The Legacy of The Shattered Dream

by Natomon01

Chapter 3: Dangerous Games

“The Hangover Hospital.” That’s what everyone called it anyway. If nothing else it was a good place to get a late-night snack. Culinary cures and other methods of assuaging one’s overindulgence were available until the wee-small hours of the morning when they would be replaced with greasy and fattening breakfast choices.
Lieschter wasn’t a habitual drunk, and in point of fact had always thought such concepts as this place to be a joke, but that night, more likely the early morning, he was grateful beyond measure for the plates of distractions he’d ordered to help him forget his own pain and suffering.
Earlier that evening at the Rex he’d made the mistake of ordering a flagon before ordering his food. That was mistake number one. The second was misidentifying his target and sitting down next to the wrong griffon. The one he’d sat down next to was the friendly type and had proceeded to involve Lieschter in a spate of drinking games. By the time he’d managed to get away and move to the same bench as Set Beak he was already at least four-deep. Thirdly, and finally , even after setting himself down next to Set Beak and starting a conversation, he’d fumbled his attempt to spike Set Beak’s drink. In a fortunate moment of clarity he'd made the excuse that he was a bit too drunk to tell one mug from the other and his intent had been to “sweeten” his own beverage. Set Beak, upon realizing what it was that had been added to his mug, actually asked for more!
Though Set Beak did get the lion share of Light Paw’s tongue-loosening solution, Lieschter had been forced to drink far too much on his own. Now he sat, more accurately had collapsed, sprawled in a thankfully-padded seat in the aptly-termed Hangover Hospital across from a disgusted and exasperated Silver Dawn. He’s just put his head down on the table, trying to block out the now-overwhelming lights and sounds around him, when Silver jabbed him with one of her talons.
“Stay Awake!” she hissed.
“Please. I’m just resting my eyes” he pleaded.
“Stop your belly aching.”
“It’s not my belly that hurts.”
“If you fall asleep you won’t remember enough to report back to Light Paw when she gets here. Now open your eyes.”
“Is the room still spinning?”
“Yes!” came the sarcastic reply. “One of these days they’ll probably fix it so it doesn’t do that anymore, but for now you'll need to deal with it!”
“Deal with what?” someone else asked.
Lieschter opened one of his eyes to see Blood Moon walking up to the table. The apprentice sentry took a seat and eyed the plate of fried matter that was there.
“What are we 'dealing' with?” he repeated.
Silver Dawn just shook her head.
“The room is spinning.”
“Really? Hadn’t noticed” came the jocular reply. “So does that mean you’re not going to touch the rest of these?”
Lieschter grunted his answer and pushed the platter towards the young griffon.
“So…how was supper?” inquired Blood Moon.
“Loads better than his night at the Rex apparently” Silver replied matter-of-factly. “Also, probably a good deal better than what you’re eating right now. Do you even know what that is?”
“No, and I don’t care either. I’m hungry and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me. I missed my supper, and I’ve been sneaking around in the dark for hours now. I think I’ve earned the right to stuff my beak with whatever I please.”
“You found something helpful then?”
“Maybe. Light Paw will have to decide when she gets here.”
“Maybe? You don’t just ‘maybe’ find something when you were only sent to look for one thing. What exactly do you think you found?”
Lieschter opened his eyes, his interest piqued. Blood Moon glanced around the tables. There were only a few other patrons besides the three of them. Most were at various levels of intoxication. Apparently satisfied that no one was looking right at them, he produced a pouch of sorts that he’d been carrying. As he set it on the table, taking care to hide it from view behind their water pitcher, both Lieschter and Silver could hear the ring of metal from inside. Silver Dawn sat forward in anticipation and Lieschter forgot his head as they watched Blood Moon removed the strap to expose the contents.
“Light Paw was right!” Silver could be heard as she tried to keep her voice calm. “It’s a good thing you found these.”
“I don’t know about that” Blood Moon replied scratching his head. “Do these look like all of what you saw?”
“More or less. They’re zebra currency minted from gold. That was definitely what I saw the other day. Why? You don’t seem convinced.”
“That’s because they’re fakes” he replied bluntly.
“Fake? You mean counterfeit?”
“No. I mean fake. These wouldn’t fool your average zebra.”
Lieschter reached into the bag and withdrew one of the coins. He held it up to scrutinize it carefully. Though, it was difficult for his eyes to focus.
“They look real-enough to me” he said finally.
“Firstly, you’re drunk, and second, you’re looking at the face of the coin. There’s not much difference in that view. Try looking at the edges.”
Again Lieschter looked hard, this time at the coin’s profile. Silver Dawn took another and joined him.
“They’re quite rough, but aside from that it doesn’t really say too much. They probably just weren’t buffed and polished after being minted.”
Blood Moon was already shaking his head.
“Molded. Not minted. There’s a difference, and I should know after all. My father is a goldsmith. I spent enough time helping him out with his forge when I was young that I know what I’m talking about. Zebras mint their coinage by striking. They use a pair of dies to press the image onto each side of a gold or silver blank. Those things you’re both holding were cast out of molten metal. The rough edges are from the edges of the molding dies. If they were genuine they’d be smooth.”
Both Lieschter and Silver stared at Blood Moon with rather blank expressions; neither sure what to make of what they’d just been told.
“Fine!” Blood Moon snorted in frustration as he grabbed one of the questionable gold pieces from the bag. “If you need further proof, here it is!”
Taking the coin he placed it on the table and began to scrape the face with a small steel knife he carried. At first only little shavings and gold dust could be seen, but after a moment he held it up to show his companions. It took a moment for the surprise to register, but both Silver Dawn and Lieschter were amazed as they stared at Blood Moon's undeniable proof. The gold covering had been stripped away to reveal a dull-silver color.
“They’re made of lead. They’ve been coated with gold somehow. I don’t know what kind of process might have been used, but I’ve never seen craftsmanship like this before. We need to show these to my father and mother. They might know something.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t” came Light Paw’s unexpected and stern voice from behind them.
They turned to see that the architect of their current situation had very easily approached from their collective blind spot. She quickly sat down, just barely waiting for Silver Dawn to make room for her.
“You really are ‘Light Paw’” Lieschter said wryly.
“You weren’t that hard to approach; on account of how drunk you are” she quipped as she hurriedly grabbed for the counterfeits both on the table and in the talons of those present. “And these two don’t have a hunter’s peripheral senses.”
As she spoke, She stuffed the pieces back into the pouch that Blood Moon had brought them in; all but the one that had been damaged by Blood Moon's exposition. “What have you done?” she groused. “Did you damage any more of them?”
“No. Just the one.”
Light Paw sighed in relief as she re-tied the drawstring and pushed the bag back in Blood Moon’s direction. He accepted it back with visible trepidation.
“I suppose that if one of you was going to figure that out it would have to be the goldsmith’s son, but it’s not like I could've send you to the Rex.”
She eyed the gold piece carefully before tossing it into a nearby open fire pit.
“I may be drunk” Lieschter began “,but I’m reasonably certain that planting fake evidence against someone you’re trying to defend from the same is, at best, a contradictory move.”
He was met with an annoyed look.
“You’re right. You are drunk!”
“I’m more confused then ever now.” Silver Dawn clutched her head. “Why would someone who wants to frame Aureate smuggle in fake stackets? As evidence they wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny. What’s furthermore, the genuine article is ubiquitous in Deep Harbor. ”
“These aren’t what you saw the other day. I’ve had them in my possession for some time now.”
“Then…” Blood Moon began “where did they come from, or rather who made them? How?”
Light Paw just shook her head.
“I couldn’t begin to answer where or how, but I got them in a trade I made with Larder.”
This news surprised Lieschter very much. Larder was the type of griffon that most others avoided.
“Well this is a side of you I’ve never seen before” he said. “Most never go near that character. I’ve often wondered if he’d made inroads within the guard.”
“It would behoove you to crawl back underneath your hangover right now” she growled. “I’ve never violated my mandate to secure and protect our den. Larder conducts business. I was a customer. Nothing More! As for why I wanted those at the time,” she pointed to the bag of stackets, “that’s immaterial to what we’re trying to accomplish now, and the less you know the better. Please just accept it when I tell you that this could offer our mutual friend an out.”
Lieschter leaned forward putting the tip of his beak just inches from Light Paw’s. It took great concentration to keep himself steady as he delivered his ultimatum.
“No. We already know too much to be your pawns in this endeavor. We’re not going any further into this unless you start telling the truth.”
It looked for a second as though Light Paw was going to snap at her former subordinate, but surprisingly, she didn’t.
“Alright. I’ll tell you what’s going on, but you three may not like it.”
“I already don’t, but what exactly are we trying to accomplish?” asked Blood Moon. “It seems like all we’ve done is to dig Aureate Solarclaw another pit to fall into.”
“You’re getting it” Light Paw nodded. “Whether or not there’s a plan to plant evidence against Aureate, there most certainly is a conspiracy of some kind, and right now it can’t go forward as long as there’s nothing.”
“I recovered those things in your friend’s dwelling. It seems like there’s plenty of evidence.”
“Exactly! Evidence that I-… we control now. That potentially gives us control of the narrative. After we have that, what do you think the guild’s going to do? Admit the truth?”
“They’ll just plant their own! Won’t they?” Silver added. “This makes no sense if we’re to keep it hidden.”
“This makes perfect sense” Lieschter countered.
Suddenly, three sets of eyes were on the one who’s haze of intoxication seemed to be thinning at last. Lieschter locked his gaze on Light Paw as he continued.
“We’re not going to keep this a secret. Are we? I remember what you said about how ‘we have to tell better lies.’”
Light Paw nodded slowly; her eyes betraying astonishment at Lieschter’s insight.
“To be more accurate, I think our plan is to tell the Guild’s lies better than they do, and our assignments tonight were geared towards that end.” He turned to Silver. “Let’s recap. What was your assignment tonight?”
“I was asked to get my father to talk about what he thinks is going on within the Guild right now.”
Lieschter nodded. He reached for the water pitcher and poured himself a cup before continuing.
“And I was asked to figure out what’s tumbling around in the rumor mill and also who’s been pushing it. All of these are what she” he pointed to Light Paw somewhat accusingly “would require to start things herself. Is that right?”
“Yes. It is” Light Paw nodded back at Lieschter. “I’m a little amazed that you, of all griffons, figured that much out on your own; while drunk too.
“So…how do we use what we’ve gathered tonight?” asked Blood Moon. “Where do we go from here?”
“Jail” Light Paw simply said.
“What?!” the two youngest exclaimed in unison. Lieschter simply nodded. He almost cracked a smile, finding their reaction strangely amusing.
“Well,” he began “you don’t think that she called us to meet here simply to compare notes do you? We’re going to be apprehended and interrogated. Caught with the goods, as it were. I’d say they’re already waiting outside for Light Paw to give them the signal.”
“This is insane! I’m not going to be incarcerated for someone else!” Silver Dawn almost spat with panic mounting in her voice. “Even if it is for someone like Aureate Solarclaw.”
“I would” Aureate’s lifelong friend said calmly. “Would she do the same for me? I think she might.”
“What if Blood Moon and I don’t want to go along with this? What if we refuse to lie for you?”
“Then tell the truth. I’ll figure out how to use that. You’ll all be exonerated eventually anyway. We just need to start making noise before the Guild does.” Light Paw began to slide off of the bench as she spoke. She looked at them all with compassion. “I’ll take care of you all. I promise. Now, try to run please. It’ll look good.”
In retrospect, Lieschter thought, perhaps it looked a little too good. No sooner had Light Paw spoken that he promptly braced himself against the wall and kicked the underside of the table. The roughly-sawed wooden surface catapulted right into Light Paw’s face. Spilling the various dishes and other objects onto the floor in a noisy crescendo. The two others bounded away. Blood Moon was making a dash for the entrance while Silver Dawn spread her wings and tried to fly out of an open front window. They never made it out. The door’s lattice covering suddenly swung shut in Blood’s face while the window shutters closed in Silver’s. Less than a minute later that all three of them had their faces held to the floor as their wings were tied back in a very uncomfortable position and collars fixed on their necks. All the while in the background the establishment’s owner was noisily demanding compensation from the guard leader for everything that had been damaged.
They were eventually led away by the guard detachment. The rest of the night was a blur for Lieschter, but he remembered thinking one thing above all else as he was finally allowing his eyes to drift closed. Not just anyone would do this for someone else. Was this for his best friend, or was it just his excuse to avoid those wedding plans that they'd made for him? Marriage was supposed to be like prison. Wasn't it?

Charlie tugged on the silkscreens to ensure they’d been properly anchored at all points. When he was satisfied he turned towards Kearn and motioned for him to come.
“It’s secure. Bonnet and mask please.”
Kearn approached with the final pieces of Charlie’s “moonsuit” regalia. The unique garment had been produced to help protect what, at the time of the ship’s initial construction, had been some of the human’s few articles of clothing. Like the silkscreen dust barriers, it too was made from a densely woven silk that refused to allow small airborne particles to attach themselves. It covered Charlie’s entire body and anything he wore. It included also a pair of gloves, boot covers, and the head and face covers that he’d just donned. If nothing else, it at least made Charlie’s self-appointed stewardess feel like she was taking good care of him. Charlie hated it. It would quickly become hot and then damp with his own perspiration. It was also quite noisy.
Having applied the masking garments, Charlie turned to address Kearn’s engineering crew; all of whom had gathered within the screened-off perimeter of the inner platform. They too were decked out in equally uncomfortable protective gear.
“Alright everyone. I’m sure that our recent spate of accidents is leaving you all on on-edge. You've all done well, though. I’d even go one-farther and say that some of you’ve been rather selfless and heroic. But right now I’m laying down the law and Kearn is going to enforce it. None of you is to cross the black line unless I say so.”
As he spoke he motioned to a black circle painted on the deck. This had a diameter roughly that of the Assembly and denoted the area to be avoided while the inspection hatch was open.
“Now” he continued “I’m going inside for a look, and if everything is alright-”
“Unlikely” Charlie heard Kearn mumble under his breath.
He shot the zebra an annoyed look before continuing.
“That is to say, I want it to be alright. Hopefully, whatever caused all that fuss is easy to fix. Yet, my point is that none of you are to place yourselves in danger!”
To highlight the danger Charlie selected what he thought was an appropriate analogy.
“So you’ve all seen what harm electricity can do if you don’t respect it. The Elements are the same way.”
Their heads nodded in agreement, but one, belonging to a zebra named Gow, simply stared back at him questioningly.
“If you’ve got a question that’s germane then ask” Kearn said so that everyone could hear.
Gow raised his forehoof with some hesitation.
“Electricity is dangerous to everyone. Right?”
Charlie and Kearn nodded in agreement.
“So if the Elements are dangerous in the same way then why is it that they don’t hurt you?”
“This is hardly the time to ask things that we can’t answer” Kearn huffed in annoyance.
“But you said that-”
“You could ask if it had anything to do our current activity!”
“It’s not a bad question” Charlie added, trying to take the edge off of Kearn’s gruff response. “It just can’t be addressed in only a few words.”
Though disappointed, the zebra nodded reluctantly. Charlie couldn’t really blame him. He too wished he knew the answer as well.
“Moving along” he said resuming his previous speech. “No one crosses the line or touches anything that I drop out of the bottom unless I or Kearn instruct you to.”
All present stamped their hooves once in unison and stood at attention to indicate their readiness.
Charlie nodded and turned to Kearn.
“Let’s get this over with.”
They walked towards the Harmonic Assembly. The inspection cover was still open. Having been lowered out of its normal position just prior to all hell breaking loose the previous evening. It’s surfaces were now picked clean of the earlier dust particles and the polished metal that composed it now shone like the day the smiths had made it. Charlie knelt down and examined its profile. He was happy to see that the clockwork locking mechanism was still in good shape. The cork-wood gaskets were also in fine shape as well. Though, they were a little dry. He quickly pointed this out to Kearn.
“Alright” he thought to himself. “Enough stalling. Here goes.”
He donned his dust goggles and looked up into the sphere. There wasn’t much to see from this angle. His view was obstructed by the Element-Primary presser-plate; a flat piece of brass that formed the base of the internal pusher assembly. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss at the moment. He put his hand up and felt the interior of the sphere. It felt smooth; not grainy as he’d expected. He looked back at Kearn, holding up his gloved hand.
“No dust” he said.
Kearn winced. This meant that Ripple’s field had indeed penetrated the interior of the Assembly. But had she touched any of the Elements? Charlie couldn’t be sure until he was inside. He carefully maneuvered himself until he was lying on his back underneath the access. From there it was a simple matter of extending his arms and legs into the opening and lifting himself inside.
It was cramped, the air smelled stale, and overall felt like being inside of a fishbowl. He pushed himself upward by digging his heels against the smooth interior until he could grab at the edge of the presser plate. He then used that to pull himself up past the edge to get his first glimpse of the Harmonic Elements themselves. He was hardly prepared for what awaited him.
He must’ve been silent for a while because he soon heard Kearn’s voice asking him what he could see. “A good question” he thought to himself. He simply tapped the bottom of the glass with his boot heel to indicate that he was alright. He wasn’t ready to describe the interior of the Assembly to Kearn until he could take in the sight himself.
With the exception of the bottom area where Charlie had entered, the entire interior of the sphere-shaped lead-crystal container was now studded with what had to be thousands of crystal protrusions; not unlike the ones that had infested Ripple’s horn. He pulled a magnifying glass from his breast pocket and examined a small section of them, taking in their various facets. They were quite beautiful except for the fact that they didn’t belong. It was tough to get perfect light since the only source were the lanterns hung outside of the Assembly, but the overall impression was that of being inside of a large geode. Yes. A geode. That was it.
He turned his attention towards the element support construct. This polished-marble creation consisted of five branches of varying length. It looked vaguely tree-like. Each of its branches extended outward with one of the elements securely cradled at its terminus. Yet now, the branches had extended too far outward! Not just Element-Amber as previously suspected. Each of the five secondaries had been forced into the sphere’s containment wall. Large gouges in the sphere’s interior surface proved this. Then there was Element-Primary. The lavender-colored gem was supposed to be at its neutral position at the top of the support construct, but Charlie’s heart felt like it was about to stop as he realized that he couldn’t see it at all!
He began struggling with renewed fervor as he worked his way up into the space between the branches. Presently, he found himself standing by the trunk and pulling the side panels off. He let out a sigh of relief as he removed a final access to reveal the Amerigo’s single-most-important component. The final piece had dropped into the center of the assembly. From that it wasn’t hard to figure out why the other five had reacted the way they had. But to end up in such a position Element-Primary would need to have forced itself there with each of the other five and the control plunger pushing back; no doubt causing significant damage in the process.
He stared at the wrecked machine for several moments until his concentration was interrupted by someone’s hoof tapping on the exterior of the sphere.
“Probably Kearn just being impatient” he guessed. He was about to snap at the Zebra but suddenly realized just how important this would be to his colleague. Kearn was the chief-engineer.
He dropped to his knees and began pulling away the copper pins that held the different sections of the presser plate together. Kearn would need it gone if he was to see what had happened. Only then could he start pulling together replacement parts.
“Kearn. I’m making a hole for you. Just wait a moment.”
After removing close to five sections there was a clear view straight out of the bottom. Kearn’s head could be seen looking back up at Charlie.
“Put the rest of your mask on!” Charlie almost yelled, but kept his voice down to avoid hurting his own ears within the confined space.
Kearn didn’t listen. In fact he did the opposite. The engineer’s eyes went wide and he promptly launched himself up into the already crowded space. Charlie was so surprised at this that he almost forgot to protest but remembered half-a-second later.
“Have you lost your mind?!!” he hissed as his friend. “These things can kill you!”
“Only by direct contact” Kearn countered.
Charlie examined the zebra’s position and could see that he’d positioned his body well away from the terminus of any of the branches and was supporting his weight by leaning on the unexposed section of the trunk.
“Holy Toledo!” The zebra uttered the phrase he’d borrowed from the human rather comically.
Charlie’s patience was running too thin to laugh, though.
“Ok. You’ve seen it! Please get down now. Get me the capsules and I’ll make the Elements safe.”
Kearn ignored him.
“Not until I’ve seen what’s happened to the shocks!”
“Why do we even have these rules?” Charlie grumbled as he worked his way down to the inspection hatch. He poked his head out of the bottom and could see Scotch nervously pacing around the circular black line.
“Hey Scotch.”
Scotch stopped pacing and looked up at him expectantly.
“I need you to go to the special-tools cabinet and bring us the element caps.” Charlie paused and went over things in his mind. “I’ll also need a mallet, a pry-bar, and…a chisel.”
The pegasus’ eyebrows shot up in response.
“It’s not worth explaining right now” Charlie said shaking his head. He tossed his master key at Scotch’s feet. “You’ll need that to unlock the cabinet. Also, have someone get Crack down here. I need to discuss this with him.”
“I’m already here” came Crack’s voice from behind.
Charlie craned his neck to see. Though, his position, hanging upside down by his legs from one of the support construct’s branches, made that difficult. Crack walked around to face him.
“Do you need anything else?”
Charlie shook his head.
“Get your job done” he said to Scotch.
Scotch nodded and moved off. As soon as he had, Charlie motioned for his second-in-command to move closer. The griffon carefully crossed the black line as though he were walking on hot coals.
“So?” he asked as soon as he was close enough. “How does it look?”
“It’s not exactly pretty. It’ll take some cleanup, but it’s not a disaster. Though,” he added “I think Kearn here is ready to cry.”
“I am not!” came the Kearn’s muffled response.
“What’s he doing in there!?” Crack exclaimed. “You haven’t capped the Elements yet!”
“This is hardly the time for caution” the zebra responded.
“Just the same” Charlie answered back “you can’t do anything but look until I get the caps on the elements. Just come down already. The three of us need to discuss things at length.”
Charlie had given up trying to read the zebra, but his words seemed to have gotten through as several moments, and several bruises, later Kearn and Charlie were sitting underneath the sphere with Crack.
“I actually came down here to give you an update on the two chuckleheads that got sent to the infirmary” Crack began.
“They have names don’t they?” Charlie replied. He tried his best to grin; showing how he wasn’t the least bit afraid for them. Though, it was a bit of a lie. “What did Lance say about their condition?”
Crack shook his head in a similar wry-sarcastic fashion as he spoke.
“Lance said, and I quote, ‘Forget Charlie’s treatment orders! He’s not a physician!’ Then…” Crack paused for effect. “Then he started doing exactly what you’d suggested for Ripple.”
“Of course” Kearn nodded. “What about Turner? How did he fare from whatever he suffered?”
“That’s what I’ve come to talk about. You see, while Ripple is in a rather tranquil sleep-state Tuner is anything but. He woke up on the way to the infirmary, and he’s so filled with energy they almost had to tie him into the bunk.”
“Energy?”
“Yes. He’s like some foal who’s had too many sweets. Lance and Salt are convinced it’s just delirium setting in, but….
he grabbed my talon in his telekinetic field while I was there and when he’d pulled me close to him he started babbling a set of nonsensical numbers.”
“Numbers? That’s a little vague.” Charlie grimaced. “You do realize that the majority of what Turner does is numerical. If I had to guess I’d say that he is delirious.”
“Please let me finish” Crack continued. “I went up to chart room where he’d been working on retracing our path, just like you’d asked him to. He’d been laying out our assumed course on the map and then he was confirming his assumptions mathematically. I’m no maths aficionado like him, but he’d been keeping such good notes I was able to complete his most recent projection.”
Charlie and Kearn leaned in closer, as if Crack were telling some new campfire story that had never been heard before.
“And?” Kearn asked.
“And suddenly all the numbers made sense. He was trying to tell me that he knew what caused the issue with the Elements, or more accurately, he knew where it was.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m not sure, but Turner most certainly is.” Crack looked up at the assembly for a second before nervously glancing back at Charlie and Kearn. “What worries me is that before I left the infirmary he said something final that I’d initially dismissed as the same insanity he’d been spouting, or what I thought was insanity, but now it seems to make more sense.”
“Just tell us! Please!” Charlie interrupted. “I don’t have Turner’s supposed level of energy right now.”
“He said that ‘they’” Crack gestured towards the Assembly “had made it clear. I think he means that the Harmonic Elements told him the map coordinates, or at least how to locate them.”
“You’re right” Charlie nodded in agreement. “That does sound insane. Even for that unicorn.”
“I think you should talk to him. It might at least snap him out of whatever state he’s in. He was almost asking for you in a way. He was also saying that you” he gestured towards the human “’had to be clear’ and that your gift was your curse.”
“I think he drew that from my Spider Man stories,” Charlie almost chuckled as he stood up and peeled off his gloves “and again I agree with Lance. I think he’s delirious, but I will go see him. All of his closest friends should. And…” he turned to face the Assembly “since the three of us are here right now you can help me put the inspection cover back on while we’re gone. I’ve had enough drama for a bit.”
Drama was all Charlie could think of as he made-safe the Platform and made his way to the infirmary with his first-officer and chief-engineer in tow. The events of the last week, not the least which had been in the last twenty-four hours, made him want to climb the nearest ladder to the weather deck. He imagined himself taking up position on top of one of the rudders and simply screaming his frustrations away.
“Why God?! Why me?! Why always me?!!” he imagined himself saying.
The sheer thought of such a ludicrous and ridiculous escapade made him smile. Maybe he’d have to work it into one of the annual dramas he’d write to keep the crew entertained. Sometimes he’d even act in them, but there were too many uninitiated members of the crew for him to show his face, or even his form, at the moment. They were all supposedly still off the ship at the moment. Though, they would be on the way back soon. The ship’s captain could move freely right now, but while underway he had to be careful when moving about. To that end he would rely on those he already trusted to help keep himself concealed.
As they approached the infirmary they were passed by Salt who apparently was on her way back from her and Copper Lance’s supply closet. The mare nodded to the human, but she eyed Charlie with a strange look as she passed.
“What’s that for?”
The nurse paused and looked back at him.
“I just sutured the strangest bite-mark I’ve ever seen” she snorted. “That is, I’m quite familiar with the teeth that made it, but for it to end up on Ripple’s ear is something I’d never expected!”
“I’m sorry about that, but it was the option that was likely the easiest to recover from. Would you rather I’d broken her horn?”
“No” she sighed. “You probably did the right thing. My mother used to pinch mine and my sister’s ears if we’d been bad. It made us almost collapse every time.”
“How is she?” Kearn asked.
“I gave her four stitches, but time will have to tell. We decided to draw on the good stuff to help make her comfortable and ward off infection.”
Charlie, Crack, and Kearn looked at her saddle bags to see two of Copper Lance’s special wound dressing kits; something that they actually had very few of at the moment.
“What about her horn?” Crack inquired.
“No change there” she said shaking her head. “Copper Lance may know how to treat impingement, but neither of us have ever seen it that bad. We removed a few of the smaller crystal points, but we stopped when we realized just how deep the others went.” She started walking towards the door again but called over her shoulder. “You’ll have to ask Lance about the rest.”
She disappeared inside. Charlie and company followed her. The infirmary was deserted now. Though, two patient bays directly opposite of each other had their curtains drawn. They watched as Salt disappeared behind one of them. Copper lance was at his desk just to the left of the door they’d entered. He looked up from the book he’d been studying.
“What’s up Doc?”
“Shhh!” Lance hissed as he motioned for them to be quiet. “You’ll wake him up!” He motioned towards to opposite bay which Charlie had guessed must have had Turner sequestered within. “I only just got him to fall asleep.”
The rest of them nodded.
“How’s Ripple?” Charlie asked.
“We’ll…” Lance began “apart from what you did to her ear and the condition of her horn I’d say she’s fine. Her life’s not in danger in case that’s what you were asking.”
Charlie nodded, but the doctor wasn’t finished.
“My worry is how to get those crystal points removed from her horn without causing permanent damage.”
“What sort of Damage?” asked Crack.
“I’m first and foremost a battlefield doctor. Which, in addition to triage, means I’m better with wings than I am with horns.” He motioned towards the references he was studying. “I’m having to learn as much as I can about how a unicorn’s horn is cared for, but according to these, if we’re not careful we might cause her to lose her magical ability, if she hasn’t already.” He sighed as he shut one of the books and pushed it away. “What I need is to talk to a university-trained unicorn doctor.”
“Fresh out of those!” Kearn snarked.
Charlie thought for a moment before answering.
“If you had one to consult with…do you think they would have the answers you need?”
“Possibly” he said scratching his head. “For now she’s comfortable. Though, she hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Yes. Speaking of which…” interjected Crack. “We came to see Turner. We thought it might help.”
Copper Lance huffed with frustration.
“He’s been like some histrionic hyperactive colt ever since he woke up initially. I think he must have tired himself out finally. I can tell you that the confusion is likely wearing off. He did start speaking in complete sentences eventually.”
“And I can Siiing!” the unicorn’s voice interrupted them.
Turner’s sing-song voice caught them all of guard. While Charlie, Crack, and Turner looked on in astonishment as four hooves hit the ground and the curtain around the stallion’s bed was flung wide open, Copper Lance eyed his nearly-out-of-control patient from underneath a barely restrained storm cloud of frustration. From the opposite side of the compartment Salt’s head appeared from behind a patient curtain.
“Back in bed!” she snapped at him. “If you don’t stay there I’ll tie you in!”
Turner’s ears, and even his mane, drooped as though he was a naughty child. He complied and sat himself back under the covers. Charlie walked over towards his bedside followed by the others. Turner’s demeanor perked up immediately when he saw them all together.
“Ah! You all came! Great!!”
He waved both hooves wildly as though he were trying to get their attention from miles away.
“I have it! I have what you asked for and then some! But you’ve got to hurry before I lose it!”
“I’d say you’ve already lost it” remarked Kearn.
Turner either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him.
“Its all so clear-!”
Charlie held up his hand.
“Hold on. The only thing that’s not clear right now is you. The rest of us need you to slow down and let us ask you a few questions.”
Turner shut his mouth and waited.
“Alright” Charlie said trying to sound calm and soothing in his tone. “So you said that you have what I asked for. Did you mean that you’ve finished your projections?”
Turner shook his head vigorously.
“No! I mean, I was mostly done, but I was shown the rest.”
“Show? By whom?”
“Them!” he pointed aft. “The Assembly! The Shards! The Elements!”
“The Elements aren’t alive” Kearn snorted. “What do you mean they told you?”
Turner scratched his head for a moment before he answered.
“They’re not alive, but we are! Besides, the ship’s Difference-Engine isn’t alive, but it tells us things. We pose it maths-based questions, and it tells us the answers.”
Charlie scratched his head now as he tried to rationalize what his friend was saying. Turner’s statement actually did make sense on a certain level. The Difference-Engine was quite possibly the Amerigo’s most significant achievement. It served as the ship’s mechanical calculator and was used to compute navigation coordinates and astronomical tables; an utterly unique piece of machinery for this world. Some of the crew even wondered if it was “alive” after seeing what it could do.
“Are you saying that the Harmonic Elements calculated our original position? Like the Difference Engine?”
“Our position? No! No! No!” Turner took off again. “Nobody will care about our position when we know where to find the other end of what caused our little mishap the other day.”
“If by ‘mishap’ you mean whatever nearly knocked us from the sky, then that might be useful information” stated Crack. “Provided it’s true of course.”
“Turner, the Difference-Engine is a mechanism. At best it can only do what it’s told” Kearn said as he continued to play devil’s advocate. “You dial in the numbers, by design I might add, and then, if the thing doesn’t jam or eat your punch card, you’ll get a solution; a solution that’s only as good as what you put in.”
Theatrics notwithstanding, it was becoming apparent what their friend was trying to convey despite the lack of credibility brought on by his behavior.
“So…” Charlie formed his words carefully. “Let me just go out on a limb here, but it sounds as if you’re telling me that the Elements… no the entire Harmonic assembly was placed in it’s current state when it was acted upon by some outside force?”
“And…” Crack picked up “that because of this, the entire Assembly is now pointing back towards the point of origin?”
“And you’ve been granted a glimpse?” Kearn finished for them. “If that’s the case, I suppose it’s easier to follow.”
They stared at Turner but he didn’t seem to be listening. He was staring past the them at the wall. His attention span apparently waning.
“Focus please!” Charlie said snapping his fingers.
“But I’m just so hungry. That picture over there is making me-”
“You’ll get food when it’s time” replied Copper Lance in his most conciliatory tone.
Turner seemed to pout for a few seconds, but presently looked back up at them as he seemed to be struggling to place his thoughts back in order.
“What were we saying?”
Crack breathed deeply in exasperation.
“Do you believe that the Harmonic Elements have conveyed information about the location of-”
“No no no! Not another shard!” he said interrupting him in mid sentence, but he appeared to think for a moment. “At least… I hope not. Well, not very likely. I mean possibly? But if you say it like that it doesn’t sound or feel nearly as miraculous as it felt like a little while ago. Besides, for everyone who’s suffered through a couple chapters of expose I think they deserve a truly-fitting reveal.”
“What are you on about now?” Crack asked; quite confused by Turner’s words.
“I wouldn’t expect any of you to know” he shrugged. “I’m not even certain I do.”
Charlie brushed off the last comment as a product of the unicorn’s altered state, but at the same time, of more concern was his earlier reference to an element shard.
“Now I know you’re not playing with a full deck. We have all six of the Element shards.” Crack stated as he looked at Charlie for confirmation. “Don’t we?”
Charlie looked back at him trying to mask his own surprise at Turner’s statement.
“Are you serious about another shard?” Charlie inquired slowly. “Kearn is right. It seems apparent that there are only six of them, and that we’ve got them all. There was a time in our ongoing quest that I would’ve taken that notion quite seriously, but that was before we found Element-Aqua. Trust me Turner. There are only six of them. The integrated geometry confirms it, and we’ve got them all.”
Turner looked crestfallen as he stared back at Charlie.
“It’s alright” Charlie said as he tried to calm his slightly deranged friend. “I can see that you’ve had an epiphany of sorts, but let’s be reasonable. Isn’t it more likely that this ‘insight’ was brought on by your experience when helping Ripple?”
“We’re very grateful for your risking your own hide by the way” added Kearn.
“B-but it’s s-so clear” Turner stammered, his jaw quivering like a child who’d just learned there was really no tooth fairy.
Charlie continued. “You keep saying that. ‘So clear.’ But it seems like the only thing that hasn’t been ‘clear’ is you. You’ve said some things that really make one stop and think. While it’s true that we used the previous versions of the Assembly to find the other shards and then add them, we eventually found them all.”
Without warning, Turner’s mood made another about-face and he immediately grinning from ear to ear.
“That’s it! I think I’ve got it now!”
Everyone else exhaled in a frustrated sigh.
“Now I know why I wanted to sing! I had to banish that awful music we were making just before the accident! It was so slow and it made my horn feel like a tuning fork every time we plucked the string.”
“I have some work I should be doing right now.” Kearn said as he started backing away. “If you’ll please excuse me.”
“Yes. That’s right” Turner answered back as he nodded. “After all, it was the Elements that were plucking the string every time we passed it. The notes!” He placed his hooves over his ears. “They just got higher and higher every time it happened, and the tambre was so rough! I remember it all now!”
At this point even Charlie was losing patience.
“Turner. You were on the bridge, at the chart station, while you supervised the flight deck when the accident happened.”
“Precisely! I still can’t figure out why it didn’t bother me at the time.”
Abruptly, Kearn, who had been slowly making his way to the door turned and walked back. In fact all of them gazed back at the unicorn with renewed interest.
“What did you say?” asked Copper Lance.
“Well it hurt at the time, but for some reason I couldn’t feel it. Until…”
“Until you remembered” Kearn finished the sentence for him.
Though to any average individual this statement might have seemed outlandish, it was now the first clear message they’d gotten from their colleague. On the Amerigo it signified a condition known as “The Slap.” It eventually affected most unicorns who tried to work on the Platform. Some lasted as long as a year with seemingly no problems, but then they would claim they couldn’t keep doing it. When pressed some of them had explained that the Harmonic Assembly was a source of physical discomfort or, in milder cases simply emotional distress when it was in use. However, what made it truly odd was the claim that they’d been unaware of the discomfort until suddenly remembering it. The more severe cases involved those that went the longest without getting “slapped.”
All five looked at each other for a few seconds. Charlie found himself perplexed. Turner didn’t work on the Platform. He purposely avoided it if he could. How could it have happened to him?
“So…” started Crack “you’ve been slapped then?”
“Who, me?” He shook his head. “I’ feel just fine about the Assembly, but I do remember that there was such noise during the survey run. I would hear it every time soon after we crossed the grid-twenty line in the flyover pattern. I just now remembered how horrible it sounded.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what did ‘it’ sound like?” Kearn inquired?
Turner suddenly took on a much more contemplative expression. In fact his entire demeanor seemed to shift as he scratched his head thinking for a moment before answering.
“It wasn’t really a sound that could be heard. Does that make any sense?”
“About as much as you unicorns describing the Slap, but please continue.”
“If I had to draw a parallel it’s as though I wasn’t the one hearing the music, but I was the one making it.”
“The musician’s point of view then?” asked Charlie, but Turner began shook his head.
“Oh no. Not like that. Even the musician can hear the music, but his instrument can’t. His instrument is what’s making it.”
Turner paused again and adjusted his posture in the bed. The others tried their best to make sense of what he’d just said.
“Then…” Charlie began again “when you say that you… were the instrument, does that mean that you were the one producing the ‘noise’ that you’ve been talking about?”
“No, it wasn’t me. I just was told what it felt like. Call it empathy.”
“Told…” Charlie repeated “by the Elements?”
“I can’t think of anything else, but what’s important is how it felt. How it felt to be the instrument that was being played. It was so painful.”
“Painful?” asked Lance. He’d said little up till now, but the mention of pain was something that he his keen ears were attuned to.
“Yes. Any instrument can be played in such a way that sounds happy or sad or even angry, but until Charlie here shared some of his so-called music with us, I’d never thought that an instrument could sound as though it were in pain.”
“I hope you’re just referring to Ozzy Osborne” Charlie responded shaking his head. “Everyone here knows that there’s a right way to play an instrument and a wrong way.”
“And a destructive way” Turner added. “Let me ask you a question then. Why can’t you play your Fender anymore?”
“Because the strings wore out. Also, because I wanted the parts in the amplifier for other things.”
“And…?” Turner smiled mischievously.
“And because I wasn’t that good.”
“I’m convinced you put that instrument into an early grave. Some of the strings broke because of the way you plucked them. That’s what we were doing every time we crossed the same grid-line. It was like a string was stretched across the sky and we would pluck it every time we passed. As we moved along its length the pitch changed. It became more and more harsh. Until eventually we reached near the end and when it was pulled back it broke before it could release.”
Charlie turned to Crack, who seemed lost in thought. Suddenly he looked up. The griffon and the human locked eyes.
“Tether effect!” they both said at the same time.
“Do you think it’s possible?” Kearn asked. “What are the odds of running across a marker line; let alone here?”
What Kearn was referring to was an old, and almost forgotten, method used by griffon guilds and combines to mark territorial boundaries by superimposing map coordinates and lines upon territorial skies. They were a form of visual magic, and supposedly could be detected by using a special talisman not unlike the reckoner stone; or “Dreidex” as it was known on the Amerigo. They were no longer used for reasons of efficiency. They were difficult to maintain, and had been used against the clans during the Great Sky War. They were all supposed to have faded and disappeared centuries ago along with the old pre-war mapping craft. The area that had been the object of the Amerigo’s survey mission was now quite uncharted for a variety of reasons. Their purpose there had been to remedy this. For a modest fee of course.
“There’s no way it could’ve been anything like what your suggesting” Kearn eventually said shaking his head. “There’s no way” he repeated resolutely.
“How many other invisible lines in the sky could there be?” Crack answered. “That’s the only thing I can think of. Besides of course, the Flint Legacy.”
“Look, I’m not discounting either possibility. I’ve confirmed the assembly was acting strangely at a regular interval. So it’s possible that something was tugging at Element Amber whenever we passed by, but even if it was an old marker line, why would it be an issue? They’re the most benign form of magic anyone would ever run across. They’re in a lesser category than fireworks.”
“You’re both asking the wrong question” Turner interrupted as he seemed to be growing slightly agitated in yet another strange mood swing.
“Oh?” the griffon and the zebra responded.
“You ought to be asking what happened to both ends of the string we broke?”
Again they all started at him unsure of what he was getting at. Turner sighed, becoming more agitated an annoyed.
“Charlie! What happened when you broke your last string? The one that snapped while you were tuning it?”
Charlie’s hand immediately went to the side of his neck where he’d once been cut by the guitar string when the short end of the break had snapped back. This had caused the now five-stringed instrument to end up on the wall; in a place of honor of course.
“It hurt.” Charlie answered finally. “I-… Wait. Do you mean that this thing… whatever it is could have done some harm to someone?”
Turner’s mood made another abrupt about-face as he began bouncing up and down and nodding despite the grim implications of what he’d suggested.
“This is all just ridiculous speculation” Kearn interrupted. “We have no way of knowing that anything of note took place if such a thing happened as you suggested. Doesn’t this sound just a little bit trekkish to all of you?”
Everyone nodded at this, even Turner.
“But…” Turner started again. “Isn’t it worth considering how much damage was done to the ship’s inner mechanism? I mean- I guess I doubt that anyone was immediately affected. It’d have to be the luckiest- uh… unluckiest coincidence if someone was standing or flying at the spot that got struck. Think of the really interesting part. What got left behind, or better yet destroyed?”
Cracked jolted when he heard this. They could all see visible signs of worry crossing his face; with good reason too. What Turner had just alluded to was euphemistically referred to as a “broken-spell.” Unlike what was thought of in a fairy tale’s context, a broken-spell in this case was just that. It didn’t just go away. It could potentially be more dangerous than its original intent. In Charlie’s limited understanding he likened it to a broken glass bottle. A bottle was a tool. It’s purpose was quite clear. It would be quite harmless both before and after the contents were removed Provided of course, it were done the right way. If one were to break the bottle to get at the contents they might lose some or all of what was inside, but the real issue would be the danger of broken glass.
The thorns were supposedly composed of the fragments of broken spells. This could make some of their effects unpredictable at best. Crack’s concern wasn't unwarranted since it would be inflammatory at best to suddenly have a “briar-patch,” as they tended to call them, spring up anywhere beyond the foothills of the Black Mountains.
The Great Sky War, of some one-thousand years prior, had reshaped the world in more ways then one. One of the most profound blights was the “High-Hedge,” as it was known on the southern, or equine side of the Black Mountains. On the northern, or the griffon side, it was known as the “Glass-Curtain.” Though it wasn’t impassable, it was considered too dangerous to try by most. This had in-effect turned one large continent into two. The only way was to go around. The thorn barrier was despised by both griffon and equine alike, but both sides took comfort in knowing that the craft had been destroyed, and no further thorns could be produced.
Charlie’s contemplation was interrupted as Crack began pacing; a nervous habit he’d mostly been able to break himself of. He stopped and stared back at the rest of them. His tail still swished back and forth betraying his mental state.
“You’re not going to like this. Nobody is, but… we need to go and make sure that Turner’s worst-case scenario isn’t the truth” he said finally.
“Go?” Kearn asked. “Go where, and how do you even know?”
“He knows the same way that I do” Turner said nonchalantly. “He saw my work on the charts from just before I’d remembered all those things that I’ll probably forget about tomorrow. Once you know what you’re looking for it’s pretty easy to find it.”
“I have a feeling…” Charlie gritted his teeth “that it’s close to a settlement? Too close for comfort?”
Crack shook his head, but paused and thought for a moment.
“The nearby den isn’t what I’m worried about.”
“Then… what?”
Crack set his beak and lowered his eyebrows in a way Charlie could only liken to Donald Duck staring down a certain mischievous pair of chipmunks.
“I’ve tried to explain to you the ire that my people feel towards those with hooves. Haven’t I?”
They all nodded as though a weapon had been pointed at their collective throat.
“You should know that when I was young, and all the way through my academy days, that wasn’t the case. We had no hard feelings towards those of other races. There was fear born of ignorance, but mostly a sort of cautious curiosity had begun taking over. Yet… then the Peak war happened, and in the twinkling of an eye hatred towards all others was at a premium.”
“I know” Kearn answered. “You speak like this when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
“After what we went through eight years ago, I don’t think that anyone on either side of the hedge wants a repeat of the Peak War” Copper Lance added. “That is what you’re suggesting yes?”
“I’m not worried about veterans like you and I. We’re not stupid enough to do anything like that again. The reality is that’s precisely the reason we’re not really welcome within our respective societies anymore. It has nothing to do with supposed maladjustment. We’re dangerous because we know that the real ones at fault were the Griffon Guild for provoking the fight and the Celestial Quorum for keeping it going while the zebra trade unions fanned the flames!”
“Would you please calm down and stay focused” Turner said in a strange ironic twist.
“Sorry, but you know how strongly I feel about all that.”
“Let’s just focus on why you’re so worried about the possibility of broken-spells in the middle of nowhere” said Charlie.
“Because… I don’t think that this ‘nowhere,’ as you say, is quite as remote as it once was.”
“Meaning?”
“With the exception of Lance here, you all saw the order details we received though our current client’s agents. The valley in question was a stated focus area; as were three others. Those requests bore the hallmarks of a plan to open up corridors of movement or trade routes by any other name. That means way-stations, and eventually lowland settlements.”
He paused to let it sink in.
“We griffons, with the exception of my den and a few others, may not like the lowlands that much, but we’re willing to tolerate it when profit is involved. In as little as five years we could be seeing all of that, and I would normally feel quite pleased. Crownwing is doing a fantastic job patching up the economic holes in his new confederacy. It almost makes me want to return home.”
The griffon smiled as he appeared to be remembering some of the things he liked about his homeland.
“Then you’re afraid for those who might come to be affected a few years in the future?” Kearn asked. “That seems quite noble, but why are you being so paranoid in the first place? This whole line of reasoning has been based on a rather unhealthy portion of what-ifs.”
“The Guild” Crack responded quite simply. “They’re not really taken that seriously anymore, but they still have enough power over hearts and minds to cause serious trouble for all. If anyone discovers, or worse is harmed, by a fresh collection of damaged and dangerous spell fragments you know they won’t just let that go to waste.”
Everyone was fully aware of the once-noble Mage Guild, that in years past had possessed nearly absolute power over the various griffon clans. They had diminished significantly over the last few centuries, but they still held clout within griffon statecraft. So much so, that despite how much the various oligarchs within the confederate legislative body despised it, they’d been forced to include them within their initial charter.
“You all know that they’ll do one of three things depending on the political climate as it relates them and their influence” continued Crack. “One, is they’ll ignore it and simply write off anyone who has any misfortunes. Two, which is the most likely, is that they’ll use it as political leverage with their Celestial-Quorum counterparts in any possible future negotiations by threatening them with the possibility that the equine magic guilds never really gave up the art of thorn-crafting and they’re trying to poison griffon territory. Finally three, which I’m the most fearful of, is that they’ll use the hatred they very expertly planted within our young ones to call for another useless war!”
“But that’s suicide!” Turner exclaimed. This time at least his reaction seemed appropriate to the situation.
“Is it really?” Charlie interrupted as he stared off into space.
Moments later he realized the others were staring at him waiting for him to finish.
“Suicide” he repeated. “The question is whether or not such a move could be classified as suicide or statecraft-strategy.”
Crack was nodding vigorously.
“That’s just how most of the Guild tends to operate” he agreed. “Any political clout they do possess is due to the fear that they may still have what’s been described in the history books. The truth is that their prowess is only a fraction of what it used to be. Not to put to fine a point on it, but if we look at more recent history we can see a pattern of conflict surrounding anything or anyone that bares their teeth or talons at them. When they can’t win a fight they’ll just start another one, real or ideological, with the hope that everyone forgets the first.”
“But still!” Turner interjected. “You can’t be serious about starting another war!?”
“They weathered the last one just fine. Didn’t they?” Kearn, who up to this point had said little regarding Guild policy, tersely added. “In fact, if I’m not very much mistaken, the rumor surrounding the triggering events of the Peak War was that someone may have figured out how to neutralize the thorns for good.” He almost chucked as he continued. “It would be an ironic turn of events if it turned out that the conflict had been started over a mutual agreement and not a disagreement. Wouldn’t it?”
“Mutual agreement?” Crack asked in confusion. “What do you mean ‘agreement?’”
“You all know as well as I do that the thorns have remained in place because they’ve dictated the shape of the world for almost a millennium. Both griffon and equine foreign policies are dependent on them. The party line on both sides is that there’s no way to remove them, but what if someone tried?”
“It would throw world-order into question then” agreed Charlie.
“Correct. It most certainly would. There are many on both sides who would welcome it, but inevitably there are those who would find themselves threatened.”
“The Guild most definitely” Crack added.
“Forgive me for interrupting again,” Turner said with some conviction “but I think Kearn was bringing up the Flint-Nation theory because there might be an opportunity here.”
“What opportunity?” inquired Charlie.
“Well I suppose it’s just a thought,” the zebra continued “but what if Flint Nation did leave behind a legacy? A legacy beyond the ruins of Flint Capitol.”
“Legacy? Of what sort?”
“Well…” Turner took over “ if I remember anything that my father taught me, it’s that spatial magic of the sort the thorns are composed, or more accurately what would be needed to eliminate them, doesn’t just go away. If someone doesn’t clean it up properly then it usually stays.”
“What’s furthermore,” Crack suddenly jumped in “if Flint Nation was clearing some of the thorns they would have started near their own capitol; likely to remove some of the local nuisances.”
They all exchanged glances that varied from worried, to excited, and just outright confused, but it was Copper Lance who took the opportunity to finally state what they were all thinking.
“Do you think it’s possible that what we stumbled across was that…” he hesitated, obviously searching for the correct phrase “that methodology? If it’s potentially so beneficial, could we afford to let such a thing stay secret? If that’s what we ran across of course?”
“Finally” Crack breathed in satisfied vindication. “There was a reason I was bringing up the Flint-Legacy possibility.” The rest paid little attention to him, though.
They all gazed at Charlie. It was decision time and no mistake. Charlie didn’t mind being in charge, but at moments like these he found himself being forced to step outside of the usual dynamic that he enjoyed with his friends. They were asking for instructions on what to do. It was time to be the Captain.
“I don’t know” he replied after several seconds.
They all looked at each other somewhat confusedly, but before anyone could answer back he continued.
“I mean I don’t know yet, but I think I’d like to find out.”
That answer seemed to satisfy them as they nodded and grinned at each other.
“So we’re going to investigate then?” Crack asked.
Charlie nodded.
“But if we’re going to search for Crack’s ‘briar patch’ or Turner and Kearn’s ah… ‘hedge cutter,’ for lack of a better term, then that means very low altitude in Skyfire territory; possibly even landing there. I’m not going to just arbitrarily put the Amerigo in a position where our stealth and secrecy would be significantly compromised.”
“Then I guess I’ll call a department conference later today” suggested Crack.
“Good idea.”
They all turned to leave, but stopped when Turner tried to follow.
“You’re staying in bed for the rest of the day!” Salt’s voice was the first to answer.
Turner relented and flopped back into the cot.
“Now, be good and I’ll see that you get something to eat soon” she added with satisfaction.
The others nodded and began to file out.
“Is there anything you’d like me to do while I’m languishing away down here?” the frustrated unicorn called to Charlie as he was about to walk through the door.
“Just listen to Lance and Salt for a change” he called back. “I need them to give you back to us. I have a feeling that you'll be needed in the near future.”

Light Paw had actually never been inside Larder’s house before. The reason for this was mostly the same reason that any griffon in good standing with the Maestros, Matriarchs, and the Guild would have for avoiding it. To preserve one’s personal clout. In the current political climate, freedom of association had become a luxury not enjoyed by those in her profession. Yet despite this, certain griffons, Larder among them, openly flaunted their own disdain for such trappings.
It was at this moment that she found herself within the aforementioned social outcast’s gaze. No one was certain as to his actual age, but Larder was at least middle aged with a moppish tri-colored crest. He could very well have been younger than he looked, though. His usual demeanor and energy seemed to suggest a level of maturity that his love of tobacco and rumored love of drink had obviously not advanced as quickly as his physical appearance.
“So you did it” he stated with a mixture of pride and amusement in his tone.
“Yes. I did. Now tell me why I just sent my comrades to be incarcerated!?”
“Please calm down” he said dismissively. “I told you that you don’t need to worry about them now that they’re in a place the Guild can’t reach them. You do, after all, trust the enforcers who’ve taken custody. Don’t you?”
Although Larder was more than capable of disguising his eastern accent, he was allowing his voice to escape his beak with a tranquil flourish that was a characteristic of his mother tongue. Light Paw had to admit that it was soothing to a certain extent. The words wafted towards her much like the smoke of the tobacco leaves that were balanced within the speaker’s beak.
Larder must’ve noticed his newest accomplice’s preoccupation with his vice as he raised his talon and plucked out the roll of leaves. He stubbed it out in a dish on his table and continued speaking.
“If you didn’t want to trust my judgment then why did you come asking me to help solve your problems? I’ll remind you that I’ve never lied to you before.”
“To the best of my knowledge, neither I nor anyone else I know has ever given you the chance” she scoffed. “I know next to nothing about you except that you’ve acquired a reputation as a griffon who can solve problems.”
Light Paw was exhausted from the events of the last evening. She'd become frustrated enough to begin second guessing her decision to involve anyone else; let alone the most enigmatic and perhaps least-respectable of Stone Capitol’s inhabitants. At first it had seemed like a stroke of genius that she should enlist the one griffon who was always a free agent when it came to alliances. He wouldn’t have second thoughts about working against the seemingly omnipresent Guild. However, aside from that fact, what did she really know about him?
Larder was Rumored to be a Guild agent within some circles, a fact that Light Paw knew was false. She did however know that he was a contraband smuggler. His name, ‘Larder,’ was only something that others called him on account of the fact that he always seemed to have a surplus of almost everything; from goods to information. He had just shown up on the eastern highway some five years ago and entered town pulling a travel wagon bearing the crest of the Dawn Imperium. This had caused quite a stir since most had never seen an imperial griffon before. They seldom were seen outside their lands due to the secretive nature that they’d adopted over a century ago. Even at the height of the Peak War, eight years prior, there had been no response from the most distant of griffon lands. Yet, there he had stood, and he’d wasted little time in setting up a market stall next to the rest of the more-local traveling vendors like it was the most natural thing in the world.
At first, simply an idle curiosity for most of those visiting the markets, he’d begun to make a name for himself pedaling strangely detailed maps and charts. Other curiosities included different types of fine paper, writing implements, and well-made optical lenses. Most saw them as an accessory to the maps he sold, but after he’d shown some youths, herself included, that they could be used to light fires, he ended up earning some enmity.
When a fire erupted and destroyed several of the merchant stalls, Larder’s included, it had been blamed on him. Those around him demanded that he compensate them for their losses. That fast became their mistake. Through use of his own silver tongue he managed to goad them into settling the supposed debt by visiting a local, and somewhat illegal, gambling establishment. Whatever had happened inside wasn’t widely known, but those who’d participated left with less than they’d entered. Though, according to some, more than they’d deserved. Having been found guilty of nothing, whether or not that was the truth, Larder had settled down for a long stay; having purchased the deed to a house and a private box at the local assembly with the money he’d gained.
As to how he continued to support himself, none could answer. Rumors abounded when it came to Larder; from those that said he was just a smuggler, a spy for equine lands, or even a mage. Everyone did know at least one fact about him. He simply wanted to be left alone and live without being harassed, and most did just that; all but the most adventurous or rebellious. Light Paw had never believed that she would be one of them.
His home’s interior displayed little to answer some of those burning questions. It was a remarkably austere dwelling. There were a few scattered pieces of furniture around the common area; such as the table that separated them. Oil lamps were perched on a desk and chest of drawers. Their light glinted off a set of brass and copper water taps that were visible in the next room. Larder seemed to have running water. Probably from a cistern on the roof. While not unheard of, such things were uncommon. Though, aside from the on-demand water there was little else in the way of luxury.
Larder seemed to be following her gaze because he motioned towards the washbasin she’d been staring at.
“I brought those with me when I came here, in case you’re wondering. It takes a smith of higher caliber than even your husband to work with metals like those.”
“Were they-… are they important to you?”
He nodded.
“Once you’ve tasted the good life you don’t just give it up. I’ve been to places where nearly every home on the street has had these fixtures. But…” Larder stood and walked to the other side of the room as he spoke. “We can discuss indoor plumbing another time.”
He reached the wall and pulled aside the plain-looking tapestry that covered it to reveal several tall bookshelves. Light Paw almost gasped in surprise. She had seen many books before, but they had nearly always been simple scroll-based ledgers, or the occasional hard-bound tome which would be read from on high days and festivals. These were different. Even the plain ones were a feast for the eyes simply from how cleanly and perfectly crafted their covers were. The edges of the pages had been squared, and each leaf within them was the same size as its brothers. Some were trimmed with what looked like gold. Others still had ornately-decorated binding with designs that had been carved into or painted on by someone who must’ve been a master artisan. Script from dozens of languages, some she recognized and some she’d never seen before, adorned the spines of the nearly three, perhaps four, dozen treasures that occupied the shelves.
“You asked if my water taps were precious to me.”
Light Paw nodded without taking her eyes off the wall.
“Imagine how I must feel about these.”
He let his words sink in before turning his attention towards the shelves again.
“Why are you showing me these? It seems naive to let another griffon in on just where your most precious things are kept?”
Larder simply chuckled as he selected a codex bound with a black-colored material.
“I didn’t mean the paper. I was referring to what’s on it. I’ve memorized a large portion of it.”
He turned and placed the book on a small table nearly and started flipping through its pages.
“You see I’ve also been to places where objects like these are so numerous that it means practically nothing to have them, but it means everything to possess what’s inside.”
Light Paw could hardly pay attention what he was saying. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Larder had in his possession something of greater monetary value than ten years worth of her old hunting pack’s kills! Even then, it was money that none of the team would ever see in one place. She wondered how someone who was supposedly a sell-out could care so little for the wealth such things as these represented.
“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you showing me these?”
He looked up from the table for a moment before continuing his activity.
“Fostering a trusting relationship I suppose” he answered finally. “All lasting relationships are built on trust. You chose to trust me earlier today when some of your supposed-allies turned you down. So now I’m choosing to return the favor.”
He looked up again. This time putting his eyes on Light Paw in a soft, but at the same time firm and resolute gaze.
“Right now you’re thinking that this new relationship will be some grand zero-sum game, and that you and I will be trading favors to stay equal. I’ll stop you right there to tell you that’s not the rules I live by.”
“Than what do you live by?”
“Good question. I suppose…” Larder pushed several pages aside to reveal one with several underlined words. “I suppose it’s like this” he cleared his throat as he read.
“’If anyone wants you to travel a distance with them you should go with them for twice that distance.’ Or ‘You should be prepared to give to anyone that asks you, and if anyone wants to borrow you shouldn’t turn them away.’”
Light Paw thought for a moment.
“Strange words. What are you reading?”
“I think they're various proverbs of a sort. It’s undoubtedly translated from some other language. If it’s a poem that fact might explain why it doesn’t rhyme.”
“What language?”
“I have no idea!”
He beamed as he spoke. His face looked different with a smile. It made him look a good ten years younger.
“But…” Larder continued “It’s still beautiful, and in a nutshell this tends to be how I try to live.”
“That’s a laugh!” she snorted with thinly-veiled sarcasm. “Everyone around knows that you’re not rich for nothing!”
“Everyone?” Larder’s eyebrow shot up as he gave Light Paw a wry smirk.
This time she couldn’t help but laugh.
“You expect me to believe that the king of the local gray-market is nothing but a misunderstood altruist?! Your cunning probably rivals that of Solarclaw’s uncle! I’ve seen you profit, and I can guess what your methods are.”
Larder’s composure didn’t alter one bit as he weathered, or perhaps just ignored, the last statement. He continued staring and then waved his talon at her with the same blase demeanor as he turned to put the book back on the shelf.
“It is true that I’ve been know to skirt the line a bit. One might even say that getting so close is breaking it anyway.” He turned back to face her. “I do conduct business, some of it quite profitable, that’s out of the normal purview of more ‘respectable’ entrepreneurs.”
He paused and let his words sink in.
“Is that what you wanted to hear? Because I can make our new relationship based on other things rather than trust. My point in choosing to reveal these things to you was to make sure you know that you’re not indebted to me.”
Light Paw stared for a moment before answering.
“I don’t believe you” she said bluntly. “But that won’t not going to be a problem. Will it?”
He sighed and turned to replace his bookshelves’ concealment.
“Will it?” she insisted.
“Of course not. You’ll at least trust me as far as our current collaboration goes won’t you?”
She nodded.
“No offense, but I already know that you’re different than other griffons. I just find it difficult to figure which direction you tend to lean in. I don’t know what you’re up to right now, but I’ll at least get something that I want out of it. So what’s our next step?”
“Our next step…” he turned back towards her again, but unexpectedly gazed past her towards the house’s entryway. “Our next step would be to let Aureate Solarclaw into the house before someone sees her.”
Light Paw whirled around to see a hooded-and-cloaked figure standing at the threshold. The individual pushed back the rest of curtain that covered it and entered. She realized, after they peeled back their hood, that it was indeed Aureate.
“Aureate! You fool! What are you doing here?!”
“I came because I was asking the same about you!” Aureate countered.
It was clear from her expression that the younger griffon was holding back tears of rage.
“What do you think you’re doing with him?! Larder is bad news and you know it! He’s already betrayed us!”
Aureate reached out to strike, what up to that moment, had been her beloved friend and mentor. Light Paw almost accepted it, but instinct kicked in and she grabbed for the outstretched talon. In a quick gamble about Aureate’s emotional state she yanked her surprised friend in as close as she could and wrapped her forelegs around her. It paid off. Aureate did the same and very unexpectedly began to cry. Now it was Light Paw’s turn to be surprised. Nothing made Solarclaw the Aureate cry! Even when she’d been a first-year huntress she’d silently endured every test and all the accompanying, physical, emotional, and verbal abuse; even graduating to dishing it out herself eventually. This turn of events had to be ill news!
“Aureate. What’s wrong!? What did…?” She looked up at Larder, locking him in an accusatory gaze. “What do you think Larder did to betray us?”
“Both of you keep your voices down.” Larder interrupted. He’d begun pulling a set of heavy winter curtains over the windows and the door; likely in hopes of dampening the ruckus. “Both of you come over here and sit at the table.”
Light Paw released Aureate and led her over to Larder’s table. She pulled out a seat and brushed aside the small dishes filled with ash and half-burned leaves. Larder sat down as well.
“Now. I’d like to know just how do you think Larder has betrayed us?” She asked again.
“Yes” added Larder as he began rolling some more leaves. “I’d like to know that too.”
Aureate breathed deeply and looked back at the two of them, her usual composure rapidly reasserting itself.
“I saw the arrest. I saw you betray my friend and your apprentices.”
Light Paw groaned and clutched her crest in frustration.
“I needed you to be at home with the only ones that I trust to protect you above all else! I don’t care if your relationship is strained! They’ll do just that!”
“And I remember what you said last evening. You said that you’ll do what we can’t” Aureate retorted. “I needed to know that you weren’t going to do anything detestable on my behalf!”
“So you snuck out to spy? I thought our relationship was built on trust!”
“Words to live by” Larder interrupted as he trimmed his smoke at both ends.
Light Paw ignored him.
“But none of that supports your accusations? The Arrest was supposed to happen.”
“Then…” Aureate pointed at Larder “was he supposed to pay the Sheriff then? Because I saw him do just that when I followed everyone back to the main constabulary. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him.”
Light Paw turned to Larder who was preparing to light up using the table’s small oil lamp. She pushed the flame away before he could.
“You said that you trusted them to keep our friends safe.”
“Oh I do” he replied rather nonchalantly. “The sheriff tends to be very trustworthy as long as he’s paid on time. He wanted an advance, though; something I was happy to do.”
He looked up at the two of them.
“Don’t look so astonished. He’s a typical griffon. Besides, now your trio of friends will be a bit less uncomfortable in there. The Guild will be most displeased when they see how well they’re being treated, and how little access that their auditors will have to them.”
Larder was correct. Though it was an unpleasant revelation it shouldn’t have been unexpected. Light Paw swallowed hard as she and prepared to tell Aureate what was almost a lie.
“I warned them so they’d know it was going to happen, but you weren’t supposed to find out for a while longer.”
“Stop” Larder interrupted as he rescued the lamp from Light Paw and Aureate’s side of the table and finally lit up.
He puffed a few times before continuing.
“Our plan depends on her ignorance of what’s really going on here. If she knows too much there’s no plausible deniability. Though,” he frowned “it may already be too late.”
“I’m sick of this already” Light Paw said. “We’ve only barely set things into motion and I don’t think I can keep up the charade. We’ll just start telling lie after lie if it spins out of control like it feels. And-”
“Wrong! The Guild is telling the lies here. The beauty of our plan is that the theatrics we’re orchestrating will so confuse their perception of what the reality really is. They’ll change their lies to compensate so quickly and recklessly that they’ll put themselves in a corner. They may even end up telling the truth without realizing it! It will be beautiful to see them looking like the desperate fools they really are.”
Aureate simply sat there with confusion crossing her face.
“I have no idea what’s going on” she said eventually.
“Good” Larder smiled. “That’s how it should be. Now please allow your friend to get you home before the sun gets too high and you run the risk of being identified.”
“I don’t think I should until you tell one more thing.”
“What is it?” he sighed.
“Tell me the truth of this one at least. You paid the Sheriff to look after Lieschter, Silver Dawn, and Blood Moon. But did you pay him to look after my mother and father as well?”
“Of course not. There’s no need as far as I can see. Why?”
“My family’s home is being watched.”
This did seem to evoke some surprise from Larder.
“It’s being watched?” he asked slowly.
“Yes. They weren’t there when I left searching for Light Paw, but when I was returning, what had to be after midnight, there they were. I circled and counted at least three of them. That was when I went to confront you,” she pointed at Larder” and I found Light Paw here too. I… I thought for sure I’d been betrayed by at best you Larder, or at worst both you and my friend. That’s why I lost control after I came in. I’d normally use a blade to settle betrayal, but I’ve never been forced to pull one on a friend before.”
All three were silent for a moment. Larder broke the silence.
“Your foolish little decision to leave your shelter last night may be a blessing in disguise. Someone, and I think we all know who, is going to use your mother and father as part of their narrative against you. Now we know, so maybe we can use it to our advantage.”
“How?” asked Light Paw.
“You’ll need to give me some time on that.” He looked up at the intensifying sunlight from a small window in his loft. “Which shouldn’t be difficult considering that you’re probably expected back at your post very soon. “You” he turned to Aureate “can stay here. It goes without saying that you shouldn’t go back.”
Both of them nodded.
“Please listen. We’re going to do everything we can to help you. So just do as I ask and stay here, out of sight. If you choose not to listen to me you could at least listen to your mentor. Now, the day is starting soon and I’ve got things to do. Some of which will be important to our best-laid plans.”
As he spoke he stubbed out his smoke, collected the trays of ash, and threw them into his fire pit. He then turned to walk out of the door.
“What exactly are you going to do?” Light Paw inquired.
“I…” he turned and stared at them resolutely. “I’m going to go do the things that you can’t.”

“Let’s get started!”Charlie raised his voice to get attention.
The wardroom was filled with a mixture of earths, pegasi, unicorns, zebras, and griffons; all of them sitting around the long table. Those who couldn’t fit at the table stood along the wall. Each of those present was either a head of his or her respective department on the Amerigo; or their direct adjutants. They were also some of Charlie’s most trusted crew members outside of Crack, Kearn, and Turner. In turn they were trusted completely by their own subordinates. It was rare that they were all called into a single meeting, and because of this fact had been murmuring to each other exchanging thoughts about the events of the last day-and-a-half. This, coupled with the events involving the Elements, had cultivated a rather tense and pensive atmosphere.
Each there immediately stopped talking and looked at their captain with expectation when he spoke. It was clear that speculation, not all of it grounded in fact, was beginning to set in. Charlie racked his brain for a moment trying his best to start things off, but the best he could come up with was a line used in what had to be one of the worst sci-fi movies in film history.
“This is rumor control. Here are the facts” he started. “I’m sorry that there hasn’t been good communication between departments and workshops, but we made some mistakes after we landed. Those mistakes started with me for not keeping us in a state of full readiness. We were caught off guard when our misinterpretation of the Harmonic Assembly’s malfunction turned and bit us in our collective face.”
They all continued staring back at him. Charlie could tell that his overly-formal delivery was grating on their already strained patience. “Just get on with it!” their faces seemed to say.
“Alright!” Charlie dropped his formal and solemn demeanor. “The short version is that we all got drunk and gambled for over a week while we should’ve been doing everything we could to keep the printshop working and at the same time tearing apart the Assembly to figure out just what kind of mess we had to deal with because boy is it a big one!”
Charlie paused and took a breath while each of the department heads looked nervously at each other. Their faces seemed as though they all wanted to ask the same question. “Is the damage irreparable?” Charlie chose to address this next.
“The damage isn’t minor, but it’s not overwhelming. So you can all stop worrying about just how long we’re going to be here. I need all of you to keep preparing to get the ship back in the air.”
This answer produced a more positive response. Many relaxed and gradually sank back into their seats. Some even smiled with relief. As Charlie looked across the room a hoof belonging to a pegasus stallion shot up.
“What’s up Head?”
The brown-colored pegasus stood to address the room.
“With respect,” he started with the usual flair of a well-bred career officer. “I’d like to know, just how long do you think that we’ll be sitting here?”
Head, or more accurately “Headwind,” had been the Amerigo’s “Overwatch” for nearly as long as the ship had been in the air. The position he executed so faithfully was basically Chief-of-Security by any other name. Charlie and Turner had been opposed to calling is so; on account of how militant it sounded. They’d already taken special care to avoid including any significant offensive capabilities within the airship’s makeup or mission, but Headwind and his various pegasus and griffon allies had argued, quite effectively, that it was folly not to at least have those whose job it was to plan for the worst.
Now, there he sat taking up one-and-a-half spots at the table with the extra girth of his well-worn battle armor. He wasn’t alone as most of his overwatch colleagues, griffon and pegasus alike, were prone to wearing their old battle dress. One had to admit that they did look like they knew their function inside and out. Yet, some cynics among the ship’s crew continued to assert that they were simply too worn-out, or perhaps worn-in, to function in any other way. How else, they argued, did you explain the fact that the Peak War veterans were the first of the pegasi and griffons to agree to work together. After all, when you’ve been given the cold shoulder and shunned by those you thought were your friends you might gain a whole new appreciation for your so-called enemies.
“This is bad form to remain parked here for so long when we’re so close to…” he turned to his deputy, a female griffon named Ellipse, for support. “What is it now? Federation territory?”
“Confederate territory” she corrected.
Headwind rolled his eyes and grimaced betraying some wry amusement at the statement.
“There was a time when it was a good deal simpler, but my point is this. The aerial scouting teams I sent out have confirmed that the weather cluster that’s been dumping all of this fog on us is going to be clearing by high noon tomorrow, and despite our best efforts we can't enhance it any further. We’ll be exposed if there are any confederate scouts or hunting parties that are active here, or maybe even Dale pegasi on the far side picking their way through the briar-patch.” By this he meant the old thorn barrier.
The room’s occupants stirred with mixed responses that ranged from apathy, fear, or annoyance.
“In this area of the chain, I’d be more worried about the former” Charlie replied. “But I don’t think everyone here shares your particular concern. Am I correct in assuming that you’re all worried about how this is going to affect our profits this this cycle?”
Most of those present nodded.
“Well... it is going to have a negative effect. I don’t think we’re going to make our southern-seaboard quota.”
There were a series of groans that rippled throughout the assembly, but Charlie wasn’t finished.
“In fact, Crack, Kearn, and after he gets well, Turner, and I have been discussing the possibility of suspending the current mapping project for the rest of the current semester.”
As he’d expected, the room fell silent with astonishment. It was apparent that no one even knew what to think. They stared at their Captain and then at each other. Eventually, a yellow hoof at the far end of the table lifted up just high enough to be seen.
“Yes. What is it Penny?” Crack answered this time.
The hoof’s owner stood. Even though the mare was standing at her full height it was tough to see her full face on account of just how small she was. One might’ve mistaken her for a filly, but the yellow-colored earth mare was actually the head of the ship’s Computer Corps. A position that she’d executed for close to three years after Turner had reorganized his department into the two subdivisions of Navigation Corps and Computation or “Computer,” Corps.
“Why are we abandoning the most lucrative contract that we’ve had in the last two years? I’m sure that we could finish on-time even though we’ve lost almost two weeks. I thought the deadline was flexible.”
“All true” Charlie nodded. “The reason is that there’s something else that we need to discuss that concerns this ship’s true purpose. In fact, what concerns me doesn’t really relate to the Amerigo or its crew directly. You see, the little accident that we had the other week wasn’t so little, and it didn’t start within the Harmonic Assembly itself.”
Penny’s look of confusion was mirrored in the faces of everyone else. Charlie looked to his side to see Kearn in the process of getting to his hooves.
“I think that’s my cue” he said, working his way to the head of the table where he took his place between Charlie and Crack.
“The Skipper is being delicate because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but suffice to say, everything that he did say is accurate. The Harmonic Assembly is in shambles. If we hadn’t landed and stopped it rotating as quickly as we did then it might’ve destroyed itself, and we wouldn’t be taking off again.”
Understandably, Kearn’s directness was met with worried looks.
“Now, that being said. It can and will be repaired in a day-and-a-half. Does that satisfy everyone’s curiosity?”
Most were once again relieved at such good news. Charlie turned the Kearn with a question of his own.
“Now that you've finished your inspection, what exactly is the extent of the damage?”
“It won't be fully clear until I finish disassembly, but don’t let that change the estimate. We will be done when I say we will. Let me stress that, but if your asking what happened inside then I’d guess it was something like this. Element Primary inserted itself down into the trunk on its own. I might add that it did so with enough force to dent the bottom of the presser plate. The other elements weren’t moved sympathetically, and the push-back was so great that their branches were forced outward with such violence that it completely stripped their gears. They overextended so far that their tips started grating on the sides of the containment vessel. That’s what created all of the dust. Imagine a diamond versus a piece of glass. The harder one wins.”
Everyone, including Charlie, considered what Kearn had just said. Penny raised her hoof again.
“Why did it happen?” She asked.
“Doing the math as usual I see” Kearn responded. “Turner also did it, and I have to say that what he came up with was nearly impossible. You see it’s-”
Kearn was skilled at speaking when he knew he had an audience, but could be thought of as a rolling-stone when he got into his groove. Charlie put out his hand to interrupt the zebra.
“I think it’s time for me to take back the limelight.”
Charlie wondered how they would react to the revelation he was about to make. Would they laugh it off as absurd? Would they accept and dutifully jump back to their old way of life; the one only abandoned some four years ago? “No” he finally decided. It was more likely that there would be mixed reactions of enthusiasm for breaking up their normal routine, but at the same time annoyance at upsetting the somewhat comfortable lifestyle they’d grown accustomed to.
“Well” the Captain cleared his throat. “There’s no easy way to say this, but we think it was net or tether-effect that caused it. Element Primary, and I think Element Amber since it was the most obviously problematic, got themselves hooked on something outside the ship and when we broke free the snapback effect gave a terrific shock to the assembly. Turner thinks we’re lucky and only got hit with the short end.”
“The short end of what?” asked Headwind.
“If we knew that then we wouldn’t have called this meeting” quipped Kearn.
Charlie rolled his eyes and continued.
“There was a spell of some sort in our path. Every time we passed it there was a reaction. Could we have realized it before it was too late? Maybe, but the way Turner described it was quite apt. It was like snapping a taut string or wire. The long end has the potential to do more damage than the short one.”
“Then… what happened to this long one” Headwind asked again.
“Here goes” thought Charlie as he took a deep breath.
“We’re not quite sure. We’ve got some numbers that Penny’s team will need to clean up for us, but what we are certain of is that it struck in this grid here.” Charlie pointed at a projection chart he’d spread out on the table in front of them.
Projections were estimations of the probable shape of the terrain. They were drawn ahead of time to plan the survey routes, but couldn’t be counted on as accurate.
“We feel that we should investigate.”
“Why should this disrupt our mapping schedule?” Penny asked. “This area is still part of our recently accepted operating envelope. Just give us some time and we’ll adjust the survey plan to coincide” she offered.
“We need to land” Crack said bluntly.
A chorus of apprehensive murmurs erupted.
“Land…?” Penny repeated with a mortified expression.
“Land!?” Headwind barked. “Land there?! Are you out of your mind?!”
He stood to address the entire room.
“Not only is that sovereign Skyfire territory under Stone Nation’s watch, but it’s probably filled with feral dragons!”
“Don’t forget the hunting packs” added Ellipse. “Where there are feral dragons there will be hunters. It’s inevitable.”
“Yes, thank you” the fiery stallion nodded before launching back into his rant. “From what my griffon colleagues tell me, they’ll have completed the dragon hunts or will be in the process of completing them. Yet, even after the hunts are over the remaining dragons don’t calm down for weeks, and if there are still active packs we could be spotted by scouts! It’s difficult enough ensuring our anonymity as it is, but we all know that the shroud can’t be used when we’re landed unless it’s the dead of winter!” He paused for a breath before continuing. “Any way you slice it, a foot search for…. what are you asking us to search for anyways? It had better be of paramount importance if your asking that we risk being sighted or worse.”
“It’s important” Crack replied. “I’ve no desire to put us in danger. No one does, but please let us explain. We’re all here because we must have unity of thought and action.”
The room fell silent again as Crack and Charlie took turns explaining the reasons behind their motivations for the risky mission. Crack explained the fears over what a thorn infestation could mean, and Charlie presented the more hopeful, though improbable, possibility of the opportunity that could await them if indeed they might reclaim the rumored Flint Nation legacy.
After they were through, the room once again dissolved into a multitude of voices each discussing one side or the other. None present had outright expressed disapproval. In fact many, though apprehensive about it, seemed as though they might almost agree. Most of the griffons agreed with Crack about protecting the lands of their kin. While most equines were amiable towards the possibility of gaining the ability to remove the ancient blight of the thorns from the sky once and for all. Still others sat back with stone -faced expressions hiding their true feelings.
Charlie allowed nearly a quarter of an hour to pass before once again calling for their attention.
“As Crack said, we need unity on this. I won’t take this risk if any of you aren’t prepared to give your all. So we’re going to vote on it, and I need it to be unan-”
“Before that, I think we need you to promise something to us, or rather, to the newest members of the Amerigo’s family” Headwind stood and interrupted Charlie in mid-sentence. Ellipse stood with him in support.
“What would that be?” inquired Charlie.
“You need to fully initiate the rest of the greeners” Ellipse said.
Charlie was silent for a moment in surprise at the boldness of their request. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand what they were suggesting. He even agreed with their likely reasons. He was however, quite surprised by the force with which the request had been delivered. It almost sounded like an ultimatum. “I set myself up for this one” he thought.
“Second” Kearn added unexpectedly.
Kearn hardly ever took sides on such matters. This was almost unprecedented. Others nodded to show their support. Charlie looked to his left to see Crack nodding as well.
“It only makes sense doesn’t it?” his first officer said. “They’ll be taking part in the risks. So let’s show our confidence in them.”
Charlie nodded finally.
“Alright. I agree. I’ll call for their final interview after we’re back underway. We’ll have a little time en-route to do it the right way. But for now…” Charlie stood tall as he addressed the room once again as the Captain of the Amerigo. “Hooves and talons on the table!” he ordered.
Even those who hadn't been unable to sit during the meeting pressed in as close as they could, placing their right front appendages on the table in front of them. Without Charlie even asking, someone began to pound the table. Others soon joined in. Some were quick to join. Others seemed more hesitant, but they too were soon striking the table in unison with everyone else. As more joined, the tempo quickened. Charlie had once wondered whether this was really a fair means of casting a vote. The rhythm was almost hypnotic, and the more one listened to it the more that it seemed to produce a compulsion to join in.
Now the vote was in full swing. The cadence rippled throughout the room as though they were inside of a large drum. They had it! A unanimous vote! Charlie smiled as he leaned in as far towards the center of the table as he could reach. He brought his fist down as hard as he could with the others as the crescendo reached its peak. The pounding abruptly ceased. All eyes were now on their captain awaiting his order, and he stared back at his crew resolutely as he gave them one.
“We’re going!”