Without television and electronic voting, without districts and gradual tallying, it didn’t really make much sense to have an election party. It also didn’t help that the only alcohol they had was distilled for medical purposes, and most of their food was flat and flavorless.
“I heard you took one alive today,” Jackie said, over a plate of greens and flatbread. “Didn’t think you could do that.”
The penthouse apartment had perhaps twenty ponies in it—all of Alex’s intimate friends. A few of them actually laughed, though the sound was subdued. Six of their own had died today, after all.
“He surrendered,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “They should do that more often. He’s still recovering from surgery, but… by tomorrow morning, we should be able to have a proper interrogation.”
She glanced across the table to Stride, gesturing. The deer hurried over, looking awkward. Stride didn’t understand parties, no matter how many times Alex had explained them. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing.” Alex switched languages. “Any change across the bay?”
She nodded. “They’re erecting a camp. Starting to cut down trees. Seems like they plan on staying.”
Jackie and Ezri sat together on a wooden bench to one side, watching without comprehension. Alex translated, and Jackie’s expression grew dark.
“You’re not leaving, Alex.”
“Huh?” She blinked, tilting her head to one side. “What are you talking about?”
Ezri rolled her eyes. “What do you do every time something bad happens? Run out alone. How many times have you died that way?”
Nancy sat suddenly upright, eyes widening. She had been resting just beside Alex during most of the conversation, half-asleep from the late hour. She no longer seemed mostly asleep, despite her youth. “That’s actually happened?”
Alex glared up at Ezri. “You don’t have to freak her out like that,” she said, before turning back to the filly and letting her expression soften. “Ezri is remembering another time. I’ve been hurt really bad before—that’s what she means. Don’t let it bother you, okay?”
“Okay,” Nancy repeated, though she didn’t look convinced.
Jackie grunted. “You don’t think she should know everything?”
“I wish I didn’t have to remember all the details,” Alex said. “We’ve got more important things to worry about, like…” The doors banged open at almost that exact moment, and a thin gray pony carrying a rolled sheet of paper climbed in.
All conversation stopped at that moment, everypony staring at the pegasus. It took him several moments to collect his breath enough to say anything. “The count is finished.” He offered the scroll in Alex’s direction. “Here.”
Ezri levitated it over, unrolling it in front of the two of them.
It had been surprisingly close. Lonely Day had taken the victory by less than fifty votes. An attack that same morning, and over four hundred people still voted for him? Were they insane?
It was hardly a positive result. A vote so close meant that a near majority wanted Lockwood for their president. It meant their settlement was precariously close to tearing itself apart.
Ponies around her started cheering, congratulating her, but Alex ignored them all. She cut across the room to the messenger, offering the scroll again. “Lockwood knows this as well?”
He nodded nervously. “Shouldn’t he? I thought…”
“No, you did the right thing.” She snapped around. “Tom, Jackie, Silvia, Ezri!” She drew her revolver nervously, spinning the cylinder, as though checking it for damage. It was in perfect working order, as ever.
All four of them hurried over. Only Tom showed any sign of comprehension—the others were still celebrating. “Hopefully nothing’s about to happen,” she began. “But it doesn’t seem likely. Jackie, Tom, I need you with me. We’re going to mobilize the minutemen. Hopefully we don’t need to prevent a riot.” She turned to the others. “Silvia, how’s that shield spell coming?”
The unicorn took a sip from her glass before answering. “Almost a hundred meters now. With a few more unicorns…”
“You won’t have a few more.” She gestured at the room. “You two are going to keep these ponies safe. Nopony comes into this room until morning.” Her eyes wandered to Mary, then Nancy in turn. “Hopefully you just get to enjoy the party some more. But we won’t be taking any risks.”
Ezri nodded gravely. “With my life, Mom.” At least Jackie and Ezri shared the penthouse with her—that meant their armor and weapons were already up here.
Alex met Tom’s eyes next. “Arm the minutemen with nonlethal weapons. Protect the armory and the storehouse.” Those areas were already guarded, as they always were. But if a huge mob formed, a handful of guards on each would be far from enough.
“Understood.” He turned and ran for the stairs without another word. Alex went for a window instead, fighting with the ancient mechanisms until she wedged it open.
By the time she had, Jackie was already in her jumpsuit, expression much darker. “You really think we’ll have to…” She trailed off.
The window overlooked the central courtyard, which gave them a decent view of most areas of interest in the colony. A crowd was already forming on the far side—the most recent building cleaned and stabilized for habitation. At least a hundred of them, maybe more, many carrying torches or dragging tools. “I’d say 100%.” Distant shouting at their lead—Lockwood, she guessed.
“Do you want me to kill him?”
“No!” She glowered. “That’s not how democracy works. We just need to… to remind them.”
“I’m not letting them kill you,” Jackie said. “Last time that happened, the whole world went to shit. Never again.”
Alex glanced over her shoulder at the worried ponies, one last time. Terrified eyes. “I won’t let this be the end of our democracy,” she said, before slipping over the edge and letting herself fall from the window. She caught herself on the night wind, feeling the darkness all around her. Shadows warped at her will, concealing her as she glided out over the clearing. She passed over the storage cellar, with its winter stockpile. The survival of this settlement depended on its protection. As she flew, alarm bells started ringing, guards rushing from barracks and dragging their weary companions along.
She passed over the mob, keeping enough distance between herself and the flames, but not so much that her sensitive ears wouldn’t be able to make out Lockwood’s yells.
“Let them make themselves slaves!” he was shouting. “We’ll take what’s ours, and start our own city! Without a monster lording over us.”
Archive didn’t prove them right by appearing right in front of him. Her worst fears confirmed, she wheeled around and headed back for the locked storage basement, where already her guards were looking afraid. After all, there were only fifty soldiers anywhere close to trained, and six of them had died that morning.
Thanks to the fields and the sheds, there would be no direct line of sight to her as she appeared only a few feet from the storage shed. There were three guards outside—two with crossbows, and one with a spear. All three had aluminum armor on their bodies.
“P-president?” one of them asked, blinking in confusion as she stepped out into his perception, and the shadows wrapping around her no longer kept her hidden. “What are you—”
The sound of the distant mob crossing the field hadn’t resolved into proper words yet, though the shouting and flickering firelight were very obvious, even at this distance. “We’re about to be attacked,” she said, not drawing her weapon. “Our own ponies. Corporal Wagner went for reinforcements, but he won’t be here in time. We’ll have to hold out alone until he can get here.”
“Uh…” The three of them shared a look. “Who’s attacking?”
“Lockwood,” she muttered, anger unrestrained. “He just found out he lost the election, and he’s got together a mob of his strongest supporters.” She extended one hoof to the guard with the spear. “Give me your weapon.”
Jackie hadn’t reappeared—probably she wouldn’t unless she had to. Her first strike would be as unseen as it was deadly, more than likely. Alex could only hope she didn’t kill anypony. If she did that, it would prove everything Lockwood had said in the eyes of his supporters. The mob would turn into a riot for sure, and more ponies would die.
Alex caught the offered spear and traced a semicircle in the dirt in front of the storage area. “All three of you, get behind this and don’t cross it for any reason. Don’t step on my lines.” She drew very quickly—this spell was the first one almost every unicorn learned, after all. She was just tweaking the intensity, shifting a few variables… and it was done. She tossed the spear back to its owner, turning to one of the crossbow-wielding unicorns. “You, uh… Ralph. Put your horn right here.” She stepped onto the other side, then raised a hoof to prevent the others from following her. “No, you guys are on that side.”
Ralph touched his horn to the indicated place, and immediately the spell came to life. It looked like a shield, one of the most powerful Alex had ever conjured. It was bright and domed over the heads of the ponies within, so vibrantly green it was almost opaque.
Her words didn’t distort in the least as they would’ve with an ordinary shield. “You three. Look as menacing as you can, brave. Don’t say anything once they get here, not a word.”
“I can still hear you,” Ralph pointed out.
“Yes,” she whispered, harsh. “Because shield runes can’t just be written in dirt. The energy requirements are too high. This is just a light spell.”
“Oh.”
Alex went back to tracing runes—not actually connected with her light spell. Not actually a real spell, either. She chose unicorn words at random and laced them together in the scariest-looking combinations she could, before sitting down on her haunches at the very center and leaning on the spear.
It was a good weapon—a shaft of sturdy wood, with a steel tip. About four feet long, with a special cross brace on one side so that it could be held with a leg instead of a hand.
“I hope you’re watching, Jackie,” she muttered, very quietly. “Make sure my spell works, will you?”
There was no reply. A few seconds later and the mob rounded the orchard with its earth-pony-grown fruit trees, and saw her work. Lockwood shouted, his voice carrying through the night. “See for yourselves, exactly as I said! The tyrant will not permit you to take the labor of your own hands!”
It was a good thing Jackie wasn’t visible to be pedantic and point out none of them had those. Probably wouldn’t have helped diffuse the situation.
As it was the crowd roared with anger, shaking their tools and torches and speeding closer to her.
Alex didn’t need to be a unicorn to be heard. Like her or hate her, these ponies were part of her civilization now, one based as closely on humanity as any pony civilization could be. She gathered up every one of those little threads as Sunset had once taught her, and yanked.
The crowd came to a confused halt, every one of them finding their attention drawn to her unwillingly. Even Lockwood was compelled by the magic, the breath momentarily torn from his lungs.
Archive did not waste the opportunity. “Be careful, citizens! The storage area has been protected with a dangerous spell. I’m here to prevent an accident.”
“Protect us?” Her pulling had the desired impact. The crowd bunched up around her, circling the storage area but not getting within ten paces of the shield. Only Lockwood dared to get closer to her, yet even he kept his hooves well clear of the runes.
“Yes,” she said, as matter-of-factly as she could. It was time to channel her daughter. “This isn’t just a shield—this one will kill anypony who crosses it. I would not want anyone to be harmed accidentally.”
For all he had called her a liar before, Lockwood hesitated now, looking between the intricate markings on the ground and the glowing barrier. His eyes narrowed. “We came for our fair share of the stockpile,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence of the night. “We’re taking it, and we’re leaving.”
“No, you aren’t,” she said. “Remember the constitution you read when you joined. Remember how each of you signed and agreed to live by it, when you moved here?”
“There’s nothing in the constitution about keeping us as slaves,” he said, raising his voice a little. Shouts of approval echoed from behind him, and a few ponies shook their weapons vaguely in her direction.
“There isn’t.” She rose to her hooves, careful not to step on any of the lines of her spell. Of course, it wouldn’t do anything if she did… but after the basic training they had provided, everypony in that crowd ought to know the mechanics of runes enough to know that they should not be disturbed.
“But the constitution is quite clear that all stockpiled resources are communal until private ownership is formalized. You may all leave if you wish, but you can’t take the resources we’ve been saving. That food is meant to get everyone through the winter, and seed the crops of a new year. If you wish to leave, you’ll leave without it.”
She raised her voice, calling on her magic again. She couldn’t keep using it—these ponies would get callous to its effects quickly. Even so, while she held her connections, they would be compelled to listen. Many of them would probably feel instinctive trust in her promises. Even when those promises were threats.
“I know many of you are upset—Lockwood promised you things you desperately wanted. But lashing out because you’ve lost isn’t the answer, not now. Our situation is already desperate—did any of you see the bodies of your brothers and sisters we carried in this morning? Six of us died to keep you safe today. Who will keep you safe when the army comes to find their missing troops?”
She flicked her tail back at the shield. In the distance, she could make out charging hoofsteps. Tom and the minutemen were finally on their way, and getting close. She wasn’t surprised he had chosen to reinforce the armory first. Food would be devastating to lose, but it was quite difficult to kill soldiers with wheatberries.
“The New York settlement is protected by powerful spells. I have many years of practice with magic: magic to keep our water from making us sick; magic to let crops grow out of season; magic to heal the wounded. I can see a few of you have mastered levitation. Maybe a few more can fly. Will flying and levitation keep you warm when it starts to snow, or light your homes at night?”
The crowd shifted uneasily, some of its momentum deflating. Many eyes fell on Lockwood, waiting for his response.
“We know everything we need!” he insisted. “We have copies of all the magic the settlement is using. We can reproduce all of it for ourselves—the president here can’t even do any of it herself. She steals the strength of others to do it, like everything else she does!”
It wasn’t hard to speak over him. “I’ve stolen nothing, Lockwood. Every one of you chose to come here! You could have all the freedom you want on the other side of our walls, but you came here. You came here because working together makes us stronger.
“We need all your strength for the next few months. Winter is going to be incredibly hard. The magic you’re learning now will help keep everyone alive. If you leave now…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Listen—I’ve already promised I won’t ever run again. I can sign a document to that effect, with Lockwood to witness. In four years, we really will be safe. You can all vote for him again, and he can be president. Is four years so long when you have hundreds more to live?”
Again there was silence. This time even Lockwood seemed to be considering her words. Murmurs passed through the crowd, and lots of the torches seemed to droop.
Eventually, Lockwood straightened. “What you’re doing is wrong, Alex. It’s wrong of you to force ponies to work the way you do. It’s wrong of you to force them to swear to follow your rules to eat the food they grow.”
She nodded. “It’s wrong of us to be thrown into this city to die by primitives. It’s wrong of our fellow prisoners to steal and murder and rape. It’s all wrong. What we’re doing now, as hard as it is, puts us on the path to recovering as quickly as possible. Maybe in time that we can survive the invasion when it comes.”
Tom rushed in, breaking past the shield with his soldiers all moving in formation. They had nonlethal weapons—clubs, mostly. Training swords made from wood. Alex moved forward, so that the soldiers could rush between the mob and the stockpile and she could still talk to the ponies assembled.
“I don’t want to leave anymore,” someone shouted, from the back of the crowd. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I still remember what it’s like to live on the street.”
“Yeah!” someone else agreed. “If we can’t get the supplies… we’d never make it.”
“We could wait until spring, couldn’t we? It would be easier to start a new colony when it isn’t about to get cold.”
The crowd began to disperse. Ponies left, taking their weapons and torches with them. In the end, only a handful remained, the group of the sturdiest, most obstinate of Lockwood’s supporters. All of them had farm implements instead of torches.
“This isn’t over, Alex,” Lockwood hissed, only a few feet away from her. “This is war.”
“Careful.” One of her hooves migrated to the holster, though she didn’t draw her handgun. “The law will be enforced, Mr. Lockwood. If you do anything to weaken us during wartime, I’ll have you out on your ass.”
The half dozen burly-looking ponies edged in around them. Tom’s own men advanced at the exact same moment, so they couldn’t surround her.
“Are you threatening me?” he asked, his voice so quiet that only she could hear.
“I’m reminding you of the laws you agreed to follow when you moved in,” she said. “We are at war now, Mr. Lockwood. There are twenty thousand soldiers camped just across the bay. One of their scouting parties attacked us today.”
He grunted. A few of his ponies closed in around her even closer. “What do you think will happen if a riot starts? You think those cronies of yours will get you out before something bad happens?”
“I think…” She kept her voice just as low. “I think you haven’t heard about the battle this morning. Our soldiers are better trained than your friends, and six of them died.”
“I heard.” He leered at her. “Don’t see what difference it would make right here.”
“That battle ended two minutes after I arrived. Do I look hurt to you, Mr. Lockwood?”
The stallion met her eyes for another dangerous moment, before turning away, disgust on his face. “We’re done, lads. For now.” They left.
* * *
The next day dawned uneventfully. There were no more riots, no ponies dead in the streets. Despite his threats, Lockwood and his ponies went to their regular work as on any other day. The settlement had been saved.
Alex gave her acceptance speech that afternoon after lunch, to a crowd of unenthusiastic ponies. It was hard to get excited when they’d had to bury the corpses of their friends only a few hours earlier.
By evening they had gathered all the tactically important ponies in the village, enough that Alex felt confident in conducting the interview. Lloyd Meyer was waiting for them in the hospital.
Even after the healing spell had been performed, they had taken precautions. Four guards waited beside him at all times, all earth ponies. Between that and the bindings holding him to the bed, Alex wasn’t that worried. She would have liked to do something more impressive with magic, but time and resources had been tight.
Lloyd didn’t look like he had struggled much. The pony looked much healthier than the day before—some of the color was back in his face, and his eyes no longer seemed glazed. His whole leg was immobilized in a sturdy cast—Ezri’s changeling slime wasn’t as light as plaster, but light didn’t matter much when they didn’t want the pony to move anyway. “I was wondering when you would come.”
Alex gestured for the medical staff to draw the curtains separating them from the rest of the hospital. She had brought five ponies in all—Tom for the army, Mary from supply, an earth pony named Rudolph for the farmers, a blacksmith pegasus named Carson, and Jackie for her knowledge of the outside world. Only Jackie was armed—she hadn't taken her armor off since the night before.
“Who are all these?” the prisoner asked, groaning a little. “Does your spell need recharging?”
“No.” Alex was the only one who didn’t bother with a chair. She walked up beside the bed and sat down on her haunches, gesturing to the guards. “Ponies, wait outside the hospital. You’re on break.” They left without a word—no salute either.
Only then did she look back. “Dr. Mercer tells me the spell was successful.”
“A wonder,” the prisoner agreed, and the awe sounded real. “I broke a femur once—off a swing, in another life. My knee already feels better than my leg did after weeks of healing.”
She nodded. “What we did wasn’t some ancient mystery, as you seemed to suggest. There was a time when all people everywhere had access to healing magic when they needed it. Sometimes a spell is the better tool—sometimes an antibiotic. We used to be able to choose both.”
“I don’t know how you would know that,” Lloyd grunted. “I have great-grandchildren older than you.”
“Hey!” Tom grinned. “I said that. You told him to say that, didn’t you Alex?”
“Are we here to get answers, or is this some sort of joke?” The pegasus flicked his wings impatiently. The tips were singed, some of the wax melted from a few of the feathers. It didn’t seem to bother him. “My apprentice is casting another batch of pots, and I don’t want them to shatter like the last ones did. If I’m not needed here…”
Alex extended a wing gently toward him, stopping Carson before he could make it to the curtain. “The whole assembly needs to be here for this, Carson. The people you represent are going to be wanting answers, and it will be your job to give them. We must understand the obstacles if we are to overcome them.”
The pegasus grunted, then walked back to his chair. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He sat down, folding his forelegs across his chest impatiently.
Alex turned back to the prisoner. “You know the deal, Lloyd. Do you intend to cooperate?”
He nodded. “Coming back after a defeat like mine… I’m dead anyway.”
“Very well.” She cleared her throat.
Mary was already settled behind a writing desk by then, and took the quill into her mouth. One of Nancy’s feathers, sharpened into a pen. “Ready Alex.”
Alex: Were you sent by the army camping across the river from New York?
Lloyd: Yes.
Alex: What was the purpose of your mission?
Lloyd: To locate a missing servant of the king, Damocles. If something had happened to him, to take possession of his force and punish his murderers.
Alex: Then why would you need an army?
Lloyd: The last message we received from Damocles indicated somepony new was trying to build in the city. It said they’d already gathered more ponies than any previous attempt. We assumed that if Damocles had been killed, that must be the cause. I guess we weren’t wrong.
Alex: No, you weren’t.
Tom: What will the army do now that you haven’t returned?
Lloyd: I don’t know. I was never a soldier. I don’t know tactics.
Alex: Guess, speculate.
Lloyd: If my first scouting party didn’t return, I would send flyers to get a look at things from the air. Whatever took my first group might take another.
Alex: Continue your speculation for a moment. Your pegasus ponies fly over the city, and we don’t notice them. They see the gate is still guarded by troops in different armor and uniforms than yours. Maybe they even see us digging the grave. What do they do then?
Lloyd: I don’t believe they will attack right away. The army could not cross into the Nameless City.
Tom: Why not?
Lloyd: Currents are far too fast, and the water is too deep. Many soldiers can’t swim, and even those who can would be hard-pressed to cross so far wearing steel armor and carrying supplies.
Alex: How soon could they attack?
Lloyd: The Bloodgate requires many sacrifices. We brought animals to fuel our trip here—we had intended to return by boat. There are not enough to send more than a few more scouts into the city—my brothers will not waste the blood. They will conserve it, in order to send messages to the king.
Alex: That isn’t an answer. Where could we be attacked?
Lloyd: I don’t know anything about the military. I already told you.
Alex: But you must have spoken to the generals. You must know something from travelling all this way with an army. How would they get onto the island if they can’t swim?
Lloyd: We did… there was a plan. A contingency for the worst possible scenario. Maybe they have already reached it, or maybe they will after you kill another scouting party.
Alex: I will only kill another scouting party if they attack my ponies again.
Lloyd: Yes.
Alex: So what was the plan?
Lloyd: I shouldn’t say.
Tom: You will answer the president’s question.
Lloyd: You can’t frighten me, outcast. My order has far greater magics than yours. The price of disobedience is… extreme.
Alex: Please explain this contingency. I already threatened you once, Lloyd. I don’t want to do it again.
Lloyd: (after a moment) They planned to wait until spring. It is well known that outcasts do not understand magic, and rarely know useful skills. We expected most of you to starve during the cold season, as you do every year.
Alex: Will seeing us with our own settlement change their minds?
Lloyd: Talking to me would. Seeing you from the air… I don’t think so. From what I saw of your fields on the way in, they did not look impressive. Most of your trees were too young to bear fruit, and your wheat looked like it was struggling to grow in the cold.
Carson: But we make our own metal tools! See this? (Carson holds up a set of metal tongs) This is stainless steel! You primitives couldn’t make it if you tried!
Lloyd: Neither could you. You found that in the ruins. Anything ‘advanced’ about you would probably be explained that way—either tools you had stolen from Damocles when you killed him, or artifacts recovered from the city itself.
Tom: So you intended to wait until spring. What then?
Lloyd: During the winter the ponies would be building barges. When the thaw finally came, we would sail those barges to the Nameless City. And… and kill every pony we found. Install a new jailer, and start over.
Rudolph: You people are monsters. I always thought… the way you send people here… it seemed callous, but maybe it could be explained. Just murdering them… helpless, innocent people…
Lloyd: We are all monsters. King Obrican does what he believes is right. His subjects trust his rule, myself included.
Alex: You haven’t lied to me until now. Are you sure you trust him?
Carson: How can you know that, President? Didn’t you say he was a priest? Priests are always the best liars.
Alex: I’m positive.
Lloyd: I trust him. King Obrican is going to win—there are twenty thousand spears waiting to cross the river and flood into your city. They won’t come until you’re starved and weak from a tough winter. All your lost knowledge will be destroyed, and I will die too.
Alex: That will not happen.
Tom: Twenty thousand, Alex…
Alex: It won’t happen. Lloyd, is there any chance the king might send more?
Lloyd: More than an army? Not until word got back to him. Outcasts are considered inferior for religious reasons. Blind, deaf and dumb. The possibility of you winning would not have been considered. Otherwise, he might have sent an army five times as large.
Tom: Unlikely. Any primitive king would have a hard time keeping such a large force supplied.
Lloyd: You are ignorant, outcast. You understand neither our methods nor our tools. Don’t take the success of your leader to mean you are invincible.
Alex: Tom is a student of military history, Lloyd. He makes valid points, but… I think they’re irrelevant. I think that’s enough for now. I will return again tomorrow. We have already learned a great deal from the captured armor and weapons… but I will want to know more detailed information about your military capabilities. Tomorrow, after you have a chance to rest.
Lloyd: As you say, ‘President.’
Alex: (approaches the prisoner, and says something unintelligible)
Lloyd: (appears visibly disturbed) You can’t.
Their meeting reconvened in the city conference room ten minutes later. The large space had rough furniture, as rough as anything else they had made with their own hooves. Alex had contributed only the detailed map of the city, which she had sketched onto the surface of the wood for some unicorn to carve. It centered on the settlement, though it extended for twenty blocks or so in every direction—past the most extreme edges of their fields, past the Bloodgate and every part of the island they had intended to expand into.
There were no chairs in here, and so the ponies huddled around the table and sat. No one looked happy, and for a long time no one spoke.
Rudolph was the first to break the silence, glancing across the table at Jackie. “Outsider, do you think there might be room for… about a thousand people… wherever you came from?”
The bat yawned and stretched in reply, shaking her head. “We didn’t come from anywhere. My wife and I were hiding in the same kingdom you’re fighting.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Mrs. Jackie… but the kingdom we’re fighting didn’t make your armor. Couldn’t we live with them? Wouldn’t they want to help us?”
Jackie laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I’d ask, but they all went to fucking space, so…” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think they’re going to come to our rescue.”
“They won’t,” Alex agreed. “We’ll have to do this on our own.”
“Then we’re dead,” Carson muttered, eyes downcast. “There’s nothing we can do to fight odds like that, Alex. Even if we weren’t coming apart at the seams… we can’t make enough armor for everyone.”
“Armor isn’t the issue,” Tom whispered. “If we trained every able man and woman we didn’t need to keep everyone else fed and clothed, maybe we’d have four hundred. They’d be outnumbered fifty to one. This isn’t a war we can win.”
“It gets worse.” Alex spoke evenly, without the despair the others were barely restraining. “I’m not certain how many ponies there are in this city—but my magic lets me guess. There are at least twice as many refugees still out in the city as live with us… and that number might be much higher.” She raised a hoof, cutting Rudolph off. “No, it isn’t a good thing. These aren’t going to be trained soldiers—they’re going to be starving, helpless ponies.
“Our enemy’s strategy gives us time, but it also gives us an enemy we can’t just fight. The ponies who weren’t driven here when we won against Damocles… the ponies who didn’t come when we started planting fields and scavenging from anywhere we wanted… those ponies will all come once there is nothing for them to eat and they can’t find warmth in empty buildings.
“I’m guessing all of them who know about us will come to our gates eventually, starving and too weak to work. The stockpile we’ve been keeping will be nowhere near enough. If we don’t do something about it, we’ll starve long before the army comes.”
She did not voice the other, even more distasteful option. A few moments passed, and no one else did.
“So we’re doomed,” Mary muttered. “We die either way.”
Alex stared down at the map for a long time, letting her eyes lose focus. She tried to see the city, with its thousands of hungry ponies. As it was, the population outside their settlement relied on grazing. Once that option was gone…
Then she smiled. “I know what we’ll do. About… about the food problem.”
“Don’t leave us in suspense,” Jackie grumbled. “You just remembered some secret Equestrian spell, didn’t you? Sunset Shimmer taught you some secret way to make food out of rocks.”
“No.” Alex grinned. “We’ll just skip winter.” She raised a hoof, gesturing. “Mom, pass me some of that paper. I have to draft up a weather schedule.”
Jackie crowded in close as Mary passed her a few sheets, the only one who wasn’t stunned into confusion. Her voice was low, but not so low that the others wouldn’t be able to hear. “Alex, you know how big this island is, right? You have, what, fifty ponies who can fly?”
“More than enough.” Alex started writing rapidly, scribbling her schedule. “Equestrian weather code specifies an absolute minimum of one trained pony per square mile. We don’t even need to go that far.” She gestured to the map, drawing a circle in the air above the settlement with one hoof. “Four square miles, that’s all. Just divert some of the heat rising up from the gulf… bust a few clouds… and winter never comes.”
Tom was the first of her colonists to speak. “Alex—I know you said the ponies with wings could change the weather. I’m still not convinced… I’m not convinced a change on this scale is possible.”
“Even if it is,” Rudolph began. “Won’t there be consequences? Plants and animals aren’t used to shifts in the climate like that.”
She nodded. “There will be serious consequences. But there is one group of plants I can guarantee will not die: ours. Earth pony magic will keep them strong and healthy, regardless of the sudden shift. Equestria’s whole ecosystem… or at least the parts I saw… depended on magic.”
“I don’t like the idea of making the planet dependent on us,” Tom said. “That’s been one of the few things keeping humans alive as long as we have. Even when we screw up, the world keeps on spinning.”
“It won’t be permanent,” she said. “But do any of you have any better ideas? Please, if you have a suggestion, I’ll take it.”
“You want us to use a kind of magic none of us know… to change the climate on this whole island,” Carson said. “Suppose we do it. As insane as it sounds. Spring comes on the outside, and our friends invade. They have… fifty soldiers to each of ours. Can you fight all of them, the way you fought Damocles?”
There was silence again. Archive could practically feel their hope fading. She couldn’t let that happen.
“I… I don’t know what we’ll do about the army yet.” She straightened, putting the pen down. “But I will find a way. It’s never mattered that something seemed impossible before, has it?” She looked to Tom. “I promised I would help you all bring civilization back. Haven’t I?”
Tom nodded.
“Rudolph. I promised you that you’d never have to watch another pony starve. You didn’t believe me when I said so, did you?”
“Well no, but—”
Archive glanced briefly towards the end of the table, where her mother sat. She looked away quickly, wiping away the tears before they could form.
“Give me time to find an answer,” she pled. “Don’t give up hoping.” She tapped on the model in front of them with one hoof. “I need time to think. There are many spells… many technologies we might try. I’ll have a better idea of what we can do once I speak with our prisoner again, about their methods of war.
“But none of that matters if we can’t survive winter.” She looked across the table at them all. “Flying classes are mandatory for every pegasus from now on. Mom, please see that every available pegasus is transferred out of whatever morning duties they had. Also, cancel every salvage crew. From now on, we’re going to be using our spare labor to clear out and reinforce new buildings. Let’s plan on space for… five thousand more, just to be safe.”
She turned slightly. “Rudolph, forget everything I told you about preparing the crops for winter. Plow the clover under, we’ll do a turn of corn and potatoes instead. Mary will get you the stock for planting from our stores. I’ll get you another… hundred ponies from the labor pool for clearing new fields. Go as far outside the fences as you need to. Forget stockpiling firewood—burn the land clear if you have to.”
She could feel it—confidence filling the room again. Trust, and the strength to keep going. It smelled delicious to her. “Carson. We need farming implements for another five hundred ponies. Training weapons too. Everyone you have on winter clothes can be doing something more productive.”
“Tom.” She turned. “Just keep training your ponies. Be thinking about what it would take to turn your whole command structure into a training organization. You might be getting a lot of new recruits.”
“This isn’t the first time Alex here has helped ponies in need overcome crazy situations,” Jackie said. “When I was still… a long time ago, she took on a whole army of miners to help out the refugees they were enslaving. If she says she can do it, she can do it.” Jackie lowered her voice to a whisper. “Somehow.”
“I don’t think we have that many choices,” Tom eventually said. “It’s either try this plan, or… or try to get off the island and survive the winter without supplies. With an army out there… I’m guessing we wouldn’t be able to escape. They’d hunt us down and…”
“Unfortunately,” Alex said. “Lloyd said that the army was here to kill everyone. They aren’t going let the ones they came to hunt run away and disperse into the woods. We either fight, or we die. Simple as that.”
“We fight,” Tom said. “We know things they don’t. We’re fighting for our lives, our wives and children, and they’re only fighting for glory. This will be a decisive advantage. Not enough to win by itself, but…”
Rudolph looked between them, his expression darkening. “Going to be a hell of a year.”
So time passed. Whatever discontent there had been in the settlement appeared settled, or at the very least pushed far enough to the sidelines that there weren’t any more riots. Lloyd’s promised pegasus scouts arrived a week or so after the election—and Jackie made sure they wouldn’t be reporting back on what they had seen. Alex didn’t know how the thestral had managed to kill all four with a dagger, and she hadn’t asked.
They outfitted the area just around the portal with fortifications—but not the kind that would be lethal to a refugee who happened to stumble through.
Most importantly, every pair of wings was devoted to the monumental task of creating a bubble of spring in the beginning of winter. Alex could fly alongside the weather team, giving frequent instruction to the ponies upon whom their lives now depended, but she could not help them. She didn’t just have different wings—she didn’t have any weather magic of her own.
Alex didn’t know what would’ve happened to her settlement if she had failed, because she didn’t. By the time what she took for December was upon them, the rivers were ice and the streets were buried in snow, except for a few miles around the settlement.
Magic flowed like water—fruit trees grew strong and bore fruit, crops swelled rapidly for harvest, and the cellars overflowed with good things.
Another of Alex’s predictions came true too: hunger brought more and more refugees to their doors, so much so that they built a dedicated office specifically for swearing in new citizens.
Not a day was wasted—every pony able and willing was given armor and weapons and the best training they had. Craftsponies of all kinds improved their abilities, and where once they had been forced to go naked and power the mill with muscles, by December they had looms and a water-wheel to keep grain processing.
The population doubled, and with it so did the magic at their disposal. Those resentful at the changes they had brought six months ago were very easy to pacify when they could offer a part of the city where snow never fell and there was always food to eat.
A few things got names—the settlement, long called simply “New York,” was finally given the proper name “Estel” to help ponies tell it apart from the wider area of Manhattan Island in general.
Life was good. For awhile.