Chapter 24
Broken Ansibles
First, there was the elation. Landing on Dignity, climbing off Scootaloo's back just so they could leap into a hug. The laughing and shrieking. “Wasn't that awesome!” The brief kiss. Was it platonic or not? Sweetie Belle climbing on Bounce's back, getting it overexcited to the point where it nearly put a hole in the ceiling with its thagomizer. At some point, Tom's weak protests fell away and he got pulled into a hug. Millie retreated to the cockpit and took the hovercraft forward.
The remains of the navy and its allies split into two groups, one to check the wrecks, and one to investigate the city. Sweetie Belle and the others joined the second group.
The docking tower didn't feel like Ilmarinen. Everything she'd associated with the place – the cacophony of machinery, the whirring chevaloids, the banter and arguments of ship crews and tower workers – had gone. Only the background noises remained: The shifting of the wind and occasional creaks from the tower's superstructure in response.
Crew from the fleet – ponies, griffons, minotaurs and others – stepped out from the other portals around the great circular room. The tower was otherwise empty. They arranged themselves into search teams. Sweetie Belle and others joined up with one. As they moved down the corridor to Ilmarinen itself, she noticed the looks she was getting. The mare who won the Battle of Ilmarinen
At the end of the corridor, the sphere opened out before them. Debris was spread over the structures below, glittering like frost.
There were bodies on the streets, lying alone, face-down with a bullet in the back of the neck. Not many – nowhere near enough to account for the population of Ilmarinen. Sweetie belle's team passed four before they found their first survivor – a pegasus stallion – peering out from one of the structures. When he saw them he pushed opened the door and asked, “Are they gone?”
“Yes,” said the officer leading the team, a minotaur. “Ilmarinen is back under our control. Who attacked you?”
Other citizens followed him out of the structure. The stallion seemed unsure for a moment. “Ponies. Crystal ponies.” He amended this: “But mostly chevaloids. The chevaloids turned against us.”
“The chevaloids?”
The stallion gestured with his wings at the cityscape. “All of them.”
“What happened?” asked the officer.
“I, uh …” began the stallion.
A griffon behind him said, “They abducted people.” She shrugged. “Hundreds of them. Chevaloids dragged them away. Ponies directed them. When someone fought back, they shot him. Said they'd kill anyone who resisted. Some did anyway, and …”
“Do you know where they were taking them?”
She shook her head. No-one else in the group did either.
It carried on like that: More survivors, hiding in groups or alone; variations on the same story. The chevaloids turned on them, took citizens. Sweetie Belle lost count of the details, but the faces stuck with her. Those who's seen friends and family shot or taken. Some tearful, some blank. Some hopeful at first, then not when they learned the abducted hadn't been returned.
A chill grew in Sweetie Belle's chest. “Saffron,” she said. “If those people were aboard the ship. If we killed them …”
“Then you made the best choice you could with the information you had at the time,” said Saffron. She manifested walking beside Sweetie Belle and touched her shoulder. “Buck up. I don't think they were.”
“Why not?”
“Two ships, remember? One ran off.”
The same worry had evidently occurred to the other search teams. A while into their search, a messenger appeared bearing news from another docking tower. A testimony from a pony there had it that only one of the attacking ships had docked. The other circled the city to defend it – and the ships holding the abductees had flown off to the south long before the assault.
The revelation, though something of a salve to Sweetie Belle's conscience, wasn't hopeful either. A good fraction of Ilmarinen's population, while not dead, was still missing.
The search continued, turning into an accounting for the dead and missing, for the damage to Ilmarinen itself.
As they moved to check on the mailing office, they ran into another team holding Lucille. “Our heroes of the day,” she said, looking from Sweetie Belle to Scootaloo. “Well done.” She offered a blue-tipped claw for each of them to shake. “Hinny's Revenge is still docked,” she offered in a conversational tone. “Crew's mostly there, but Gritstone isn't.” Her eyes momentarily went to one of the bodies lying in the middle of an intersection. “Have you seen anything?”
Sweetie Belle shook her head. “I'm sorry.”
“It's fine,” said Lucille. She looked around. “He gets into scrapes almost weekly, but I'm pretty sure the bastard's smart enough not to play hero if he knows it'll get him killed. Keep an eye out, would you?”
“Of course.”
The front of the communications office had been shattered: Shards of stained glass littered the foyer. Wrought iron curlicues held bits of the original image, of blue skies meeting green treetops. As she stepped gingerly over the glass, Sweetie Belle caught sight of another fragment, a phoenix head snapped off at the neck.
The contents of the front desk – where you bought ansibles or dropped off mail if you didn't have one – lay amongst the glass. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo and Lucille trailed their teams through a door that had been pulled off its hinges into the back room.
The ansible terminals would have been stored here, rows and rows of them on tin shelves, identity numbers stuck to the front of their trays, watched over constantly by staff who would check the number of each message and pass it to the right terminal as soon as it arrived. Now, the shelves had been torn down. The ansibles lay on the floor, some twisted and broken, numbers scraped away. The end of the room was blackened, the shelves warped. Someone had started a fire, but it hadn't spread.
“There aren't enough ansibles here,” someone commented. He was right, Sweetie Belle realised; the number of damaged terminals didn't match the shelf space.
Her team leader called on a number of his crew. “Count them,” he ordered.
The others checked the rest of the building. The records room had also suffered from a fire – this one more effective in its destruction. The room behind that was also filled with damaged ansibles – apparently this was where the news ones were kept. In the corridor just outside, Sweetie Belle ran into Captain Proper Order.
He met her eye. Standing, he had ten to eleven inches on her. “This was Blueberry Pancake?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
“I think we need to have a talk very soon.” He looked over to the other officers. “We've accounted for three members of the Council, and those on the Admiralty Board who remained on Ilmarinen. For the moment, the navy office is our centre of operations.”
The crew who had been counting the ansibles stepped out into the corridor. “Sir,” one acknowledged Proper Order, then continued, “We were right. There aren't enough ansibles, even accounting for those damaged in the fire. We're missing at least a quarter, possibly more.”
Proper Order stared at them, then at the officers leading the teams. “This could be bad. If anyone out there is still trying to use their ansible – and inevitably someone will be, those messages could go right to the enemy. I want a message sent out among all ships we can contact. Make it known that only direct ansible usage is safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
Proper Order turned back to Sweetie Belle. “Come to the navy office in twenty minutes. Bring whoever you think might help. We need to decide on our next move.”
As he stepped out, Tom's gaze leapt from place to place across the cityscape. Sweetie Belle knew the feeling – the sensation of a familiar, or almost familiar, place distorted into something new and grotesque. By now, teams of navy officers and volunteers moved back and forth, taking stock of the damage, organising the survivors.
The aelewyrms, having drunk about half Dignity's diesel supply, had fallen asleep. With Saffron's assurance that they'd happily be there for another twelve hours, Sweetie Belle had decided she wanted Millie and Tom with her too.
Tom's ears pinned as they passed a makeshift trolley stacked with bodies. “Oh, crumbs,” he murmured.
“You holding up okay?” Scootaloo asked him.
He nodded, ears still down. “I knew Amaranth would be dangerous when I signed up for the expedition. But … I never thought I see so many dead people in my whole life.” He looked around. “The expedition …”
Scootaloo put a hoof on his arm. “I know,” she said. “I haven't seen them, but … they're compiling lists. I think the Navy Office is actually the best place to be if you want to keep up-to-date.”
“Yeah.” said Tom. “I guess.” He turned to Sweetie Belle. “I appreciate you bringing me along, but … why?”
Sweetie Belle gave him a faint smile. “After all we've been through together?”
“Yes, but apart from sentiment.”
“You're good at plans. And figuring stuff out.”
“Ah.” Tom glanced at a volunteer team herding survivors through the streets. “Well, there is one thing I've been thinking about. Maybe you've realised it already.”
“Oh, aye?” said Saffron.
“What is it?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“What does Blueberry need to activate the Apotheosis Machine? Energy. What did she take from Ilmarinen? I think you said a thousand or so people.”
“Okay …”
“Finally, what did we find under the chemical mines?”
Sweetie Belle stared at Tom, then Saffron. “The life-force machines.”
“Yeah, that'd be my guess too,” said Saffron. “I did the calculations, and it works out. There's a lot of thaumic power in a life, and a thousand at once … Well, a suitable mass sacrifice, let's say.”
“Huh,” said Sweetie Belle.
“So, that's a yes?” said Tom.
She realised she'd been assuming the others could hear Saffron too. Why, she didn't know. “Yeah, that's it,” she told Tom.
The gates to the Navy Office had been torn away. But the flag remained, now at half-staff, and the domes were intact. It seemed oddly serene, given the destruction that surrounded it. The guards recognised her immediately. One stood aside, and the other offered to guide her to Proper Order. This small act of deference made her chest swell, like being shown into the VIP area of some performance hall or when her fans recognised her in Canterlot; and even though she knew the feeling was inappropriate, she couldn't make it go away.
They were shown into a room with a large semicircular table filled with people. Proper order, sitting on the right, was the only one she recognised. From left to right, Sweetie Belle was introduced first to the Council – two griffons, a diamond dog, a pegasus and a unicorn – then to the Admiralty Board – a minotaur, a griffon, a pegasus. By the time she had reached the end, she had forgotten all the names.
“First of all,” said one of the council griffons, “We should thank you for your service, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. Without your help, it is quite possible that we would not have any navy left by this point, even if we had won.”
Sweetie Belle gave him what she hoped was an appropriate bow.
“Still, even with this victory, we're not out of the woods.” The griffon looked around the table, then checked the papers in front of him. “So we're all on the same page, and to underline the scale of the attack, I offer the following numbers. Yesterday, Ilmarinen had a population of 3,700. Our current best estimates put the number of abductions at 1,200. The navy started with twenty-two battleships. We now have eight. Furthermore, one of our attackers is still out there. If it comes back, it seems to me that there's nothing we could do to stop it. At the very least, we'd lose what remains of our fleet, and that would leave us open as a target to every pirate this side of Amaranth. As it is, we're in no position to look after our allies.” He looked up at Sweetie Belle. “And, according to what Captain Proper Order has told me, that may we be the least of our worries. The details are a little sketchy, though, so could you fill us in on the details of this …” He checked his notes. “Blueberry Pancake?”
Sweetie Belle looked across the table. This was it, then. “I've got a qilin – the ones who lived here before us – in my head,” she explained, then added to Proper Order, “That's something I missed out last time. Her name is Saffron. She's the reason I know what I do about the technology here. Anyway … we think we know what Blueberry's going to do. There's a thing called the Apotheosis Machine. It will make her – or her boss – very powerful. More powerful than Discord. She's going to power it with the people she's abducted.”
Silence from the council. The griffon who had spoken opened his beak and closed it again.
At last, the diamond dog leant forward and cleared her throat. “I see. In that case …”
“You believe me?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Of course I believe you. This is Amaranth, dear. I can't speak for anyone else here, but I've been waiting for some sort of doomsday machine to pop up.” She smiled faintly. “Anyway. Blueberry Pancake has abducted our citizens and plans to rule the world. How do we stop her, and, if possible, get them back? I don't suppose we have another … flying snake?”
Tom raised his paw. “Aelewyrm.”
The council member smiled at him. “Aelewyrm, then. Only one of those, yes?”
“Uh, only one big ones. We've got hatchlings,” said Sweetie Belle. “I don't know how to stop her. Oh … there's one other thing. Apparently there's this dimensional barrier thing that's blocking the way.”
“Can we trust this to stop her?”
Sweetie Belle looked to Saffron, who had appeared beside her, and shook her head. “It might. I don't know.”
“Perhaps it will slow her down, at least. But it won't free our people, and it won't get her out of that ship.” The councillor looked around the table. “Suggestions? Anyone?”
“We may have to call home,” said Proper Order. “Equestria, Aquileona. They have a stake in what happens here.”
One of the admirals spoke up, “We've lost a direct ansible connection to Omphalos. The only way to send a message is by ship.”
“Then we send a ship,” said Proper Order.
“Omphalos is on the other side of Amaranth. That's a round trip of at least fifteen days, not counting time spent in the old world. And what would they be able to do? Alicorns can't come to Amaranth. No ship of significant size can get through the funnel in one piece.”
“Equestria and Aquileona may lack our adventurous spirit, but between them they have some of the most powerful magical artefacts, and nearly all of the most adept magic users. Given the impetus, they may think of something. They may succeed if we fail.”
“Do it,” said the diamond dog councillor. "Put an ansible terminal on a battleship and send it to Omphalos. Pass on the message to Equestria, Aquileona, and all the minor powers.” She glanced around her remaining councillors. “Any opposition?”
The griffon councillor who had spoken first said, “With the time delay, it may be pointless.”
“It may be. We can't rely on it. But I think the potential benefits are too big to ignore. Well? Any objections, speak now.” She looked around, then turned to the admiralty board. “Consider the motion passed. Get to it as soon as we're done here.”
The admirals acknowledged this.
The diamond dog councillor continued: “But we can't sit around for two weeks hoping this Blueberry won't find a way around the barrier. From everything I've seen, she's likely to find a way through it eventually. And until then, she'll be wandering Amaranth doing Sirius-knows-what with her ship. So: Ideas?”
Silence.
“We could go to Tanelorn,” suggested Tom. “It's where she got her ships, isn't it?”
“That's true,” said Saffron. “But, and I hate to say it, she knows a lot more than me. She's been working with the knowledge of a dozen repositories. I haven't seen that city in a while … I didn't even know it was still around until I saw it in her head.”
“Did you see anything else?” Sweetie Belle told her.
“I've told you all I know,” said Saffron. “I can find the city for you. I can show you some empty shipyards. Or, y'know, I could show you Apotheosis Machine if you wanted.”
Sweetie Belle stared at her. “That .. that's it.” She saw the expressions of the councillors and admirals and said, “Sorry, talking to Saffron. But I have an idea on how we can catch Blueberry! I go to the Apotheosis Machine and open it for her!”