Chapter 43
Wings of Fancy
Somewhere in a hallway high above Kamelut, a duck and a pony were running hunted. The alarm had been sounded and a hundred other bugs, camels and zahaks were after them both.
Ever since the moment they arrived in the flying fortress, Applejack and Donald had been trying to find a means to escape. The armed patrol of hired goons seemed omnipresent. Wherever they ran, they were cut off by some thug or another, all determined to recapture the fugitives. Or worse.
Bursting through a door, they were suddenly in a maze of office cubicles. Where they would run to find an escape, neither knew. Only that they had to keep going, lest the band of goons catch them.
Two bugs, a camel and a zahak barged into the office space. Their quarry had already disappeared into the twists and turns of the room, so the group of four split up to search for them.
Finding the exit was more difficult than anticipated. Every turn had more corners beyond it. Every narrow passage had some obstacle or another, be it an office worker or equipment, or just another seemingly endlessly long wall.
As Donald and Applejack ran, the wall beside them became a long pane of glass. The view beyond showed truly how vast the flying fortress was. All was a vast metropolis built in the sky. Streetcars, sky trams, lifts and monorails were seen ferrying their passengers all over from street to street and building to building. Great smokestacks spewed magical exhaust from their open spouts. Most of all, railways were seen sprawling out into the horizon in every visible direction.
But, the scenery could not be appreciated. An escape still had to be accomplished.
Rounding a corner, Donald bumped into a zahak, who was carrying a stack of files. Without missing a beat, the duck snatched the files from her and teetered down the aisle, doing his best to keep the stack from falling.
Applejack ran ahead, and stopped suddenly when a bug and a zahak rounded the corner before her. She turned around, making Donald spin as she ran past him, and stopped again when a bug and a camel rounded the corner before her again.
Trapped between four enemies, there was only one option left.
The camel ran forth and charged Applejack.
The farmpony ducked and wove through the larger creature’s legs.
Donald spun out of the way, keeping the stack of files precariously balanced.
Around them, the workers in their cubicles peeked out to see what was causing the uproar in their office.
With one strong punch, Donald was sent sprawling into the wall of a cubicle, still holding his papers.
“Nothin’ to see here! Just keep workin’!” the duck said. He looked forward and saw his opponents closing in again. “Wak!!”
Thinking quickly, Donald passed the papers off to the zahak who approached him. With his hands full, the zahak could not properly attack, allowing Donald to defend himself.
He was pushed into a cubicle by a bug, where the flea working within hopped onto his desk to avoid the brawl.
Donald grabbed the worker’s swivel chair and swung it in front of himself. Charging forward, he pushed his opponent back into the hall.
Now free of the carnage, the flea hopped into the next cubicle, then hopped his way out of the danger zone.
More of the workers fled the area, alerting the others to the dangerous brawl around them. Even the window washer outside the building climbed down his own safety line to avoid trouble. On their way out, security was alerted to the incident. More thugs would be arriving, and would soon overwhelm the two fugitives.
Applejack bobbed around the other bug’s attacks, and was about to buck them both down the aisle.
The zahak passed the papers to Applejack, who could no longer buck with the papers on her back, for fear of ruining another creature’s work.
The camel kicked Applejack in her jaw, making the farmpony jolt backwards.
Without losing her focus, Applejack kept the papers balanced, and backed into the bug who was attacking Donald.
The bug caught the papers, now unable to fight for not having the heart to ruin the work of an office drone.
Donald swiveled his office chair back and forth, blocking punches from both sides. Rearing the chair back, he used the wheels to smash the toes of his zahak opponent.
As the zahak recoiled in pain, Donald saw the bug next to him about to fall over.
Quickly, the duck placed the chair for the bug to sit on and saved the stack of papers the bug held.
With a strong kick, Donald pushed the swivel chair down the aisle.
Applejack sensed the danger behind herself and jumped out of the way.
The bug she was fighting ducked into the adjacent cubicle.
The camel was hit square in the face, and teetered backwards down the aisle. Somehow, the stack of files had landed on his head, and he was doing his best to keep them balanced.
Slowing to a halt, he stopped beside the zahak who had lost the papers in the first place.
Gratefully, the worker took her papers back.
“'Asaf li'ayi azeaja. Alsalam ealaykum, sayidati aleazizat,” the camel apologized, before charging forward.
None were safe from the charging camel. Two bugs were plowed down in his way, before Donald realized the danger he was in.
He shielded himself with his swivel chair, but was simply swept up in it by the camel.
Applejack too was caught in the path of destruction, and clung tightly to Donald when the chair hit her.
The zahak was plowed out of the way when the chair’s two passengers saw that they were headed straight for the window.
Both tried to bail, but were caught up trying to climb over one another to do much of anything useful. With a loud crash, the glass pane shattered and they were sent flying over the airborne metropolis.
It was only the window washer’s platform that saved them. Reaching out, Donald and Applejack caught hold of the rope that dangled by the simple wooden workstation.
Dangling from fifty stories up, they climbed to the solid ground of the platform.
Their enemies were still waiting for them inside the building. Wasting no time, they both grabbed the rope next to themselves, and started hauling the entire contraption upward.
“Nice going, sand-sucker!! You let them escape!” one of the bugs chided the camel.
“Quit givin’ him grief! He can’t understand you! Besides, we already know where they’re going! Come on!” the other bug said.
Donald and Applejack did not stop hauling themselves up, until they reached the very zenith of the platform’s height. There, the pulley and tackle the rope was attached to began to creak under their combined weight.
Not wanting to face the plunge, Donald and Applejack leapt to the nearby balcony, just as the platform they were on broke and went falling to the ground below.
Back on solid ground, they ran through one of the open glass doors that was nearby.
The room they found themselves was greatly different from the rest of the office building. Here, there were many, many models lain about. Trains ran up and along the perimeter of the walls. Model sky trams, lifts and aircrafts hung from the ceiling. Ships of all shapes and sizes bobbed in a vast pool of simulated ocean in the floor. And on stands, podiums and shelves, all cars from all eras were put on display.
One glass case displayed a grand, old-fashioned aviator’s uniform. Bomber jacket, leather cap, goggles and all.
In the center of it all on the furthest wall was a grand desk with an even grander chair. On the wall behind the desk, a fifty foot self-portrait of Bosco DiMosco hung, depicting the magnate standing atop a mound of treasure that would have turned Uncle Scrooge green.
“Applejack, I think we’re in the wrong room…” Donald said.
“It ain’t no problem, long as DiMosco ain’t here! But, let’s make ourselves scarce anyway! Before those bugs come back!” Applejack said.
They were about to run for the exit, when something caught Applejack’s eye.
It was a blueprint. A massive blueprint that covered the wall from end to end. Drawn in white and red was a vastly enlarged world map, much like the kind Applejack had seen in books when she was in school.
What disturbed her was the drawings all over it. Long lines of railroad radiated from Kamelut. And they all had dates printed near them. For some, the dates had already passed, and were circled in green with dollar signs next to them. Others, the dates were coming near.
A terrible thought entered her mind, and she followed the railway that ran eastward. There on the map, Equestria was circled in white, and the date for completion was only weeks away.
“This is real bad, Don! He’s tryin’ to spread his business back to Equestria!” Applejack said.
“That’s not all he’s doin’. Take a look at this,” Donald said, as he presented papers that were lying near the blueprints.
Applejack’s eyes darted across the papers. From what she could tell, it was a list of business names with dates next to them. Once again, many had dates that were already passed, and were circled with green dollar signs next to them. Others were scratched out in red, which still had green dollar signs. Going down the list, she found the names of familiar businesses she knew very well indeed.
Sugarcube Corner was the first one she noticed. Following that was the Cloudsdale weather factory and the Wonderbolt Academy. Her heart nearly stopped when she found Sweet Apple Acres on that list.
“Thi--This--That dirty, son of a rented mule!! What gives him the right--How’s he even know--!!” Applejack stammered through her bursting rage.
“It’s what every businessman does. They research everything, before they acquire it,” Donald said.
“Well, he ain’t gettin’ Sweet Apple Acres!! He can keep anything else I got! But, that’s my home he’s messin’ with!!”
DiMosco’s reach was more than a business monopoly. It was world conquest. If he owned everything, ran everything, by perfectly legitimate means no less, he would be unstoppable. Now, Applejack had all the more reason to squash the fly.
“Don’t sweat it. Long as you got me, Uncle Scrooge and Fluttershy watchin’ your back, you got nothin’ to worry about,” Donald assured his friend. “Let’s get outta here, first! Those goons are probably halfway up the stairs to get us by now!”
The duck was only half right. The goons were all the way up the stairs to get them by now.
Heavy footsteps were heard clamoring up the stairs, ready to apprehend the two fugitives.
There was no escape. The window washer’s platform had broken, and the only other exit was through the door to the stairs.
Donald cursed the designer of the office. Why did someone as important, busy and elderly as DiMosco not have an elevator installed. Then again, it was probably by not using the elevator that DiMosco stayed so spry for his age.
A look to the aviator’s suit, and Donald was given an idea. Along with a new pair of wings, they were going to fly out.
“Ya gotta buck the sides of that case!” Donald said to Applejack, pointing to the glass display.
“What for!?” Applejack said.
“For savin’ our sorry keisters!”
Not one to doubt another’s plan when she was bereft of ideas, Applejack obliged.
She bucked one side of the glass case, rounded to the other, and shattered the other.
Donald caught the glass doors and gently laid them down. He grabbed the aviator’s bomber, hat, gloves and goggles, and quickly put them all on.
“Oh, no,” Applejack quietly protested, seeing where Donald’s plan was going.
The duck picked up the glass doors by their handles.
“No!” Applejack said with finality.
“If you wanna buck your way out, that’s fine with me!” Donald said, as he put his goggles over his eyes.
“Works fer me too!”
The door burst open, and Applejack took a bucking stance against the horde that had entered.
“Will you come on!!!?” Donald said, as he grabbed Applejack by her tail and dragged her out to the balcony.
Using his glass wings, Donald scooped Applejack onto his back and forced her to hold on, as he jumped over the side.
Doing his best to keep steady, the duck managed to glide as though Fluttershy were his passenger.
“Will ya stop wobblin’ already!” Applejack said.
“Hey! I’m glidin’ on glass here! I’d say I’m doing pretty darn good with what I got!!” Donald rebutted.
A zahak on the balcony took a pistol from his robes. With careful aim, he fired a single shot, which shattered one of the glass wings.
Kudos and congratulations were shared by the goons on the balcony, who all watched as their quarry started spiraling downward like a struck plane. Once they saw where they landed, they would scrape up what was left with a spatula.
“We’re hit! Mayday! Mayday!!” Donald shouted, as the sound of a sputtering engine was heard over his shouts.
Applejack and Donald both screamed as they tried to regain control of their flight trajectory. But with one wing, it was a futile attempt.
They rolled and spiraled through the air, keeping their best from crashing into any buildings, cables or public transportations.
Donald swerved around another sky tram. When one danger passed, another presented itself in the form of a silver, sparkling cloud of exhaust.
Though not at all noxious or obstructive to breathing, the glittering fog made it hard for either Applejack or Donald to see where they were going. And it was that which kept them from seeing that they were flying right into the mouth of the smokestack where the exhaust was coming from.
With a loud crash, Donald’s other wing was shattered, and he and Applejack went tumbling down to the bowels of the flying fortress.
End over end they tumbled through the dark corridor, growing closer to the glowing reactor below themselves.
Applejack propped her legs against the sides of the smokestack, her hooves trailing sparks as she slid downward.
The sides of the shaft were growing broader, making it more difficult to stop.
The farmpony stretched her limbs as far as they would go, and felt herself slowing down. It seemed she was going to avoid an unpleasant death.
Donald landed on her back, and dislodged her hooves, sending them both down to the reactor.
“CRUMB-MUNCHIN’, SON OF A GANDER!!” Applejack shouted, as they fell downward.
“OH YEAH!! SO’S YOUR OLD MAN!!!” Donald rebutted.
Curses and blows were exchanged during the descent, until they noticed the ground growing brighter beneath them.
They screamed when they saw the reactor was upon them.
Donald took Applejack’s hooves in his hands. They both stretched their arms as far as they could, and bucked their legs backward.
Webbed feet and hooves scraped against the walls, slowly lowering their momentum.
Just as they stopped, Donald felt his toes just peek over the edge of the smokestack’s vent and lost his footing.
The duck swung his feet forward, forcing himself and Applejack both to attempt to fly over the reactor. Both of their tails just brushed the sparkling core, and sizzled loudly. Other than that, they landed unharmed on the floor.
“It’s official. Next time Mickey needs help shoppin’ for gifts, I’m tellin’ him where to stick it,” Donald grumbled, as he painfully sat up.
Both he and Applejack noticed the magical core, and took a moment to look at it.
“That’s somethin’ you never see back home,” Donald said.
“Not here, neither. Least, not one this big,” Applejack answered. “Probably what’s keepin’ this whole city flyin’.”
“Boy, oh boy. Just think. A whole city that can fly right out of its foundation.”
“An’ try thinkin’ what a rustler like DiMosco would do with somethin’ like it.”
“I don’t think I wanna…” Donald answered. He stood up, and noticed that the metal panels beneath his feet were somewhat loose. “Let’s go down this way. I don’t wanna risk runnin’ into a bunch of overzealous maintenance teamsters at the door.”
“Way ahead o’ ya, partner,” Applejack said.
With a powerful stomp, she bent one end of the floor panel, sending it flipping into the air. With Donald still on it.
“WAAAAK!!!” Donald shouted, as he fell through the open hole in the floor.
Applejack quickly followed, and found herself and Donald both in the crawlspace where all of the pipes and wires were.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Applejack apologized.
“It’s nothin’. Just remember who gets stuck with all the bad luck,” Donald said.
They both crawled through the narrow space, barely able to move at all for the cramped conditions. They squirmed like oversized rats through a tiny maze, following only one particular metal pipe.
“Hang on a sec’,” Donald said, when he stopped suddenly.
“Find somethin’?” Applejack asked.
“Yeah. I think it’s the back of a breaker box. I’m gonna try and push it loose.”
Rather than wait for Donald to push the box out of the wall it was set into, Applejack began squirming around to face the other direction.
“Hey! What’re you doin’ back there!?” Donald said, when he felt his backside repeatedly pushed.
Once she had turned around, Applejack reared back her hooves and bucked as hard as she could.
Donald was smashed face first into the panel, which popped out of the wall, and sent him to the floor below.
Applejack followed after, crawling out backwards, and dropping nearly twenty hooves onto what seemed to be a tree branch. She fell and hit another, then another and another. After one last rough hit, she landed flank first on what felt like a patch of cactus.
“YEEOWCH!!!” the farmpony hollered, as she jolted to her hooves.
“Serves ya right,” Donald grumbled, as he readjusted his cap and goggles.
Applejack was about to rebut, until she saw what she had landed on. Not a cactus, but a patch of flowers. But, that was not all. The flowers were made out of diamonds, which had been carefully placed and arranged to simulate the appearance of flowers.
Even grander still, the diamond flowers were set into a verdant hill of emeralds, with boulders of precious stones, silver and platinum dotting them. Trees that dotted the hill were made from amber, with leaves of gold and gems of all colors.
Before them was a path made completely of golden bricks. A stream of sapphires, topaz and turquoise flowed like a real river. Looking at it, Applejack expected a fish to hop out and wink at her.
A five-tiered fountain of the purest silver spewed the finest grained gold dust from its top, which poured like sand down to the bottom.
Dotting the sides of the golden path were statues of DiMosco, crafted from pure platinum. Some showed the magnate laughing and dancing. Others showed him sitting contemplatively. Overall, they were all self-aggrandizing debaucheries of a mind twisted by the almighty dollar.
Even though there were no lights in the room, everything was illuminated by a massive gold nugget, which caught the light from the windows and reflected light onto everything like a great, golden sun.
“Dang…” Applejack exhaled. “Where in the hayseeds are we?”
“We’re in DiMosco’s money bin,” Donald said, partly in fear, and partly in awe of how much greater and grandiose the bin was than his uncle’s.
It was the worst place to be. The only safe exit was the hole in the wall that was high out of their reach. And if DiMosco was anything like his uncle, Donald knew that the proper exit would be loaded with booby traps. Wherever it was in that bejeweled landscape.
Without much other option, Donald and Applejack both began searching for a way out.
In a scrapyard only miles away, another group of friends was holed up with little hope of escape.
From his rooftop, the Harry the assassin hornet sat patiently with his sniper rifle, awaiting the moment that his targets would appear again. He had very nearly gunned down the pegasus, and was anticipating the moment one of them would try to escape through the shed’s skylight again.
For just a moment, Harry noticed a smudge of his rifle’s lense. Knowing he would need to maintain perfect vision at all times, he took his eye from the scope and retrieved a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, never once taking his eyes from the shed.
From the corner of his vision, the assassin noticed something else. More of his insect cohorts were walking down the street toward the scrap shop, led by the Big Bad Wolf. In only minutes, they would meet DiMosco in the scrapyard out back, and do whatever it was they were summoned to do.
Time was running out for the prisoners in the shed. Only one plan had been offered. And it seemed the most incredulous of all.
“Fly out…?” Fluttershy timidly asked, upon hearing Uncle Scrooge’s plan. “But...But…”
“But nothin’, lass. It’s the quickest way we’ll escape. An’ it’s the fastest way we’ll catch up to wherever Donald an’ Applejack are goin’.”
“You’d be better off walking,” Qard said. “I’ve been trying to get this contraption airborne for over fifty years. Nothing has worked.”
“Then, ye haven’t found the reason why it’s not workin’,” Uncle Scrooge replied.
“That’s where you are wrong, duck. Look at this.”
Uncle Scrooge and Fluttershy both followed Qard around to the side of his machine, where he opened up the panel on the main body.
Inside, there were many working parts. Many of which were familiar to Uncle Scrooge. Others were completely foreign to him, but he could guess how they worked within the machine. But even if he was not familiar with some of the machinery, one thing was clear to him.
“Do you see?” Qard said.
“No,” Fluttershy answered.
“There are many parts missing. Irreplaceable components lost to the desert sands.”
“What exactly makes them irreplaceable?” Uncle Scrooge asked.
“Because without them, there is no way to draw, regulate or stabilize the power drawn from the mithra stones. I’ve looked and looked through my acres of junk, but there’s nothing that can substitute!” Qard answered.
It was a problem indeed. Without those imperative components, the machine was doomed to be grounded forever.
Fluttershy knew nothing of how such a machine would work, and curiously observed the innards of the working parts.
“How does it work?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Qard wondered.
“The engine. How does it draw power from the mithra stones?”
“What good does knowing that do you?” the elderly zahak sighed.
Fluttershy was silent, as she meekly hid behind her mane. But one look at her, and Qard knew he could not leave her unobliged.
“It all has to do with friction,” Qard began. “Like two pieces of flint, if you rub mithra stones hard enough, they produce energy that can be put to another use. Then, that power has to be condensed, regulated, and distributed through the craft.” Qard leaned against his workbench and sighed again. “It was Khabuubhi who figured out all of that. He could take the sand from his fez and find five different uses for it.”
Whatever gift his friend had, Qard knew that he lacked it. He knew that that was what held back his completion of the dream they once shared. The only thing that kept him going was the motivation to see it through. But, if only that were good enough.
“Is that all that needs to be done?” Uncle Scrooge asked, after examining the engine.
DiMosco’s thugs arrived outside, equipment in hand to demolish the shed.
“It’s not as simple as it sounds. Parts like them were not easy to come by in the first place--”
“An’ yet, ye found ‘em. Didn’t ye?” the tycoon reasoned. “Ye already said that yer friend found new uses for everything, from these magic marbles, to the sand beneath our feet. I’d bet my Number One Dime he used less than conventional parts to get this bird flyin’.”
“Not so unconventional. We used parts from other machines to make that engine.”
“An’ we’re gonna do it again,” Uncle Scrooge said, with a glint in his eye.
The entire shed rattled, as if it had been struck by a heavy impact.
“But, can we hurry, please!?” Fluttershy said, as she hid beneath the flying machine.
“Aye! No sense waitin’ around for the shack to come down upon us!” Uncle Scrooge said, as he held his aching chest.
More blows rattled the shed on all sides. Many dents were punched in, warping the walls, threatening to tear the entire structure down by sheer force.
Time was not on their side. If they were to escape, everything had to be done double time.
Uncle Scrooge recalled everything he knew about aircraft mechanisms, and mixed it with the knowledge of what Qard had told him of the marvelous engine. Between the two, he thought he could make something that could scrap the engine together. With only the tools that were available in the shed, no less.
One particularly heavy blow to the shed snapped the tycoon from his thoughts.
“Listen: I’m gonna give ye some parts to put into the engine. No matter how odd it may sound, ye have to affix them to the machine,” Uncle Scrooge said. Before giving Qard or Fluttershy a chance to answer, he began issuing orders, which were only just audible over the sounds of the shed being buffeted. “I’ll need the belt sander, that hand pump, some hoses, an’ the tools to take ‘em apart!”
Nothing was said afterward. Fluttershy started to crawl out from under the flying machine, and recoiled when Qard hurriedly walked past her. Once he was by, the pegasus crawled out and began collecting the tools.
At one of the shelves, Fluttershy started collecting all of the tools she could carry.
Dutifully, the beetle in her mane climbed the shelf, and collected the last, tiniest wrench that remained. With the tool over its shoulder, it climbed back to Fluttershy, and helped carry its tiny load back to the work area.
Qard brought the requested equipment, and went searching for more.
Uncle Scrooge worked diligently and quickly, as the shed started popping at its seams.
With every part taken out, it was handed off to Qard, who was instructed how to apply it to the engine. A conveyance mechanism there. A pump shaft in another spot. Hoses leading this way and that.
One seam of the shed was burst open, and the end of a crowbar was seen prising it apart.
Fluttershy quickly pushed one of the tool shelves to clinch the crowbar against the wall it was pulling open.
Once the tool was incapacitated, the pegasus started daintily trying to take it away.
Her limited strength was no good.
The beetle crawled down her front legs to her hooves, over to the other end of the crowbar, and bit the hand that held it.
The jolt of pain was just what was needed for the thug to let go of his crowbar, making Fluttershy fall over backwards with the tool in her hooves. The beetle popped up into the air, and landed back safely in her mane.
With a grateful smile from Fluttershy, she was about to thank the little bug. Another loud clamor was heard outside, making Fluttershy yelp loudly and backpedal to the center of the shed.
“Are you almost done? Please say yes…” the pegasus beckoned.
Completion was growing near. With every passing second, a familiar feeling grew within the elderly zahak. Even with his failing health, he felt as young and alive as he did the day he joined Khabuubhi in fulfilling his dream of flight.
In his mind’s eye, he could see the shape and the form the engine was going to take. Everything he needed was under his own nose, and he never knew it. Truly, Khabuubhi’s magical gift was shared with the duck and his pegasus companion.
Something was heard climbing on the roof. Somehow, one of the creatures had managed to get on top of the shed. And they were heading straight toward the skylight.
Over the sounds of the shed being beaten open, Fluttershy thought she could hear something more clattering on the roof. Like claws on padded feet scratching the metal.
“Oh no!...Not him!...” she whimpered.
Their time was gone. It was now or never. They would fly, or they would die trying.
“Get into the pilot’s seat and start the ignition! The red knob!!” Qard shouted, as he worked more hastily on the engine.
Uncle Scrooge did as instructed, and jumped into the seat at the front of the machine. Just as Qard had said, there was a red knob, which the tycoon pulled and twisted.
There was a choking sound, and the entire machine began to shake.
The inside parts moved in perfect harmony, and the mithra stones lit up with a brilliant light as they were rapidly rubbed by the parts from the belt sander. The engine sputtered, and the propeller at the front started to spin.
Qard watched in awe. Soon, his lifelong dream would come to life. But, he could not celebrate.
A vicious growl rang through the shed, as Big Bad dropped through the skylight, cleavers drawn, claws and fangs bared.
“Aged duck an’ pony fillet!! Comin’ up!!” the glutton bellowed, as he lunged forward with his mouth agape.
Fluttershy screamed and hid beneath the machine, hoping she would not be followed down there.
Qard grabbed a bit from his drill press between his hands, and stuffed the oversized tool into Big Bad’s mouth.
The glutton would not be stopped so easily. He swung his cleavers, tearing through Qard’s robes and eliciting a shout of pain from the elderly zahak.
“Mr. Qard!!” Fluttershy shouted.
“Get in the passenger seat!! Now!” Qard ordered, as he used his drill bit to deflect the blows of Big Bad’s cleavers.
Fluttershy watched in terrified awe. She did not know if the machine was at all flightworthy, given the rushed nature of the repair. Worse still was the feeling that if anything ever happened to Qard, she would never forgive herself
The beetle hopped out of Fluttershy’s mane and into the opening of the machine’s panel. With one leg, it began closing the engine hatch, but stopped to share one last look to Fluttershy.
No magic was needed to tell the pegasus what the tiny bug was trying to say. It had nothing but appreciation for what she had done for it since they met. And if it had anything to do with anything that ever happened to her, it would see to it that the machine would fly safely.
Before Fluttershy could say her goodbyes, the beetle closed the panel and set to carefully monitoring the maintenance of the engine. Silently wishing her smallest friend the best of luck, the pegasus crawled into the passenger seat of the flying machine, and braced herself for the ride.
Qard blocked the wild blows of Big Bad, and felt his health falter again. He coughed loudly and keeled over.
Big Bad raised his cleavers, and swung them both down.
A loud, metallic scrape was heard, and Big Bad’s cleavers lodged themselves stuck in the grooves of the massive drill bit.
Qard panted as he held up his only means of defense between his face and his opponent’s blades.
All around, the shed started to pop open at its seams.
“You want to knock my shed down!?” Qard growled, as he pushed Big Bad backwards. “Then, I will happily oblige!!!”
With one last burst of strength, Alshuhum Qard pushed Big Bad across the floor, right into the front of the shed.
There was a loud crash, and the entire front wall was knocked down, revealing the world beyond its four walls.
“We did it!!” one of the bugs celebrated.
The sight of the moving plane caught everyone’s attention. As it bumped its way over the fallen wall, the goons all dodged out of the way.
“That thing’s not supposed to work just yet, isn’t it?” one of the bugs asked.
DiMosco could not believe his compound eyes. Somehow, the zahak had cracked the secret to harnessing the marvelous engine’s power at the exact time it would be most inconvenient to him.
Before he was run down, he dove aside and rolled to his feet. He was only just able to see the tail of the machine speed past him.
“Son of a--” The magnate shouted, as he tossed his hat to the ground.
He would not lose. He knew where they were flying to. And he would head them off there. Turning to his minions, he barked orders as quickly as he thought them.
“All o’ you, get to the comm stations an’ spread the word to every corner o’ home base: anything flyin’ in the air’s gettin’ shot down! I don’t care if it’s a flock o’ geese! I don’t care if it’s yer granny buzzin’ in with a thermos full o’ chicken soup!! She an’ everything else that flies is bullet bait!! While yer puttin' the word out, I wanna have an express airbus waitin' for me soon as I get to the tram station!! An’ someone find that Big Bad Blowhard, an’ tell him to haul his hairy heiney back to H.Q.!!”
“I think he’s gettin’ there quicker than us,” one of the bugs said.
DiMosco did not stay around to hear what was said. He was already rushing off to reach H.Q. and deal with the intruders.
Down on the runway, Uncle Scrooge tried over and over to get airborne. No matter how he tried, they remained grounded.
“A-Are we flying yet?” Fluttershy asked from her crouched position.
“No! I can’t get so much as a lift in altitude on this blasted thing!” Uncle Scrooge replied.
Fluttershy dared to peek up and see what was happening. They were speeding along the runway at a steady pace, with the end coming up quickly with a dropoff into the dunes.
She hoped that something would happen before they reached that point. Somehow, if the machine should decide to fly, she wished it would come soon.
Just barely audible over the engine, Fluttershy heard a scratch. Like nails on a chalkboard. Looking to the source of it, she was horrified to see a single clawed hand of The Big Bad Wolf clinging to the tailfins of the machine.
The fanged face of the glutton just began to rise over the frame of the tail, when Fluttershy reached into the pilot’s seat for Uncle Scrooge’s cane.
Keeping the cane firmly in her teeth, she leaned out of her seat much further than she ever cared to do, and started prising Big Bad’s claws loose.
One by one, the digits were pulled free. And with every claw removed, she thought she could feel the wheels of the machine rise ever so slightly.
The final claw was removed, and Big Bad started falling away from the machine.
Before he even fell a centimeter, there was a flash of metal. A cleaver in the glutton’s other hand was slammed deep into the machine’s frame, allowing him to pull himself closer than ever to his timid prey.
Fluttershy screamed at the sight, and recoiled sharply.
The moment she pulled her head back, she inadvertently uppercutted Big Bad in his nose.
“OWW!!” the glutton shouted, as he held his throbbing nose. It was only too late that he realized he was rubbing it with both hands.
End over end, Big Bad rolled through the sand, and slid to a stop.
One danger was passed, but the dropoff at the end of the runway was growing rapidly closer.
The machine started to jump as it rolled closer to the end of the runway.
“What’s happening!!?” Fluttershy panicked.
Uncle Scrooge did not answer. His mind was focused on achieving takeoff.
The wheels lifted ever so slightly off the ground, and gingerly touched back down.
“Mr. McDuck…!!?”
Fluttershy was completely ready to bail out, but the dropoff was already upon them.
There was one last jolt upward, and the machine went plummeting downward over the side.
“Yes!!” Big Bad shouted, as he victoriously slammed his fist to the ground. Now, he would only have to run to the wreckage, salvage the engine, then eat the leftover passengers.
He rose to all fours and ran as fast as he could to the edge of the dropoff, eagerly anticipating the easy, if uncooked, meal.
Wholly and completely unexpectedly, Big Bad was thrown off balance the moment he reached the dropoff. With a mighty whoosh, the aircraft shot up as if it had burst free from the sands and into the sky.
Big Bad teetered and fell down the dropoff, rolling to a stop in the dunes below. His head was buried so that only his ears poked above the sand, which caught the sounds of celebration heard over the jubilant laughter of the flying engine.
“We done it lass!! We’re up!! WE’RE FLYIN’!!!!” Uncle Scrooge shouted, as he jumped up and down in his seat.
In the innards of the machine, the beetle jumped for joy, squeaking happily on its tiny platform.
Fluttershy’s fear slowly subsided as she peered out of her seat. The town below was growing smaller, and all the creatures seemed as small as the bugs she had so carefully minded beneath her hooves. They were so high up, and without the aid of any magic she had.
It was a feeling she had all but forgotten. No balloon, no dirigible had ever given her the feeling she had in that moment. It was just as Alshuhum Qard said. She was experiencing the full joy that any flying creature ever felt. Truly, it was the greatest thing comparable to natural flight. If only Rainbow Dash was there to share it with her.
The camels and zahaks of the town all looked up in awe as the machine flew circles above them. None of them could believe what they saw. Many of them had lived their lives knowing of Qard’s dream to fly again. And there it was over their heads.
One young camel in the crowd looked in wonder and amazement. Many of his friends were zahaks, who he never thought he would be able to join in their aerial escapades. In that moment, anything seemed possible.
From his vantage point, Harry laid his rifle across his lap and watched the craft fly through the sky. Even from where he was sitting, he knew that his targets were out of range of his bullets. Instead of trying to drop them out of the sky, he simply watched, wondering what kind of future DiMosco Transit would have had if they had stolen that engine first.
Back in the broken shed, Alshuhum Qard shouted, laughed and celebrated until his arms were sore and his voice was hoarse. After his voice and his body, his health started waning once again.
He coughed loudly, and his lungs in his chest felt liable to collapse. But, he did not care. With a joyous smile, he retrieved his chair from the shed and pulled it to the front, where he could sit down and watch his dream take flight.
“I wish you could have seen me today, Khabuubhi…” the elderly zahak said, as he slowly closed his eyes. “...I flew today...I finally flew…”
His eyes closed, and his breath grew quiet.
“If only...there weren’t so much left to do…”
And with a quiet sigh, he sat silently in his chair, as his friends flew on the wings of his dream come true.
“What am I doing!?” Qard loudly wondered, as he abruptly stood from his seat. “There’s so much left to do, and I’ll never get anywhere by sleeping through it!!”
There was nothing left that seemed impossible. With one project complete, there were more to be discovered and completed. With the spirit of his departed friend within him, he looked one last time to the sky, silently thanking the new friends who had so unexpectedly come into his life.