Act 2, Chapter 3: Can You Say 'Aaaah?'
Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 3: Can You Say 'Aaaah?'
For a society that very often goes around completely naked, Equestria has a thriving fashion and body decoration industry. Expensive dresses. Mane dyes. Decorative horseshoes. Some have even been known to go about installing gemstones in various parts of their anatomies. But there are already plenty of books on fashion; more sociologically interesting is the topic of magical decoration.
On the milder end of magical decorations is illusions; Recently, it had been very much in vogue amongst younger demographics to have long-duration glamors that gave them the appearance of changeling wings, hooves, or horns. And while actual age alteration spells are out of reach of all but the most powerful mages, using illusions to make somepony appear younger is much easier, and quite popular, especially amongst middle-aged and older mares.
At the extreme end, the very fringe, there are those willing to risk having themselves altered permanently with magic. Some have sought draconic eyes or claws, or to emulate the bat wings of Luna's personal guards. Some have attempted to change themselves across pony types, although such magic grants the appearance, but not the function: For example, an earth pony or unicorn with permanent transformed pegasus wings will not be able to fly without an accompanying flight spell, because pegasus flight is more than a matter of simple aerodynamics, a fact too often learned via brief and/or painful experience.
On the practice of cosmetic transformative magics, one Mr. F. Pants, a wise pony and social scholar, once eloquently stated: “What are you? Stupid?”
Taking on transformative magics is allowing magic to work on your very being, form and identity, and even Equestria's very best mages have been known to miscast complicated spells. Magic is unpredictable, often mercurial, and taking on transformations for purposes of appearance seems tantamount to taking on the risks of open-heart surgery for a permanent hooficure.
Additionally, one had best be sure one really wanted those minotaur horns, because deliberate transformation magics, such as these, are very hard to reverse.
--The Scholar
I’d walked down that cobbled lane in front of the Castle more times than I can count.
Most often, I’d been the righteous defender of the law, hauling in a fresh-caught suspect, head hung low, tail between legs. A few times, I’d been the one on the business end of the hoofcuffs, usually either when Jade wanted to make a point or when I’d been drinking. Or both.
The multi-century old stones had been worn smooth, replaced, and worn down again. Rogue dragons had scoured them with flame, and the hooves of many thousands of ponies still trod that path up to fortifications that once stood as the sole bastion against a deadly and dangerous wilderness. Princesses held counsel and warriors fought on those towers.
Years after all those great souls had bravely faced their fates, one Police Detective marched under the portcullis, head held high, ready to face perhaps the scariest monster to ever terrorize that ancient fortress.
And he was grinning.
****
Taxi was, maybe wisely, sitting out my confrontation with Jade in the car. She was halfway into one of her meditative trances and had four sticks of incense sending streamers of smoke from the cracked windows. I paused under the gate to look back at her, watching her controlled breathing. Wisps of smoke curled around her lemon colored ears.
Fighting my own desire to be anywhere but there, I turned away and walked towards the closed wooden doors of the Castle. My heart had finally decided that it was time to pound. Some primal fear built deep into the hearts of children and experienced police ponies alike was causing my adrenaline to surge, but even that wasn’t enough to dampen my smile.
Reaching the doors, I put both hooves on them and pushed them wide. Wind from the change in air-pressure blew my mane back from my face, almost taking my hat off as I strode into the office. The File Cloud was spinning calmly around the ceiling and ponies ran back and forth down the aisles of cubicles as on any other day. Telly sat behind her console, six headsets wrapped around her neck and another around her tail, her aqua face tense with concentration. Dials flew and files dropped from the sky to their various destinations.
As I stopped in the entrance, Telly looked up, and the Cloud let out a noise like a record needle digging into vinyl. Every eye in the building rose and hunted around for the cause before settling on me. Somepony dropped a glass and another spilled coffee on their hooves, squeaking and dancing, but aside that, there was silence.
“Morning!” I shouted, loud enough to be heard from the back aisles. “I’m just here to use the restroom, then I’ll be heading back to the cemetery! By the way, Sergeant Cobalt won the pool!”
The crowd just stared, too agog to do more than shuffle uncomfortably in their spilt paperwork. I let the silence linger as long as it could, then swept off my hat and stepped out of the door, letting it swing shut behind me. Immediate whispers broke out on all sides as everypony found some piece of gossip regarding my absence that desperately needed telling to their closest neighbor. A few called out questions; ‘Where’ve you been?’ ‘Did the Chief kill you?’ ‘Are you here to eat our brains?’
It was nice to be home.
Ignoring the shouted inquiries, I sidled over to Telly’s control console, leaned across, and gently shut the operator’s thin mouth with one toe-tip. Somepony was shouting into her headset from somewhere down the line; she pressed the mute button, leaving them to scream impotently into thin air.
“H-Hardy?” she stammered, pulling the set off her tail and dropping it on the console before stepping around the side to give me a closer inspection. “I... I mean... damn it all.” A tear gathered up in the corner of her eye, but she swiped it away before it could fall. “I know we talked on the phone, but... I’d half convinced myself I somehow mixed up The Chief’s medication with my stash of bonbons.”
“Y’know, for all you lot have been mourning, did anypony look for me?” I asked.
“We got the report of you walking into the Monte Cheval and everypony just... sort of...”
“Assumed I got my flank turned into puree and fed to the fishies?” I quirked one eyebrow at her.
“It was a pretty good assumption, you selfish bastard! Why didn’t you call ahead? What happened to you?” She gave me a light push with one hoof to emphasize the question.
“I’m sorry, ask me that again? Why didn’t I call Iris Jade to tell her I’m going to be in the Castle in a half hour?”
Telly scratched her jawline. “I see your point. You want me to call up now?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. If she has some lethal trap on the doors, I’d prefer she didn’t have time to arm it.”
“Suit yourself.” The radio pony shrugged and waved me towards the staircase up to Jade’s office. “You haven’t been officially declared dead yet. Just ‘missing.’ Once it’s official, I’ll get some real nice flowers to put on your grave. I might even wear a dress.”
“Awww, that’s real sweet, Telly.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and she pushed me away, turning red in the face.
“That’s sexual harassment, yahknow.”
“Go ahead and report me.” I threw her a wink, then started towards the upper floors. I caught her lightly touching the spot I’d pecked her and she stomped her hoof, running back to her console and ducking her head under the edge of the control panel.
I could still feel the attentive eye-tracks of many ponies darting up and down the back of my neck, but if Jade knew I was in the building, most of the glass in her office window would already have needed replacing. It didn’t pay to be the bearer of such news, if only because you could easily become collateral damage.
****
I paused again in the carpeted hall outside of her office, flanked on either side by the suits of empty armor; There, I put my head between my foreknees and downed some lovely deep breaths, trying to gather my resolve. Just because you’re about to do something insane doesn’t mean you are insane; therefore, doing it does not magically shut off the parts of your mind that are screaming ‘Don’t do this stupid, stupid thing.’
I checked my battery. It was still blinking. I had at least some power left. With luck, I wouldn’t pitch over dead on the carpet or have to beg for the use of Jade’s lamp socket. That would probably ruin my big moment.
In the name of theatrics, I reared onto my back legs, placed both front hooves on the double doors, and slammed them open with all my strength. As if coordinating with the spectacle, my coat billowed out behind me as the tall portals swung to the walls with a reverberating bang that made my ears ring. Perfect.
Chief Iris Jade, the terror of the Castle, Chief of Police for the most dangerous city in Equestria, sat hunched over her desk with a fountain pen clutched in her pea-green telekinetic field. Her drawn features, creased with the weight of a city’s safety and heavy doses of semi-legal psychoactives, stayed on the paper in front of her despite the clamorous noise. She seemed somehow small, sitting behind that huge wooden edifice, in the largely empty office. I knew it was a carefully constructed lie, built to fool anypony who might think her weak into overstepping their bounds; she took a perverse glee in proving otherwise.
The candy bowl on her desk had been refilled; an empty box labeled ‘Starlight Industries’ sat in her otherwise empty garbage can.
I hopped up onto one of the chairs in front of her immense oaken desk, rolled onto my back, and threw my legs over the sides. It wasn’t comfortable, but then, it wasn’t supposed to be. I waited, picking my teeth with the edge of one horse-shoe, for the Chief to acknowledge me.
Ours was a battle of wills on her home turf. She might not have expected me, but that didn’t mean she had to act like she was surprised. Jade didn’t get to be Chief of Police by being easy to ruffle.
After a long moment, she signed her name to the sheet of paper and set her pen aside. Blowing a strand of her mane out of her face, she raised her dominating gaze, examining me like an enthusiastic bug collector who’s found themselves a prize beetle and can’t decide precisely how they want to skewer it. Her pupils were enormous, though her expression remained entirely emotionless, devoid of even the most basic signals one might use to work out her mood. Whatever she was on, it must have been amazing stuff.
“Detective,” she said, at last.
“Chief,” I answered, in exactly the same tone of voice.
“I take it, from your presence, you have come to tell me precisely where you’ve been for the last month?” she asked in a clipped monotone.
I fiddled my hoof around her candy-bowl, drawing a smiley face in the pills. Adding some dimples, I sat back to examine my artwork.
“Ehhh... not really. Why? Was I supposed to?”
If I live a thousand years, I doubt I’ll ever see a more satisfying look of surprise than the one on Jade’s face at that instant. It might have been my imagination, but the lights seemed to dim and the shadows to stretched out, as The Chief rose from her seat and planted her hooves on her desk.
“Excuse me, Detective?!” she snarled, her horn sparking menacingly.
“I said, ‘Not really,’ Chief.” I answered, casually. “The dead girl is still dead, although I’m not anymore, thank goodness. Did find out her name, before I died. Ruby Blue. Pretty little thing. Mob boss is dead. Oh, but you wouldn’t know about him. Never mind.” Picking up one of the pills from her candy stash, I rolled it around on my hoof.
Jade’s razor thin right eyebrow tried to climb onto her scalp. “Hardy, I think it best you explain yourself very quickly.”
“I died. Mob boss died. Girl in the alley was a hooker. Nice kid, apparently. Don’t know her story yet, but I’ll figure it out, probably around the time I figure out who shot me.” I turned the pill and made to put it in my mouth, then thought better of it. “I probably shouldn’t have one of those. The ghost in my chest might not like it.”
There are probably only a few emotions I’ve ever seen on Chief Jade. Anger is a big one. She has lots of flavors of that, but then, her job is not one that breeds calm contemplation. Amusement and sometimes generalized menacing are two others she’ll display, if they’ll give her an edge in a confrontation.
Raw, brow-twisting confusion is not one she shows all that often.
She narrowed her eyes to slits and asked, “Hardy, are you drunk right now?”
“Haven’t touched a drop since I woke up.” I said, honestly. “By the way, I found Swift after I got out of the cooler. She was eating chicken salads and writing depressing poetry. She threw a griffin off a building.”
Jade dropped her bony flank into her chair, which she scooted under the desk, then crossed her forelegs and gave me a Look.
“What... really happened, Hardy?” she murmured, all the fury and pomp gone from her voice, replaced with curiosity. “You walked into a death trap, then you show up here after a month sounding like you’ve been on a bender the whole time...”
I shrugged and bent my neck to look across at her. “If you want a full debrief, you’ll have to get me a big ream of paper. It’ll all be lies and maybe not as much fun to read as the kid’s, but I promise I’ll maybe think about filling out a report. Until then, as a matter of courtesy, I figured I should tell you what I’m going to be doing.”
“What you’re going to be doing?!” Her anger rose again, only to be quickly tamped down when she saw I’d said that specifically to get her riled. “What you’re going to be doing is going home until I figure out what to do with you! You walked into a public building, without a warrant, orders, or backup, with guns drawn!” She tore her top drawer open and slapped a newspaper on the desk. It had a security camera picture of Taxi, Swift, and I inside the Monte Cheval’s lobby. “You have any clue how much flak you brought us?!”
“Can’t.” I checked my hooftip, then rubbed it on my coat.
“Can’t... what?” she growled.
“Can’t go home. They burned my apartment to the ground. Don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Detective, I’m going to chalk this little interview up to some form of temporary mental illness.” Jade seethed, speaking through gritted teeth. “You’ll be speaking to the department psyc-”
“No.”
Jade stopped mid-sentence, as though nopony had ever interrupted her before. Impudence was one thing. Open defiance was something else.
“Detective-”
“Now you bring it up?” I broke in, before she could get up a good head of steam. ”Swift is a section eight, too. You might want to get on that paper-work. Doubt you’ll want her tactical vest back, though. It’s had vomit and a few different kinds of blood on it.”
Her horn glowed, then her entire desk did, before it was slammed to one side of the room with a sound not unlike a badger being force-fed a bucket of nails. Jade strode forward through the now clear path to thump a hoof on my chest. “Screw the psychologist, you are going in a holding cell!”
I stood, kicking the chair sideways so it landed with a loud thump, out of the way, so I had a clear path of retreat. “If you think you can put me there, good luck. I showed up here as a courtesy, and to let you know what I’m going to be doing. I will be investigating my death and Miss Ruby Blue’s. When, and if, I survive long enough to get answers then I’ll come and write you the longest, most interesting report you’ve read in years. Then you can go all carrot peeler-y on me.”
I thought, briefly, she might actually explode. Her pupils were now two different sizes. I think she was just uncertain enough as to whether I was deranged enough to actually attempt to shoot her that she didn’t immediately try to break all of my bones.
“You’re fired,” she said, carefully and without much conviction, gauging my reaction.
I reached into my pocket, fished out my badge, and tossed the loop of chain around her horn, leaving it to dangle in her face.
“Was there anything else?”
Again, that gorgeous surprise. She was actually speechless, as the metal shield rocked past her face like a clock pendulum, slicing across priceless moments in time. I wish I’d had a camera. Just one snapshot of Jade looking genuinely unsettled would have made my whole year.
Taking that silence as a ‘no,’ I swung around and strode out of her office, whistling a joyful tune. I grabbed the rope beside the door in my teeth and swung the portal closed behind me, leaving the most stunned Police Chief in Detrot’s history with my badge resting on her nose.
I took a few seconds to savor my victory.
Then, like anypony with a survival instinct, I broke into a full gallop towards the stairs, running for the back of the building and the Night Trotter parked beside the maintenance exit.
****
Tearing open the cab's rear door, I threw myself in, yanking it shut. Taxi spun up the rear wheels so hard a cloud of smoke spat against the side of the Castle, peeling out of there and around the closest corner at speeds that were at best illegal, and at worst impossible. I imagined I could already hear sirens in close pursuit, but that was nothing unusual around the department and, in all likelihood, Jade was still sitting in her office processing what'd just happened. At least, I hoped that was what she was doing.
"You wanna give me the short version of what you just did in there?" Taxi asked, gripping the wheel tightly in both hooves. "When you came sprinting out of that door I half expected gunshots."
I laid my head in the window-sill, letting wind rustle my face-fur. "She fired me."
"Well, duh...I didn't think for a second you'd let her pull you from this case, and since you, y’know, died, I doubt she'd let you investigate your own murder. You know what I’m asking! What happened?"
I gave her a brief summary, right up to my glorious escape. Throughout, I noticed us slowly speeding up.
“You... didn’t...” she murmured.
“I did.”
“I... geesh. I get... I mean, I get why you did it. No sense dragging the DPD through the mud with you. I’ve seen that look in your eye since you showed up at the High Seas. The one that says ‘I’m about to throw myself down a manticore’s throat and hope it chokes’.”
“If Cosmo has contacts in Detrot Police Department, you know whoever killed me does.” I explained. “Our best bet is to go off the grid until we have some idea which direction the next attack is coming from.”
My driver shuffled her hooves up and down the sides of the wheel, as though she couldn’t quite get comfortable, looking nervously out both windows. “You’re sure there’s going to be a ‘next attack’?”
“I think it’s best to assume there probably will be.”
She exhaled, re-adjusting her mirror so she could look me in the face. ”It does mean we’re both now as unemployed as it’s equinely possible to get. We have nowhere to stay, no money, and half a tank of fuel. Any thoughts on those issues, since you seem dead set on adding problems to the already huge pile?”
“A few. First, I want to check in on Swift.”
Taxi rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a minute, then revved up the motor and swept us off towards the Vivarium. Her lips were moving in silent prayer the whole way.
****
The Vivarium was as quiet as I’d seen it. Minox was still on the front gate, but he’d found himself a stool to sit on and was just letting through a small group of tourists who were the only bunch in line. As we parked, the minotaur stepped off the curb and ran to meet us, a charging freight-train of beef. He skidded to a stop and cordially opened Taxi’s door, holding out one of his ham-sized fists so she could step out from behind the wheel.
“Good evenink’ miz Taxi. It iz gut to see joo again,” he lowed as my driver stepped into his arms, putting her hooves up on his huge chest.
“Good to see you too, Minox.” She gave him a little kiss on the chin, which was the closest spot she could reach considering his height. His ears flushed with pleasure.
Giving me a subtle bow, Minox waved us towards the smaller employee entrance beside the main door. “Come, Detective. Miz Stella iz vaiting for joo.”
“Take me to Swift, first. Then we’ll see to Stella,” I directed him.
“No need, Detective. Miz Stella and Miz Swift are in ze same place.” He held open the door and we slipped into the club.
****
Via another discretely placed service door, we came around to the secret elevator at the back of the building. Minox hauled on the rope, then lowered us hand-over-hand into the darkness. It was a jerkier and much slower trip than the first time down, but he managed it with a minimum of fuss until, after much huffing and puffing, the wooden elevator rattled and clanked its way into the cavern complex underneath the Vivarium.
“Shouldn’t you be upstairs guarding the door?” I asked him.
“I am on ze, how joo say, ‘break.’ Ze Stilettos take over. I take joo to Miz’ Stella.” he rumbled, then pulled a flashlight from the back pocket of his tuxedo and fanned the light across the cavern tunnels. The humid air cloyed my lungs, and in the distance, water dripped from stalactites onto still pools. We followed the beefcake, me with my eyes ahead, and Taxi with hers on Minox’s rear end.
It was comforting, in some way, to know that my month in the cooler hadn’t changed my driver terribly much, aside the blue highlights that still crept through when the light hit her mane just right.
After a short trot, we came to the blank wall and Minox tapped out a series of knocks on the stone with his knuckles. There was a wait of several seconds, then the heavy stone began to shimmer with pearlescent light. It slid easily out of the way, grinding into the slot in the wall.
Beyond, up on the catwalk set amongst all of Stella’s incredible museum pieces, there was a miniature field triage. Five or six ponies moved around a small hospital bed surrounded by a white plastic sheet, some taking readings and writing in clipboards, others conversing with one another. Machines beeped and booped, taking readings on the patient who reclined in the bed. Swift was still down, thank the heavens. She lay amongst all those machines with electrodes on her forehead and an IV drip in her leg. After Glow lay on a pillow beside the bed, her old face pinched with worry as she watched over her sleeping granddaughter.
I looked past my partner’s sleeping body to Stella, who hovered over the whole operation. He’d hauled his vast purple body entirely out of the water and lay on a macroeconomy-sized chaise lounge with a pair of gigantic reading glasses perched on his nose, clutching a pony-sized book in two claws. For once, he seemed to be only wearing a token dash of lipstick and a bit of mascara; It was strangely heartening to know that there were times even Stella chose not to prioritize appearances.
As the weighty door opened, he glanced up, setting his novel to one side. He was the only one to even acknowledge we’d come in. The doctors and nurses remained where they were.
Minox stood aside, waiting for Taxi and I to move through before stepping back into the tunnel. The door glowed again, slamming back into place.
“Detective! Welcome back!” Stella called out, rolling off of his throne into the deep pool with a splash that sent ripples all the way across the underground lake to lap against the thin shore. That was when everypony else stopped what they were doing and looked up at us.
After Glow rose shakily to her hooves, her knees cracking and popping, as the sea serpent flowed across the water to the edge of the catwalk nearest us, gripping it in both claws.
“Stella,” I acknowledged, stepping up on the catwalk and moving over to the bed. The doctors made room for me to stand beside Swift. She looked pale, which made her seem almost pink, but anypony laying in a hospital bed looks sickly. It’s some trick of the environment. “How is the kid? She was in rough shape when I found her.”
His honey-colored eyes flicked towards the bed and its occupant, then to somepony standing behind the curtain. “Doctor Pickle!”
My ears perked and I grabbed the curtain in my teeth, tearing it back from a crouching dom who was doing his best to look like part of the catwalk.
“You!” I blurted, grabbing the lime colored sadist by the front of his labcoat and yanking him to his hooves, holding him an inch from my face. “Stella, do not tell me you’ve had this scumbag working on my partner!”
“Get off me, you ridiculous pony!” he cried, pushing ineffectually at my hooves. His horn started to glow; I gave it a good smack with my hooftip and he winced, the shine dying. Pulling him around, I shoved the smaller pony up against the railing.
“Use heart-exploding magics on somepony, will you?! You better not have laid that on my partner!” I shouted, shaking him.
“Take this maniac off me!” He struggled, trying to shove me away.
A soft glittering field suffused my hooves, pulling them from around Pickle’s neck. He stumbled back against the catwalk’s railing, rubbing his throat with one hoof. The other doctors hadn’t made any move to stop me and seemed to be exchanging knowing looks. It was After Glow’s horn shining, pulling me away from the stallion.
Stella had an amused smile on his thick lips. “Sweet detective, Doctor Pickle may have... unconventional methods, but he is more knowledgeable about equine anatomy than any other pony in my employ.”
I glowered at the doctor and he swallowed visibly, adjusting his white coat.
“Awww, knock it off,” After Glow grunted. “Pickle’s a shit, but he’s our shit, so ye don’t git ta shoot’em. Besides, he knows ponies’ insides an’ mah little bird needs... well, she needs somethin’.” Grabbing Pickle in her telekinetic field, she upended him by his tail, dragging him around to hang in front of her. “Now, ye wanna tell us what’s wrong with mah granddaughter?”
Pickle crossed his forelegs and stuck out his lower lip, which was funny to see on a pony hanging upside down. “I will not, especially if I’m going to be treated like a sack of grain!”
“Unless ye wanna be treated like a cent-ri-fuge, ye’ll speak and speak quick!” After Glow gave his tail a dangerous twist that sent him spinning in a slow circle.
Pickle’s petulant composure broke down immediately and he began to wave his hooves at the ground, trying to get down. “Sweet Sun, no!” he gasped, trying to grab the nearest object, which happened to be the railing edging the catwalk.
“Miss Glow,” Stella admonished, clucking his forked tongue, “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Glow gave him a sour look, but set Pickle back on the catwalk. He stood, brushing himself off, quickly recovering his bluster as he straightened his greased mane. “That’s better... harumph!”
“Now then, Mister Pickle. Would you be so kind as to give us your diagnosis of my god-child’s condition for the benefit of the lovely Detective?” Stella asked, politely.
The other medical players made room for Pickle as he strutted around the table like a peacock, snatching a clipboard off the end of the bed. “Where would you like me to begin? She’s dehydrated, malnourished, and concussed to start. If I’m going by the sores and state of her wings, she hasn’t bathed or preened in at least ten days.”
I felt a prickle of guilt.
She’d trusted me.
She walked into Cosmo’s office, trusting me to keep her safe and my arrogance should have, by all rights, put both of us in the ground for good. I’d been given a second chance, but not soon enough to save her from total collapse.
Taxi had dragged me out of my funk when my partner was killed, mostly with lots of coffee and threats of violence if I touched the bottle until my head was on straight. Swift should have had her family. Why she’d chosen to run and hide was something I intended to ask the second she was up.
“You still have that spell for looking inside a pony?” I asked.
“My body-scan spell?” Pickle inquired, stroking his horn lightly with one hoof. “That was what we were planning on doing next. It seems she’s recently either been contaminated with magic or somepony has cast some very elaborate spells on or around her. My colleagues and I were just discussing whether or not it was a good idea when you barged in.”
Ignoring the jab, Taxi bit her lower lip and asked, “Well, we were in a school about a month ago with high levels of magical contamination. Could that have been it?”
Pickle slipped a vinyl flogger out of the inside pocket of his coat and began spinning it with his magic. It looked like a nervous habit, twirling his S&M toy as a unicorn accountant might twirl a pen. “While I would love to pin that on you two being nitwits and failing to watch where you walk, no... these magics are significantly older than a month.”
“How much older?” I asked, tugging off my hat and laying it at the foot of the bed.
“Who can say?” The dom swiped his flogger across one shoulder, leaving it hanging there. “You want to come up with a decent way of measuring magical decay over about six months, the Academy would love to talk to you.”
“Alright, fair enough. Gimme worst case scenario if we cast the body-scan and it goes wrong,” I said.
“Worst case?” Pickle shrugged. “She ends up not needing a mane-cut this year and she’ll have to learn to scratch her ass without the use of her wings because all of her fur and feathers will have fallen out. They’ll grow back, but it’ll be pretty embarrassing.”
I sat and held out my hoof to After Glow. “Miss Glow, she’s your granddaughter. I don’t know what all might be wrong with her or where she’s been this last month. I’ll say this, though. She attacked me in that coffee bar and tried to take a chunk out of my throat with her teeth.”
The elderly mare considered her options, then flapped one wrinkled ear against her head. “Can’t see as it’s gonna make things much worse iffen’ ah end up havin’ to knit her some sweaters. Go on an’ do it.”
Without another word, Pickle closed his eyes and raised his horn. The other doctors backed up a few meters, not wishing to interfere with the delicate spellwork. I shoved my hooves into my pockets, wishing I’d thought to bring a snack.
A thin beam of light projected from the insufferable stallion’s forehead, spreading out into a flat, glowing field that intersected Swift’s body, moving from her head down to her ankles, then back again.
“...That can’t be...right...” Pickle murmured, his magic playing back and forth over her head a few times, then across her abdomen centering just below her navel, then back at her face. With a jerk, the spell faded and the good doctor squeaked loudly, tumbling back from the bed.
“What? What is it?!” Taxi yelped.
Pickle’s eyes were round with fear as he stumbled further away and slumped onto his backside, staring at my prone partner’s face. “H-he-her...”
“Her what, boy? Spit it out!” After Glow barked, dragging him back over. The Chief Stilletto was not a pony one kept waiting, if mostly because she tended to puncture things to pass the time.
“Her teeth! H-her teeth!” he managed, shakily before his eyes rolled up in his head and he dropped onto his back, all four legs in the air.
“Her teeth?” I gave the stallion a light shake, but he was unresponsive. “Come on, dammit, what’s with her teeth?
The animal part of my brain became aware of lots of people watching me. There was a certain expectancy in all of that attention. Again, I’d been volunteered for the unpleasant duty.
I blew a frustrated breath through my nose and picked up a pencil. “You better make for damn sure she’s still unconscious...” I growled at After Glow.
“Boy, if she ain’t out after the spells ah laid, ain’t nothin’ in this world gonna keep her from bein’ lively,” she replied, her horn giving off a gentle flash.
With my pencil, I gently pried open my partner’s lips. One of the nurses pulled a penlight out and shined it into Swift’s mouth.
If she’d had a hat full of rabbits in there, I think I’d have been less surprised. As it was, I had to restrain myself from a good’ol filly-ish shriek at what I saw. The nurse wasn’t quite so gritty. She let out a frightened whinny and dropped the lamp, which rolled underneath the bed.
Unfortunately, I didn’t need it to see what’d sent Pickle into a paroxysm of terror.
Something was very wrong with my partner’s dentistry. Every tooth aside the front few seemed to have grown a half inch and sharpened to a razor sharp point, curving slightly inward and interlocking with one another tightly. Two long, nasty canines, obviously for ripping meat, protruded from her upper gums. I nudged them lightly, but they seemed to be attached, and solidly so.
Those teeth had no business being in a pony’s head. If she’d caught me with that bite in the Plot Hole, she might have torn my throat out.
I wiped my pencil thoroughly on the bed spread, mostly using the action as an excuse to gather my thoughts. In general, I’ve found that if somepony in the room doesn’t look scared when something nasty happens that everyone else will listen to them, no matter what silly thing they may have to say.
“Well, Detective?” Stella inquired.
I shook my head. “I’m going to take a guess and say ensorcellment, unless she’s been seeing a dentist with an ugly sense of humor this last month. She’s got the teeth of... I don’t even know. I don’t know of anything with teeth like that. Some sort of predator.”
“What? Yer... lemme see that!” Glow snatched the pencil from me and pushed it into my partner’s mouth, taking in the bizarre sight. Swinging around she yanked Pickle up into the air. A rush of wind caught him across the cheek, rocking his head on his shoulders. “Wake up!” She shouted, then delivered another magical slap. He came out of his swoon howling.
“Putmedownputmedown!”
After Glow obliged, dumping him on his face. Pickle put his paw on his chest, forcing his breathing to even out. “Ye faint again, next time yer gonna wake up takin’ a swim! Now, ye wanna tell us what in the whole wide world mighta caused mah granddaughter... what mighta caused that?”
The medical-dom settled his hooves under himself, trying to put himself back together. I think I might have been more shaken if my month - come to think of it, my last 24 hours - hadn’t already been the weirdest of my life, but this was just frosting on a very odd cake.
“I-I’ve no idea,” he sputtered. “A spell. Definitely a spell. A very, very complicated spell. It’s still working, too! Her stomach is... it’s not even a pony stomach anymore. More like a bear’s. There’s something... something’s in her brain, too! It’s changing things!”
I tried to remain calm, but my shoulders were feeling like corded steel. Thinking under pressure is something I’m good at, but I couldn’t keep the worry from my words. “You say it’s a spell. Nothing accidental?”
“Yes, idiot!” Pickle snapped, turning to face the lake as he tried to force himself not to hyperventilate. “Somepony cast that! It’s too complex for random magical mutation!”
“No way to find out who, then?”
“I don’t know how.” He chewed at his lip, swinging his flogger around his shoulders.
I turned to After Glow, who was gritting her teeth so tightly her jaw popped. I tried to force myself to sound like I knew what I was doing. “You have ponies who can do anti-magic, right?”
Glow nodded. “Ah got ponies can break enchantments, sure. Ain’t nothin’ will fix what already happened. Different transformation magics don’t play nice together.”
Stella swung his bulk down over the bed, lightly stroking Swift’s mane with one claw. “My dear little bird... I am so sorry. I should have watched you more closely.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility to watch her.” I sighed, feeling my stomach tighten with the cruel admission. “It was mine. I’m her partner.”
The dragon’s flicked his tongue between his teeth, running it down to his chin as though tasting the air. Come to think of it, he might have been doing just that.
“I... see, Detective,” he murmured, after some seconds’ pause. “You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were ready to play. Well then, if I may, what will be your first move?”
It was a valid question. My itinerary was already packed and I hadn't even had breakfast yet.
The path hadn't changed and I knew, in my freshly magicked ticker, that I needed Swift. She might have been greener than grass and crazier than a bucket of monkeys on Beam, but she was a fantastic shot and loyal to a fault. The pony I’d seen in the Plot Hole wasn’t my partner. That was a broken shell.
I hoped whatever magic she was under was responsible for that. If it wasn’t, our situation might be a whole lot worse. Still, there was only one good option.
No rest for the unemployed, homeless, and hunted.
Hooking the edge of a horseshoe in Pickle’s coat, I shoved him over to the bedside. "Fix my partner. While you’re at it, try to figure out what was done to her and the purpose of this spell. If I’m going to hunt down those responsible, I need intel.”
The dragon settled back beneath the waters, sinking up to his neck so he could sit at a level height with the end of the catwalk. “I’ll see it done. Anti-magic is relatively simple and, regardless of complexity, it should not take long to arrest the progress of this enchantment once we have enough horns to apply to it. If it hasn’t damaged her up to this point, we must hope its removal won’t either.”
“Good. I’ve got to make some calls. There’s a certain ‘bug’ who might have some information about what put Swift in this state and I want to pick its brains.”
Stella tapped the railing on the catwalk. “May I ask if you’re referring to the ‘representative’ of the Ladybug collective? If you are, I think you will find it upstairs.”
There was no hiding my surprise. “Queenie is here?!”
“I believe so, yes,” Stella replied, teasing his throat fin with one painted talon. “That delightful creature came in some days ago asking when your corpse was going to be up and about. Strange soul, but I think harmless. I made use of its talents while we were renovating our security measures. If only all my employees would work for access to my collection of soap opera reruns,” the sea serpent said with a wistful smile, losing himself in pleasant thoughts for a second. “Either way, the creature seemed certain that your death was impermanent. I, myself, was less optimistic, but I’m always glad to be proven wrong. It happens so rarely these days.”
“You thought I was a pawn,” I reminded him.
“Yes. You see? Glad to be proven wrong.”
I gestured for Taxi to follow me and she fell in behind as I started for the hidden tunnel.
“Get this bunch to work and have Scarlet or Minox come find me when the situation changes. My batteries are running low.”
“Of course, my kissable colt. I believe you can use the power systems in the DJ booth. I’ll have your bagels sent up,” Stella replied in a sickly-sweet way that reminded me of an especially aggressive and cheek-pinching aunt on my mother’s side. “If it is here today, you’ll find your Ladybug with Gyro Technic. They both have a... fondness... for Neightoven.”
****
Minox let us into the club just as the early afternoon regulars were coming in off first shift, slapping hooves and backsides to some harmonic garbage hot off the presses and about twenty years too young for me to consider it worth listening to. The lights were up bright enough so I wasn’t risking stumbling over or into anypony and bless the stars, they’d cranked the bass down to a tolerable level. It was a healthy herd for a time of day most bars and restaurants are dead quiet. Some were making straight for the back rooms to have their lunch-time bump and grind while others appeared to be just settling in for a cocktail and a plate of nachos.
Neither Gyro nor Queenie seemed to be in the DJ booth as Taxi and I wandered across the half empty dance floor. There did seem to be a few more Stilettos than usual, creeping about in their white sashes or standing guard at doorways. I supposed that even a month on, Stella was still feeling a touch of blameless paranoia. I know I would have, dead enemy or not.
As I’d so recently demonstrated, it’s hard to say for certain who might still be walking around, even when you’ve seen the corpse. A city heavy on the magic is like that.
“Huh...where do you think they are?” I mused, curiously.
“Let’s check the sound station. DJs usually leave a note if they have to go pee or something and Technic only works until late evening,” Taxi replied, discretely snatching a martini glass off a passing waiter’s tray and tipping it back into her muzzle in one gulp. She made a face. “Bleh, too dry.”
We tried the door nearest the booth which was guarded by only one Stiletto who seemed a bit familiar. I grinned and put my foreleg up in greeting. “Zeta?”
The zebra rope mistress bowed her mohawked head. “Detective! It is pleasurable to see you again.”
“I hear you’re one of the group I have to thank for my fresh lease on life.”
“It is an unusual circumstance when a creature may be reincarnated as themselves.” The zebra raised her chin with a touch of pride in her words, “I could not let an opportunity to witness such a unique event pass me by. My next life shall have many experiences to draw on as result of our acquaintance.”
“I wasn’t reincarnated, I died and-” I paused as she gave me a confused look. I shook my head and dropped it. I had neither the time, inclination, nor vocabulary to fight advanced zebra logic. “Thank you anyway. Look, have you seen Technic? We’re looking for a really big insect and Stella said it would be with-”
Zeta's normally very neutral expression soured instantly. "If you seek Queenie, the creature is in the booth. How such a sweet being as the Ladybug can tolerate an arrogant, lecherous wretch like that is beyond me."
"Not a Gyrotechnic fan?" Taxi asked, slapping her side with her tail.
"May he get mange," the Stiletto said, curtly, holding open the curtain beside her. "Down the hall and to the left. You may ignore the sign on the door. He hasn't had a successful sexual encounter since he started working here."
****
‘If the booth is rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’. If it’s empty, fuck off. I’m probably somewhere getting laid.’
The sign was in loopy black marker and hanging by a bit of string from the knob of the DJ booth. We both stopped to stare at it for a second, then Taxi shoved the door of the booth open.
A red and black rocket flew out of the tiny room over her head and buzzed around me in a wildly enthusiastic circle, the breeze off its nearly invisible wings knocking my hat onto my shoulders.
“DetectiveHardyHardBoiledYou’reAliveWhereveyoubeenWeMissedyouso!” it buzzed, bobbing up and down as it inspected every inch of me.
I waited patiently for it come round again before putting one hoof on the bug’s chest and gently pinning it to the nearest wall. Its wings fluttered feebly, then settled under its carapace. “It’s good to see you too, Queenie.”
The huge insect’s mandibles flipped and wobbled in its mouth as it chewed on something and its multi-faceted eyes seemed to be changing colors, first blue, then black, before cycling around to a deep rich red.
“Queenie... are you on something?” Taxi asked, waving her hoof in front of its face. It followed her leg up and down, then wiggled its jaws at me as I released it.
“Only five cups of the finest coffee Equestria has to offer.” A posh voice behind us brought me around. Gyro Technic stood there in the door of the DJ booth, a mug hanging in his magical field and a whole array of glowing necklaces and gemstones wrapped around his neck and ankles. “So, you back to futz about with my equipment, blow my fuses, or bull me out of good music?” He gave my driver a pointed glare and she turned her nose up at him.
“How about ‘none of the above’? Don’t need you, although...” I tapped my chin, releasing Queenie, who zipped up around the ceiling and began firmly beating its head against a light fixture. “-I could use a wall socket and some privacy .”
“Well, you can go find one someplace else. Your damn badge buys you nothing with me, after what you pulled!” Gyro swept his silky, rose colored mane off his shoulders and sipped some of his coffee. Strains of classical music drifted from the small glass-enclosed room behind him and a small picnic, complete with a coffee pot and a stack of watercress and what looked to be mayo sandwiches. My stomach growled at me.
“You know, Sweets?” I said, giving my driver a coy smile. “I seem to have misplaced my badge. Have you seen it?”
She gave me a quizzical look, then her lips formed an ‘o’ and she mirrored my smile. “No, no, Hardy... I haven’t seen it. Did you maybe... leave it in your other jacket?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve seen it at least once since a bunch assassins burned my apartment down to save this miserable, loud-mouth piece of crap’s job,” I answered, still in the same tone of indifferent wonder. “Now, was that before or after I was shot in the chest and killed?”
“Oh, definitely before.” She bit her lip, then a very exaggerated light bulb seemed to go off behind her eyes. “Now that you mention it, I remember where you left it!”
“Where was that, Sweets?” I asked, staring straight at Gyro who was listening, curiously and with a bit of wariness, to our exchange.
“You left it hanging on the horn of the Chief of Police, after you told her to go buck herself.”
“Thaaat’s riiight, isn’t it?” I exclaimed. “And, having done something like that after what has been a truly stressful month, some stinkin’ spin jockey keeping me from my quiet would be setting himself up for one heckuva rough day.”
“What are you two going on a-” Gyro didn’t have time for another snarky comment before Taxi was on him, her hooves tapping out a double strike on his neck and chest. He went stiff from head to tail. His horn sparked weakly, then darkened, dropping his cup of coffee on the thick carpet. The disk jockey’s expression was frozen perfectly in that half-uncertain, irritable state with just an echo of burgeoning surprise. He blinked a few times, then made a very low mewling noise at us.
“Nicely done. You got the face right and everything,” I exclaimed as my driver polished her hoof on her chest.
“Not my best work, but I’m pleased with it. Where do you want him?”
“Meh, prop him in the corner.”
I grabbed one of Queenie’s rear legs in my teeth. It tasted like cigarette ashes and bad Neighponese from the joint up the street. The bug was still determinedly beating its head against the enclosed light as I pulled it to the ground and dragged it through the door of the DJ booth. Taxi finished positioning Gyro in the hallway, re-adjusting his face into something a little more natural and setting his coffee cup on between his front hooves so anypony passing might think he was just lost deep in thought, then followed me in and shut the door.
Shoving a box of records over to sit on and staying carefully below the level of the window out to the dance floor, I checked the turntable to see how many tunes were left in the play list. There seemed to be about a half hour left on the current record, so I let it play, snatching up one of the sandwiches and stuffing it into my mouth.
Queenie zoomed up and pressed its face against the nearest speaker, humming along to the bombastic rhythm of a hundred-year-dead composer’s parade song.
Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I then offered the pot to Taxi, who waved it away, but did take one of the sandwiches. We ate, listening to music, enjoying the little feast. It was nice to have time on my side again, even if it was only for a few hours.
There was also the issue of how to broach a particular subject with my driver. I was hoping she might be a litmus test for how the rest of Swift’s family might react.
“Sweets, we need to go over something. I think you may deck me while I’m telling you this. Could you give me a chance to explain before violence ensues?” I began.
“Of course, Hardy,” she smiled, chewing the crust off another one of the sandwiches. “You know you can tell me anything. I’d look pretty silly if I killed you after all the trouble I went to.”
I put my hoof over my eyes. “That’s less than comforting.”
“If you want comfort, get yourself a teddy bear,” she replied, shoving her sandwich into one cheek so she could talk around it. “I dwive teh car. Now dwop the pretense. Wa’s on your minb?”
Setting the last bite of my sandwich on the table, I watched Queenie slowly float in a circle, dancing in mid-air as the caffeine worked its way through the bug’s system. I’d died once. It wasn’t so bad.
“Swift’s been eating meat.”
Taxi choked on her sandwich, spraying me with crumbs. “What?!”
I brushed my coat off, trying not to look like I was bracing for a flying hoof to the forehead. “Last month, Sykes fed her some at the hotel, the day we met. She was sneaking tidbits after that, but at the Plot Hole she was eating a full on chicken salad.”
“And you didn’t think that was weird?!” she gasped, grabbing the cup of coffee and trying to clear her throat before continuing, “Hardy, meat is not good for ponies!”
“I thought she was probably going home and puking it up or something. My brain was-”
“-on the case. That’s always your stupid excuse, isn’t it?!” she snapped, angrily.
“I had more important things going on! What was I supposed to do? Slap her hoof? Besides, Juniper used to eat jelly. Straight. No bread, just big bottles of jelly. The back of our police cruiser was full of them!”
“That’s a little different, don’t you think?!” Taxi shouted, rising to her hooves and pacing back and forth.
“At the time, no, no I didn’t,” I said, folding the ear closest to her so she wouldn’t deafen me in the enclosed space. “Now that she’s got chompers you could rip the tits off a dragon with, I’m reconsidering that position.”
“Brilliant. What are you going to tell After Glow and Stella?”
“Not a clue. You were the dry run. And since my pre-owned heart is still beating and I don’t have a secondary concussion, I think it went well.”
“Errrg...” Every muscle in Taxi’s body tensed as she fought the urge to pummel me. A month ago, she might have done. Her self restraint was impressive. “Fine! What did you want Queenie for? I already asked what happened after Swift left! It wouldn’t tell me!”
“Youareentitledtoknow, DetectiveHardyHardBoiled!”
“Why me? And could you slow down. You sound like a record player turned up too fast.” I said, turning to the insect.
Queenie bobbed affirmatively, turning end over end until it bumped into a wall. “Weee...seeem to be afffeeected cheeemically. We will t-t-t-ryyy.” The insect drew itself up. “Y-you are the pegusususus p-partner aaand a p-p-police poony.”
I bit my lip, then banged my forehead against the floor a couple of times.
“What... was that about?” said Taxi. “If you were looking for a concussion, you could have just asked me! We’re friends! I’d have been more than happy to!” she said, a little too enthusiastically.
I grimaced. “I... Look. I was afraid of this. Swift must have killed something or done something illegal. Queenie’s Essy contract says only a police officer or the next of kin is entitled to know what, so they can mount a legal defense. You’re not a cop anymore, or her partner. I’m still, for all intents and purposes, both... at least until Jade manages to get that paperwork signed and published. Telly will make that problematic. You’d have had to go find Swift’s parents.”
Taxi’s lips curled. “Princess-damned literal minded...” She trailed off before whatever foul curse she was about to spew could hit the airwaves.
“Queenie!” I raised my voice. “Get down here. I need information.”
The insect, still zipping back and forth around the window, settled to the floor in front of me. Its jaws were still waving crazily as the stimulant worked its way through the creature’s system.
“YesDetectivesweetums?”
“Never call me that again. I need to know what happened between the moment you saw me get shot and when Swift took off her ladybug. Everything.”
Queenie wiggled its forelegs, then raised one wing and one of the swarm zipped out, alighting on the tip of my nose.
“AreyoupreparedDetective?”
“Sunshine, sunshine, lady... bugger it. Just let me see.”
****
Most trips into the Essy collective feel like passing down a long, dark tunnel at high speed and, while not painful, aren’t for the weak of stomach. I’d never asked a ladybug for recall before. If you’ve ever put a tape in the player, then rewound it, that’s what it feels like. My whole conscious awareness running in reverse. Forming coherent thoughts in that condition is impossible. The lights of many ladybugs drifted around me, whizzing by in swirling swarms.
Space, if anything in that strange place could be called space, seemed to twisted like an image seen through flowing water. I fought to keep my thoughts in something resembling a solidified order, but it was a losing battle.
An instant before I felt certain I must give up and be scattered to the winds inside the ladybug network, I spiraled down into a single point, hanging in a starkly empty darkness.
Sensation came first. My face was wet. Wind was blowing at my body. My shoulders ached, though not in an unpleasant way. There was a persistent pressure in my bladder and what felt like lead weights in my stomach.
Is this Swift? I asked. There was no-one to answer.
Sound came next. There was screaming. My own screaming, high pitched and terrified. I broke off the shriek and my lungs aching as the air refused to enter them in anything but short, sharp gasps. I could feel hot stickiness on my face and hooves and the whistle of the high altitude, invisible fingers tugging at my wings.
Poor kid. Followed me into Cosmo’s office and hadn’t even mentioned she needed to hit the can, I thought.
Another voice was there, but distant and muffled by the winds.
Vision burst, stuttered, then solidified into images. A body laying on the floor, its eye socket burst open with the force of a high caliber sniper round. Another, more familiar personage, clutched feebly at a lacquered box as his dumb ass bled out from an enormous chest wound. His coat spread out around him, soaking up the gushing blood. He twitched once, held out his hoof towards the open window as though there was somepony there, then lay very, very still.
Taxi, her braid flapping behind her, was shouting something as she stood over my corpse, but I couldn’t make it out. The air blowing in from the broken window was too loud.
Altogether, it wasn’t an image I’d ever hoped to be able to play back for myself at any point my life, least of all now; my trauma plate was nice and full. I studied the scene as best I could from a mindset of detachment, noting the trajectory of the bullets and the spray of the glass. For a minute, I was just any of the hundreds of bodies I’d seen.
Swift’s vision swiveled towards the broken picture window and in the farthest distance, a black dot sitting on top of a tiny, drifting thunderhead. Taxi tried to move towards her, but she’d already braced her rear hooves and spread her wings. One second, she was inside and the next, blasting out over the Monte Cheval, her all powerful wingbeats propelling her straight at the black dot which quickly resolved itself into the general shape of a pony.
Leaping backwards, the sniper dropped off their cloud perch, spread their wings and blasted into the sky. They were still too far away to make out details, but Swift was closing quicker than the assassin was escaping. Giving a glance back, the sniper must have realized there was no escaping, banked, then shot straight upwards faster than I’d ever seen a pegasus climb.
If that piece of flying was impressive, it was nothing on the maneuver Swift pulled. Her flight feathers tilted downwards and she dropped her rear legs, using the additional drag to bring herself inside the sniper’s curve of ascension. Using her front knee, she kicked her trigger into her mouth and fired a shot.
The sniper juked as the clouds beside their face were split open by the passing bullet. Pulling up quickly, the black figure dipped sideways into an evasive roll. It’d been a miss, but it cut the ascent short before her target could get out of range. Closing now, I could just see the masculine shape of the killer’s shoulders, his tail a rich red-wine colored plume bundled tightly against his rear with the same stunt-flier braid that Swift wore. He appeared to be wearing some kind of dark, full-body armor that covered nearly every inch of pelt. A gigantic rifle strapped across his back should have been slowing him down, but he gave no sign of encumberance.
They flew on for a time, bobbing back and forth in an unpredictable pattern that would spoil all but a close shot. Every wing beat made the distance between them shorter, but the gun-pony seemed to know that. He was heading for a low cloud-bank drifting off of one of the weather factories. Swift put on a little more speed, trying to catch him before he could make the cover.
Swooping underneath, the sniper dove out of sight behind the strip of cloud. I expected her to follow, but my partner had something else in mind. She dove sideways, gathering velocity. The air between her wingtips was starting to shriek as she tilted back around, circling sideways and horizontally to the cloudbank her prey had disappeared into. Letting herself catch a thermal, she rose fast and popped over top of the cloud. Down below, the gunpony had his rifle out and lay prone with it pointed along the line she’d have taken if she followed him. He’d gotten into position faster than I’d have thought possible and it was a nasty ambush. He might have had three, possibly four shots before she could draw a proper bead.
Thankfully, Swift apparently knew this tactic well enough to take advantage of it. Dropping as silently as possible, she slowed and landed on the pliant surface of the cloud, behind the armored gunner. Up close, he was a thin stallion, his back and neck lined with ropes of the sort of speedy muscle pegasi are best known for. His face was covered by some kind of tinted gas-mask.
Swift trotted towards him, lining up Masamane’s iron sights on the back of his head. “P-p-pud y-your gud d-dowb! Y-you’re unber a-arresd!” she stammered, her teeth chattering around her bit.
My heart swelled with a bit of pride. The kid was terrified, but even as I lay dead in a nice big puddle of blood back in King Cosmo’s office, she was still trying to be a decent cop. I’m not sure if I could have managed that if our positions were reversed.
The sniper jumped as he realized he’d been made, swinging his rifle around in one smooth motion, using his wings to balance as he repositioned. He could have dropped through the clouds, if he’d been intent on escape, but nopony expects someone covered by a weapon to change targets that fast. It may not work in the movies, but in real life a properly reactive gunner can put you down, surprised or not. One second he was aiming off the end of the cloud, the next he was bringing his barrel down towards Swift’s forehead.
I prayed. Even though I knew the outcome, I still, in that breath between intention and action, prayed.
And he hesitated.
Maybe the Princesses heard my prayers. Maybe it was a stray gust. Maybe it was shock that he was being covered by a foal-sized cop.
Whatever it was, the huge gun’s mouth wavered in the air, stopping just above my partner’s frightened face.
There could be no missing at that range.
Masamane kicked, the report swept away by the racing winds.
I imagined, briefly, that I could see the passage of the shot as it moved in the time between life and death.
Unlike with the sniper’s rounds, there was no neat hole. Her bullet shattered the faceplate of the sniper’s gas-mask. The huge bullet entered his brain and shredded it on the way through. The back of his head burst wide open, throwing a rain of skull and lympha out over the city. He stood for another second or so while his body realized what his brain already knew, then the rifle fell, dropping through the cloud and rolling end over end until it disappeared into the streets..
Pegasus magic kept him from following the weapon as he crumpled to the cloud surface like a dropped doll with its strings cut. Swift darted toward him, whether to check if he was still alive or maybe make sure that first bullet had done the job, and stopped just short of his armored hooves.
She held there for a long time, her gaze drifting out over empty space. I realized she was as reluctant to examine a dead body as she had been the day I met her. Instead, she started searching for identifying markers, all the while, keeping her eyes off his face. There weren’t any. The armor was totally nondescript and very precisely generic. Similar stuff could be bought off the shelves of any decent military or police surplus. There were no patches. Somepony had even filed the serial numbers off the ends of his extra cartridges tucked into the suit’s belt.
The gas-mask was almost split down one side where the slug snapped the frame on the way through. A bit of purple fur was tangled in the edge of the mask, bunched up around the pony’s neck. Cocking her head, Swift tugged at it with her forehooves, fiddling with the strap around on the back. When it came free, she squeaked and fell onto her backside with the broken mask clutched in her legs.
Slowly, she peered over the top of the mask at the corpse’s face.
He was certainly a handsome looking thing, if one ignored the gaping wound. My partner’s shot hit him squarely in the eye, not unlike the one he’d put through Cosmo; a perfect kill. The sniper’s coat was the same color as expensive grapes, lavender fading to violet around the mouth.
The mouth. His muzzle hung, half open. Those teeth.
Inch long incisors jutted from his top and bottom gums all the way around, creating a frightening muzzle full of ripping daggers.
“S-sh...sh...sho...” Swift whispered, her lips forming a word I couldn’t quite pick up over the strong winds.
Something in the stream of sensory input felt like it’d been shifted slightly out of focus. I realized I’d lost audio completely, followed quickly by a full body numbness as sensation dropped out, too. Swift reached up and touched her mane, finding the ladybug standing at the edges of her fur to try to get a look at what was going on. Pulling it down, she stared at the tiny bug on her toe for a long time.
Then she swept it off.
The images twisted, flipping back on themselves in a very disorienting manner until I was hanging in mid-air in front of the pegasi’s young face. Tiny wings buzzed on my back. Dual jaws clicked against each other in my mouth. My vision seemed to be of a thousand images all being played back simultaneously in a broken mirror.
I was inside the ladybug and if being female was unusual, being an insect was fifty times so.
Turning, Swift let herself fall through the cloud and the last I saw of her was an orange streak charging towards the horizon.
****
I came out of the vision with a start and had to consciously force myself to breathe.
I watched myself die.
Sweet Celestia, there’s not enough beer, vodka, or gasoline in the world to purge that image from your brain once it’s there. I could try, though. I intended to try, but that was going to have to wait for Swift to be up and about.
My hooves were shaking. I stared at them, willing them to stop. I knew why they were shaking, but I didn’t have time to have a breakdown. My partner needed me.
The truth is that I don’t see death very often in my job. I see the dead all the time, sure, but nopony calls an equicide detective for a death that’s about to happen. Years full of corpses filed away in stacks of paperwork and buried under job-required appointments with the force psychologist, and one would think that death might no longer be quite so horrible. I wish that were true.
Sadly, it seemed no amount of determination or will was going to stop my legs from quivering.
Hoisting myself up, using the wall for balance, I lifted my head to find Taxi up on her hind legs behind the DJ station, a couple of glow-sticks woven into her mane, waving her hooves at a huge crowd dancing outside. My muscles felt stiffer than they should have if I’d only been sitting for the length of that memory; a glance at a digital clock on the wall said at least an hour had passed.
Queenie flew in circles beside my driver, bobbing along to something deep and primal played through the club’s speakers.
Reaching out, I touched my Taxi’s shoulder and she jerked, pulling Gyro’s headphones down around her neck. “Oh...you’re awake! I was wondering how long you were going to be down!”
“Yeah, I am wondering why I was.” I flicked my eyes at the gyrating ladybug. “Hey, Queenie? How come that took so long?”
The insect didn’t stop its dance to respond, but its secondary wings buzzed the answer. “Pony minds t-t-take Hiiigher bandwidth for memory replay! Pooony brains pop if, if, if, you dump too much information into them at o-o-once!”
“Well, then I’m glad you were patient about it. Is the coffee wearing off?” I asked.
Taxi nodded. “Yeah, Queenie hasn’t tried to eat any of the electrical cables for at least ten minutes.” Grabbing a fresh record, she set it on the turntable and dropped the needle onto it, then stepped out from behind the window. “Did you get what you were looking for?”
Snatching up one of the remaining sandwiches and using the pause as an excuse to order my thoughts, I took a quick bite before replying, “Swift chased down the sniper. He’s dead.”
“Hmmm...oh come on. Don’t leave me hangin’! What happened?”
I swallowed the chunk of flower and sighed, “He was a pegasus wearing combat armor. No markings. He was special operations of some kind, maybe. She caught him and he drew on her. She blew his head all over a thunder-cloud. I’m betting it rained blood somewhere near mid-town.”
“That’s... disgusting.”
“You’re telling me. You wanna know the real kicker?”
“Worse than the greenhorn killing somepony?!”
“Yeah.” I tapped my cheek with my toe. “His teeth. They were like hers. Whatever spell she’s under, he was the final product.”
Taxi’s upper lip twitched. A shudder started at her left rear ankle and worked its way up to her right ear. “Y-you think he... infected her with something magical? Like a disease?”
After some consideration, I shook my head. “Not likely. She was eating meat three days before that. Whatever is going on happened before we met.”
“Are we going to-”
“Investigate? Eventually, yes. Right now, I’m worried about getting her up and figuring out how to convince her I’m not a hallucination. Then I’ve got to call in my favours and go see The Archivist.”
A knock on the door of the DJ booth cut short any further discussion.
“Who is it?” I called out.
“Your beloved garcon!” came the reply. Scarlet, a basket of piping hot bagels dangling from his mouth, a carton of cream cheese balanced on his nose, and an extension cord around his neck, trotted into the tiny room. Setting his burdens down he plugged the cord into the wall, then offered me the end as he he peered over his shoulder at where Gyro Technic still leaning stiffly against the wall. The disk jockey was blinking ‘SOS’ furiously in Horse Code.
“Did I miss something?” Stella’s secretary asked.
“Oooh, only a violent recounting of unmentionable horror. Let’s have that.” I picked up the cord, unzipping my chest pouch and fishing through my pockets until I found the heart-shaped plug. Scarlet watched the process with interest.
“Sweets, could you?” I asked, feeling suddenly squeamish at the thought of pushing a piece of metal directly into my own breast bone.
“Ugh, fine...ya big baby.” Brushing aside my trench coat, she tilted the plug into the socket. There was a soft click and I cringed, uncertain what to expect, until a feeling of soft warmth spread throughout my chest.
“How does it feel?” Scarlet asked, very softly.
“It... hmmm.” I had to think about how to answer that. It wasn’t a bad sensation. Unusual. Certainly not something a pony is generally meant to feel, but then, I’d had mornings where I woke up with headaches I’d have sworn were sent straight from the pit. This was nothing like that. My eyeballs tingled in their sockets. “A bit like being a Hearth’s Warming Eve light. How long do I have to sit here?”
“The Don said you were probably going to have to charge for about fifteen minutes,” Taxi put in.
“I just spoke to Miss After Glow. She said that they’ve done as much as they can for Swift...” Scarlet added.
“How is she?” Taxi wanted to know.
“Not...um...” His expression was sad as he rubbed his toe tip at the carpet. “Not great. Her mouth...short of knocking all of her teeth out and giving her dentures, the doctors can’t do anything about that. She’ll be ready to wake up soon, though.”
“Alright, thanks Scarlet.” Plucking one of the bagels out of the basket, I popped it into my mouth. “Time enough fer lunsh.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.047 seconds
Total duration
619 users online
776,202 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Our VERY fine Sapphire Feather has actually nailed the identity of the shooter. She let me take down the comment so nobody gets spoiled for next chapter, but I wanted to let everyone know she did get it!
-Chessie
YAY, an update for this story! Yesterday I was eagerly awaiting it; then I totally forgot about it until I saw it in my updates list. Let's see what tropes I can get from here.... And by the way, I'm working (off and on, I get easily distracted) on a reread of this story, so I can catch stuff when I'm looking for tropes; I've done the first seven chapters thus far.
Hmm, does mentioning Sergeant Cobalt count as a Brick Joke when it was only two chapters ago?
This doesn't quite fit Turn In Your Badge, but it's close enough I'll have to find a way to mention it.
...Wait. Stella, is he Steve Magnet?
Dammit, there ought to be a trope about levitating someone up in the air and then spinning them around; I know I've seen it enough places. The closest I can find is Everything's Better With Spinning. A little help, fellow tropers?
The magical thingy inside Swift messing her up. It's that thing that makes her react weird to Essies, ain't it? Or maybe related to it.
Okay, I was NOT expecting that with her teeth. Not at all.
Oh. She's physically turning into a carnivore. That... certainly puts her eating habits in a new light, and makes me feel kind of bad about when they were hilarious. This will probably go under Harsher In Hindsight, maybe Cerberus Retcon if one of you tells me it was intended as such.
There should also be a trope about somebody wanting to get paid in really weird stuff, like the Ladybugs' soap operas, but either it doesn't exist or I'm searching the wrong things.
Ooh good, FINALLY I can find the trope for something I'm thinking of: Scary Teeth. Also, Pretty Little Headshots, averted; both for Cosmo and the sniper.
Also, at the time I post this -- I was writing it throughout my reading, so I don't know if it's changed since I first loaded the page -- I'm the first comment. Someone else has probably commented before me by now though, so meh.
2829047 Ooh, cool. Now I'm curious. My guess is that it was someone from PACT, that they've got some top-secret program going on, but I wouldn't bet on it.
2829142 Yahknow, you're one of like, four people to get the similarity between Steven Magnet and Stella. We did actually write Stella as Steven Magnet, maybe a few years older and a lot smarter. We needed a flaming transvestite and Steven Magnet was one of our favorite characters. He reminded me of an old queen I used to spend my Wednesdays bullshitting and drinking coffee with.
-Chessie
My bits are on Swift having known the ex-sniper (ex because he's really dead now), possibly he was the person she named in the bar. Whacky stuff on the teeth there, might explain why eating meat didn't bother her if she's been suffering from that for a while. Looking forward to more, as usual!
2829266 I didn't even get it until today, probably because a) I've been re-watching the first season lately, b) also reading Friendship is Dragons (screenshot comic), and c) was he ever described as purple before? My memory is generally shot on stuff I experience, which apparently also includes scene descriptions of well-written stories.
aww... i liked to know
I love assassins in full combat armor and gas masks
2829266
I didn't even think of that.
And yeah, its probaby some PACT dude. either way, can't wait for Swift to wake up!
2829581 Dun' worry! Two weeks and it'll be in your hooves!
-Chessie
You know when characters haven't been mentioned in so long that you forget what they look like, or when they were introduced in the story.
For me that's Queenie, Minox, Doctor Pickle, and Stella. And whatever the dragons name was.
Also; Hardy and Telly!
2830369 You've no idea how hard it is to keep all this shit straight. It's a LONG story. If you think it's hard here, I don't envy Somber. He's just crazy. Fallout Equestria Project Horizons is almost a million words in length. We're just a goofy serial.
-Chessie
2830269
encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTJHmhf9ZDzggPqQ_NunO7jt9gnsaMzaAE1z8gGEKM3hYVkGUVO2A
2829266 ugh, you keep waffling on the Steven/Stella connection! (That, or I have terrible memory)
Also, I was thinking, and Scarlet would be a great choice for the TF2 spy.
Also also, Horse Code is amusing.
Y'know, up until this point, I too had just discounted Swift's omni/carnivorism as just a freaky thing that some ponies do after hanging around Gryphons too much. Dietarily inadvisable and socially unwise, but otherwise harmless. The thought that she had some serious friggin' damage (beyond her otherwise obvious serious friggin' damage and the sort of mental instabilities that every soul in the city seems to have in one flavour or another) didn't even cross my mind.
I also never get tired of Taxi completely wrecking some guy in, give or take, a single move.
Unless Scoutaloo underwent some werebear gender reassignment, I'm now forced to re-read the entire fic to find another character with that kind of plumage.
2830997 I've found in writing this story that, as a mystery, all of the different parts do seem to come back around and sort of meet up at places. One insignificant fact can become the point on which a chapter or plot point hinges. In the original draft, Swift's meat eating WAS just a quirk.
-Chessie
Poor Swifty, my heart is aching now.
Whoever did that to her needs to be shot.
Poor poor Swifty, I think I know who she shot, any wonder she went off the rails and didn't return home, poor poor thing. I so want to hug her right now.
Oh, wow
Maybe it's just because my head's still filled with a whole other massive serial, but I can't even imagine figuring out who the assassin/Special-Horses type was. I am completely, utterly at a loss.
But I am loving all of this
It's particularly cool seeing you work out on action scenes! It reminds me of Film Crit Hulk's discussions of action scenes, where he talks about defining objectives and geography, having cause and effect, events happening in linked sequence. Even though I'm not clear on exactly what's going on with the teeth, it was such a cool moment after the neatly linked sequence of chasing and ambushing and counter-ambushing, to see the guy's teeth all pirahna-ed out, knowing that's happened to Swift now.
I'm always gonna be a hard case as far as being an 'expert Detrot reader', because I continually have way too much going on in my head and require steady orientation and feedback on what's happened. But you manage it! It's wonderful, what you're doing with all this. Moar!
The plot thickens. I am thinking Swift's backstory is incoming? I sure hope so. Good work on this one. Badge swinging on Chief's horn was pretty priceless. Loved Horse Code too
2831509 Action sequences destroy me. I mean, I love writing them. They're far and away the most fun thing TO write, but they're exhausting and when I'm done with one I just want to have a nap!
I'm still learning how to do a proper action sequence. I'm hoping, as things progress, I'll get better and better. The fight with Swift and the sniper was easier to write than Rolling In The Aisles.
2831548 Definitely, but not yet.
2831497 Don't worry. Swift is one of my favorite characters to write.
-Chessie
The assassin's was obviously that guy I can't remember that was introduced in so and so chapter
2831587 Oh, that reminds me, you've got two chapters left to make Swift cute again.
...This isn't a promising start... oh well.
2831587 Also, completely forgot to mention this cause it's right at the start. In The Scholar's peice, it is said that magicked on wings don't work for flying. What about Rarity and her butterfly wings? They were magicked on and they worked perfectly.
2831934
Yeah, but they weren't permanent for one (they explicitly stated that they last for three days), and also disintegrated Icarus style. They were also damaging to Rarity's personality. (My head canon)
2831456 So, does this count as a Cerberus Retcon or not?
2831934
Based on context, I think the Scholar's only talking about magicked-on pegasus wings. I'd imagine that Rarity's butterfly wings weren't really part of her anatomy, they were just 'glued' onto her back.
2831934 Those were a temporary alteration, mostly powered by unicorn magic, and not very good. They dissolved in mid-flight and almost killed her.
2832183 Oddly, the second draft was a slightly darker piece than the original. We planned that out for a long time before we got here and tied it all together. It just took time. All the pieces were there.
-Chessie
That return to the castle damn that was funny.
Poor swift as if she wasn't screwed up enough already, I suppose it does explain her carnivorous appetites.
Maybe she'll turn into a bearpony, a flying one. o.o Bearcavalry eat your heart out. Then to top off all the weird, seeing yourself die that's probably gonna leave a mark.
After reading about Scarlet getting those bagels I realise i'm starving.
Out of curiosity, what kind of music does Hardy like?
2832992 Hardy likes a mix of swing, jazz, and blues. He'd love Dave Brubeck and Parov Stellar.
-Chessie
2831669 "gets off phone" I've spoken to the council Meerkat. they decided to extend the deadline for one more chapter due to the fact the flashback showing Swift being badass. however they said you're to remain at your post monitoring your target. good news though they also reported they got some new scientists to "volunteer" for the "project". if you discover the frequency we're looking for from monitoring your target before the deadline expires report back to your commanding officer. i prefer getting it that way then having to result to "drastic measures". "mumbling to self" if Hardy doesn't get the bastards who did this to Swift, the Swift Consortium will.
2834365 Gimme one more chapter! I swear, I can do it!
-Chessie
2835047 you misunderstand. you originally had 3 chapters and this one impressed the council enough by showing Swift as a badass in the flashback that they are giving you an extra chapter extension. so you still have 3 chapters before the Consortium has to take certain actions.
2834365 *checks rifle is still loaded. Salutes* Yes sir. ou can count on me sir.
Three more chapters, got it.
2835351 Whew, thank goodness! I think I can make that work. Heee!
I'm really glad the character has attracted so much love. She was supposed to be just cute, but she's also weird and fun to write.
-Chessie
Swift's appreciation for meat was introduced early in the story. I thought it was just a cute quirk at first, but if it's going to be used to expand on her backstory... father as shooter?
2835959 That would be very 'Star Wars'...I like it! Wish I'd thought of it.
-Chessie
If only the comments allowed a spoiler thing I would be able to gush on who I thought was the shooter, because I'm about 90% sure I know the name.
Oh and I've scrounged up some burlap sacks and zip ties in case things don't turn up for Officer Cuddles. The lemons and iguanas are going to be a bit harder to come by though.
2840787 Heehee...don't worry. Hard at work, as we speak!
-Chessie
2835460 "checks rifle" looks well cleaned. wait. "checks rest of Meerkat's setup" you only have live ammo here. and where's your scanner? you can't find the frequency without it. I'm going to have a word with requisitions about this. "looks at portfolio on table" Grrr. And they gave you an incomplete assignment dossier. "hands Meerkat a new one" You are to monitor your target and their brainwaves (thus the scanner) and keep your target safe from harm discretely (live ammo is allowed for this) If the deadline passes and the conditions haven't been met, you are to subdue your target with either tranq ammo, ether, or whatever nonlethal way you can come up with (your choice). you must keep at a distance from your target though. Your predecessor had to be let go for going into Ch... I mean your target's room and getting a hair sample. We really need to do a psych evaluation of some of our members.
2840787 easy there. The Swift Consortium has everything planned out if they don't make the deadline. We would rather not have to tie up another loose end. You're welcome to put in an application with us though. You definitely have the passion we're looking for. though I'm not sure on the council's thoughts on use of live animals in these situations
2849893 oooo, scanner, nice. *reloads rifle with tranq ammo* Non-lethal attack in three chapters if conditions aren't met, got it sir.
Wahts hapening to swift!? Ohh also awesome chapter I hope swift didnt kill who I think she did any way fix swift now please
2857689 You'll see soon! Next chapter!
2850937 Jeeeez...next chapter, guys. Read next chapter! It's comin' soon!
-Chessie
2858345 Oh I'm patient *looks at rifle* wouldn't be much of a sniper if I wasn't.
Me and The Swift Consortium are looking forward to the next chapter, should be good. Keep up the good work, sorry if I sounded discouraging, I just really like Swift. 
Also I was thinking more about the magicked on pegasus wings thing. If a unicorn did it to themselves (effectively making them appear as an alicorn), couldn't the use the flight magic part of the temporary wings spell to fly. I know they'd have to keep reapplying it every now and again, but it would work wouldn't it? If that doesn't walk maybe the cloudwalking spell would give them enough pegasus attributes for the wings to work?
2858574 Well, iffen you wanna write a proper Starlight Over Detrot side-fic, I would love to hear that explored. I've actually got some fiddling with that MUCH later on (in the story) that may work through some of those questions. Or not. I'm not sure. It's tough writing in a world with magic because establishing a functional rules-set is REALLY freakin' hard.
-Chessie
2858616 I reckon it would be, like that whole magical contamination thing, that must have been hard to figure out. I mean in terms of wht magical contamination can and can't do, that kind of thing. If it helps, I'm pretty good spotting continuity problems in stories, in terms of world physics and the like, you know spotting contradictions. So far in this story you've done a fantastic job as best I can tell. Your statement about magicked on pegasus wings not functioning would remain true even if you could apply temporary flight magic to them (and I don't see why not), cause technically a unicorn levitating any object is doing the same thing really.
2858345Sweet!!
Oh Mer!
I'm glade I got a chance today to catch up. I think I know who the sniper was now, If I'm right the plot thickens...er so to speak.
So Ms. Cuddles is a vicious predator now... Meh she still pretty adorable. 
If it helps I know a good burger join in the griffon tribe lands. 
On a side Note Hardy was VERY suave with Telly 
Well played sir, well played.
2849893
It's a scare tactic, you start listing off some mildly uncomfortable things and your brain puts together the worst case scenario.
I hope it doesn't have to come to that though
2883001 "sits down at desk" ok finally i'll get to the paperwork that piled up while I was away in Nashville (went to Sweet Apple Acres Con or rather the events the Nashville Bronies planned when the Con fell through due to the Holiday Inn cancelling on them at the last minute. not lying, they cancelled the day before the Con. it was a lot of fun regardless.
) 
Let's see Meerkat's report. "scream heard in the background" I'll get to you in moment Agent Simmons. everything seems to be going fine according to this report . Wait, what's this other paper? it's dated... THREE WEEKS AGO!?! and it's just now getting to my desk! "another scream" I SAID I'LL GET TO YOU IN A MOMENT! looks like NaiKujibo already has applied with us and been accepted. hmm, oh Swift Brigade, right that was one of the names the council was going to go with before they decided on Consortium. but why wouldn't he have know that we went with a different name. "sighs" another department i'll have to have a "word" with.
"looks and sees NaiKujibo comment" Ah i see, psychological warfare interesting. you definitely are going to do great here. "hands him a portfolio" i'm going to assign you with Meerkat. he's doing a great job but could benefit from someone of your caliber. same assgnment. watch and protect target. look for wavelength. it's explained in the file. and in three chapters if we have no progress on the Swift front supress the target and bring in for "special treatment".i might even let you help with that. anyways that's all. dismissed.
Now then paperwork can wait. Time for some "fun". "walks off but still in earshot" now then Agent Simmons about you going into the target's home without authorization. "Loud scream" you're lucky Ch... "slaps self" I mean the target didn't notice or else you would have made Meerkat and now NaiKujibbo's job much harder. "Loud scream' oh come now i've barely gotten started.
(ok i'm think i'm starting to have way too much fun with this joke. mmmmh nah
)
2883310
Yeah, I got the message saying I had been accepted, but no orders or info came down the pipes, so I just assumed that things had gone Guerrilla. I'll have to take some time to look at the file, but I'm looking forward to working with the Consortium and this Meerkat fellow.
As always looking forward to the next chapter.