//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Friday // Story: The Night Princess and the Day Off // by Crossed Quills //------------------------------// In Gryphonstan, Paper Weight had heard, Friday was a part of the weekend. In Yakyakistan, sufficiently nice weather occurred rarely enough that the nation’s legislators would declare sunny days to be civic holidays. In Prance, a province of Equestria for Ancestors’ sake, the two hour lunch was considered a tragically short necessity. And yet... And yet none of these people, be they gryphons, yaks, or eccentrically accented ponies, seemed to work as hard at taking time off as Luna did. True, they weren’t doing it to prove a point, and they weren’t doing it to serve some vital purpose. They were doing it to spend time with their families and loved ones, and because they found relaxation and enjoyment of their leisure time to be a worthy priority. Luna, if anything, seemed more wound up after three days of ‘days off’ than she had before she had begun this endeavour. If the alicorn mare had been a pocket watch, she would have been two winds short of gears and springs exploding out the back of her, under enough torque to cause the sun to rise in the west for a change. As a loyal vassal, dutiful employee, and friend, Paper Weight did her best not to criticize her Princess’ plans. The ways of alicorns were generally inscrutable anyway, and fairly frequently, acts or decisions that seemed aberrant or strange had some deep-seated mystically significant meaning. So when she nervously thought that the most recent arrangement seemed ‘unwise’, the social secretary did so silently, handling the term as would a dowager duchess picking up after an overly pampered pooch during walkies. Her job, when it did not entail social counselling or being a camp follower for one of Luna’s oddball crusades, was to handle the Night Princess’ schedule and appointments. So, she thought to herself, this more or less fit. Luna had descended to the royal dungeons, unused these past several centuries excepting as a tourist attraction, and had cleared out the tourist bricabrac. Then, floating in a bit of furniture with her powerful telekinetic aura, she had explained. “I am going to lock myself into this closed, sound-proof cell.” Luna had explained. “Where I will sit quietly, practice my meditation, and play mindless yet distracting video games.” Paper had nodded. It seemed like a sensible set of precautions, given the... unexpected hiccups that had come along so far. Luna had continued. “Under no circumstances short of an Equestria-threatening emergency am I to be disturbed. Do not open this door until one full day has passed.” Right. If it came down to it, Equestria HAD managed to survive on the figurative horsepower of a single princess for a millennium, and with Cadance in town, and Twilight Sparkle only a short flight or train-ride away, there was enough alicorn power to sustain two or three additional heavenly bodies. And really, it wasn’t the first time that Luna had empowered Paper Weight to deal with her royal appointments as the secretary saw fit. The trick, really, was to remember that Luna had full faith in her to manage whatever crises arose, and to handle it with poise and grace. Put another way, the secret to success came down to two enormous lies. ‘I know what I’m doing’, and ‘Luna has briefed me on this sufficiently to make a good decision.’ It was less than five minutes, by the clock, before the first peculiar thing occurred. There was a ripple in the air, the sound somewhat like the crunching of strangely organic tinfoil – not a teleport, something far stranger – and there was a Royal Guardspony and what looked like an academic mare that Paper Weight vaguely recognized from one of the University’s galas as Stop Watch. The pair were smoking slightly, and there was a sense of otherness behind them, as if there were more ponies standing right around a corner that was, unpleasantly, directly in the middle of the hallway. The guardspony’s eyes were frantic. “Have we been here yet?” Paper frowned. “In general? I’m quite sure. Everyone takes the tour sooner or later. Today? No, this is the first I’ve seen of you.” It was a rather odd question, but between the Extremely Experimental Laboratory in the University’s Inadvisably Applied Magic department and the ever-present threat of changeling invasion, it was hardly the first time that she’d heard it. The nattily-but-tattily dressed academic adjusted her bow-tie nervously. “Ponyfeathers. I think we went back too far. Calibration errors.” The guardspony gave Paper a forlorn look, the usual stoic determinism marred by wild eyes. “Right. Thank you, Secretary Weight. I suspect we’ll be seeing you shortly.” As swiftly as they had come, the pair departed. It would be easier to say ‘that’s not something you see every day’, Paper Weight thought to herself, if tenure season hadn’t just ended. She shrugged. Things would resolve themselves. Somehow, the world, nation and capitol had all managed to get themselves through any and all crises that had arisen before Princess Luna’s return to Equestrian soil. There was a plurality of princesses to pinch-hit for her. No need to bother her sovereign. This had all been a great deal more comforting before the next crisis had arisen. “A small contingent of royal guardsponies have gone... missing.” Paper Weight frowned. “Missing how? And missing why?” And where, and who, and... The Palace Librarian looked distressed. “Well, they were wandering through the Star Swirl the Bearded section of the library, since there was word that some university ponies were fooling around in the stacks. We think that they may have been lost in L-space... All the thaumaturgical weight of those temporal manipulation scrolls.” She was wringing her forehooves. “It’s possible that they’ve been... temporarily temporally misplaced.” Paper Weight was put to mind of her old equush. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Well, in theory they watched one another. The idea that the palace guards had to be guarded from holes in time was somewhat brain-bending however. You could employ ponies to guard the guards, but then you’d need to employ more ponies to guard those guards. Obviously those ponies would require further guarding, and eventually you were employing every pony that had ever lived, and making heavy investment in colt futures. On the other hand, this had a distressingly familiar ring to it. “Right. Go to the university. Find out who their specialist in time manipulation magic is. When you find out it’s...” What had been the mare’s name again? Stop Watch. “Professor Stop Watch, tell her that the fate of Equestria hangs in the balance.” The Palace Librarian paled, an impressive feat for an already white pony. “It does?” Paper Weight shrugged. “If it doesn’t already, it will sooner or later. On the balance of things, you’re just playing the odds.” The Palace Librarian galloped off, and Paper returned to her novel, sitting on a chair outside of Princess Luna’s cell. For now, crisis averted. Really, if that was the worst that the day was going to throw at her... She would have stared at herself in horror, had it not been anatomically impossible.(9) Even in the security of her own thoughts she knew better than to let something like that cross her mind. She wasn’t a superstitious pony – well, she had met ghosts, and the odd zombie, necromancer, bad luck omen, and so forth, but that was just ‘being Princess Luna’s secretary’, rather than believing in things that didn’t exist – but she had a degree of enforced savoir faire that emerged from being dragged along in the wake of the Princess’ adventures. One Did Not Think Such Things. It was tempting, if not fate, then that more worrisome motivating force, narrative. It was too late. Another pony was barrelling down the narrow stone corridor of the dungeons, and it seemed unlikely to be anyone from the tour. The laconic Daunted Hex, now approaching yet another anniversary of refusing to defend his dissertation, was well known for keeping a calm if somewhat strained head in a crisis. This feature had served him well, both as a student and as a barrista at the University campus coffee shop (the night shift was murder), and it was well-known that there were few things that would cause the pony to move at more than a comfortable mosey. He was running now, a fact made more distressing by his status as one of the senior student researchers in the new High Energy wing of the University’s magical energy research facility. Paper Weight might be the personal secretary to one of the land’s sovereign rulers, but common wisdom held that a magical ordinance expert at a run outranked a senior secretary standing still. He timed his stop well, skidding to a halt a foot or so from Paper Weight. “Paper!” Then he paused, gasping for breath. The problem for only running for crises was, when a crisis arose, you didn’t tend to be very good at running. “Daunted, what is it?” The stallion glanced over his shoulder, as if convincing himself he hadn’t been followed by anything. “Well... you remember the new High Energy Building?” Paper Weight frowned. Luna had just funded the building. Today seemed a day for ‘odd questions that became distressing the more they were investigated’. “For the sake of argument, let’s say that I do.” “Well... as Princess Luna is one of the honourary chairs of the department, I have some news about some pressing... re-designations.” Paper frowned. “Re-designations.” “Yes ma’am.” Daunted was more deferential to Paper than he was to Luna. The princess was a co-worker. Paper had, with him at least, the stern demeanour of an unpleasant second grade teacher he’d had as a foal. “As of ten-oh-one this morning, an attempt to utilize applications of the new proof Princess Luna discovered led to it being the Quite High Energy Building. At ten-oh-seven, a meeting of the university council re-designated it the Absurdly High Energy Building. Between ten-ten and ten-eleven, it held the status of High Velocity Building, followed by just plain High Building.” The red unicorn paused for breath. “Shortly thereafter it resumed status as High Velocity Building, and, upon making impact with the ground, is now the High Surface Area Building.” Paper Weight stared at him. “Are you telling me that the High Energy Building has been destroyed?” Daunted looked at Paper, and made the mistake of attempting to use humour. “Well, more... spread out a bit. It’s a good deal shorter, true, but in fairness, it’s a lot wider now.” “Was anypony hurt?” Daunted shook his head. “No. Professor Doubt says that it’s likely due to an unexplained property of the Narrativium that was being experimented upon, but the senior researchers always say that when something they don’t have an explanation for happens. It’s like the archaeologists and anything that they dig up without an obvious use claiming ‘votive purposes’.” Paper pinched the bridge of her muzzle. “Right. Right. I’ll sign a writ, just get construction teams there to start rebuilding any parts of the university that were damaged. Anypony that was involved in the experiment, promote for not dying. We need lucky ponies these days... no one else lives to make it to tenure.” She frowned. “Wait. If the crisis is over, and nopony was hurt, why were you running?” Daunted looked sheepish. “Well, the falling building might have... clipped a few of the other university buildings on the way down. Nothing serious. But... a few other experiments might have been disrupted. And released.” * * * A massive lizardlike bunny, three stories tall with burning red eyes, tromped through downtown Canterlot. With the sound of tearing organic tinfoil, a small contingent of guardsponies and an academic in a bow-tie found themselves right in its path. “WHEN ARE WE NOW!?” * * * It was later. Crises had happened. Solutions had been found. Actually, Paper reflected, crises were still happening, and solutions, while definitely found, were being implemented as new crises reared their ugly heads. That damned guardspony team was still missing, meaning that the palace was short-staffed as the events of a bad Neighponese kaiju flick took place outside of the palace. Briefly, she took a moment to envy her employer, who was, if anything, probably bored inside of the cell in which she, steadfast, waited out the day. The magical disturbance that had so remodelled the High Energy Building had wrought mystical mischief across Canterlot. Clocks were running backward, the apple trees in a rather fashionable neighbourhood had grown pears which had then chased the neighbourhood dogs off, barking and snarling, and every member of the Canterlot Stallions Chorus had become magnetically attracted to one another. And all of that discounted the giant creatures, breathing – she was assured – non-radioactive fire at one another. As mildly comforting as it was to learn that, unlike what popular cinema had suggested, the fire was non-radioactive, it somewhat paled in comparison to the reality of everything else that had happened. And yet, Paper Weight found herself oddly relaxed. Maybe it was just the result of having manageable crises for a change. As unshiftable as the problem of giant monsters and magical weirdness was, it moved like a well-oiled cart when compared to Canterlot politicians. Yes, some of the stopgap measures that were being hastily thrown into place would cause budgetary problems later on, but for now, that was tomorrow’s problem, the second best kind of problem.(10) Paper Weight took a sip of her coffee, and addressed the crossword in front of her. It wasn’t as if she was well-suited to fighting giant monsters rampaging downtown, and it took the experience of a practical, career bureaucrat to realize that there were some problems you aided with best by simply staying out of everypony’s way. You paid the bills as they came to you, you offered the best advice that you could when it was sought, but if you could do nothing else to help, trying just created more problems. Besides, if she was figuring the pattern right... A now very familiar Canterlot guardspony galloped down the corridor. “Miss Weight! You’ve got to help us! Our unit was in the Star Swirl the Bearded section of the library, and we got lost, and...” Paper held up a hoof. “Try to get to the University. Professor Stop Watch should be waiting for you.” She paused. “Shouldn’t you be smoking?” The guardspony frowned. “Not when I’m on duty. Why would I be?” Paper shook her head. “Never mind. I think I got ahead of myself somewhat.” The guardspony vanished with the wavering of spacetime, and Paper went back to puzzling over a seven-letter word for a logical impossibility. “Miss WEIGHT!” Paper closed her eyes, and counted slowly backward from ten, as the pencil in her telekinetic grasp snapped in two. “Yes, what?” It was one of the ponies tasked to monster containment duty. “There’s been a development that I thought you should know about!” He was stammering a little bit, which promised to be unpleasant. With the number of magical mishaps the university was budgeted for in the average year, anything that could move their more veteran staff to stammers boded ill for the less resilient of spirit. Paper gestured that he should speak on, and he did so. “One of the parasprite containment units has failed.” Ponyfeathers. Parasprites in downtown Canterlot. “And the parasprites, in consuming some of the residuals from the High Energy Building, grew enormous in size!” Oh horseapples, that wasn’t better. “And then they knocked a cider wagon, which hit the distillery building, and, well, long story short...” “All of the monsters are now drunk?” The researcher waggled a hoof. “Most of them. And... quite a lot of the containment crews. It’s kind of hard to avoid swallowing any of it when a tidal wave of whisky starts down the street.” He brightened for a moment. “On the other hand, they seem to be enjoying the overtime work a bit better now!” As day turned to night, the brightness of the expression crested the horizon, and darkened. “Collateral damage has increased a bit, though.” Paper Weight rubbed her temples. “A bit?” “Well, the whisky IS flammable...” the stallion trailed off. Paper carefully schooled her expression, taking pains to reduce her level of Ambient Searing Rage to ‘mildly perturbed’. It took a lot of willpower, but if there was one thing that being Luna’s secretary had taught her, it was how to avoid visibly expressing the desire to strangle the pony in front of one. “What, pray tell, do you wish of me? I am, admittedly, neither a firefighter nor able to instantly sober up a pony.” “Well... we heard that there was a missing unit of the Canterlot guard. Having a full unit available and sober could help us get things under control a lot faster.” Paper frowned. “Actually... I may have an idea in that regard.” * * * Daunted looked at Paper. “Run this by me again?” Paper gestured at the area of the old Canterlot dungeons. “If I recall my magical theory correctly, there are strong ties between expressed magical energy and emotion? Hence why the adrenaline that comes from fear or anger can boost a unicorn’s telekinesis, for example.” Daunted shrugged, and nodded. “Certainly. Given everything that’s happening at street level, we could probably manage a Minor Working through ambient terror alone.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Not that we really need MORE magic right now. A good deal less might be helpful, if I’m being perfectly honest.” Paper smiled wanly. “Right now we have a shift of guardsponies that are displaced in time. I want you and your various colleagues...” she gestured vaguely at the scholarly ponies that she had gathered together in the dungeon “to use a specific frequency of emotional resonance to provide them with an anchor. Some place that they can safely come back to.” Daunted shook his head. “It’s not a bad idea in theory, but there’s too much interference. No high emotion that we could tap into that isn’t being expressed all across the city right now.” Paper grinned. “I bet there’s one.” Daunted looked at her, puzzled. “We are currently sitting on the only source of boredom in the city, at the moment.” * * * “And so, while technically my actions did provide the needed ingredients for the salvation of the capitol, it was truly necessary.” Luna laughed, a trifle bitterly, as she sipped coffee while she caught up with her sister. “They retrieved the guard unit, which helped to get the biggest problems under control. I helped, as a princess must. No closer to the goal, mind you, but at least there’s still a Palace. And a capitol city, come to that.” Celestia sat placidly, and shook her head. “Only you, Lulu. I’m quite certain that not every picnic that Twilight Sparkle arranges is interrupted by a city-wide event.” Luna eyed her sister, recalling some of the friendship letters that she had read over the tuition of Celestia’s pupil. She wasn’t sure even that much was true... “No regrets though. I’ll keep at this even if it takes me a month.” She paused. “Ancestors, I really hope this doesn’t take a month.” Celestia sighed. “I think I may have an idea for tomorrow.” “It’s another day, after all.” “That it is.” 9: Really, the best most anypony could do would be to stare at a mirror in horror, and few mirrors truly deserved that. 10: The best kind of problem, of course, was one which belonged to somepony else. Tomorrow’s problem was LIKE somepony else’s problem, except that sooner or later, somepony else was you.