Trickles of water dashed down the opposite side of the glass, the soft pattering of rain falling in a heavy shower becoming the only noise in our room as we stared in disappointment from our respective points.
Upon waking earlier that morning, around eight local time, skies grew increasingly overcast. Concern between the four of us at breakfast down in the hotel's restaurant. While we ate, tiny sprinkles dotted the windows with drops eventually growing in size and beginning to wet down the streets and sidewalks.
By the time we had returned to our rooms to freshen up before heading out, between the thirty seconds it took to reach the fifth floor from the lobby, a wall of grey blew in. Trees swayed in the wind below as the rain came down in sheets.
While it did tone down a bit over the course of a half an hour, to walk around outside would not be a fun experience. Not without umbrellas or ponchos, that is, something neither of us owned. Not even the little hotel convenience store sold them!
And thus, here we were, showered and ready to explore, only to learn the rain would last the majority of the day and cease a bit before dark, all according to the weatherpony on the news. So much for a guys' day out, especially since we'd planned to hit up East Town. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to check the forecast prior to this trip... stupid me.
"So, Star, tell me. You know the city better than me. What's there to do on a day like today?" inquired Night, brushing his dampened mane in the bathroom mirror.
My hooves crossed as I leaned back against the wall above my bed. "I would say East Town. But, you know, there isn't much of a cab service here. Not that there would be one servicing in this weather."
"Why the hell not?" he grimaced.
"Why not to which part?" I blinked.
"Why doesn't Coltlumbus have taxis or, really, anything?"
He had a point. "Well, if it weren't for the snippy old farts that are far outnumbered around campus, we would at least have a decent streetcar! But, you know, always the elder vote above those who could actually make good use out of public transport."
Setting down his brush, Night emerged from the bathroom door. "Man, if that ain't another main reason why you hate it—"
"Take my word for it when I say this. It is. Never easy to get across town quickly. I'd fly if I knew how to, but that doesn't help you or Ash."
"So... either way you put it, we're stuck here 'til the rain quits?"
I let off a downhearted sigh. "Regrettably."
The brown draft stallion groaned on his way to the bed he'd claimed the day prior, flopping on top in chagrin, rolling flat onto his back, hooves spread outward on either side of him and hanging off both sides of the bed.
After a few minutes of rain-filled quiet, his head turned, the light blue of his gaze setting on me while I zoned out to the peacefulness. "You think ConFest will be a washout?"
"Let's hope not," I slumped down, only my head upright and backed against the wall in a rather uncomfortable angle that was sure to end with a crick in my neck. "Of all the times..."
"Yeah..." he sighed, evidently sad in his tone. "Man, this is one of those days where working actually seems fun."
I glanced to the right at him. "I was just about to say that. Literally, right this very second."
"Is this what our lives have become?" he added floridly, in more of a statement than a question, concerned on behalf of the both of us. "Is this what it is like to be an adult? Contemplating work as the best place to be on a day like today and questioning our lives?"
It was out of firm demand that had me requesting, "Night, please, for the sake of all things, do not get psychological on me. Not now, not here, not then, not ever."
He rolled his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hoof over his eyes. "Affirmative, Corporal," garnering a brief scowl from me in response. I chose not to react beyond that.
The rest of that afternoon and much of the evening as well was spent napping, watching boring programs on the TV, and the sudden never ending suspicion that, perhaps, Night was on to something after all.
***
A pair of doors split in between, mechanized by hydraulics that automatically opened in advance of the unicorn, escorted behind by a uniformed security guard, moving along with him an earth pony stallion, hooves cuffed, chains clinking and scraping along the tiled floor as he walked.
The earth pony's bright violet gaze scanned over his surroundings while the doors slid shut behind. While darkened due to a significant lack of windows in the enormous laboratory, artificial light of digital monitors in many asymmetrical places made up for it.
Some smaller areas sat partitioned off by privacy glass, each with individual tables. Along the ceilings stretched wiring of all shape and size, seemingly fanning out in all directions and leading up to a circular chamber in dead center of the room, where some of these wires, among a few transparent tubes, hung from a steel lip positioned perfectly above a circular table. Here sat the center of their attention, where the maroon unicorn turned around a few feet in front of, grinning intently.
"Welcome to our robotics lab, First Lieutenant!" the unicorn gestured outward, the guard shoving the grey stallion along. "Take it aaaaall in. You'll want to get used to it for a few weeks."
The brow of the grey-coated stallion furrowed, his eyes once more studying the chamber and its seemingly endless electronic array. "What interest do I have in this place?"
Armet allowed his grin to falter, briefly shifting focus to the officer behind their prisoner, nodding once to him. The guard then took a set of keys, unlocking the steel cuffs binding the stallion's hooves, before turning away and leaving them to their own, where the unicorn regained a deceptive smirk.
"You should answer that for me, Arc Nobis. Why else would you need this?" his head tilted a hair to the left, producing from his suit's pocket the exact flash drive as the night it had been used.
Blood in the earth pony's streams froze over, and his eyes grew wide. Arc's look of shock mixed with mild bewilderment soon fell into a hardening glare. "That does not belong to you."
"No?" Armet fixed on the drive, turning it in his magic to examine it over. "This may not be. What it contains... hoho... that is a whole other story in itself, isn't it?"
The suited pony took gentle, methodical steps closer, holding the small storage device to eye level. The smug in his riveting expression told Arc what he had already known about this deceitful stallion, holding his ground stiffly as they now stood face to face.
Armet lowered to an almost whisper, speaking again, "What was it you were attempting to achieve that night? Breach security and steal from company data banks?"
"As part of my duty, I am to guarantee the safety of Equestria and its citizens. Doing so means I must ensure that you are not a danger to my ponies. However, evidence shows, that is not the case."
"Your ponies, huh? Like those Marines and sailors you murdered in cold blood? Well, excuse me, Prince," he took a few steps back, kneeling in a jocular bow. Arc simply observed in tense silence, grunting at his comment. "I can assure you, what it is that we do at GenTech, we prioritize the safety of our staff and our clients."
"It was a routine sweep, Armet. We are obligated to check for threats, warranted or not. What I did that night was justified," Arc returned sternly, eyes narrowing.
A silence fell between them. Carefully, with use of his magic, the unicorn tucked the flash drive back into a sleeve. His muzzle grew a somewhat intimidating smirk.
"Nopony likes a pony that fibs, First Lieutenant, especially not one such as yourself. Do you know what I do to fibbers?" his grin turned sadistic. Like before, Arc kept silent, letting Armet resume. "You are awfully generous for a pony of your occupation, are you aware of that? Not many agree to volunteer for our... tests..."
This time, out of curiosity, Arc questioned, "What tests?"
"Step forward," the unicorn requested, intently grinning, drawing a rectangular device, its screen see-through on both sides. It lit up in a bright blue. In further confusion, Arc took a few steps forward, coming to a halt above a hazard tape-like line on the floor, failing to notice it initially.
A set of mechanical arms dropped from above and cuffed tightly around Arc's hooves, forbidding movement, lifting him up off of the floor and bringing him to the table, planting him down on it, but continuing to hold him still. He grunted in retaliation, struggling to break free of their grasp, only to be further squeezed to the verge of pain.
Throwing his gaze up and forward, he saw Armet with the tablet in both hooves, swirling one hoof across the interface, before tucking it back away and approaching steadily.
"You see, Arc, had you not been so rudely concerned, you might have had a clue of what purpose this room is meant to serve over the next six months!"
"What are you trying to do?!" snapped Arc, attempting to kick his hinds and stomp his fores. Each effort was countered by the arms simply recoiling back. For them being artificial, they packed far more muscle than what he would have anticipated, drawing concern from the Marine.
The suit-donning maroon unicorn came to a halt some two feet in front of the table, standing below where Arc was held as a cylindrical tube built of fiberglass lowered steadily from the ceiling. A set of titanium latches slid through hooks built through the tube to lock it in that position, effectively trapping Arc without the need of mechanical arms.
"You, Arc Nobis... you are about to make history for us. You shall become the world's first super soldier, one to lead the soon-to-be thousands like you to victory. There will not be anything or anypony who can stop you in your tracks."
***
I coughed roughly, my lungs and throat simultaneously burning, as if I had swallowed a lit match and they caught fire, flaming all the way up the length of my throat.
The door clicked open, in walking a tall brown earth stallion, tossing his head to the side to move a part of his dark plum mane. With a warm, concerned smile, Night asked, "How are you feeling, Star?"
Groaning softly, "My damn father must have had something he contracted from the jail he works at, and I so miraculously caught it off of him..." I laid flat on the bed, staring up with my hooves over my stomach.
"You think that's it?" he walked up, dropping a plastic shopping bag on the side of my bed near my hinds. "I bought you some medicine, soup, and a pack of crackers."
I turned to him with a faint smile. "Thank you, Night, but... it'll be a bit difficult to make the soup without a microwave."
Frowning, in response to his mishap, Night brought his hoof up, smacking it gently on his face, shaking his head into it. "I'm sorry, I am an idiot. Forgot we're not in Manehattan."
"Don't beat yours—elf up—" a sharp gasp ahead of a vicious cough cut my words. I reached over to my nightstand for a bottle of water.
"Here, allow me," he reached quickly for it, bringing the bottle to my hoof.
I tipped the bottle, sipping ever so gently so as to avoid aggravating rather than quelling the tickle forcing coughs out of me and worsening the pain. Groaning, I laid back on my pillow, propped up against the wall to keep my head comfortably upright.
"Of all the times to get sick..." I sighed, closing my eyes.
"Hang on, I got you something for that, too," said Night, digging into the bag briefly and producing a small box. Inside sat a bottle of cough medicine and a little plastic cup to pour the liquid in to. He paused to read the painfully small-worded instructions on the back twice over, just to make sure he would not accidentally kill me with too much in the process.
I watched with growing desperation, reaching my hoof out as he soon began to pour the thick, cherry-colored fluid up to a certain line on the cup. Not a moment after raising the bottle was it in my mouth and flowing down my throat with how quickly I had snatched it.
It wasn't more than a few seconds after where I then began to regret everything. The taste, the smell in my breath, and the texture as it rolled down my esophagus, irritating the burn caused by the sickness. It actually made me want to cough more! What the hell, pharmaceutical companies?!
Immediately I reached for the bottle of water, only to be stopped by Night. "Let it go down itself."
"Fuck you, let it go down itself, this shit's foul!" I snarled, chugging down the little portion of water left in the bottle and inhaling deeply afterwards, panting. "What do they put in that shit?"
Night raised the bottle, turning it to the label displaying the ingredients. "Well, there's—"
"Don't tell me. I don't want to know," I wheezed out.
"You just said—... Okay," he twisted the cap back on and took the cup to wash it out for later use. "That should help after a little bit, hopefully."
"It's already helping," I groaned, laying back.
"Oh yeah?"
I continued, "Helping me cough my guts out."
"That should go away on its own, presumably as long as chugging that water right after doesn't make a difference," he sneered, running the cup under the sink faucet, reemerging moments after and placing it atop the bottle's cap. "So, about ConFest..."
"I don't think I can go, man..."
"What?" he blinked. "The medicine—"
"It'll help, but I won't feel better in time. Essentially, I would hate to twist a knot in a crowd and not make it to a restroom in time and wind up with all of us thrown out for something only I did, you know?"
"So... you're not going?" Night's ears lost their perk.
With reluctance, I shook my head, coughing lightly. "I'm sorry. I just feel... terrible. I haven't felt this nauseous in years, not since school."
He nodded slowly, chin lowering in despondency. "All right. I understand."
A feeble, innocent smile established on my muzzle in reassurance. "This is my karma for being around my father," I chuckled weakly.
Night gave a delicate smile in return. "Heheh. Well, you've still got your humor."
"You would call it humor," I smirked.
"I'd punch you if you weren't sick, I hope you know that."
"Oh, I know you would...n't." Night reared his hoof back. I threw mine up in defeat, laughing. "Okay, okay, easy!" coughing afterwards. "Sick pony, can't fight back!"
"Ah, what a load of bull," Night simpered. "You could kick my ass with a sword through your chest and your hinds chopped off."
"Now that right there is a load of bull, and we both know that." He shook his head in denial. "If all it takes a common cold to bring me down, what'll a sword do?"
"You know what they say," he shrugged. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
"No, what does not kill you isn't lethal," I corrected, before adding, "...usually."
Before Night could respond to that, a gentle knock on the door nabbed our attention. Just outside of our room in the hall called Ash, muffled by the mild soundproofing of the room's construction. "Hey! We're waiting on you guys!"
"Be right there!" Night called back, shifting back to me with a worried frown. "Are you for certain that you aren't up for it?"
"One-hundred-and-ten-percent positive," I nodded. "You go on ahead. If I'm feeling at all better tomorrow, I'll head down there, aye?"
Night's response was a slow, understanding nod. "Right. And, uh, I'll pick you up something to eat on our way back," he commented, starting for the door.
"Burger, please," I requested, faintly regaining a smirk.
"Soup!" he asserted firmly, stopping at the door and looking back briefly. "Room service number is on the nightstand, too."
"I know," saying in plastic exasperation. "Go have fun."
"Just a reminder," he winked, taking the handle latch and turning it down, jarring the heavy door open and heading out. After it had closed, I could just barely hear the voice of Anchorage asking why I would not be tagging along, and Night explaining, fading as they headed to the elevator down the corridor.
And so began the long day of waiting for their return without a single clue of how to pass the time.
***
Minutes ticked by like hours, whilst hours went on for seemingly days. Not two hours had passed since my friends went down to the festival. With only half of a sleeve of crackers remaining to tide me over for as long as I could go without reading over the brochure for room service, and what ever program came on the television to keep me company, these next five or so hours might never end.
Remote in-hoof, channels never stopped switching. These days it seemed what cable had to offer failed to attract my attention, and what did pique my interest typically repeated itself every other hour—the channel that broadcasted nationwide weather forecasts and news stories that centered around it. While the weather has been a hobby of mine for years and never ceased to bring wonder to my eyes simply by looking up, to hear the same ponies drone on about flooding conditions near Mareami and a drought in the southwest on loop eventually grew old.
While it was less of a topic, Hurricane Aquarius remained mentioned by a few of the anchorponies and meteorologists that starred the broadcasts. The storm never truly made landfall, but caused damage in the sense of the storm surge it caused, injuries and even cases of drownings from rip currents, and comment of the Alder, which evidently became a world headline, along with the rescue part of the operation. For secrecy reasons, nothing further reached the media.
Remarks of the ship brought back unanswered questions of mine, and likely everypony else I was with that night. Who were those griffons? What did they want with the Alder? Why spare us?
The worst part of it all was comprehending that there may never be a definitive answer. Or, in the event that there was, it may be held above our heads tauntingly by the higher-ups. That would not surprise me in the slightest. Thinking on all of it worsened my migraine, much to my dismay. Evidently the worst times to delve into the depths of the mind and one's thoughts to pass the time are when you are ill.
One would also think that being sick meant easy sleep. In fact, it is precisely the opposite. Most over-the-counter medicines also label how even the slightest of a dosage can make me drowsy, or put me to sleep altogether. Whether or not that is the case (which it really was not), each attempt thus far to doze off has backfired. Oh, how obnoxious it is to be physically and mentally exhausted, but my body insists mandatory rest is utterly unnecessary.
Letting off a grunt of frustration, ultimately I decided against trying any further. To be met with similar results every time became distressingly pointless.
My ears suddenly perked upon hearing a hoof knock slowly on the room's door. Question arose, as did my eyebrow, knowing Night would not be knocking and would come straight in with his own key card—unless he managed to lose his somehow, which I wouldn't put past him. Even then, he could receive another one from the lobby. On top of all of that, it has only been a couple of hours!
Regardless, I eased out of bed, head throbbing with relentless aches and I let off a pained groan, taking gentle strides to the door and twisting the latch downward and opening it. My muscles tensed when I discovered my mother to be standing there, holding a little rectangular box lightly wrapped in gift paper. A small, genuine, albeit nervous smile held on her muzzle.
Stiffening my neck a little, looking down at her, I softly asked, "Can I help you?"
Tears sat in the shorter mare's eyes. The fur on her cheeks sat wetted flat from tears. Judging by the way she looked at me, I knew she had immediately noticed my ailment, but didn't bring it up. "I-I just... wanted to apologize for yesterday, S-Star."
I blinked slowly with a lack of care and drowsiness. "Okay. Thank you."
"A-and... I'm s-sorry for everything. I never wished for our lives to take such a drastic turn, to where you w-would feel that you could live a better life away from us so early..." she choked softly. "I-I love you, with all of my heart... I'm s-so happy to see you, all grown up... I just w-wish I could have been there to witness, a-and... I fully understand your reasoning behind leaving..."
Never in my life did the somber tone and the cracking of her voice, her sharp breaths, the sniffling, and the tears in her eyes fail to bring me to heartbreak. Worse knowing the way she had been treated days ago, plus how I'd just greeted her and had been ready to close the door on her, it tugged at my heartstrings.
I reached forth, pulling Mom into a gentle, but caring hug. With quiet sobs, she rested her cheek to my neck and looped her hooves around in return. Water slipped between eyelids after closing them, stinging my eyes and eventually slid down my cheek as we held one another.
"I'm sorry, too, Mom. I should not have treated you the way I did. That was... wrong of me."
"Please, S-Star, don't apologize. Y-you weren't in the wrong," she pulled back, her gaze lifting to meet mine, wiping tears away on either cheek with one hoof. "I-I should have stepped in years ago and taken action against y-your father for how he was with you. I h-hope you can forgive me, at least."
I responded with a gentle nod, and a meek smile. "I forgive you, and you only."
Her smile returned, thankful and trembling on her lips. "T-thank you..."
"To be quite frank with you—" I whooped, turning away and coughing into my elbow, sniffling. "—sorry. Honestly, t-this was the step we needed."
"I agree," her smile grew only a little. "Do you miss your friends?"
My head cocked. I looked at her, puzzled. "Huh?"
"You didn't get to go with them because of the way you feel," she frowned. "Got it from your father, didn't you?"
Lifting a hoof to my muzzle, I sniffed heavily, rubbing it and nodding.
"I tell him he needs to have a shot for his immune system to boost it. He doesn't ever listen."
"Yeah, well, what else is new?"
"It's going to kill him one day," she carried on, a light pain coloring in her voice. I nodded slowly. "I won't say he deserves it, but, perhaps it will teach him to listen."
"Won't matter if he is dead," I shrugged.
"Yeah..." her gaze lowered, fixing briefly on the package she carried. "Oh, of course. Here."
She handed the small box closer which, after a couple seconds of hesitation, I took gently and began to rip the paper off carefully. "I don't know what this could be, but, I hope this isn't what I think it is," I commented with a sheepish, weakened grin.
"No, no, it isn't an apology gift. I-I was hoping t-that, maybe, w-we could stay in touch n-now that you live... s-so far away."
Removing the neat layer of blue wrapping paper revealed the top of a smooth white box with a printed image displaying a black smartphone, trimmed around the edges with silver, and rounded in its corners. My eyes grew at the reveal, slowly looking up to Mom, who smiled and nodded, her ears pinned mostly back.
"H-happy birthday, sweetie, e-even though it is a few weeks early, and since, well... you will likely have gone back to Canterlot or Manehattan by that time."
"Oh, Mom, you didn't have to..." I sighed quietly, smiling weakly, pulling her into a thanking embrace, careful while holding the box so as to avoid dropping and breaking its expensive contents.
"I'm your mother. You deserve a little something for your birthday. Besides, I promised you a flip phone for your fourteenth, and I couldn't fall through with that promise. Now it is more of a necessity than a want," she gave a short laugh. "I'll give you my number before I go, too, so we can still talk."
"Thank you, Mom," I smiled, tightening my hold around her only gently. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, sweetie," she drew back, bringing a hoof to my cheek. "What's happened is in the past now. Let us leave it all behind and focus on the present."
The smile on my muzzle swelled. "I can't agree more."