//------------------------------// // 10 - Albany // Story: Catch Me // by Hazel Mee //------------------------------// "Snrrrzk! Plp-plp-plp-phrrr… Snrrrzk! Plp-plp-plp-phrrr…" Laura groaned into the pink fabric of her saddlebags. Her forelegs were tired from stretching up to cover her ears with her hooves, and it didn't make a damn bit of difference, anyway. Of course, they'd picked a seat beside someone who snored like a banshee. Of course. Buttercup lay curled up next to her on the bus' bench seat — an indistinct lump under her unzipped sleeping bag, which they shared for a blanket. Laura couldn't tell if she was actually asleep. The little bus bounced and juddered, rocking them on the thinly cushioned bench. It's old diesel engine roared, wheels howled along the bumpy highway, and random gusts leaked through rusty gaps in the shuddering metal body. How could anyone sleep through this? It was hard enough trying to cat-nap on an aeroplane. What a letdown after a blissful night in one of the Unicorn Tower's luxurious beds. Sleeping in Chick's tent on the ground was more comfortable than this! Chick. Ugh. What a disappointment he'd turned out to be. She rolled over, curled up into a ball, and tried to find a comfortable position with her head jammed between her lumpy saddlebags. If she were home, she'd just get up, have a cup of chamomile, a Hob Nob or three, and maybe read for a bit. Why hadn't he been there to see them off? Being uncomfortable and restless made her even more annoyed with him. Thank God she'd found Buttercup, and she had flown up over the buildings and spotted Gavi. She could have been stuck in Beantown until next year! Gavi helped retrieve her belongs from Chick's room and haggled with Captain Harris, the tall and lean beige pegasus in charge of this convoy to Alexandria. She traded the solar electronics box for the trip, though she suspected that it was her sob-story of chasing after her fiancee that finally convinced him. Gavi waited with them in the parking area behind the community centre as a short grey bus with bars over its windows, hitched to U-Haul trailer with a faded postcard picture of Tucson on the side, were loaded with baggage and ponies. Buttercup joked that Chick was probably visiting Apple Squire, implying with an impish grin and eyebrow waggle that he was getting much more than a massage. Laura laughed it off as a teenager's hormone-driven imagination, but the longer they waited, the more plausible it sounded. Apple Squire had been quite snuggly with him and Laura had noticed how he blushed, even through his pink fur. Surely her name couldn't be a coincidence: 'apple-squire' was ancient slang for a prostitute's servant or pimp. She remembered that from a play in Drama class because it was such an odd phrase. He couldn't have known that Laura was leaving too, but missing the last chance to see Buttercup off to have sex with a whore was pretty bloody shallow. So they'd waited and waited. Looking up whenever some pony came trotting out of the housing complex. Her ears kept going flat to her head, and her tail wouldn't stop switching from side to side, making it plain how aggravated she was. Eventually, she sat on the damn thing, despite how much it hurt. At sunset, they'd had to board or be left behind. They waved to Gavi through the dusty, bar-covered window as the bus pulled out of the parking lot, and still no sign of Chick. Poor Buttercup. She should have been eagerly looking forward to the trip, but she slumped by the window, gazing sadly at the abandoned city as they rumbled down a sliproad to the motorway. Laura tried to comfort her, saying that at least they'd had a nice lunch together and it was a shame they hadn't had more than just a day in Beantown and it was Chick's loss if he couldn't be bothered to turn up. Buttercup just shrugged and stared out the window. Would he get paid by Beantown since she'd left right after arriving? The question finally caught Buttercup's attention for a moment, and she muttered that she didn't know. For a moment Laura had felt smug: served him right for ditching them! But where would she be if it weren't for Chick? Alone and starving in the wilderness. She probably wouldn't have survived winter if he hadn't found her and brought her safely to Beantown. He may have missed seeing them off, but wasn't she really the one ditching him to chase after Thomas? Not that she had much choice — the bus went when it went. Laura rubbed her itchy nose, wiggled on the lumpy bench, and rolled over. She sighed. Thrashed her too-many legs a bit under the blanket. Sighed again. Her mind wouldn't quiet and her mood cycled through guilt, frustration, and righteous anger — at herself and Chick and this stupid bus, and this stupid world, and this wretched horsey body! She should be back home in London picking out dresses for the bride's maids. Damn it all! Her tummy was sore and tense because she hadn't felt up to eating anything when one of the team of changelings driving the bus came around with snacks and drinks for everyone. Her sandwich, bottle of water, and an apple were packed away for later in one of the saddlebags, but she still didn't feel up to eating. She sniffled and squeezed frustrated tears from her eyes, then scrubbed them off of her snout with a crooked foreleg. Stupid emotions. It was done with and didn't really matter, as she'd probably never see him again, anyway. That just made her feel worse. A seat creaked as someone got up. They walked past Laura's bench, their hoofsteps muffled by thick carpet in the aisle. She heard a gargling snort as the snoring pony was woken up, a quiet, grumbling conversation, and more spring squeaks as they shifted around. "Thank you", Laura whispered to the pony's silhouette as they went past, heading back to their own bed. The mare whispered, "No problem." Laura snuggled down and closed her eyes. Her head felt like it was spinning and sleep seemed impossi- She painfully jounced up and down on her horse's back, completely out of sync with the big brute's bouncy trot. Her hooves didn't reach the stirrups and the bloody reins kept getting away! "She's going to fall! Help her!" Her mother was drowned out by loud hoof-stomping applause from a crowd of ponies filling the stands. The horse galloped towards a brush fence and Laura felt his muscles bunching between her thighs as he leaped. Up, up, up the side of a towering wall of greenery! The reins slipped away from her frantically clutching hooves and she tumbled backwards over his pink rump! Laura jolted awake as the bus thumped through a pothole, bouncing her head off of the bench. "Maaa-maaa!" Laura blinked gummy eyes. On the bench across the aisle, Mrs Lee, a peach-colour mare, nuzzled her tiny blue foal. "I know sweetie", she said, "We're almost there, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Laura pushed herself upright and held a hoof over her mouth as she yawned. Gravel rumbled and popped beneath the bus as it slowly wallowed along a narrow, pot-holed road, with dense forest outside and grey light filtered through the dirty windows. Buttercup sat up on the bench seat with her hooves muzzle pressed to the window. Laura heared hushed conversations and groans all around as ponies woke up. Captain Harris walked unsteadily down the aisle, fluffing his beige wings as he cheerfully announced, "Good morning, everypony! We're here!" He braced his long legs as the bus wobbled from side to side and jolted to a halt with squeaking brakes. "Take a few minutes to hop off the bus and stretch your legs. Breakfast will be served aboard the- Whoops! Hey!" Laura giggled as Mrs Lee's foal, a pale blue earth pony filly named Veronica, dove under the Captain and ran to the doors as they creaked and swung open. Her mother awkwardly squeezed past Harris to chase after her. "Leave your luggage on the bus until you've had breakfast and been assigned a cabin. Anypony who's up for it can help with hauling cargo to the Fair Dinkum and maybe we'll get underway before lunchtime. Thank you." Buttercup turned away from the window. "G'morning, Laura. We're at Blain's Bay Marina! I saw a sign." "Good morning." Laura was torn between curling up to sleep and answering the call of nature. "Time to get up, sleepy mare. I gotta stretch my wings!" Buttercup pawed at the seat and lifted her wings up high, like a cockerel showing off to his hens. Captain Harris chuckled and told her, "Don't go too far. You don't want to miss breakfast." Buttercup nodded and hopped down to the floor between the seats. She waited as a minor stampede of ponies filled the aisle and shuffled toward the front of the short bus. "Hey, we're gonna share a cabin, right?" Laura struggled into her cardigan. "Yes, that would be nice." She hoped the snorer wouldn't be in the cabin next to theirs. It was cool and damp outside, making Laura's coat shiver and her breath steam in the air. The other ponies spread out, looking for somewhere private in the bushes or alleys between the marina's dilapidated buildings and racks of abandoned canoes. Buttercup took to the sky as Laura trotted into the forest, thinking wistfully of the luxurious bathrooms at the Unicorn Tower. When she emerged from the bushes, she found the bus had been turned around and was backing slowly downhill, toward the marina's docks. She joined a few passengers as they trotted down the same slope, and very carefully avoided the slowly turning wheels, which were taller than her! The breeze smelled of fish and rotting vegetation. As she rounded the end of the U-Haul trailer her ears pricked up at the slap of waves on hollow hulls and shouted greetings. The harbour was just a little, marshy bay on a broad green river, and a mish-mash of cannibalised floating dock sections stretched through a meadow of ear-high grass, out into the duck-weed choked water. Laura followed the others onto the creaking dock and glanced at the ruined hulks of pleasure craft scattered around the harbour. A row of aluminium masts jutted at odd angles along the far shore, where a whole fleet of yachts had sunk. The marshy stink was powerful, but she caught the sweet scent of something cooking and raised her head, snuffling at the air with her ridiculously big nostrils. Tied up on either side of the dock were long canal boats, just like one might see puttering along Britain's extensive canal network. They were twins, painted patriotic American colours: blue hulls, white railings, and red cabins. The bright paint gleamed in the rising sun, made a stark contrast to the ruined harbour. 'Freedom' was written in block-type on the bow of one and 'Fair Dinkum' on the other. A couple of ponies on the Freedom's bow watched as the passengers trickled onto the dock. A dark blue pony stood stiff and proud. She had short, rope-y brown dreadlocks and wore a white seaman's cap and long-sleeved white jacket. Beside her was a unicorn mare with a rose red coat and wavy mane of red and white stripes that reminded Laura of taffy. Captain Harris swooped in and landed near the gathered passengers. His hooves clumped on the worn wood and made the dock bob. "Hey, everypony, gather round!" He glanced up and whistled two notes. Buttercup and the other pegasus passenger, a young, pastel blue mare, fluttered down. Buttercup wiggled her way through the small crowd and sat next to Laura, panting and grinning. Captain Harris asked, "Is that everypony? Alright then. On your right-" he waved a hoof at the boat "-is the Fair Dinkum which is for cargo only. I'm her captain and I'd like you to stay off her unless I or one of my crew give you permission to board. On your left is the Freedom where you'll be bunking as we sail to Buffalo." The dark blue mare with dreadlocks stepped up to the rail and announced in a surprisingly deep voice, "I'm Captain Batten and this is Crewpony Tanner." She had a commanding aura and loomed over them, like she was giving a royal address. "Just call me Cathy", said Crewpony Tanner in a much more light-hearted and friendly way. She smiled and waggled a hoof at Mrs Lee's filly, who was gazing up at the boat with wide eyes. Captain Batten raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. Once Cathy settled down, she coughed and said, "I have three rules you need to follow aboard my ship. One: no fighting. It's going to be crowded and the last thing we need is drama. Two: no swimming or drinking the canal water. It's not safe and we have plenty of fresh water on board. And three: relax! It's a long trip and you're going to be bored, but we have movies, music, games, and a few books. Feel free to explore the Freedom and talk to me or the crew if you're interested in lending a hoof. We'd be happy to show you the ropes." She gruffly ordered, "Well, don't just stand there, Harris. Get them aboard!" "Yes, Sir!" said Harris with a grin while saluting with a wing. "Right this way, everypony." He led the way further out onto the dock and gestured for them to climb aboard the Freedom's stern via a plank with rungs nailed across it. The narrow board made Laura nervous. She had no fear of heights, but it bounced a little with every step and felt slippery under her hooves. Buttercup just hopped aboard with a couple of wing flaps. The Freedom's stern deck quickly became crowded, and they squeezed into a space next to the ship's wheel, which had a horse shoe shaped wood platform built around it. Wind chimes tinkled, barely audible over the clomp of many hooves on the deck and chatter as curious passengers looked about. "Hey, I don't think you're supposed to go up there", said one of the stallions. A handsome black-and-white striped zebra with a stiff Mohawk mane. Laura couldn't remember if the guide Thomas had left for her mentioned people Returning as zebras. He was certainly the first she'd encountered or heard of. Another stallion, a tangerine orange with a bright red tail, jumped up into the seat mounted on a tall pedestal next to the wheel. "Ah'm just having a look, Will. Ah won't touch nothing." The zebra, Will, frowned and grumbled something that Laura didn't hear over the other ponies talking. "Hello, everypony! I'm Dolly Mix." Laura caught a glimpse of a bright yellow pony through the crowd. She stood halfway up the stairs that led down into the boat's interior. "Come on in, a few at a time, not all at once now. We got pancakes, and syrup, and apple juice, and something that's a bit like coffee if you drink it too fast for it to touch your tongue." She laughed merrily and said, "Cathy'll get your cabins sorted too." Mr and Mr Lee trotted after their filly, who practically dove down the stairs at the mention of pancakes. A pair of young mares followed them. Laura had overheard on the bus that they were sisters, Returned together by chance while riding a hotel elevator in Florida. That left Laura, Buttercup, the two stallions, and a grape-purple mare on the stern. "Hey, I can see over the roof up here", said the orange stallion in the pilot's chair as his tail wagged. The mare shrugged and muttered, "Gotta see where we're going, right?" "I wonder what she runs on? Bio-diesel like the bus?" asked Will. "Dunno, but the roof's covered in solar panels." They nattered on for a while, speculating about how the boat worked. Laura tuned them out and yawned, hiding her mouth behind a hoof. Buttercup nudged her shoulder. "Come on, let's look around." She took off down one side of the cabin, trotting carelessly along a narrow walkway. Though she'd much rather find her cabin and have a nap, Laura was curious about the boat. Despite living in England, with its vast canal network, she'd never been on a canal boat before and finding one, two, of them in America was bizarre. She blinked, forced her eyes wide, and tried to be careful where she placed her hooves as she slowly walked along the narrow walkway, with not even a rail between her and a short drop to the murky water. The boat bobbed gently beneath her shaky hooves. Getting her 'sea legs' would be much more complicated now she had four of them. She peeped through a window. The back third or so of Freedom was a kitchen, or galley, Laura supposed it should be called on a boat. Dolly glanced up from cooking a pancake on the boat's little hob and waved to Laura with the spatula glued to her hoof. She smiled and nodded, not daring to lift a hoof to wave back. The next two windows had closed curtains and were probably cabins. Cabins with comfy beds, she hoped. Along the roof, aluminium frames held solar panels and power cables. At the bow they met another crew pony who was busy arranging a rope into a neat coil on the deck. "Hiya", chirped Buttercup. The young earth pony mare — there were a lot of mares on this boat — looked up and smiled. "Hello. Welcome aboard, stranger." "I'm not that strange, am I?" Buttercup chuckled. "I'm Buttercup and this is Laura." "Vanilla Grey." Laura blinked and one of her eyebrows rose. Vanilla Grey was a fitting name as the mare had a creamy-colour coat of fur and short grey mane and tail. Vanilla Grey snorted a laugh and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, Mom wasn't too creative with that, was she?" Buttercup laughed and said, "Hey, well, I like your name better than mine. 'Buttercup'? Come ooon! Could it be any more filly?" "Not into filly stuff?" "Pfft! No!" Laura slipped by the young mares and walked to the bow. A black and white cat lay on its back in the middle of a coiled up rope, its eyes closed as it dozed in a beam of sunlight that slipped through the forest on shore. That soft-looking exposed belly was very tempting, but she didn't disturb its purring slumber with her clumsy hooves. She sat, yawned, and looked around with bleary eyes. Quiet conversation and the sharp tink of plates came from below deck, through the open cabin door at the front of the boat. Her twitching ears tingled and were slightly numb from the long and loud bus ride. She relaxed, listening to the rhythmic slap of ripples on the hull and rustle of wind through leaves. Her eyes drifted shut. "Quack." "Hmm?" she hummed and leaned over the bow's short rail. A flock of brown ducks waddled out of dry brown rush husks along the shoreline. They splashed into the harbour, ducked their heads beneath the water, fluffed their wings and waggled their cute tails. Laura smiled at them as they paddled past the boat. Someone laughed on shore and her ears and eyes flicked up. Everypony was aboard the boats, leaving just the pair of changelings onshore. She couldn't help smirking as the black ponies played tag around the bus and trailer. They were smaller than an adult pony and behaved rather childishly. Foalishly? A burst of green smokeless fire consumed one of them, and an enormous tabby cat crouched where it had been! It dove under the bus as the other flared with green flames and turned into a spaniel which chased after the cat, yapping its fool head off. A cloud of gnats drifting past reminded Laura to close her mouth, lest she eat one. So. That's why they were called 'changelings'. "Did I hear you badmouthing your Ma?" Captain Batten came around the port side of the cabin and stepped onto the bow. Vanilla snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, no Sir!" Batten's chuckle was as gravelly as her voice. "I bet. Go on below and get something to eat, I'll finish up here." "Thanks, Pa." Vanilla nudged Buttercup and waved to Laura, "Come on landlubbers, follow me." Pa? Laura was too tired to be curious and followed them down three steps from the bow and into a narrow hall running through the centre of the boat. Cabins on either side reminded her of capsule-hotel rooms: a mattress with bedclothes and pillows on a head-high shelf, with a thick blue curtain on the hall-side for privacy. Bags and boxes, rope, and other equipment were stored beneath. They walked past a frosted glass-enclosed shower stall next to a small room with the word 'HEAD' on a brass plaque on its door. The first group of passengers were just leaving as they entered the small galley, shooed out of the kitchen by Dolly Mix the moment they finished their breakfast. The rose-red unicorn, Cathy, floated plates and cups from the table while wiping it clean with a damp cloth in her hooves. When she was finished, Laura, Buttercup, and Vanilla Grey hopped up onto one of the bench seats. The canvas-covered cushions were still warm. The odd couple of stallions and grape-coloured mare came in from the stern and took the opposite bench. The mare, Shiraz, was excited to see a map of northern New York state beneath the transparent plastic top of the table and pointed out where she'd Returned — a town in the middle of New York State called Binghamton. Vanilla Grey shoved a carafe of syrup, the butter dish, and a cream jug out of the way to show them the route they'd be taking along the canal. Laura hid a yawn behind a hoof and gazed out the window, ignoring the conversation and falling into a light doze. Clink, clack. A plate with three enormous pancakes and a cup of something brown and steaming landed in front of her. Laura managed to say, "Thank you", to Cathy before enduring another jaw-cracking yawn. "Welcome. Though you've paid for the food and trip so, really, we should be thanking you." She held a clipboard and pencil in the glow of her magic. "So, you're Laura and Buttercup, right? You want to bunk together?" "Yup!" Buttercup chirped and grinned as Vanilla passed her the syrup. "Yes, please." Laura placed a hoof over the handle of a knife and concentrated on feeling the yellowed plastic. Once she had a good 'grip' on it with her hoof magic, she lifted it up and impatiently waited her turn with the butter. Her tummy felt hollow and sour. Cathy scribbled on the clipboard. "Okay, you're in cabin five. It's starboard side, third one back from the bow, opposite the shower stall." She turned to the mare and stallions. "You boys will be in cabin six next to them and I'll have to put you-" she nodded to Shiraz "-in cabin four with the sisters. That alright?" Laura was still clumsy using a fork with her hoof, but she didn't get too much sweet syrup on her nose. It smelled like the real thing and made her drool like mad! At least her ridiculously long pony tongue was useful for cleaning up. The 'coffee' was sweetish and tasted of malted grain and licorice — a bit like the nasty "Camp" coffee syrup her grandfather sometimes made. It was disgusting, but she washed down the pancakes with it, anyway. She was quickly down to the last pancake and giving it a top-up of syrup when an angry shout came from outside. Cathy cursed, set her clipboard on the table and headed for the steps to the stern. "What's that?" asked Dolly Mix with her hooves deep in the galley's sink. "Probably nothing, but I'd better go see if they need my horn for anything." Buttercup squeezed next to Laura, and they both peered through the window. There wasn't much to see: a group of ponies and changelings — back in their black, cutiemark-less pony forms — gathered around the rear of the trailer. The sliding door was up and everypony was yelling, waving hooves, tails lashing. "What'cha think's goin' on?" asked Buttercup around a mouthful of half-chewed pancake. Laura snorted and pushed a wing out of her face. "I don't know, but it doesn't concern us and I'd like to finish my breakfast if you don't mind." Buttercup grinned sheepishly and settled back into her place. The hubbub had gotten louder and moved onto the dock by the time they'd cleaned their plates. Laura followed Vanilla and Buttercup upstairs to the stern and was startled when Buttercup squealed and leapt into the air. "Chick!" "What?" Laura's hooves clattered and slid on the deck as she lunged over to the port side. Chick's leather-jacketed pinkness stood out from the angry ponies surrounding him on the dock. Buttercup dove through the crowd and tackled him in an energetic hug. He gasped, "Hey, Buttercup!" He looked up and sheepishly waved, "Bonjour, Laura. Good to see you again." She spluttered, at a loss for words. Chick squinted and blinked into the wind blast. Tears streaking down his cheeks felt like ice. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid", he muttered through chattering teeth. "You'll… have to… speak up,… my friend", panted Gavi, his chest heaving against Chick's back. "It's nothing! Just don't drop me!" Gavi didn't waste breath replying, but tightened his arms and claws around Chick's chest. It did little to relieve the terror of being carried through the night sky like a sack of potatoes. Chick's unsupported rump swung beneath them and with every flap of the griffin's mighty wings its pendulum weight felt like it would drag Chick to his death! At least he couldn't see how high up they were. Since leaving Beantown's little puddle of lights behind, it was black black black beneath his dangling hooves. He guessed they were higher than the treetops and flying level, judging by his watery-eyed glimpses of the star-speckled horizon. A deep hum, like a basso profundo bumble bee, announced Apple Squire's return. "I found them! Follow me." Gavi tipped right and dove after Squire, making Chick tense and uselessly pedal his hind legs while his inner ears swam and guts heaved. They slipped past silhouettes of pine trees and over an open space that Chick realised must be the highway. He saw a glimmer of the bus' headlights a kilometre or so ahead. "We got lucky!" Apple Squire's buzzy voice shouted over the wind. "I thought they'd be a lot further away by now." Chick tore his eyes from the hard ground he couldn't see. Squire's natural changeling form was slightly less terrifying than the drop beneath his hooves. Even though they'd been friends for a couple of years, he'd only seen her this way a handful of times: blue mane whipping in the wind, glowing green eyes, a skinny body with a black carapace that glittered in the starlight, jagged and full of unsettling holes. Nothing alive should have holes through it! But she was very much alive and bursting with energy, now that she'd talked him into this asinine plan. Even laden with his saddlebags she could have flown circles around Gavi's ponderous but powerful wings. "H-how am I getting on the bus?" he yelled at her. Chick could hear a cheeky grin in her reply, "You leave that to me, Chicky!" "Can't you use the changeling hive mind to ask the drones driving it to stop?" "Could. Won't", she hummed. "We're flying under the hive's radar on this mission, soldier!" "What?! Why?" Squire zipped closer, brushing Chick with her frantically buzzing wings. "The Queen would not be amused with me helping you." "Why?" he repeated. He was a nopony. Queen Bean wouldn't even know he existed. "Helping Beantown's most eligible bachelor sneak out of town? She'd nail my wings to the hive if she found out! I'm in enough trouble for reliving your, ah, 'tension', instead of hooking you up with a mare or three to squirt foals into." Gavi cawed a breathy laugh. "She's keeps a close eye on everypony in Beantown. It's like watching a soap opera or an ant farm to her, I guess. Pretty sure she started the betting pool on you." Chick wiggled in Gavi's grasp, annoyed but grateful for the distraction from the drop below. "There's a betting pool?" Squire giggled. "Yup!" "Merde." "Okay, let's do this!" Apple Squire zipped ahead and dove. A faint greenish glow from her jagged horn illuminated the back of the U-Haul trailer — and the pavement whipping past a few metres from his dangling hooves! Chick bucked and squirmed. Gavi's arms clutched at him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. "Ay!" Gavi yelled in his ear. "Stop that!" Chick clenched his eyes shut as they flew into the calmer but buffeting air in the trailer's wake. Riding. Yes, it was like he was riding his Ural! The wind in his face. Sound of tires on the pavement. The bus' diesel engine wasn't that different from the big bike's chugging thunder. He started to relax. Gavi's hands shifted their grip and a jolt ran through him! Claws scratched as he squirmed and suddenly he was flung away from Gavi's warm feathers and his eyes popped open! He glimpsed the road beneath him, then a blur of dark shapes while his legs windmilled uselessly in the air, before he crashed into a pile of soft bags and much harder wood crates. "Tabarnak!" "Catch!" yelled Squire a moment before his saddlebags landed on his head. The tough fabric did little to shield him from being thumped by its hard contents. Groaning, he shoved it off with a trembling hoof. Squire's wings buzzed like a two-stroke at full throttle as she alighted into the trailer. The dim light from her horn turned its packed interior a sickly green. "Okay… Well… I guess this is goodbye, Chicky." Chick heaved himself up and slid and stumbled over the mound of luggage to throw his forelegs around her. His heart raced, feeling that it might burst, terrified from the rough landing and the sudden realisation that this truly was the last time he might see her. Her horrid insect-like body creaked as he squeezed. "No. Not goodbye. À la prochaine. Until next time." "Alah pro-chain", she buzzed against him, mangling the pronunciation badly. She giggled and pushed him back. "Good luck, Chicky." "Merci. You too." She jumped backwards out of the U-Haul, wings snapping out and buzzing as she flew up next to Gavi, who flapped hard to stay in the fast-moving trailer's wake. "Bonne journée", he yelled. "Buy me… something nice… in Alexandria… eh?" "I'll send you a postcard. Have a safe drive home, Old Crow." Gavi waved and Apple Squire darted forward to grab the segmented overhead door's handle in her hooves. It rattle down and just before it banged shut she gave him a sad smile and wink. It glowed green at the bottom as she worked the latch and lock, sealing him in. "Wait! How do I get out?" Only the constant roar of wind and tires replied. They were gone. "Great. Shit! What in God's name am I doing?" he grumbled. Stumbling over luggage and crates, he found his saddlebags by their scent. He grabbed them in his teeth and searched for somewhere comfortable to lie down and wait. "-up out of nowhere and-" "-hoofprints on my Samsonite!" "-counts as a passenger if he was on the bus or not!" "-if anything has been stolen, I'm going to-" "Quiet!" a lanky beige stallion shouted at the arguing ponies, changelings, and even a zebra who crowded around Chick on the dock. They were cowed for a moment, but angry muttering and buzzing meant that this was far from over. Chick kept a stiff smile plastered to his muzzle as Laura clomped and slid down the boarding ramp. Buttercup's squeezing forelegs made it difficult to breathe… at least that's what he told himself. "Why are you here?" Laura asked with a sour frown. "'Cause he missed saying 'goodbye', duh!" Buttercup nuzzled his cheek and yelled into his ear, "That's it, right?" "Yes, of course." He clung to Buttercup's excuse, one of many he'd thought of during the long ride to wherever the hell this was, and had rejected as a thin lie. Now, with Laura staring at him, he suddenly knew he really had missed them both and felt terrible for not seeing them off. No, that was a watered down fragment of how he felt, but essentially true. He hoped Laura would believe it and smile for him. Laura's ears flicked back dismissively and she opened her mouth. "A stowaway, Mr Harris?" A blue mare with short brown dreadlocks loudly interrupted. She stood at the top of the plank Laura had come down, pointed a hoof at Chick, and asked, "Does anypony here know this pony?" She waved a hoof at Buttercup, wrapped around Chick. "Other than you, obviously." Buttercup giggled and nuzzled Chick's cheek again, still gripping a hold of him with her forelegs and wings. "I do", admitted Laura. "Me too." A third feminine voice speaking up for him surprised Chick. He craned his neck to look past the zebra stallion's shoulder, and a rose-colour unicorn mare he couldn't remember ever meeting smiled at him from the canal boat while brushing white and red striped mane from her eyes. "Umm… Hello?" She grinned and said, "Disco. Remember?" "Disco?" Was that her name? Did he know anypony named Disco? She laughed, plainly amused by his confusion. "Alright, you lot get up here and we'll have a little chat", said the mare standing on the canal boat. "The rest of you-" she pointed back to shore and commanded "-get back to unloading the bus and trailer. Please. We sail in an hour so shake a leg." Chick nodded to himself. She was the pony in charge and the one he'd have to negotiate with. He patted Buttercup's back as the angry herd broke up around them and moved slowly back down the dock, muttering and giving him dark looks. Buttercup let him go, but stuck by his side as they followed 'Disco' and Laura up the ramp onto the boat, then down a short flight of stairs into the boat's cabin. Another mare, yellow as an ear of corn, was in the boat's kitchen, standing on a raised platform that ran along the counter, her forelegs busy in a sink of soapy water and dishes. "What's going on?" she asked. "That's what we're about to find out", said the dreadlocked mare who'd commanded them to board. She jumped up onto one of the bench seats on either side of the galley table, took off her white cap, and said, "Have a seat everypony." Laura and Buttercup sat on the other bench. He shrugged out of his saddlebags and slid them beneath the table before joining them. "Coffee and pancakes?" asked the disco mare. "Oui, yes, please. You have coffee?" He couldn't help sounding eager. "It's not really coffee", said Laura, crushing his hopes. "Malt, chicory, and roasted acorns", said 'Disco'. "Plus our own secret blend of seven herbs and spices." Chick deflated and shook his head. "Just water for me if you please, merci." He wouldn't insult his palette with fake coffee. Even the scent of it in the small cabin was kind of nauseating. She nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter. Chick stared at her, trying to remember who she was. The three star-like sparkles on her rump weren't familiar. Wasn't there a pony a couple of years back who'd been hounding the town's scavs for 70's funk music? Was that her? "So", said 'Dreadlocks', "I'm Captain Batten and this is my boat. Who are you and why did you sneak into the trailer? How did you sneak onto it? It was locked and you're no unicorn, so you didn't teleport." "I've only ever seen my professor in Alexandria do that", 'Disco' called from over by the stove. "And he's a freak." Chick put on his friendliest smile. "My name is Chicken Whiskers. I work as a Scavenger for Beantown and Nouvelle Acadie. My friends flew after your trailer and broke into it. Sorry about that, I didn't know they were going to do that. I wanted to land somewhere ahead and try to flag down your bus, but…" He sighed. "One of them has a strange sense of humour. She unlocked your trailer, they threw me inside, and locked me in." "Apple Squire", Laura muttered darkly. He shrugged. Good thing the changelings who drove the bus weren't here or there'd be no denying it. With a bit of luck, the Queen would never learn that Squire encouraged and helped him 'escape' her little matchmaking game. Captain Batten hummed and turned to ask, "Cathy, you met him when you lived in Beantown?" "I sure did!" said Cathy, the disco pony. "That crazy-pink fur is hard to forget, and he's the first pony who had any boogie music to trade. Seemed like a nice pony but uptight, you dig?" Cathy pouted cutely and he finally remembered her. Back then her mane had been pulled back into a bun, and she'd worn a big rainbow coloured knitted poncho since she hadn't acclimated to being naked. Being new to life as a pony hadn't stopped her from hitting on him, though. Captain Batten snorted and said, "Well, the Queen doesn't hire idiots or creeps, so I can believe that breaking into the trailer wasn't your idea." "No, ma'am." "Sir." "I'm sorry?" She frowned and said, "Don't call me 'ma'am'. It's 'Sir' or 'Captain Batten' or even just plain 'Captain' will do." Oh. Chick had heard rumours of this: a man Returning as a mare. "Yes sir, Captain. Pardon me." It made him grateful that he'd only turned pink. He, the Captain, waved a hoof and said, "Forget it. You didn't know. So, you broke into our trailer because you missed saying goodbye to your friends here?" "Yes. We only arrived in Beantown the other day, so I was busy catching up with friends-" Laura made a 'hmf' sound, and Chick hesitated, giving her a sidelong glance. "-and I missed the bus by a few minutes. I also didn't learn until too late that both Buttercup and Laura were leaving. It was supposed to be just Buttercup and I'm, ah, responsible for bringing them both in." The Captain nodded, obviously picking up the veiled reference to a finder's fee. Chick had thought very carefully about if he should mention that or not: on one hoof, it made for a convincing reason why he wanted to travel with them to their final destination. On the other, he didn't want to suggest the Captain might cheat him out of the reward for bringing Laura and Buttercup as far as Beantown. Plates, utensils, steaming mugs, and a glass of water floated over to the table. "Scoot over, hon", the mare who'd been cooking said to Captain Batten, who obligingly moved closer to the boat's side to make room. The cook hopped up onto the bench and extended a hoof across the table to Chick. "Hi, I'm Dolly Mix." "Pleased to meet you." They tapped hooves as Cathy arranged plates, cups, and glasses on the table. She sat next to Dolly Mix and everypony began passing the butter and syrup around, aside from Laura and Buttercup. The Captain asked them to tell him about Chick while they ate. Buttercup spoke about his regular visits to the Oak Point Farms and said he was always an honest trader and all-round helpful pony. That was nice to hear. Laura told them about their trip from Nouvelle Acadie. When she reached the part about Buttercup stowing away, Buttercup teased Chick about stealing her idea. Captain Batten finished first and pushed his plate away, "I've heard enough. You seem like a good guy, Chick, and there's no harm done, anyway. So, you'll say your goodbyes and head back on the bus?" "I'd like to go to Alexandria if that's possible." "Really? Sweet!" chirped Buttercup as she hugged him. "Won't Apple Squire miss you? And what about your motorcycle?" Chick was puzzled by how annoyed Laura sounded, and that she was trying to poke holes in his plan. "She'll be fine and my bike is safely stored in its usual garage for the winter. It'll be there when I get back in the spring." Which would net The Captain another transportation fee. Captain Batten hummed quietly and asked Cathy, "What do you think? Do we have room and board for one more?" She floated over a clipboard and nodded. "We'll be good for food but it is kind of crowded this trip. We'll have to put him in cabin six with the other two bachelors." "Nooo…", whined Buttercup as she snuggled closer. "He can stay with us. Right, Laura?" "Well, I-" "There'll be no unwed ponies sharing a bed under my roof!" stated Dolly Mix with a frown. She glanced between them and asked, "You're not married, are you?" "Goodness, no!" Chick tried not to wince. Buttercup shook her head, "Nope. That'd just be weird. But it really wouldn't be a problem if he stayed with us! We slept together in Chick's tent for days on the way to Beantown." The cook shook her head, "This isn't Chick's tent, young mare. You follow our rules while on board or you can take the bus back to Beantown." Chick spoke up. "With the other stallions is fine with me. Thank you." "Testosterone Central it is", quipped Cathy as she wrote on her clipboard. He was not looking forward to sleeping next to other stallions and, from what he could see of the closest cabin, they were nothing more than a mattress on a shelf. They would be packed in like sardines! There was more room in the tent, and separate sleeping bags. But bunking with other stallions would be safer than being squeezed between Laura and Buttercup, rubbing shoulders and other things. Things that had a mind of their own. If Laura weren't engaged and liked him back, that could be heaven — as things were now, though, it would be torture. Captain Batten said, "Alright, why don't you ladies go get your things from the bus while we negotiate payment." Chick slipped down off of the seat and dragged his saddlebags out of their way. Buttercup bounded up the stairs and Laura stopped in front of him, stared at him with a frown on her delicate muzzle, and she seemed to make up her mind about something. Before he could say anything she stepped forward and gave him a quick, half-hearted hug with one leg around his shoulders. She walked carefully up the stairs, tripping on the last step and stumbling, though she didn't fall. It was endearing, somehow, and he wanted to chase after her, make sure she was okay. "Ahem." Captain Batten smiled and tapped the table top. "I hope you have something worthwhile to trade, Scav." Chick grinned and patted his saddlebags. "Yes, sir. If you have a working laptop or tablet, I have several terabytes of games, movies, music, and books." Sleep hadn't been easy in the dark uncomfortable cargo trailer, and every time he'd jolted awake he'd thought about his sales pitch. He wasn't in a great bargaining position, since he was fully committed to this course and would do whatever it took to be on this boat when it sailed. Not that the Captain knew it. So, Chick smiled casually and hoped they'd be interested in things to occupy the crew and passengers during a long and probably boring trip. Data was cheaper to trade than his horde of precious metal and gems, but secretly he knew that they were on the table if it came to that. "Got any Parton?" asked Dolly Mix. "Dolly, Stella, or Randy?" She rolled her eyes and drawled, "Why, Dolly o'course, shugar." "I have all her albums and movies." He'd found a RAID enclosure that had belong to a country music die-hard last year. Not really Chick's thing, but he dutifully watched and listened to all of it to make sure the files weren't corrupted. She whinnied and bounced on the bench seat, causing Batten and Cathy's ears to flick back. "Eeee… You have Nine to Five?" "Oui." She gazed at her husband with pleading eyes and a gleeful grin on her muzzle. Batten chuckled and said, "Welcome aboard, Mr Whiskers."