The Anthropologist

by Weavers of Dreams

-98- Invoking the God of Irony

The noises. Those unholy noises in the foliage. Shrieks and whoops, cries and snapping, Lyra found herself walking with her side pressed against the dynamite-wielding mare, finding her safer than whatever lurked in the leaves. Agate kept closer to the stallion in the lead, now wielding several more rocks than before and a few sticks.

Daring smiled weakly as they slowly followed Mr. Smith's trail, marked by large X's cut into the trunks of trees. "I've been wanting to come here ever since my grandfather's field guide washed ashore in that bottle. You know, the Unfinished Western Isle Compendium."

Lyra nodded. "Yes, I have a copy. First edition."

"I'll sign it for you on his behalf sometime," Daring assured her. "But, without an army, Like the one Celestia and Luna provided, I never had the guts to try. You know, everything he wrote in that book? It's all true. How he managed to survive by himself long enough to send out that message in a bottle... I may never know. I would at least like to find the rest of his book."

"His first book mainly described the forested island," Lyra continued the conversation, trying to keep her mind off the rustling in the treetops.

"That's why we set up the colony here," the pegasus explained. "We have yet to actually explore beyond the shoreline of the other two. And we literally firebombed the forest to make a big enough clearing to safely construct it."

"We are such stupid creatures you know that?" Lyra managed a chuckle. "We find a piece of inhospitable land unfit to live... then live there. You know, fault lines, places frequented by tsunamis, in the paths of hurricanes. Then, to top it all off, once those natural disasters pass through, we rebuild in the exact same place. It's like we're constantly flipping the middle finger to nature."

Daring paused. "The middle finger?"

Lyra nodded. "Western human equivalent of raising your tail and tapping your chest."

"Oh?" Daring blushed a bit. "I see your point. I guess it's just in our nature. Though, would we really be better without the conflict?"

"Well, if we're going to get philosophical, what do you think drove your grandfather here?"

The archaeologist shrugged. "According to my grandma, for whatever reason, he just, one day, became obsessed with an old sailor story and tales from nomadic seaponies about mysterious uncharted islands. For a few years he would make charts and study maps, often getting frustrated when things didn't line up. Then, one day again, he disappeared. Twenty eight years later, a large bottle washes ashore with his name written all over it."

"Sort of like a cry for help?" Lyra asked, aiming her pistol at a spiky bush.

The pegasus huffed indignantly. "My grandfather was more than competent to build a boat and sail away. No, he wanted someone else to follow. I think maybe... maybe he knew he wasn't coming back. I believe he wanted one last adventure, and he wanted it to be his greatest."

The conversation was a good distraction from the deadly island around them. So much so, that the two mares bumped into the ponies up front.

"Hey, what's the hold up," Daring whispered, almost afraid to ask.

"Its the end of the road," the stallion said, pointing ahead.

Dead ahead was the shoreline of their island. The waves beat against the rocky beach, and dead ahead they could see Mark Smith and the other soldiers standing a short ways ahead, looking down at something. Lyra gasped and rushed forward in horror. What could they be looking at?

"Henry," she cried out desperately. But, when she got there, her worries were no less relieved. In the middle of the ponies and human was another arrow made of stones. Pointing out towards the water. Towards the volcanic island across the way. "Ooooh.... crap."

"Indeed," Mark said with a sigh, stomping his foot. "This frustrating hooligan has carted them off to the next island."

"And they were in a hurry," said one of the pegasus guards, pointing to a length of severed rope tied around a tall outcrop of rock. "It's as if they want us to follow them, but don't want us to catch up."

Daring examined the rope. "This isn't our rope. It's made of plant fibers, crudely twisted into a cord, but effective."

"So, anyone could have made it?" Agate asked, stepping up to have a look.

Daring shook her head. "There would be no reason to. Plus, it's rather old and weathered. There's even remains of lichen growing on it."

"Where does that leave us?" Lyra asked.

"Absolutely nowhere," Mark said with a snort. "But, it does give me a few ideas."

"Like, maybe we're not alone on these islands?" The archaeologist asked, though it wasn't really a question.

"Darkest Darkness, perhaps?" Lyra suggested, looking from the archaeologist to the fat man.

The pegasus mare narrowed her eyes across the waters. "I don't know. But, it doesn't feel right. This whole thing. Nothing about it feels right."

"We won't get answers standing around," Mark said as she marched right up to the water and looked about. "Where's the radio, let's a get a few rafts over here."

It was always good wisdom for military units to carry radios. Ten or so minutes later, three packages fell from the sky, delivered by the fastest pegasi in the colony.

"Why can't the mail be that fast?" Agate joked humorlessly as she took one of the packages and look it over for instructions.

"Yeah, I don't like the idea of my packages falling from the sky," Lyra countered as she grabbed a lever on the side of the package and yanked. The peach mare yelped as the boat inflated in a matter of seconds. "Never watched any movies in the Frontier?"

The mare glared at her. "Well excuse me for not thinking very straight in this moment of dire crisis."

Lyra sighed. "Sorry, I apologize. Now get your plot in the raft and let's get our foals. Maybe even whoop some kidnapper ass."

"That's the spirit," the sergeant said as he pushed their raft into the water and jumped in after them.

"Wait, what about oars? or a motor?" the doctor asked, suddenly noticing the missing items.

"Don't need them," Do said as she took a length of rope and tied it to the bow of the raft then tossed it to the next one. Once all three rafts were tied together, the pegasi without broken wings all got in the middle boat and began flapping in sync.

Soon enough they were generating thrust, pushing the first raft forward and pulling the other right be hind it. Eventually they were just about skipping across the waves.

"Ah, I see, very efficient," Lyra said, hanging on for dear life. "Are we expected to make it there alive?"

The others in the raft weren't fairing much better. Daring looking back, one hoof clamped down on her pith hat, while her other three were wrapped about a plastic handle in the side of the raft. "What? Never been on an inner tube before?"

"Of course I have," was the doctor's response as the raft began bouncing on some larger waves. "Just never on a suicide mission."

"Oh, come now," the sergeant grinned back at her as the peach mare threatened to strangle him in her vice grip. "This is the easy part."

Murphy answered the call, and an explosion ripped across the sky overhead, drawing everyone's attention as it lit up the sky like ten thousand fireworks.

A fiery airship was falling out of the sky right towards them. Breaking apart as it burned and cracked.

"Everyone in the water now," Mark Smith shouting, making a big splash as he sank below the surface. Everyone else followed without question.

Even underwater they could here the roar of the ship as flew passed to crash a distance away. The debris was the main concern, large chunks splashed over the raft, lighting them on fire and sinking them as the melting plastic split apart. They were left dead in the water.

"No," Lyra wept as she broke the surface and took a deep breath. "No. Why? Oh Maker. Why? I'm sorry I complained about the ride. I just want my Henry back."

"What's this about Henry, dear?" a familiar voice said from behind her, sounding very concerned.

She turned around in shock, half-convinced she had hallucinated it. Behind here was a winged lifeboat, the kind an airship would have for evacuating passengers. Inside it were several very familiar faces. To save time, she greeted the one who had spoke.

"Mama? What are you doing here?"

Comments

[Geminii]

Edit attack!

Mr. Smith's trial
build a boat and ail away
they could see Mark smith
my packages falling form
That;s the spirit
The other in the raft weren't fairing
her other three were rapped
I just want My Henry

[Weavers of Dreams]

9906649
Thank you

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

Good part starts about 1 minute in

[Weavers of Dreams]

9907274
Ha. Loved It.

[Weavers of Dreams]

9926440
That'd be hilarious to see