The Conversion Bureau: Dinner Among Friends

by Mray

Interlude I

The pegasus shifted his shoulders slightly, flexing his wings as he sat in the seat of the jet liner, his seat belt buckled over his waist. He reached forward, his forehooves clasping on either side of the rectangular bottle of ‘Fiji’ water resting on his tray-table, before lifting it and gripping the sport-cap between his teeth. He moved his hooves back, pulling the cap open, before squeezing the bottle to drink. He let out a satisfied “ah” as he set the bottle down, lightly tapping the lid with the back of his hoof to close it, before looking at the earth pony to his right.

She had her eyes closed and was breathing heavily, in through her nose and out through her mouth, her fore and hind legs were braced against the wall of the plane, her armrest, and the seat in front of her, leaving her half on her back so that they could all reach. The pegasus lightly touched her shoulder, making her jump slightly in her seat, her eyes opening wide before looking at him.

“Relax Whisper, we’ll be landing soon.” He said, eyebrow edges drooping as he gave her soft smile.

The earth pony gave a heavy sigh, “I know… I just wish it was sooner…”

“Same here,” The voice came from the row in front of them, a pair of hooves popped up and then hung over the back of the seat Whisper’s own hooves had dug into. A head soon followed them, along with a pair of wings, “I still don’t understand why WE couldn’t have flown ourselves, instead of having to be carried around in this…can!” The second pegasus glared at the first, who shook his head, his dirty-blond mane, cut relatively short, lagging slightly behind it.

“I already told you Sky Dancer, the no-fly zone over the Metroplex is beyond strict, only official airlines can get clearance, and then only along the air-spokes and the airport itself. We’re lucky that they even set aside a section where we could train newfoals.” Sky Dancer gave a snort and disappeared back behind the seat, leaving her peer to roll his eyes slightly, before looking across the aisle, “How’re you holding up Mason?” Silence, “…Mason?”

“Hm?” The slate grey earth pony turned away from the window he’d been looking out of, a slim smile on his snout, “Oh, fine…just fine…” He said, before turning back, to the window, his brown eyes darting back and forth, focusing on one of the spires below, only to rapidly shift to another, “Just…amazed is all.”

“What about?”

“What about?!” Mason whipped his head back around, before grimacing and glancing to his seat-mate, a slow-breathing unicorn mare wearing an eye-mask and reclining back in her seat. He shook his head before continuing quietly, smiling “The fact that we’re over one of the greatest architectural and engineering marvels of the human world. We never had anything like this back in Equestria…or, at least, nothing this large.”

“Didn’t you already study the Metroplex when you were designing the local bureau?”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between reading about it, looking at pictures and blueprints, and actually seeing it,” He turned back to the window, his smile still on his face, “Especially like this…”

The pegasus smiled, “I think you and my friend are going to get along just fine…speaking of…” He looked over the seat in front of him to a white unicorn, “TP, do you have the…?”

“Right here” There was a soft glow as a pair of Lennon eyeglasses, the earpieces and bridge of which had been modified to fit a pony’s muzzle, lifted from a bag tucked under the seat in front of the unicorn and into the air.

The pegasus nodded as the spectacles slipped onto his face, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Sky Dancer looked up and tilted her head, squinting, “Why are you wearing those? I thought ponification got rid of problems like that.”

“It does.” The tan pony’s eyes looked down through the false lenses of the glasses, simple panes rather than the curved pieces needed to focus light and correct vision, “I’m keeping them mainly because it’ll make it easier for Saul to recognize me…that and I like the look.”

It was the violet coated pegasus’s turn to roll her eyes, “I’ll never understand newfoals…” She muttered.

The radio of the old vehicle crackled as classical rock streamed out of the speakers, the pointer and middle fingers of the driver tapping on the steering wheel, a small tap being added to each beat as the metal joints along the inside of his knuckles rapped against the surface. Below the music and tapping were the whirl of the electric motor and the sound from the friction of tires against highway asphalt as the car weaved between lanes, before finally slipping into the far left set, which curved off of the main road, toward the vast airport.

As the driver checked his blind spot, the song slowly faded out, and the voice of a calm man came out of the speakers, “You’re listening to WNVA-The Companion. It’s ten o’clock in the morning, and that means it’s time for our hourly news update,” brown eyes turned back toward the windshield and the road outside, a soft red glow about the pupils. A closer examination of which would show letters and numbers scrolling along the inside of the lenses, “Protesters still remain gathered outside the yet to open Dallas and Fort Worth conversion bureaus. Official estimates put the number of demonstrators at roughly fifty at the Dallas bureau, and upwards of one hundred at the Fort Worth location. The NCBC, however, assures that the Fort Worth location will open on schedule later this week, along with the Dallas location next month, once construction is completed.”

There was a soft electronic beep in the human’s ear, echoed by the speakers, as the road, and the car on it, passed beneath a metal arch, a new set of characters entering his vision, as a second voice overrode that of the radio “Welcome to Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. Do you require Parking Clearance ?” There was a slight twitch in the driver’s eyes, small but deliberate, “Confirmed. Long Term or Short Term?” Another twitch, “Confirmed. Is there a specific terminal you wish to park near?” A final twitch, before his mouth opened and he spoke.

“Terminal C.”

There was a second pair of beeps, before new text scrolled in and the voice spoke a final time, “Thank you. Your parking information will be forwarded to your vehicle’s onboard computer and/or ocular implants. Have a nice day ____Saul____.”

As the car came to a stop inside the assigned space, Saul turned his key and unbuckled his belt, the whirl of the engine dying, before his hands returned to the steering wheel, and he let his head rest against it. The human breathed for a moment before inhaling sharply and sitting up, “Okay…”

He stepped out of the car, tossing the door shut behind him, another twitch of his eye making the locks click into place as he moved to the stairs of the parking garage. Exiting the garage, Saul looked to either side of him, along a short curve of road that separated the building from the terminal across the street, watching carefully as cars moved along it, some pulling up to the opposite curb, others moving away from it as humans poured in and out. Finally, as a break appeared in the traffic, Saul dashed across along the crosswalk, before slowing his pace as he stepped up onto the pedestrian area and strolled inside.

The area was wide-open and vaulted, a steel ceiling hanging over the stone floor below, a floor covered in running, walking, and shuffling humans. Some were moving about the large ‘channel’ along the building’s central axis, others were in the slow lines, either at the counters to check in or at the security gates, and still others stood by the rotating baggage claim carousals. It was this final group that Saul would soon be counted as a part of, though he moved to a carousal yet to begin moving, and surrounded only sparsely by others.

Saul lifted his coat sleeve, glancing at his wrist, before doing a double-take at finding no watch upon it, his glowing eyes narrowing, before they relaxed and he rolled them, and a twitch brought up a set of numbers and letters “10:23 AM.”

The human moved to a dusty set of newspaper dispensers, fishing a quarter from his pocket and slipping it inside, before pulling out a copy of The Tract, turning, and going to take a seat in a line of linked chairs along one of the walls, unfurling the paper as he did so and beginning to read.

“Pardon me sir,” The voice came a few minutes later, long enough for the man to get through a few articles and develop a mild sneer, “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and…and…” The speaker, a rather tall gentleman wearing a white polo-shirt with a gold cross embroidered over the chest and matching slacks, a black bible and a small stack of pamphlets in his hand, had come to a stop as the newspaper had been lowered.

Saul’s outright sneer had been reduced to a merely off-putting Kubrick stare, his shining eyes narrowed as he looked up from beneath his brow and his mouth drew into a small frown, “Hm?”

The man’s nose wrinkled as he leaned back a fraction, his mouth rising as his own eyes narrowing as they glanced over the other human’s glowing pupils and chrome knuckles, his unoccupied hand balling up into a fist, before he gave a huff and left. Saul sighed and shook his head, his eyes twitching to check the time again “10:58 AM.” He folded the paper and slipped it into his jacket, pulling out another folded piece of material as he did so, before standing up and moving to stand midway between the outer wall of the building and the doors from the secure area of the terminal.

He unfolded the new piece of paper to reveal the large, bold letters “TCB” He remembered a phone conversation in which the letters had been chosen. He and his friend had decided to favor subtlety to avoid attracting unwanted attention. He waited there for a few more minutes, checking the time now and again and shifting his weight from one foot to the other to stay comfortable. He looked up to the ceiling, beginning to count the scratches he could see in the steel surface, before he heard the call, “Saul?”

His eyes widened as his head fell, looking around, “Alan?”

“Saul!” The voice came from the doors, the glowing gaze soon followed the sound, till it found a rapidly approaching tan and blond blur heading toward him.

“Alan!” There was a strong ‘oof’ as the pegasus hit his chest, the sign dropping as his arms wrapped around the pony in reflex, though he thought quickly and stepped, rotating in place to diffuse the momentum of his winged friend.

The pony hung on by locking his hooves as they turned, his wings flapping twice to aid him in slowing down before he laughed and let go, hovering at eye level with the human “Good to see you man, it’s been too long.”

“Indeed it has…something’s off though,” The glowing eyes glanced over the pegasus, their owner’s smile being suppressed, “Your voice is the same, as are your specs I see…did you change your hair or something?”

“Very funny,” Alan chuckled slightly, while Saul’s face broke back into a grin, “And I see I’m not the only one who’s had a few changes. What model are those OI’s?”

“M-I-17”

The pegasus paused, “Military grade? How’d you…”

“Ex-Special Forces guy hooked me up, let me get his pattern. Assimilated it into the permatech and…” He snapped his fingers, “State of the art ocular implants, free of charge.”

“Nice,” There was a clopping sound from behind the human as the pegasus glanced over his friend’s shoulder, “Ah, right.” The other four ponies had exited the doors and moved to the pair. Alan shifted over to hover next to them, “Saul, may I present: The forward staff of the Fort Worth Conversion Bureau. And friends, this is Saul, he’ll be our…”

“We know Cloud,” A slate coated earth pony rolled his eyes, “our liaison to the NCBC, via the IRS-DDC. Mason Blade, pleased to meet you.” He smiled, pausing for a moment before a unicorn next to him gave him a nudge, “oh!” he said, before extending a hoof.

Saul chuckled as he kneeled down, taking the hoof in his hand and shaking it, “Likewise,” before glancing back up at Alan, “Cloud?”

“Short for Cloud Kicker…don’t laugh,” The tan pegasus gave him a mock glare before smiling, “Long story, we’ll talk about it later. In the meantime, these are…” There was a loud buzz that made everyone, including Saul, flinch, as the baggage carousel began to turn.

“I think further introductions will have to wait,” Mason said, “I believe we should grab our luggage and leave soon. Cloud mentioned something about ‘unpredictable elements.’”

Saul glanced around, before spying the man from before, pale in the face and glancing over at the group every now and again as he spoke into his cell phone, “Yeah…we should probably go…over here” He said, moving toward the baggage claim, and beginning to look over the bags…