“Herman, that can't be true,” Spring said, in the slow kind of drawl that always sounded condescending while simultaneously trying not to be. “Ponies are not aliens, we’ve always lived here.”
Herman sat with his arms folded, waiting for them to finish.
“It sounds like pure sci-fi to me,” Fair Weather said, and adjusted his helmet slightly. “I think I read something similar in a comic when I was a foal. Dusty still reads those, so I could ask him which series it was.”
“Herman, Celestia has been around for long over a thousand years,” Spring continued, when she noticed their counter-arguments didn't convince Herman. “She already told you that there existed no way to travel between worlds.”
“Yet, here I am,” Herman said, but he knew this discussion wouldn’t go anywhere. “I somehow came here from another world, and I immediately recognized most of the fauna and flora. Some things were different, but only slightly so.”
“Herman...” Spring said but was interrupted by him holding up his hand to her.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he said, then lowered his arm. “I doubt I can convince you, but let me try.”
Spring looked like she was going to object again and had apparent problems sitting still, while Fair Weather was busy inspecting his hoof.
“I think what happened to me has happened before, only on a grander scale,” he explained, and once more crossed his arms. “I believe a group of animals ended up here in large enough numbers that they could procreate, and not just ponies, but also plants, fish, birds, and so on.”
Both ponies were looking at him with a deadpan stare, but they were listening.
“I know I can’t prove it yet,” Herman continued, ”it’s my theory that most species in this world are the direct descendants of animals displaced from my homeworld.”
“That’s sounds hard to believe,” Fair Weather said, and looked straight at Herman. “Do you have any proof?”
“Not yet, and I will admit that my theory has some issues,” Herman conceded. “I was never a scholar, and I’m cut off from the knowledge and history of my world, but it all makes so much sense to me.”
“I think we should take a break from this topic,” Spring said, and judging by her tone, she didn’t believe a word of it. “I was thinking of ordering tea now that all the passengers have settled in. Herman, do you want some? Fair Weather will bring it to us.”
“Actually,” Herman said, and dreaded what would come next. “I was thinking of coming with you to the lunch cart.”
“Absolutely not,” Spring said, furrowing her eyebrows and aiming her ears at him. “Our mission is to get you to Canterlot in the safest way possible, and we just can’t...”
“I need to use the bathroom,” Herman interrupted and sighed mentally.
“Oh,” Spring said and blushed due to her earlier outburst. “Then I suppose we may as well since the bathroom is in the same wagon.”
“Guess I’ll also use it while we’re there,” Fair Weather said, and leaped off the bunk.
“Right, I’ll take point,” Spring said, leaping down and motioning Herman towards the exit with a hoof and a smile.
Herman sighed, knowing full well how awkward this would get. Spring moved out to the hallway, while Fair Weather waited for him to follow Spring.
“I’m coming,” Herman said. Inching himself slowly of the bunk, he stood up and did a quick stretch on both sides. Afterward, he followed after Spring who waited for him in the hallway, with Fair Weather set to guard his rear. “Is that necessary?”
“Yes, it’s guard procedure,’” Spring replied, and squinted her eyes at him suspiciously. “You’re not going to try and convince us to skimp on regulations, are you?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Herman said and put his right hand on his heart. “I doubt I could convince you anyway.”
Spring scoffed jokingly, then opened the door to the next wagon. Dusty was seated on his haunches and craned his neck towards Spring.
“Is it already time for a shift-change?”
“Not yet,” Spring said, in a voice loud enough for the entire wagon to hear. “We’re escorting Herman to the bathroom, and then we plan to have tea.”
Herman groaned.
“Should I come with you?” Dusty asked while moving to a standing position.
“No need,” Spring replied while moving past him. “I’ll bring back a thermos with some of your favorites, Mareoccan Mint correct?”
“Yup. Thanks, Sarge.”
Herman followed Spring with determined steps and forced a smile when all the occupants of the wagon turned to gape at him. Spring stopped when she noticed that everyone's attention switched to him, but Herman just waved at her to continue. It was like that for two more wagons, and he could tell that Spring was amazed by the amount of astonishment coming from all the passengers when they first saw Herman.
“Did we gape that much when we first met?” Spring asked once they reached the lunch wagon. The same two ponies from before were still kneading dough and cutting salads, with four additional ponies dining at the tables.
“Yes, actually you did,” Herman replied, and found the bathroom on the opposite side of the wagon. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Herman tried to move past Spring, but she reacted quickly and stayed in front.
“I’ll be fine from here,” he said, but she ignored him, and he couldn’t help but shake his head as they both walked towards the toilet with a stallion imprint, and a loose sign that said ‘Not Occupied’. She stopped and peeped into the lavatory, then stood in a guard position right outside the door. “Are you listening to me?”
“Of course I’m listening, Herman,” she stubbornly replied, and looked straight at the opposing wall. “It’s empty, so go ahead.”
Herman massaged his forehead with his right hand. He knew ponies had virtually no sense of personal space, and often lacked any form of shame or decency when it came to lavatory matters. The embarrassing situation, plus now being the center of attention of the cooks and diners, put a fair amount of stress on him, but he decided that just getting it over with would be the most efficient path.
“Thank you,” he replied, but the sarcasm went over her head as she just beamed at him. Switching the sign around to ‘Occupied’, he then opened the door, found an oval-shaped ceramic seat that barely reached above ground level, and sincerely wished that he was back home with his custom-made toilet. He sighed, entered, closed the door, sighed once more when he realized that it lacked a lock, pulled down his white linen trousers, and sat down at an odd angle.
“Is everything okay in there, Herman?” Spring asked, from the other side of the door, again loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled and resumed massaging his forehead with increased vigor.
“What was that?” she replied, with an even higher pitch.
“I’m fine,” he shouted and cursed internally.
There was a brief pause. “Fair Weather is ordering the tea right now, what kind do you want?” she continued.
“Mint tea will be fine,” he replied, just wanting her to be quiet.
Spring repeated what he said, but the reply was too low for Herman to hear. “What kind of biscuit do you want with the tea?” she asked next. “They have Ginger Nuts, Shortbread and...”
“Ginger Nuts,” he groaned back, and now had both hands massaging his temple. Thankfully, Spring was quiet for the next few minutes so that he could finish his business in peace. It took an effort to stand up again, and he was thankful that the painkillers were so useful, but his clumsy ascent had made a ruckus.
“Herman, what’s happening in there?” Spring asked, and Herman froze a few seconds when he thought that she was about to open the door.
“Nothing,” he said, pulling up his trousers. “I just slipped.”
She didn't reply, so he washed his hands in the sink while inspecting himself in the mirror. There were visible patches of sweat beneath both armpits, likely from when he had stretched his back, and he looked visibly more tired than when they had left his house.
Pushing the door open, he found Spring sitting there, looking like nothing had happened.
“What is it, Herman?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Nothing,” he mumbled and made his way to an empty table with four seats. Fair Weather was talking to one of the cooks at the cash register, while Spring sat down on the opposite side of him.
Fair Weather came next with a table containing three steaming cups and a pack of what must be the Ginger Nuts. On the package, he recognized the West Pony Trading Company logo, a front view of a three-masted barque on a wave with three pegasi flying in an escort formation.
“Thanks, Fair Weather,” Spring said, and got up from her seat. “Stay here while I use the little fillies’ room.”
“Understood, Sarge,” Fair Weather replied, and took the seat directly opposite of Herman, then winged him one of the cups. “Mint tea, I believe it was.”
“Thank you,” Herman said, taking the decorated porcelain cup, then rotating it carefully on the saucer. It had a beautiful picture of a mare holding a flower with a butterfly on it. “This is an amazing teacup for a small kitchen on a train.”
“It’s nice,” Fair Weather agreed, and looked at his cup that had a few red roses painted on it, then took a careful sip. “Not bad.”
“What did you order?” Herman asked, and tried a sip of his own. The taste had only a slight hint of mint, but it felt sweet and fresh.
“Chamomile,” he replied, putting down his cup, then reached for the box of biscuits.
Herman watched him shake out a few of the light-brown cookies and thought about the company logo. “I hear that the West Pony Trading Company often hire Royal Guard pegasi to escort their vessels. Have you ever worked there?”
Fair Weather thought about it as he chewed on the biscuit. “Yeah, I took a one year contract when I was twenty-three, but I didn’t sign up to have a grand adventure like most ponies do.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because me and Sweet Cheeks, my marefriend, had been trying to save up for a house, instead of hiring an apartment back in Canterlot, and the company pays a lot more than the guard.”
“A noble goal. How was it, working for a private employer?” Herman asked while stretching for a ginger biscuit of his own.
“I didn’t finish the whole year. Couldn’t stand being away from Sweet for a month at a time guarding a boat.”
“Did you ever see anything exciting out there on the seas?” Herman asked, and took a bite of the biscuit. It tasted slightly different from the ones his wife used to bake, much sweeter while tasting less of ginger, but it wasn’t that bad.
“Only once, when we met a large dragon out on the open seas. It had apparently flown off course of the migration and decided that the ship I was guarding, the HMS Tolerance, was a good place to land and rest. The only problem was that the dragon was as big as the boat, so we had to convince him to leave before he broke any of the masts.”
“Sounds dangerous, how did you convince him?”
Fair Weather used his wings to shrug. “It wasn’t that bad. Basically, you have to hit them on the nose with a big stick; they hate that. Though, I had to smack him a few times before he finally got the message.”
“Still sounds dangerous to me, don’t they bite and breathe fire?”
“Eh, they’re so slow that no well-trained pegasus would consider them a real threat, even if they get so mad that they start spewing fire all over the place.”
Spring came back from the lavatory at that point and sat herself down next to Fair Weather. “Phew, I needed that. So what are you guys talking about?” she said, then quickly grabbed for a few biscuits and her teacup.
“Just some of Fair Weather’s adventures,” Herman explained, then addressed the pegasus again. “Did you manage to save enough money for a house?”
“Nah,” he replied and scratched the back of his helmet with his left wing. “We always ended up spending all our money on vacation trips.”
“Well, there are certainly worse ways to spend your money,” Herman remembered the late sixties, where he’d spent a month on a fishing boat trying to earn enough money to buy a brand new Triumph Tiger Daytona motorcycle, only to have it stolen three weeks later. Still, it was during those wild weeks he met his wife.
They were silent for a time after that, each sipping their tea and enjoying the biscuits. Spring and Fair Weather came alert every time a new pony left or entered the lunch wagon but instantly became more carefree after giving each a visual inspection.
Herman looked out at the passing countryside, which had turned less grassy and more copper-brown and rocky, though the terrain was still flat with a few large hills looming in the distant.
“Which town is that?” Herman asked, and pointed at a few visible buildings on the horizon. In his office, he had a large map of Equestria that was mostly used to highlight essential customers and depots for his plank shipments, but this town was missing.
“That’s Appleloosa,” Spring said, putting her teacup back on the saucer with an audible clang.
“I can’t remember seeing that town on any of my maps,” Herman said and gave his chin a quick scratch while making a mental note to have them updated.
“A clan of earth pony settlers recently founded it,” Spring explained, and looked out at the window. “The point was to make the land more arable, and to more evenly space out Equestria's towns and villages across the southern border.”
“Interesting,” Herman mused and quickly calculated how much-increased production the lumber mill could manage on short notice. “How come I never heard of it?”
“Not sure,” Spring said but paused a moment to give it some thought. “I only know because I have a few distant relatives living there. I think that a plausible explanation is that the princesses have been hesitant to officially make it a town since there is a land dispute with the Buffalos.”
“I think I understand,” Herman said and tried to think if there were any potential dilemmas in supplying them with planks from his mill. If the town were still in its expansion phase, they would need larger-than-average shipments, and that would likely lead to down-payments on those deliveries, which in turn could be dangerous if the princesses ever decided to cancel the settlement. He would need to charge them with a risk premium if that was the case, and maybe even ask for guarantees from investors or the state.
“What are you thinking about, Herman?” Spring asked.
Herman jerked his head when he realized he’d been staring into his cup, and gave Spring an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I was simply thinking about work. Do you perhaps have any more insight into the situation in Appleloosa?”
“One of my cousins told me it’s been quiet for over a year if you’re referring to the tension between the ponies and buffaloes,” Spring said and threw another biscuit into her mouth. “Apparently, they managed to bribe them off with apple pies or something.”
“I see,” Herman frowned, not at all surprised by the very pony way of handling conflict, but it sounded like the dispute was well in hand. If he added a weekend shift to the mill, he might be able to accommodate one more customer. The weekend shift would need to be staffed, but Herman doubted the current workforce would be willing to take any additional shifts. Still, there were a few young mares and stallions in Rosewood that were eager to earn some extra bits, though he would need to make sure they were adequately trained for the job before he sent them to work unsupervised. Odds were that he would need to check in on the weekend to make sure things were handled properly since a circular saw could be dangerous in the wrongs hands, or hooves in this case, and Herman didn’t put much faith in letting young adults handle things responsibly.
“Herman, you’re spacing out again,” Spring said, then reached over the table to nudge his hand that was stuck holding the teacup just above the saucer. “Are you okay?”
Herman flinched when she touched him, and almost spilled his tea, but Fair Weather reacted quickly, reaching out to stabilize his cup by pressing both his hooves around his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Herman said, once he's fully returned to the present, then looked down at the hooves holding his hand tight. “You can let go now.”
“You’re still shaking,” Fair Weather noted, and kept his hooves where they were, even when Herman tried to pull back.
Herman looked down at the cup, then took a deep breath. It took a few more inhales and exhales, but he finally managed to calm down enough to keep his hand steady. There wasn’t any need to tell Fair Weather twice, who slowly withdrew to allow Herman to put the cup back on the saucer slowly.
“Herman, talk to us,” Spring said, then left her place to sit on her haunches on Herman’s side of the table. She stretched up and leaned over his shoulder to get a better view of his face, while Herman was struggling to figure out what had set the ponies off like this.
“I’m fine,” Herman said, and tried to push her away, but the armored pony barely budged.
“You’re sweating again,” Spring said. She squinted first at his face, then switched the focus to the hand that was trying to press her away. She backed off, then carefully pressed both her front hooves around his hand at the wrist. “Your other hand is also shaking.”
“I’m fine,” Herman repeated and again focused on slowing his breathing.
“Could this be side-effects from the painkillers?” Fair Weather asked.
“Just give me some space,” Herman said while reclaiming his hand from Spring. “I don’t believe it’s the painkillers.”
“What is it?” Spring asked, and thankfully backed off. “Is it because you were constipated?”
“W-what? No,” Herman said, then frowned. “I believe it’s because I’m under a lot of stress.”
“Oh,” Spring said, and returned to face the table, then craned her neck to look at him. “Is there something we can do?”
Herman just shook his head and tried to lean back, only to realize he was seated in a pony chair without proper back support. He jerked forward once he realized and instead put both elbows on the table and his hands on his head.
“I only need some peace and quiet,” Herman said, dejectedly. “It’s been one thing after another. My best friend might have been a changeling and arrested, and I have no idea what’s gonna happen in Canterlot, I’m continuously sweating.” He looked behind him. “And all of these goddamn pony seats.”
“Herman! No swearing,” Spring criticized, but when he turned to her, she was calm and collected. She put a hoof on his shoulder. “Let’s go back and talk about all your worries. It will be better if you can just let it out.”
“Fine,” he said and sighed heavily. “I guess that might be for the best.”
They all moved up from their seats and found that they were the center of attention in the wagon. The spectators all looked away when Fair Weather glared at them.
“You two can go on ahead,” he said, then moved to the cash register. “I’ll get some tea for Dusty.”
“Okay,” Spring replied, and gestured Herman to follow her.
Herman did so and strolled behind her as she headed for the next wagon. She stopped to look back at him when the distance between them increased. Naturally, she was worried about his slower than usual pace; Herman himself couldn’t quite understand why his body felt so stiff and heavy.
As they made their way, Herman got more and more uncomfortable, and unable to control his sweating. The constant stares from passengers made him increasingly self-conscious. Spring craned her head and gave him a worried glance as they walked to the back of the train.
“What’s up, Sarge?” Dusty asked when they arrived at their wagon.
“Herman is not feeling well,” Spring replied, and looked back at Herman once more. He tried to stand straight and put on a brave face. Her drooping ears showed it wasn't fooling anyone. “Fair Weather will be here shortly with your tea, and he’ll take over guarding the door.”
“Oh, okay,” Dusty replied, then opened the door for them.
They went back to their seats, and Herman sat down slowly, then leaned against the window and closed his eyes for a minute, focusing on staying calm.
“How do you feel?” Spring asked, jumping up on the bunk directly opposite of him.
“Tired, too warm, and homesick,” Herman replied, and opened his eyes to reach out for the window hasp, then slid the window one-third of the way. Fresh air rushed blissfully at Herman’s face, and he instantly felt less constrained.
Spring, however, moved to close the window until only a few inches was open.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
Herman only grunted in response but agreed that the air did feel uncomfortably chilly after just a few moments, as the sun outside had been descending. He closed his eyes once more, and Spring was thankfully quiet, so they sat like that until Dusty came in carrying a thermos and three cups on a tray.
“Fair Weather bought a large one because he figured you all might want some more tea,” Dusty said, and placed the tray on Herman’s bunk, pouring himself a cup, then moved to the seat next to Spring.
“I’m fine,” Spring said and laid down on her side. “If I drink too much, I have to go pee all the time. Herman, you want some more?”
“No, thank you.”
“How far are we from Ponyville?” Dusty asked, and leaned over Spring to get a better view outside.
“About an hour and a half,” she replied and pushed Dusty back to his seat. “Judging by those canyons outside, we’re near Ghastly Gorge.”
“Fair Weather mentioned we might stop in Ponyville,” Dusty continued, and took the tea and saucer that he’d placed next to him on the bunk, then blew carefully at steam before taking a sip.
“Yeah, about that,” Spring said, and rattled her armor as she moved to sit up straight. “Herman, because you're not well. I’ve decided that we’re stopping for the night in Ponyville.”
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, and she seemed determined, but her ears sticking out of her helmet betrayed her otherwise steely demeanor. He thought about objecting, but he was too tired to argue.
“Fine,” he replied.
Spring visibly relaxed.
“What if the hotel in Ponyville doesn’t have any rooms available?” Dusty asked.
“It should be fine. I’ve stayed there a couple of times, and it’s never been more than half-full,” she replied. “Besides, if we’re out of luck, we’ll only have to wait an hour for the next train to arrive.”
Their conversation died out after that, and they all sat in silence, most likely not willing to disturb Herman, who leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. The peace and quiet, discounting the rumblings of the train, ended when Dusty finished his tea.
“Herman, I've got to ask,” he said, then leaped down to put his cup and saucer back on the tray. “Fair Weather told me you believe ponies originate from another world.”
Herman opened his eyes and nodded.
“That’s pretty cool if it’s true,” Dusty said, then returned to his seat. “I’ve read a lot of sci-fi books, but in most of those, ponies use magically propelled sleeper-ships to travel between worlds. Stories about portals normally belong to the fantasy genre, where ponies square off with diamond dog barbarians.”
“I won’t deny that my theory may sound like pure fantasy at first.”
“But, you still believe it’s true?” Dusty continued, with a gleam in his eye. “Tell us why you believe it.”
Spring still only looked mildly interested, as she inspected the bottom of her hoof.
“I do,” Herman said, and gave them both a tired grin, then he tapped one finger on his forehead. “The alien mind-control is the key. I didn’t explain it properly before, but it leads to everything I have told you.”
“And that is?” Spring asked. “I’m still skeptical about that.”
“It’s because there is no mind-control. Instead, I would call it a sort of instinct left behind by your ancestors,” Herman explained and paused to think of a diplomatic way of telling the story. “You see, ponies and humans have a symbiotic relationship where we come from.”
“So ponies and humans live together,” Dusty said, and judging by his erect ears, he was very interested in the conversation now. “That doesn’t sound odd since there are plenty of ponies living in foreign countries.”
Herman hesitated and decided to keep tip-toeing around the subject. “The ponies from my world are... different, and I believe their offspring changed drastically after being displaced in a new and magical world, yet many of their primal instincts remained. Because of this effect, ponies have a strong drive to do what I want, though it doesn’t necessarily control them in any manner.”
“But, Herman, maybe you're just charismatic?” Spring said and looked him up and down. “You look friendly and trusting.”
“Thank you, but I don’t believe it’s so simple, because what convinced me of this theory wasn’t actually how the ponies react to me. Instead, it was my first encounter with a zebra,” Herman continued. “They were as afraid of me as if they were standing in front of a lion on the African savannah.”
“What’s Africa?” Dusty asked and began to wag his tail.
“It’s a continent,” Herman explained and placed both hands on his right knee. “Primitive humans originated from Africa a long time ago, and I believe they hunted the zebras. This is why I believe the zebras in Equestria were terrified of me. They recognized me on a very basic level as a threat.”
“That sounds far-fetched,” Spring scoffed and raised his hoof towards Herman. “What about the gryphons?”
“I believe they treated me indifferently because our species have never met before,” Herman said and put his hands on his knee. “Gryphons didn’t originate from our world, as far as I know.”
“Wait a minute,” Spring protested, while still pointing at him with a hoof. “Why would ponies be driven to make humans happy?”
Herman paused and gave it another moment's thought. “I think the best analogy would be to say that we had the same relationship as ponies and dogs have in this world.”
“Ponies herded sheep, cows, and chased away rabbits?” Dusty asked, and held a hoof over his mouth to prevent a laugh from breaking out. “I like it.”
“Not exactly, they would help with farm work, transportation, or simply act as companions,” Herman said, deciding to keep his explanation kid-friendly and straightforward.
Outside, the sun was almost on the horizon.
“Alright, I’m beginning to see a pattern,” Dusty said while adjusting his helmet. “So, if a Golden Retriever could suddenly talk to ponies, they would still be unconsciously driven to please their masters. Correct?”
“Something like that,” Herman agreed. “Perhaps even the magic of this world amplifies the effects to some extent.”
“That would make a cool book!” Dusty said and looked like he wanted to take notes. “Got any more?”
“Well,” Herman said, and paused. “To prove or disprove my theory, I researched the pony history books from the local library. I wanted to know what historians knew of ancient ponies.”
“Yeah,” Dusty said, waving a hoof. “That won’t tell you much.”
“Exactly,” Herman agreed and decided to close the window, as the train was heading towards a mountain tunnel. “There was minimal confirmable history in those books after you passed one thousand and five hundred years, only stories and speculation.”
“That’s Discord's fault,” Spring said, letting out a slight frown. “He pretty much messed up every book at the time, and even to this date, ponies have issues sorting out that mess.”
“I heard that archaeologists keep uncovering fossils of weird creatures, like the pony-mammoth, but it turns out they were almost all placed there by Discord to play a practical joke on ponies,” Dusty said, and chuckled. “I once heard they found the preserved remains of a giant Ponysaurus that later melted into chocolate once they put it in a museum.”
“The princesses have been alive for much longer than a thousand years,” Spring said and was now also interested in the conversation. “Most of what’s in current history books is from what they remember of those times.”
“Anyway,” Herman said, getting the attention of both ponies. “I was unable to disprove my theory, so instead I decided to expand upon it.”
There was a pause as the train slowed down for the tunnel, and once they entered, the entire wagon went pitch dark. The train roared inside, making any attempt at a conversation impossible. Herman took the time to formulate an argument better.
When they passed the tunnel, the landscape outside changed once more to lush green grass. Herman could see a town in the distance, next to a tall mountain.
“Herman,” Spring said before he had a chance to speak. “Is what you just told us similar to what you wrote in your memoirs?”
“Yes, basically,” Herman replied, a bit caught off guard.
“Then I still can’t understand it,” she continued, looking straight down in front of herself. “Nopony in the Guard would take that seriously. I don’t know anypony, much less the Guard Captain, that would think this matter needed to be investigated, and that it would require sending three guards to help escort someone across half of Equestria.”
Herman didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, he turned to look out the window again. The moon was rapidly ascending, and the light that reflected from its surface revealed a city built on the side of the mountain. It was too far away for Herman to make out more than a few spiraling towers, but with the moon just to the side, it made the sight strangely ominous.
“I have no idea,” Herman honestly replied.