//------------------------------// // 47: Seeking shelter // Story: An Exercise In Management // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// As doubtful as I was of this plan, it’s working. Foals have been riding on my back or ‘wrestling’ against my hoof, and no one has left with anything other than laughter. Granted, it’s somewhat mentally exhausting, but from the love and joy filling the air around us I’ve managed to refill everyone to the point where the fights in the castle are nothing but a horrible memory. Finally, however, One and Eight sense that I’m too tired to keep up a good show. “AND THAT’S IT FOR TODAY, EVERYPONY!” calls out Eight after I let another young colt slide off of my back. Her stern stare doesn’t allow anyone to complain, so the crowd around us disperses with nothing worse than disappointed mumbling and few questions about when we’ll be doing this again, which Ten handles expertly by saying something about business preparations and not revealing trump cards too early. I, for one, just enjoy the quiet, which, of course, means the loud shouting and the general cacophony of noise associated with the flow of tourists through Las Pegasus, but it’s not aimed at us, and I’m finally not being pulled by the ears which also helps. What surprises me the most is that apparently we’ve become a rather famous attraction, and ponies pass me by with nothing more than a glance as if I was one of them. And maybe that’s exactly what it is, to them I am one of them… a pony very well disguised as a changeling. One thanks the duo of cooperative guards who split a rather large sum of money she gives them, and leave. “Now that’s quite the payout,” she jingles the hefty bag of coins before starting to split it into the few saddlebags and satchels we’ve got. “How much?” asks Ten. “I stopped counting at around seven hundred bits,” One shrugs and looks at the sky, “Which was about two hours ago. Hmmm...” “You’re not thinking we should do this daily, right?” I give her a weary smile. “Heh, no. Maybe once a week so that the novelty doesn’t wear off too fast,” she’s finally done splitting the money, “No, I was thinking that we could find a place to sleep without having to hijack some. It would be a good idea to start looking around, no matter how willing I’m to explore the night life of this place. How about that, King?” “I could definitely use a quiet corner, my head is pounding.” “Alright, everyone, you heard the King. If you see a hotel or something, let me know.” We only take few steps before I sense some apprehension. Four is standing on her hind legs, her forelegs placed atop a counter of a stand with ‘Be the strongest pony alive!’ banner, and a terrifying amount of stuffed toys in the back. Next to it stands some sort of a high vertical ruler with a giant mallet lying next to its base. ”What’s going on, Four?” ”I think Nine needs some help. I stopped by to take a look at the plushies and… he got ambushed.” Nine’s dragon pony disguise clearly isn’t enough to deter a fresh batch of ponies interested in his exotic physique as well as the overly hairy unicorn stand owner pestering him, pretty much the exact opposite. “Come ooon, sir. Somepony as well-built as you are can’t be afraid of a little challenge?” his grin clearly shows that there’s something not completely genuine about whatever the stand is. From all the clues I can deduce it’s a contest of strength of some sort. To be honest, what IS the problem? ”Everyone, let’s spread out a little in case of any trouble. Nine?” ”I’m unsure what to do. He wants some of the money I received in exchange for… a spectacle, I assume.” Why is the stand owner circling Nine and making chicken noises now? “Can’t disappoint all those adoring mares, can we?” he sneers, poking Nine’s side, “Or maybe all this is just fat, eh?” There must be a strategy behind making fun of someone over twice one’s size, twenty times the visible muscle, and likely hundred times the effective strength. ”Meh, we can spare the few bits. You’ll either have to do it, punch the annoying pony out, or leave the crowd hanging, which could prove a disadvantage to Eight using me as bait again later. They know you’re with us.” “I DID NO SUCH THING… KING!” to her credit, Eight doesn’t look me in the eye. “Alright,” Nine finally answers the stall pony, much to the cheering of the crowd, “What do I do?” No one could miss the victorious glint in the pony’s eye as he points to the mallet and the vertical pole next to it. “Simple, really. You grab the hammer and smack the pad as hard as you can. It shoots the ball upwards to measure your strength. If you can make it hit the gong on the top, you’ll get your bits back and you can choose any plushie you want.” “And if I can’t?” Nine walks over to the mallet, and toys with the handle a bit. The owner points at horizontal lines painted on the pole in regular intervals. “If you can reach the first one, you can get a small plushie, but that shouldn’t be on your mind at all, the next one is a medium, and the top one is one of the princesses. For you, though, wouldn’t the adoration of the crowd and those gorgeous mares,” he winks at a trio of rather fetching earthponies openly ogling Nine, “be the right goal?” he has to stand up on his hind legs to lean up to Nine’s ear and whisper, “And you might prove you’re strong enough to handle all three of them at once, eh?” “Hmm...” Nine wraps the claws of his foreleg around the handle of the mallet. For the first time, the crowd goes completely silent when Nine effortlessly picks it up with one foreleg and hoists it on his shoulder. He stands up on his hind legs, grabs the handle with both forelegs now, much to the dropped jaw of the stand owner, and- *BONNNNNNNGGGGG!* -the metal measuring ball shoots out so fast it takes the gong with it to the skies. The crowd erupts when Nine carefully puts the mallet down, and pats the owner’s head. “Did I win?” “M-M-Magic… must be m-m-m-magic- cheating-” Nine grabs the pony by the hem of his shirt, and pulls him to his eye height. “I’m a little bit insulted by that.” He puts the owner back down, scoops the bits he paid for his chance from the counter, walks into the stand, and grabs a life-sized princess Celestia toy. “For you,” he says to Four whose eyes go saucer-wide. “M-me?” she sags a bit under the weight of the plushie twice her size before stumbling towards us. Nine is about to follow, when the three mares previously only watching surround him. “Those are some powerful muscles, handsome...” one breathes heavily while rubbing her hoof against Nine’s chest, “How about you let us examine them… in private?” ”I think we’re safe to leave,” One chuckles through our links, ”Nine, we’ll book you a separate room in the Black Sheep,” she pings a location of some hotel within sight, ”but you’re sharing the lust tomorrow. I never thought I’d be full of love without a bit of good old dripping base desire. Ewww, all healthy food.” ”Umm, miss One?” I hear confused Nine, ”What do I-” ”Just let them have their fun with you, big guy, and if you really need help, talk directly to me. We’re LEAVING!” And just like that, she pings the hotel again, and cuts Nine off while chuckling to herself. ”I’m not a fan of you messing with one of us while in dangerous territory, One.” ”Lighten up, the best way to teach a foal to swim is by throwing it in the water.” ”Full of angry paladin sharks who want to cut its head off?” ”Makes them learn really fast.” With a long sigh, I reassure myself that One has changed since we met her in Canterlot. She’s messing around, but she wouldn’t leave Nine alone if she thought he was in real danger. On the other hoof, she’s not the protective type, which together mean that Nine should be fine unless he does something really stupid to endanger himself and possibly all of us. Plus, my link to Nine is slowly recovering from One’s block, and I can faintly feel his confusion coupled with curiosity. Alright, time to go. Huh, why is my foreleg refusing to move? An earthpony colt who can’t be more than seven years old, I’ve gotten a lot of practice at guessing pony age today, is wrapped around my shin and fetlock. When I look down, he looks up, waves his forelegs, and goes: “Eeeeh...” ”Ideas, anyone?” I reach out to my group who are all watching the colt. One with a raised eyebrow, Ten with barely contained boredom, squished Four from underneath her massive plushie, and Eight as if he was a ticking paladin bomb with teeth in disguise. ”The water shark thing works really well for uninvited guests too,” One offers a rather permanent solution. “Eeeeh!” the colt repeats when I lean down to him, trying to reach for my nose. “Is the changeling ride still open?!” a pegasus mare gasping for breath followed by an earthpony stallion push through the everlasting crowds. “Nope,” Eight scoops the colt up with her wing. He goes ‘Eeeh!’ and tries to use his newfound height to crawl towards me, “Closed for tod- hey!” the colt jumps from Eight’s back with absolutely zero chance of getting onto mine, but thankfully Eight catches him in time and gives him to his father, “What’s wrong with him?” The stallion hangs his head. “He’s just a bit… slow.” The mother looks away, nodding. “And all he wants is a ride?” I ask while walking over. “We’ve been trying to get to you for a while, but there was always such crowd,” she pats the colt’s head with her wing, “and he gets nervous when we’re waiting. We didn’t want to cause a scene.” The green glow of my telekinesis envelops the colt who carefully flies up from his dad’s back, giggles, and starts flapping his forelegs in the air. “Eeeh! Eeeh! Eeeh!” Judging by his grin, I don’t think he’s scared. When he’s at my head height, he grabs my nose. “I can’t really do the changeling show if you’re holding me like this.” “Eeeh?” Levitating him a little way away, I show him my teeth and hiss quietly. His eyes go wide, he whimpers, and for a moment I think I’ve made a mistake. When I smile apologetically, he beams and resumes flapping his forelegs in the air. He doesn’t see me as evil, maybe scary sometimes, but not evil, and just a smile is enough to make him happy… for a while. I put him on my back where he grabs my neck and starts nibbling on my mane as I circle around. “Alrig-” One takes a step towards the parents, reaching for her money pouch. ”If you ask them for money, One, I’m personally kicking you out of the group and then down from the tallest building I can find.” She looks at me, blinking. ”I’m not kidding.” ”I’m sorry we can’t bring Three back,” is all she says. Eight might be a part of me now, but One’s analytical mind disassembled me in such detail that she now knows me better than I know myself. The father approaches One with a pouch of bits. I almost expect her to take it while saying something along the lines of her not asking for it but them offering, which makes her words even more shocking: “No need to pay for a ride that’s closed,” the corner of her mouth curls up. Both parents have no idea what to do, so they just look around, trying not to ruin the moment, until I grab the colt from my back and make him float over to them. “I don’t know how to thank you,” the father bows his head a little. I lean down to them, and whisper: “Next time you read a newspaper story about Canterlot, remember that not everything you see is a costume,” I smile. Expression after expression rush across their faces, but in the end I think they understand what I was trying to say. Now we can leave. Weird, I’ve never felt this sad and happy at the same. YOUR FOOLISH ATTEMPTS MUST BE STOPPED BEFORE YOU DESTROY EVERYTHING! I clutch my head, and grit my teeth as the dull pain of hive mind’s presence grows stronger yet again. One leans to my ear and whispers: “I can’t say this through our links, but Eight’s fight against Luna gave me an idea. Please, hold on a little longer, King.” *** Six of us, one room inside the Black Sheep, fifteen minutes later. Yes, I am counting the Celestia plushie instead of Nine, they’re the same size. My headache is getting worse, and somehow it feels like it’s caused by many screaming voices on the edge of hearing. My best guess is that the hive mind is super pissed about what we pulled off today, but for some reason they’re failing to talk to me directly. Still, the migraine is annoying. There are two beds made to fit a single pony each in our room, and thus it makes perfect sense for us to by lying on the pulled out mattresses on the floor. We’re all in our changeling forms, the curtains are drawn, and the door is locked. Eight is draped over my barrel, thinking about something with her forelegs crossed under her chin. ”Kinda wish we got more than two rooms, King. There’s no reason why Nine should be the only one having fun tonight.” ”It’s not like anything we’d do would bother anyone here anyway.” ”It would be great to tease One only able to watch, but she’ll probably start giving me tips, and then I’d have to kill her for real. Plus, I know you didn’t mean it.” ”Yeah, I don’t think I’d be comfortable in that situation either… if only because I know I could use any tips One would toss my way.” ”Experimentation and exploration is fun too, my beloved breeder drone.” The only outside effect of the quick mental conversation is the corner of Eight’s mouth slightly curling up. On the other side of the room, One is sitting wrapped around Four, her horn flashing from time to time in tune with golden glow appearing on various spots of Four’s body. The small infiltrator is too tiny to reach even to One’s chin, but her back is pressed tightly against One’s abdomen. ”I can’t help feeling like a hostage, boss,” I feel Four’s whisper, and see One’s mouth tremble. To my surprise, Four continues, “And I know you’re listening, miss One.” Long tongue extends from One’s mouth, licks Four’s nose, and retracts without One even opening her eyes. ”What are you two doing anyway?” ”Just checking up on the little smartass,” answers One, ”She’s learning a bit too fast and she's been trying advanced infiltrator body enhancements without my supervision. Unfortunately, while she’s absolutely fine in her head, to fix her body we’d have to remake her, and we don’t have the… capabilities at the moment.” ”The hive mind said something about remaking Three before sucking me dry. What does the process entail exactly?” ”In simple terms it means that you need to store a changeling’s mind somewhere away from their body, destroy the body, give birth to or steal a new one while wiping away its original inhabitant, and put the mind into the new one. It is time consuming and extremely difficult. Even blank changeling bodies don’t always adapt their brains to a new mind pattern well.” ”But it’s possible, right? Four’s frail because of my lack of knowledge, love, and skill. Fixing that should be worth it-” If I had somehow managed to fix Three’s head, then he wouldn’t have been my Three anymore. HE knew it. ”-if you want it, Four, I mean.” ”Not tripping over everything would be great,” Four looks up at One’s chin, then at me, ”and not having to burn love on carrying anything heavier than a book.” ”Then it’s settled. One, you yourself said that you had too much love-” ”We don’t have anywhere to put Four’s mind, or did you forget what the hive memories did with Three? Four has, I freely admit, surpassed all my expectations, but she’s by far not disciplined and powerful enough to fend for herself against the hive memories, especially without an anchor to the physical world which means her body.” ”So before we even think about fixing any single changeling, we need to fix… the hive.” ”Exactly.” I sigh. Eight nuzzles my hoof. ”Out of curiosity, One. Could that method be used to fix me? Shapeshifting ability and with it my wings?” One waits before very carefully answering: ”In theory, yes.” So why-? No, no, something is completely wrong about that idea. If that was possible, then… ...then why wouldn’t the hive memories, the old changeling rulers simply reincarnate themselves? I think One knows the answer. ”One, why didn’t some ancient changeling queen do that to save herself?” One chuckles, but suddenly looks rather crestfallen. ”They tried. The thing is… whom do you trust in a species fractured into hives fighting for power and rapidly diminishing resources? You need someone powerful to perform the rebirth, and that someone is more likely to devour all your love and experience than to serve under you for much longer, especially if you yourself are a warmongering asshole dictator. Honestly, the only two- three changeling rulers throughout the ages maybe worth giving another shot would be...” This makes me curious, because despite the hive mind’s visions I know far too little about us, so I just wait. ”Wistful himself, I believe, but… he’s not a warrior, he’s a kind, gentle soul not suited for these times of starvation and war, picking who will live and who will die for the greater good.” ”Is?” ”Was,” One corrects herself. However, in the same way she can read me, I think I’ve gotten better at understanding her. There’s more she isn’t telling me, but now is not the right time, so I’ll let it slide, ”Then I think Shadowstep, the amethyst queen. As much as I dislike her, she’s the one ruler we won’t find in the hive mind. Cold, calculating, loyal to the ends of Equus, master strategist. If there was someone who could have lead the hive to world domination, it was her. However, she left the hive mind during the great wars so that her memory wouldn’t drain the energy of the already stretched changeling empire.” Funny, she sounds exactly like One, or how One used to be when we met her. Shadowstep, one of the changeling generals under Chrysalis and her mother during the time when changelings fought a bloody war against… everyone, really. The one who supposedly died in the deserts of the Griffon Empire, hunted down along with her legion. ”You said there were three worthwhile rulers?” ”Eeeh, I’m still on edge about the third one,” she sticks her tongue out at me and winks, returning to telekinetically poking Four. Wait, she meant me?! Anyway, everyone seems okay. Ten? Ten is lying in the corner, being the small spoon for the Celestia plushie. He notices me looking. “What? Four gave her- it to me...” he turns around to avoid my stare, which unfortunately means his muzzle is now buried in the plushie’s fluffy chest. “Practicing for the real deal?” I ask. “What- I- never- how dare-” he takes a deep breath in, then out, “King, it’s just a fantasy. I know that even in our group I am the lowest rank now, and I don’t measure it by your favor. Little Four doesn’t have my experience and cool head, but she can do a lot more complicated stuff than I can. Nine… you’ll always need someone to punch someone else in a pinch, so he’s necessary. I… am not. I realized it when I was thinking about returning to Canterlot and facing the trials. What do I have to offer the princess? Nothing. I’m not interested in being a baker or something. I can pretend to be one, I can seduce a mare to refill me every night, but… in the end I am just a parasite, a liar, a cheat… an infiltrator, and even if I’m as generous to myself as I can be… a below average one. Let me be in peace with my imagination, King, that’s all I want.” “Ten-” “King, let’s not make it worse by spouting empty platitudes.” “Ten-” “King, PLEASE-” “TEN!” I lower my voice again, “You don’t think you’re worth the princess’ attention, I get it. Not a single day goes by when I don’t think that I survived until this point by sheer luck, that I’m not worth Eight’s… affection-” “Love, you idiot,” she corrects me openly. “-that I don’t deserve One’s advice, or that it’s not a miracle that someone as awesome as Four could come partly from myself. I know I’m not worth any of this, but here we are, and you’re with us. Damn, considering One hasn’t fed you to the paladins when she had the chance to buy herself few seconds, then even she must think you’re a worthwhile companion, and that’s a pretty high bar.” “Mostly because he couldn’t buy me even that little,” One smirks, “but what the King is saying is somewhat true. You are… less of an annoyance than you used to be, which means at least some progress. One or two thousand years in the future you might warrant some of Celestia’s attention-” “Well, thanks… I guess?” “-and luckily for you, she might be waiting, because you’re both conditionally immortal. In the meantime, hump your toy or something. I know from personal experience that that ass is definitely life-sized.” Groaning, Ten turns away from us, and covers himself with the plushie’s wing. However, I feel a faint: “Thank you,” inside my head. “OH GODS RAM ME, MY BEAUTIFUL DRAGON! MAKE ME YOUR WHOARD!” As one, we turn our heads towards the right wall, a very thin one as we’re finding out. “YES, YESSS! STRETCH ME LIKE AN OLD SOCK, WITH YOUR GLORIOUS-!” Did Nine find a zebra somewhere? “Umm,” Four furrows her brows, “are they-” “Practicing yoga!” I blurt out. One raises an eyebrow, likely subtracting points from my ‘maybe worth resurrecting’ score. Four giggles, though. “I AM YOUR SHIP, BOARD ME!” “Boss, that would have worked before you asked miss One to teach me. A little late for trying to save my innocence now.” “TIME TO LAY THE DRAGON!” “Inspiring, aren’t they?” Eight winks at me. “Can I order you to punch me unconscious, Eight?” “CALL ME VLAD, THE IMPALER!” Holes damn it, Nine... “I can send you to sleep in much better ways.” “Heeeey! Be quiet, will you?” Four bangs against the wall. “DRILL, BABY, DRILL!” One spits out two globs of quickly hardening slime, molds them for a moment, then shoves them in her ears. A blissful smile spreads on her face. Eight immediately does the same, then goops out two ear plugs for me as well. Four gets a pair from One, and with an expression of utter disgust, Ten makes some for himself as well. “Aaahhhh...” Life’s goo.