//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - Overtures // Story: Pandemic: Aftermath // by ASGeek2012 //------------------------------// Sunny turned to Rainy as they stood near the outskirts of Pony Hope. "I'm leaving you in charge while I'm gone. You're to keep to the training schedule and--" "--and keep an eye on Thunderburst," Rainy said at the same time. "He's been a little over-eager in some of the endurance exercises and has strained a wing once already." Sunny glanced up at the clear blue Wednesday sky. "It's a little cooler this morning than I had expected. Make sure to--" Rainy again started speaking at the same time. "--keep the flow of warmth going for a few more days and break up any stable layer over the mountains to prevent windstorms. We've been over this like a dozen times. Chill out, already, I got this." Sunny slowly smiled. "I guess sometimes I forget how far you've come. You've taken to this almost as easily as I have." Rainy chuckled. "I may be good, but don't go comparing me to you. You're still the best." Sunny blushed faintly. "Seriously, I'm not." "Then why do pegasi fly here from miles away just to get trained by you?" "To be honest, I don't really know." "I do," said another voice. Sunny turned to see Goldy approaching them, smiling. "It's because you're very good at what you do." Sunny's blush deepened, despite being used to hearing such praise from the mayor. One of the reasons she liked Goldy so much was that she could be counted on to provide Sunny with some emotional support. In a way, Goldy had stepped into the role that Sunset Shimmer once had. Sunny would turn to her parents, but they were always so busy these days, what with Sarah working with Equestrian historians to learn more about those first contacts between Equestria and Earth so long ago, and Harold working on some new farming techniques and reconnecting with his father. "Yes, I'm good," Sunny said in a softer voice. "But I'm far from the best. I'm sure there are pegasi who are stronger and faster than I am." Goldy stepped closer. "Perhaps, but strength and speed are not all that matter. Just because you're not the Earth equivalent of Rainbow Dash doesn't mean you can't be proud of everything you've accomplished." Sunny was indeed proud of her accomplishments. She did often leave new recruits open-mouthed and wide-eyed when she showed off what she could do, but only as a demonstration of what they could do as well. "I'm definitely no Rainbow Dash," Sunny said with a weak chuckle. Goldy grinned. "You do share one thing with her." "Um, I do?" "Your hooves rarely touch the ground." Sunny glanced down, almost unaware she had been hovering all this time, her wings moving in a slow and steady beat without her having to think about it. She chuckled as she remembered how Jenny had teased her about that after they had all transformed. The memory was a bit bittersweet. She missed Jenny terribly, even though she knew that the separation would be good for Jenny while she sorted out her feelings about being human again and possibly pursuing a career. "That's about all I share with her," Sunny demurred. "Not all," said Goldy. "Like Rainy suggested, ponies look up to you, and not just other pegasi." "What they look up to is my former relationship with Sunset Shimmer," Sunny said in a low voice. "It's not necessarily something I want to be known for, especially when it comes to the Shimmerists." "They're not all that bad," Rainy murmured. "I never said they were. I just don't like them looking to me like I'm going to endorse them." Sunny realized the irony of her own statement. By agreeing to help Goldy, she was in a way making an endorsement. She hoped that it would be seen as one for the general pony cause and not any one group within it. Goldy gently lay a fore-hoof against Sunny's side. "Don't sell yourself short. Maybe they do see a little of Sunset Shimmer in you, and not in a bad way. When it comes down to it, despite how many of us understand she was wrong, we can't help but appreciate what she's given us." "And it's not like we're trying to force the transformation on humans," said Rainy. Goldy nodded. "Or even suggest that they pursue transformation. All we want is to show humans how life can be, that being a pony is not about having hooves or horns or wings. It's a philosophy, one of peace, friendship, and harmony." "That's definitely straight out of Harmonist beliefs," Rainy said in a neutral voice. "It's the platform that was agreed upon I should promote," said Goldy. "I thought it best to understand the Harmonist way as fully as possible." Sunny smiled at Rainy. "I thought you of all ponies would be happy for that. You took to those ideas pretty well when they started spreading through the town." "Well, yes, mostly," said Rainy. "Mostly?" Rainy scraped a fore-hoof back slightly. "I just mean ... well, yes, I was really into it for a while, but I guess I'm more like you, wanting to see the big picture." Sunny refrained from correcting her friend. Sunny's problem was that she couldn't see the "big picture" no matter how hard she tried. She could only do what she felt was best for the moment and the immediate future. She had hoped that smarter and wiser ponies would come up with the rest. She felt more like a catalyst than anything else. "That's what we're all trying to do," Goldy said. "Now, as much as I hate to break up this conversation, we do have to get going. Word has likely reached the human authorities that something is up, and we don't want to leave them speculating for too long." "Of course," Sunny said. She turned to Rainy and drew her into a hug. "I'm going to miss you! This will be the first time we'll be separated since we met in the shelter." She felt Rainy's forelegs tighten around her as her friend let out a quavering sigh. "I know, it's going to be weird not having you around." Sunny closed her eyes and took in her friend's familiar scent one more time. This was one thing she would never have given up about her transformation: the ability to show her feelings so easily for another. Rainy had become something she had not had in years: a best friend. Sunny broke off the embrace and wiped a tear from an eye. "Please, take care of yourself and don't push yourself too hard while I'm gone." "Don't worry, I won't make the snow more than, oh, three feet deep in that blizzard I was planning." "Rainy!" Sunny said in mock admonishment, and the two of them broke up into laughter. "But don't be surprised if I do try my hoof at snow while you're gone," Rainy said with a wink. "Light snow, that is." "Now, you know I want to wait on that a little longer," said Sunny in a more serious voice. "Sunny, please, don't worry about it. You know you can trust me." Sunny did trust her. Despite some of Sunny's misgivings about how her friend's thoughts have been going lately, she still felt a bond of trust existed between them. She refused to dictate to any pony, even those tacitly under her "command." Moreover, this was Rainy's chance to show she could handle other pegasi on her own. If she made mistakes, so be it. It was the only way she would learn. Nopony knew that better than Sunny herself. "Yes, I do," Sunny said softly. "I'll see you soon." They touched fore-hooves before finally turning away from one another. Other ponies had gathered at the edge of town to wish them well, smiling and waving as they approached. Above their heads, the escorting pegasus patrol flew in loose formation. Sunny glanced up at them. "Mayor Sunshine, I'll head up and lead the recon towards--" "Please, walk with me if you would," said Goldy. She smiled. "And I do mean walk." Sunny glanced at the ponies ahead. "Oh, um, I really should make sure the others in the wing know what to do." "They do. You trained them all personally. They can spare you for a short time." Sunny had not wanted to reveal her real reason for avoiding the others: she didn't want to go through yet another round of congratulations and admiration. Nevertheless, she landed next to Goldy and folded her wings. "Thank you," Goldy said. "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Goldy gazed ahead of them. "Not necessarily. Let's wait until we have passed the celebration up ahead." Sunny would not have quite used that term, though she revised her thinking when the waiting ponies closed around them to cheers and hoof-stomps. As she had feared would happen, more ponies wanted to encourage Sunny rather than Goldy. Sunny blushed, and her ears flattened slightly as she risked a glance at the mayor -- only then realizing that she should have been addressing the mare as First Pony all this time -- and discovered that Goldy was smiling, as if enjoying the fact that Sunny was getting most of the attention. This eased Sunny's guilt somewhat, and she was a little more enthusiastic in her replies until they were finally away from the town and starting down the road. "You have quite a following it would seem," Goldy said. "Oh, I wouldn't call it that, really." "Why not?" Sunny had not expected the question. She glanced back at the town, but by then the ponies had already left. "I never asked for a 'following.' I don't want ponies making me out to be more than I am." She looked at Goldy. "I've told you about my issues with responsibility." Goldy nodded. "Issues I understand you've mastered." "I still struggle with them sometimes, and having a lot of ponies act like that towards me reminds me I still have a way to go." Goldy smiled. "Then I would say this task of ours will do you some good. It will give you a chance to see that having others look up to you can be a source of strength rather than something to be feared." "Is that why you chose Minister of Friendship as my title?" "That was part of the reason, yes." Sunny had been reminded of her ongoing issues when they had debated over that title. Sunny would have been happy with something more low key like Consultant to the First Pony. "I guess I had never really looked at it in that way." "It helps to have another perspective. It's what we hope to give the humans." "I hope they'll listen," Sunny said with a small sigh. "We'll find a way, I'm sure of it." Sunny wished she could feel as confident as Goldy. She was just glad she wasn't doing this herself. The asphalt was still damp as the middle-aged woman eased her car down the strip of former human civilization stretching from the Denver Tech Center west into the hinterlands of the pony sector. Humans and ponies alike walked along either edge, along with a few humans on bicycles who carefully wove around the others. Many ponies waved at her as she passed, as did a few humans, and she did her best to wave back. "Can we open the window, Connie?" asked her companion in the passenger's seat beside her, a burly earth pony stallion with gray fur and olive green hair. "It looks like the pegasi made it shower earlier and I love the smell of fresh rain." Connie Morgan gave her companion a wry smile. "Trying to freeze me out, Ted? It's pretty chilly today," she said in a teasing voice even as she reached for the car window controls. Ted Miller chuckled. "I sometimes forget you don't have a nice coat of fur." Connie's smile widened. The windows on either side slid down, and cool air blew at her straight black hair. She brushed a few strands from her brown eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh scent of rain as much as her companion. "And you've been working with me for how long now?" "Not really all that long," said Ted. "I was rather surprised you managed to pull off an off-cycle election. Even more so when they elected me. I knew nothing about politics even as a human." "You're a city councilman," said Connie. "Well, councilpony. You don't need to be too political. In fact, I'd prefer it if you weren't." "In that case, I feel sorry for you. You still have the play those silly games." Connie gave him a wan smile. She, too, had hoped not to have to play political games when she became mayor of Greenwood Village, a municipality in southeast Denver that could boast having the Denver Tech Center within its borders. Nowadays it was a shadow of its former self; Greenwood Village was now better known for having its western district entirely within the pony sector. Connie had been told over unofficial channels from Washington that she didn't need to bother with that district, as it was nominally under the control of the federal government, and even then only to protect ponies from external violence. She didn't take kindly to being told to forget about a large chunk of people she considered her constituents -- ponies or no -- and insisted they do the same as the other three districts, namely elect a representative to the City Council. "I manage," Connie said as she glanced out the side window. She had been behind the push to keep some streets intact through the pony lands of her city in hopes it would encourage humans to interact with ponies more often. This ribbon of asphalt and concrete, she felt, was symbolic of a link she wanted to see between the humans and ponies. "We really should ask for some pegasi to spread some rain to the rest of the city," said Ted. "It's been so dry this season." "That's where I still have to play politics, unfortunately," said Connie. "Not to mention I'd be effectively violating federal law if I did that." "We could just suggest to them off the record that they make some rain for us but claim we didn't ask for it. They'd be more than happy to do it." "That's precisely what I don't want to do. That would just foster more distrust. I already have to deal with hotheads from district three." "I'm sure you can keep them in place if you apply enough pressure," said Ted. "You've got the public support." Connie had not wanted to admit that her position was more tenuous than it seemed. Already the council representative from district three -- a pony who wanted to keep his position after he transformed -- was the target of a recall election come November. His prospects of retaining his seat were not good, and his challenger held a staunch pro-human stance. Yes, she had public support, but mostly from district one -- all pony -- and district two -- the tech areas which bordered pony lands, and only because she had focused most of her time and energy on seeing those two districts get along. Districts three and four were further removed, mostly populated by people settled there by federal government programs designed to bring people closer to jobs. Most had lost their lucrative careers and now had to make do with jobs that paid only half as much, if that. They were not in the mood to be accommodating to ponies. Connie decided not to dash Ted's hopes. She much preferred to have someone optimistic on the Council, and no one was more optimistic than your average pony. She only needed to talk to her own daughter to understand that. "Let's just say that the post-ETS world has introduced far more challenges than I ever thought I would face." "I overheard you say that you considered stepping down" said Ted. "What changed your mind?" Connie smiled. "Christina changed my mind." "You mean the fact that she didn't rehumanize?" "No, she actually sat me down and told me point-blank 'Mom, you're not giving up.'" Ted smiled. "That's adorable." Connie's smile turned wistful. What she would not say -- either to Ted or Christina -- was that her daughter was part of the reason she thought she should step down. The stated reason was the need to dedicate herself to the challenge of raising a pony daughter; the real reason was she feared having a pony daughter would be seen as biasing herself towards pony concerns. She since tried to spin it as seeing her family as a bridge between the two groups, at least as long as it didn't involve Christina being used as a political pawn. Connie slowed the car and pulled off the street onto a concrete road which quickly gave way to packed earth. The street dead-ended in an open field converted into a parking lot. The sign near the entrance proclaimed "Please be mindful of ponies walking about! Not all of us fly and we're low to the ground!" As she pulled into a spot, she glanced at a sign posted above it: "Please respect our fresh air! Avoid idling your engine too long if you can." "That's a new one," Ted said as he gestured with a fore-hoof. "I was just thinking that myself." "I may have to ask who's idea that was, as it's really unnecessary. A single pegasus could keep this area clear of emissions." Nevertheless, Connie chose to respect the request and shut off her engine as soon as she had the car into the parking spot. She had already noticed it felt warmer, but it became even more apparent when she stepped out of the car and the bright sun shone down on her. She glanced up when a shadow passed overhead and saw several pegasi flying in a slow circle about the immediate area. "Your flying friends appear to be showing off their skill at micro-climates," Connie said with a small smile. "Yes, that's new as well," Ted said. "But, wow, look at the results!" Previously when Connie had visited this open air cafe, it had been populated largely by a throng of colorful ponies and a handful of humans, the latter dwindling as the weather grew colder. Now humans easily outnumbered them two-to-one. Most had flocked to the food stalls despite their purely vegetarian offerings, though the bakery stand had a fair share of patrons as well. Ted thrust a hoof towards one of the stalls. "And there's something you definitely don't see every day." Connie turned her gaze towards a stand selling fruit, nothing out of the ordinary in and of itself. What surprised her was the sign proclaiming Palisade peaches for sale; even more so was the sight of money exchanging hands -- or rather, hand to hoof. "Palisade peaches this late in the year?" said Connie. "They got in a late harvest with some pony help," said Ted. "I imagine some of that money is going back to the human part of the community. ETS had completely messed up the town's preparations for the growing season, but ponies worked with the humans there to recover the crops." Connie was still holding out hope that more ponies themselves would see the value of currency. If nothing else, it would help silence critics who claimed the ponies did little for the economy. Ted looked out over the tables where many humans were already seated, and more were joining them as they decided on their meals. "Sorry, if I knew it would be this crowded, I wouldn't have suggested coming here for a late lunch." Connie's smile widened. At many of the tables, ponies had joined the humans, and the two groups conversed with one another as easily as in any strictly pony or human gathering. If anything, she welcomed the crowd if it meant seeing this. "I mean, I don't mind," Ted continued. "I like having lots of people around since my transformation, but--" "It's perfectly fine," said Connie. "Let's get something to eat and find a table. I'm sure someone will accommodate us if there are no free ones left. Besides, I already told Christina's teacher I would be here." Ted chuckled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" "Damn right I am. This is the kind of thing I've been wanting to see more of." Ted glanced around. "And, of course, not a single reporter in sight. Can't have them reporting something good about human-pony relations, oh no, that's not dramatic enough." Connie chuckled and gave Ted a playful poke in the side. "Stop being so cynical, it's unbecoming of you." "Ponies can be just as cynical as humans, thank you." Connie smirked. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Come on." Since this cafe was located within the pony sector, it catered to pony tastes as well. Offerings were clearly marked if they contained anything that only ponies would likely find palatable, such as hay or flowers. Yet there was enough overlap that most meals were unmarked. As much as Connie enjoyed seeing the two species interact, she knew what drew a lot of humans here was the price, as few ponies actually charged money for the meals they prepared. With the economy still in shambles, this was a place people of limited means could go to get something better than the sub-par food at relief centers. Often, something was given in exchange for the meal. It could be something as small like a trinket that might look nice as decoration in a pony home, or a bit of hand-crafted jewelry or decorative scarf, or something to make it easier to use human-designed tools while they caught up with crafting pony-adapted ones. The ponies didn't require the exchange, merely suggested it, but many humans did it anyway. To most, this made the assistance seem much less like a handout as it would at a relief center. Connie parted from Ted briefly, the councilpony preferring something from the strictly pony offerings. Despite no meat in the offing, the huge variety made it difficult for her to decide. It also didn't help that the pony vendors would engage in conversation at the drop of a hat, and many recognized her on sight. She finally had to decide on an egg salad just so she could excuse herself. As she backed away and was about to turn around, she nearly tread on the feet of a fellow human. She lost her footing until a set of strong, wiry fingers snapped closed around her wrist. Only once she had righted herself did the fingers release her. "My apologies," said a tall and thin-faced man. "No, I should be the one to apologize, I nearly stepped on your feet," said Connie. "But thank you for helping me avoid a fall." The man smiled. "It's what any human would do for another fellow human. We don't need ponies to teach us that." While the statement was delivered without a shred of hostility, Connie couldn't help but be somewhat put off by the choice of words. "True," Connie replied in a diplomatic tone. "But ponies do help remind us of our better qualities." The man considered for a moment before he nodded once. "I accept that. Are you looking for some company, by any chance?" Connie's instinct would have had her answer "no", but there was literally only one table left in the cafe. She glanced about to see if Ted had sat at a table, but he was strangely absent despite rarely taking long to choose a meal. "I would be fine with sharing a table with you." The man nodded and made an "after you" gesture. Connie headed over to the table and sat, the man sitting opposite her. He looked towards a nearby table where an earth pony had hopped into the remaining chair and introduced himself. The man pointed and said, "Now therein lies the crucial difference between ponies and humans." Connie took a moment to unwrap her meal. Its aroma made her stomach rumble in anticipation. "And what's that?" The man turned his gaze back to Connie. "I respected your boundaries. I asked to join you first before simply imposing myself on you." "Ponies are naturally social beings. Humans are as well." "Yes, but humans don't have a herd mentality." Connie decided to sate some of her hunger first with a few bites of her meal, not caring very much about her table manners. "I don't believe I caught your name." "Ryan." "Connie," Connie responded. She usually gave her full name, but she wanted to see if Ryan actually recognized her. Ryan leaned forward and folded his hands before him. "Ponies are not to be marveled, they're to be pitied." "Just because they're more friendly than us?" "Humans were shaped by the world we evolved in as well as by God," said Ryan. "Neither of them ever intended for us to live as those creatures." "And yet, here we are," said Connie. "It's the world we live in, and we don't have much choice about it." "Ah, but we do. Some can be brought back into the light." "Perhaps I'm not the best--" Ryan leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. "Did you know that many faiths have their own accounts of the so-called 'end days' and have been trying to fit them into current events? Take Revelation for instance. It speaks of the 'mark of the beast.' It should be obvious what potential interpretation would arise if one feels it is being thinly disguised as a 'cutie mark.'" Connie liked to consider herself a decent Christian, even if she didn't follow any one particular denomination. She had long since made an accommodation between her beliefs and the reality of the post-ETS world. "With all due respect, I don't hold to your beliefs in this matter." Ryan waved a hand. "That was merely an example, not necessarily my own belief, mind you. People have been trying to fit visions of a religious apocalypse to actual events for centuries. But you raise another point: had that been my belief, I would not have forced it upon you. Consider it another means by which I respect your boundaries." "Then if I may ask, what are you doing here?" asked Connie. "Looking for those whose humanity might be saved." "Saved? As in rehumanized?" "It is more than just exchanging their body for another," said Ryan. "It's their minds and -- if you're of the religious type -- their souls that are corrupt, and the body is just a physical manifestation of that. All our bodies will decay upon death regardless of what they look like. Even the rehumanization process itself is not perfect, nor can it be applied if the mind is still in the clutches of the delusion that they have succumbed to." "To be perfectly blunt, you're not going to get much of an audience here for your preaching," Connie deadpanned. "I am no preacher," said Ryan. "One does not need to thump a Bible to spread truth." Connie paused to enjoy her meal, though she had to admit some of the atmosphere had been spoiled, yet she was too curious to want to drop the matter. "And just who do you believe can be 'saved' as you put it?" "Anyone who is not marked is capable of being saved," said Ryan. "Their minds have not yet been lured into believing the false truths of the Equestrians who insist it is natural to be one of these creatures." "You're taking that out of context," said Connie. "It was meant in the sense that the transformation left them in that state, not that it was desirable." "Ah, then we are in agreement on one point," said Ryan with a smile. "It is most certainly not a desirable state." Connie felt more like she was maneuvered into agreement with him, and using a very loose definition of that word. "The longer they continue to think that their state is natural or even desirable, the more they will corrupt others to their line of thinking," Ryan continued. "Something must be done to stop this. Bringing as many back to humanity is the most desirable option. In the end, however, the corruption must be stopped." Before Connie could think of a reply, a bright, high-pitched voice suddenly cried out, "Hey, Mom!" Ryan glanced to the side, one eyebrow rising slightly. "Forgive the interruption to our conversation," said Connie. "But I'm also here to pick up my daughter." Ryan smiled, though it looked partially forced. "Of course." Connie had hoped to stand and put some distance between herself and Ryan, but a little pale blue-furred unicorn filly with a wild green mane streaked with yellow came galloping towards her. She had only just enough time to turn in her chair before the filly jumped into her arms. She hugged her nine year old daughter Christina, the fresh scent of rain on her fur. "How was my little pony's day today?" Christina drew back so she could fix her cyan gaze on her mother. "It was great, Mom! I was able to practice a bit with my horn today. I can almost lift stuff now!" Connie smiled. She sometimes could not understand how ETS managed to rip families apart. Her daughter was still her daughter. Yes, Christina had changed, and not just exchanging one body for another. She was definitely a different person after ETS than before, with radically different drives and motivations. Yet Connie could look into those large pony eyes and still see something of the same Christina she had raised. An added bonus was Christina's diminished size and weight. Connie could lift and hold her like when she was younger. She used it to help her remain as close to her daughter -- physically and emotionally -- as she could. She shifted her gaze when an earth pony mare with light orange fur and a white mane approached. "Chrissie was a delight as always, Mrs. Morgan," said Christina's teacher Peach Blossom. "She's one of my brightest pupils. She's always wanting to learn." "We learned more about Twilight Sparkle today!" Christina said brightly. "Especially about that subject," Peach added with a wry grin. "She once levitated an Ursa Minor all by herself!" Connie smiled. "And just what is an Ursa Minor?" "It's sorta like a ghost-bear, but it's really heavy like a real bear. I'd love to get strong enough to do something like that." "Just promise me you won't start levitating some random grizzly bear, please," said Connie. "I don't think they'd take kindly to it." Christina turned her head. "Oh, hello!" Connie tensed. Christina was looking squarely at Ryan, her only thought likely meeting a new friend. After all, he was already sitting at the table with her mother; her pony instincts would lead her to assume they had already become friends. Ryan still wore the same smile as earlier, but it was now clearly for appearances only. His eyes flicked towards Christina's haunches rather than returning her inquisitive gaze, and Connie's arms tightened around her daughter. Connie felt the need to break the tableau. "This is my daughter, in case you hadn't already gathered." "I see," Ryan said in a neutral voice. "I'm Christina!" said the filly, smiling. "What's your name?" Ryan stood. "It's of no consequence, little pony." He looked towards Connie. "You are fortunate. Your daughter is unmarked. There is a chance for her." Peach frowned. She stepped closer to Christina, her gaze squarely on Ryan, one fore-hoof drawing back and scraping the ground. Connie refrained from replying the way she wished, that her daughter would decide for herself what her life would be like, as she had no desire to prolong this conversation. "I would suggest that you pursue that chance, and soon," Ryan continued. "Better to take matters into your own hands before others choose to act. Good day to you all." Connie let out a sigh of relief when the man turned and left. Peach leaned closer to Connie. "Did he threaten you in any way, Mrs. Morgan?" "No, we just talked," said Connie. "Not a pleasant conversation, but that was it." "Still, it might be good to summon a night pony to keep an eye on him." "That won't be necessary." Connie did admit that his parting words had made her wary, but some night ponies were on a bit of a hair trigger, and she didn't want to stir up more trouble by bringing them into the mix. "I've seen him before," said Peach. "He's harassed ponies more than once. Personally, he gives me the creeps." "What's going on?" Christina asked. She squirmed in her mother's arms. "And can you put me down? Some friends of mine are here." "Honey, maybe you stay close for a bit." "But I really wanted to show them what I can do now! Well, almost can do." She pointed a fore-hoof towards a group of foals her age, an adult pegasus hovering near them. "And they're right over there." "It'll be okay, Mrs. Morgan," said Peach. "That's my teaching assistant. He won't let any harm come to her." "Why would I be harmed?" Christina asked. "You don't mean that man who just left?" "I'll explain later," said Connie as she set her daughter onto her hooves. "Don't wander off, we have to head back soon." "I won't!" Christina called out, already galloping away. Connie watched her join her friends before turning back to Peach. "Thank you for bringing her here, especially if there are people like Ryan around." "No trouble at all," said Peach. She glanced to where Ryan had sat. "Frankly, I know the risk you're taking in sending your daughter to a pony-run school, and I don't mean just politically. Unfortunately, it's going to attract people like that man." "I doubt he knew I was the mayor," said Connie. "As for the choice of school, I do want Christina to interact with humans more, but I feel she needs to understand how to be a pony if she has no desire to change back." "And I appreciate you giving her that choice, especially given that she has no cutie mark yet. Have you had much luck in convincing other parents of pony children to do the same?" "Some," said Connie. "It's not something I can be very open about." "It's just a shame that there are so many foals who aren't being allowed to learn how to use their natural abilities." Connie had to toe the line rather delicately. She wasn't trying so much to convince children to remain ponies as she was wanting to see them have a chance at happiness. Being hounded to rehumanize by even the most well-intentioned parents was not conducive to that. Yet politically it could be spun to mean she was against rehumanization in general. Connie caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see Ryan observing a banner that had been hoisted earlier, which read "Please come to the Unicorn Magicraft Fair this Monday in the Village Center Pony Market!" Peach noticed Connie's gaze. "Oh, that reminds me. I still need your consent form for little Chrissie to attend the fair as part of a class trip." Connie's gaze lingered on Ryan for another moment. "Yes, of course, I have it on my to-do list for today." "She's quite excited about it," Peach continued. "While many of the unicorns have only the levitation spell, some have managed to modify it to do some quite amazing things." Before Connie could respond, she heard hooves approaching at a canter. "Connie, can I talk to you for a moment?" asked Ted as he stepped up. "This is very important." "I'll leave you to it," said Peach. "See you at the fair?" Connie nodded. "Count on it." Peach smiled before she turned and trotted off. Connie turned towards Ted. "I was wondering where you had wandered off to. Hopefully it was important enough to leave me in the clutches of a radical pro-human nutcase." Ted sighed. "Yes, I saw. I sincerely apologize for that, but something came up that I don't think you would've wanted him to hear." Another set of hooves approached, belonging to a unicorn mare with a bright yellow coat and dark violet hair. "Ted, are you sure we should be talking to her about this?" "Wildy, it's okay. I've told you before, Connie is good at keeping things in confidence." "What's going on?" Connie asked in a wary voice. She recognized the mare as Wildflower Springs, a pony who was rather vocal in her support of humans who wanted to willingly become ponies. Her beliefs in general leaned Shimmerist, though she never claimed to be one. Connie was usually careful to avoid her. For someone like Connie, associating with Shimmerists was political suicide. Ted stepped closer to Connie and gestured. Connie crouched before he spoke again in a lower voice. "Wildy's been in contact with some ponies who are helping a Partial get safely into the pony sector." "I think I agree with Wildy," said Connie in a flat voice. "We shouldn't be talking about this." Ted held up a hoof. "I know, you can't take an official stand on that, you can only repeat what the law says. I get that." "Then why are you bringing this up with me?" "Because, unfortunately, they'll likely come through my district." Connie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm telling you this because I want to be up-front and honest with you," said Ted. "I'm going to make sure she gets through safely." "Ted--" "All I need you to do is, well, look the other way." "You know as well as I do, the FBI has already contacted my office about this," said Connie in a hushed but urgent voice. "If this is the same Partial that was mentioned in that bulletin, I can't claim ignorance." Wildy frowned. "I told you this was a bad idea. She's just like all the other humans I've had to deal with. Lay down the law, and to hell with what the person actually wants." "We are not debating this now," Connie declared. "Connie, I'll take full responsibility if something goes wrong," said Ted. "You have my permission to throw me under the bus if you need to." "You know I won't do that." "You have to! Look around you. A lot of this pony-human interaction is because of your work. What you're trying to do here is more important than any sort of political career I might have." It was clear to Connie that Ted didn't understand the bigger picture. Despite his dedication as a representative of his district, he was still a pony first and foremost and felt an obligation to protect others of his kind. For many ponies, that included Partials. Telling him not to would be like telling Connie not to protect her daughter. Wildy stepped up to Connie. "If you really are as kind as Ted makes you out to be, you'll let him do this." "I'm not going to stop him," Connie said. "With luck, the question simply won't come up." "Other ponies have reported more FBI activity. They're sure to use some excuse like rooting out terrorist plots as an excuse to poke around. We just don't want you to give in to their browbeating." "Let me ask this," Connie said. "Have you considered that even the pony sector may not be safe if they really want her? It's not officially recognized as being separate, sovereign territory. This separation is largely unofficial and a courtesy until some solution is worked out." Though Connie had been in politics long enough to know that sometimes temporary solutions become de-facto permanent ones because no one could agree on anything. "We're hoping Equestria will apply some pressure," Wildy said. "There's already news going around that Princess Celestia has asked that the resettlements be halted due to the Pony Council. If that's the case, they're going to increase security around the council representatives." "We're counting on that distraction," Ted said. "If Wildy is right, they'll likely spread themselves thin elsewhere." Connie clamped her hands over her ears halfway through his statement. "Don't give me detailed plans! At least let me claim ignorance honestly over that part." "Then you'll support us?" Wildy asked. Connie thought back to when her daughter was still in the in-between state, not knowing who or even what she was. Completing the transformation had been something of a relief to all of them. Granted, Connie and her husband had been sporting pony ears and a tail at the time and thought they would join her daughter soon, but she would not wish a permanent confused partial transformation on anyone. "I will give Ted a leave of absence," said Connie. "Anything he does is on his own time. I simply won't ask what he did on his time off." Wildy exchanged a glance with Ted before saying, "Well, I guess that's the best we can hope for. Thank you." Connie did not believe thanks were warranted until this was all said and done. Sunny realized that perhaps Goldy had been right in her assessment; walking on the ground for any length of time felt wholly unnatural, and taking to the skies again gave her a sense of relief. She couldn't claim an inherent pegasus instinct; Tina was a pegasus, and she had no trouble spending long stretches of time on the ground. Then again, she was Tina. Others had joked even before ETS that the dictionary ought to have a picture of her for the term "laid-back." Sunny suspected her friend remained a pony simply because it was too much trouble to go through the process of rehumanization. That wasn't even considering her relationship with Bob. Sunny flew at the level of the tallest peaks just west of Boulder. Her family had camped in this area in the past, her mother knowing all the out-of-the-way places that most tourists missed due to her association with the Bureau of Land Management and the US Geological Survey in the pursuit of her passion for archeology. Yet nothing compared to seeing it from the skies. It reminded her of what she had learned about pegasi in Equestria. Many of their number were born, raised, and lived their lives in the skies, never once setting a hoof on the ground. Even their homes were in a cloud-based city. Pegasi on Earth had tried creating such a thing but quickly realized there was some missing magical component for holding the clouds together without it simply becoming a storm and raining itself out. Sunny flew over a peak and down the other side, where the normally verdant blanket of pine bore a ragged scar, the site of a wildfire that had broken out in late August when it was so dry in human lands. This was close enough to the border of the Homestead Lands that pegasi were wary of spreading their rain this far east. Yet when the fire broke out, they hadn't hesitated to dive in to help. The scar bore a new feature. Right outside a human house, several unburned trees thriving in a rough circle around it, a message had been spelled out using painted rocks which read "THANK YOU PONIES". A few more plots of land, all with their own bit of greenery that had been spared along with their homes also sported similar messages. One was arranged in a rendition of a pegasus pony crude enough that Sunny suspected it had been done by children. Perhaps the whole thing had been a school project. Sunny smiled. This was what she had wanted to see, not for the accolades, but just as a sign of humans and ponies working together. Sunny spotted movement in one of the burned areas. Trespassers were not allowed in the burn scar in order to avoid disturbing any new growth. Yet when she flew low over the charred treetops, she saw a few earth ponies along with a human dressed in a forest ranger's uniform supervising them. A few people in business suits were also among them, looking rather out of place. They were discussing something with an earth pony filly. Sunny would not be the least bit surprised if the filly was in their employ. It reminded Sunny that things were not all bad. Humans and ponies were working together on many levels. Had many of the ponies been more spread out rather than concentrated along the Front Range and a large swathe of the Pacific Northwest, there might not have been a much of a chance for the Shimmerists to sound the drumbeats of pony unity. A few of the ponies on the ground waved when they saw Sunny. Some nudged their comrades, who joined in the greeting. More than one called her by name. A National Guard soldier emerged from the cover of the unburned trees. He looked up, then started speaking into his comm link. Sunny was too far away to hear what he was saying, no matter how much she strained her ears. What she did hear instead was the beat of fellow pegasi wings, and a voice calling out. "Hey, look, guys, it is her! It's Sunrise Storm!" No sooner had Sunny risen into the sky when she was swarmed by about a dozen other pegasi. Not one was close to her in age, all well into adulthood, a few even sporting some gray hairs in their manes and tails. With as gracefully as ponies aged, however, they looked as strong and healthy as their younger counterparts. Sunny was normally averse to being set upon, but having seen the ponies working the burn scar alongside humans had lifted her spirits. She smiled as she said, "Hello, all. You're all acting as if you weren't expecting me." A blue stallion with purple hair flew up to her, and Sunny assumed he was their leader. He had a rather curious cutie mark, that of a lightning bolt made out of water. "Well, we knew that a delegation was coming, and we were hoping to meet it, but we had no idea you were the delegate!" "Oh, no, I'm not, First Pony Sunshine is," said Sunny. "I'm just along for the ride." The stallion laughed. "You? Along for the ride? That's not the Sunny I've heard of! Oh, and I'm Blazing Waters ..." He introduced all the others in turn before saying proudly, "We're the Front Range Fire Patrol, First Wing." Sunny blinked. "Seriously?" "Well, we'd wear firefighter hats, but it's a pain to poke holes in them for our ears," Blazing said to the chuckles of his cohorts. "No, I mean -- and no offense -- I've never heard of you," said Sunny. "I thought I was up to date on ponies working in official capacities like this." "Wellll, to be honest, we're not all that official," said Blazing. He jabbed a hoof towards the burn scar. "But the humans there didn't seem to care when we helped put out that blaze." Sunny glanced down at the burn scar again. "That's some nice work, really. But have you had any trouble with government authorities?" "Eh, some," said Blazing, running a hoof through his mane. "We do get chased off if we go too far east," another grumbled. "But most of the people in Boulder don't care," said Blazing. "Hell, whenever a house fire breaks out, we're usually already wrapping things up by the time the human fire department shows up." "You live in Boulder?" Sunny asked. "Born and raised there. Not gonna leave it just because I happen to have hooves and wings." "Blazing is leading this wing for a reason," said the older stallion, whom Blazing had introduced as Safe Rescue. "He can be a one-pony firefighter department." Blazing waved a hoof. "Aw, go on." "If you'd rather be modest--" Blazing made a come-on gesture with his fore-hooves. "No, I mean, go on. Keep telling her how amazing I am." Laughter broke out, and Sunny chuckled as well. "I'm really happy you've all come together to try to help the human community," said Sunny. "It's more than that," said Blazing. The red-furred orange-haired Safe Rescue flew forward. Upon his haunches was the image of a stylized pegasus wing superimposed upon a burning structure as his cutie mark. "Ma'am, I was a firefighter for thirty years before my declining health sidelined me. When my transformation completed, I felt like I was a young kid again, and it made me realize how much I hated retirement." "When it comes to telling us what we can and can't do, we decided to tell the government to go to hell," said Blazing. "And I even voted for some of those yokels running the show." "Nopony is going to tell me not to do what I can do," said Safe. "Any more than I could be kept away from firefighting when I was human." "You know those wildfires that humans can't reach because they're blazing away in country too rugged to get into?" Blazing said. "That's nothing to us. We can get in and out of there as easy as we can here. But then again, I'm preaching to the choir. You above all other pegasi know what it's like." Sunny did, but not in the way that Blazing would ever know. She was reluctant to talk about how Sunset Shimmer had interfered with her life, effectively helping her become the pegasus everypony looked up to. Not that it mattered to the Shimmerists, of course. As soon as they had their hooves on that information, they had started courting her to be their spokespony. The worst in terms of how adamant they were about having her on board was some unicorn-turned-preacher named Sunset Blessing. Sunny had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not interested. "We're hoping you're going to go to bat for us," said Blazing. "We need somepony to tell the humans that we're fed up with their stupid regulations, their dumb restrictions, and their Earth-is-for-humans crap." "They're not all that way," Sunny protested. "Just look down there and you see even more cooperation." "We're not saying there isn't progress. It just needs to be more universal." "Ma'am, if I were to fly to the east coast and apply for a job as a firefighter there, I would be turned down," said Safe. "There's still too much distrust. They also wouldn't be able to qualify me for the job, as all their standards are still geared towards humans. This despite the fact that I've saved lives since I joined Blazing's wing, both human and pony alike." "We want to live among humans," Blazing said. "Hell, I do already. Much of my neighborhood in Boulder got spared ETS, but I don't care. I don't need everyone around me to be a pony." "Personally, I believe they would be better off as ponies," said Safe in a lower voice. Blazing smirked. "Yeah, yeah, we know, old man." A pegasus mare rolled her eyes. "Don't get him started, please." The others chuckled, and even Safe smiled as he turned back to Sunny. "I'll spare you my philosophy, ma'am, I'm sure you've heard it all before." More times than she could count, but Sunny kept that sentiment to herself. "Whatever you believe about humans, the point is the same," Blazing said. "They have to butt out of our lives and let us be ponies. We're all pinning our hopes on the Pony Council." What was unspoken but clear in their faces was that they were pinning their hopes on Sunny. Whether she wanted the distinction or not, she was considered the trailblazer. As far as anypony could tell -- and backed up by most government accounts -- it was her and her friends who were the first humans-turned-pegasi to successfully use their weather control abilities. "All I can tell you is that we're going to do our best to show humans that they don't have anything to fear from us," said Sunny. She knew that was going to be a tall order. Whenever confrontation between humans and ponies made news, media outlets reran the footage of the few incidents where ponies were the instigator of the violence, or of those whose violent or psychotic tendencies had not been sufficiently nullified by Sunset Shimmer's spell. Blazing was about to reply, but already his comrades' ears were twitching and swiveling. They turned towards the same point eastward, where a military helicopter approached. "Oh, come on!" Blazing cried. "There's no way this could be remotely considered restricted airspace!" "Sometimes the military doesn't need a reason to harass us," said Safe with a frown. "Take it easy, old man. All right, stand your ground, everypony. We're doing nothing wrong here." As much as Sunny did not want to be part of a potential confrontation, she agreed with Blazing; there should be no reason these pegasi can't be allowed here, especially where there were ponies on the ground already. The helicopter halted its approach a safe distance away, and its megaphone blared to ear-ringing life. "If one of you is Sunrise Storm, please identify yourself." Sunny's ears drew back, not so much out of fear as to attenuate the sound. Despite the volume of the words, they came with no hostile tone. Sunny had no means herself to augment her voice, so she simply rose higher above the others and lifted a fore-hoof. "You and your delegation are to report to Boulder Area Command," the voice blared. "Please nod if you know where it is located." "We know where it is," Blazing said in a wary voice. "We're just not sure it's the best place you should be going," said Safe. "As much as we don't like it, we have to play by their rules for now," said Sunny. She nodded her head in an exaggerated motion to be sure to be seen. "Thank you," said the voice. The helicopter turned and headed away. "At least they're recognizing you and your friends for what you are," said Blazing. "A delegation. Maybe this is a turning point after all." Sunny would have felt the same way if it had not been the military that was their first official contact. She hoped that was not setting the tone for the whole discussion. Anthony Heller entered his office in Broomfield -- a municipality in the northwest corner of the greater Denver area and well within its human sector -- his aging laptop stuck under one arm and a tall container of coffee in the other. He generally didn't like to have caffeine this late in the morning, but he had far too much paperwork to catch up on. While his partner Jason was quite capable of handling it, Anthony preferred to expose him to as much "real" work as possible, and not the bureaucratic busywork that made Washington happy. Perhaps the service insisted on calling Jason a "junior agent" but that didn't mean Anthony had to treat him as one. The prospect of real work is what motivated Anthony. He had forgotten how much he had truly enjoyed field work despite it sometimes exposing him to the worst that humans could do to one another, now with the added wrinkle of ponies being thrown into the mix. Taking an effective demotion after the ETS crisis -- at his own request -- was one of the best things he had done. He was still proud of most of his accomplishments both before and during the crisis, but that was behind him now. It was almost like having a new career. Anthony's desk was right at the door, and that of his partner faced it with little room to spare. The office would be cramped for one person, let alone two, but Anthony had been insistent that Jason be co-located with him. "Sorry I'm late," Anthony said as he set down his coffee. "Came here right from the airport." Jason Madsen looked over and smiled. "No worries, chief. How did the pow-wow with Fuller go?" "It could've gone better." "Which coming from you means it was just short of a complete disaster." Anthony gave his partner a tight smile. "Let's just say that Mr. Fuller appears rather set in his ways concerning his methodology." "You drop the bomb on him?" Anthony sat down and opened his laptop. "I did, but it might as well have been a pea-shooter for all the good it did. Speaking of which, do we have any new intelligence on that?" "Yeah, came in this morning." Jason glanced towards the folder sitting near the fax machine. "Incoming." Anthony stared at the laptop as if that would get it to boot faster. He caught a glow off to the side and plucked the levitated folder out of the air. "Got it." The glow from Jason's horn faded as he hopped out of his chair with a sharp clop of his hooves as they struck the hard tiled floor. "I think you're going to find it interesting." Anthony paused to log into his laptop to inaugurate the next long wait while the desktop loaded. He opened the folder, his eyes flicking back and forth as he read. "How solid is this?" "As solid as anything else we've gotten from that source," said Jason. Anthony looked at the brown-furred, red-maned unicorn. "Do I hear a note of skepticism in your voice?" "We were just talking about bombshells. This is a doozy of one if it's true. It means there's something big in the works from the FRD." "Which may not be a direct link to our case," Anthony said in a neutral voice. Jason snorted. "You don't believe that, do you?" "No," Anthony deadpanned. "But it means Humanity First is taking a bigger risk than we thought they would. If some major terrorist incident does happen, and it does get linked to them, they're signing their own political death certificate." "They're getting desperate, I would say," said Jason. "Too many feel-good stories in the media lately about humans and ponies getting more chummy. They latched on to the whole Pony Council thing like a drowning person to a life preserver." "Did you vet this info?" "Personally." Anthony raised an eyebrow. "How?" "Just turned on the old pony charm," said Jason with a smirk. "Everybody thinks we're just soooo cuuuute!" He widened his eyes and batted his eyelashes. Anthony rolled his eyes, but one corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "Very funny." "Come on, admit it: it's a huge advantage having an adorable pony as a partner who can get people to talk." That was certainly not the reason Anthony had taken Jason as a partner. Jason had fifteen years experience in the FBI prior to ETS, and after his transformation, he found no reason to leave despite pressure from both pony peers and humans who had trouble seeing proper "FBI material" in a little colorful pony. When Anthony had come across his name and qualifications, he had pushed hard to have Jason accepted back into the service. It had come at a price. The higher-ups had balked at accepting Jason as-is and forced him to take a demotion, claiming he had to show he could really do the job. Anthony suspected they were testing his loyalty as well. Despite having a cutie mark and thus no path to rehumanization, Jason epitomized the qualities Anthony wanted to see in the transformed: thinking for themselves as well as about the big picture. "Okay, seriously?" said Jason. "I did take advantage of my ponification, but only in being able to talk to other ponies more easily. They're more willing to talk to me than they are humans sporting badges." Jason turned briefly so his haunches were visible, where he sported a silhouette of a pony whispering into the ear of another. "This cutie mark ain't a stick-on tattoo, you know." Anthony grinned faintly. True, he had not taken on Jason on for that talent, but he did take shameless advantage of it. "Anyway, the ponies I talked to said they were noticing some weird patterns of behavior among the more outspoken pro-human evangelists. It could support the idea that something big is going to happen." Anthony tended to trust his instincts, and he was coming around to trusting Jason's as well. "All right. Let's keep an eye on any upcoming large gatherings of ponies and humans for the next week or so. I'll send it up the chain and see if we can get more agents to help us out." "Got it." "Anything else come in while I was gone?" "Uh, yeah, this." Jason turned his head and levitated a single page onto Anthony's desk. "Bulletin from sector command." Anthony picked it up and leaned back in his seat. "Renegade Partial?" "Looks like it." "We're being ordered to devote most of our resources to intercepting her." "Yep." Jason lowered his voice. "I, uh, wasn't sure just how much effort you wanted to put into this, considering Fuller isn't playing ball with you." Anthony tossed the page to the desk. "Despite our feelings about the direction things are going, we have to toe the line. See if your pony contacts know anything about it, but don't make it a huge priority." He tapped the first folder. "This has precedence." Jason nodded once. "Gotcha. I do want you to be honest with me, though. Do you think Partials are as dangerous as Fuller seems to think they are?" "I have yet to make up my mind on that," said Anthony. "I could just repeat the standard response, that we're protecting them from themselves as much as others, what with their increasingly unpredictable surges of magic." "Yeah, but do you believe it?" Anthony gave him another faint smile. He liked working with people who knew how to cut through the bullshit. "Let's just say I'm beginning to think Mr. Fuller has his own agenda. Maybe it's just to make a name for himself to further his own career, or he has his eye on running for office." Jason frowned. "Or maybe it's something a little more sinister. That's what has me worried. You may consider me as having one or perhaps several hooves grounded firmly in the human world, but I'm still a pony. I can sympathize with other ponies." "Are you including Partials in that list?" "Many are already more pony than human," said Jason. "Yeah, you're probably right, they shouldn't be running around without supervision if their magic could unintentionally cause anyone harm, but I'm not sure we're respecting their wishes all that much. And, yeah, I know, there's no way anyone is going to see that transformation spell on Earth anytime soon. It's a problem without a solution right now. I just don't want to see anyone taking advantage of it." Anthony didn't, either. He hated it when superiors had hidden agendas, regardless of their motivations, as it made his job harder. Then again, he had wanted a challenge; he just didn't think part of that would be finding a way to do what he felt was right without a confrontation. Connie looked at herself in the mirror much as a rehumanized Jenny had just the day before. Unlike Jenny, however, she had no lingering pony after-effects. Where her transformation could be reversed, she bore no trace that ETS had ever happened to her. She had to admit she would miss the increased strength that had started to manifest. She stepped back from the mirror and straightened her nightgown before flicking off the light and stepping back into the bedroom. Her husband Frank was already in bed, reading a magazine, his glasses perched almost at the end of his nose. She smirked and said, "You know, you're going to have to either get reading glasses or extenders for those." "I'll go with the extenders, thank you," said Frank without lifting his eyes from the pages. "And when they fall off your nose?" "I'll get that extended as well." Connie smiled and slipped into bed alongside him. She tousled his black hair which was starting to gray slightly around the ears. "Reading glasses are not necessarily a sign you're getting old, you know." Frank turned to her and managed a small smile. "I know that, honey. I just don't like to fiddle with multiple glasses. It's why I wear clip-on shades for driving." He returned his gaze to the magazine, until Connie plucked it from his grasp and flung it off the side of the bed. "Uh, I'm reading that." "Was," said Connie. "I need some attention, it's been a long day." Frank wrapped an arm around his wife as she settled in. "More pony troubles?" "You could say that." Connie sighed and snuggled against her husband. "I don't really want to talk about it, I just want some comfort." After a pause, Frank asked in a hopeful voice, "Do you need something to distract you?" Connie smiled faintly. "Yes, but not that. Sorry." "It's okay, I understand." Connie let out a contented sigh as Frank tightened his arm around her. She was grateful he understood that sometimes all she needed was a cuddle. They settled into a silent snuggle until it was broken by a faint clattering noise through the wall behind the headboard. After a pause, the clatter was repeated. Frank grinned. "Our daughter the unicorn strikes again." Connie raised her voice. "Chrissie? Stop trying to use your horn and go to bed." "But Moooom! I almost had it!" came the plaintive response. "Chrissie?" Connie said in a rising admonishing tone. "Oh, all right," Christina muttered. "Good night." "Good night." "You know she's going to wait until we're asleep and try it again," Frank said in a hushed voice. "She'll just listen until she can tell we're asleep." "Another reason not to have sex," Connie replied. "Those ears of hers would pick it up." "Is that the real reason?" Connie closed her eyes and sighed. She had half a mind to tell him that this was not the time for this discussion, but, truly, when would it be right? "I don't know." "You're the one who wanted another child," said Frank gently. "I know." "So do I." "That was before ETS." Frank paused before replying, "So?" "Frank, we have a pony for a daughter," Connie said. "Despite the joy that she is, she's still more taxing to raise than a human daughter. She's going to be able to do magic soon, and she's going to need a suitable tutor. Then there's trying to get her properly integrated into both the pony and human worlds. I don't even know the definition of the word 'well-adjusted' anymore when it comes to Christina." "I've already offered to be a stay-home parent," said Frank. "Your career is enough to make ends meet, especially considering all the pony teachers don't charge for their services." "I'm afraid of what Christina might think," Connie finally admitted. "Come again?" "I don't want her thinking that our human child would be some sort of replacement for her," said Connie. "But she wouldn't," Frank said. "We both love Christina just as much as we did before." "I know, but ... I just feel Christina is at a delicate point right now. I'm so afraid of doing the wrong thing. I've heard too many horror stories of families torn apart by this. I don't want us to be one of them." Frank was quiet for a long moment. Back before Christina was born, they had settled on wanting to raise at most two children, maybe three. Frank had been looking forward to that day for some time, at least until ETS had thrown a lot of plans out the window. "Maybe having a human sibling would help Christina stay partially grounded in the human world," Frank suggested. "I thought about that as well," said Connie. "Which raises the additional problem that our human child would get all the attention and Christina seen as the aberration." "We would never--" "Not us," Connie said quickly. She thought back to Ryan at the cafe earlier and shivered. How many more like him were out there? How many people in official capacities had attitudes like that? "It's not at all going to be like we envisioned. I'm trying all I can in my limited capacity to change things, but it's a slow process." Frank sighed. "Something did happen today, didn't it?" "You could say that." Connie closed her eyes. "Let's just say I have a nasty feeling that things will get worse before they get better."