Brightly Lit

by Penalt


Chapter 23: 9 to 5

“So after we made our way past the fallen trees, all we had to do was just get the tower back up and then the folks at Hydro were good enough to get the dam running again,” Montcalm said, trying not to grit his teeth. So many reporters had shown up, he had been forced to turn the simple interview into a full blown press conference and move the whole thing into the vehicle bay.

“It was a lot more than that, wasn’t it?” one reporter asked, his mike thrust outward. “What about the fight with the manager at BC Hydro?”

“There were some difficulties, yes,” Montcalm admitted, trying not to let his frustration show. He had to work with BC Hydro, and he wasn’t about to throw them all under the bus just because of one idiot. “We managed to resolve the situation, that’s the important thing.”

“Do you have any comment about the state of repair of the Carmanah Dam?” asked another reporter.

Oh, you people are just waiting for me to blow my temper, aren’t you? Montcalm thought to himself, aloud all he said was, “Well, there are a few disadvantages in living in one of the last great coastal rain forests. Among which is that sometimes things don’t get maintained as much as we would like them to be. BC Hydro has a repair team on the way, and I’m sure they’ll get everything squared away.”

Brian Cummins studied the mayor intently. So far, for someone who was the mayor of a town at the end of nowhere he was playing the game like a seasoned pro, giving responses that seemed like substantive answers without actually giving him and his fellow reporters anything to work with. Brian had broken the original story about the radio transcript and that bit of work had won him the lead spot here. It was time to show Global that they had sent the right person for the job.

“Brian Cummins, Global News,” he said, when Montcalm pointed to him. “Who’s Seeker?”

“What?” Montcalm asked, blinking at the non-sequitur as the other reporters turned to look at Brian or start checking their notes.

“On the leaked radio transcript you can be heard saying, ‘C’mon kid. One more miracle, that’s all I ask’ and a moment later someone else yells out ‘Come on, Seeker. You can do it.’ A minute or so after that the connection with the dam was made, telling me this Seeker individual 'did it',” Cummins paused for a moment. “So, I’d like to know who ‘Seeker’ is and if we could ask them some questions?”

Montcalm froze and his sudden “deer in the headlights” look was everything that Cummins could have wanted. He knew that there was some sort of story there, and a deeply personal one to the mayor at that.

“It’s a callsign,” said another man leaning in across Montcalm to speak. “We used to use them all the time but then we switched to just using our names. Sometimes when things get stressful we slip back into old habits. That’s all.”

“The question stands, sir,” Cummins said, recognizing the man speaking from his background documents as Ernest Harding, who was listed as the fire department’s entry specialist. “Who is Seeker? I’m sure everyone would like to talk to the po… person who saved the dam.”

“Um, they are… that is...” Harding said, searching for the right words to say.

“They aren’t here today,” Montcalm said, motioning Ernie to step back beside Kevin. “A few members of our team are feeling a little under the weather and are home resting. Next question please.”

“Could we at least get their name, for our articles?” Brian asked, every news instinct screaming at him even while a part of his mind mocked him for almost saying “pony” for some reason, in place of the word “person.”

“Their name?” Montcalm asked, eyes narrowing as he looked at the nosy reporter. “I told you, they are home resting. When they are up to taking questions, I’ll be more than happy to provide you with their details. Until then, I’ll thank you to not bother my people until they are feeling better.”

It was at that moment that the special phone in Darrell Montcalm’s office chose to ring again. The reporters looked at each other in surprise as the odd double ring carried throughout the building and was echoed by a the buzz of a pager at Montcalm’s waist.

“Sorry folks, I have to get that,” Montcalm said, silently thanking all the gods for the timely interruption. “That’s the direct line from Emergency Management BC, and I’m sure they have some important information for me.” He, and the other four members of the department that were present turned and walked away towards Montcalm’s office, leaving the reporters in their wake.

“That was some quick thinking, Ernie,” Ben said, closing the door of Darrell’s office behind him and shutting the reporters out. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack when that one guy started asking about Seeker.”

“Hold up, people,” Montcalm said, holding up a hand for silence. “I really do have to get this.” The other men in the room quieted as their chief picked up the emergency phone from its charging cradle, and hit the “Accept” button.

“Brightly VFD, Chief Montcalm speaking,” Darrell said, into the phone.

“Mr. Montcalm, it’s good to hear your voice. I’m not sure if you recognize mine though,” a pleasant sounding man said from the other end.

“Mr. Premier,” Montcalm replied, and the rest of the men in the room all stood up straighter as they realized who was on the line. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You and your team demonstrated some of the best qualities of British Columbians recently,” Premier Horgan said. “I know that in the past, Victoria has seemed to ignore the great efforts and sacrifices you and yours make for those around you. So, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for your service. Both as Mayor and as Fire Chief for Brightly.”

“Well, thank you very much, sir,” Montcalm said, pleased in spite of himself. “I’ve got a good team of people backing me up. I couldn’t have done it without them.”

“That sort of lifting others up is why I nominated you and your team for the British Columbia Medal of Good Citizenship,” Horgan said, and Montcalm could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve been told by the Lieutenant Governor that the award has been approved for you and your team. I’d like to come up on Sunday, and present you folks with the recognition you deserve for your actions.”

“Sunday should be fine, Sir,” Montcalm said, and as his eyes landed on Ernie Harding he thought back to those desperate moments on the hill at the dam, and of Ernie’s two children in the skies above. “Sir, can I ask you a favor?”

“Depends what it is,” Horgan said, intrigued. It wasn’t often that someone asked for a favour so directly. Usually there was a lot more give and take about this sort of thing, but mutual benefit was often how the best and most enduring political alliances were formed.

“Sir… we weren’t alone out there,” Darrell said, and he saw Ernie’s eyes go wide. “We had some civilian auxiliaries with us and to be honest, we couldn’t have done what we did without them.”

“Okay, I’m assuming that there is some sort of complication with them,” Horgan said. “Otherwise you would have already given me their names to add to the list for the medal.”

“They’re underage,” Montcalm said. “We deputized them properly into the fire department after they pretty much made sure we had to take them with us, but they’re all kids.”

“I’m fine with adding them to the list of recipients, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Horgan said, pressing.

“Yes sir, there is,” Montcalm said, wondering what this was going to cost him. “For one thing, their names can’t be in the public record. At least not yet.” Montcalm could almost see the premier’s eyebrow go up over the phone.

“Secret heroes, eh?” Horgan asked, then chuckled briefly. “The Lieutenant-Governor isn’t going to be terribly pleased about that, but I think I can find a way to convince him to sign off on it. Was there anything else?”

“Yes, Mr. Premier, there is,” Montcalm said, taking a steadying breathe, “but that will have to wait until you get here… and have a private meeting with the five young people in question.”

“Five is it? And a secret meeting on top of it,” Horgan said, musing. “You know, I’ve been needing someone to spearhead a proposal at the next meeting of the UBCM.” Which was the premier’s way of letting Montcalm know what the price would be for what he was asking for.

“Sounds interesting, Mr. Premier,” Montcalm said, swallowing as he realized how deep the waters he was in were. “I would be happy to go over the proposal with you while you were here and offer some feedback.” Which was Montcalm’s way of telling Horgan that he would be willing to pay that price for his people.

“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of work to do Mr. Mayor, so I’ll let you get to it,” Horgan said, both intrigued and pleased at how the phone call had gone. “I’ll see you on Sunday then. Peter from my staff will contact you later with the details. Oh, one last thing. Make sure you have Jessica Harkins at the award ceremony, we’d like to give them some extra recognition from their community.”

“Yes, Mr. Premier,” Montcalm said, realizing what Horgan’s other agenda had been. “I’ll make sure they are present. Goodbye.” A split second after he pressed the “End” button on the phone, Ernie exploded at him.

“What do you think you are doing?” Ernie shouted, causing Ben to peek out the door to make sure all the reporters actually had gone. “How dare you play politics with my kids!”

“Calm down for a minute and listen,” Montcalm said, to the angered father of two. “We have to tell Horgan about the kids.”

“What?” Ernie asked, barely keeping his voice under control. “In God’s name, why?”

“This oughta be good,” Kevin murmured.

“Not helping, Kevin,” Montcalm said, before looking back over at Ernie. “Seriously, I didn’t have a choice. I’m not happy with it, but it had to be done.”

“Darrell, I’m giving you one chance to explain yourself,” Ernie said, with the voice of a man holding a dozen demons on the end of a fraying leash. “And you better make it a good one.”

“Allright, Ernie. Hear me out at least, before you do something you regret,” Montcalm said. “The pony thing is spreading. If it was just the kids, we might be able to contain it and keep it hidden. At least enough so that those kids can live somewhat normal lives.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far,” Ernie said, calming and considering his mayor’s words.

“Like I said, the pony thing is spreading.” Montcalm said, leaning back in his chair. “First the kids, then Mrs. Pedersen and your wife, then the Adamscheks, and now Jessica and Arnold. On top of that, there seems to be a tendency starting up for people, once they become ponies, to stay as ponies.”

“But they’re still people,” Ernie said, stabbing a finger towards the ground. “Good, decent people.”

“That they are,” Montcalm said, nodding in agreement. “But not everyone is going to take things as calmly as we are. To be honest, I’m wondering if some of whatever is enabling these transformations is also helping us mentally adapt to all this.”

“This is Brightly. We take care of our own here,” Ernie said, defiance in his voice.

“Damn straight,” Ben said, moving to stand beside Ernie. “If I thought, even for a moment, that someone wanted to hurt Seeker. They wouldn’t be a problem for long.”

“Easy there, Tex,” Kevin said, as he leaned against the wall. “I think what the mayor is driving at is that folks outside of Brightly might not react like we have. They might get worried, they might get scared, and scared people do stupid things.”

“And scared governments can do even worse things,” Montcalm said, nodding. “We’ve all seen the politics down south over the past few years. Can you imagine what would happen if this had happened in America?”

“Area 51,” John Vatten said, and heads turned toward the quiet man who had dared Death to just try to take Iron Hoof. “Men in Black, cover ups, and those kids would disappear, never to be seen again. Unless of course they didn’t get gunned down by someone first.”

“Right,” Montcalm said. “The big difference between Canada and the US, is that we tend to talk things to death before we do anything. If we can get the Premier on our side now, working with us… If we can make him understand that those kids, and anyone else who, ‘ponifies’ I guess the word would be; if we can make him understand that ponies can be a valuable part of the province and not something to be feared we have a real good shot at making this all normal.”

“What guarantee is there that he won’t push the panic button, and have the RCMP and the army here as fast as he can?” Ernie asked.

“Horgan won the election only just,” Montcalm said, smiling. “And that only because the Green Party formed a coalition with him, and the Green Party are—”

“Environmentalists,” Ben said, loudly as he smacked a fist into a palm. “There’s no way they would let cute little ponies be harmed or exploited.”

“Bingo,” Montcalm said. “He needs the Greens, which means even if he wanted to he has no choice but to play nice. On top of that, my getting into a quid pro quo with him makes sure that we don’t have to worry about him deciding to take chances.”

“Sorry, Darrell,” Ernie said. “You knew what you were doing, again.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ernie,” Montcalm said, getting up and clapping the man on the shoulder. “Those are your kids. I don’t blame you one bit for worrying about what’s going to be happening with them. Anyway, I’m headed down to the docks in a couple of hours. The BC Hydro teams are due to land about then and I want to give them some directions.”


Shaushka stood on the deck of the large flat vessel, holding onto the railing as the ship bounced up and down over the waves. The old captain had told her that the seas were actually pretty mild for this time of year, but that hadn’t stopped her from hanging onto a railing anytime she had gone anywhere. Her two crews had taken it the waves in stride, some of them even napping in their vehicles.

Technically, they were all on shift and sleeping on the job was a big “No-no” but it wasn’t like there was anything else to do, except recheck their equipment for a fourth time. Besides, once they landed the linemen were going to be working around the clock to get Brightly’s power grid up and running again. So, on the advice of the captain to not “sweat the small stuff” she’d let the men sleep undisturbed.

Which brought Shaushka’s thoughts to her other crew. She had an entire team of people whose job was to go over the Carmanah Dam with a fine toothed comb, looking for any problems. Of course, there already were the problems of a broken microwave relay and a floodgate stuck in the up position, but they could be dealt with. The overall plan had her scheduled for three days, plus a one day overlap just in case there were any unexpected problems.

Sahota had messaged her just before they had left Bella Bella, letting her know that all hell was breaking loose back in the Lower Mainland. Three managers, including Hemphill, had already been placed on suspension pending investigation, with likely more to come. Higher ups, knowing their jobs were on the line, were scrambling to find maintenance records for the Carmanah Dam, and finding none, were panicking.

Much as I hate to admit it, she did me a big favour putting me on this job, Shaushka thought to herself as the vessel turned around a headland and into a small inlet. There, a couple of kilometers ahead, she could see a set of docks and what looked like a large concrete ramp extending into the water from the shore. She made her way to the wheelhouse.

“I was just about to call you,” the captain said, smiling at her. “We’re about fifteen minutes out. You might want to start waking up your crew before we land.”

“Where are we docking?” Shaushka asked, mentally trying to fit the big watercraft in amongst the small boats and float planes that were tied up to the floating docks.

“Docking?” the man laughed. “We aren’t docking, we’re landing. See that concrete ramp? Well, we’re going to pull right up onto it and then I’ll extend the ramp and you folks can just drive right off. You better get moving.”

Thirty minutes later, Shaushka was watching her crew offload from the barge. Four line trucks, a truck carrying nothing but replacement power poles, a truck that was a combination workshop and small parts storage, and two general use trucks rolled off one at a time and pulled over to the side waiting for the rest of the crew to offload. The last truck was just coming up when a white pickup truck with “Village of Brightly BC” on the side pulled up and a tall, well built man in his fifties got out and approached her.

“Hi there, I’m looking for whoever is in charge of all this,” the man said.

“That would be me,” Shaushka said, sticking out her hand. “Shaushka, BC Hydro, and you are?”

“Mayor Montcalm, Village of Brightly,” Montcalm said, taking Shaushka’s hand and then cocking his head. “Wait a minute. Shaushka? As in ‘Tech Shaushka’?”

“Chief Montcalm!” Shaushka exclaimed, recognizing the voice as she smiled up at the older man, who grinned back with true pleasure. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You too,” Montcalm said, releasing the tech’s hand. “Got yourself a promotion, did you?”

“Wasn’t really my idea,” Shaushka said. “I’ll tell you about it later, but in the meantime i think you’ve got a power grid that needs fixing.”

“Indeed we do,” Montcalm said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a folded map of the town and area. “We’ve marked all the known locations where there’s a line down.”

“Thanks,” Shaushka said, taking the map and the two walked over to the lead truck with linemen in it.

“We’ve also got a place set up for your crew to stay,” Montcalm said, and saw ears all around perk up at that. “There’s a set of buildings, a camp really, that is set up as a command post and temporary lodging for forest firefighters during fire season. It’s got everything you could want. Beds, heat, water, a kitchen and dining hall, as well as an office with radios.”

“How does a town your size manage…” Shaushka trailed off as she realized her question might not be the most polite, but Montcalm simply laughed.

“We get paid to maintain it by Emergency Management,” Montcalm said. “Any idea on how long to get the lights back on?”

“This is my first time running an operation like this. So I have no idea,” Shaushka admitted, twirling a piece of green hair in her hand. “But my crew is going to be on the job constantly until we do. I’ve promised them a bonus if we can get the lights back on inside of 72 hours.”

“Sounds good to me,” Montcalm said. “Let me hop back in my truck and I’ll escort you folks into town and show you where the camp is. There’s a lot of people that are going to be awfully happy to see you folks.”


The man stood near the base of the muddy hill near the dam, and squatted down to take a closer look at what he had found. There was a small depression in the drying ground, with a matching one about five metres or so away. Bits of discarded wrappers from various bits of medical supplies were scattered around both of the dents in the ground. The man pulled up one of the wrappers, which turned out to be much larger than it appeared to be, being partly covered with a thin layer of mud. Underneath was a single feather and the man picked it up to examine. Sitting down on a nearby log he pulled out a digital voice recorder and began speaking.

“John Wilcox CKNW. It’s about four p.m. and I’m on the hill near the Carmanah Lake dam,” he said into the recorder. “Found a pair of spots where some small animals were treated. Something about the size of a large dog, but with hooves. Their tracks are all over the site including on the dam itself, and someone cared enough about them to use medical—” He broke off speaking as a sound came to his ears, he paused for a moment then began walking back toward his campsite.

“Sounds like the Hydro crew is getting here,” Wilcox said into the mike, as he strode quickly across the gravel parking lot. “It looks like these animals, miniature horses maybe, were part of what happened. Odd that there is no mention of them. Also, found unusual black feather with a silver tip. Not white, not silver coloured, but actual reflective silver. I’ll take a picture and upload it with this audio file. I’d like to know what kind of bird it came from.”

He got back to his encampment, and had just fired up his old Coleman stove when the first truck came out of the forest to pull up into the gravel parking lot. By the time a second truck had joined the first, and a man in a safety vest and hard hat started walking toward him, he had some coffee started on an old camp percolator.

“Hey there,” the workman said, when he had drawn close enough to talk. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad,” Wilcox replied genially. There was no sense starting things off on the wrong foot. “Coffee should be about another five or ten minutes if you want some.”

“I should be good for now,” the man said. “I just wanted to ask you to leave, if you wouldn’t mind. We're going to be doing a lot of loud, noisy work over the next few days, which probably won't be that good for camping. We’d be willing to drive you to another camping area, if you like.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Wilcox said, keeping his voice pleasant and his words polite. “I like this spot. It's a good place to watch… nature.” The workman’s eyes narrowed and they flitted across the campsite quickly. His breath caught as he saw the logo of the radio station Wilcox worked for, emblazoned on the backpack near the laid out, but not yet lit, campfire.

“You’re a reporter,” the man said, jaw working.

“I am,” Wilcox admitted. “John Wilcox. I’m with CKNW, and you are?”

“No comment,” the man said, his shoulders tensing. “All questions from the media are supposed to go through the BC Hydro Media Center.”

“Understood,” Wilcox said. “But I want to let you guys know two things.”

“And those are?” the man growled back.

“First, you guys are always welcome at my camp for a cup of coffee or whatever,” Wilcox said. “I won’t push, but I will ask questions. You don’t want to answer them, that’s fine. I can live with that. Second, I am a reporter and I am going to do my job. But I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t get in the way of your job. You tell me to get out of your way, and I’ll back off. You tell me safety regs, and I’ll follow them.”

“That’s actually… pretty reasonable,” the man said, his brows unfurling and the tension going out of his body.

“Well, I figured we could either have a couple of weeks of us trying to be asses to each other, or we could be adults about things,” Wilcox said, pausing before he baited the hook. “I’ve got a supply run coming in a couple of days. You guys want anything?”