to arrest in Cloudsdale, had escaped. But the Cloudsdale Loyalty Committee hadn’t disbanded: it had reformed into this new group, keeping the same members. This included the pony he now realized was Pound Cake, less than a minute from the ground, the loud droning turning into a rumbling as the white cone of the sonic rainboom started to form. “Retreat! Drop the grain silos; teleport back to Equestria!” shouted Top Brass. Bright flashes peppered the field as his soldiers started disappearing. The silos landed to the ground with thuds, way too large to teleport along. But nearly half of the soldiers remained. Either they hadn’t heard Brass’ order over the loud droning, or they couldn’t teleport. Many had focused exclusively on telekinesis and had never bothered learning teleportation, or were only able to travel short distances. Just as the sonic rainboom erupted, the General teleported himself. He got about two kilometers away, just behind the front lines of the Second Kingdom where the grain delivery trucks sat. Right as he rematerialized, he was knocked on his flank by the shockwave from the explosion of not just the sonic rainboom, but the many grain silos that were set off. Orange and yellow mixed with the usual vibrant hues of the rainbow, and he rushed for cover behind a truck. The telekinetics who had teleported after Top Brass were thrown by the shockwave, some landing on the sides of trucks, others in the dirt. Aluminum shrapnel from the exploded silos flew everywhere, wounding ponies further. The trucks were flung over, some flying a few meters. Top Brass was lucky that the truck he hid behind still stood upright. “Take cover!” he shouted over the ringing in his ears, the screaming of his wounded and confused troops, and the continual booms of silos which had only just caught fire and were exploding off in the distance one by one in a chain reaction. He might as well have been whispering. The explosions finally subsided a few minutes later, and Top Brass surveyed his battalion. Three-hundred had perished. One hundred were wounded, fifty critically. They suffered from shrapnel wounds from the exploded metal silos. The able-bodied telekinetics turned the grain trucks right-side-up and loaded their comrades inside. Rather than carrying a bounty back to Canterlot, the trucks would carry dozens of wounded. On the ride back, Top Brass’s head was spinning from the explosion, but also with questions. This was a clandestine operation, and not even the soldiers knew the specifics until that very night. Who had alerted this ‘EFA?’ They couldn’t have just happened to all be in the area with guns and grenades for an attack: the prairies were huge and contained several Equestrian states: Neighbraska, Manesas, Oklaroama, Neighowa. They would have had to know to patrol the front lines around Neighbraska in particular. But how? Somepony must have been feeding the Equestrians information about SK military plans. This debacle, plus the EQAF invasion of Mareicopa just as the internment was kicking off, had conclusively proven it to Top Brass. There was a traitor, likely at a high level. His only question was who. Pound Cake shook his head as he flew back towards Fillydelphia with the remainder of his battalion. They were all cheering for their victory, but he couldn’t help thinking it was pyrrhic. For one, they’d had fifteen casualties. His militia members were supposed to have flown high enough to avoid any sniper fire. They should’ve used grenades only, firing their guns only if absolutely necessary. The muzzle flashes from their reckless fire gave away their positions. So they had lost ponies, and were unable to destroy all of the grain silos with grenades. Pound had to take out the rest by himself, which wasn’t originally planned. Most of the ponies who had come on this mission with him had never been in combat before: they’d merely been glorified delivery colts, helping Pound carry salt carts. Some of them were new and hadn’t even done that. Perhaps their rookie mistakes could be forgiven since they weren’t had little or no experience, and hadn’t received military training as Pound Cake had from General Spitfire. Perhaps Pound had himself to blame for not choosing more competent ponies for this mission, but he hadn’t had time to vet anypony since it was so last minute. A lot of the more competent combat veterans from the old Loyalty Committee group were still trying to sneak their belongings and loved ones out of Cloudsdale, so he couldn’t get in touch with them. Hopefully, the clumsiness of this mission hadn’t revealed that Pound Cake had insider information about the night and location of the incursion. Surely there had been ponies live to tell about the sonic rainboom, and it would have to be a pretty big coincidence for Pound to have just happened to have been in the area by chance. But perhaps it wouldn’t matter. Blueblood was going to die, at least Pound was 99% sure, judging by the invisible mare’s tacit silence. The SK army’s last ditch effort to capture grain silos had failed. Whether the enemy knew that Pound had insider information or not, the Second Kingdom was still about to become very tumultuous in the next few weeks. They’d be desperate, starving, and leaderless. Day Three After the Poisoning, Morning The chemical fumes of cleaning agents filled the hallways of Saint Prancis Mareicopa, one of the city’s main hospitals. The whitewashed halls were lit by bright lights. Doctors in white lab coats hustled down the halls. Nurses and lab technicians in green scrubs pushed trams along. Most staff were earth ponies; a few were pegasi and unicorns. Every so often, a group of nurses would run towards a room to a hollering patient. All around, urgent voices of the doctors and nurses poured out from every room, along with occasional moans of pain from patients. “I need 10 CCs of hypomipotal, stat!” “Clear!... Clear!” As she walked down the halls, Pumpkin thought back to Club Copa, comparing it with the hospital. Both were loud, smelly, and frantic. Why did the partisans in this city have to work at such hectic places, with such strict security? To get into this part of the hospital, Pumpkin Cake donned her Red Velvet coloring and snuck into the laundry room, taking green scrubs to wear so that it looked like she worked here. Finally, Pumpkin reached the wing of the hospital she was looking for: the trauma ward. Unicorns from the Second Kingdom’s army were taken here for treatment when they were injured beyond what the battlefield medics could treat, and when the hospitals in Canterlot were full, which they often were. Every room in the ward was crammed, housing four patients. Vinyl Scratch had told Pumpkin that the military injured had displaced most room for civilians. “Don’t get sick in Copa,” Vinyl had warned. The only civilian areas of the hospital left were non-trauma related, in areas that the doctors were so specialized that they couldn’t simply be reassigned. They included fields such as immunology, oncology, and gynecology. Pumpkin Cake strolled the halls, looking into each doorway, seeing if she could find the pony she was looking for. Thankfully, all employees had name tags, so she didn’t have to ask any questions and draw unnecessary suspicion. But after about thirty minutes of searching around, she began to lose hope. What if the Second Kingdom had already arrested the partisan she was looking for? But she saw a ghostly white earth mare pass her by, with a pink mane, blue eyes, and a red cross cutie mark. She looked to be in her mid-forties. “Nurse Redheart?” said Pumpkin Cake. The nurse glanced over at her. “Yes, what is it, um…” her eyes searched for Pumpkin’s nametag, but she wasn’t wearing it. “Red Velvet,” said Pumpkin Cake. “I’m a brand new intern here. We need to talk.” “About what?” asked Redheart. Pumpkin quickly thought of a lie. “I was told to shadow you on your rounds today.” Nurse Redheart groaned. “Typical hospital admin, not telling me these things. But it’s their fault, not yours. I’m about to take a lunch, though. You know where the cafeteria is yet?” Redheart reached the end of the line in the hospital cafeteria, paid for her meal, and sat next to Pumpkin Cake, who was already seated at a table off in the corner, far away from the closest other pony. Redheart grabbed her sandwich and took a bite. Pumpkin Cake lowered her head and glanced around, ensuring nopony was watching or listening. “You’re in danger, Nurse Redheart,” whispered Pumpkin Cake. “Your name is on a list of anti-Second Kingdom partisans. If you don’t hide, they’ll kill or arrest you.” If there were any color in Nurse Redheart’s face to begin with, it surely would have drained. Her eyes widened, but only for a brief second, and then she regained her composure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, smiling. “I work in the trauma ward healing Second Kingdom soldiers. When I’m not doing that, I help in the maternity ward delivering unicorn newborns. If I weren’t an inferior earth pony, I’d be a model unicorn citizen. I’m grateful that the SK can benefit from my skills in medicine despite my handicap.” Redheart grabbed her sandwich and took a bite, as Pumpkin visibly cringed at this self-deprecating talk. Was this how all earth ponies and pegasi in the Second Kingdom talked just so that suspicion wouldn’t fall on them? “Being an earth pony isn’t a handicap,” Pumpkin said. “Yeah, right. What will you tell me next, that everypony is ‘special in their own way?’” Nurse Redheart groaned, glancing down at her tray. “Would you want to be an earth pony? Would you like to use your hooves or mouth for every task instead of using telekinesis, or have to walk everywhere instead of teleport?” Pumpkin didn’t even have to think about that one. She couldn’t lie. “No.” “Then it’s a handicap, Miss Velvet.” Pumpkin shook her head. “Never mind, but whatever you’ve done, you’re on a hit list.” Redheart narrowed her eyes, her voice rising slightly. “I told you, I’m not a partisan! If this is another loyalty test by the hospital admin to see if I’ll admit to something, you can drop the act, now. I haven’t done anything illegal, and you’re a terrible actress. You’re brand new here and you’re ‘shadowing’ me? We don’t let new interns at St. Prancis shadow; we have them clean up vomit and empty out bedpans for months first.” Pumpkin glanced around nervously. Thankfully, it didn’t look like anypony was looking in their direction. “You’re right, Nurse, I’m not a real intern. Because I’m a partisan myself.” Redheart chuckled. “Wow, they’re really having you follow all the way through, huh? Okay, Miss ‘Partisan,’ what is your real name?” “Pumpkin Cake.” Redheart laughed hard. “Oh, you are, huh? The one who can walk through walls, who they’re all so terrified of? ‘Magically armed and dangerous killer, could be anywhere at anytime.’ You’re on the wanted posters and everything?” She nodded. Redheart quipped, “Sure you’re Pumpkin Cake, and I’m Octavia the maestro. If you were really Pumpkin Cake, every SK official in this hospital would be dead already. Who put you up to this, anyway? Was it Doctor Stethoscope?” “I can prove it,” said Pumpkin Cake, glancing around yet again, seeing that they hadn’t caught anypony’s attention in the cafeteria. Then, once she ensured that nopony was watching, she stuck her hoof through the tabletop to demonstrate. Nurse Redheart grinned. “That’s a fancy trick; I admit. But I’ll bet that your hoof didn’t actually pass through that table. It’s sleight of hoof, an illusion: like when a stage magician saws a pony in half.” Pumpkin Cake sighed. As an earth pony, Nurse Redheart must have been put through all sorts of elaborate loyalty tests by her supervisors before, so much so that she didn’t believe anypony who tried to get her to admit to anything. “What do I have to do to prove it?” asked Pumpkin Cake. “Something that would otherwise be impossible,” said Nurse Redheart as she finished up her meal. She stood up from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.” Pumpkin Cake followed Nurse Redheart through the hallway, her mind racing. She had to convince Redheart that she was Pumpkin Cake instead of a Second Kingdom agent, or else Redheart wouldn’t believe that she was in danger, wouldn’t go into hiding, and would be caught by an actual Second Kingdom agent. Ironically, as much time as Pumpkin had spent disguising herself and ensuring nopony in Mareicopa could see her true identity, now she needed to convince Redheart of exactly that. Redheart passed by a sign and through a doorway indicating that they had entered the maternity ward. “This is the maternity ward. Though you’ve probably seen it before, ‘intern,’” said Nurse Redheart. “What do you do here?” asked Pumpkin Cake. “I help to deliver babies, what do you think?” asked Redheart. “I mean, what are your duties?” asked Pumpkin. “All sorts of things. Keeping the patient hydrated, checking dilation, assisting the doctors in routine duties. Sometimes, I’ll administer morphine, but lately, the Second Kingdom troops take our whole supply of painkillers. They deserve them, of course.” An announcement came over the speakers, and Redheart’s head jolted up. “Sorry, Velvet, but the charade is over; I’m needed elsewhere.” Nurse Redheart headed down the long hallway at a sprint, rounding a corner. Pumpkin Cake ran after, struggling to keep up. Her months spent underground had left her out of shape. Not that she was ever in the best physical shape to begin with, given her reliance on magic at the expense of muscle. Sometimes, even flights of stairs would leave her winded. Her lungs started to burn as they turned another corner. Earth ponies are handicapped, huh? she thought. Finally, Redheart slowed as she entered one of the doors. Pumpkin teleported the remainder of the distance, and found herself outside of an office. Nurse Redheart was inside along with two doctors: a young unicorn mare and an elderly, grey earth pony. “...hours and still nine centimeters. There are complications. A cesarean section is needed at once,” said the earth pony doctor. The unicorn doctor, who sat behind the desk, said, “What is the race of the fetus?” “Earth pony,” said Nurse Redheart. The unicorn doctor shook her head. “Our surgeons are required in the trauma ward. A dozen troops are here from Neighbraska with severe shrapnel wounds. A non-unicorn birth is not a priority.” “The mother and the foal will die without this surgery, Doctor Stethoscope!” the earth doctor exclaimed. Nurse Redheart merely stood by silently. “Then provide end-of-life care,” Doctor Stethoscope said flatly. “You took all of our painkillers for...” the earth doctor started, but trailed off as Doctor Stethoscope’s brow furrowed. The elderly doctor shook his head and turned to Redheart. “Nurse Redheart, please attend to the patient and provide her with a dose of sedatives. At least she can die in her sleep peacefully.” Nurse Redheart nodded and walked out the door, passing by Pumpkin Cake who stood outside. Redheart raised an eyebrow. “You’re still here? I guess you really are shadowing me, huh?” Pumpkin nodded. This trip down the hallway was slower and less rushed, Redheart moving at merely a jogging pace. Pumpkin kept up through teleporting, until Redheart entered a delivery room. There sat an expectant earth mare in the pangs of labor, and an earth stallion, the father. “What’s the news? Is she going into surgery?” he demanded, as the patient moaned. Nurse Redheart shook her head. “Mister and Missus Granite, the surgeons are all needed for injured troops…” The father shook his head. The mother fell silent for a moment. “...If the ultrasound had shown a unicorn… I’m so sorry,” said Nurse Redheart, lowering her head at Mr. and Mrs. Granite. The father stomped his hoof to the ground, which rattled all of the equipment in the room. “I can sedate her so that she won’t die in pain. At least you get to say goodbye,” said Nurse Redheart consolingly. “Wait,” said Pumpkin Cake. They all turned towards her. “I’m not a surgeon, but I know a spell that can—” Nurse Redheart’s brow furrowed as she shouted, “I said your charade is over! Is it not enough to hassle me with your stupid loyalty test? You have to hassle my patients, too, with no respect for their grief?” “Hold on,” uttered the mother. “Let her... speak…” The father nodded. He turned to Pumpkin. “What spell?” Pumpkin answered, “An intangibility spell.” “Don’t listen,” said Nurse Redheart, her voice lowering. “In thirty years of nursing I’ve never heard of this; why do you think surgeons operate with knives and scalpels? She is lyi—” “Do it,” said the mother to Pumpkin. The father nodded. Pumpkin turned to Nurse Redheart. Redheart sighed. “I can’t stop you, Velvet.” Pumpkin Cake nodded and walked over to the mother. She hesitated for a moment. She was no midwife. She had no training. Could she really do this? What if she messed up? But then she recalled the doctors’ conversation. This mare and her child would die no matter what Pumpkin did. Her horn lit up as she felt around Mrs. Granite’s belly. Unlike when she had tried to grab Fancy Pants’ heart, it was clear where the baby was. He was huge. He was also turned around, rather than head-first. No wonder the mother had needed a c-section. She turned the foal intangible and slowly lifted him from the womb. He silently screamed as the light met his opening eyes, the same shade of red as his father’s. The foal was not an earth pony as the doctors said. He was a unicorn, his horn still barely a nub that didn’t even protrude from his already-thick mane, the same vibrant blonde as his mother’s. They must not have been able to see it on the ultrasound. Two non-unicorn parents producing a unicorn was rare, but it did happen: Pumpkin herself was one. The baby, now solid, floated into his mother’s arms, his mewling audible. The father’s jaw dropped in astonishment, as did Nurse Redheart’s. But the nurse quickly snapped into action as she would with any other birth, severing the umbilical cord and checking on the baby. She ran her hoof over him, checking his heartbeat and his breathing, and then checking them again, and again, trying to confirm that the baby wasn’t an illusion. She grabbed a stethoscope and checked the mare’s belly to make sure the baby wasn’t somehow still inside. “Oh my goodness! Thank you so much!” the mare exclaimed, her face wide in a smile. The father got up and hugged Pumpkin Cake so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. It was so odd for her, to have saved two ponies’ lives with so little effort, with a spell she cast so often. She smiled, happy to have been a help. The father let Pumpkin go, and she turned to Nurse Redheart. “If that ‘sleight of hoof’ doesn’t convince you, nothing will.” “I… I… don’t know what to say,” Redheart stammered. “I’ve known the Granites since Mrs. Granite became pregnant. This is really their baby. He looks just like them. There was no other way for you to deliver him but...” “Intangibility,” said Doctor Stethoscope, who stood in the doorway. The ponies turned towards her. “I haven’t ever seen anything like that,” said Doctor Stethoscope. “No doctor knows that spell. But you aren’t a real doctor, are you?” “No,” said Pumpkin Cake. “I’m no more a real doctor than you are a loyal unicorn.” She pointed a hoof towards the unicorn colt who Doctor Stethoscope had so quickly condemned to die when she thought he was an earth pony. “She’s Pumpkin Cake, the fugitive,” Nurse Redheart finally acknowledged, as Pumpkin changed her coloring to normal. “Figures that a traitor like you would know somepony like her, Redheart,” said the doctor. “No!” Redheart shouted. “You are the traitor! You would’ve let this unicorn foal die!” “Security!” Doctor Stethoscope shouted out into the hallway. She shook her head. “You simply don’t understand, Redheart. You never accepted the decisions of ponies superior to you. That’s why you were to be liquidated after your shift ended today. I suppose that Pumpkin Cake got to you first.” “Oh, no, she thinks I’m just another one of your loyalty tests,” said Pumpkin snidely as the hoofsteps of the security ponies drew closer to the door. “Yes, I’m with you now, Pumpkin Cake. I believe you. Now get us out of here,” Redheart urged. Pumpkin chuckled. The two of them disappeared in a flash of light. Pumpkin Cake and Nurse Redheart reappeared on a rooftop of a building a few blocks away from the hospital. “So it’s really true, then. You’re really Pumpkin Cake,” said Nurse Redheart. She put her hoof on Pumpkin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you, earlier.” “It’s okay,” said Pumpkin Cake, smiling. “If you’d believed me, I never would’ve saved that foal.” “An amazing coincidence, that,” Nurse Redheart chuckled. “Years ago, I helped deliver you and your brother when I still worked at Ponyville General.” “Really?” asked Pumpkin, raising an eyebrow. Redheart nodded. “I remember you and Pound to this day, because it’s uncommon to have a unicorn born to two earth pony parents... but twins, and the other one a pegasus? Quite rare. And now you helped me, who delivered you, to deliver another unicorn child... to two earth pony parents! What are the odds?” “As unlikely as me having that spell to begin with,” said Pumpkin. “You have an incredible gift,” said Redheart. “Why don’t you go into medicine? You’d make a great doctor.” Pumpkin shrugged. “I’d like to, but I’ve been busy fighting the Second Kingdom. I just hope they don’t kidnap that earth-born unicorn colt and force him to farm, like with me.” Redheart solemnly nodded. “The SK runs this hospital with an iron hoof. You saw it. They don’t care about patients who aren’t unicorns. Even the unicorn patients get pushed aside in favor of the soldiers. We used to be a private hospital run by a religious charity. But Blueblood nationalized it. He cut our salaries, increased our hours, and made us treat war wounded. I’d go back to Ponyville, but that’s occupied, too.” “Why are you on a partisan list?” “I wanted to rebel, but I had a tough time, since every non-unicorn at St. Prancis was under scrutiny. They sent ponies to test us, usually ones who would say something bad about Blueblood and see if we reacted positively. I always passed those tests, but then they sent phony partisans to ask if we wanted to ‘join’ them. But I was smart. If a ‘partisan’ ever approached me, I said that I was loyal to the SK despite my handicap, just like I told you.” Pumpkin chuckled. “You can drop the act now.” Redheart shook her head. “It’s not an act. Unicorns are the most versatile, useful race. Quit being modest, and accept your higher status. I accept it, and I’m an earth pony. It doesn’t mean that you have to like Blueblood, or that you have to hate non-unicorns. It just means that you accept reality for what it is. That’s part of being an adult, young mare. I’m an earth pony, so I could never be like you, Pumpkin Cake. I could never deliver a baby like you did. And I could never sedate a pony with magic alone. I could never hold a scalpel in the precise, sanitary grip of telekinesis.” Once again, Pumpkin had no retort. Perhaps Redheart was right, and perhaps unicorns were superior to other ponies, at least in the areas she’d mentioned. But maybe that was okay. There was a difference between being superior to someone and hating them. Redheart continued, “I could never cast an ultrasound spell to see inside of a pony. I could never treat cancer with dark magic, or—” “Wait,” said Pumpkin Cake. “Say that again, about the cancer.” Redheart nodded. “Dark magic is highly illegal in Equestria, but Blueblood legalized it: the only compassionate thing he’s done. Normally, it’s only useful for terrible spells like torture or necromancy.” Pumpkin said, “Voodoo magic and all, huh? I don't touch the stuff myself.” Nurse Redheart explained, “There’s a voodoo curse to weaken a pony, that makes hair fall out and muscles atrophy. But it also slows cancer cells dividing. With a voodoo doll, a unicorn doctor can target just the area containing the tumor, but dark magic is so toxic that the patient still experiences some side effects. Better than dying, though.” “Hmm… you’re the second partisan to tell me a good thing about a spell that’s banned in Equestria,” said Pumpkin Cake, squinting. “This is crazy, but I have to know: did you also tell an invisible mare?” Nurse Redheart’s eyes widened. “How did you know? Yes, when an Equestrian partisan finally recruited me, she was an invisible mare. Like I told the fake partisans, I said I was loyal to Blueblood. But she convinced me by saying that she’d been spying on me for months, and if she were truly a Second Kingdom agent, she would have reported me already for being a lesbian. “You see, I have a unicorn marefriend. Blueblood hates unicorn homosexuality, since he wants the master race to bear children. Maybe I should date other earth mares, since that’s legal, but I’m only attracted to unicorns. If we were caught, I’d merely be executed since I’m an earth pony, but she would be locked in a dungeon, raped repeatedly by stallions to ‘cure’ her, and when she became pregnant, she’d be forced to carry any unicorn child to term, who would be taken by the state, lest she ‘corrupt’ them too.” Pumpkin Cake shook her head in disgust. She thought she had it bad with Trixie, but compared to that? She might as well have been on holiday. Redheart continued, “The mare showed me incriminating photos she secretly took months ago. She had evidence all that time, so why wouldn’t she have already had me arrested? It convinced me. I went into training for the partisans for several weeks. Because of my job, I proved to be valuable. As a nurse, I can sabotage the ability of the SK to treat its war wounded. I haven’t broken my oath to do no harm, though; I only indirectly sabotage. “Once they understood that I was valuable, I told the invisible mare that dark magic should be allowed in Equestria, at least for cancer treatments. She just said that she’d ‘pass it along.’ That was two weeks ago. I’ve been to a few meetings since then and it hasn’t come up again.” Pumpkin Cake remained silent for a few moments and tried to put the pieces together. Invisi-mare must have been an Equestrian agent. She must have “passed it along” to Fancy Pants, and given him a list of partisans who didn’t agree with Equestria’s magic laws, the same list he’d given to Pumpkin when trying to prove his loyalty. But he was disloyal, because he was cooperating with an Equestrian agent. Where did Fancy Pants fit into this whole plan? Was he merely invisi-mare’s secret lover who he got tips about partisans from, or was he more? Either way, one thing became clear to her. Equestria had sold the Mareicopa partisans out. “Nurse Redheart,” asked Pumpkin Cake, “will you help me find the other partisans and alert them before it’s too late?” Redheart nodded. “Get me a disguise and I’ll gladly warn them. They’ll listen to me, since I know several of them well. I can help you find them quickly, too.” Pumpkin smiled, and her horn lit up. “What color hair and coat would you like?” Over the next few hours, Nurse Redheart and Pumpkin Cake warned more partisans on the list. Most of them had similar stories to Vinyl Scratch and Nurse Redheart: they had voiced their concern over magic laws or some other aspect of Equestria that they didn’t like, either to invisi-mare or to some other partisan, and were now on the list. But thanks to good teamwork, Pumpkin Cake and her new allies fanned out across the city and got to nearly every pony before the end of the day. Pumpkin would warn a pony, who would then go help warn more ponies. Only ten of the ponies on the list they couldn’t find, and Pumpkin Cake figured that these were ones who the police had already arrested. In addition to the ponies on the list, they also recruited partisans who weren’t on it, such as Nurse Redheart’s marefriend. Redheart also knew a few anti-Blueblood doctors and nurses at the hospital, and promised to approach them in secret over the next few days. Vinyl Scratch promised that over half of the hundreds of fans who had attended her raves were itching for a fight. She had a mailing list for concert tickets, so she could go to their houses and reach out to them over the next few weeks. Other partisans had other friends and family who wanted to join. By that afternoon, the partisans under Pumpkin Cake had swelled to over sixty, with many more promised. They were roughly seventy percent unicorns, and fifteen percent each of pegasi and earth ponies. Most of them had already armed themselves, either with magic or guns. Some were less prepared, but the two dozen partisans like Vinyl who hadn’t planned hiding places in advance now had homes, thanks to a partisan officer at the First Bank of Mareicopa. He had a list of many foreclosed houses in Mareicopa they could squat in. He put a thousand addresses on folded up paper slips in a hat, and each partisan drew a slip, keeping the address secret. That way, nopony knew which addresses were picked, or which partisan drew which. In full view of the partisans, the hat with the remaining slips was locked in the bank’s safe deposit box for future partisans to draw from, and Pumpkin destroyed the key and welded the box permanently shut, so that only she could retrieve the hat. The partisans went to their new homes all at once, and sealed them up tight, just as Pumpkin had with Trixie’s house, so that even if the invisible mare found which houses they occupied, she couldn’t easily get in. The vast majority of the partisans wanted Equestria’s magic laws relaxed or repealed for various reasons. Pumpkin heard them loud and clear. She had her own convictions as well. And now, she had time to talk with her brother. Even though he was across the country, Pumpkin could now get there in just an hour, as one of the partisans, named Walkabout, was a gifted teleporter. Day Three After King Blueblood’s Poisoning, Sundown Pound and Pumpkin cake smiled and hugged, as they greeted each other. “It's great to see you, sis!” Pound Cake exclaimed. “You too, Pound,” said Pumpkin Cake. “Nice new office. Took me a while to find you here in Fillydelphia. How have you been?” Pound boasted, “We just got done stopping the Second Kingdom from stealing our grain from Neighbraska. There were a few snags, but otherwise it was a good old fashioned hoedown smackdown! Meanwhile, Equestrians For Action has scheduled its first anti-corruption rally in Manehattan a month from now. What’s been up with you, Pumpkin?” “I’ve been gathering allies,” she said. “I have dozens in Copa.” “Great!” he exclaimed. “I knew you’d find some friends. How is stopping the genocide coming along?” “We’re making plans,” she said. “But, before I do that, I have to address something.” “Yeah, sure thing,” said Pound. “We oppose some of Equestria’s magic laws. If Mareicopa rejoins Equestria, those laws will have to change. Since you’re handling the political side of things, I want your committee to include this in its official platform.” Pound scratched his head. “There’s like a gazillion magic laws, Pumpkin. Which ones don’t you like?” “Several,” said Pumpkin Cake. “For starters, Equestria should legalize the want-it, need-it spell.” Pound Cake guffawed, throwing his head back as his mane rustled around. He slammed his hoof on the desk. Pumpkin cake rolled her eyes, waiting for him to finish. “And you said I was the goofy one!” Pound Cake laughed. Pumpkin sighed. Pound regained his composure and asked, “No, but seriously, which laws?” “I just told you,” said Pumpkin Cake flatly. “I’m very serious about this.” Pound Cake shook his head. “Sorry, sis. The EFA is fighting corruption and ponies with too much power. Why would we wanna legalize a mass mind control spell? You might as well ask to legalize bribery!" “WINI should still be illegal for mind control. Legalize personal use only,” said Pumpkin. “Personal use? You mean like addicts do? Those guys are waste cases, Pumpkin. I see them on the streets of Manehattan and Fillydelphia. Ponies have lost their homes, jobs, and lust for life itself because of WINI. They’d rather just lie around in gutters under some spell. They think that they just have their little mind trick, and that's all they need. If you legalize that spell, the problem will just get even worse. It’s society’s duty to protect weak-willed ponies from themselves, and it's their duty to be off of that spell so they can be happy by living fulfilling lives, not cheat to be happy with magic." “Sorry that they aren’t being happy correctly,” Pumpkin Cake quipped. “But for the sake of stopping corruption, you should want this law repealed. It’s unenforceable, for one. You’ve seen addicts in Equestria where the spell is illegal; that proves the ban doesn’t work. WINI is an easy spell to learn if you really want. You might as well try to outlaw masturbation, too.” Pound chuckled. “The magic law is just giving ammo to the corrupt cops,” Pumpkin continued. “If the police want to falsely arrest somepony, they just have to claim he’s under some illegal spell, and it’s the officer’s word in court against the pony. I did some research, and it happens a lot, especially to unicorns. Racist, crooked cops demand bribes from unicorns all the time by threatening them with false magic law arrests.” “Then the problem isn’t the magic law; it’s the cops,” said Pound. “Fire the crooked cops and keep the magic law.” She replied, “But repealing this law will free up space in prisons, and let the police focus on serious crimes instead of victimless ones.” “There is a victim. The victim is the addict,” he said. “I don’t know where you got your info from, Pound. Some homeless ponies that you saw, who you thought might be WINI addicts? When I used the spell, it actually motivated me more, not less. I sure wouldn’t go live in a gutter. How do you know that these homeless ponies were on WINI?” “I talk to them, that’s how. They’ve all been let down by society, screwed over by big business, and they need our help. They need rehab. They need food, water, medicine, and money.” “And beggars will tell any sob story to get your money,” said Pumpkin. “Don’t trust a hobo who you just met. Trust your own sister. The spell isn’t addictive.” Pound narrowed his eyes. “Anything that feels good can be addictive. Maybe you just don’t have an addictive personality, but those homeless ponies do.” Pumpkin shrugged. “Okay, fine. Even if it were addictive, it’s not our place to come between somepony and an addiction. They have to break it themselves, or go to rehab, or freeze to death in the road.” Pound Cake shook his head. “You’re so cold-hearted! Don’t you care?” he exclaimed. “I do care. That’s why I want the laws repealed! You want to help the homeless? Then let them help themselves,” said Pumpkin Cake. Pound sighed. “I can’t lobby for an addictive spell to be legal, Pumpkin. Especially not one that can also be used for mind control, because how can we trust that ponies will be honest and only use it on themselves? We can’t. Corrupt officials teach us that ponies who have power tend to abuse it. There have to be safeguards against that power. The magic laws are safeguards. I mean, otherwise, why not just legalize voodoo?” Pumpkin blushed. “Uh, actually, that was another thing that—” Pound threw his hooves up in the air. “I can’t believe you, Pumpkin Cake! Whatever Trixie did to you in that dungeon, I’m sorry, but it’s changed you, and now you—” “Don’t pull the ‘Pumpkin is crazy’ card,” she snapped. “I’m perfectly rational. You just can’t respond to my points, so you have to resort to personal attacks, just like you do in every argument we have.” “I wasn’t going to call you crazy. And I did respond to your points, but you’re so dense that you didn’t—” “There you go again.” “You really don’t care, do you, Pumpkin? You don’t care at all if ponies get addicted to a spell, or if they get mind controlled, or voodoo’ed. You don’t care about homelessness.” “Nice strawpony, Pound. Another of your favorite tactics.” Pound sighed. “Fine, but you still think that as long as you’ve got your own jollies and are left alone, other ponies can all go do whatever. They can just be left alone, too.” “That would be fantastic, actually,” said Pumpkin Cake, smiling. “I’m not into controlling other ponies’ lives. That’s what ponies like Blueblood do.” “That’s what any government does!” Pound shouted. “Not like Blueblood does. Not like Twilight does. Not like you want to do,” she said. “I want it because I care,” he said. “I want to reform the system; I don’t want to tear it all down. I certainly hope that’s not what you’re going to do if you don’t get your way.” Pumpkin Cake sighed. “You obviously can’t be reasoned with. Not when you get like this. Maybe now that I’ve got the partisans, I can talk some sense into invisi-mare, and—” “You’re wasting your time,” said Pound Cake. “The invisible mare wouldn’t lobby to repeal the magic laws, either. I mean, she’s about to kill Blueblood, the same pony who fought those laws to begin with.” Pumpkin’s eyebrows raised. “Wait, she’s killing Blueblood? And she talked to you?” Pound brought both of his front hooves to his mouth as his eyes widened. Pumpkin smiled. “Something tells me that I wasn’t supposed to know that. But now that I do, I have an invisible mare to go catch,” said Pumpkin Cake, turning around towards the door. Before she could open it, Pound Cake was right in front of it. “You’d better not disrupt her plans to kill him, or I swear I’ll never speak to you again!” Pound exclaimed. Pumpkin shook her head. “What? No. I want Blueblood dead, too. But I also want the cooperation of the new President Fancy Pants. And now, I know just how to get it. It was nice talking to you, Pound Cake. I must be going.” He refused to budge. Pumpkin giggled. “You think you can stop me? How cute.” She turned intangible, and walked through him and the door. Pumpkin walked through the smoggy evening streets of Fillydelphia. Walkabout had told her that while she was talking to Pound, he would go to get dinner at the cafe down the street. But when she had gone to check it, they were closed for the night. She figured she’d just walk around until he saw her and said hello. As she rounded a corner onto an empty street, a gun clicked behind her. “You don’t talk sense into ‘invisi-mare,’ Pumpkin Cake. Invisi-mare talks sense into you.” “That sounds like a bad joke,” said Pumpkin, not bothering to turn around. “And you know that I can just turn intangible before you shoot me, so why bother clicking the gun?” “Shoot you? No, pulling the safety on my gun back is just how I say hello!” the invisible mare said. Suddenly, a floating baseball cap appeared in front of Pumpkin Cake. She didn’t know if it was held there by telekinesis, or if it was atop the head of the invisible mare. Either way, she looked at the baseball cap, right where the mare’s eyes would be under it. “So, I heard everything in that office, by the way,” said invisi-mare. “I gathered,” said Pumpkin Cake. “And I assume you’ve been following me in Mareicopa, too, but I made sure you couldn’t follow those partisans to their new homes.” The baseball cap bobbed up and down, as if nodding. “Well played with having them draw from a hat, and then having them leave all at once so I couldn’t follow them all. It’d take me weeks to check 1,000 foreclosed homes for two dozen partisans, so kudos. And good job sealing up Trixie’s house so I can’t turn into a mouse and get in easily. Here I thought that you were just a deranged serial killer bent on revenge, but you’re a planning political partisan who actually has goals. I’m sorry that I misjudged you, Pumpkin Cake.” Pumpkin chuckled. “Well, I’m sorry that I misjudged you, too. I thought that you were a Second Kingdom fascist at first. But you’re the Equestrian honeypot. I’m guessing Fancy Pants is in on the assassination plan so that he can be president, and then he’ll sign a peace treaty. I’m also guessing that, now that I know this, you’ll kill me.” “Good guessing,” said the invisible mare. “But I don’t want to kill you, or else you’d already be dead. Instead, I’m standing here talking to you. I even have my hat on so you can make eye contact instead of gazing everywhere like some schizophrenic.” “But I just foiled your plans to kill those partisans,” said Pumpkin. “Why wouldn’t you shoot me?” “Because I’ve found a use for you and them,” said the invisible mare. “Before, I didn’t know that you were freeing the internment camps. Had I known that in Fancy Pants’ office, I’d have treated you a bit differently. But now I realize: like your brother, you too can help me with my plans. “You see, Fancy Pants really hates the internment. He wants to release all those ponies immediately. But there’s a little problem. He can’t just pull the plug as soon as he’s president, or else he’ll look weak to the voters. Weak leaders don’t get re-elected, and their treaties don’t get respected. Weak leaders get assassinated. Weak leaders get overthrown in coups. I need you to liberate the internment camps, so that Fancy Pants won’t have to.” “We’re already going to,” said Pumpkin Cake. The hat shook from side to side. “Not how you want to. Let me guess, you’d storm the stadium with a bunch of militants with guns and combat magic? Kill all the guards, then lead the ponies all out to safety somehow?” Pumpkin nodded. The voice laughed. “Too many things could go wrong with that plan. Ponies could get shot, or end up captured. The hostages could get caught in the crossfire, or be shot outright if the guards panic. Besides, even if you succeed that way, then ponies might start to question how Fancy Pants couldn’t secure the stadium against such mediocre attacks. How could a small group with rifles rescue the one bargaining chip standing between the Second Kingdom and unconditional surrender, they’ll ask. Why wasn’t there more security, they’ll ask. Fancy Pants would look weak. “No, you have to rescue those ponies with methods so outrageous that nopony would think to blame Fancy Pants for when it happens, because there’s no way they could’ve expected him to see it coming. Nopony could foresee it, except for your group, because you’re ones that disagree with the magic laws. So even though you’re fighting against the SK, you’re into magic that’s forbidden in Equestria.” “Which was why you wanted us killed,” Pumpkin retorted. “Why should I trust you?” The voice chuckled. “I only wanted those ponies killed because they’d be a liability to Equestria. Hell, I’ve screwed around with WINI before, too. I don’t have a problem with relaxing the magic laws; in fact, I agree with what you told your brother. I just have a problem with armed ponies who hate those magic laws and might present a threat down the road when Mareicopa joins Equestria again. Have those ponies killed like I wanted to, and the problem goes away. But simply change the laws like you want to, and the problem also goes away. You’ve ensured that I can’t kill them. So now, we’re going to change the laws.” “How?” asked Pumpkin. “I already asked Pound to lobby for it, and he won’t.” “You want those spells legalized in Equestria? You want to change the mind of ponies like your brother? Then you’ll use those spells to rescue the captives at Chupacabra Stadium. WINI, voodoo, whatever else. Show Equestria that those spells can be good. Right now, ponies think they’re only evil. Ponies hear ‘dark magic’ or ‘want-it, need-it’ and all they can think about is King Sombra enslaving the Crystal Empire.” Pumpkin nodded. “Even I thought that, before I was educated.” “Then you know that you’ll never change the laws unless you change ponies’ attitudes about them, like your own attitude changed. If you use those spells to deliver thousands of ponies from genocide, in a flashy way, how could Equestria justify keeping them banned? You’d have the perfect argument for legalizing the spells, or relaxing the laws at the very least. If your political opponent says Sombra, you could say Chupacabra.” Pumpkin chuckled. “Okay. We’ll use the banned spells to free the stadium. Then ponies will see their benefit.” “It’s not 100% guaranteed that Equestria will change the laws, but it’s a good bet. Especially if I make Fancy Pants includes that item in his peace negotiations. The laws will probably be relaxed, though not entirely repealed,” said the invisible mare. Pumpkin nodded. “Fair enough.” “Oh, by the way, Pumpkin Cake, before you liberate the stadium, run your plan by me. Every evening from 8:00-8:15, I’ll stand outside the old Coffee Cup Cafe in case you wanna chat. You know where it is?” Pumpkin Cake nodded. The invisible mare disappeared in a flash of light. Pumpkin walked down the road until she found the portly, navy-blue coated Walkabout. He sat on a bench outside of the EFA headquarters, eating a Fillydelphia cheese sandwich. He blushed slightly as Pumpkin walked up to him, realizing that she had been walking around looking for him the whole time. “I just left for a moment to get me a sanger; I didn’t know you’d be done with your talk by now,” said Walkabout. As a recent emigrant from Oatstralia, he spoke with a thick accent. “Pound and I had an argument, and I left early,” said Pumpkin Cake. She didn’t want to mention her encounter with the invisible mare to any of the partisans. Given that invisi-mare had put them all on a hit-list, they certainly wouldn’t trust her. Pumpkin herself barely trusted invisi-mare, and wouldn’t let her guard down in case it was a ruse. But liberating the stadium was something that the partisans were already planning to do anyway. Even if invisi-mare’s offer was a ruse, giving the ponies their deliverance with banned spells would still help their case against the magic laws. They'd just have to make a clever plan.