Alright, we scouted out the abandoned house. It’s in a good shape, at least from the inside, the cellar door is reinforced, and judging by the layer of dust on everything it doesn’t look like anypony decided to live here in the few weeks between the invasion and now.
The main problem is love at the moment. As much as I’d like to send Four out for scouting purposes and to test Ten’s inherited experience, she wouldn’t be able to hold enough love to reasonably feed us even if she succeeded.
Unfortunately, that brings back Ten’s words of me being completely reliant on Eight. He was right.
Okay, let’s think of this as an opportunity. What is the good part about all this? How can I use this to gain at least some advantage?
I’m pacing back and forth through the one-room cellar, followed by three pairs of eyes.
“Eight?” I stop and slowly breathe out, “I know this will be extremely dangerous, but I have to send you out to hunt.”
“Will do,” she nods, “Right now?”
“I’m far from an expert on pony social life. What do you think?”
“Late evening like this is a good time, bars and taverns should be full even with ponies probably not comfortable going out late this soon after the invasion. Or unless there’s a curfew, but we won’t know until we try.”
Frowning. I decide the next step of action.
“Four, go dormant,” when she lies down on the floor, I drain most of her remaining love and transfer it to Three, “Three, you’ll be on guard. Your job is to wake me up if somepony tries to get inside the house-”
“Yes, boss!” he salutes.
“-There are copied keys in the main room, jam one into the lock so that it can’t be opened from the outside once Eight leaves. Decide on a password between the two of you. I’ll be riding in one of your heads anyway. Oh, and carry me somewhere safe after I do this.”
A bolt of green lightning sparks between my and Eight’s horns, and in the next instant I’m watching my body collapse on the floor from behind Eight’s eyes. Three does his best to catch me, but he’s smaller, and all he can do is stop me from smacking my head against the floor.
Idea good, execution lacking.
”Four, this way all you need to focus on are Ten’s experiences. Learn all you can, adapt them for yourself.”
I feel a tiny mental nod from the dormant drone lying curled up on the stone floor.
”Three, after you carry me off, hide Four in a different room just in case, then stay on watch until Eight returns or I tell you something different.”
“Sure thing, boss,” he begins hauling my body into a corner and hiding it under a pile of backpacks and saddlebags.
”Eight, ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she mutters in response to my mental question.
”Then let’s go and see how the big city is doing.”
As the door clicks behind pegasus Eight, I feel her behavior shift completely. This isn’t a small town like Wet Soil from where she can always fight her way out. This is Canterlot where caution must be absolute. Eight is relaxed, breathing slowly and doing her best not to look out of place. It must be difficult, considering her disguise is a rather beautiful mare, at least judging by the reactions she usually got in Wet Soil.
However, while there are pairs of Royal Guards patrolling the streets, they are easy to spot and thus avoid in the darkness due to their glowing helmets. Point one, Eight’s night vision is perfect in comparison to that of trained guardsponies. Good to know.
Eight slows down as she passes by a guard duo stopping a solitary earthpony. One unicorn aims his horn at the citizen while the other one simply runs his own glowing blue along the earthpony’s neck.
“You’re free to go, sir,” says the Royal Guard, “If you spot somepony acting suspicious, just tell us. A quick scan is all it takes.”
Eight increases her pace ever so slightly.
”They have magic to spot changelings now? That’s bad, that’s REALLY bad.”
“...close range magic which leaves them vulnerable...”
”That’s why they work in pairs I bet. One scanning, and one ready to blow things up.”
“...indeed...”
I underestimated Eight. She might not be an infiltrator, but she’s got enough experience not to just crawl through dark places, but stride where she wants to be instead. Ten’s knowledge tells me that aside from some body language, Eight’s got all the main concepts right and her disguise would easily work anywhere not on high alert. The real test comes now, though, because Eight has finally found a suitable bar, and heads inside.
I was expecting the place to be half empty, but there are only few empty tables in the whole room. Earthponies and pegasi are mixing together and chatting. Most importantly, I spot three earthpony stallions clearly hitting on a pegasus and an earthpony mares sitting in the corner.
Eight smiles to herself, and like a lady with class walks over to the counter and jumps up onto a barstool.
”Shouldn’t you be looking for victims?”
“...trust me, this is far more effective. THEY are looking for victims...”
I know better than to argue.
She orders a drink and starts sipping it, looking dejectedly into the glass. After a moment, she downs it in one gulp and orders another one.
I stop myself from telling her to be careful with our scarce money. I have to remind myself that she, unlike myself, has done this before.
“Another one,” Eight kills her next glass.
She can’t be drinking just because I pissed her off, right?
“Rough day?” an earthpony sits on the next bar stool, another one follows from the other side.
I feel a corner of Eight’s mouth curl up. Then she lets out a loud sigh.
“Yeah, my friend was out in the street during the… attack. I came from Wet Soil to visit her. She’s still… not all there.”
“Oh dear,” the earthponies order drinks too, and another one for Eight who blinks when the fresh glass lands before her, “Here, this will help you forget, at least for tonight.”
“I’m just… scared,” Eight takes a sip, “I dun- I don’t want that to happen to me...”
“Don’t worry, miss,” the bigger earthpony throws his foreleg around Eight’s shoulders and whispers in her ear, “I was outside when it all happened, helping Royal Guards fight off the first wave. Trust me, I can swat a bug or two. You can sleep safely tonight, or maybe if you want to be extra safe-” he nods towards his buddy, “We’re big guys.”
Eight stops slumping on the stool, shaking her head vigorously and having to spread her wings to stop herself from falling over.
“I shud- should go ohm- home. All the way...”
“Come on,” the earthpony steadying her lowers his voice, “my apartment is two blocks away. Completely bug-free.”
Eight giggles, stumbling down from the stool. Thankfully, both earthponies are more than happy to guide her out of the bar, of course after paying for everything that was left. She spreads her wings, putting one around each earthpony’s back.
“Ol- Alright, big guys,” she leans her head onto the wingpony, “I don’t mind forgetting everything bad for tonight.”
“Oh don’t worry, you’re safe with us.”
“Mmmmm...” Eight moans and giggles quietly, her eyelids drooping.
***
Eight’s standing over the two unconscious earthponies with the biggest smiles on their muzzles, grinning.
“Not bad, not bad,” she mutters to herself, or to me. I did give her privacy, and jumped into Three, but that became boring rather quickly, so I connected with her again and tried to take in her mode of operation. After all, Ten shared his experience, so who’s to say I can’t do that with my own observations eventually? “Wake up!” she orders.
The two earthponies’ eyes open, and they obediently sit up.
“You will not mention to anypony else what happened tonight, and we’ll meet at the same bar in two days. Eat well, rest up, and I’ll try to top my performance tonight. You’ll look forward to it, won’t you?”
“Oh damn yes!” the ponies high hoof each other.
“Good boys. Now go to sleep, and forget this conversation. Remember the addiction, though, and think about me a lot.”
As the two earthponies fall asleep again, Eight rubs her full belly, and leaves into the gloom of early morning Canterlot.
”Well done, Eight.”
“Were you expecting anything less from me?”
”No, you’re the best companion I’ve got.”
“And if you ever find someone better?”
”I’ll… let them join our little group?”
She sighs.
“...nevermind...”
”Are you okay, Eight?”
“...it’s nothing...”
”Come on, what’s bothering you?”
“I said it’s NOTHING!” she stops.
“Are you okay, miss?” a Royal Guard steps out of an alley, levitating a cigarette.
Oh crap… why did we have to find a guy who stopped for a smoke?
“AH?!” Eight jumps up like a startled cat, rushing backwards and disappearing into the closest dark, narrow, guard-free passage.
I thought she’d keep on running, but she stops right behind the corner.
”What are you doing?”
“...shush...”
The Royal Guard nearly collides with Eight staring at him wide-eyed.
“Stay still, miss,” says the guard firmly.
“I- I’m sorry. You just jumped out, and I thought you were… one of the… things...” Eight just keeps staring blankly past the guard.
“I understand, miss, just calm down and let me scan you.”
“Me?!” Eight leans backwards.
“Yes, miss, it’s standard protocol. Just calm down, and it’ll take only few seconds.”
“Alright,” Eight breathes out, shifting her weight onto her hind legs.
The Royal Guard lowers his horn to her neck. With an upswing of her foreleg, Eight knocks his helmet off. The other foreleg connects with his now unprotected temple, and the unicorn’s head hits the wall.
”Wow, he actually flew a little. Is he dead?”
“Still breathing,” Eight clicks her teeth, “Pretty poor luck to find a freshly fed changeling on his own.”
”What do we do with him? We can’t just haul a Royal Guard around the city, even at this time of day.”
“Let me try something,” Eight undoes the helmet chin wraps already loosened by the first blow, and puts it on herself, “Hmm, uncomfortable, but it should work,” after few more attempts, she puts on the rest of the armor.
“Huh?” she looks around.
I can feel her discomfort, as if she was about to shapeshift, but not in the good changeling way. This feels heavy-hoofed, primitive, incomplete…
“Oh...” Eight looks at her now pristine white foreleg, then at the Royal Guard...
...who now has an orange coat and chestnut brown mane.
“Transformation magic in the armor? Or just an illusion?” she taps herself all over, “Nope, transformation.”
”Ooooh, so they AREN’T all the same white or grey ponies. Pity, the uniform guards are the closest thing to a changeling hive I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, I bet a lot of ponies think being white is the major qualification for the job.”
”Alright, what’s the plan with the unconscious guy then?”
“You’re the boss...” she answers non-commitally, “What happens to us is up to you.”
Damn it, and here was I thinking she wasn’t mad at me anymore.
”Let’s bring him home. We can squeeze him for love and information. Plus, we need to implant a cover story into him so that the Royal Guards aren’t looking for a random stranger who stole magical guard armor.”
“As you wish,” Eight hoists the unicorn onto her back, and in her Royal Guard disguise gets safely to our hideout.
”Hey, Three, Eight’s outside.”
“Oh hi, boss,” the drone whispers with enthusiasm, lying under the front windowsil, “There’s an armored pony carrying another pony outside. She looks super official! I read a story about a war where ponies hid into a bigger wooden pony and then surprised their enemies by jumping out, so I hid down here.”
I’m going to assume I’m missing some key details and not ask about any practical or impractical uses of such method of… I suppose combat.
”That’s Eight. We stole a Royal Guard armor and it turns out that those change how their wearers look. Let her in.”
Three shuffles to towards the door and unlocks it. A moment later Eight walks through, dropping the unconscious guard on the floor. Then she takes her armor off, turning back into a changeling.
”Keep an eye on the guard, Three.”
“Of course, boss.”
“This feel so much better,” Eight breathes out, carelessly tossing the armor pieces around, “Love distribution time, I guess.”
I wake up.
I feel weak, although I’m strong enough to get the pile of backpacks off of me and stand up. Strange, last time when I got sucked dry I had to wait for Eight, now I don’t. I wonder why…
Anyway, I meet Eight by the cellar door, pondering what to do now. I try to tap into her love reserves, but instead of the usual flow of love, I feel as if I got hit with a brick. A tasty one, but nonetheless a brick.
Is she THAT pissed off by what I told her after Ten left? It didn’t feel too… significant to me, honestly.
Eventually, I gather enough strength to connect with Eight properly and change her feeding attempts into what I need.
I tap into Four lying on the floor.
I tap into… Three…
...all the way…
...upstairs?
What?
Sending love his way, I ask:
”Three, how’s the refill going?”
I hear his hoofsteps, then he peeks inside the cellar.
“Sorry, boss. I can’t talk to you inside your head so I had to run off. I’m alright, thanks for the love. Now, if you don’t mind, I should be watching the pony.”
“Great, keep it up,” I encourage him, and he runs back up.
“Hmmm, I don’t need to be close to transfer love anymore,” I refill Four, who opens her eyes and takes a deep breath..
“I told you you weren’t a drone,” Eight shrugs, “It’s simple, you’re a King now, THE King to be accurate. You will be able to do things no other changeling can, and you will have power over the lives of your… tools.”
“You’re not a tool, Eight,” I look her in the eyes, “Neither are Three and Four.”
“Wrong,” her gaze hardens, “You came up with the idea of getting rid of me when you find somepony more useful.”
“I said that was something CHRYSALIS would do, not me!” I raise my voice.
“It occured to you that something like that was possible. For a moment, you thought like she does all the time.”
“I AM NOT CHRYSALIS!”
“No, you’re weak,” Eight frowns, “I thought you’d be different, but your friendly and peaceful approach was only because you had no power. Now that you’re getting knowledge, experience, and love, you’re growing up… into a real changeling.”
“Eight!”
“Prove me wrong! After you’re REALLY in a position of power, after you DO find or grow somepony more powerful or useful than I am, then show me what you REALLY believe in. When everything is on the line, will you risk failure for an… inferior tool?”
“Eight, I know how it feels to be a rank where no one cares whether you’re alive or not, and where you’re just food, a real tool, or amusement.”
“Which is why you can’t understand what I’m saying. Power changes everyone. Chrysalis was BORN for leadership, and even she had to make brutal decisions to appease the hive mind and to ensure our survival. Even she had to throw away everyone she relied on when they failed and became a burden. You know nothing about leadership and the hive, and yet you’re trying to lie to me and yourself that you’d avoid the pitfalls your BETTERS couldn’t,” she shakes her head, “Once the idea that we’re disposable crosses your mind, it doesn’t leave. When there are no resources left, when I am not the most powerful changeling around, when you have to choose… you will choose what’s right for the hive, not us little changelings.”
I… uhh… that’s a bit too much to handle at once. I really want to tell her she’s wrong, but she’ll know I’m lying. Survival instinct can kick in and make me act the way she described, hive mind can take control of me and ruin everything.
It dawns on me.
She’s right, but in the wrong way.
I transfer her message to Three and Four.
”EVERYONE, do you feel the same way Eight does?”
After a moment of thought, Four very carefully nods. Three doesn’t come back, I just hear his voice from upstairs:
“A little, boss, but that’s okay, because without you I’d be a husk inside the hive and wouldn’t get to meet miss Eight or the nice ponies from Wet Soil anyway.”
I AM too weak, too weak to resist the hive mind, and too weak to avoid the scenario Eight described.
We’ll have to change that then. The question is how…?
Eight originally said that to resist the hive mind I needed more changelings, and we’re here to find some and gain more details about the invasion, pony plans, and survivors.
The problem is that to avoid having to lose Eight like an inferior tool, I have to think about everyone in terms of what they are best tools for anyway.
“Eight, will you still obey me even though you think… what you think?”
“You can always force me. You know my… weakness. You can even make me want it,” Eight admits with a frown.
Then I will have to work with Eight from the position of power.
“Eight, orders,” I don’t wait for her to react, and simply make her sit down, feeling her short-lived panic and submissive pleasure, “Take a break. You’ve done more than your fair share already. Four, come with me.”
The drone follows me upstairs to the unconscious guard.
“First, take whatever love you need. We didn’t drain this one. Then I need you to implant a believable and foolproof story into his head. Eight isn’t the best with mental stuff, and you’ve got Ten’s knowledge, so improvise.”
“I don’t know much about how ponies treat each other, King,” Four taps her hooves nervously on the floor.
“You can do it. You’re our infiltrator now. Once I discover how to make the needed physical changes to you I’ll do it.”
“I’ll do all I can, King,” she nods.
“Perfect, I’m going outside.”
“Boss?” Three still carefully looking out of the window jumps up when he hears me say that.
“I don’t know anything about this place. I need at least something that’ll be my own knowledge. I’ll only be away for a while.”
“Should I… come as well?” asks Three, clearly worried.
“No, if anything suspicious happens, wake Eight up and get the hole out of here.”
“Will do,” Three salutes. Four joins him, “Good luck, boss.”