CHAPTER SIX
“Director Macintoshky?”
Rivet Punch looked up from behind his desk, lowering a piece of paper. “Da?” He said through the intercom on his desk, not forgetting to push the button this time.
“There’s somepony for you, sir.”
Rivet Punch put the paper aside and clopped his hooves together. “Let him enter, please.”
“Yes, Director Macintoshky,” the high, metallic mare’s voice said. With a crackle the intercom went silent.
Sighing, Rivet Punch eased back in his chair and took a moment to mentally prepare himself for the next conversation. Finally, the chairpony of the Eastern-Equestrian Board of Industry and Trade has arrived, Rivet thought. What took him so long?
Rivet put his hind legs against the rim of his the desk and pushed off. The chair rolled to a halt at a large window, covered with a white curtain. Standing up, Rivet pulled away the curtain and revealed what was behind it: the smelting ovens. A dozen enormous tanks were lined up next to each other. Before each one of them were a few stallions busy shoveling gold ore into the fire, sweat beading on their foreheads. But Rivet Punch wasn’t looking at that. He looked at his own reflection and adjusted his tie, making sure it covered the scar on his neck; that would be a nasty sight for a chairpony of one of the most powerful organizations in all of Equestria.
The scars painfully reminded Rivet Punch of the events that had unfolded a month ago; the events involving his friend, a bear, and a whole lot of gold. He lowered his head as the memories stung him—so he tried to think about the most positive ones.
After leaving Silnyy behind, he had made it back to the village and had dropped his friend off in his house. Rivet had found just enough energy to light a fire in Carbide’s hearth to keep him from freezing. But after that, Rivet went home himself and collapsed on the couch, bloodied and hurt.
Rivet closed his eyes in concentration; he couldn’t remember how long he’d laid there. He could remember a doctor with loads of bandages, a saw, the faint smell of alcohol, and screaming—lots of screaming. Camomila was there too, and her expression: full of concern and pain, perhaps even more pain than Rivet had felt. Had Carbide felt such agony as well?
Rivet let out a sigh. He blamed himself for not having visited Carbide Lamplight, but he had simply been too busy with the takeover of the steel factory. He was director now, and with being director came a lot of paperwork.
Suddenly, a few of the ponies downstairs noticed their boss behind the glass. They paused for a second and gave Rivet a wave. Rivet waved back. With a smile he thought of all the reactions of the village folk when they heard the good news. The factory wouldn’t close; there would only be a reorganization, and of course, a change of management. Everypony had been so happy they wouldn’t lose their job; they were even happier when they heard how their salary would be tripled, and how they all got three days off to celebrate Hearth’s Warming together with their families and friends. Some of them already started to call Rivet Punch Macintoshky their hero, and Rivet had overheard rumors in the break-room about how they would make a statue of him in the center of town square.
“With both ears,” Shovelhead had said.
“Of course,” Rusty had said back, “he deserves it. He has saved us all.”
Suddenly Rivet’s smile waned as he thought of that conversation. He rushed over to the coat rack, pulled off his top hat, and placed it firmly on his head. Rivet knew it would be a little bit impolite to negotiate with a hat, especially indoors, but he reckoned that the sight of a pony with only one ear would be even more unsettling.
Naturally, right after Rivet had gotten control of the factory, he had a telegram sent to the chairpony of the EEBIT, asking for a meeting. The chairpony had replied, very interested in Rivet’s enterprise and future plans. Rivet smiled thinly; the future looked bright; as bright as gold.
Directly after the takeover, Rivet Punch had led some of the best prospectors and miners to the gold-cave. It had still been empty, of course, but the prospectors had practically jumped of enthusiasm at the surrounding hills, because each of them had shown much potential for gold. The first veins were discovered, and a steady supply of gold ore soon began streaming to the smelting ovens of the former steel factory.
Rivet chuckled at the memory. In fact, the first vein they’d discovered lay in the very same cave Rivet had received from Silnyy. They had to dig a little bit deeper, though, but soon the cave had revealed itself to be infinitely more deep than one could see on the surface—infinitely deep and infinitely promising.
It had taken Rivet Punch no trouble at all to convince the prospectors, miners and everypony else he had gathered to use the gold his way instead of dividing it on the spot. They’d trusted Rivet Punch completely; that’s what friends do.
Gradually, his thoughts went to the future. With the money from the first shipment, Rivet would build a small, steam-powered railroad into the forest and to the gold-rich hills. That way he could increase the factory’s productivity by three-hundred percent. Those were numbers which had sounded like music to the chairpony’s ears. High numbers and solid plans.
Tomorrow would be Hearth’s Warming. Rivet pulled out a golden pocket watch and observed the time: half past four. The day was almost over, and everypony would be enjoying the holidays in half an hour. Although Rivet knew everypony was eager to celebrate Hearth’s Warming with their families, he saw none of the stallions below slowing down or lagging behind. Rivet Punch didn’t need an iron fist to enforce discipline at all.
The doorknob rattled, and brought Rivet back to the present. He jolted, flattened his mane, and buttoned up his jacket, then he turned around.
“Good afternoon, Rivsky.”
Rivet’s heart froze. He jumped in the air and his hat fell down on the ground. Quickly he recomposed himself, straightened his tie, and stood erect in the representative, business-like posture he had practiced many times in the mirror. “Good afternoon, Carbide Lamplight,” was all he could bring out, his tone as neutral as he could make it.
The two ponies stood like that for a long moment, each observing the other, lost in their own thoughts. Carbide stood on the carpet, helmet in his hooves, a bandage wrapped around his head. He looked down, only daring a few short peeks at the red stallion opposite him. Just like Rivet Punch, he had no idea what was going to happen now.
“Director Macintoshky,” a mare’s voice said from the little box to his left. “There’s somepony else for you.”
Rivet shook his head as the silence was broken. “Let him wait,” he called back. “Tell him I’m busy.”
Director Macintoshky. Carbide Lamplight thought about these words and moved his lips, although no sound came from them. Those two words were enough for him to know what had happened. He had heard rumors, but now he saw him in full: Rivet Punch, his former friend, director of the steel factory.
Sighing, not knowing what to say, Rivet turned around and closed the white curtains—accidentally stepping on his hat on the ground. He searched for appropriate words, but then remembered some of the business etiquette he had taught himself. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing at a red chair opposite of the desk; at least it was something.
Slowly, Carbide sat down in the chair, looking like there were spikes on the cushions.
Rivet rolled his chair back to the desk and sat down too. He laid his fore hooves on the desk as if he was about to have an important business meeting. But Rivet knew this conversation was much more important to him than a meeting with Princess Celestia herself.
Silence fell upon them like heavy snow on them, covering the room in a white, muffled blanket. The only sound that penetrated it was the sound of sweeping shovels and melting ore beneath. Rivet and Carbide both wanted to talk, both wanted to talk about the same thing. But of course, they couldn’t. They tried to find a strategic way to bring it up, but failed miserably.
Carbide opened his mouth. “The factory… it looks good.”
“Thank you,” Rivet said back, infinitely grateful that the difficult conversation had finally taken off. “Much has changed.”
“You’re right.” Carbide turned his mining helmet around in his hooves. “So… you’re mining gold now?”
“Yup.”
“I could smell it a mile away.” Carbide didn’t know where he got the guts to start making jokes, and gave himself a mental slap in the face. Quickly he fired off another question; so far questions worked out alright. “How is it coming along?”
“Good. Very good. Beyond expectations,” Rivet said. That was the answer he’d rehearsed.
Carbide shuffled uneasily. “Good to… good to hear that. I reckon everypony is going to keep their jobs?”
Rivet Punch stood up. Carbide Lamplight jolted.
“I can show you, if you want?” Rivet said. “But not outside, there’s a tough challenge waiting for me there.”
Carbide wasn’t sure if he should laugh, but still followed his friend to the enormous window. Rivet pulled the curtain aside and the miner looked down at the ovens below.
The stallions were still busy with their work, and they didn’t notice Rivet and Carbide staring down on them. Not that it mattered; nopony would recognize Carbide anyway.
“It’s so busy,” Carbide said, as he watched the dozens of stallions hauling, sweating, yelling, hammering, shoveling, and anticipating.
“Yes,” Rivet said, looking down into the hall as well. “Many more villagers asked for a job once they realized that the factory would endure.” He smiled. “That’s beautiful. Saved me the work of organizing a giant hiring campaign.”
“Yes…”
For a while the two ponies stood there, looking through the window. Suddenly, a steam horn screamed through the hall, and the workers turned their heads at the giant clock at the wall. Both Carbide and Rivet jumped; despite having worked for many, many years in the factory, they’d never gotten used to the sudden sound. Below, the stallions wiped their brows, sighed and started wrapping up their tools and closing down the furnaces and workshops. They took a moment to talk and laugh with each other, full of jolly thoughts about the upcoming days. After a couple of minutes, the crowd started moving, heading towards the exit beneath the stairwell, ready to clock out and to collect their Hearth’s Warming bonuses. However, once they’d gathered and got up and moving, the workers stopped underneath the office of their Director. There they all lined up like a choir, looking at their boss and waving cheerfully. Rivet Punch saw their mouths moving, and although the glass was soundproof, he could hear them saying in a chorus of rough stallion voices: “Merry Hearth’s Warming, boss!”
Rivet waved back, but Carbide turned around, feeling something cold creep up in his mind. Silently he sat down in his chair again. The thought of leaving did flow through his head, but he had one more thing to say, although he had no idea how to say it.
Closing the curtains, Rivet took his own seat, feeling like the whole conversation started over again.
“It seems they love you, Rivsky,” Carbide said, not wanting to have another silence again. He reckoned keeping talking was the way.
“They do.” Rivet managed a smile again. “They are just happy they have a job and can celebrate Hearth’s Warming without worries. A merry Hearth’s Warming for everypony, that’s what I wanted.”
Carbide returned to his thoughts. So that’s what he meant!
As if he could read his friend’s thoughts, Rivet Punch’s smile dissipated, as he said, “Honestly I didn’t really think of that before you mentioned the lot of the villagers and how they were being scammed by the factory. I suppose I should thank you for that.”
No, no, this is all wrong, Carbide thought, and he winched at the gratitude. He didn’t deserve any gratitude at all. It was Rivet who had carried him home, stoked a fire, and even left a gold nugget behind to cover the medical costs. Carbide Lamplight should thank him; Carbide Lamplight should apologize, but he couldn’t—not yet.
“What are you thinking about?” Rivet said, his tone still neutral and serious.
Carbide hesitated. “Eh… It seems everypony is happy.” Of course that wasn’t what he was thinking about, but he thought it was the best thing to say.
But now, after all the phone-calls he’d made, Rivet Punch had become quite accustomed to finding the double meaning in business conversations and spot lies quickly—an invaluable skill in the business world. He put his hooves on the desk, stood up, and bent over, capturing Carbide in his gaze. “No,” Rivet said, “not everypony.”
Carbide felt like the back of his seat suddenly transformed into ice. He shivered at the sight of the cold hard businesspony: cold, yet energetic, and ready to take on the world—or a scrawny old miner pony.
“And I think you’ll have to make peace with your past before you’ll ever be happy again.”
Carbide’s mouth twitched, but he knew Rivet was right.
Without a warning, without a heads-up, Rivet fired off the question which had laid on his mind ever since he’d returned Carbide home: Silnyy’s warning. “So why didn’t you betray me?”
Carbide’s body jolted as if a white-hot rivet was punched right through him. “W-w-what?!”
“You heard me,” Rivet Punch said with an iron voice. He wasn’t angry, just strict, using the direct approach he’d always loved, and it turned out that attitude went very well with doing business—or, in this case, getting some answers.
“W-w-where did you hear that? I-I mean… who told you that?”
“Silnyy.” But then Rivet shook his head and corrected himself. “A bear, I mean.”
“A bear?!” Carbide’s eyes tripled in size and he lost his humble tone. “There was a bear as well? A grizzly bear?”
“Yes.”
“And you saved me from him?”
Rivet cleared his throat. “From her—and yes, something like that.”
A thousand questions popped up in Carbide’s mind, but he knew by his friend’s direct gaze that Rivet only wanted the answer to his question. “Why I didn’t betray you…?” Carbide repeated.
“Yes.”
The only way he could possibly answer that question, was by telling the whole story; all the way from the beginning. Carbide coughed, a black, ashy wisp escaped his mouth, and he began. “Well… when you left me, Rivsky, it took me a few days to pull myself together again. My head hurt, and I went to the doctor as soon as I was able to stand on my hooves without feeling dizzy.” Carbide Lamplight paused, but his friend motioned for him to continue. “I-in the beginning, I was angry—angry at my loss. And honestly, I did think of many ways to get the gold back or…” he swallowed “…or to do harm to you.”
Rivet nodded in silence.
“And it hurt—my head, I mean. It hurt a lot every time I thought about that; or anything, actually. But as the days passed, I thought less and less, and my headache went away. It was then that I noticed my anger was replaced by… shame.” Carbide Lamplight lowered his head, and his ears drooped down. “My memories returned one by one, like long-lost photo’s you finally find in a box, but only after digging all the way to the bottom. I reached the bottom, Rivsky. I realized where it all came from and I was ashamed that I did all this to you: stealing your gold, attempting to kill you, and even continuing to be angry after you got me home through that storm.” Carbide swallowed again, it felt like there was a lump of coal in his throat. “You saved my life, Rivsky—and you own doing it.” The miner couldn’t resist looking at Rivet’s head. “And I guess you got off much worse than I did.”
Rivet followed his friend’s gaze, and then realized that he had left his hat on the floor. Quickly he ducked, snatched it up, and put it on his desk—he would dust it off later. “This wasn’t your fault, Carbide,” he said, wiggling his one remaining ear. “The bear did this. Don’t worry.”
Carbide closed one eye and winched, almost as if he could feel the pain Rivet had felt. He couldn’t see any bite or claw marks on his friend’s head; Carbide knew what those looked like. Living in the outskirts of the village sometimes meant chasing bears off your property, and he had had a few brushes with those monsters already.
“She scratched me bad.” Rivet couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “I guess she was very angry; it had to be amputated.”
Carbide grinned as well, although he knew he was just stalling the conversation.
Once more, it looked like Rivet could read his mind. “I’m sorry, Carbide,” he said, “please continue.”
Swallowing his grin, Carbide took a deep breath that ended in a sigh. “So… after I managed to let go of my grudge I… well… I felt too ashamed to do anything. I didn’t even go to town to buy some food or drinks; I couldn’t stand looking anypony in the eye. Even going to the doctor was difficult for me, but back then I had motivation; I could recover and get revenge. I could find a way to get to you.” Carbide paused again. He couldn’t believe how cruel and unfair that sounded out of his own mouth. He saw his vision blurring, and the shame heaped up in his head like a pile of gravel. A small tear landed on the red carpet.
Rivet opened his mouth to say something, but his friend continued on his own.
“Accompanied by the shame, I… I didn’t have any motivation anymore. I felt… lost.” He sobbed a few times, staining the carpet with more grey tears. “For a long time I didn’t do anything—I didn’t even think anything. After only a short while, my belly started feeling like it was made of sandpaper and my mouth became bone-dry. Somehow I had to survive, if only to squash those terrible pains. I had to get food.”
Rivet found himself completely immersed into his friend’s story, and he sat on the edge of his seat. Things had definitely been better with him than they’d been with Carbide. “But how did you get food without going to town to buy anything?”
“I… scavenged, gathered, stole.”
“But it is winter. There’s nothing to gather.”
“Yes there was.” Carbide wiped his eyes with a dusty hoof. “I gathered many acorns and chestnuts, buried in the ground. I stole the winter-supply of many a squirrel. And herbs… some herbs and shrubs manage the winter cold a little—I gathered as many as I could. There was tree sap too, but”—Carbide shuddered and stuck out his tongue—“that tasted horrible.”
Rivet tried his best to hide his astonishment; he couldn’t help but feel pity. Looking closer, Rivet realized with a shock that Carbide did look much skinnier than he used to do—dirtier as well. “So you lived on nothing but acorns, plants and tree sap?”
Carbide nodded. “I guess it runs in the family.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Now Carbide was the one who looked shocked. He’d totally forgotten that Rivet Punch didn’t know about his family and kin. A touch of anger flared up, and he slapped a hoof against his head. “Argh!”
Rivet stood up. “Watch out, Carby. Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m ok,” Carbide said, but soon the bandage on his head became redder and redder. When he saw Rivet reach for the intercom, he jolted up and blocked his friend’s hoof from the button. “No! I mean… don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it later.”
Rivet looked him deep in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
Then both ponies slumped back in their chairs, not sure where to go from here.
“You… you don’t have to tell everything if you don’t want to, Carby. I guess I’ve got the answer to my question.” Rivet’s voice was no longer pertinent, but full of concern.
“No,” Carbide said. The strength of his own voice surprised him. “I’ve never told anypony about my lineage, nor has my father or his father. It’s a family thing—and for a reason. But my parents are gone, and you’re my best friend, so I owe this to you. You see, Rivsky... eh, no—let’s begin differently. Remember the photographs on the wall?”
“Yes.”
“They’re the many generations of a miners family. My family has always been full of great miners but… bad prospectors. And as you know, without any prospecting skills, you might as well dig a hole in the center of town. In fact, nopony has ever pulled more than gravel and dust out of any mine, and we’ve lived all over Equestria. The Lights have been everywhere: Vanhoover, the Crystal Empire, Appleloosa, Fillydelphia—some of them even settled in the Badlands. The thing is, everywhere there’s mountains, my family has been trying to find riches in them—but they’ve never been successful. Not papa Lanternlight, not grandpapa Candlelight, not great-grandpapa Torchlight, and not… well… I can’t remember anymore ancestors before Sulphur Torchlight—but I’ve got pictures of them, of course.”
Rivet nodded, enthralled by the tale.
Carbide hung his head down. “Failure runs in the family. Being poor runs in the family. That’s why my parents got so excited once they got their first and only son—their first and only unicorn son: me. Apparently, the unicorn magic skipped a generation.” Remembering the warm bonds of family, Carbide Lamplight raised his head. The memories flashed by before his eyes like a movie, almost visibly. “They were happy to finally have somepony magical in the family who could use his magic to find gems and precious metals, maybe even as good as the unicorn Rarity. Have you ever heard of her?”
Frowning, Rivet dug through all the history lessons he’d learned during his short school time, which weren’t many. “Rarity… Rarity…” he mumbled, “wasn’t she one of the keepers of the elements of harmony?”
“She was. Of generosity, to be exact,” Carbide said, pride radiating off him. “She was always my greatest role model, though mainly for her astounding talent to find gemstones hidden in the earth by using her magic.”
“Could she really do such a thing?” Rivet Punch couldn’t remember anything like that being told to him.
“Yes, really. I wanted to learn how to do that too—to make my family rich and make them happy, but…”
“But what?”
“I couldn’t do it. You see, magic requires study and practice. I had all the time in the world to practice, but nopony in the family had any Bits to send me to a magic school.” Carbide sighed heavily; his shoulders slumped down. “So after they passed away, I decided to travel to another spot; to a spot none of them had ever gone before, and try my own luck at finding riches in the earth. That’s how I ended up here, in North-Eastern Equestria, and in this village. The rest you know, Rivsky. I bought a piece of land, started digging, and failed, just like my ancestors did.”
Rivet looked at Carbide. He didn’t know if he should feel concern or pity. His gaze bore a mixture of both, and Carbide looked away. Never had Rivet seen this side of Carbide Lamplight before—it was as if he’d never known his friend up until now. Rivet couldn’t help but feel guilty; to feel like a torturer. He’d learned so much painful things about his friend in this single conversation, things he would remember forever. “You know, Carby. I think being rich is useless if you have nopony to share your riches with. As I said during…” but then he swallowed his words “…during our, eh, minor disagreement: what you need is friendship.”
Carbide hung his head, and Rivet saw another glistening in his eyes. “I don’t understand.”
And then there was a long silence, echoing through the office. Carbide Lamplight didn’t feel any strength left to talk, and Rivet Punch didn’t know what to say. Of course he didn’t; how in Equestria does one explain the infinitely complicated meaning of love and friendship to somepony who had experienced those things only a few times in his life? It had taken Twilight Sparkle many years to master the magic of friendship decades ago. It might as well be easier making a pony without ears understand what music is. What to do… What to say… Rivet felt like he was no longer a businesspony or a director or a friend, he felt like a psychologist. That was a step too much for Rivet. He was no psychologist—he was barely a businesspony. Clopping his hooves together, Rivet decided to ask one more question, if only to dispel the silence and to distract the poor, depressed pony in front of him. “So, eh… what are your plans for the future, Carby?”
“I-I w-well…” Carbide tried his best to raise his head, but couldn’t hide the tears. “I was actually planning on leaving the village. You know, leave everything behind and start over, since I obviously haven’t been doing so well here.”
Rivet nodded. “So where are you planning on going?”
“Probably to… to Griffonstone.” He sighed. “Maybe they need another miner there; they still have an operating steel industry. I just hope they’ll let a pony work in their all-Griffon business.” Carbide made an attempt to sit straighter. “Maybe they will… I mean, I’ve got a lot of experience. I can probably talk my way in there.” He swallowed hard. “But… but…” He wasn’t able to finish.
“What is it, Carby?”
“But I haven’t gone. Not yet. I wanted to see you one more time. Just to… to…”—Tears flooded his eyes—“just to say that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rivet. For everything!” Suddenly he jumped up from his seat, and flailed his forelegs around. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I stole your gold; the gold you alone found and which was all yours! I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I tied you up and left you to die in that Celestia-forsaken forest! And I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I almost killed you and instead maimed you for life!”
Rivet was about to correct his friend on that last thing, but didn’t get a chance.
“But, you know what I am most sorry about?” Carbide held his head in his hooves, and his muscles tensed. His head was a raging, icy river of emotions of which a dam had been blown away, freeing its rushing waters. Then his arms pumped down, and his head flew up while he took a deep breath. “The thing I am most sorry about, Rivsky, is ruining our friendship!”
Now Rivet Punch himself felt sentiments bubble up and his eyes watered.
Carbide held his head in his hooves, sobbed a couple of times, and then looked one final time at his friend. “I-I guess I should go, Rivsky. You probably have more important things to do right now. Goodbye.” Carbide Lamplight turned around and headed to the door, hesitant but quickly at the same time.
In Rivet’s mind, a bomb exploded. Although Carbide had done him much harm, he was still Rivet’s friend—his best friend. The thought of him leaving hit him like a hammer on the head. No. That’s not going to happen. “Wait!” He yelled, almost jumping up from his seat.
And for the first time in many days, Rivet knew exactly what to say. It came to him, in a flash, fueled by hope and desperation. He took a deep breath, and then said, “Carby, please listen to me before you go.” Rivet wasn’t sure how to begin, and realized he couldn’t avoid a painful flashback. “In the cave, you said I was poor as well, right?”
“Yes,” Carbide said. He turned around, but didn’t look his friend in the eye.
“Well, I think you were right Carby—I didn’t have that much money. But you know how I could still wake up every day feeling like the richest pony in Equestria?” Rivet smiled. “Because of my family; my wife and my two beautiful children. I love them, and they love me too. You know, it doesn’t matter how hard a day was in the factory—and still is, actually—, at the end of the day, I always knew there would be somepony waiting for me who cares about me. Somepony with whom I can laugh and talk and make jokes, just like we do during our evenings of drinking, or our prospecting missions, or our hikes. It doesn’t matter if you’re the richest pony in the world if you can’t share it with anypony else. I guess having loads of friends around is another kind of being rich, right?”
Although his head hung almost to the floor, Carbide heard exactly what Rivet said. It was probably the longest speech his friend had ever given in his entire life. Carbide raised his head, but said nothing.
“You know, Carbide, why don’t you come and live next to us? Maybe you can sell your mine to somepony else?”—Rivet managed a chuckle—“I know you can, with that snake tongue of yours!”
Carbide didn’t laugh along.
“And then we can take down your house and use the materials to build a new one. I know many good carpenter ponies who would gladly help their new boss out. That way you can see us every day. Maybe you can help around the farm—Camomila Blossom can always use an extra hoof. ” Rivet grinned. “And I bet Resonance would love to have an audience to listen to her balalaika playing.”
“But it would be of no use. I would still have no job.”
“Then… then I’ll hire you. Yes! I am actually in need of a chief supervisor of the mining operations. The mining team could always need a little extra coordination, and of course, who could be more suitable than you? I’ve never seen anypony empty a whole cave full of gold nuggets as fast as you did.”
Somehow, Carbide couldn’t help but show a faint smile under the rim of his mining helmet. “Would… would you do that for me?”
“Of course!” Rivet said with that familiar, childish glee.
“Why?”
“Because you are my friend!”
Then Carbide laughed. Or perhaps he cried. Actually it was both. He grimaced and tears touched the corners of his smiling lips.
Rivet frowned. “Don’t cry, you softy! You’re a grown stallion,” he said playfully. “Go home now! I’ll see you tomorrow at my place, then we’ll celebrate Hearth’s Warming together. You wouldn’t believe the size of my Hearth’s Warming egg this year—Oh, and you’ll love the story behind it!”
Carbide looked his friend in the eyes, wiped away some tears, and then quickly retreated to the door. Although he was in a hurry, Carbide didn’t close it behind himself before saying, “Thank you, Rivsky.”
* *
When the thud of the door heralded a dead silence, Rivet returned to his chair and pressed the button of the intercom—he had one more thing to do before his day was done.
“Miss Moneywhinny, send the chairpony in, please?”
“Yes, Director.”
Rivet wiped his head with a handkerchief and donned his hat. Only seconds later, the door opened.
“Good afternoon, Mister chairpony. Please forgive me for the delay.”
“Good afternoon, Mister Macintoshky. How are you doing?”
“Good… very good. Thank you.”
The chairpony sat down in the chair Carbide had occupied moments ago, as straight as a plank. He planted a brown suitcase on the desk, opened it with a click, and revealed a stack of papers, which he straightened almost lovingly—then he cleared his throat. “I must say that both the EEBIT and I are quite impressed with the takeover of such a big enterprise. May I ask how you came by such a starting capital and such an extensive source of resources, perhaps?”
“You may,” Rivet said. “But I am afraid that is a company secret.”
The chairpony’s nose twitched. “Very well.” He flipped through the bundle of papers until he found the one he needed. “However it may be, I see many opportunities for the future, Mister Macintoshky.”
“Yes,” Rivet said with a gentle smile, “me too.”
THE END