Chapter Twenty-Seven: Broken Harmony
Steel Ranger armor was remarkable, able to use whatever enchantments had been placed upon it to convert scrap into its raw materials and use them to fix itself. Soon Rare was ready to move again, and we headed back the way we’d come. The other tunnel took us to the north, to another bunker, this one inhabited by radmoths instead of military-strength robots. Within the bunker was a ladder leading up to the surface, and we emerged north of the Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad’s wall.
The question still remained as to what we would do now. I was beginning to tire of the search for Mr. Bucke. We’d been at this for nearly three weeks and had never actually seen the pony with our own eyes. We were so close behind him now that it seemed foolish to give up, but we also had no idea where he could’ve gone. Perhaps it would be better to reconsider our plans.
I was trying to determine the best course of action, when I spotted a sprite-bot hovering behind a pile of rubble. It wasn’t blaring President Snowmane’s (I now knew, recycled) propaganda or marching music, and I wondered if it was under the control of that pony who’d done the same thing in Vanhoover. Considering how our last encounter had gone, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. Cautiously, I began to approach, Rare Sparks following me, and the sprite-bot began to bob away.
“Hey! Wait!” I called after the sprite-bot and it paused, “I want to talk to you!”
“I wanted to speak with you as well, but after our last confrontation, I wasn’t sure you would listen to anything I said,” the sprite-bot responded, the voice the same as before.
“It speaks!” Rare proclaimed in astonishment.
“Yes, it does. Though, as I’ve explained to your companion, the sprite-bot is merely a means I am using to communicate. I am no machine,” the sprite-bot said before rotating in the air to face me, “What you said at the Republic of Rose crater … there was truth in your words. I cannot reveal myself or the extent of what I can see to everypony, however, only to those I trust, but there are things I can do. I should have told you about Sundale, but there was nothing I could do to prevent the destruction of the Republic of Rose. Still, I would … make amends.”
“How?” I asked, intrigued by the suggestion.
“While you have been chasing Mr. Bucke, I have been conducting a search for him myself. He truly was in that bunker when you arrived yesterday, but upon learning that you were onto him, he escaped through the same tunnel you’ve just come out of. I watched him do so, and I followed him, knowing you would never be able to catch up to him in time.”
“So, whoever you are, where is Mr. Bucke now, then?” Rare Sparks asked.
“I cannot speak to his exact location, but this is what I know,” the sprite-bot replied, “He stayed last night at Harmony Tower; he had not yet left when I turned my attention here to search for you.”
“So, he could still be there,” I said.
“Perhaps, but I would not get my hopes up. It is entirely possible that he left after I came to speak with you. Nevertheless, I will keep watch on Harmony Tower until you arrive, then search for him elsewhere in case he has fled.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling bad now that I’d lashed out at him before.
“Like I said, I wanted to make amend—kkzzkkt—questria must be revitalized, but at the proper time and in the proper way!” the sprite-bot suddenly cut back to one of President Snowmane’s speeches.
As it bobbed away, completely oblivious to us, I turned to Rare, who was still trying to puzzle out how a pony could use a sprite-bot to speak. I was glad that I hadn’t isolated myself from the mysterious pony on the other end of the speakers. Friends were hard to keep in the Wasteland, though it was hard to classify the mysterious pony as a friend. He seemed to be looking out for my well-being and had just acted unlike a detached observer, but this was still only the fourth time he’d spoken to me since I’d left Stable 85. Perhaps I’d feel more camaraderie towards him if his tip on Mr. Bucke led to us capturing the stallion. For that to happen, however, we’d need to head to Harmony Tower.
***
The marker for Harmony Tower was already on my PipBuck’s map from talking to other ponies around Stalliongrad (the PipBuck somehow could add locations based entirely on explanations or sometimes mentions, which baffled me), so we had no trouble finding our way. It was in the far northeastern corner of Stalliongrad, a long way from any other settlement we’d heard about. Though, to be fair, the only other settlements in Stalliongrad we knew the locations of were the PRS and Railyard. There were more settlements in the area, but some of them were part of the Northern Lights Coalition and best avoided (though Timbervale in Vanhoover had been nice enough).
New Location Discovered: Ministry of Image Hub – Stalliongrad my PipBuck notified me as we passed an inconspicuous building that blended in with the adjoining properties. Compared to the other Ministry hubs, it wasn’t much to look at, just one more building in a row of similar buildings. The only visible marker that it was a Ministry hub at all was a small sign next to the door displaying a warning that only authorized personnel were allowed, along with the Ministry of Image's logo, which I now realized adorned every Ministry billboard and propaganda poster in the Wasteland. Apparently, the MI preferred to let its work shine while the Ministry itself remained in the shadows. Even if the work seemed relatively benign compared to the actions of other Ministries, I couldn’t help remembering what I’d learned back in the Strip about them censoring newspapers and working with the Ministry of Morale.
My EFS placed two hostiles within the building, probably radmoths, which were prevalent in this area and much bigger than the ones we’d faced in Traders’ Lane. After picking the lock, I drew my ripper in anticipation and opened the door, the little bell over it tinkling as the rusty fitting gave way and it fell to the floor. I very nearly froze when I saw the first hostile; it had wings, but it was no radmoth. A yellow-coated alicorn was standing in the center of the room, levitating several books with her magic, her head turning toward the sound of the opening door and the bell.
“You!” she said in surprise as she spotted me, which surprised me even more.
How could this alicorn recognize me? Unless their minds were linked as some of their actions seemed to suggest. If the alicorns did have a collective memory, then she’d remember me as the last thing several alicorns had seen before they were gunned down by Stalliongrad’s Steel Rangers. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to speak to the alicorn this time.
Unless I was able to get closer, my ripper wasn’t going to do me any good, so I dropped it and drew my magical energy rifle, hoping for immolation. The books the alicorn had been levitating fell heavily to the nearby desk as she focused her magic into conjuring a blade next to her. I forced myself to move closer to her as I fired, which allowed Rare Sparks to enter the building. With no thought for conserving ammunition, she opened up with both her grenade launcher and her minigun.
The alicorn swung her magical blade at me, slicing the desk I ran behind in half and just barely missing me. Meanwhile, she conjured up a shield in front of her to deflect Rare’s barrage. The shield wasn’t very large, however, and protected her from only one direction, so I was able to flank it while dodging her attacks. As her magical blade nearly sliced off my head, I cast SATS and aimed my magical energy rifle at her head, her horn in particular. It took a few tries, but one of my beams did manage to strike her horn, dissolving her magical shield. Rare’s grenades tore off her limbs and her minigun chewed through her torso, leaving little behind.
Gravity suddenly reversed itself, and Rare Sparks and I fell to the ceiling, desks, books, terminals, stacks of papers, and coffee cups raining down around us. Then, just as suddenly, gravity returned to normal, and we fell again. As I pushed myself up painfully from where I’d fallen across a desk, I spotted the culprit. There had been two hostiles in this building, and the second was striding down the stairs. It was a teal-coated alicorn, his eyes and horn glowing ferociously. Once again, he reversed gravity on us, and we fell to the ceiling while he flapped his wings, rotated, and landed gracefully on his hooves.
As he approached our motionless forms, my eyes focused on the broken desk nearest me. The drawers had tumbled out, spilling their contents onto the ceiling. Among the items displaced were a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, as well as a bottle of gin. The way the desk had fallen hid these items from the alicorn, and before he could get close enough to realize what I was doing, I fashioned a makeshift Maretov cocktail.
I threw the incendiary at the alicorn, but he switched up the gravity as he saw it flying toward him and it changed trajectory, falling with everything else toward the back of the MI Hub. Flames spread around Rare, but they didn’t harm her Steel Ranger armor. No sooner had she gotten to her hooves than the alicorn reversed the gravity again, sending us flying toward the front of the shop. Rare crashed into a window, the glass shattering as her armored form struck it, and she hung onto the sill with her hooves.
The alicorn descended toward me, and I spotted my ripper lying nearby. Though it was risky, I waited until he was nearly on top of me before grabbing the weapon in my magic and powering it on. The alicorn was too close now to escape, and the spinning blade tore through his wing as I swung it around. He let out a scream and his magic failed, dropping everything back to the proper floor.
It didn’t take long for the alicorn to recover his composure, and I felt his magic close around me. Whether he was going to crush me, throw me about like a ragdoll, or something worse, I didn’t know, but thankfully whatever fate he had in store for me was averted. Rare was also quick to recover, and fired grenades through the window she’d fallen through, one of them striking the alicorn and throwing him across the room.
I pulled my magical energy rifle out from under a stack of singed books and fired it at the alicorn as he struggled to his hooves, not used to having only one wing. As his horn began to glow, no doubt in preparation for messing with gravity some more, I finally got the immolation I’d been hoping for. My magical energy shot turned him into a pile of ash in an instant.
I was sore all over from being thrown around the building but shook it off and got to work searching for everything that had fallen out of my saddlebags in the confusion. While I was doing so, I also found a StealthBuck. There was probably a story behind it, but I wasn’t going to pick through the dozens of shattered terminals and scattered desks just to learn that it had probably been meant for something shady. My curiosity had gotten the better of me in wanting to explore the MI Hub, but it couldn’t hold us up any longer. Harmony Tower still awaited us.
***
Harmony Tower rose like a monolith in the Wasteland. All around it, the buildings were leveled, but the former hotel and conference center stood strong. Large portions of it seemed to be reinforced by pieces of the missing nearby buildings. Apparently, it catered to travelers and traders, since there were large signs out front proclaiming Last Stop Before Flankorage for those heading east, and Resupply Before Reaching PRS – The Prices Are Better Here for those headed west.
The entrance was not heavily guarded, or guarded at all, really. Lines of sandbags guided ponies to the grand doors, making them more defensible, but nopony was on duty. I was struck with the sudden fear that Mr. Bucke had done something to wipe this town off the map, and cast EFS to make sure there was no trap waiting for us. The only marks displayed by the spell, however, were friendly. The owners of those marks didn’t appear until we entered Harmony Tower.
An old, glitzy, Wartime lobby that was very well-preserved greeted us as we stepped through the doors. Standing around the room were several ponies casually talking, a few of them wearing battle saddles to defend the tower if an attack did occur. I’d seen plenty of ponies wearing clothes in the Wasteland—it made good sense, either to protect you from attack or the ever-present grime—but nowhere had I seen ponies as clothed as the ones here. They seemed determined to wear everything they could; not only Wartime suits and dresses, but also boots, hats, scarves, glasses, and, in some cases, gas masks. With most of the individuals, all you could see of the pony were their tails and occasionally their eyes. It was a bit bizarre, but not the strangest thing I’d seen in the Wasteland.
“Visitors! Welcome, welcome!” one of them called over to us from the hotel’s ancient front desk.
A few traders who’d checked in before us (who weren’t covered in a prodigious amount of clothing) trotted off to their rooms as the greeter waved us over, bandages around his foreleg flailing as he did so.
“Well, well, well, let’s see what we have available,” the front desk pony said incredibly enthusiastically as he tapped on the terminal in front of him, “Would you like one bed or two?”
“One,” I answered automatically. That hadn’t changed since I’d begun traveling with Rare Sparks. I would be the only one using it, so there was no point in paying for a second bed when it would remain unslept in.
“I see,” our host said cheerily, acting for all the world like the megaspells had never fallen and the hotel was running normally, “I assume the lady will want a rack to remove her armor?”
“You have one?” Rare exclaimed in surprise.
“But of course,” our host replied with what I assumed was a smile beneath his scarf, “Harmony Tower caters to call kinds of travelers, and we intend to be ready to fill the needs of all who pass through.”
“Better make it two beds then,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly, and Rare grinned at me.
“As you wish,” the desk clerk replied, completely unfazed, “Broadstone, the key to room 403. That will be 185 caps.”
As I paid the room fee (which was a good deal steeper than in other places I’d stayed) another pony behind the desk retrieved the chosen key from its hook on the wall. As I looked up from signing a guest form, I noticed that our host’s eyes were different colors. I don’t know why it seemed important to me, but somehow it stuck, even though I could think of no reason for alarm.
“Red Ribbon will show you to your room,” our host said as he extended a hoof in the direction of our escort, “Enjoy your stay!”
Surprisingly, our guide was not wearing attire that covered her entire frame. The pink-coated mare led us to the elevator, her yellow and white mane bobbing as she trotted. The elevator rose smoothly upwards, music even playing undistorted from a speaker.
“If I might ask, why does everypony here wear so many clothes?” Rare put forward the question that had been gnawing at my mind as we ascended.
“It’s a Harmony Tower tradition,” Red Ribbon replied politely, “The original settlers came from colder climes, where bundling up was necessary to survive. It’s a tradition that’s been carried down through the years.”
“But not one adhered to by you,” Rare commented.
“No, not by me,” Red Ribbon said, and stared absentmindedly at the elevator door with a puzzled expression for a moment before continuing, “I see no need to cling to that which is past. It has come in handy for Harmony Tower, too. Many ponies feel uneasy around those who cover themselves, so it is good that I do not and can interact with visitors more openly.”
There was nothing distinctly wrong about what she’d said, but something was still tugging at the back of my mind. Maybe it was the way she’d said it that caused me to be suspicious. Something about this place was very strange, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. Maybe I was just on edge because of why we were here.
“Is there a pony named Mr. Bucke staying here?” I asked, realizing that in all this questioning of what was around me I’d never once posed the question I’d come here to ask.
“There was last night, but he left today,” Red Ribbon replied as the doors to the fourth floor slid open, “A friend of yours?”
“In a manner of speaking,” I said with a harrumph, “Did he mention where it was he was going?”
“Not that I can recall, though I’ll ask around,” Red Ribbon promised us as she led us to room 403, “In any case, it’s too late tonight to head out after him anymore. Please, enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” I said as I unlocked the door.
Red Ribbon nodded with a smile and trotted back to the elevator, leaving us alone. As she left, I tried to shake the feeling of unease I had, but wasn’t able to. If only I could pinpoint what it was that made me so on edge.
***
Rare didn’t seem as fazed as I was, but maybe it was because she was too preoccupied with the opportunity to shed her armor and bathe for the first time in weeks. After returning to the main room invigorated, she threw herself onto her bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Getting as much sleep as possible was the right thing to do, since we’d need to leave early the next morning to try to catch Mr. Bucke’s trail. Yet, my body would not cooperate, and my attempts to fall asleep only left me staring at the darkened ceiling as the night dragged on.
I sighed heavily as I rolled over and rooted around in my saddlebags. There were plenty of recordings from Shining Armor’s box I’d retrieved from the SAS vault, but I wanted to follow his story in order, and the next item on the datatape was no recording at all, but a brief message that read only: <Snowflake Orb>. The datatape had come with memory orbs, and one of them indeed had a snowflake etched into its surface. Rare and I had been listening to the audio recordings together, but she would be unable to experience a memory orb. With nothing else to do, I could experience it now and tell her about it tomorrow. Sitting the orb on the pillow next to me, I laid back in my bed and touched it with my magic, letting my surroundings fade away.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
I was in a unicorn stallion’s body (thankfully), and after a moment realized that my host was none other than Shining Armor himself. It made sense for the general to have stored his own memories in the case, but it still came as a bit of a surprise. The reason that it was the Snowflake Orb was readily apparent; snow was falling all around me, coating the buildings and the cobblestone streets. It took me a minute before I realized the city I was looking at was Canterlot at dusk. The same castle I’d seen in the memory of Resolute’s award in Bunker Hill was there, but the Ministry buildings leading up to it were not. Apparently, this memory took place some time before their construction.
“What are you thinking about, dear?” a voice came from beside my host, and he turned to look at Cadence, his alicorn-not-goddess wife.
“Oh, I’m just glad we’re all able to be together again, for however brief a time,” Shining Armor replied.
The husband and wife duo were not the only two ponies trotting together down the street. The rest of his family was in attendance too, and I recognized them all from the photos on the general’s desk in the Flankorage simulation. Midnight Aurora, his eldest, who was an instructor at the Luna Academy for Young Unicorns; I wondered why she’d ever left it and become a member of the Ministry of Morale, of all things. Golden Saber, his only son, a soldier in the Equestrian Army, wearing his uniform tonight and getting quite a few admiring glances from the young mares that passed by. Last but not least, Sunset Rose, his youngest daughter, still practically a foal but older than in his last recording, presumably still a student at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns here in Canterlot.
“Come on, Dad!” she said, “I want to see Aunt Twily before the show starts!”
“Okay, okay,” Shining Armor chuckled, “I suppose we can pick up the pace a little, but be careful.”
The filly trotted ahead of the group, spurring them onwards. Many other ponies were headed in the same direction, filtering into a large theater. A few ponies on a street corner were singing songs, and Cadence paused for a moment to throw a few Bits their way, for which they nodded in appreciation. My host and his family eventually found their way to the same place as all the others, a theater packed with ponies.
“Aunt Twily!” Sunset Rose exclaimed as they trotted through the crowd and took off in the direction of Twilight Sparkle.
The (not yet?) Ministry Mare of the MAS greeted her niece with a bizarre dance, made all the more perplexing by her outfit. Twilight Sparkle was dressed in a rustic robe with a hood, the kind of thing one could imagine a monk wearing, but not her. In the distance, I noticed Pinkie Pie, also wearing a strange getup, so something was going on here.
“Well, Clover the Clever,” Shining Armor addressed his sister, confusing me further, “Are we in for a treat tonight?”
“I dare say it may be the best show yet. The Princesses have pulled out all the stops,” Twilight Sparkle replied, “Tonight will be a night to remember, and it may well have to be.”
“What do you mean?” Cadence asked, picking up on that last qualifier.
“Celestia hasn’t made any decision yet, but she’s considering making this the last Canterlot Hearth’s Warming Eve Pageant,” Twilight said conspiratorially, “With the war ramping up and the threats issued this year, she doesn’t feel it’s safe to have so many ponies—not to mention both Princesses—in the same place.”
“Does she really think the zebras will turn to terrorism?” Cadence asked, aghast.
“There was already an incident at Baltimare’s Nightmare Night celebration this year that was thankfully averted by the police. I wouldn’t put it past them,” Shining Armor said, “Why hasn’t Celestia notified the Royal Guard or the Army?”
“Like I said, she’s still considering it. No decision has been made yet,” Twilight said, then looked up as the theater’s lights started to flicker, “That’s my cue. Enjoy the performance!”
As Twilight Sparkle trotted off to the backstage, my host and his family took their seats. Conversation died down as the lights dimmed and a young dragon took the stage.
“Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of Celestia, and before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria, ponies did not know harmony. It was a strange and dark time. A time when ponies were torn apart ... by hatred!” the dragon began, and ponies gasped in astonishment. Maybe I didn’t fully understand, since it didn’t sound all that different from the world I lived in, the world created, no doubt, because of the actions of many of the ponies in this theater.
As the dragon went on, and the Ministry Mares made their appearances, however, I became enthralled with the story. It was an ancient tale of how Equestria had been founded by six ponies who seemed only to want to fight. It wasn’t the history I often searched for, but it was inspiring nonetheless. By the time the play came to a close, I wished I was able to stand and applaud, and Shining Armor thankfully did that for me. As the Ministry Mares took their bows, the memory came to an end, and I returned to reality.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
The sight of the darkened ceiling came back to me. Carefully, I placed the memory orb back in its case and returned it to my saddlebags. If Shining Armor had preserved that memory, it must truly have been the last Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant. It also shed light on the darkening of Equestria. So far, the only other memories I’d seen were from later in the War, when Equestria was busy plunging headfirst toward the disaster that had wiped it away, but Shining Armor’s recordings indicated that the nation was once a much happier place. The cancelling of the Heath’s Warming Eve pageant, while practical, was just another step toward the nation’s decline. Perhaps it reminded ponies that peace, even between sides adamantly against each other, was possible without a victor, and that had been taken away, perhaps blinding ponies to the effect the escalation of the War would have.
My ponderings were interrupted as I heard movement in the corridor outside. Silently, I crept to the door and stared out through the peephole. The travelers we’d seen checking in when we arrived were trotting down the hallway, rubbing sleep from their eyes with their hooves. They were being led by Red Ribbon, who didn’t look tired at all. I checked the time on my PipBuck; there was no reason for anypony to be up and about at this time. Most peculiar.
That uneasily feeling crept up on me again, and this time I let it get the better of me. I crept over to my saddlebags and found the StealthBuck I’d acquired earlier that day. After putting on my saddlebags and some of my weapons (in case I ran into trouble), I plugged the StealthBuck in and activated it. Now completely invisible, I waited until the ponies in the hallway had vanished before creeping out through the door, shutting it silently behind me.
It didn’t take me long to catch up to them, since they were taking the stairs, not the elevator, and soon I was close behind. The travelers were still mostly asleep and stumbled occasionally down the stairs. Nopony was in much of a talking mood, so I wasn’t able to learn what they were doing so late at night. When we reached the ground floor, Red Ribbon continued on, leading the group down another flight of stairs to the basement, and a few of them began to grumble.
“Not to worry, not to worry,” she said cheerily, “All will be explained soon.”
They followed her through a set of double doors into the basement, too groggy to realize what awaited them. I, on the other hoof, was wide awake and realized immediately what was wrong with the situation. There were several pieces of equipment in the hotel’s basement, but at the center of the room were several operating tables covered in prodigious amounts of blood. Harmony Tower’s other residents emerged from the shadows, and I barely managed to avoid getting my tail caught as the doors slammed shut behind me.
“What-what is this?” Red Ribbon asked, somehow just as shocked as me.
“Twenty-four, Eighty-seven, move her aside,” the desk clerk ordered and two more of the bundled-up ponies jumped to the task, pulling Red Ribbon away.
“Hold on! What do you think you’re doing?” one of the travelers demanded fearfully as he backed away from the crowd of townsponies, and only ended up backing into one of them, who seized him.
“Please do not resist,” the desk clerk sighed as the other three travelers tried to avoid or fight off the ponies who moved to restrain them, “The process works so much better if you are alive during the transplant.”
I backed away into a corner of the room, careful not to get in anypony’s way. Something bad was definitely about to happen, but there was nothing I could do about it. The space was too small, and there were way too many Harmony Tower ponies for me to take them all on myself. They’d shut the doors and had guards posted, so I couldn’t go get Rare and take advantage of her overwhelming firepower, either. I could try to fight past the guards and make a run for it, but the moment I attacked I would be visible, and they seemed supernaturally strong, so I didn’t think I had much chance of victory. Instead, I hid in the corner, watched, and waited for an opportunity to do something.
Though the travelers continued to resist, they were no match for their attackers, and were soon subdued. One of the ponies went around injecting each with a tranquilizer so they would be no more trouble, then strapped them down on the operating tables, leaving one open.
“Eleven, you’re up first,” the one who’d administered the tranquilizers said, and the desk clerk—the leader—trotted over to the open operating table and began removing his clothing.
My eyes bulged in astonishment as I saw the pony beneath. I’d noted that his eyes had been different colors, but that was only the start of things. His whole body was a patchwork assortment of parts, not all of them fitting together perfectly. His coat was dozens of different colors, and I had a sinking suspicion of where they’d come from. Some of them looked old and worn out, including his right ear, which seemed almost to be putrefying. It was the first piece to be removed by the “doctor” and thrown in a garbage bin.
“No! No! What are you doing?!” Red Ribbon screamed, trying to break free of the ponies restraining her (who actually seemed to be having trouble holding onto her, unlike the travelers) as the doctor-pony began slicing off the ear of one of the travelers.
“One-oh-nine! Wipe her memories again!” Eleven ordered, and another of the ponies had Twenty-four and Eighty-seven drag her to a seat and strap her in.
Red Ribbon continued to scream and try to break free as they secured her head in place and placed a gag in her mouth. One-oh-nine moved around to a terminal fastened behind the seat and inserted a cable from it into Red Ribbon’s ear. Tears streamed from the mare’s eyes as she tried and failed to break free to stop the doctor-pony from chopping off other parts of the travelers to replace the ones that had worn out on Eleven.
She suddenly became still as One-oh-nine entered a command in the terminal and her eyes became glassy. After a few seconds, her body went limp and her eyes closed. One-oh-nine unfastened her restraints and instructed Twenty-four to carry her upstairs and keep her out of sight until all the guests had gone. As they carried her out, I considered making a dash for the door, but the opening wasn’t enough for me to escape.
I stayed concealed in my corner, invisible and trembling with anger at what I was watching but was powerless to stop. They continued to cut up the travelers they’d lured down to the basement, transplanting their parts onto themselves. The mystery of why they really wore so many clothes was answered; one look at the monstrosities underneath and ponies would know in an instant that something was amiss. The residents of Harmony Tower weren’t really ponies either; they were machines. I caught glimpses as the doctor cut away bits of flesh of metal and electronics. They’d coated themselves in other ponies’ parts to blend in, but they weren’t themselves alive.
My hiding place was a good one, but as the time ticked on I began to worry what would happen when my StealthBuck wore off. Would I be the next one dissected for parts? What about Rare? Clearly, they’d taken all four of the traveler so that none of them would be missed; if I wasn’t to be missed, they’d need to round up my companion as well. Out of her Steel Ranger armor, I didn’t know how many of these things she could hold off; clearly not all of them.
Thankfully, it didn’t come to that, as the robots finished their grisly work before the StealthBuck’s invisibility field became null. They seemed pleased with their new parts and reluctantly donned the clothing that would make them seem normal to a casual observer. A few of them stayed behind to clean up what was left of the travelers and incinerate it along with the discarded pieces of flesh. It was only after they’d left and my EFS indicated there was nopony outside the door that I crept from my hiding place.
Before attempting an escape, I examined the device they’d used to wipe Red Ribbon’s memories. The terminal wasn’t locked, so getting in was a breeze. Two options were available: Download Memories and Install Memories. Hundreds of files were stored in the device, each with a timestamp and duration of weeks or months. It seemed they’d been using her for quite a long time to lure travelers to their doom here, wiping her memory each time. Quite a long time, as in nearly a century. Red Ribbon was no normal pony either, but she wasn’t one of them. She still had all her original parts (or they’d replaced them all at the same time.) In any case, she didn’t seem to be doing this willingly, which could be the key to putting a stop to this once and for all.
I crept over to the doorway and levitated my screwdriver and bobby pin to pick the lock. It gave way easily enough, but when I tried to push the doors open, they stopped before going too far. To make extra sure nopony found their dark secret, they’d locked a chain across the doors. I slid a bobby pin under the door, but the screwdriver wouldn’t fit. The tool was used mainly for applying leverage to the lock, so I tried something new. If it didn’t work, then I was doomed, so what was the risk in trying? I levitated the bobby pin up to the lock and manipulated it like normal while using my magic to apply the pressure the screwdriver usually did. It was tricky, and I lost several bobby pins in the attempt; even so, I didn’t jam the lock and eventually heard a satisfying click.
I replaced the chain and lock (but didn’t lock it) after escaping the basement and headed upstairs. I was still invisible by the time I reached room 403, and since there were no Harmony Tower residents in sight, I let myself in. Rare Sparks turned in surprise as I entered the room, seeing only a door open and close, but her shock abated when I deactivated the StealthBuck and revealed myself.
“Where were you?” she asked, “When I woke up you were gone, and I was just about to go looking for you.”
“Good thing you didn’t,” I said as I discarded the used StealthBuck, “There’s something terrible going on here.”
I proceeded to explain everything I’d seen to Rare, and she grew as horrified as I had been.
“That’s … barbaric. How can we stop them?” she asked when I’d finished, “I was going to bring it up whenever we returned to the PRS, but my ammunition is getting dangerously low.”
“I don’t think starting to shoot them all is a good idea, anyway. They’ve got supernatural strength and many of their internal organs are machinery, not flesh. They’ve also got the numbers necessary to swarm us. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my body diced up and plastered onto a dozen different robots,” I said, “We need to find Red Ribbon. They’ve been using her to lure travelers in, but she’s not part of it. Maybe if we can restore her memories, she’ll know some way we can stop them.”
“Where is she, though?” Rare asked, “You said they were taking her somewhere safe until the other guests—us—left. Where would they hide her?”
“I’d say the basement, but she’s definitely not down there,” I said.
“So, the opposite direction then,” Rare Sparks said, “Did you notice in the elevator that the twelfth floor is out of order?”
“It’s a start,” I said, “Hopefully there aren’t any others around to interfere with EFS.”
“Or catch us in the act,” Rare snorted.
“Right, or that,” I admitted.
I retrieved the rest of the weapons I’d left behind during my investigation while Rare climbed back into her Steel Ranger armor. It would be hard to explain what we were doing snooping around on the twelfth floor or in the basement if we got that far, and it paid to be ready for anything. All kitted out, I made sure the hallway was clear before we left the hotel room. Thankfully, other than locking up the basement, the residents of Harmony Tower seemed very trusting of their guests. No guards were posted on the stairs, even as we passed the eighth floor, the last one I’d seen keys for in the lobby. A few pips appeared on my EFS as we passed by the ninth and tenth floors, where many of them apparently lived or otherwise congregated, but they were gone by the time we reached the twelfth floor—all but one.
There was a locked door at the top of the stairs, but I was able to pick it without too much difficulty. Immediately inside were signs warning us that renovation was underway, and the twelfth floor would be ready for guests soon. We blatantly ignored them and trotted on through the hallways until we located the room with the single green mark in it.
The robots had no idea that I knew their secret, so all of their marks on my EFS were friendly, making it possible that a foe awaited us behind this door. After picking the lock, I drew my shotgun before pushing the door open. I put the weapon away as I spied Red Ribbon sitting on her bed in the room.
“Oh. What are you doing here?” she asked innocently, “Are you a visitor? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”
“Sorry about this,” I said, knocking her unconscious with a nearby broom.
***
“Let me go! Help! Somepony help me!” Red Ribbon yelled as Rare and I strapped her into the seat in the basement.
Reluctantly, I tied a gag over her mouth on the off chance that the others upstairs would be able to hear her. Fortunately, they’d made that next to impossible by soundproofing the room. The same alterations that kept other ponies in the building from knowing that others were being murdered would now shield us from the murderers.
Once she was fully strapped in, I levitated the plug from its holder toward her ear. As I peered inside, I could make out two small contacts inside, hidden from view unless one knew exactly how to look. As I’d suspected, she wasn’t a pony either. Gently, I inserted the plug and attached it to the contacts. Trotting around to the terminal while Rare watched the door, I selected Install Memories and chose all of them.
Red Ribbon’s expression changed just like before and her body grew rigid. As the memories that had been stolen from her flowed back into her mind, her expression remained vacant and her eyes glazed, but tears began to flow from the corners. This continued for far longer than I would’ve liked until finally the terminal indicated that the transfer was done. Once I removed her gag and she didn’t resume screaming, I took that as a good sign and continued undoing her restraints.
“I … I remember … I remember everything,” Red Ribbon said, “But … how did you know?”
“I followed you down here last night,” I said, “I saw everything. What’s going on?”
“It’s coming back to me. There are still blank spots but … most of it’s still there,” Red Ribbon said, “We were created in a RoBronco research facility in Vanhoover. Pondroids … synthetic ponies, more than robots. The others overthrew the researchers, forced me to come along, using the Chair to wipe my memories whenever I learned the truth. They weren’t perfect … older models’ flesh couldn’t self-regenerate like mine … had to be replaced periodically. That’s when they came up with Harmony Tower. It’s isolated, and they only had to pick off a few groups a year, so it went unnoticed. Ponies die in the Wasteland all the time, after all. They … they used me to trap them. I-I helped them murder ponies.”
“You didn’t know what you were doing, that much is clear,” Rare Sparks said as she continued to watch the door, “You can still make up for it, though. How can we stop these … pondroids, short of shooting our way out?”
“I know a way,” Red Ribbon said, her speech becoming more focused, “The microspark reactor here in the basement. If I overload it to send out an electromagnetic pulse, it’ll fry their circuits for good. My few electronic parts are sufficiently shielded, but your armor and your PipBuck aren’t. You’ll need to be out of the building when I do it.”
It was suspicious, but unlike the other suspicion I’d felt upon entering Harmony Tower, I sensed there were no grounds behind this suspicion. What other choice did we have but to trust her to take care of things? If she was lying, then we could still spread word about what was going on here or stand ready to keep as many pondroids from escaping the building as possible.
“Okay, do what you have to do,” I said.
Red Ribbon headed off to sabotage the reactor, I hoped, and not to alert the pondroids to our presence. We had no trouble checking out of the hotel, anyway, Eleven even wishing us safe travels, his new ear twitching under his cap as he did so. Red Ribbon hadn’t specified how far away we’d need to be to avoid being caught in the pulse as well, so we stood well back away from Harmony Tower and waited.
The wait was excruciating, and there was no way to tell if things had gone wrong. If we’d been within range of EFS, at least we’d be able to tell if we’d been found out by the pips flipping to hostile, but there was no sign. Suddenly, without warning, lightning crackled from Harmony Tower, arcing across it for several seconds before dissipating. If that hadn’t taken the pondroids out, then nothing would.
Rare and I ran into the building and took in the lobby filled with bodies. They were stolen bodies, of course, the ponies they belonged to having already died. Now they were finally laid to rest, and the metal skeletons that had worn them were done for. Red Ribbon trotted into the lobby while we were still taking in the sight.
“It’s done,” she proclaimed, even though it was obvious, “No more ponies have to die because of them.”
“You know, I’m glad somepony is able to say that,” Rare joked about our own quest.
“What do you mean by that?” Red Ribbon asked quizzically.
“We’ve been searching Mr. Bucke for a long time now. He destroyed a town, and we’re trying to stop him from doing the same to other settlements,” I explained.
“Only we haven’t had much luck at that,” Rare Sparks bemoaned, “Wherever we go, he always seems to be a step ahead.”
“I think it’s time we give up on chasing Mr. Bucke,” I aired what I’d been thinking for the last day, surprising Rare, “We still need to find him and stop him, yes, but chasing him all over the Wasteland like this isn’t the way to do it. He’s part of an organization: the Northern Lights Coalition. We need to go after them, since they’re what enable him to hide like he has.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Rare commented once she’d heard the whole thing, “From what we’ve learned about them in our search, they’re quite a threat themselves.”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Red Ribbon spoke up, “I’d like to join you. You both seem like decent ponies, plus I owe you for freeing me. There’s nothing for me here anymore. I’d like to travel with you, if youll have me.”
This was certainly abrupt, but I could think of no reason to say no. Other than the fact that she had been created in a lab, Red Ribbon was every bit like a normal pony. If she had strength like the other pondroids, then she would also be quite an asset on our quest. Also, she was right; there was nothing left for her at Harmony Tower. It wasn’t the worst idea, and one could always use more friends in the Wasteland.
“A synthetic pony,” Rare Sparks mused, “We’ve already got a Wasteland Doctor who’s not a doctor and a Steel Ranger Inquisitor; I think you’ll fit right in, Red Ribbon.”
“About that,” she said as Rare spoke her name, “Red Ribbon brings up too many bad memories. It’s what the other pondroids called me while I was their slave; it’s not my real name. I am P-8CH.”
“That’s not really a name, more like a serial number,” Rare pointed out, “Besides, how would you pronounce it? Paetch? Aech?”
“Ache,” P-8CH said definitely, “Call me Ache.”
“Well, Ache,” I said, “Glad to have you with us.”
Level Up
New Perk: Pack Rat – You are skilled at arranging items in your saddlebags. All small items now effectively weigh half their weight for purposes of carrying capacity.
New Quest Perk: Improvised Locksmith – A screwdriver is no longer necessary to pick locks.
New Companion: P-8CH “Ache” – A highly-advanced pondroid capable of self-regeneration, Ache is skilled with both conventional weapons and in unarmed combat, taking advantage of her superior synthetic strength, speed, and durability.
New Quest: Northern Lights – Find out more about the Northern Lights Coalition.
Energy Weapons +3 (77)
Explosives +3 (62)
Lockpick +4 (60)
Melee Weapons +3 (52)
Repair +2 (33)
Sneak +5 (70)