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// -80- Pegasus Ponies and Propeller Planes 
// Story: The Anthropologist 
// by Weavers of Dreams 
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"Pretty cool right?" Monkey Wrench asked, opening the small metal crate that had been placed in a secluded corner of the cargo hold.

While Henry was fascinated, Lyra was tilting her head in confusion. "Uh? What are they?"

Inside the box were many large cylinders, glowing an exotic shimmering green, and each capped with golden disc. They rested upon a thick foam insolation and each were marked with the image of a lit candle. To top it off, a strange magical force was being emitted from them. The good anthropologist could feel it in her horn.

"Power cells," the pegasus answered. "They're an experimental source of power for the colony. So they can get rid of those ridiculous windmills they've been using(1)."

Lyra and Monkey shared a small laugh.

"Why are there only forty-nine?" Henry asked, drawing both adults gazes. They could hardly believe he, a child, had taken time to count them.

Lyra did some quick multiplication. The cylinders were placed seven-by-seven in the box. Yes, there were forty-nine. "Huh. Almost seems like one's missing. Doesn't it?"

Monkey, gave the colt an odd look. "What kind of colt sees something cool, and then decides to count them?"

"I like counting things," Henry answered shyly, not exactly comfortable being stared at. Lyra noticed this and drew the stallion's attention away.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "I would appreciate you not interrogating my son in the future, Mr. Wrench."

Monkey smiled weakly. "Sorry, ma'am. I've just never seen a colt that enjoyed math. Except in movies."

"I hate math," Henry piped up, indignant. "It's awful and boring, and I really hate it when get in trouble for not showing my work."

Lyra appeared miffed. "All this time and I've never known that about you. Why wouldn't you tell your own mother?"

The colt's ears drooped. "I... I didn't want you to think I was weird."

"Your a kid," Lyra pointed out, bemused, "you're supposed to be weird." She chuckled as she patted his head. "Tell me these things, kiddo. As a mother, I want to know everything about my little baby boy."

"I'm not little," Henry groused, waving her hoof off his head.

"Okay, so you're a big baby then," Lyra quipped faster than he could think. She bounced her brow as he pouted sourly. Both she and Monkey shared a small laugh at his expense.

"Can we go look at something else," the colt asked, feeling like getting some distance between himself and the box that had put him into a position of humiliation. He received a kiss on the nose for an answer.

"Sure," Lyra agreed, scooping him up onto her back. "How about the hanger next? That way you can look at the planes. Will that cure your sour attitude?"

The colt looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry, mom."

Lyra nuzzled his cheek warmly. "It's okay, Henry. You're not a baby. You're a bright young stallion who's silliness does my heart good."

"Well, if you want to see the planes just follow me," Monkey said as he quietly closed the lid of the box and locked it back up before throwing a tarp over it. "Just gotta make sure no one knows we were here. Remember, don't tell anyone. They really don't want anyone to know about it."

"Our lips are sealed," Lyra reassured him, making a gesture as though she were zipping her lips. Henry imitated this, much to her delight.

The hanger was a short distance from the cargo hold. Located on the ship's stern where it would be sheltered from the headwinds. As promised, there were plenty of planes, and Lyra was jovially having to chase after her colt as he rushed about to try and look at each and every one in turn.

"C'mon, a little slower, sweetie," the unicorn chuckled as she moved to intercept the rascal. Even if her magic had been up to par, she wouldn't have used it, as she was enjoying the chase too much to use a dues ex machina strategy like that.

"Awe, mom," Henry complained, "I just want to see them up close."

"I understand that," the mint mare said, "but you shouldn't be running around like that. You'll cause problems if you get underhoof. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

"M'kay," Henry conceded with a small sigh.

Laughing at the sight, Monkey trotted up to them. "It's alright, ma'am. Frankly, I'd be more worried if he wasn't so excited." He brushed past them and walked right up one of the planes. "C'mon, I'll give you both a tour."

"Are you sure we should be touching that thing?" Lyra asked skeptically, as she looked over the machine, a pusher configuration(2) propeller pane, with a bright yellow fuselage that sporting red and blue racing stripes on the wings. The name Your Mother was written on the side in bold black letters. "This looks like someone's taken really good care of it. I would hate to make them upset if they caught us messing with it."

"Nah, I won't mind at all," Monkey grinned as he climbed atop a wing, popped open the canopy, and dawned an aviator cap that had been attached the throttle.

"This is your plane?" Lyra asked in disbelief, eyes widening in shock. "Seriously?"

He frowned. "What? Is there something wrong that?"

"Yes," Lyra nodded. "One: You're a pegasus. And two: I'm not seeing any missing wings on you, pal. What's the excuse for needing an airplane?"

"There was no need at all," Monkey scoffed as he tightened the chin strap. "I simply wanted one, and then I worked hard to learn how to fly one, and then I bought one for myself." He gave her an impetuous smirk. "If life was all about the necessities, we'd still be in the stone age, ma'am."

He looked down at Henry from his perch on the wing. "So, how about you we cut the chitchat and you and your son hop on up here? There's a spare seat for a copilot. What do you say? Care for a few laps around ship?"

Lyra gasped. "Nooooo. Really? You're not just trying to hit on me again, are you?"

Deflating, the stallion groaned. "No, ma'am. I made a mistake once, and I'm not going to repeat it. Consider this my way of making up for it."

Lyra chuckled and nodded. "Well, when you put it that way... Why not? How about it, Henry? Want to fly in an airplane?"

Henry shook his head. "N-no, thank you."

Lyra knew about his fear of heights, but was determined to push him out of his comfort zone like a good mother should. "C'mon, Henry. We'll be enclosed inside the cockpit. It'll be perfectly safe."

The colt shook his head again. "I'd rather not."

"I'll hold onto you whole time," Lyra persisted, nuzzling him warmly. "I promise, your mother would never let you fall. You trust me, right?"

Yeah, it was a low tactic. Pulling that card on a little colt was just plain manipulative. But she felt in necessary.

Henry folding back his ears and nodded. "O-okay, mom. I... I do trust you."

Lyra hugged him tightly.

"You promise I won't fall?" her son asked in a quiet voice. Lyra chuckled and nodded.

"Of course I do, Henry. Mommy will never let you go."

Moments later they had taken their seats. Lyra got the chair whilst Henry got her lap with her hooves rapped snuggly about his barrel. She had even given him the copilot aviator cap that Monkey had offered them. It was a little too big for him, but it seemed to boost his courage some. Though he didn't know it, he was making her very proud.

Putting down his radio, Monkey turned around and gave them both a nod. "Alrighty. We just got cleared for takeoff. Are you both strapped in?" His two passengers nodded. "Alright, hang on, you're going to feel a little jolt."

He lied. There was a big jolt as his plane lurched forward. Lyra cried out and squeezed her son, who was gasping in terror. This only worsened when they reached the end of the ship's runway and dropped over the edge. Lyra was good to her promise, never letting go once. Henry, however, couldn't have cared less, as he was frozen in terror. A moment later, Monkey pulled up and leveled out the plane.

"Why would you do that?" Lyra finally managed to scream as she tried to keep her son from hyperventilating. "It's obvious he's scared of heights. That was completely unnecessary."

"Because, flying is like swimming ma'am," Monkey explained, dancing between apologetic and assertive. "It's better to jump right in then to slowly wade in."

"He can't swim either," Lyra scowled while she firmly patted the colt's cheek as he eased his breathing. While she feel like ordering him to turn the plane around and report him to the captain, she also wanted to see if she could get her colt to calm down and enjoy the ride. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but if my baby has any nightmares about this, I'll be coming for you."

"Duly noted, ma'am," the stallion nodded, beginning a gradually assent to be level with the airship's railing. "I promise to take the rest of it much slower, ma'am."

"You'd better," Lyra snapped. She turned back to Henry. "It's going to be okay, baby. He's just a big dumby, he didn't mean to frighten you." That made Monkey snort indignantly, but a low growl quickly shut him up. "Are you okay, Henry?"

Henry was shaking. At first, she thought he might be sobbing, then he burst out laughing, a great big smile on his face. He beamed up at her, his eyes sparkling behind the oversized goggles.

"I... I'm flying, mom," he gasped, breathing deeply. "I'm really flying. Aren't I?"

Stunned, Lyra sniffed, feeling a few tears threaten to escape. She nodded. "Yes, baby. You're really flying."

"I always thought it supposed to be scary," the colt went on to say. "Like it was just supposed to be falling with style, or something like that. But... but... but it's just not."

Lyra laughed aloud at his discombobulated wording. "That's right, Henry. It's not. Would you like to look out the window?"

"Canopy," Monkey corrected her, eliciting a snort from the mare.

"I'll show you a can of peas," she muttered as she hoisted the colt up just enough so that he could peer out over the wing. He gazed out over the horizon in wonder, eyes sparkling. Then he looked down and promptly pushed himself back into Lyra's lap, a nervous smile on his face.

"Too much too soon?" Lyra asked. He nodded. She patted his head. "It's okay, baby. We'll take it slow."

She emphasized the word "slow" so hard that it made Monkey flinch as though she had struck him. He made a mental note not to try this mare's patience again in the future. Probably already went too far as it was.


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(1) Fun fact: pegasi hate windmills. Nothing ruins a good flight like a forest of giant spinning blades.
(2) That means that the propeller is on the back, instead of the front of the plane.