Beneath the Canon You Settle For

by The Amateur

Chapter 14 - You Play, You Pay

Next to the fact that I had gotten Rainbow and myself arrested, and the fact that I nearly hit a kid, I could not help but feel that I was forgetting another one of my errors. This moment was certainly my lowest point up to now, but it was really that unknown felony that made me feel like I should be behind bars.

Unlike Featherweight and Rainbow Dash, I abided by procedure and held my hooves out for the cuffs. A steel chain had been attached through all three pairs of our hoofcuffs, binding us together in the crime. Those of us who resisted eventually humbled themselves once the guards angled their spears toward us.

“Excuse me, why am I being arrested? I was the victim!” Featherweight griped. The guard next to him merely grunted and tightened the cuffs around his scrawny legs.

The tannish yellow unicorn, who had informed me of my crime and rights, heading the CAD mook squad, inquired tersely, “Are you Featherweight, chief editor of the Foal Free Press?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“And you haven’t registered yourself with the Canterlot Auxiliary Defense battalion’s Troublemakers’ List?” The sergeant turned and looked me over. Even though I had not said a word, she still sized me up as though I had questioned her authority.

Featherweight stuttered briefly. “Troublemakers’ List? I haven’t been responsible for any incidents in town!”

Sergeant Lotus barely skipped a beat on her response: “All writers and artists are to register their information into the battalion’s database, regardless of their civil record. We’ll be moving out and making no stops until we reach HQ!”

As she turned her back on me, I caught sight of her rank insignia right around her shoulder and another emblem uncommon for royal guards––a phoenix the color of a burning hearth with its wings spread outward. It was undoubtedly the symbol of the Cut and Drieds.

With an escort of seven armed guards, the three of us convicted were led out of the basement. As we marched past the school window, I got a glimpse of Cheerilee at her desk. She had an expression of resentment rivaling that of some of the thugs I brought in as an officer. But in all honesty, I would have given the same look to a pony who attacked children. If Rainbow had not been there, calling in the guards might have been the only action that would have saved Featherweight.

All the clouds had been cleared, leaving us absolutely exposed at high noon. A cool morning had given way to scorching heat no spring had ever witnessed. Celestia herself might have decided to bring the sun down over my head as punishment. The CAD troops somehow remained insulated in their gold armor.

Around half an hour passed in what became a death march. One hoof at a time. Sweat doused my face in itching trails and slid its way into my eyes, forcing them closed with searing pain to my cornea. My mane and coat were left in shambles from all the oil. I had more to do now with a mop that soaked up grime than a worn–out athlete.

CAD headquarters appeared before us like an oasis in the desert, if only because air conditioning sounded as enticing as life–saving water. Otherwise, it was just an indistinguishable building slapped into the downtown area by a blind architect.

"Up the stairs, you three," Cupid Lotus said with an incessant tap of her hoof. We were led into a brick and mortar lodge, a square complex with no character to its design. Several frameless windows had been cut into the walls, an arch for the main entrance had been installed, and the builders had slapped on a black tile roof to wrap up the whole monstrosity.

The lobby inside continued the theme of absolute simplicity––a glass-paned counter, a couple of ceiling fans, a few miserable secretaries. The sergeant exchanged greetings with a secretary behind the counter, then Featherweight, Rainbow, and I were brought down to the prison block. A small cell was opened, three hay rations waiting inside, and we were locked inside. Due process concluded with the clinking of our cell’s lock.

"You think these bars are going to hold me? Just wait until court. I'll make you nimrods pay for every minute I'm here. I'll even testify in my own defense..." Rainbow continued railing against the guards, long after they had shut the steel door to the prison block. She had taken position by the bars, attempting, it seemed, to bend them with her muzzle. Featherweight was off in the corner, mumbling to himself about Luna knows what.

Talking sense into either of my cellmates was futile. My energy was spent already from the death march. I lied down on a cot and closed my eyes.

All I could do was avoid thinking about depressing possibilities, such as the possibility that Featherweight's little story might have traveled outside Ponyville. Maybe into the ear of a desperate journalist. A little, insignificant runt's rumor could develop into a media maelstrom. Spitfire and Whiplash (and Soarin) could be facing a firing squad of reporters at this very moment. All because of me.

Narrating the hate I had for myself was so much easier when alcohol was involved.

“––And the law can eat my dust!" Rainbow Dash's tirade came to a sudden stop. As her last words finished echoing through the room, I heard her footsteps move away from the bars. In my experience, that sort of silence could only indicate two possibilities––Rainbow was preparing to stab me in the back or Rainbow was preparing to put a plan into action.

For the Element of Loyalty, I was willing to believe the latter.

My eyes snapped open. Sure enough, Rainbow had snuck up to my cot, nearly touching noses with me. She raised a foreleg over her lips and made a pointing gesture toward Featherweight. By the time I was back on my hooves, she was over by the runt.

Rainbow sat down next to him and asked, "What do you know about the Cut and Drieds?" The question was whispered, and both their heads were bowed toward the corner. I did a quick sweep of the cell, keeping an eye out for any camera or microphone emplacements. There was nothing in the way of surveillance, as far as I could see. Why the discretion then?

"You've noticed too?" Featherweight responded with an excited flutter in his wings.

"The guard activity, the strange restrictions on artists and writers…" Rainbow cast me a quick glance. "Strange changes in my friends. How is nobody else noticing?"

"The CAD's behind it all." Featherweight poked his head with both hooves. "They've been messing with our heads! Some sort of subliminal brainwashing… maybe. Whenever the CAD makes a pony disappear or something like that, no one seems to suspect a thing. Rainbow Dash, when was the last time you saw Pinkie Pie?"

"Two days ago, I think." She shifted her eyes toward the ceiling, squinting at an uncertainty in her answer. "A family trip, she said."

"Pinkie Pie's been gone for two weeks. Never said a word about where she went." Featherweight picked up a hay ration and started devouring the contents at a speed I did not think possible for a scrawny pegasus. With hay in his mouth, he continued, "Everyone's under the same impression: family trip, two days ago. Ever since the battalion arrived, ponies have disappeared under similar circumstances. The good doctor had an appointment in Canterlot; Lyra went fishing; that cross–eyed pegasus flew east."

"How were you unaffected?" I inquired. Just watching the kid eat made me realize I had nothing yet for lunch. Hay rations would have to do.

Featherweight feverishly chewed and swallowed his current bite. "I stayed low and practically lived in the schoolhouse basement. So long as I kept printing out silly foal garbage and gossip, the CAD would never suspect me. Who would take a kid editor seriously, anyway?"

He paused through his next bite. With both hooves up, Featherweight quickly muttered, "And I've very, very sorry about the article. I'll undo what I started. I swear!"

I replied with a curt nod. Seeing as the runt might be onto something big, I decided I would let him go for now.

"They've been messing with our minds?" Rainbow mumbled. She was rubbing her temple, undoubtedly trying to comprehend how she could have forgotten about her friend.

"At any moment, the Cut and Drieds can make us forget someone or something. We can figure out what’s going on together! But we need to keep each other informed and remain unnoticed."

The whole prospect was just too convenient. A whole town's memory could be manipulated by these Canterlot mooks, Ponyville’s own Big Brother. What if they were also responsible for Cloudsdale's regression into some sort of idyllic paradise, Solar Wind's change of name, the change in my career, and... something else. What was I forgetting again?

The door to the prison block opened with an ear-wrenching screech. Featherweight and I threw down the hay rations. Rainbow, meanwhile, was just beginning to return to reality.

"Come find me at my house on Meadowlark Road after we're out. Rose bushes out front. Don't let a single guard see you on your way there." Featherweight made for a corner away from Rainbow and me. He was right back to mumbling to himself the moment two Canterlot regulars appeared outside our cell.

"Her Highness has pardoned the three of you. You're free to go," one said as the other unlocked the door. Featherweight ran out at the first sign of an opening, spouting exuberant thanks to each guard as he went.

Rainbow Dash walked alongside me as we headed out of the cell. A winner's grin was plastered on her face, as though our release was her master plan. "I knew Twilight would get us out! She wouldn't have let us rot in jail on these unjustified charges." She got up close to the two guards for the last part. Neither gave so much as an eye roll.

I was stopped on my way out, however. "You are to see the colonel in his office. Private Toffee Bunny will lead you there." The speaking soldier waved over his partner, a unicorn the color of graphite. Rainbow opened her mouth, but a quick glance in her direction convinced her to remain silent. She made for the exit, and I followed the private out of the prison block.

One trek through bland halls later, I arrived at the colonel's door. Private Bunny rapped, opened the door for me, and shut it closed just as quickly once I was inside.

The colonel stood over a turtle shell desk situated between two wide windows overlooking town square. He smirked upon my entry, holding the tail of a grotesque pipe between his teeth. As I approached closer to the desk, I could see he was a light green earth pony with no visible mane, who wore just an officer's cap as an accessory. The colonel directed me over to the only other chair in the room right in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Miss Fleetfoot. My name is Colonel Harvest Glory. Care for a cup of tea?" Colonel Glory had the appearance of a recently graduated recruit, yet his voice was like that of a matured dragon given lessons in maintaining a suave tone.

"I welcome the offer," I said. The colonel set a cup before me and poured my tea. The porcelain kettle, cups, and plates were among the few items decorating the colonel's office, next to a case for his pipe, a gramophone and accompanying records, a wall of honors, and four portraits of the ruling alicorns. Those portraits were hung in pairs to my left and right, bringing their gazes into my peripheral vision.

I took a sip. The nourishment was palatable. The colonel could not be happier as I nodded in approval. "The tea was the one thing in Canterlot I simply could not live without. Say what you will about the aristocrats who drink it, but you have to admit, they have excellent tastes."

“Then the taste comes with the culture,” I said. But still, I sipped my tea for the sake of etiquette.

Harvest Glory settled into his chair and dropped his affable grin. “Now then, about this incident… I was shocked, when I received the report, but the Princess’s visit helped clear up a few details. I can understand why you went after that colt, but regardless, your actions were uncalled for.

“As consequence, your name has been added to the Canterlot Auxiliary Defense battalion’s Troublemakers’ List. In spite of that, I am willing to help alleviate a burden on your end. If you so wish, Miss Fleetfoot, I can recommend to the mayor’s office the removal of the latest issue of Foal Free Press on the basis of libel.” The colonel resumed smiling.

Remembering the runt’s words, I answered swiftly, “I would be grateful if you could.”

There was no telling whether or not he could see through my guise of ignorance. But no chances. That Harvest Glory appeared to be a reasonable authority figure did not change the fact that all ‘disappearances’ and instances of mind–tapping led back to him.

“Anything else you wanted to speak to me about, colonel?” I took another sip from my cup. The tea had grown lukewarm by this point.

The colonel momentarily glanced at Twilight Sparkle’s portrait. His eyes widened for a split second, and he turned back to me. “There was one more thing her Highness had informed me of…” he continued. “She asked that I ‘look into an individual named Lightning Bolt.’”

We sat staring at each other. He was testing me, looking for a reaction or any hint of recognition. One sudden move could implicate me in the opposition camp. Then, it would be over before I had the full picture.

“Not a name I recognize, I’m afraid,” I admitted. From the look of disbelief on his face, I assumed that my answer had disappointed his expectations. The colonel remained still. Could he have figured me out anyway? I was sure to cover up all the signs of my knowing anything about the battalion. I answered all questions within reasonable time, played along with his game of affability, and commanded my body language. Unless, he knew from the very start. Then, I needed an escape route and a ploy to gain the advantage––

“Surely you know Lightning Bolt?” Harvest Glory coughed into his fetlock. “Your daughter?”

…no. I remembered Lightning Bolt. Why would I forget? I am her mother after all. No caring parent would just forget the child she raised for 11 years. That kind of parent would deserve to lose her life’s joy. And if she forgot again, to lose everything she held dear.

Dear Celestia, I was shaking. I needed to get out of this place now.

“Exit’s at the end of the hallway if you need––” was all he got to say before I slammed the door shut. My sprint had no form and no thought. It was the sort of run fueled purely by the flight instinct.

I needed to find her, wherever I may have lost her. No, I needed to find Twilight, first. If Lightning Bolt never forgave me for forgetting her, then I would have nothing left to live for. That encounter would have to come later. Someone who had fallen as low as I had needed to confess.

Of course. I would need a therapist.

Comments

[garfan]

I hope you don't do something like make Fleetfoot's world the real one

[The Amateur]

6259486 Speaking for Fleetfoot, what is "real" to her is the version of the world she chooses to accept. She can be quite stubborn about her perception, however.

Speaking for us, what the real world is will become a central topic for the rest of the story.

I suppose we could just explain and ease your worries (and thank you for your investment in the story), but...

Where is the satisfaction in that?

[ChocolateFan25]

I put the story into my tracking bookshelf but for some reason I was not informed, that there's a new chapter. Only my feed told me about it. Instead, my bookshelves inform me about a bunch of unread chapters, that simply don't exist. Strange.

Well, that was a very... intriguing chapter. Who can be still trusted? What can be believed? Is there actually a "real" world? I personally hope, that it won't end with "Fleetfoot is just insane and imagined everything." That would ruin the amazing atmosphere of the story.

Also:

"You are to see the colonel in his office. Private Toffee Bunny will lead you there."

How can anyone take this guy serious? I mean, that name...

[The Amateur]

6260067 We at the Amateur thank you for your input.

If there is one thing I can spoil, it is this fact: there will be no silly plot twist, in which the story turned out to be a dream of a lunatic.

A shock like that is frankly a cop-out. No, no. I planned out this story with the intent of providing the definitive experience for losing your mind and re-imagining reality.

Also, Toffee Bunny was never well-liked among his peers.