On Getting to the Bottom of this "Equestrian" Business

by McPoodle


Chapter 15: The Flight to London

Chapter 15: The Flight to London

June 24, 1985.

Zero minus 4 days.

The next day Luna rushed to get everything packed for the trip. Celestia took one look at the pile of bags and whistled sharply, summoning Truth Delver’s maid, Butterfly. She whispered something in Butterfly’s ear, and then the maid grabbed up the pile and whisked it out of the room.

Celestia took her sister downstairs, where people were walking in and out of the house moving luggage into a small bus for a trip that would start here, drive out to the airport outside town, fly to a transfer in New York City, and finally cross the ocean by plane to London. Luna tried in vain to see any sign of her luggage, or Butterfly.

Luna walked outside to the bus, followed cautiously by Celestia. She was about to board when she was stopped by Gwen Guiseman, who was already inside.

“Luna, I want to take this moment to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you have given me…given us. This is truly a chance for us to renew our marriage, in the homeland of my family. I’ve already arranged for my brother to meet us when we arrive, and it’s been decades since I’ve seen his face. I swear I’ll find something wonderful in London to give you as a small token of my gratitude.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Gus added from the seat on the bus beside Gwen.

What…?” Luna asked, in a voice too small to be heard.

“I’m afraid we’ve got to get going,” Father Delver said, closing the door of the bus in front of Luna’s face. “I echo Mrs. Guiseman’s sentiments. It’s a wonderful sacrifice that both of you have so generously decided to make for our guests. Now Celestia, I want you to promise you won’t abuse the staff too much while we are gone. And if anything goes wrong, you know who to call.”

“Of course, Father,” Celestia with a chipper smile.

“Alright then.” He stood there for a moment, his arms moving awkwardly, as if wanting to initiate a hug that he was simply incapable of completing. “I’ll see you on Saturday.” He entered the passenger compartment of the bus, and a moment later it drove away.

Luna stood there in shock for a moment, her hand still extended as if to grab onto the body of the bus and climb inside. She lowered her arm, stood up straight, and slowly turned to look at the grinning Celestia.

She looked into Celestia’s eyes, and said nothing. She just waited, and waited, and waited until her sister’s false smile finally started to crack, and then…

“What. Just. Happened?”

“Oh! Well we just volunteered our tickets to the Guisemans, so they can have a romantic vacation together.”

More silence.

“And by ‘we’ you mean…?”

“‘I’,” Celestia said in a smaller voice. “I mean ‘I’.”

“As usual. Why?”

Celestia collected herself and stood up tall. “I did my research, and London is a really awful place when you get down to it. There’s crime in broad daylight, and pollution like you wouldn’t believe, and everybody’s terribly prejudiced against Markists. And I realized that, well not only did the Guisemans desperately need this trip to save their failing marriage, but also that this would be a perfect chance for us to bond together. Yup, this week, just the two of us, doing all the stuff that you want to do!” She turned and strode back into the house, Luna following behind her.

“I’m not a child, Tia—I thought that was the whole point of my birthday yesterday, to make that official. I can handle a dangerous city, especially with everybody else in our little group. And I saw just as much of the Guisemans’ relationship as you did, and I think that while yes, the Professor certainly takes his wife for granted, they are nowhere near the point of needing a trip to ‘save their failing marriage’. And since when do you ever let me do the things I want to do?”

By this time Celestia had led her sister back to her room, where Butterfly was dutifully unpacking all of Luna’s luggage back into her dresser.

“Yeah, well that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” countered Celestia. “I’ve been treating you like an annoying little kid, and that’s wrong! So I’m here for you. Or…or not, if you want to be alone. And hey! I saw how well you got along with the Professor’s daughter, so this would be the perfect opportunity to improve that friendship. After all, she’s probably going to be pretty lonely, being stuck in a new town without her parents…”

Luna turned on her, seething. “The only reason she’s in that position is because you…gave…away…my…ticket!

Celestia stepped back in shock. She had never failed to sway somebody else to her opinion before. “I…well…you can’t leave! You’re too important to this town! Without you, everything would fall apart!”

“You just described yourself!” Luna cried. “Whereas for me, I am nothing! In London, I would finally be in a place where someone other than me stays up past ten. Someplace with people who won’t think I’m a freak, just because I’m not you! I was going to try and get permission to go to a Bounce House concert scheduled during the trip!”

“Bounce House?!” Celestia cried out in horror. “Don’t you mean Bounce House of Tartarus?! They’re a Demoness-worshipping cult! Am I too late—are you already insane?”

Butterfly decided that this was a good time to get out of Luna’s bedroom and relocate herself to someplace where she couldn’t be found.

“What? No! I knew that you of all people wouldn’t understand! That Tartarus pre-show business was a joke they gave up years ago!”

“But their songs! They sing songs about sacrificing animals and overthrowing governments!”

“Yes, to demonstrate the delusions of teenagers rebelling against authority without knowing what to replace that authority with. Bounce House songs are some of the most brilliant works of poetry I have ever heard.”

“Well…that just proves that you shouldn’t be allowed to go, as you’re clearly too immature to make rational decisions about threats to the religion.”

“Well you should know, considering that Father tells you everything while keeping me in the dark!”

“But you looove the dark!” Celestia teased.

Luna stepped forward, fire in her eyes.

“Hey, what are you—” Celestia protested.

Luna then shoved her sister out of the room and slammed the door in her face so hard that it partially splintered.

Celestia reeled back, her hand over her face. “I think you broke my nose!” (It was lightly bruised at worst.)

Good!!

Celestia screamed her frustration into the air, then loudly marched over to her room and slammed her own door shut.

Twice.


Gwen Guiseman didn’t take well to flying. She hyperventilated all the way from Central NBS Regional to JFK International. She tried to get drunk at the airport, but only succeeded in throwing up.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to continue the trip?” Delver asked Gus privately. “I’m sure I can get you tickets back to Canterlot if she’s not going to make it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Gus, patting his carry-on bag. “I’ve got something that does the trick. I couldn’t use it before because that stewardess was watching us like a hawk.” He smiled. “And I should know, being part-hawk. Or owl. Or whatever my bird half’s supposed to be.”

Delver looked down at Gus’ bag. “And is your little solution legal?”

Gus wiggled his hand. “Not exactly.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know you when the security forces arrive—I’m telling you that in advance.”

“Relax! I’m a physicist—I know what I’m doing.”

& & &

Gus waited until the “wear seatbelts” sign had been turned off in the plane to get up and retrieve his bag. From within it he removed a small rectangular device—a combination cassette player/radio. As Delver watched curiously from the other side of the aisle, Gus opened up a tool bag, used a screwdriver to pry the miniature stereo open and then proceeded to go to town with the complicated array of wires and components within. Delver was fairly sure that no store-bought stereo had nearly that many wires and transistors inside of it. He saw Gus detach several wires ending in alligator clips and reconnect them to new points. He did this all very quickly, with the air of one who has performed this exact operation many times before. When he was done he snapped the sides of the device back together, inserted six double-A batteries, and then donned a pair of portable headphones plugged into the device and started working his way through the radio’s tuner. He looked down at his plane ticket in confirmation then handed the device and headphones over to his very grateful wife, who put the headwear on and immediately seemed much calmer. She tucked the device under the plane-issued blanket she was wearing.

Delver got up and crossed the aisle way so he could quietly ask what it was that Gus had actually done.

Gwen’s flying fear stems from a lack of control,” Gus told him in a whisper. “I just modified that radio so that she can hear the chatter between the captain and air traffic control.

Delver looked between a smug Gus and the utterly relaxed Gwen, who was quickly nodding off to sleep to the droning sound of the plane’s captain reading off his current course and clearances. Then he turned wordlessly to return to his seat.

“So what was that?” asked Meridiem, who was sitting next to Gnosi in the seat behind Delver’s.

“You’re better off not knowing, to avoid charges of aiding and abetting,” Delver replied, only half facetiously.

& & &

A few hours later, Gus was awakened from his own slumber by an elbow in the ribs from his wife. “Prepare yourself for bad news,” she told him.

A few seconds later, the voice of the captain broadcast over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It appears that our landing, which would have been a full half-hour before schedule, is going to be delayed by forces beyond our control. An anti-American protest has spilled out onto the tarmac, and is currently being contained by the police. As soon as all of the protesters have been removed, we will be free to land.

That’s when Gus remembered that this was the day that the long-promised Pershing II missiles from America were scheduled to arrive via naval convoy only a few miles from here before heading across Europe to West Germany.

And so it begins…” he muttered darkly to himself.