Act 2, Chapter 39: Bringing Up the Rear
Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 39: Bringing Up the Rear
Lots of creatures in Equestria are intelligent, but not nearly so many are truly civilized.
One might at this juncture inquire where the distinction lies. Let us consult royalty here:
“The distance between civilization and savagery is cake.”
-Princess Celestia (apocryphal)
It may sound absurd at first, but if the reader will bear out the line of reasoning, he or she will see beneath the frosting to a fundamental underpinning of Equestrian society.
To construct a proper cake, or indeed most any kind of frosted pastry, a civilization must be capable of milling flour, collecting eggs, harvesting and refining sugar, acquiring and storing milk, churning butter, and writing down recipes. A cake-producing civilization must also have the infrastructure necessary to bring these ingredients into one place, and an oven in which to combine and bake them. To do all this requires a certain level of agricultural capacity, livestock management skills, technological advancement, education, skilled labor, and social cohesion that hunter-gatherers and wandering monster packs lack, no matter how smart or articulate the individuals may be.
Because of this philosophy, as well as Princess Celestia's fondness for the stuff, Equestria holds cake in high esteem. The baker’s profession is a nobly regarded one, with lots of major national competitions held at which royalty is often present; For to consume a cake, a pie, a donut, or a muffin is not merely an absorption of mixed carbohydrates and fats, but to intake into oneself the distilled essence of Equestrian civilization.
Equestrian baking is so integral that it has even made its way into armed conflict. Cake is not an entirely uncommon form of improvised home defense. The settlers of Appleloosa in L.R. 1 chose apple pie as a border protection weapon not merely because of a shortage of martial supplies, but as a symbol of their town in projectile form. Further back, in the period immediately following Luna’s banishment when Equestria’s enemies sought to take advantage of the chaos, Celestia herself led the fabled 101st Light Confectioners Brigade, whose claims to fame lie in what was termed their “Blitzkuchen” style of hit-and-run cake assault, and, of course, the monarch’s historic battlecry: “Let them eat cake!”
Why, to live in a society unable to bake a cake is to wallow with the beasts and monsters in the filth and muck.
-The Scholar
I hit the water a second before Cerise and had loads of time to question whether or not I’d just done something really stupid. Her unconscious body, bound tightly to the litter, splashed in beside me and I snatched at her with both forelegs, managing to wrap them around her torso. My head broke the surface, and I gasped for air.
Big mistake.
If I’d thought the stink was bad upstairs, inside the tunnel itself I was wishing I’d gone ahead and let somepony shoot me in the nose. If I could have let go of Cerise for a half second, I’d have been inclined to do it myself.
There was no light and nothing much to see if there had been. The powerful flow of water swept us away down the tunnel and I had to kick myself away from a wall that got too close, but after that the girl and I settled towards what I thought was the middle of the pipe.
Another splash echoed behind me, followed by a vaguely masculine shout of surprise, then a third splash less than second later.
Everypony has had a dream of drowning when they get tangled in the sheets. Not everypony has had a dream of drowning in raw sewage. If I’d been a pegasus, I could have wrapped my wings around Cerise. If I were a unicorn, I might have levitated her above me. As it was, keeping a tight grasp on the girl meant using my teeth when I had to tread water to keep us above the flow. That meant more than a few mouthfuls of what I'll describe only as the very worst thing a pony can possibly taste. I hoped, sincerely, that Gale would handle any infections with the same aggressive panache he’d used against my shrapnel wounds.
I kicked my rear legs, trying to stabilize against the swift moving flow, but ponies are not built for swimming. I almost overbalanced, then crashed against one wall and spun in circles. All the while, I clutched at my precious cargo, keeping her head up and protecting the facemask.
It seemed like an age down there, flying into darkness on a torrent of disgusting fluid, but it ended as quickly as it had began.
I shot out of the other end of the tunnel at speed, then had the air knocked out of me as I hit the water and went down. Releasing Cerise, I swam for the surface, praying the nylon strap had survived the tunnel. My eyes burned, even closed, and every part of me felt like it was immersed in some kind of sickening oil. It crept into every crevice and if there had been anything worth mentioning left in my stomach, I’d have contributed to the mess.
At last, with the air in my lungs starting to catch fire, I split the surface and breathed my first breath of free air.
It was still a pretty wretched breath, but I could see stars overhead. There were times, down there in Supermax, where I’d thought never to see them again. The sun was just coming up over the horizon and I had to take a second to marvel at the beauty of it.
Then I remembered Cerise and began hauling myself in what I thought was probably the direction of the shore. It was a short swim before I felt smooth concrete come up to meet my hooves and I began dragging myself laboriously out of the water. My trenchcoat shrugged off the water and some of the filth as the hydrophobic enchantments did their work, but my fur was probably never going to be the same again.
Over to one side, I saw a bedraggled, bright orange shape crawling up the embankment, coughing and retching the whole way. Swift flopped onto her back, panting heavily as I heaved Cerise up on the shoreline. After a few seconds catching her breath, she began furiously yanking at her combat vest, tearing the zipper down and squirming out of both it and her gun harness before sprawling again with her wings outspread in the growing dawn sunlight. She looked up at me, then shook her head and closed her eyes.
I checked Cerise, pulling the air-mask off and finding her breathing normally, then glanced up just in time to see Limerence spat out of the sewage tunnel, pinwheeling into a belly flop as my driver blasted out behind him, nearly landing on his head. The librarian floundered in the rotten waste water until Taxi grabbed a mouthful of his mane and began dragging him towards the shore. Since she could only swim with three legs, it took a fair bit longer than Cerise and I had. A guilty part of me thought I ought to go help her, but my muscles refused to follow orders.
I onto my back, staring up at the beautiful sunrise, feeling as though I were seeing it for the first time. My back ached where I’d hit the wall of the tunnel and a hundred other little twinges and twitches were finally making themselves known.
Taxi yanked our drenched librarian out of the water, tossing him down on the concrete where he proceeded to try to catch the sun for a few seconds before just laying there, watching clouds. His pupils were massive, but he seemed none the worse for wear despite the dunk in the toilet bowl. My driver stumbled over to my side and slumped down with her head on my stomach. She smelled awful, but no worse than I did, and it was all sort of merging into one huge, reeking miasma.
The lagoon we’d splash-landed in was about a quarter mile square on each side and dead calm, but I could still see the slight waver in the air of the heated fumes coming off of it. I wanted nothing more than to lay there for about twelve hours, but we needed to move. Time was still not on our side.
I patted my driver’s head and tried to move. “Come on, Sweets. We can rest once we’re back at the Nest.”
“Could you stop moving?” she groaned, poking me in the side. “You smell less when you don’t move.”
“Yeah, I’m aware, but I want a shower before this stuff hardens.”
“Poor choice of words, Hardy,” she muttered, stretching her damaged leg out slightly. Bits of things best not mentioned clung to the bandage and the fur around it. “I’m... dammit. I’m going to need antibiotics…”
I pulled myself over, dislodging my driver as gently as I could. “We’d better hope that’s all we need. I don’t fancy getting parasites and the faster we can get decontaminated, the faster we can stop worrying.”
Taxi laid there for another moment, her stained yellow fur glowing in the fresh sun of the new day. She scratched at a spot on her neck, then gathered her resolve and heaved herself onto her stomach.
“Sir?” Swift asked, almost tripping over her own front hooves as she shuffled over to my side. Her wet wings were shadows of themselves and even a quick dash through some clouds wasn’t going to get the ingrained grime out. “Permission to shoot Limerence?”
I shook my head. “Denied. We need him alive and relatively uninjured.”
“Then… can we never ever do anything with sewers ever again as long as we live… ever?”
“I’ll second that, kid. Now...come on. Grab Limerence’s leash and...huh.” I moved up the edge of the embankment until I could peer over the top at the long, isolated stretch of road which ran alongside. “Which way is the car?”
****
I trudged along in silence, Cerise’s litter pulling at my neck. The sun was up and my coat was drying out. Truth be, in spite of the filth, the warmth felt amazing. Still, I was hungry as a dog and emotionally too worn out to really appreciate the beauty of the morning. The road stretched ahead of us and I could see a tiny speck of yellow just coming into view around the curve of empty tarmac; the Night Trotter, waiting where we’d left her like a faithful old pet.
Not one car had gone by in the last hour we’d been walking, although that wasn’t surprising. There’s was nothing on the trunk road for anypony to visit besides Supermax, and the highway ran parallel to it about three miles east.
Limerence was trying to hold a discussion about amniomorphic magic, which might have gone better were his debate opponent not a wad of clover by the side of the road. His rebuttal was cut short when Swift pulled his leash, keeping him moving in more or less the right direction. He’d come down a little in the forty five minutes since we climbed out of the pool of water and started back to the car.
At my side, Taxi limped along at more or less the same speed I was managing with the unconscious unicorn. There was nothing any of us could say to what we’d just survived. Or, possibly, there was too much that needed saying. We were all worn out and any deep analysis would have to wait for a shower and some rest.
****
Taxi tossed the sheet across the back seats and I caught the other end in my teeth, spreading it out as best I could. Despite our condition, she’d gone straight for the seat covers in the trunk and I didn’t have the strength remaining to fight her on the topic.
Swift climbed into the Night Trotter first, then climbed out and forced Limerence in before jamming him up against the wall so he couldn’t go back to chasing crickets. Lim only looked a little disappointed before discovering that his hooves were apparently the most fascinating objects in the universe for the fifth or sixth time.
I eased in after my partner and shut the door as Taxi got behind the wheel and turned the ignition, then flicked on the radio.
With an easy u-turn back towards the row of sunlight sky-scrapers, we were on our way home.
****
“Ladies and Gentlecolts, what a wild few days it’s been! We’re in the lead-up to the Summer Sun Celebration and the city is getting gussied up like the finest whore in the Skids. Never mind the tracks on her legs or the thick mascara, my dear listeners. This is time to celebrate!
This is Gypsy comin’ atcha from parts unknown and I’ve got the news!
Now, as we all know, Mister Hard Boiled, the rootin’ tootin’ Detective who drove out the scum running the Monte Cheval is at it again! This time, he’s towing it with Chief Iris Jade herself, after spending a few weeks on her most wanted list. The good Detective showed up at the door of the Castle a couple of days ago, sword ablazing, and called her out after his partner was arrested for crimes unknown.
Most miraculous of all, maybe, the two of them managed to vanish right under Iris Jade’s nose! The Chief’s state of mind was described as ‘explosive’.
Now, where the Detective might be now is a question worth some speculation, but a source of mine in the police department - who still owes me fifty bucks for that stupid bluff on a pair of twos - has sung a little song that seems to indicate there’s more to this story than meets the eye. Said source suggested there’s a chance the Chief might even have let Hard Boiled go.
Why she would do such a thing? Who knows.
In other, slightly less amusing news, there have been a number of missing ponies reports filed this morning for some of the most prominent members of the Detrot elite. While most appear to have only been gone a few hours, these are not the sort of ponies who are ‘late’ anywhere. Amongst them, the Chairpony for Radio and Airwave Regulation! Lemme tell you, ladies and gentlecolts, I am not sad to see Mister Apple Crisp take a vacation.
Funnily enough, nopony seems to know exactly where to start looking. You can head to your nearest police station or flick on the boob-tube if you’re curious about the list of those who’ve gone missing. I’ll be bringing you more as that story develops.
Griffins, griffins, everywhere and not a pot to piss in. We’ve got more from the griffin aviary occupying downtown and the news is not good.
Now, it has been well known for the last month that the griffins are having troubles at home. Half the bars in town with broken front windows have played host to some griffin warbands looking for some rest and relaxation. Exactly what was going on has been unclear, since griffins are notoriously cagey.
It’s come out that a merry band of marauding dragons have taken up residence in the low mesas of the Tokan tribelands. The Hitlan, who share a border, have also been driven out.
As if that weren’t bad enough, they’re now having issues with our own local monster hunters.
My little ponies, we all know, phoenix eggs are expensive, nasty business. On a good day, you get an immortal pet. On a bad day, you get a raging, fiery explosion. It seems that somepony within the P.A.C.T. has gotten it into their heads that the griffins are smuggling phoenix eggs amongst their own and are demanding to be let into the griffin embassy set up at the Moonwalk Hotel to take a look around. To date, the griffins have rebuffed their requests, but if city safety is threatened we could be facing a major diplomatic incident. Let’s hope Mister Steroids, Colonel Broadside doesn’t decide ‘ambassadorial immunity’ is as quaint as he seems to have decided ‘restraint’ is.
We’ll keep an ear to the ground! As always, this is Gypsy, your queen of the Signal.
****
“I really wish I knew who that pony is,” I grumbled, peeling my trenchcoat off my back and checking to make sure the pockets had remained sealed. “She’s damnably well informed.”
“Oh, Sir, I think it’s neat!” Swift replied. “I mean, how many ponies get to be on the radio?”
“One more than wants to,” I bit back, rolling the car’s window down to let the worst of the smell out.
“Yeah, but ponies need to know there’s somepony out there fighting for them, right?”
“Kid, most ponies need a baseball bat to the noggin before they even consider the possibility that their personal problems are just symptoms of bigger issues.”
“Still, I mean...isn’t it better that someone is at least telling them?”
“If it makes our job more difficult? No.”
“Well, that’s all just stuff everypony could find out, right?”
I let my muzzle slip into a frown. “It can’t have been more than a few hours since anypony started looking for our friends back at Supermax...”
A cold tickle started at the base of my spine.
Swift’s eyebrows rose a few inches, then her eyes popped as the same notion dawned on her.
“Sir, how could anypony have known a bunch of ponies had gone missing unless they had like… total access to the Detrot Police Department’s entire communication system and could assemble a bunch of missing pony reports as they came in?”
I saw where she was going and shook my head. “Kid, whoever did this, I sincerely doubt it’s Telly. She’s got the access, but she’s a cop to the core. She may not like what Iris Jade does sometimes, but I don’t think she’s secretly an anarchistic radio DJ.”
“That would be a really hard trick to pull off,” Taxi added from the front seat. “I mean, I’ve been listening to Gypsy and talking to Telly at the same time on the cab’s radio. I know she can do that trick of splitting her voice, but even she isn’t that good.”
I lowered my head onto my chest and sighed. “It’s a thing for another time. If Telly is moonlighting, it might be useful to know, but I don’t know what good it would do us. Besides, she’d be smarter than to report information the department hasn’t released to the public.”
“Flerbies…” Limerence chimed in, pushing his forehead under my leg. Cerise slept on in the front seat, oblivious to the trials of the last few hours.
****
The highway loomed ahead as I finally started to come out of the hazy fog that’d settled over my thoughts long enough to start thinking about our next move.
“As I see it, we’ve got three stops; the Nest, the Vivarium, and Precious’s place. We need medical treatment and we need to get whatever is in Ruby’s box, but I want a shower first and some food more than I have wanted anything in my entire life.”
“Limerence is going to want to head to the Archive as soon as he’s sane enough to-”
“Ahhh, damn…” I slapped my hoof against my forehead. “I knew we forgot something.”
“The Moon Guns? I’ve got most of them in my saddlebags,” Taxi replied, gesturing to her bags on the center console as we headed into the city. “I grabbed them as we were leaving, while you were building the litter for Cerise.”
“Most of them?” I asked, worriedly.
Swift unzipped her combat vest’s side-pouches, revealing two of the sleek, black weapons nestled inside. “I have the last couple. We’re gonna leave these with Auntie Stella, right, Sir?”
“That’s the idea. A sea-serpent’s hoard strikes me as an entirely adequate place to make sure nopony ever sees them again. Limerence isn’t in any condition to protest,” I said, gesturing at our librarian who was again engrossed in trying to lick his way through the car window.
“So...what do we do with Cerise?” Swift asked.
“We’re dropping her with Precious then calling the Chief and letting her know where her daughter is. That’ll be after we get her some medical treatment.”
“Limerence said she’s not going to wake up anytime soon,” Taxi added. “If her leylines are burnt out, so long as none of them are damaged, she should be okay in a few days or weeks.”
“Then I’m putting delivery a little bit lower on our list of priorities. First and foremost...get us back to the Skids, Sweets.”
****
Home.
Good heavens, when did I start thinking of a bunker in the middle of the poorest slum in the city as ‘home’?
I don’t know. It was a pit, but it was my pit and every time I was there I was safe. That’s what home is, whether it’s your mother’s skirts to hide behind or a hotel room. It’s where none of the awful things out there can get you.
So it was then consistent with recent events that the second we turned onto the pockmarked road near Nest, I caught sight of a slobbering demon crashing towards us at top speed with three foals atop his heads and a dozen others around chasing his legs. Up above, heads peeked out of windows or down from rooftops, watching the children at their games with varying degrees of amusement.
Taxi pulled to a stop and I threw myself out of the car, waving towards the rooftops.
“What in Equestria!? I thought I told you lot to keep that thing out of sight!” I snarled at the Aroyo guards. A couple of pegasi up there were just smiling down at the spectacle. One nodded in my direction, then vanished behind the edge of the roof.
Goofball plowed to a stop in front of the Night Trotter, panting heavily as one of the children clambered down from his back and rushed up to us.
She was cute as a button, the color of over-ripe cheddar cheese, and far too much pink mane for one pony. It hung around her ankles and she stumbled over it as she ran. Her tiny horn poked up from her bangs, glowing brightly as she galloped towards me.
“Oooh! Mista Hard Bold! Mista Hard Bold!” she shouted. “We be takin’ best care of Goof!”
“Boiled. My name is Boiled, kid...” I sighed, wiping at my crusty mane.
The filly’s headlong charge slowed as she got close, then came to a stop about a meter away. She sniffed at the air, then threw one leg over her muzzle. “Ewww! Ye be smell like the time I and I hide broccoli behind de furnace!”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that, too. What’s the deal? I thought I said the Aroyos should keep ‘Goof’ hidden.”
“He be hidden!” she giggled, pointing to her glowing horn. “I got me cutiemark cause I… cause I done a thing! Me wanted to play wif him, but could only play if nopony be watching! So… nopony is!”
She turned and showed off a mark on her hip that looked like an ornate mirror with a cat’s eye looking out of it.
Wisteria trotted out of an alleyway nearby, her gravid belly giving her a wide-legged waddle as she brushed her purple mane back from her eyes with one hoof. She looked gorgeous, despite - or maybe because of - the lateness of her pregnancy. Her eyes were bright with life.
“Shade Walk! Shoo wi’ ye!” she ordered, waving her hoof at the filly. “Ye be takin’ de beasty for he walk today! Get on wid it.”
Shade Walk scampered back towards Goofball, who was playing a very gentle tug of war with a bit of rope and one of the foals who might have been a tenth his size. His other two heads were busy getting petted by his coterie of adoring fans. Once she was back in place between his ears, the giant dog charged off down the road.
“Wisteria, why is the ‘beasty’ outside of the Nest?” I asked.
“He be safe enough, Crusada. Dat girl’s talent be to hide t’ings in plain sight. Dem what do not seek, do not see.”
“You mean whatever she was casting just lets him wander around?” Swift sputtered, climbing out of the car.
“Aye. If nopony seeks him, nopony sees him.” She brushed at the air in front of her face with one leg. “Now, why come ye smellin’ of...phew...all manner o’ foul?”
“We had an inconvenient escape route. I could use some patching up and Taxi’s got a bullet in her. Do you have any ponies with medical training who could meet us down in the Nest?” I asked.
“I and I be afraid de bonesaw be treatin’ our wounded,” she replied, looking slightly sad. “De Jewla’ had a stomp last eve and de Aroyos be caught in de crossfire wid de Costovo Cyclones. We lose none, but...dey be some injuries. It be some hours before de bonesaw be free.”
“That’s fine. We’ve got some options there. Could you meet us down there in about twenty minutes? Bring Jambalaya. I’ve got a...heh...a ‘gift’ for the Aroyos.”
Something in the way I said that must have set off her sense of self preservation, because her wings flew open.
“A... a gift Crusada? Nopony gives de Aroyos ‘gifts’...”
“It’s a heck of a gift, but you might not thank me for it,” I answered, pulling Cerise from the back seat of the Night Trotter. I laid her out on the ground and began lashing her litter around my neck again.
Wisteria cocked an eyebrow at me, then nodded at the unconscious filly. “And who be dis one?”
“She was our target at Supermax. Trust me, I’ll tell you the whole story in a bit. After a shower.”
Limerence chose that moment to stumble out of the back seat, rolling onto a heap of garbage on the sidewalk. His vest was a mess and his golden watch dangled by its chain around his forelegs. Taxi quickly snatched it up and stuffed it back into his pocket.
“Legumes! I love singing… singing fabaceae… beans!” he moaned, turning in little circles, chasing after the end of his leash.
I hauled Cerise up behind me as the Aroyo majordomo stared at our intoxicated Archivist.
“Incidentally, do you have anything for a Beam overdose?” I added as an afterthought.
A tiny smile cropped up on Wisteria’s face. “Dat we may, Crusada. By de way, de Ancestors… dey say ye soon to be speakin’ wid dem.”
“Well, they’re going to have to wait a little while,” I replied, starting off down the street. “I’ve got a laundry list of things to be done or the wrath of heaven will descend on my head.”
Goofball rose and started following me, sniffing curiously at Cerise before deciding he didn’t much care for the scent coming off of any of us. His right head gave Swift a mournful look.
“Sorry, boy,” she laughed. “I promise, we’ll all get a shower soon.”
He woofed appreciatively, then dashed off to join his young fan club.
****
Scalding hot water ran down my back and layer upon layer of grime went with it. It was many shades of brown as it circled the drain in the middle of the bunker’s shower room.
Blood was in there. Probably some bits of some dead ponies. Definitely some leavings from some living ponies. All in all, a foul stew for having come off of somepony’s pelt.
I stared at the swirling water, fighting down a bad case of the shakes. It was the third or fourth episode in the half hour since I’d started bathing. Damnable things. I’d been waiting since Supermax for the anxiety attack to start, but it had been pretty peaceable until the water hit me.
There were an awful lot of bodies to lay at my hooves. More than I’d ever had there before. No case, even when I’d had to kill, and even when I’d had to watch ponies die, had left me with so many fresh ghosts. Cosmo. Skylark. Those dead fools at the temple. Ruby too, even if one fresh ghost was the baseline for an equicide.
Skylark’s victims might have some peace, if we could find some way of emptying out those phylacteries. I considered it a measure of just how crap things were that I couldn’t make that a higher priority. Of course, I had my own little passenger sitting pretty in my chest.
Would Gale want to be let out, one day, to go wherever it is souls go when some sick pony isn’t capturing them and burning them as a fuel source?
My guts felt like they were made of lead. I tried to push the darker thoughts out, but they do have a way of sneaking back in.
After another five minutes of just standing there, heart pounding, trying to still my stomach, I finally reached for the soap and began scrubbing. I scrubbed, and scrubbed, trying to find a clean inch. The problem with blood on grey fur is it tends to just give a pony brown highlights. I scrubbed my ears right down to my tail and then started again from the top, working the soap in deep.
It took three more passes before the water ran clear, and I still didn’t feel like I could wash the foulness away.
All those ponies dead.
I could only wallow in my guilt so long before somepony came to check up on me, but when I heard pounding hooves charging down the hall, I started looking for my gun. Shouts followed the panicked, uneven hoofsteps and another set was just behind the first.
Limerence pounded around the corner, his eyes crazed and his blonde mane flying as he dove straight for me. I threw myself sideways, rolling across the shower into a defensive crouch as our librarian charged the spot I’d just been. He skidded to a halt and threw his head back, mouth open, groaning in agony as he tried to fill his muzzle with water from the shower spout.
“Agagggleagggle!” he sputtered, although that might not have been an attempt at an actual sentence.
On his heels, my driver swung around the door frame and stopped, taking in myself standing in the corner and Lim swallowing muzzleful after muzzleful of shower water. Our librarian didn’t seem to care that he was getting drenched, although considering the smell off of him that might not have been surprising.
“What’d Wisteria give him?” I asked, glancing at Taxi.
“Dunno. Something ‘from de Ancestors’,” she replied. “It looked like green sludge and smelled like wasabi on steroids. I was half worried he was coming down here to drown himself.”
Wisteria poked her head around the corner. “Be he ‘out’ yet?”
A soft thump behind me brought my head around. Limerence was laying on his side in the water, his tongue lolling from one side of his mouth. His eyes were shut.
“Lim!” I rushed to his side and began feeling for a pulse.
“Be ye quieted, Crusada,” Wisteria murmured, buffing one hoof on her heavy stomach. “Dat be just de initial reaction. He wake up in t’ree hours feelin’ fresh as daisy. Well… mebbe daisy what been in de trash compacta’.”
****
I wandered out into the living room a good fifteen minutes later with a towel draped across my back. The shakes were gone, although the anxiety remained, quietly simmering in the background.
Limerence was heaped across some bean bags, snoring softly.
Beside him, her mane still wet from the bath Swift and Taxi had managed to get her into, Cerise was tucked in amongst a heap of blankets. Her eyes moved underneath their lids; she was dreaming. It was a distinct improvement over the comatose unconsciousness she’d been under when we went into the waste pipe.
Swift, also damp and minus her combat vest, lay beside her, her wings spread out to dry. Her eyes were shut, but she didn’t seem to be asleep. A twitching ladybug perched on the tip of her nose.
“She’s been talking to Tourniquet for the last half hour,” said a voice behind me.
I turned and found my driver behind me, wringing water from her mane with a fluffy hotel towel I recognized.
“Did you steal that while we were at the High Step last month?” I asked.
She shrugged and rubbed her cheek against it. “It’s not like they were going to need them for terribly long, now was it? Anyway, Swift is talking to Tourniquet. She came out of it long enough to tell me that the prison is going to need some medical supplies, food, and somepony to distribute it at some point soon. Tourniquet has corralled some of the cult into performing first aid on the injured from the temple, but ‘encouraging’ them to behave is a drain on her energy reserves.”
“Not to worry. I think we can handle that situation fairly comprehensively, at least, when Wisteria gets here. Speaking of that...where is she?”
“Talking to the Ancestors, whatever that happens to mean,” Taxi flipped her loose mane back over one shoulder. “She’ll be back. Meanwhile, when are we headed to Stella’s place?”
“Soon. I need to make some arrangements for Supermax first.”
“Arrangements. The way you say that word makes it sound like you’re about to crap all over someone’s day.”
“You might be not terribly far from the truth,” I replied, then perked one ear at a snuffling from the hallway out to the bunker’s door. “The rest of Ruby’s diary might have some clues as to how she got out of Supermax, and I do want to poke through Skylark’s journal...at least, what there is of it. First things first.”
“I, for one, would give an eyeball for some sleep,” Taxi answered, yawning softly as she snatched a beanbag from under Limerence and sagged into it.
“Me too, but I think we need to have this discussion with Wisteria, get some coffee, and handle our business before any of it comes knocking.”
Swift’s ears rose and her eyes opened, rolling about until they focused on me. She lifted her head, then turned to glance towards the stairs. “Sir? Queenie says Wisteria is coming.”
I tilted my head as the door to banged open and the Aroyo leader stomped in trailing Goofball on a bit of rope. The giant three-headed puppy looked a little shamefaced as she spat the rope out, but forgot whatever he’d done the moment he clapped eyes on Swift. All three tongues spilled out and he leapt across the room, upending the table as he landed in front of my partner and swept her up in his forelegs, licking everything he could.
“Eee! Goof! I just had a shower!” she squealed, pushing at his muzzles. After he’d managed to coat her face in a good, thick layer of saliva, she surrendered to the inevitable and hugged his middle head tightly. “I missed you, too, boy.”
“What’d he piss on, eat, or chew?” I asked, glancing at the scowling Wisteria.
“He eat de chil’runs homework. Dey be impossible to be teachin’ when dis beasty be about!” she grumbled, lifting her juju bag and brushing a bit of dog spit off of it. “It be obedience school for dat one!”
“Good luck with that." I shoved the spool table upright and pulled a cushion under my rump. Taxi took a place at my side and Swift on the other. "You mind joining us? We’ve got some things to discuss.”
Wisteria trundled over and elected to lay on her side, sighing contentedly. “I and I were just showin’ when we be first met. Now, de Ancestors say it be only a matter of days. I and I do hope ye not be about makin’ de last days of my second foal’s birth stompa.”
“Well, yes and no.” I sighed, gathering my thoughts. “We’ve got a problem. Your ‘demon’... the one who ran Supermax… was killing ponies. Astral Skylark has a whole heap of dead on her hooves and I can’t trust the city government. Maybe not even the Equestrian government. At least, not yet. Skylark is dead, but in the process, we ended up with buckets of prisoners. Her little convent is now under our control, but there are some...issues.”
“Ye say ‘issue’... I hear ‘stompa’, Crusada,” Wisteria said, frowning.
I bit my lip, then decided to get the worst out of the way. “There’s a magical...construct. She runs the prison. Has done since the war. I need the Aroyos to take care of her.”
Her one free wing popped into the air and she hissed, “De Aroyo be not dealin’ wid living magic!”
“Well, she wasn’t always a construct. She started life as a filly. A real filly, just like yours,” I replied, gesturing towards her stomach. Her face softened a little and I took that for a scored point. I quickly rushed on, so as not to lose my momentum. “She’s doing her best, but she needs somepony to keep her safe, hidden, and care for the prisoners until we can figure out what to do with them. She needs friends, too. Friends she can trust. These are some very high profile names I’ve got locked up in there as well. Valuable and dangerous.”
“And...what be dis doin’ wid de Aroyos?” she asked, still wary.
I held out my hooves and turned to Swift. “My partner here got herself...elected...the new Warden. That’s left us with certain...responsibilities. We need help with those responsibilities.”
Swift beamed, proudly, raising her chest up a little to show off the crescent mark.
“So, we want to give you Supermax.”
There was about ten seconds of uncomfortable silence.
Wisteria’s rear legs spasmed involuntarily and she kicked at the pillow a little, scrambling to her hooves.
“Ye be what?!” she snarled, making Goofball jump and growl softly. She gave him a look that sent him cringing into a corner. I felt like doing something similar when she leveled it at me.
“You brought me into your little family, here, so I want to contribute,” I explained, trying to keep my gaze level. I had to settle for a spot on her forehead, since her eyes seemed to be seconds from shooting fire. “I’m giving you the prison and all of the prisoners. There’s a path through the sewers which I’m pretty sure can be cleared with some dedicated effort and help from the Supermax construct. Her name is Tourniquet, by the way. Nothing short of the entirety of P.A.C.T. with Princess Celestia riding at their helm can enter that place without her permission. It’s a fortress.” I pointed one hoof at her. “Your fortress.”
Her ears twitched a little at the last two words. I could almost hear her thoughts as they formed.
Fortress.
Our fortress.
Aroyo fortress.
She must have found that to her liking, because her glare dropped to a low simmer.
Chewing her lip for a moment, she tucked her wings back against her sides and asked, “And what be we meant to do wid a prison full o’big’shot ponies?”
“Whatever you see fit,” I replied, tapping the tabletop. “My only condition is that you don’t release them until after I’m finished with my case and you don’t kill them. I’ve got enough dead on my hooves.”
Wisteria’s nose wrinkled as she came to a decision. “Hmmm… De Aroyo be not in de habit of killin’ prisoners. True, we be not in de habit of takin’ prisoners, either. Still, I and I... be havin’ Jambalaya go and see what she will see.”
“There are a few minor details we need to work out first, but I think once we’ve got those handled, you’re going to be very pleased. Incidentally, I’m going to need some of your people to make a few dozen extremely expensive cars vanish entirely. You think you can manage that?” I asked.
The Aroyo looked almost offended. “We be makin’ dem disappear like nopony knew dey be there! Where dey be?”
“The parking lot in front of your brand new fortress. Speaking of that, you may not want to go inside just yet. I’ve got to have a friend of mine make a delivery.”
****
The line rang, and rang, and rang. I was about to hang up and try again when a bored-sounding mare picked up the phone.
“Detrot Municipal Hazardous Materials. What’d you spill and how long do we have before the death pay-outs become higher than our insurance premiums?” she drolled.
“Hey Colostomy. How are things down at your end?”
“Haha… 'my end’... classic. My end is covered in shit and you know it,” she groaned, tapping the phone on the edge of her desk. “What do you want, Hard Boiled? Flood any streets with liquified chicken guts this year? Or did you maybe empty a dumptruck full of manure over a suspect? I’m shocked you didn’t kill that guy, by the way.”
“That was all Sykes and you know it!”
“Yeah, well, Sykes wasn’t the one who caused every toilet on the upper west side to run in reverse by chasing a perp into the sewer,” she snapped.
“That was five years ago. Are you ever going to let me forget about that?”
“You and I shouldn’t be on a first name basis, so no, not a chance. Now, what do you want? You never call here unless you’re making my day complicated and expensive.”
“How would you feel about accepting a considerable bribe for some unused hazard suits with filter masks on them and your silence as to their whereabouts?”
The line was quiet for a moment.
“Cash or goods exchange?”
****
“This is the Vivarium! Your home for fun, friends, and heavy bondage!”
“Morning Scarlet. It’s Hard-”
“Detective! Oh, Detective! It’s so good to hear from you! Are you alright? Nopony hurt you, did they?” he squeaked.
“I’m fine, Scarlet. We’re coming in for a visit here soon. Can you have the medics ready?”
“The... the medics? Is somepony hurt?!”
“Yes, albeit not severely. Taxi has a bullet we need to dig out of her leg and I’ve got...well, I’ve got a pony here who needs to remain very anonymous who probably needs some broad spectrum antibiotics. It might be a good idea to make sure her leylines aren’t damaged, too. In fact, all of us are probably going to need a body scan, some shots, and probably something for parasites. Can you make that happen?”
“What ever did you get yourselves into, Detective?” he asked, worriedly.
“We went for a swim. Believe me, that’s probably the most you want to know. We’ll be there soon.”
I hung up the pay phone and shook myself, then headed for the car.
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is it weird if i thought this kinda went better than the school magic meth lab incident altogether?
Er...Think you missed a word here?
Remove that -'s-
I'm deep in this fic now. I even did some one-shot noir that took inspiration from this style of writing, so, thanks for that :D
Isn't this the word count of an entire series? This could make almost eight novels by itself.
Well, whatever appetite I might've had is thoroughly gone now lol. Congrats, you two.... you did what you set out to do!
But on another note, congrats for the new milestone of over 600,000 words!
Congratulations on breaking 600,000!
Didn't quite make the second arc but it was close.
I'd say this was a boring but important kind of chapter. At least compared to the last couple.
5279819 They'd be short novels. A novel is usually around 100k, skewed right. I'd say as it is, four or five novels could be made. Each arc has a few breaking points. I think ten chapters alone were inside or on the approach to supermax, though they were a little on the smaller side.
I'm confused, why was Hardy telling Wisteria about a way into Supermax through the sewers? If they have Tourniquet on their side, couldn't she just open the front doors? I know there is that sleeping dust to clear out but that'll be done in a day or two then they should just be able to walk in right?
5280022 answer is extra simple. people are gonna notice a bunch of gangbangers walking towards that place.
5280008 Huh, thought it was 80k words (100k words for established authors) with a minimum. Entirely depends on the genre as well. I'll give you that mysteries and thrillers (from the noir in the title) would be 100k words.
But still.
5279697 I would love to read it!
My writing style has...developed...over time. Honestly, I look back at the early chapters and cringe.
5280008 I can't make every chapter crazy and wild. I do hope the characters carry it through the slow periods.
-Chessie
5280043 Maybe but they're going to have to go there anyway to get rid of those cars.
5280197 Keep in mind, the Aroyos run the sewers. That's kind of their thing. They don't like moving above ground except in their home territory.
-Chessie
5280251 Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. But if I remember right, they avoided that whole area cause of the prison defenses. So the Aroyos don't know anything about that area. Yeah they can get a map from Tourniquet but still, they need to find a way to destroy those Heartseeker things.
5280088
'Ere ya go
It's short, but the narration points had an air of this style, and I think I even mentioned this in the comments. :D
Everyone's gotta start somewhere, right? It's not much, but you can see a definite improvement though.
Definitely bumped this to favorites.
Excellent as usual. I'll be sad to see the end of this whenever it's done. Here's hoping Hardy has the good sense to have a chat with Luna at some point. I mean, if I recall, that weaponry may technically belong to her or at least she'd be a better choice than Celestia and they probably ought to be informed about the circumstances surrounding all this at some point when the information itself is less of a risk.
5280314 But...you know...personal fortress. That butters many parsnips. Would YOU turn down a personal fortress?
-Chessie
5280688 If I had to enter it through a sewer filled with killer creatures that home in on your heart and eyes that'll turn you to stone... Yeeeah, I think I'd turn it down.
5280721 Meh, I've had worse apartments.
-Chessie
5280793 I believe it.... my Dad's apartment after the divorce from my Mom a quarter century ago was nasty! There were rats (and this is Georgia, so while the rodents don't get as big as New York ones, these ones carry shotguns
).
5280793
You must have horrible living conditions wherever you live. Still if you neutralized all the eyes and killed the heartseekers, it wouldn't be too bad I guess.
Now this, was a jewel to read, and goofball here stole the show, he really did. Yet, i'm noting that swift is quickly being setup as someone that's very much an understudy here. And given all the keys to the house.
Let's see, Cerebus that loves her, check.
Warden of a super prison, check.
Tutelage in how to both irk the chief of police, flaunt the rules, and never break them, oh yeah...
Pact training, and with the PD too,
how to avoid the Obi-wan moments. Swift's future, wowza.
5280008 Scarily, this is almost at Fo:E Length, (about 60k short?) and thats, yeah, one of the longest stories out there?
5280858 Well, you can't...kill...Heartseekers. You can store them. That's pretty much your best option.
I did some hefty research on daevas before I actually wrote the chapter. They're a real menace of Zoarastrian religious mythology. There's no way to do them in permanently, but you can hurt them and they're perfectly happy to sit in a box for a few centuries until somebody lets them out to play.
-Chessie
5281076 Really? Interesting, but I'm sure if you teleported them to the sun, they'd be pretty effectively dead. Alternatively, pumping so much energy through them their entire body is vaporized, surely they can't come back from that?
5281087 Who knows? Being as P.A.C.T. has a warehouse full of them somewhere, it's at least estimable that they can survive a direct hit from a Cloudhammer, which is effectively a gun that fires bolts of lightning and is made for discouraging dragons.
-Chessie
5280879 FoE: Project Horizons is 1500k words.
I read too much too fast... I'm in the 40m ballpark.
5281424 yeah, i haven't kept track of horizons. (The author strikes me in the very wrong manner. You don't want my answer on why) But given the volume, not surprising. Though the next nearest is Murky #7, at about 900k. But this one, haha, is worth every word read, really. I love the setting and scenario.
Goodness, Detrot ponies have very blunt ways of answering the phone...
5279702 I appreciate your humor.
5280688 does hardy not being killed by the moon gun have anything to do with lunas blessing from the halloween side-fic?
hey after you finish SOD, could you make a side story detailing important events of the story through other character's perspective. I would really like to hear the thought process of swift when she thought hardy was dead, or taxi when she had her "daddy issues" and how various characters think about hardy and co.
Plan B was not nearly as bad as I was expecting...
Also - personal fortress! Fun!!
..... I love this city
5283173 How could it possibly have been worse? Short of escaping through a pool of chicken guts, and Swift would have enjoyed that.
I worry I did load that particular Chekov's gun a little too full.
-Chessie
5283541
If they had been escaping anywhere else, it would have been sufficiently bad - But that place was SO bad leaving the way they came in would have been anti-climactic. But considering what happened with Skylark, anti-climactic is just fine.
So they wade through some shit, get out, drive back to the Aroyos, meet the dog, chat to Wisteria and spend the rest of the chapter sorting out the mess of the previous half dozen or so.
Oh and Hardy offers supermax on a silver platter in exchange for dealing with and/or putting up with the prisoners to Wisteria, Wisteria talks to the ancestors a couple of times.
And Lim is on track to returning to normal. I suppose it's for the best.
Probably just as well Hardy is working for the city and not against it, he could set up his own gang and make whoever he wanted vanish in no time and conquer a few forts in the meantime.
Oh and Moonguns.
Well if certain apocryphal urban legends concerning bakeries and cupcakes are true...
By this point Gale has probably thrown his little spectral hooves up in the air, exclaiming "Shrapnel, lacerations, detonations, mutilations? No problem! Ingesting several litres of Detrot's 'finest' raw effluent? BUCK THIS! You are on your own, Hardy mate."
If Gale's love syphon was not disabled before, I have no doubt that who ever was on the receiving end is frantically trying to sever the connection.
The sad part was he was losing...
Given what Gypsy's listeners know of Hardy and Jade's relationship, she may want to clarify that Jade let Hardy go in the "released from the holding cell" sense and not "off the edge of a skyscraper with a bag over his head".
Phoenix eggs certainly sound like an excellent precursor to breakfast fast food: simply dunk the egg in a bucket of water and within seconds it will poach itself to tasty perfection! On the other hoof, the possibility of detonation, incineration, conflagration, and vaporisation would certainly put a damper on any enthusiastic, up and coming chef...
As a side note, I wonder what Switf's PACT platoon is up to in the midst of all this? Selling war surplus
morphine styrettesmagical artefacts stolen from their battle cloud fortress to Detrot's criminal underworld?Given that we have already seen two sapient buildings so far, it is entirely possible that somepony left a radio transmitter/fax machine/foal monitor too close to the Essey Internal Affairs Office and it gained sapience. On the other hoof, what has Thalassemia been up to?
Stella's horde is rapidly becoming the second largest repository for dangerous artefacts after M6's basement. I sure hope he does not go off reservation or turn mercenary...
That certainly leaves a lot of wiggle room for the legally creative...
For one thing, all those poor ponies stuffed into the phylacteries are not, technically speaking, dead are they? Simply bind all their souls to the, uh, "toys" closeted in the altar room for safekeeping.
What kind of parent names their foal "shitbag"? With a name like that, you are limited to 2 career paths. Fortunately she was accepted for apprenticeship at Detrot's waste disposal works and thus spared a career in politics....
About 7 metres of ripe, bubbling whatsit in a leachate lagoon
5280793
5280854
I have never had a problem with rats or mice in my home. I think it was because the spiders got to them first. Spiders big enough to be puntable....
5281076
Stick them in a box and mail it to your local MP perhaps?
5283781
Well Dom did mention that Hardy would have become an extremely powerful, influential person in Detrot and its environs had he not gone on instead to law enforcement.
I image Hardy is already 5/8ths the way to becoming a super villian:
- Owns a volcano/casino (Monte Cheval).
- Owns a prison fortress with a sapient A.I. construct.
- Owns a hidden bunker complex.
- Has an augmented, spec-ops soldier bruiser in his retinue (Swift, even if she is a bit cute and cuddly).
- Has a martial artist femme fatale in his retinue (Taxi).
- Has two mad scientists in his retinue (Limerance and Slip Stitch).
- Has access to a squad of ninjas.
- Frickin' lasers
- Has imprisoned half of Detrot's elite and has blackmail on the other half.
- Has a secret communication and spy network (Queeny).
- Pet megafauna attack dog.
5284014
If he's 5/8ths of the way there and you've made 11 points then what are the remaining...
6.6 points?
Feels like forever since the last chapter. This one wasn't bad; a lot of steps in a lot of the right directions, but I can't help but want for more. The last few chapters seem to be lagging about without actually GOING anywhere. Which is fine, these steps need to be taken... but at what cost (in terms of time between updates?)
Edit: congrats on breaking 600k ^.^
5284592 Well, the chapters are written at a fairly standard pace. It's publishing that is the bitch. Kasen has work related issues and Coandco can't do the actual publishing.
I'm just the writer. I can edit about as well as I can fly.
-Chessie
5284274
1. Has a fairly well-adjuster temperament; does not monologue, refer to himself in the third person, or utter the phrases "Fools! I will destroy them all!" or "Doubt me will they? I will show them! I will show them all!".
2. Has not started a crusade against "The Sun Tyrant Deceiver" or "The Great Lunar Whorse"
3. Has not made a Faustian pact with one of the Many-angled Old Ones in exchange for power.
4. Has not made himself the leader of a new religious order.
5. Has not made himself the leader of a well-armed militia.
6. Does not consult with the severed head of his parents/partner.
0.6 Potato
5284592
I would say this it not a bad thing (when used properly). It gives us readers some breathing room to relax and enjoy the scenery before the next train wreck comes barrelling down the tunnel.
5285159
I know about editor delays, so I wish you luck in getting them out sooner. I'd offer my help, but it seems you've got a pretty good system thus far. Thoroughly enjoying the story; keep 'em coming!
5287267
Very good point... Some downtime helps, but I can't help but wait for the next development... Then again, we ARE just two chapters past Skylark, so... maybe some room is what we need.
5287267
3. He did kind of get into a deal to get his heart. Though he wasn't really in a position to refuse I suppose.
4. He sort of Took over a building to stop the Lunar passage.
6. Well he does sort of consult/argue with Juniper from time to time. Though Juniper doesn't really say anything useful.
0.6 I admit I don't think I've seen any significant potato scenes, But I hope this will be remedied in a new chapter.
I onto my back, staring up at the beautiful sunrise,
I suppose there is a word missing after 'I'.
Also wonderful chapter :)
But doesn't he plan to tell Jade about Skylark's cult and what happened?
I mean hiding Cerise until she wakes up.
Even if they cannot do anything officially Jade still needs to know on unofficial level - she can be powerful ally and she will add his visit to Supermax and missing ponies anyway so better to tell his version imho.
5288053 Do you think he's going to tell her what happened? Honestly, she's lucky to get her daughter back.
What's he going to tell her, anyway? I killed the leader of the biggest religion in the city? There's a cult that was committing necromancy and could ya, by the way, keep it quiet? Your daughter just slaughtered twenty ponies while in a magically induced fugue after being stabbed in the stomach because I just had to be the good guy? We've got a ridiculous number of important ponies imprisoned there, some of whom recently attended your police ball? Oh! There's a sentient construct that-...let's just not.
I think Hardy knows better and overestimating Jade's rationality is never a good idea.
-Chessie
Act 2, Chapter 39: "Bringing Up the Rear"-
I think I saw a porno named that.Well you know... coming up behind... also a lot of poop jokes are implied.That poker guy is the evil genius behind everything.*Grins* Scarlet is going to flip methinks.
5287905
Yup.
Hardy may be the moral anchor currently, keeping this band of misfits on the Straight and Narrow, but with all the power, recruits, and materiel he is accumulating one drastic tragedy or betrayal could push him over the edge into a heroic BSOD and affect his transformation into the fearsome Warlord of Detrot.
I have a feeling that once our plucky quintet (including Queeny) arrives at the Archive, the poo will impact the cooling device in such volume that it will make their recent dip in the leachate lagoon look like a rosewater spa bath with fizzy baths salts... That business with the eggs? That sounds suspiciously like rogue(?) Archivist shennigans; that is their purview after all... Maybe Zefu is taking advantage of his father's ailing health to "diversify his investments" and expand his influence over Lim and the rest of the Archivists?
5299637
SWWIIIIFT...! What in Celetia's mane did you do to your coat?!
What is this? "Prison chic"?
Oh my Sisters, it's hideous! Just look at how it clashes! How can you ever expect to wear something sheer and silky and scandalously revealing to a social function with that great bit pentagram brand burned on your chest?!
What in the name of Twilight's horn were you thinking?"
5310609 Pfft, perfects
Hi Chessie and Kasen,
I'd just like to say how AMAZINGLY SUPER DUPER EXTRA AWESOMESAUCE this story is!
I registered here just for this story :D
Having just finished the last chapter after about four days of solid reading, I have to say that this is quite possibly the best fanfiction I have EVER read. This is better than lots of published books I've read for crying out loud!
Now, character-wise, I love all of them, especially Limerence (probably because his attitude is basically me...) and the Ladybug Collective, it's such a brilliantly original idea, and it works really well. Hardy is of course awesome as all hell, Swift is adorable (in a 'will rip you to shreds' kind of way), Taxi is just too cool and Jade is utterly terrifying.
I kinda like the double date idea going on, it will be most entertaining if it ever happens.
I'm glad Astral is dead, she was a completely sick pony, but who was her higher up? It remains to be seen...
Oh and my other favourite characters are the Dusk ponies, they are just so funny whenever they get airtime!
Speaking of air time, I'm pondering who this mysterious Gypsy is, could it be someone we know?
And are the three generals of the Crusades Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom? I realised late and couldn't find the bit where it mentions them soooo.... Yeah.
Keep being 20% cooler!
- J73
5313219 I am always glad to get new readers! There will be new chapters every two weeks until the story is finished, which should be sometime this year!
-Chessie
That's awesome!
Though I thought there were going to be three arcs, or have you condensed it into two?
Thanks!