//------------------------------// // A cavalcade of progression // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// There were two types of magic in the world for Sundance; things that were magical and things that seemed magical. The magic of the barony was the former, and the dome home was the latter. He stuck his head inside and was immediately entranced. What had he been expecting? Not this—not this by a long shot. Just inside the door, he froze and had himself a look around. “Watch your step, Baron,” Commander Humblewood said from behind. “There’s quite a drop and no rail yet.” There was indeed. Just beyond the door was a raised landing, and to the left, there was a long, smooth, curved ramp that wrapped halfway around the interiour. And what an interiour! The inside had to be at least four yards across at the widest point of the circle, which was far, far more spacious than he’d first expected. Because it was a dome, he expected very little usable floor space near the walls, because of the curvature, and that a pony could only stand up in the middle. But this was not the case. The floor was sunk down into the ground by over a yard, with walls that were almost straight up and down belowground—which in his mind made the structure almost egg shaped. Turning left, he made his way down the ramp and felt the rough concrete scraping against his hooves. There was a wet smell in here, with a hint of ozone, like the wet aftermath of a thunderstorm. The cloudcrete was textured like the surface of the inflatable form that had held up the middle. Though it wasn’t much, he could see the potential, and he liked what he saw. “It’ll be smoother when we’re done,” Humblewood remarked as he too,  entered. “A rail will be installed, a wood-burning stove, the windows, the doors. In my opinion, the windows are a smart piece of work. There’s a simple mechanism that allows vents above the windows to be opened or closed, and with the vents open, you get some scientific mumbo-jumbo that moves the heat out of here as it rises to the ceiling. Most of the kids around here could explain it in detail, but not me. Natural air conditioning, apparently, and drops the inside temperature by up to twenty degrees. Is there anything that science can’t do?” “I take it you did something else before doing this?” Standing at the bottom of the ramp, Sundance looked up at Humblewood. “Begging your pardon, Baron, but I can’t say much of what I used to do. What I can tell you is, I once coordinated and facilitated the movement of troops, supplies, and hardware into and out of hostile territory where we might have not been welcomed. Now, I sort of do the same… I coordinate and facilitate the movement of troops, supplies, and hardware, but now instead of sowing terror, our arrival brings cheers and tears of joy. I rather like this job a whole lot better, and for reasons I cannot begin to understand, the kids love me even though sometimes I’m a hardass. A bunch of inner-city hoodlums and hooligans. I bet I’m the first father-figure that most of them have ever had in their whole sorry lives, and I let my knowledge of that rule my every action.” Blinking, ears splayed, Sundance was not expecting such an outpouring from Humblewood. It made him think about his own position, which left him feeling self-conscious and self-aware. He thought of Amber Dawn and how she’d clung to him after she was rescued. Looking right into Humblewood’s eyes, Sundance nodded and hoped that he could silently convey what he was feeling, though that was a foolish hope. “It’s a real rush of power, let me tell you,” Humblewood continued. “Before, with but a word, I could wipe a whole city off of a map. I had the ways and means to erase it from existence. We erased assets… the very building blocks of civilisation. Putting it back is far more satisfying. Now, I give a command and a whole city is built. Dams are constructed. Simple factories. These kids, these recruits… they’re all starry-eyed and eager, and they will do anything I tell them to do. It’s healed a lot of old hurts, let me tell you.” “I’d imagine,” Sundance replied, attempting to be pleasant, though he lacked all understanding. The only thing that was easy to understand was that Humblewood was here for a reason; a career soldier trying to atone for a few regrets—or many, as the case might be. “The wood stove goes right here, by the landing in front of the door. Something about a thermal bank. There’s extra concrete in the ramp that the wood stove heats. We put a bunk bed just to the right of the landing, so a pony can climb into the upper bunk from up here. Efficient use of space, I’m told. Up to four beds can be placed, though six can be crammed into here if necessary. But that’s cramped. Two bunk beds leaves a bit of comfortable floor space and makes use of the tall interiour. Second option is we can build a split-level, and construct a wooden platform that adds a sort of loft. In my experience, foals love this option. The space beneath the loft is like a fort to them, and is perfect for beds, or storage, or whatever.” “That sounds intriguing.” Sundance tried to imagine the split-level loft, and couldn’t. The inside was tall enough for such a thing though, but the loft area would have to deal with a sloping wall. Still, might be nice. It’d be about two yards wide at center, and a half-circle in shape, he supposed. Not much space on either end, due to the nature of circles, but a fair amount of space in the middle, right about where the light from the windows would shine. After a bit of thought, he said to Humblewood, “Do both. An even split. The residents can sort out amongst themselves what they want and what appeals to them.” “One more thing, Baron.” Humblewood cleared his throat, almost coughing, and then continued, “We can put about twenty domes here in the box canyon. Sure, we could cram in a few more, but then everything would be a bit tight. Might start taking up space used for crops and what not. Plus, there’s planned expansion for other buildings. So the other twenty—” “Must go outside of the box canyon.” Sundance scowled so that the rough edges of his teeth scraped against his cheeks. “My advice is to have them hug the natural wall and follow the path that leads eastward to the orchard, Baron. We’ll space them out and it’ll be like a country lane. A good start to a future city. Future development can follow the same line, and with houses on both sides, you’ll have a nice street in the middle. But that’s the future, of course. For now, all twenty houses should hug the rise.” Taking a moment to consider Humblewood’s advice, Sundance found himself in agreement. It was sound advice, practical, and laid out the foundation for future growth. The box canyon couldn’t shelter them all, and sooner or later, they’d grow out past its sheltering embrace. There was the orchard too, and the barrows there. Life beyond the keep was necessary, he realised, as this was just the place where everypony retreated as the once great city fell. Now, it was time to reclaim. A seed slept through winter so that it could sprout come spring. The barony, a seed, had endured a long and terrible winter. It had diminished into near-nothingness. But a part of it, a mere seed of it, had survived—and now sprouted. Sundance watched as those young and old laboured together, united for a common cause, a shared goal. Seeing what he saw humbled him and left him in awe. The oldest and the most dilapidated of the old hovels were knocked down and new foundations laid. No one was sad to see them go, at least Sundance didn’t think so. Before the day was done, nine more domes would be in place. The very first dome was getting finished now, as he watched. Windows would soon be installed, the interiour underwent its transformation, and a cube of sod strips was ready to go. Earth was leveled as the foundations for the gatehouse took shape. It was rapid work and little Nuance was a surprisingly good coordinator. He wasn’t bossy, or mean, but rather, encouraging and kind. The colt knew just where to have materials stacked, what needed to go where, and what still needed to be procured. Stone was needed; a great deal of stone would be required to build the gatehouse, and this was currently being gathered as the foundations were laid out. A group of unicorns were using magic to bake blobs of clay, which were then shattered into tiny pieces and poured into the metal tank now getting finished over Corduroy’s infirmary. Sundance didn’t understand the science behind it, but the sand, gravel, and porous baked clay shards would somehow clean the water. All manner of clever solutions were deployed to make the water system work, and a massive telescopic swingarm would allow water from the waterfall to pour into the tank. When the tank was filled, the collapsible swingarm could be folded away. It was still highly advised that the water be boiled. As for Corduroy’s infirmary itself, it now had windows, a source of heat, and an addition in rapid construction out back. The aesthetics of the building could only be described as crazed ingenuity, with the metal water tank over the roof and the extension sprouting out of the back. A group of pegasus ponies were constructing a windmill of sorts that would be placed above the water tank. Sundance had no idea what it was for, or what it would do, but it appeared as though it would be tall enough to catch the strong gusts that blew down the mountains and over the box canyon. The first of the cloudcrete slabs was now raised and secured into place, one wall of four for the new communal kitchen. Sauerkraut Pie was beside herself and ran about in circles, because Sundance had told her that the kitchen was constructed for her. The elderly mare was acting half her age, or maybe a quarter, or quite possibly a tenth. She gamboled about, pronking, whinnying and wickering with each bounce. Sundance found the first wall quite fascinating, because it was sloped—terraced almost. Narrow at top, broad at the bottom, it had what could only be described as narrow shelf-steps that sloped downward at an angle. It was an odd construction, and Sundance had been told that when the building was completed, the angled walls would be covered in sod. The roof would be an arch, and that too, would be blanketed with sod. Everything was built for thermal efficiency, and to endure the harsh, unforgiving weather that the barony endured. The two long walls and the arched roof would create a continuous gentle slope on both sides, while the front and back of the building would have regular walls, walls with windows and doors. Something almost tent shaped, at least on the outside. Overall, the kitchen would be long, narrow, and efficient. Water would be supplied from the tank above Corduroy’s infirmary. Cob ovens would be constructed for the baking of food. Sundance had no idea what a cob oven was, but he was repeatedly assured that it was the best possible solution for the barony’s bakery. A covered breezeway would connect the communal kitchen to the dining hall, an addition that Sundance couldn’t wait to see. It wasn’t much, but it would shelter the cooks from the weather as food was brought from one place to another. With more ponies arriving, more mouths to feed, the cooks would be busier than ever, so doing something, anything, that made their lives a bit more pleasant was a good thing. “Sire, ya seem to have a guest approaching.” Sundance turned to look at the young mare that had spoken to him. She was cute, in her own way, with dimples and her mane was damp with sweat. His eyes followed every hard edge of her physique, and he could not help himself; he found himself attracted to this earth pony. Broad of shoulder, wide of back, with wide hips, her stocky frame was covered in bulging, rippling muscles that bunched beneath her smooth reddish hide. She had a sledgehammer for a cutie mark, which he found quite intriguing. Even more appealing was the fact that she was taller than him by a head, maybe more. “Like what ya see, Yer Grace?” He was about to say no, but his mouth betrayed him. “Yes.” “So does my fiancé.” The young mare let out a whooping laugh and offered a wink of consolation. “Aw, shucks, yer sweet. It’s not often I get a feller that appreciates my big, beautiful body. It’s flattering, it is. Feel free to look all ya want. But don’t look too long, ya gots to look after that guest I was told to tell ya about.” Just one of her legs was thicker than his neck. Perfect mares existed; but as with so many other perfect things, had exceptional rarity. “Thank you for informing me…” He paused, with no idea of what else to say, and spent a moment tongue tied. It wasn’t often that he found himself in this position, and was even rarer when he allowed himself to look. His mother had told him that it was rude to stare, but with this exquisite creature, he found that he couldn’t help himself. If his mother was here, he might get wing-slapped upside his head, but in this instance, it would be totally worth it. “Ain’t you a charming one,” the young mare said, her green eyes bright and merry. “I gots to go. See ya, handsome.” “Goodbye…” “It’s Applebutter. Private Applebutter. I gots me a foundation that gots to get laid.” With her final parting innuendo, she laughed, a boisterous bellowing laugh that made her sides heave.