//------------------------------//
// Lesson 4: Find Worthy Opponents 
// Story: Chessmaster's Apprentice 
// by Magic Step 
//------------------------------//

	The Coastal City Guard station was supposed to be an impressive building, but it’s hard to be impressed by a building in a perpetual state of either half-destroyed or under construction. Ordinarily, Phillip would have wondered why they bothered, but given current circumstances the construction workers now had hope that this renovation might be more permanent.
He followed the orange “Please use back door” signs to the part of the building that only had the roof slightly less charred than the rest. A small herd of construction workers were pouring concrete to replace a part of the sidewalk that had been blown up.
Phillip Finder pushed through the glass door to the temporary lobby in what used to be the training equipment storage room. A cheap, light, particle board desk sat unponied a few yards from the door, and three ponies, two male and one female, all in uniform, stood casually by a nearby water cooler, laughing at something the female had said apparently.
“I need the criminal record of Honey Quill,” Phillip Finder told them.
“Oh, the stairs are right over—” the mare started.
“Should he really be—” one stallion asked.
“I can take you—” the other stallion said.
All three stopped and stared at each other.
 	“Thanks,” Phillip said, brushing past them towards the indicated stairs.
Down the steep, wooden steps that made every hoofbeat echo was what was apparently the ex-basement. Plain concrete walls with exposed copper pipes overhead housed rows and rows of metal shelves with cardboard boxes neatly sorted. Somepony cared to keep it tidy, at least.
Except that nothing was labeled. Just rows and rows of identical white cardboard boxes, lids tightly shut to keep their contents secret.
“Some OCD caretaker wants plenty of job security,” Phillip muttered to himself as he trotted down the aisle, scanning for another living being. “How am I supposed to find Honey Quill’s folder if I can’t—”
“Honey Quill! Why didn’t you say so when you first came in!?” said a squeaky female voice.
Phillip looked around for the source and saw a tan unicorn filly with a lavender mane riding a sliding ladder towards him. “I’ll get that for you in a jiff!” She sprang to the top of one bookcase and  scrambled along, having to crawl slightly because of how close the ceiling was.
She was only gone for a moment before she scooted back on a cart for moving boxes and tossed a file at Phillip’s hooves. “Honey Chestnut!”
Phillip looked at the label, checking that he hadn’t misheard the excitable filly. “No, no, I need Honey Quill…”
        “Right, you’ll find that name under her old aliases. She’s got a lot of them.”
Phillip flipped the folder open. Three pictures were attached to the file; in one she had long plum hair, in another a short teal mane, and in the last the golden curly mane that matched the hairs he’d found. 
Nothing was known about her until a few years ago when she apparently bought her first Coastal City apartment, although given her constant name and identity changes that didn’t necessarily prove anything. She’d had several jobs, and the places she worked experienced more lost inventory when she was there; she moved several times, often abruptly; her neighbors said she was out a lot, and that she invited many friends and boyfriends over but rarely for a second visit.
The more he read, the more obvious it became that if Dr. Peculiar had been hoping to find support for his patient, he was going to be disappointed.
He turned to the next page of the file. While nothing concrete had been linked to Honey Quill, when three otherwise unrelated ponies were murdered and clues indicated they’d all known Honey, the police had searched her house while she was absent on another mysterious trip. They’d hardly been prepared for the results.
In her basement, police hit quite an extensive stash of items either illegal, or like nothing any of them had even seen before. Some were individual devices, and others were stocked in huge quantities. The forensic unicorn had said the room reeked of magic, whatever that meant.
Then, while the officers had gone to find a wagon to haul all the evidence away, one of the unrecognized devices went off. It had exploded, like a bomb, but instead of an explosion, a silver mist had emerged that caused every inanimate object it touched to turn to mist and float away, leaving nothing for the police to confiscate. More than that, the forensic scientist who’d been left in the room had nearly died by fading away too, but had eventually recovered from his unique injury.
Shortly after that incident, Honey Quill had been hired by Ray Industries, presumably to answer phones. But SuperStar and the police hadn’t really been fooled.
She meant for those items to be found, Phillip Finder thought. It let the world know that she had resources none of them knew about, and gave them reason to hire her.
And as the thought crossed his mind, he flipped to the last page of the folder and found a crumpled sheet of paper sealed in an evidence bag. A sticky note attached to the bag said “Found this when she was arrested. Any idea what it means? S*.” Yes, SuperStar apparently actually signed his name with a doodle of a star.
The paper itself looked like a random scramble of letters, but thanks to all the time spent deciphering notes Zugzwang left for him, it didn’t take Phillip long to realize it was just replacing every letter with the letter after it in the alphabet. It was like the writer wanted to use a cipher code, but didn’t actually want to put effort into it.
                    Roses are red,
                    Queens dress in black,
                    I’ve followed my heart,
                    I’ll never look back.
                    ~XOXO Honey
“Queens dress in—” Phillip gave a little start. Ciphers? Black queens?
“It all makes sense.” Phillip handed the book back to the filly, who zipped off on her cart again. “We never fully knew how Zugzwang managed to break into the Ray Tower so easily; but if he had inside help...”
The filly was already out of sight, but he shouted a thank you in her direction anyway. Then he headed back up the stairs; he had some addresses he needed to check...

***

Dr. Peculiar was trying to fill out reports, but his vision was swimming. He stood up and rested his crossed forehooves on the desk and stretched his back, a soft groan escaping him.
After staring at the same section of a chart for several bleary minutes, it was clear he wasn’t going to get any work done until he got some sleep. He forced himself to finish the immediate items and filed the rest in a to-do folder.
A knock at the door made him jolt awake.
“G’day, mate. How’s the patient?”
Dr. Peculiar rubbed his forehead next to his horn. “More marks appeared. We had to sedate him because he was trying to tear our equipment apart in order to to build things. The dose was dangerously high, and he still won’t stop twitching, struggling to wake up…”
The brown earth pony walked into the room and fished around in a pocket of his green vest. “Found where your patient’s girlfriend used to live, and I think you’ll want to look at something I’ve found there.” He drew out a small jar filled with tiny red worms. The label had a date from four months ago.
Dr. Peculiar took the vial into his magic aura and held it at eye level. “This… um… I-I’m not sure, but…”
“It matched the pictures the virologist department sent,” Phillip said. “Seems this girlfriend wasn’t in it for love.”
“She wasn’t...” Dr. Peculiar felt cold, and realized he couldn’t finish that question.
“Don’t understand all these fancy magic cures, but I thought having a sample would help,” Phillip said.
“Maybe,” Dr. Peculiar said unenthusiastically. He set the vial down on his desk and stared into space. It couldn’t be her...
Phillip wove into the space Dr. Peculiar was staring into. “It’s getting late, doctor. Really should think about getting some rest.”
Dr. Peculiar sighed and donned his wool jacket. He really did need to head home, for more reasons than one. “Where are you going next?”
“Actually, I’m headed the same way. How about we go together?”
Dr. Peculiar shrugged and followed Phillip out of the hospital.
Dr. Peculiar hadn’t known what to make of the detective when they’d first met; used as he was to SuperStar, Phillip had seemed so cold as to appear evil by contrast. But they’d gotten along well enough, once Dr. Peculiar had gotten over his fear, because he believed in the good in ponies.
Though that same belief had been flagging lately.
The two stallions emerged from the hospital into the cool dusk air. A hoofful of dry leaves skittered across their path, pushed by the ocean breeze as they walked side by side.
“What’s on your mind, Doc?” Phillip Finder asked.
“It’s… it’s nothing…” No it wasn’t. “That mare, the girlfriend, did you… do you know her name?”
“She’s got a lot of aliases, apparently. But the one SuperStar knew her by was… Honey Quill.”
Dr. Peculiar swallowed. “Was another… Green Honey? O-or Honey Spill?”
“You know her too?” Phillip cocked his head.
The two ponies arrived at the trolley stop. There were four plastic benches arranged in a square; two business ponies, one male and one female, took up one, with the male with his head on the female’s shoulder, fast asleep. The others were empty. Next to the benches were two mares, one middle aged and one in her twenties, with a little filly sitting between them holding a blue balloon. The twenty-something mare seemed to be playing a counting game with the filly while the older mare looked on, smiling.
Dr. Peculiar sat down on the bench that was left, then looked up at Phillip. Phillip had seemed to have forgotten about their conversation and was letting his eyes wander over the passengers-to-be, but Dr. Peculiar was sure he was reading the scene.
“Answer my question. I’m still listening.”
“Honey…” Dr. Peculiar stared blankly at where the trolley would pull in. “She’s… been mentioned by more than a few of my patients.”
“Is one of them a forensic scientist?” Phillip asked. He was still watching the two mares.
“H-how…?”
“It was in Honey’s case file.” Phillip dug out his wallet and started rifling through the contents. 
“Yes, him and others. Usually boyfriends of hers…” Dr. Peculiar sucked in air. “I didn’t make the connection this time, though, because usually Honey sends a note.”
“What kind of note? Does she need credit or something?”
“No… a blackmail note. She’ll claim she has the cure, and that she’ll hand it over if the patients do things for them…” Dr. Peculiar shivered. “Once she even asked me to do something for her.”
“What?”
“Something. I don’t like thinking about it…”
“Sorry, be right back.” Phillip stood up and headed toward the spot where he’d been staring. The older mare was walking away with the filly by her side, and the twenty-something mare was waving goodbye. She turned and started for a park bench, only to gasp when she saw Phillip Finder blocking her path.
“He knows. Don’t go home.”
The mare stepped back, trembling. “W-who are you?”
“A concerned friend.” Phillip took one of her forehooves and pressed the bills in his forehoof into hers. “For your daughter.”
“Sh-she…”
“Isn’t your sister,” Phillip whispered. “And now Ashflake knows too. Don’t ask how we do, just promise me you’ll stay away from him for now.”
The mare curled the now-money-laden forehoof to her chest, looking like she was about to cry. Then she turned and chased after the older mare.
Phillip returned to his seat and continued to watch the two mares. The younger one was crying, and the older one seemed to be comforting her. “I’m still listening. Go on, Doctor.”
Dr. Peculiar blinked. “What the hay was that all about?”
Phillip turned back to face the doctor. “Nearly tripped over some drunken idiot earlier today; he was raging about how he’d learned his wife was a dirty whore and he was going to kill her and such. It’s just fortunate I ran into her before he did.”
“But how did you know she was the one?”
“Mister?”
The two stallions looked down to see the little filly with the blue balloon staring up at Phillip.
“Mommy says you’re an angel,” the filly said.
Phillip didn’t get a chance to react to that before the two mares swooped in.
“Lollilee!” The older mare said. “I’m so sorry, sir…”
“Don’t run away from your caretakers,” Phillip told the filly.
She nodded as she was being dragged away. “Okay, Mister Angel…”
Phillip stared after the little filly as she walked away, her eyes on him the whole time. He finally let out a small grunt and looked down at the sidewalk. “I’m not an angel,” he growled to himself.
“Why would you say that?” Dr. Peculiar asked.
The trolley car chose that moment to pull up. The business mare shook her partner awake, and the four ponies boarded. Phillip Finder and Dr. Peculiar had a relatively short ride, so they took spots near the front. The trolley car started down the street, swaying gently around corners.
Dr. Peculiar looked at his cutie mark; some pills and magic stars around a question mark. “I’m very blessed… to have a talent that lets me improvise cures for conditions never seen before.” He looked back up. “But that means that neither I nor my patients are sure what’s going to happen, or if things’ll work out… they’re scared, I’m scared…”
“Did anypony ever take Honey’s offer?”
Dr. Peculiar didn’t respond. He folded one forehoof across his body.
“You’re not responsible for what other ponies do,” Phillip said. “You did what you could—”
“That’s what they all say,” Dr. Peculiar said. “When patients come to me, suffering from magical ailments beyond the norm, it’s normally a freak, once in a century accident. And the patient, the families, and me, we can’t stop asking, why? Why do horrible things have to happen? And… there is no answer. We have to ask for the rest of our lives. I thought that was a cruel fact of nature.” Slowly, he breathed in, then sighed. “But here, I know why. And it’s that ponies are sick, twisted, heartless…” He was shaking.
“Well, this one mare is,” Phillip Finder said. “But I don’t think she’s a normal pony, doctor.”
Dr. Peculiar nodded numbly.
The trolley pulled to a stop, and the two stallions disembarked.
“My house is over there,” Dr. Peculiar said, stopping at a crossroads. “The apartments are over that way.”
“All right.” Phillip waved. “Hoo roo, Doctor.”
Dr. Peculiar waved and managed a smile at the odd phrase. Then he finished the last leg of his journey solo.
His house was on a corner with the door facing east and the mailbox facing south, which confused many mail carriers and door-to-door salesponies as to which street he lived on. Thick, crumbly stucco coated the walls, which was convenient for the busy bachelor since it never needed repainting. He jumped up the long low steps to his porch, levitated the house key out of his coat pocket, and unlocked the door.
He pushed the door open and ran up the stairs. “I’m home, D…”
He reached the end of the upstairs hall and turned into his dad’s bedroom.
There he froze, his heart thudding dully against the floor.
His dad’s room was a disaster. The hospital bed’s blankets were tumbled into a heap on the floor; books were thrown about, as were some loose pages; the bed stand was tipped over and his mom’s figurines lay on the carpet, some broken and one completely ground to pieces. The dresser drawer where all the medicine and other healing devices had been was gone completely, leaving an empty space. A single muddy track streaked across the floor, ending abruptly in the hall where the kidnapper had apparently started vacuuming.
Dr. Peculiar stumbled back against the wall, and once he hit, fell over on his side. His head was reeling. It must be—it couldn’t be—it was— it might—
Musical laughter shook him out of his daze, and he whipped his head around to see a gray pegasus mare gliding towards him. 
Dr. Peculiar choked and got to his hooves. “What have you done to him!?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing, sweetie.” The grey pegasus hovered near the ceiling, just out of reach. “I’ll take very good care of him; I just would rather he was with me than here.”
“You don’t know how to take care of him, you m-m-monster! It’s not just medicine; there’s food, a schedule, he, me, I…”
“You’re right. I don’t know where to start.” She didn’t seem bothered to admit this fact.
“Then what do you plan on—”
“How about coming with me?” The gray pegasus gave a smile that seemed too bright, yet somehow unironic. “You can show me how! Or even just do it yourself! I’ll provide whatever you need!”
Dr. Peculiar blinked. “What… why…”
“No catch. I’d like your dad to live, actually.” The pegasus flew over his head and started flying backwards down the stairs, gesturing for him to follow.
Dr. Peculiar took a few steps after, then paused. “Wait, are you… kidnapping me?”
“Nope! You’re coming with me of your own free will!”
“Not exactly free…” But it made more sense that someone would want to kidnap him. “Why do you need me?”
The pegasus crossed her forehooves, carefully resting the stick on her shoulder without letting the star touch her. “Pest control. Getting rid of invaders.”
Dr. Peculiar sat down. “You… you don’t mean Phillip, do you?”
“Oh, but I do! I totally do! But don’t worry; if he’s as awesome as you believe he is, he’ll survive just fine. I’ll even show you what I have planned for him. But do hurry; your dad didn’t get any dinner after all, and though I don’t speak horse, I think he was a little terrified…”
“He’s not speaking horse!” Dr. Peculiar snapped as he stood up. “That’s just how ponies sound when they don’t have any voice anymore…”
He followed the strange pegasus out the front door, then looked back over his shoulder. He wondered if he should have grabbed something—anything, he didn’t know—before he left. He wondered if he was coming home again. He felt and didn’t feel terrified; he knew nothing about where he was going or what would happen to him, but his kidnapper was making it sound like nothing bad was going to happen. He’d hated and feared Honey from afar, but in pony, she wasn’t intimidating.
Phillip was only a few blocks away…

***

With the dawn of the new morning, two couriers were sent out, each bearing an invitation to play a game.
Zugzwang was in the middle of entertaining a very special guest. The Ivory Tower balcony had a quaint little table spread for two, with a selection of dainty Prench pastries for a light breakfast. A vase with a half dozen white and dark pink lilies graced the center of the table, and his guest’s favorite tea blend was served.
Scarlet Letter, poet and leader of the Scarlets, giggled musically as she viewed the spread. “You know how to entertain a lady, Zugzwang.”
Zugzwang smiled and used one forehoof to gently escort her to the table. “The fairest deserve the finest, Madame Scarlet Letter. Und one must not discuss business on an empty stomach.”
“Indeed.” Scarlet Letter used her red telekinesis to select a bite sized eclair. She bit it in half elegantly.
“Before we discuss the contract terms, however, I must ask you for your signature.”
Scarlet narrowed her eyes, but her smile didn’t diminish. “You expect me to sign something I haven’t read yet?”
“Well,” Zugzwang said, levitating Scarlet’s latest novel out from under the table, “I certainly hope you’ve read this.”
Scarlet sighed with pleasure as she cradled the book in her own telekinesis. “This one was so temperamental. I had to rewrite the ending time and time again to get it just so, but I feel it was worth all the extra attention.”
Zugzwang nodded as he poured the tea. “My apologies that I couldn’t make it to your book signing, but staying one step ahead of Phillip Finder takes up much of my time.”
Scarlet’s smile turned to a scowl. “Let’s save this conversation for happy things only.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Zugzwang returned the teapot to the center of the table and levitated a teacup over to Scarlet.
A huge rock fell through the tea cup and broke it, splashing tea and glass shards on Scarlet’s pure white coat.
“Eeek!” Scarlet Letter cried, before regaining her composure and casting a cleaning spell. She glared up at the sky. “Who had the nerve--?”
“Curious.” Zugzwang took the rock in his golden telekinesis. A piece of tea-soaked paper was wrapped around it; he cast a cleaning spell to remove the liquid and held the paper closer. The symbols weren’t Equish.
“What is it?” Scarlet asked. “What did the ruffian want to say to me?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s for me, Madame. So sorry you were an accidental victim of this rather unusual courier.” Zugzwang carried the letter into his study behind the balcony doors. “A moment, if you please.”
He left the balcony doors open so Scarlet would not feel completely abandoned and sat down at his desk to decode the letter. It was a pretty good code, with two different symbols for the letter ‘e’ and no instances of the word ‘the’.  It was a source of amusement for a minute or two.
And then he started realizing what the message said, and started getting annoyed. But he resisted the temptation to assume the rest of the letter, and finished solving the last few symbols.
Once done, he levitated the letter into the air in front of him and read aloud for the benefit of Scarlet Letter, who was idly twirling a silver spoon while she waited.
“Zugzwang, I have something very precious to you. If you ever want to see her again, come alone to an old abandoned power plant you must know. You and I have a score to settle once and for all. Phillip Finder.”
“Well.” Scarlet set the spoon back in place. “Speak of the devil. To think we were just talking of Phillip, and now he sends you a letter. This is why we should have stuck to business.”
“I doubt Phillip actually sent this letter,” Zugzwang said grimly.
“Really?” Scarlet stood up and walked over to Zugzwang so she could read over his shoulder.
Zugzwang nodded. “In the first place, while I have sent many puzzles to Phillip Finder, he is not gracious enough to reciprocate. In the second, Phillip would not try a trick like this, because he knows it wouldn’t work. Thirdly, if he knew my location well enough that he could throw a rock at me, he wouldn’t be wasting time like this. Nein, Honey Words apparently wishes to fake her own kidnapping in the hopes of getting me to come to her alone.”
“Honey Words? Is that that silly puffball of a pegasus who tried to corner me after our last meeting and told me to stay away from you, because she had her own little heart set on wooing you?” Scarlet rolled her eyes. “How can you put up with such a silly girl?”
“True, she does flashy things for no purpose, und lacks discretion when it comes at the cost of theatrics.” Zugzwang filed the letter into a drawer. “She is, however, boundlessly resourceful, and completely devoted to me. It is because of her that I am able to be here; she joined Ray Industries for no reason except to become useful to me, and sent me letters offering me Ray Gun’s riches on a silver platter if I would let her be my assistant. She is too useful to lose over a small trifle such as this.” Zugzwang thoughtfully drew a fresh cigarette from his case. “I will oblige her. I will go where she wishes, but not alone. I fear nothing from her, for she has no desire to hurt me. Und I am curious where she thinks she is going with this.”
Scarlet stared wordlessly at the message for a moment. Then she stood up and headed back for the balcony doors, stopping just before crossing the threshold. “May I ask you something, Zugzwang?”
“Ja?” Zugzwang lit his cigarette.
“I have heard that grandmasters struggle to play chess with amateurs, because the amateurs do things that defy a grandmaster’s logic.”
Zugzwang twitched an ear in annoyance. “But zey do not win against us. Zey only are pesty as children.” He paused. “This was not supposed to be an analogy for my decision to meet with Honey Words, I hope?”
Scarlet ran a hoof through her silver-blond mane. “I have had business with this Honey in the past when she was in another city. She has made a small fortune by feigning love to many other stallions before you. Why do you believe you are an exception?”
Zugzwang drew some smoke from his cigarette before answering. “Because I have seen her flirt with others, and I have seen her flirt with me, and they are very different.” He took in more smoke, then blew out, watching the cloud thoughtfully. “Because I have seen her continue to pine for me, even when she had no way to know that I was watching. Even in a letter she attempts to counterfeit, she cannot resist referring to herself as ‘something precious’ to me, at risk of blowing her cover. Und most importantly, I picked up on her tells early on. I would not have one in my employ that I could neither trust nor control.”
Scarlet turned back to Zugzwang, her emerald eyes shining. “Promise me you will be careful, though? I would hate to lose such a good friend over something so small.”
Zugzwang smiled warmly. “I appreciate your concern, but do not think I will not control the situation fully. I am not such a fool as that.”

***

After waking up early and staying up late the day before, Phillip thought he deserved to sleep in until noon.
Fate was not generous to him.
“Finder!” Four hooves dug into his side.
Jarred awake, Phillip launched out of bed and slammed his attacker to the floor. The lemon-yellow mare looked moderately terrified.
“Who are you and what are you doing?” Phillip Finder demanded.
“D-don’t freak out,” she said.
Phillip then realized she was wearing a white nurse uniform, and he remembered where he’d seen her before. “Wait, you were helping Dr. Peculiar, right?” He stopped holding her down and stepped to the side.
She nodded. “But I had to find you; we need to hire you—”
“How did you get in?”
“I stole the other room key from the lobby.”
Phillip grumbled, “Next time, knock…”
“Dr. Peculiar is missing!”
The brown earth pony looked up sharply. “What? From where? What happened?”
Instead of answering, the lemon-colored mare pulled an envelope from her uniform pocket and handed it to Phillip. “When he didn’t show up to work, somepony went to his house… the place was ransacked, and the door was hanging open, and this was left on the doormat…”
Judging from the muddy hoofprint over half the envelope, they hadn’t noticed the clue right away. Metallic gold curlicues adorned the corners, and his name, Phillip Finder, was written on the front in fountain pen. Phillip ripped the envelope open and spat the dirty fragments into the trash can.
An exposed corner of the folded paper inside made him start. It was marble-textured paper with a fancy Z in the corner. Zugzwang’s own custom stationery.
He fished some tweezers from his vest that hung from a nearby chair and used them to extract the letter. Carefully, he unfolded it, smoothing out the crumpled edges, and read:
“Mein freund, I have a business proposal concerning herr doctor. Come to the ruins of my success and play a little hunting game, if you dare. Should you win, herr doctor and you may go home safely; should you lose, both shall die; and if you decline to play, half of Coastal City will look like Ray Tower at ten. I look forward to playing with you, Phillip Finder. ~Zugzwang”
Phillip stepped back and rubbed his forehead.
“Is it from your super villain?” The lemony nurse asked.
“First, don’t call him a super villain, and second, no.” Phillip said. “But somepony is stupid enough to try and make it look like he did.” He studied the letter carefully, not sure what it all meant. “Zugzwang never calls me freund, herr isn’t capitalized, doctor uses the Standard Equestrian spelling instead of the Gerwhin one… and ‘if you dare’? Really?” He looked at the corners of the paper. “And yet, it’s on his personal stationary. Not just anypony can get ahold of that.”
He reached for the nearby envelope; judging from the slightly longer tails on the letters, the writing was mouthwriting, which Zugzwang never used, although somepony had managed to make it in the same shape as his hornwriting. The envelope wasn’t Zugzwang’s either; the paper had been a slightly different size, and thus had had to be crumpled slightly to fit. “Somepony who works for him, and yet is dumb enough to think he’ll overlook somepony stealing his identity?”
“Can you find Dr. Peculiar?” The nurse walked around Phillip so she could look in his eyes.
Phillip unhooked his trilby from the bedpost and settled it on his head. “I’m on it. Go make sure his patients are okay.”
The nurse nodded gratefully and left the room.
Phillip got ready as fast as he could, wondering all the while what to expect. Was going really the best idea? Who was he dealing with?
He happened to glance at his boarded up window on the way out the door, and thought of Shocking Snap. Then he wondered if this was a disguised cry for help.
He felt inside his vest for his baton. Hope for the best; prepare for the worst…
The ruins of my success, Phillip Finder thought as he headed out of his hotel room. That’s what’s left of Ray Tower. Got to make it by ten…
It was already nine AM; the streets and public transport would be jam-packed, but surely the roof would be free. He fished his cloud charm out of his vest and put it around his neck, just in case; then he climbed up the stairs to the top floor of the inn and emerged onto roof access. Pegasi traffic was a bit heavy; a colored form darted across his vision frequently. There was no truly fast way to get around in big cities like these, but he’d do what he could. He dashed across the hotel roof and clambered up the outside of the fire escape on the taller building next door; then he pulled himself onto the flat, gravel-coated roof and kept going. Jumping over streets, dashing across roofs, weaving around chimneys, heading along the shore.
Eventually, he reached a cluster of wild clouds that weather pegasi were trying to herd together. Pausing just long enough to crouch, he sprung extra high and skidded into the fluffy cloud surface, the charm keeping his hooves from sinking farther than an inch. He used these to cover the remaining distance to Ray Tower.
“Look, over there in the sky,” he heard a weather pegasus say. “It’s a bird!”
“No, it’s a balloon.”
“No, it’s SuperStar!”
“…SuperStar isn’t brown…”
Phillip didn’t hear the rest of that conversation.
The ruins of Ray Tower rose into view: twisted heaps of gray and red metal , heaps of black ashes, scattered glass. Tyrant that he was, Ray Gun had developed magical mines that would go off when he was dead and had implanted them all throughout the building, allowing him to blackmail and hold hostage a large number of ponies. The survivors had already been extracted, but due to the mildly dangerous magical radiation in the area, clean-up had been put on hold.
Phillip checked his watch; 9:20. He wouldn’t suffer any bad effects if he was only in there for forty minutes. If he failed, another explosion would happen…
He jumped up and down on the cloud a bit to force it downward, then leapt onto a support structure that hadn’t fallen yet. Before climbing down, he scanned the ruins; nopony was obviously visible from above, so he looked for possible hiding places.
The biggest such place was a balloon hanger, so he dashed towards that. This had formerly been the center for shipping massive objects; it was on the edge of the blast and had barely been touched.
One of the huge sheet metal doors had bent upward, so Phillip slipped in; less than half the lights were still working, but he could see the huge empty building, many stories tall. To the edge were assorted piles of tools, ropes, shipping crates, and other equipment. He trotted towards them; the shadows were deeper there, so he pulled out a flashlight to hold in his teeth.
Then he saw it. In the back corner, glowing slightly, was a dark yellow unicorn.
Phillip Finder galloped over; the doctor was tied to a support beam, had a magic-blocking ring clamped around his horn, and had a thick black strap securing a quietly beeping box to his neck. His head was bowed and his hooves were folded near his mouth; it looked like he was praying.
“Doctor?” Phillip trotted closer.
Dr. Peculiar looked up, his teal eyes wet with tears. “You… you came…”
“Of course I did.”Phillip slid behind the support beam and started working on the ropes.
“Phillip, I…”
“Hey, Doc, positive is the one that’s always right, right?”
The nearby door to a stairwell opened, and a gray pegasus sauntered out. Her golden mane was bouncing against her neck.
She apparently hadn’t seen Phillip behind the beam. He stepped out and glared at her. “So we meet at last, Honey Quill.”
The gray pegasus froze, her wings snapping out at her side. “N-no, not yet, I’m not ready, you weren’t…”
“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” Phillip snarled, pulling his baton out and snapping it open with a sharp flick of his wrist.
Honey took flight, launching herself up toward the roof of the hanger. Phillip turned and ran up the stairs, arriving just in time to see Honey emerging from a hatch. She screamed and flapped frantically away from the building, but if he jumped he could still catch—
A loud bang like a firecracker made Phillip freeze; for a second, the fleeing gray pegasus looked like a light blue pegasus, flapping unevenly from a glass injured wing…
The slight hesitation was all Honey needed, and in a moment she was out of range. Stupid flashbacks, Phillip internally grumbled to himself.
But he’d better try to get the bomb off of Dr. Peculiar now; he could worry about catching Honey again later.
His trip back down the stairs was a little slower as he tried to bring his heart rate down. When he found Dr. Peculiar again, the unicorn now had his hooves folded into his coat.
“I… I couldn’t catch her, Doctor. Sorry.”
Dr.  Peculiar choked out a small sob. “I-I…”
“It’s not your fault.” Phillip sat down in front of Dr. Peculiar and reached around to unstrap the bomb. “I’ll just have to find her another—” A stab of pain made him gasp in shock, and he looked down to see a hypodermic needle jabbed into his back leg. A dark yellow hoof was holding it.
Phillip looked back at Dr. Peculiar; the unicorn was crying harder now. “Why?” Phil asked.
Dr. Peculiar just shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I wish… I had to… I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Phillip felt his vision fading, and he tumbled sideways to the ground, still hearing Dr. Peculiar’s voice.
“It’ll be fine, it needs to be fine, I looked at it and it’s fine, you… you’re strong, you’re so much better… you’ll be fine, you have to be fine, I don’t think—oh, as long you know… can you hear me? Please be fine… you need to know it’s complimentary, can you hear me? C-complimentary… please… I’m so sorry…”
Weird kind of compliment, Phil thought as the words faded from hearing.