Chapter 22: Back on track
Chapter 22: Back on track
"Home is where the heart is. It's an old saying, but it is so true!"
"Wake up Anne! Pull yourself together!" someone said to me, and from quite close. It was pleasantly warm and I was comfortable, and had been dreaming of sunny skies and lush grass. There was a lot to be said for sleeping in luxurious beds if this was the sort of dream they invoked. After all of the fighting, wounds and injuries, just lying here, warm and relaxed was unbeatable. Real life could wait for a while longer. Despite all of this, something was niggling at my mind, telling me not all was as it seemed. Some other voices that had no place being in my room made comments that my mind processed as "out of context" errors and rejected.
"Dammit, Anne, wake up!" It was that voice I knew, again. Demi. What had her so ruffled this early in the day. "Anne, you survive the horrors of the wasteland weather, yet a little sunshine knocks you out?"
Uh-oh. What was my dream imagery doing crossing over to reality? I willed my eyes to open, and found myself staring at a ring of ponies, both mares and foals, and Demi. The ground below me was covered in the most wonderful looking grass, and the sky above a beautiful and inspiring shade of blue.
"Ooweer..." I managed before my brain decided fantasy was a nicer place. If what my eyes were seeing was reality... unspeakable things had occurred, and I had been responsible for them, but that couldn't be possible, could it? I would never go out of my way to commit any atrocity. Nope, these eyes-open images must be part of one of those horrid dreams where you wake up, only to discover you are still trapped in a dream.
"Wow, that must be some bad morning sickness! Better get the doc to check you out honey!" an unfamiliar voice stated. Morning sickness? What? Oh, who cares. Wake me up when it is all over. Or wake me up now, and make it be all over.
The chattering around me continued for a little while, an additional squeaking sound gradually forcing itself into the mix. When it stopped, I felt myself getting levitated, and lowered onto something soft, but different to the mattress or grass that I had been lying on. My brain hadn't quite decided which of the two soft surfaces had been the reality. After that I felt some rocking, and a strange sense of vulnerability, as if I was trying to sleep on a tall, moving platform. Perhaps I was doing exactly that. The cyclic squeaking suggested wheels, and the instability indicated motion, so it was quite likely! But that meant reality and dream were getting crossed up with each other again.
"This is a very unusual reaction for a newcomer," a mare said. "Usually ponies want to celebrate or romp and roll."
"Maybe it is too pretty here for her?" a foal commented.
"Maybe the change is too much of a shock?" another mare offered.
"Stable Lab Zero Three?" somepony else said. Oh, that was Demi.
"You say that as if it is familiar to you. Have you heard of it before?" the first mare asked.
"No Doc, not specifically, though I knew it existed," Demi stated. "After all, for there to be a Stable Lab Zero Four, there has to be a Zero Three."
"Ah, yes, of course. Stable Lab Zero Four did have some dealing with surface dwellers. Anyway, this isn't really a Stable Lab, or not one as it had been intended. Only the buildings of Stable Lab Zero Three remain now. All of the ponies who lived here died a very long time ago. Bukov chose it as the base for his new home, his kingdom, as it were," Doc replied. I assumed this Doc pony was a doctor, as I had not heard any introductions. I tried to open my eyes again, but failed. I really didn't want to be listening to what they were saying at all, as it made a total mockery of the reality my brain was trying to assemble. I wanted to go back to my recently discovered nice warm bed, tucked under Demi's wing.
The cyclic squeaking slowed down and stopped, and I could hear the faint whir I associated with stable air conditioning, as well as other recognizable rattles and hums. After fifteen years of avoiding stables, and in particular stable labs, why was it that I seemed to be spending most of my time in them of late? You would think that even hearing 'Stable Lab' would have revived me, and had me scrambling for the surface as fast as my legs would carry me, but even that failed to activate my body. If this was reality and not a nightmare, there was something wrong, something I was avoiding, something that I could not open my eyes to look at.
"Can you tell what's wrong with her?" Demi asked. "I've seen her sleep for a few days in a row a couple of times, but she's never just fallen over like this."
Something sharp pricked my hide, followed by an expanding zone of discomfort, though that only lasted for a few moments before the needle was withdrawn. The needle can't have been anything too serious, because Demi hadn't tried to prevent it, or even commented on it.
"I'll get this blood sample into the analyzer, and we'll see what it says," the doctor responded.
Apart from the stable's background noises, and the sounds of the analyzer digesting the sample of my blood, the room remained quiet. After a little while, a blanket settled over me, no not a blanket, a wing. Demi was hugging me.
"Something is odd here," the doctor commented. "Damn, the sample must be contaminated. I will kick whoever it was that didn't clean the machine properly last time."
"What's wrong?" Demi asked.
"I'm getting two blood types here, the primary group, and a smaller amount of a second, compatible group," the doctor explained.
Oh, that would be from the guard I drained during the fight... fight for what? Why had I been fighting? Nonetheless, I could remember draining his blood. At the time I knew he was only compatible, not a complete match. Imagine the confusion if the doctor was actually looking at D.N.A. There would be a few more blood types than expected then, though I suspected poor Rosemary's blood would be present in much lower quantities, considering how often I had been wounded since... oh horrors, that is another memory I was trying to suppress. How can I get out of this maze of unpleasantness. Every way my mind turned it had to face another horror I had inflicted on some poor pony. Had I drained the blood from someone I shouldn't have? The guard I could forgive myself for, just. That had been self defense, I think. Maybe it would be better if I just stayed asleep, or whatever this weirdness counted as.
"Transfusions," Demi stated in a matter of fact way. "The poor girl was badly injured recently, so chances are she had some transfusions. Would that explain it?"
"It would," the doctor agreed.
How did Demi know about my ability to drain the blood of others? Had I told her? I didn't think I had told her. I didn't think I had told anyone.
"She told me the doctors had her unconscious for a couple of days, and she eventually sneaked out before she was fully healed, so it must have been a pretty bad injury. It looked bad when I saw it happen," Demi continued. Oh, she must be thinking the transfusion was something Cirrus or Shadow did after our fight with the radroaches.
"Is that so... oh, this is very odd. There must be a mistake. The sample shows no sign of pregnancy. Bukov never brings anyone down here unless he has already got them pregnant," the doctor paused. "You, my girl, we will be watching with great interest. When he told me he had found an earth pony with a wing. I was most interested!"
Oh, so the doctor was assuming Demi was pregnant. Keep your cool Demi! It was a good thing she had distracted herself too. Explaining the whole falling down a drain story could get complex! Especially considering it led to... what did it lead to? Was that why I was lying here in this physical purgatory?
"Why?" Demi asked. "Tell me why Bukov always chose crippled mares? It seems an odd kink to sustain in a world where mobility and the ability to fend for yourself is important. Then again, there isn't much of that needed in this little paradise, is there?”
Oh, that's right Demi. Don't let slip that you aren't pregnant yet, not until we can work out what is going on. Not until I can work out why I want to curl up and die, and leave you to this most horrid of worlds. Surely it isn't because I think I have found you a safe place? No. I don't want to abandon you Demi, forgive me, please forgive me. Is this the same thing that happened to my mother? Is this why her personality stepped out, never to be heard from again? Is this why some total stranger is walking around the wasteland in her body, on her hind legs, what's more? Hang on, wasn't I going to do something about that?
"It isn't being crippled that is important to our research," the doctor stated. "We wanted mares that exhibited real mutations, such as your single wing. The easiest way to get them was to put out a blanket request for crippled mares and take advantage of those we got. It isn't like the average wasteland pony has enough education to distinguish one from the other. All the same, none of the crippled ones were turned away."
"Research?" Demi asked.
"Yes. I guess Bukov hasn't filled you in yet. Where is he, anyway? He usually takes the time to personally introduce the new fillies. Come to think of it, he hasn't popped in for a few days." The doctor sounded pouty. "Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, about twenty three years ago Bukov discovered this place, this Stable Lab Zero Three, and the building it was hidden beneath. When he opened it, he found it completely abandoned. It had originally been tasked with creating a way to wipe out zebra kind by exposing them to a targeted mutagen. Unfortunately, they had a catastrophe with one of the mutagens they had developed, and it wiped them all out. According to the logs, it took the lab's automated systems and robots over ten years to decontaminate the place. After that, they maintained it for over a century and a half."
"So you are saying Bukov walked in and took over the research?" Demi asked, incredulously.
"No, but he recognized the potential of their research, if it was used for a more noble purpose, such as finding cures to radiation and taint. What he found was their storehouse of wealth. He used that to gather together a number of scientists, myself for example, and we carried on from where their research had stopped. Unlike the original scientists, we made sure our mutagens would only work in a specific circumstance, and that circumstance is the moment of conception. For a few years, Bukov busied himself with setting up some sort of power base that would serve our purposes. Finding a unicorn capable of casting the protective shield around the entire lab and gardens wasn't easy. Finding one who could manage the artificial sunshine spells was a little easier, as apparently that was a spell often used in stables to grow crops. But as that task requires the constant effort of the unicorn, so we've updated to sun lamps now, but I digress. About twelve years ago all of our efforts cumulated in having the specialized delivery system built by another of the Stable Labs, the one you mentioned actually. Bukov had the system made in such a way he would have absolute control of it. You see, Bukov is that delivery system, and his upgraded body includes a form of genetic bank, as well as the system we built to create the corrective mutagen. It's all quite tidy. He gets the filly pregnant. We get a nice, mutation free foal to help repopulate this damned wasteland. We've been monitoring the success rate, and it is looking good. You saw some of the little darlings romping around in the gardens didn't you?"
So the handsome bastard had been to the hell that created me. Where was he now anyway?
"Um... Yeah." Demi said, noncommittally, "but why such young mares? Why gather fillies that are only just reaching marehood physically speaking?" Demi pushed. "I don't like the idea of bringing a foal into the world when I'm not that much more than a child myself!"
"Oh, you'll do fine, love. We'll help and guide you through it all. Even I've had three of my own to him. As for why he likes you so young, his excuse is that the younger the female is, the less corruption her genes will have undergone by wasteland radiation," the doctor offered.
"Then why start with mutants? Isn't that going to work against you?" Demi countered.
"We want established mutations to see if we can correct the genetic code for the next generation. Mutations that have not expressed themselves are of no interest," the doctor explained. "So far our expectations have been met. I so look forward do seeing if your foal has two wings or none."
"A moment ago you said excuse, not reason. What is the reason such youngsters are taken?" Demi asked, a dark and determined tone to her voice.
"Er, yeah. I find it hard not to be honest," the doctor admitted. "The reason Bukov picks up fresh young fillies is because he is a perverted old stallion."
Thank you Demi! That simple revelation freed my mind of the guilt that was binding it, or at least untangled the guilt enough that I could wiggle my way out.
"Was a perverted old stallion," I stated as my memories and senses returned to me. I could understand now. I could recall killing the creator of this paradise. I was blaming myself for the destruction of part of the cure on this blighted world. It was true. I had. Their scientific program was stuffed. Bukov and his special systems were buried outside, shorted, fused, warped, welded, and destroyed by all of the magic I could muster at the time I was killing him. Maybe they could try to make another Bukov, but Stable Lab Four had possibly been destroyed. (What's with this Zero bit? It's only what is written on the stable doors. No one actually says it do they? We never did when I lived there. Well, no one apart from Loopy Lee.) In effect, I had destroyed the future of this little paradise, and I suspected it would be a long time before I could forgive myself for that. What had set me free, allowed me just enough mental space to face it, thank you Demi, was realizing my judgement of Bukov as a pony had been right. His goals may have been noble, but his methods were unforgivable. He had been a handsome bastard. He could have just asked for fillies to join him, instead of stealing their lives from them, psychologically torturing them, and effectively raping them. No, I did not regret killing the pony.
I levitated out his eyeballs from my possession and dropped them in front of the doctor. She was a pretty pale pink, with a bubbling test tube for her cutie mark. Her red eyes were wide with horror as she recognized the eyes for what they were, and her coat took on a sickly white color. "What..." she stammered.
"Unfortunately your Bukov kidnapped the wrong pony," Demi interjected. "It took us three days to work out how to open the door to this place. We were meant to be the rescue mission."
"How can this be, how can this possibly be?" the pale doctor wailed. "Our Bukov dead? All of our work for nothing?"
"That's a pretty grim way to look at it," I muttered. "All of those little mutation free fillies and colts should count for more than nothing!"
"But we had such plans!" she continued to wail.
"So what? We all have plans," I responded. "Very rarely does that mean we succeed with those plans. Think of all of the ponies that had plans for their own lives when Bukov kidnapped them, tortured them, then stuck them down here!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the doctor suddenly stopped wailing. "What is this kidnapping business? All of the mares down here are glad to be here!"
"Yes, after they are all nicely brainwashed into thinking Bukov is a near deity," Demi responded. "I already told you he was killed for kidnapping the wrong pony. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"But he would never do that!" the doctor defended her lover.
"Clearly you are as brainwashed as the rest, love," I informed her. "While you may think you have a wonderful thing going on down here, up above there are ponies that prefer their freedom to being locked away in a place like this. Trust me, I broke out of one of these hell holes fifteen years ago."
"What..."
"I'm a Stable Lab Four cyborg too," I admitted. "Anyway, I have done what I came down here to do. You ponies can now leave if you want, or stay locked up if you choose. There are three more fillies up top that might like to come down here with you, but I don't think they are pregnant. Demi and I are leaving."
I let myself down from the hospital trolley, found that despite the recent and somewhat unnerving refusal of my body to listen to me, I was back to my old self. I scooped up Bukov's eyeballs again, and with Demi falling in behind me, we started on our way out.
"Wait!" the doctor almost demanded. "You can't take our one winged mutant with you. We need to study her through her pregnancy!"
"One," Demi said, her tone filled with disgust, "I am not pregnant. Two, I am not your mutant. And three, Bukov made the same mistake, and look where that got him."
Damn, this doctor was as selfish as Bukov was in her own ways. Despite all that had been said, she had the gall to claim ownership over Demi.
Demi and I quickly made our way out of Stable Lab Three, and through the gardens towards the entry to this place. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the structure that formed the blue 'sky', and supported the cluster of sun-lamps. Yes, it really was a beautiful place, but I wondered if it had any right existing. It was a gilded cage. No one who grew up in its sanctuary would last long out in the wasteland. It was just another one of those cursed stable experiments, albeit a late starter.
I paused at the door operating mechanism to update it, although 'paused' doesn't quite cover the effort required. I guess I must have spent the better part of an hour with my horn jammed against the lock as I used my magic to probe around, deconstructing Bukov's systems, and building replacements as needed. I scrubbed the dependence of Bukov's eyes from the system. Now any mare that could reach the lock could open it from the inside. Any mare that left the building was remembered so that she could let herself in again, although if she was accompanied by anyone new, approval would be needed from others still within the safe area.
Finally I activated the door, and stepped through with Demi. It closed behind us. Before I opened the outer door, I turned to Demi.
"It was very pretty in there, and you would be safe. Are you sure you don't want to stay here?" I asked.
"Pfft," Demi responded, and opened the outer door. As if she would have answered any other way.
This bed really was quite comfortable. I really wished I could take it with us. I lay there, legs crossed, examining the pony standing before me. She was neatly dressed in new, custom barding I had constructed from the barding taken from Bukov's stores. The Stable Lab barding would have been a better place to start from, but that meant going back down into that hole-in-the-ground with the pretty garden. After we had led the three devoted fillies down to the antechamber, Demi and I had decided to avoid the place. Mable had been appointed mediator between those who lived in the mansion, and those who lived in the stable merely because she was experienced in administration. If she was happy or annoyed about it, we couldn't tell, as her expression had remained neutral. Cook had gone back to what he liked doing, slave or not, and was feeding the staff that remained. A new contract had been struck with the griffins, who once again were protecting the mansion, even if they knew nothing of what was below. If it wasn't in their contract, they didn't really care.
"Well, Cherry Sundae, Bubbles, you are now dressed to face the wasteland," I said, "so where you go is up to you." I'd made barding for Bubbles too, but of somewhat different design, taking into account she was riding on Cherry's back, so needed better protection for her chest. That she had no forelegs had made it easier to achieve.
"Does that include tagging along with you, or is that an 'invitation' for us to get out of your hair?" Cherry asked, her tone neutral.
"You are welcome to come along for the moment," I responded. "We'd be glad of the company, but there will come a time were we need to part ways, unless you actually wish to go crawling around in collapsed stables and holes under the ground while trying to work out what is wrong with my mother."
"Um... I don't think I quite got that," Cherry said.
"Don't worry. It's a possible future. My mother is a cyborg like me, and there is something wrong with her. The plan is for us to go back to the stable that built us to see if she can be repaired. The catch is that we believe the stable in question was destroyed." I explained. "For the moment we are heading back to meet the rest of my team, and a lot of lovely little mares who live in yet another stable. You may wish to stay with them. We are looking for a place to make a new home for them. They'd love you and Bubbles."
"Oh, okay. We'll meet them then," Cherry agreed.
"Do you have a destination of your own? If you like, we could head to some place you prefer after that," I suggested.
"Nope. Bubbles and me have already chatted about it. We don't want to go to our previous homes. Not yet, anyway," Cherry explained.
"Welcome to the madhouse," I said. "If there is anything anyone needs to do before we leave, now would be a good time."
"I'm good to go," Demi announced from beside me, where she was lounging. She was dressed in her new custom barding too, complete with holster, now containing a ten millimeter pistol instead of her former .22LR silenced pistol, as someone had stolen that.
"Apart from saying thanks and goodbye to Cook and the ponies in the kitchen, I'm good to go too," Cherry said.
"I'm good to go too!" Bubbles added.
Now that she was with Cherry almost all of the time, it was rare for her to curl up into a ball. It was good to see her enthusiasm.
"Is there any particular reason we are leaving so late in the day?" Cherry asked.
"My hair cut took longer than expected," I responded. I had it restyled with bangs, so that Demi and I now matched. "Seriously, leaving at odd times is just what we do. Somehow it often works out that way. Of course, we could stay to morning..."
"But something will catch our attention and will take half the day to solve," Demi added.
"By which time it will be late, and we would end up staying until morning again," I concluded.
"Oh. I see what you mean. Then let's walk now!" Cherry suggested.
And we did. As planned, we stopped off at the kitchen to wish Cook and the staff well. For the effort, we were provided with some more travelling provisions, and their best wishes. It seemed all of the kitchen staff had elected to remain there, even though they were no longer slaves. They had even negotiated a modest wage over the top of board and lodgings. There was talk of them revamping the education wing to rent out as hotel rooms. I wished them well.
Waving, we walked out into the afternoon gloom, and away from Bukov's mansion. I turned once, to give the griffin snipers a wave, but with them hidden in their vantage points, I couldn't tell if they returned the gesture. I would miss the lovely bed there, but as long as I had Demi with me, anywhere was as good a place to sleep as any other. Our route was essentially the opposite of what we had taken to get here in the first place, backtracking to the slave pens where I had first found Demi. It was a little out of our way, but there were advantages in going that way. I could recover my Stable Four barding and the items within it, including the armor for my other foreleg. From there, it would be easier to find our way to Stable Four, remembering that the only way known into the place was to fall down a very deep hole! At least, with that hole as a reference point, we could scout around on the surface looking for other ways in. I had it marked on my Pipgirl of course, but so far that didn't have a particularly up to date map of the area, and a usable but longer route was preferable to a more direct route that suddenly required crossing ravines, toll bridges or other hazards.
As it turned out, our first interruption came when we approached the area I had helped Golden Delicious and Chain Mail to battle the raiders. The light was failing, and we had been considering the possibility of using that camp as our own if it wasn't occupied. As we approached, we fell quiet. Even Bubbles understood silence was required. Indicating they should wait, I went stealth mode, and sneaked up on the camp. The fire was the first indication that there were others there. A little closer and I heard the rough and coarse language of a couple of stallions. They reminded me of how Golden Delicious and Chain Mail had sounded before I approached them and they put on the charm. Actually, these two sounded exactly like them. I checked my E.F.S., and found there were three friendly marks, the third near them. What if it really was them with another slave? I hoped not. Then again, with the way they had treated Demi, perhaps I did hope they were still at it, so I would have the excuse to ventilate their skulls. Whatever the case, the ponies were not currently hostile so approaching them was not out of the question. If they did turn out to be slavers, I'd do what I was becoming good at and kill a couple more ponies.
I backed of a few dozen paces, so I wouldn't appear out of nowhere and startle them, stood, and began making my way towards them. Hearing me, they looked up and I could see their colors were different from Golden Delicious and Chain Mail. They made no sudden moves, but I could see they were wary, and their guns were within their reach. Of course, out in the wasteland, that was being positively friendly. Many amiable negotiations had been carried out with both parties casually pointing a gun at the other. The third pony, another stallion, was resting on a bedroll, facing away from me. I could not see if he was chained. His barding and the bedroll suggested he wasn't a captive.
"Evening boys," I greeted them. "I'll get to the point. Is he for sale? Is he for Bukov?"
"What the hell missy?" one of the two by the fire replied. "Do you think we are bucking slavers or something. Piss off before we start shooting."
"Thanks boys, that's what I wanted to hear," I responded. "Mercenaries?"
"Yeah, and currently under contract," the second responded.
The lying stallion rolled over, looking in my direction. His yellow coat and mane were well groomed. He looked like he belonged in one of the walled towns, not out here in the wastes. "What is it, love?" he directed at me.
"Sir, I have a small party of ponies with me. Would you have problems if we set up camp nearby?"
"You can if you wish. Any funny business and I'll have my boys start shooting. Can you live with that?" he asked.
"Sounds fair enough," I agreed. "I'll be back in a moment."
I turned my back on them, and walked back towards where I had hidden my companions. No one fired at me. Well, I guess they passed that test. The three fillies were quietly waiting for me where I had left them. Bubbles and Demi looked up expectantly.
"The camp is safe. A couple of mercenaries and their employer are there at the moment. They find the concept of slavery offensive," I said.
"Yay for nice ponies," Demi agreed.
"Can I talk now?" Bubbles asked.
"Yes, Bubbles, you can talk now. Well done for being quiet for so long!" I praised her, making her smile broadly.
"Come on, let's go," I suggested. "We hid in a depression last time I was here. It should make a reasonable place to sleep."
As we filed into view of the mercenaries and their client, all three sat up, paying us full attention. One indicated we should move right up with them and share their fire, so we did, settling on the ground near them.
"I'm sorry about before," one of the mercenaries apologized. "I didn't realize you were an escaped slave. Now I can understand why you asked that question."
"So who did you escape from? Bukov per chance?" the yellow stallion asked. "Please, I need to know."
"We did," Cherry Sundae admitted. "Why?"
"Apparently my daughter was sold to the bastard. We are heading out there so I can attempt to buy her back."
"Shit," I cussed, before thinking things through.
"What?" the stallion asked, worried. "Did something happen?"
"I'm afraid so," I admitted, "but before we panic, please describe your daughter." I thought back to the dead fillies. Hopefully this fellow's daughter wasn't one of them. His coloration suggested a certain hornless unicorn though, and I was hoping, praying that she was the pony in question.
"She's about your age, I'd guess. She's yellow like me and she's a unicorn like her mother but she lost her horn in a recent accident. The scarring on her face is quite evident," the stallion stated.
"Oh, thank Celestia for that!" I exclaimed, "No, not that she lost horn, I mean that fortunately she is still alive. She was part way though Bukov's brainwashing when we broke out, so she got a bit miffed when I killed the jailer. I left her in her cell until all the fighting was over."
"So she is all right?" the stallion asked.
"Well, apart from a bit of an attitude problem, she's fine. She's hanging around with two of the other slave fillies. I don't know if she will be easy to find when you get there though. Ask for Mable to assist you. If she won't, look up Cook in the kitchen," I suggested.
"What about Bukov? Do you think he will sell?" The yellow stallion paused as he thought through what he had learned. "For that matter, you seem relaxed for an escaped slave. Why aren't you running?"
"We aren't being chased, so why run?" I responded. "Your daughter should be free to leave if she so wishes. She may want to stay there though, so be warned. Bukov himself is no longer in the picture. It wasn't just the jailer I killed."
"What?" the three stallion chorused.
"Anne killed Bukov, and his guards," Demi interjected.
"Shee-it!" one of the mercenaries exclaimed. "You really killed that monster?"
I nodded.
"Who are you? The grim reaper or something?" the other mercenary asked.
"Not that again," I responded.
"Pardon?"
"Oh, the doc at New Appleloosa calls me that ever since I took out a Steel Ranger," I responded with a little bit of a smirk. "And, no, I'm not joking."
"Oh, you're the filly that DJ Pon-3 mentioned. A few nights ago you busted up a couple of locals for selling their daughter to slavers?" the yellow stallion asked.
"Uh, yeah. That would be me. Anyway, if we are going to share this fire tonight, perhaps we should introduce ourselves?"
Morning arrived, and after a basic breakfast at the crack of dawn, the two parties went their separate ways, one stallion eager to be united with his daughter, several fillies determined to reach their destination by lunch time, even if that was being a little hopeful. If anything, the weather was helpful, providing a gentle tail-wind that kept us cool, and assisted us on our way. Bubbles tried walking a few times, with Cherry Sundae supporting Bubble's front with her levitation. As Cherry's magic was occupied, Bubbles kept up a running commentary of what was before them, steering Cherry's progress with her voice. At least Bubbles was getting exercise. I wondered if the Stable Four mares would be able to fix up some artificial legs for her, or even a wheelchair that was the reverse of Lana's. There would come a time when Bubbles would simply be too big to ride Cherry everywhere. When we visited Stable Lab Four, I'd have to keep my cybernetic eyes open for more of the same, in the hope they may help Cherry. Of course, her being blind all of her life would work against her, as her visual centers might be unable to process the new information.
Several hours of determined walking later, our little group having stopped here and there to rest tired legs and backs, we arrived near the slave pen from which I had rescued Demi. Once again I went into stealth mode, having the fillies wait while I crept towards the slave camp. There was no point risking unnecessary fighting with the fillies close by. I was expecting the place would be deserted, but the wasteland surprised me by having a couple stallions sitting at the fire pit, evidently cooking something for lunch. The pen itself was empty. That was either good, because it meant they weren't slavers, or bad, because they needed someone to put in there!
I moved in a little closer. One of these fellows was tan, with a gold mane and tail, while the other was gold with a tan mane and tail. Both bore cutie marks depicting manacles and chains, suggesting they had been raised into the slavery business. Oh, it was that pair of scoundrels, Golden Delicious and Chain Mail. Well, as they didn't have any slaves with them, I couldn't justify simply shooting them there and then. I stood, and walked towards them, wondering if the encounter would lead to the exchange of bullets.
"Two slavers sitting in a known slave camp," I commented as I got near. They jumped a little, clearly having failed to notice me, even though I had stopped sneaking.
"Oh shit, oh. Hi Annie! Fancy seeing you here!" Golden Delicious managed.
"Golden, Chain, how's business?" I asked.
"Well, it's kind of mixed at the moment. At your suggestion, we've been giving this non-slaver life a try," Golden Delicious answered. "We are trying our luck with medical supplies and ammo at the moment. Everypony needs those. We were going to head out to Bukov's and see if we could set up some regular business, him being one of our former clients and all."
"I'm glad to hear that," I responded. "It'll save me shooting you!" I added with a big grin.
The two looked at me, unsure if I was joking or not. After a moment, Chain Mail continued the conversation.
"Unfortunately we seem to have hit a snag. According to the latest from DJ Pon-3, someone has assassinated Bukov, and wiped out everypony there. I'm surprised, and glad to see you are alive. Perhaps you can fill us in what really happened."
"Did DJ Pon-3 actually say everypony?" I asked, wondering if I was going to have another beef with the wasteland loudmouth.
"Well, no, not exactly. Apparently some of the old staff survived, and the place is under new management," Golden Delicious explained.
"That would be Mable," I responded. "She is your new management. They probably need supplies just as much as ever. Their ammo and medical supplies certainly took a hit!"
"You still haven't told us what happened?" Chain Mail prompted.
"Oh, that's easy. You guys sold a pissed off cyborg assassin to Bukov, and she killed everypony that challenged her, including the cyborg bastard, Bukov himself," I said smiling.
"You have to be joking. Not that one winged filly? She fought us for all she was worth on the trip there, but I don't think she would be capable of that," Golden Delicious stated, inadvertently admitting what I already knew about Demi's trip to Bukov's.
"Quite so, and I'd apologize to her, if I was you. Your behavior toward her was reprehensible!" I scolded them.
"Gee, Annie, you make us feel like scum," Chain Mail commented.
"You behaved like scum, or didn't you realize that?" I asked, "and no, dear little Demi One Wing wasn't the cyborg."
"Then who else? It wasn't as if we sold him many... oh shit," Golden Delicious said, his face suddenly going pale, and his coat hair standing on end.
"What?" Chain Mail asked.
"We are so fucked," Golden Delicious stated. "Annie is the assassin."
Chain Mail also went pale, his coat standing on end too. My earlier observations about this pair not really being fighters seemed to be spot on. I had never seen stallions so scared in my life!
"I'm glad you understand the situation, boys," I said. "I made myself a promise to kill you if you didn't mend your ways. I was kind of hoping I would find you with a slave, so I would be justified in shooting you for how you treated Demi, but as it seems you are trying to make an honest living, I have no choice but to let you live."
Their collective relief was palpable, and they jumbled out a mishmash of apologies and thanks.
"Now, while I'm at it, I don't suppose you still have the stuff you stole from Demi, do you?" I asked.
Golden Delicious shook his head. "Sorry, Annie, we sold them. I'll tell you what, we'll give her a big discount on anything she wants to buy."
"I'll take a hundred ten millimeter rounds at one hundred percent off," Demi called from where she had been hiding. It wasn't like we had any caps on us at the moment. "And I promise I won't send them back to you at high velocity."
"Shit, we're surrounded," Chain Mail muttered.
I shrugged. "It's a good thing we aren't in the killing mood, isn't it boys!"
"Make it fifty," Golden Delicious suggested.
"You took my custom barding, gun, ammo, food, healing potions, and my caps," Demi's voice called back, "not to mention what you got for selling me."
"Oh, okay. Two boxes of ten millimeter, the good stuff. That's one hundred bullets, and we are even," Golden Delicious capitulated, rummaging in his saddle. He produced the two boxes, placing them on the ground before me. "Annie has them, okay?"
"Okay," Demi called back, from a slightly different location too. Smart girl! She was taking her self appointed job of back-up seriously, even though I didn't think this pair of ex slavers would cause any problems. The difficulty in getting the shells out of them had been just right. Any easier, and I would have expected a bullet in the back as we left.
"Oh, and Demi? Sorry for how we treated you when we captured you," Golden Delicious added, as if it was an after thought.
"Yeah, sorry," Chain Mail agreed.
"We'll be on our way now, boys," I said. "Stay honest."
"We will," Chain Mail agreed, while Golden Delicious nodded sincerely.
"Oh, you didn't sell a yellow unicorn filly without a horn to Bukov, did you?" I asked as I scooped up Demi's bullets, and deposited them in my barding.
"No, not us. Why?" Golden Delicious asked.
"If you had, I would have told you to postpone your visit to Bukov's estate," I stated. I left it at that. If they really hadn't, there was nothing to worry about. "See ya boys."
With that, I turned my back on them, heading over to the ruin in which I had hidden my old barding before approaching these slavers the first time. Climbing the stairs to the upper room, I located the old cabinet in which I had locked my belongings, and picked its simple lock with my telekinesis. Opening the door, I found things were exactly as I had left them. Yay! Win! I quickly changed from my newer barding into the barding the girls from Stable Four had made me, and transferred my belongings across, before folding the new barding and stashing it as well.
That done, I decided to make a stealthy exit, carefully climbing out of one of the window openings on the opposite side of the building, climbing down the rubble, and working my way back around to where I had left the fillies. Demi joined me for the last few dozen paces of the trip, then gathering the others, we crept away from the slave pen, and the ex-slavers. Realistically, we were far enough away that even Bubble's blundering couldn't be heard, but it was good practice, so we kept at it for a few minutes, before returning to more casual behavior.
"Your shells," I said, pulling out the two boxes of bullets, and levitating them towards Demi.
"Thank you," she said, taking one in her mouth, then squirreling it away in her barding. "You keep the other box. You'll use them defending us anyway, and I see that as a good investment," she said with a grin.
I gave her a quick nuzzle, and stashed the shells.
"Well, I didn't expect to catch up with that pair again quite so soon," I admitted. "Nor did I really expect them to try a new profession."
"Hopefully they stick at it," Demi agreed. "It's nice to let somepony live, isn't it? We can't kill everypony who wrongs us, or the wasteland would get to be a lonely place!
"Yeah, it would," I agreed.
"But it would be so peaceful," Demi added wistfully, a few moments later.
Footnote: Keep working at it, another level isn't far away. Perk: None. Your reputation is spreading.
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Vonda full.
Also who made that picture it looks great I'm really looking to kick start my fict after I get my new appartment and I'm really looking for a new image
well that went quite smoothly for the heroes this chapter
897858
I did the picture.
good chapter and good drawing
and that one guy with the hornless daughter I hope he can fix her
899291
I gotta say I was also wondering who did the pictures
But since you do them I gotta say nice drawing its really good
Great story/chapter by the way
899291 well I have to say you have a great talent do you think you might be interested in doing a sketck for me?
Well, that turned out quite okay. Let's hope daddy manages to deprogram his daughter
A few corrections:
> mutogen
"mutagen", actually ;)
> or stay locked up if you chose
"choose"
> lovely little mares who live in yet another stable.
Shouldn't that be "lived"? They kinda put a lot of effort into that leaving, after all.
I was raging 1/4 of the story, i have enough of self pitty with the the 99% self pity- fic called Project Horizon, didnt want this to turn into that as well , glad it didnt
900442
Alas, no. I'm really not that good at drawing, and it takes me absolutely ages!
900540
The mares were still living in Stable Four last time Anne saw them!
902943
Point. Which is why I just questioned it, rather than correcting it
902919
Nonsense. Your drawings are awesome, and the reason they take so long is probably because you spend time making them more awesome by colouring them by hand
Demi is well on her way to being quite the little psychopath. As many wasteland super heroes as there are lately (little pip, blackjack, hired gun, annie, etc.) they could just stand ten feet apart and sweep through the wasteland and clean the whole place out like mowing the lawn.
Happy birthday "We're No Heroes"!
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