//------------------------------// // Prologue: The Picture // Story: Iota Force Issue #3: The Treachery of Images // by The Iguana Man //------------------------------// “Oh my gosh, Oh my Gosh, Oh my Gosh, Spike, I'm so excited!” Spike rolled his eyes. “Geez, Twilight, are you? I'd have never guessed from you jumping about and squealing like that.” Twilight turned her head towards Spike, not seeming to entirely notice his exasperation, or even that he had spoken at all. “This is going to be so great – I've read every book about it and the whole subject and I've talked to anyone who might know anything about it. I even talked to Pinkie's sister about it.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Was surprised by how much I learned. Probably shouldn't have been surprised, but I was.” After thinking about it a moment longer, she shrugged, whirling around. “But never mind that – the point is that I am so ready for this!” “Thmt's Grmmt, Tmlmgt.” Spike replied through the wing that had just been thrust into his face. He pulled it off and pushed it back into its place against her side. “But you might want to calm down a little, you're liable to break something with one of those things.” Fortunately, this seemed to bring Twilight out of her excited trance enough for her to give an apologetic smile. Though she had gotten fairly used to her wings since she'd acquired them, they still had a tendency to do what they wanted when she got flustered and she was a little self-conscious about that. Spike gave her a gentle smile, feeling a little bad about having brought it up. “Besides, it's not gonna get here until tomorrow. Till then, just relax and...” Before Spike could realize his error, Twilight spun around again and thrust her face right up against his, their eyes centimetres apart. “Relax? How can I relax?” She asked, her frenzied enthusiasm having returned in full force. “This is one of the most influential scientific finds in the past five years. It's already altered our understanding of aetheric and optic refraction and amplification. And I. Get. To. STUDY IT!” She let out a squeal as she backed off a couple of steps, presumably so she didn't step on Spike's toes as she trotted in place. “Yeah, I know, but you'll have almost a week to...” “And I need to make sure everything's ready!” She interrupted, not breaking flow. Nodding to herself, she straightened up and assumed an authoritative tone. “Spike, did you check the calibration on the X-ray fluorescence analyser?” Spike sighed. “Yes.” “Did you assemble the new spectrophotometry array?” “You mean again? After you asked me three hours ago and I said yes? Because no, I didn't do that.” “Did y-” Twilight paused mid-word, taking a second to parse what Spike had just said. After a moment's thought about it, she decided he meant yes. “Did you order a new motor for the Cyclic Aetherotron?” Spike furrowed his brow, thinking back. “Was that the thing we got last month or the one before that?” Twilight gaped at Spike’s ignorance. “We’ve had it for three months, Spike. You know, the Cyclic…” Huffing, Twilight frowned. “The really fast spinny thing?” She said, barely concealing her disgust at the terminology. “Ah!” Spike nodded. “The really fast spinny thing motor – ordered, collected, installed. Twi,” He said, holding up a claw to stop her listing anything else, “everything's all ready. And it's not getting any more ready from you going crazy.” Twilight opened her mouth to respond before closing it abruptly. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she nodded. “I guess you're right.” Opening her eyes, she smiled at her little dragon assistant. “Thanks, Spike. I don't know what I'd do without you.” She turned away and trotted over to her desk, thankfully missing him mutter: “If only you knew how often I'd thought about that.” Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, Spike decided that, after how much she'd run him ragged over the past couple of days, he was probably entitled to a little mischief. He didn’t mind the work that much, but he was happy for the excuse to mess with her. “Although,” he said, drawing out the word as he felt Twilight's eyes on him again, “there is one thing you could've forgotten.” “What?!” She shrieked, causing Spike to put his hands over his ear-spines. “What is it, what is it?” She turned her head this way and that, desperately searching for whatever had escaped her scrutiny. “Is it something about the experiment plan? Is it the clearance I need? Is it...?” “Lunch with Rarity and Fluttershy. And your spa appointment after that.” He could almost hear Twilight freeze briefly and then relax as he looked to the clock on the wall. “In about half an hour. Should give you time for a quick shower before you go.” He turned to see Twilight giving him an unamused look “Spike! That was... wait, a shower?” Her expression shifted to confusion. “Why would I take a shower an hour before the spa?” Spike rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from her. “Well, no offence, Twi, but you've been working pretty hard since this thing started and you've gotten a bit... sweaty.” He finished, trying to stay diplomatic. Twilight turned and sniffed beneath a wing, her eyes widening. “Ooh. Yeeeah.” She looked around the room, her face apprehensive. “You know, I'm sure Rarity and Fluttershy wouldn't mind if I took a rain check on things.” She nodded to herself and started trotting towards the door and away from the shower. “Just for a week or so, leave it till this is all over. Yeah, I'll just go and tell them and I'm sure they...” She trailed off as she realized that she wasn't moving. Looking behind her, she saw Spike holding her tail in one hand, her hooves sliding ineffectually against the crystal floor. For a little guy, he was surprisingly strong. Though for a dragon, it was about normal. “Twilight!” Spike said, his voice as hard as the sternest teacher, successfully subduing the pony four times his size. “This is a very big project and you're going to be very busy over the next few days. This is one of the last big times you'll have with your friends for a while.” “Don't be silly, Spike – they're my friends, they won’t mind. It's not like they'll completely move on and forget about me just because I'm incommunicado for a few days.” She rolled her eyes, smirking at the thought. “That'd be ridiculous.” “They won't mind,” Spike said simply. “But you will.” “I...” Twilight pouted for a moment in contemplation before sighing, her shoulders sagging. “You're right, Spike.” She put a hoof on his lips just as he was opening them. “And if you say “as usual” or anything like that, you're grounded.” The two shared a chuckle as Twilight trotted in the direction of the shower. Before she reached the door, however, a loud thump echoed through the castle, shaking the floor and making the walls ring with a note of exactly F sharp. An instant later, there was a high-pitched squealing sound, followed by a more muffled thump and a quiet moan. “Ah,” said Twilight, “mail's here.” Without another word, she trotted to the door, pausing only to get a first aid kit from the wall. As she trotted out, Spike went to get a broom from the cupboard – Twilight's little squee-session had kicked up a lot of dust. As he got the broom out, he considered how automatically Twilight had gone to get the mail rather than asking him. She knew not to, of course. It was a curious quirk of his, he had to admit, but despite all the many, many, many things he did for Twilight to help her out and keep her alive, healthy and sane, he drew the line at getting the mail or the paper for her. She didn't mind too much, but it was odd. Probably had something to do with him having been a dog for a few days. He'd just started sweeping when he heard Twilight's voice echo through the castle. “Er, Spike? Could you, um... Could you come out here for a moment, please?” Perturbed by her tone, Spike did as he was asked. He put the broom carefully down, opened the door and jogged down the corridors of the castle towards Twilight, who was standing just inside the front door. “Spike,” she said, not looking at him and pointing a hoof at the ground to the side of the doorway, “I realize that I probably already know the answer to this question but... did you do that?” Frowning at Twilight, though more out of puzzlement than irritation, Spike came up and looked at what she was pointing at. His frown and confusion deepened. “No. Wasn't me. Did you do it?” Blinking as he realized how silly that question sounded, Spike quickly clarified. “I mean, by accident, some sort of misfired spell or magic... thing?” “No, there's no spell I know that'd do anything like that. Besides, I think I'd have noticed if I did.” “I guess so.” In front of the castle were lines, painted in a bright white directly onto the grass beside the path in front of the castle, like the lines on a Buckball field. The largest lines, each a good ten meters long, formed a very distinct shape – a pentagram. The central space of the pentagram looked blank, except for the slightly-dizzier-than-normal pegasus lying on top of it who, come to think of it, had a reason to have been distracted mid-flight this time. However, each of the five points contained a number of smaller and more complex lines. From their low angle, neither Twilight nor Spike could tell if they formed any sort of picture, but they might well have done. They were meticulously painted and looked durable enough that it seemed they wouldn’t be disrupted by being stepped or fallen on but looked light enough that they could be washed off by enough water. “Well,” Twilight concluded after a minute or so pondering the new addition, “Either we've got the most esoteric graffiti artist ever on our hooves or...” she paused, thinking about what else it could mean before shrugging, “something really weird is going on.” She sighed. “Guess I'm cancelling that lunch after a-” “No, Twi,” Spike interrupted, “you're not. I think I might have an idea who’s responsible. And if I'm right, I know just the ponies to ask.” *** Icy Flight trotted along, whistling to herself. She was very good at whistling, able to control her tone and volume to a surprising degree and having a natural sense for how the air flowed and sounded out of her pursed lips. A number of times, people had overheard her whistling and been surprised when they saw her, having assumed it had come from an actual instrument. Icy wondered if it would be possible to make a career out of whistling. Maybe you could gather together a whole choir of ponies with different ranges and have them whistle together in concerts. You'd need a conductor, of course... she assumed – she had no idea what a conductor did other than stand there and wave a stick, but she'd heard lots of musicians needed one. She shook her head, starting a new tune. It wouldn't work for her anyway – you'd probably need a cutie mark in music to join that kind of thing. Or at least in whistling. Although, she pondered, what would a cutie mark like that look like? A music note would be too vague, so maybe one next to a mouth with whistling lips? No, that'd just look like someone was continually kissing your haunch and that'd just be icky. Maybe a referee's whistle shaped like a music note. She briefly considered suggesting the idea to Scootaloo and her friends, but quickly dismissed the notion. Scootaloo would probably say it “wasn't awesome enough”. Besides, with those fillies' reputation, they'd probably end up shattering every window in Ponyville. Or at least walk into a bunch of things because they were distracted trying to whistle. Not that that would ever happen to Icy. Two seconds after having that thought, Icy picked herself up off the ground and glared back at the rock she'd tripped over. Getting distracted because she was thinking about whistling, that was still a possibility. Shaking her head, she resumed trotting and whistling and, within five seconds, she barely remembered the impact. She looked up above the rooftops to make sure she was still going in the right direction. Fortunately, having her destination be the largest and most distinctive building in the whole town made the task fairly simple. There's the castle. She thought. A small thrill still went through her as she thought about going there, despite having been before. And not just as a tourist or something, but as a full-on guest. However, the excitement had diminished somewhat as the castle went, in her mind, from The Super Sparkly Awesome Princess Castletm to My friend's house. Her wings fluttered in anticipation. A new comic miniseries was coming out soon from one of her favourite writers, Gale Sign, and she'd initially been disappointed that it was about Doctor Curio. Not that she disliked the character, of course – he suffered a bit from the Power Ponies problem of “oh, he can do magic, big whoop” but he had a cool look at least. The problem was that she didn't really know that much about the character and was worried she'd get lost if she picked up the series. However, when she'd mentioned it to Spike in passing, he'd very kindly offered to lend her some old issues of the original series to look through and see if she wanted to read the new series. Well, eventually he offered. Before that, they had a brief discussion about who would win in a fight between Doctor Curio and Doctor Fortune. The results, as usual, had been quieter than their first... conversation but no more conclusive. Of course, that had all been a few days ago and Spike had said he'd be pretty busy from tomorrow onwards. And so, being as punctual as she ever was, she was going over on the last day she could. Not that it would have been that much of a problem to wait a week or so. Things had been rather quiet in the town for a while, at least from the perspective of the general craziness that tended to pass through. There'd been no monsters or baddies, either child or adult, to worry about, but the town was still reasonably busy – they were just entering the second half of November, which meant that preparations for winter were getting into full swing. However, that was all adult business, nothing really for her to worry about – her only concern about the snow was hoping it'd get there quicker. As she finished her song, ending on a long, trilling note, she heard a familiar voice echo around the corner. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” Scootaloo's voice sounded surprised and exasperated. Icy's note trailed off as she picked up her pace a little. Either the crusaders tried base jumping again or... She turned the corner and looked, realizing immediately that it was definitely “or…”. In the square, among several other curious onlookers, were Scootaloo and Dinky. Dinky was sitting, looking at the huge lines painted onto the dirt, her hoof on her chin, while Scootaloo was pacing back and forth, her wings intermittently buzzing with agitation. “He has to pull this stuff now?” Scootaloo seethed as Icy trotted up to the two. “I mean, the little butthead's a pain in the...” she paused, looking around at the various adults within earshot, “neck anyway, but now he's gotta come around when 'Lula and Truff are gone?” “Maybe that's why.” Dinky offered quietly. Icy frowned. It was true that the team was a little short-staffed at the moment, though it hadn’t mattered recently. After the incident on Nightmare Night, Twist's parents had quickly arranged a vacation to help her recover and Truffle had gone with to help her. The two were on the Mane Coast and, from the postcard Icy had received, were having a great time. Mind you, that was each for different reasons – Twist was enjoying the peace and the scenery and Truffle was enjoying the food. Meanwhile, Alula's mother had been called away to some unnamed town on the other side of Equestria and Alula had gone with her. Apparently something big had gone down there a few weeks ago involving the Princess and her friends, so a number of psychiatrists had been needed to help the people there recover. And not just psychiatrists either, a few detectives and investigators had gone there as well – Icy only really knew what she did because she'd heard that her Uncle (technically first cousin once removed, but he was too fun not to be an uncle), Night Flight, had been asked to go and he was a detective. Privately, Icy wondered if Alula had gone with in that capacity as well. Cheerilee had been very understanding, of course. All three had been set homework and reading to do, but none of them minded – Twist was already very studious, Truffle took it in stride and Alula probably knew most of it anyway. That filly was unnervingly intelligent. So, yes, they were two members down, but Icy didn't see why that mattered. After all... “Icy!” Icy jumped as Scootaloo barked in her ear. She shook her head, both to get herself out of her reverie and the ringing out of her ears. “Sorry,” she muttered, still a little dazed, “got a bit distracted, what did you say?” Scootaloo rolled her eyes a little ay Icy's daydreaming. “Just wanted to know what you thought of this.” Icy turned to where Scootaloo was pointing, looking over the bizarre street art. She frowned, unsure the orange filly was getting at. “Well, it's a... bunch of lines.” She paused, hoping Scootaloo would comment. When she didn't, Icy continued. “Probably make a picture or something but I can't see from this angle.” She paused again, until the continued silence started to annoy her a bit. “Sorry, what am I supposed to say?” Scootaloo opened her mouth to respond before Dinky piped up. “Er, Scootaloo, she's only been in town for a month and a bit, remember?” Realization dawned on Scootaloo's face as she stamped a hoof on the ground lightly. “Oh, right... sorry.” “That's fine,” Icy smiled, “just... what's going on?” “Well, we're not sure yet,” Dinky said, looking over the lines, “but it looks like it could be someone we've met before.” “Really?” Icy asked. She'd assumed that Iota Force might have a few enemies, but hadn't really thought to ask about them. “Sure. Come on,” Scootaloo said, trotting over to the tree her scooter was resting on, “we'll tell you once we meet up with the others.” “Oh, could you hold on a sec,” Icy asked, causing Scootaloo to stop but not turn around, “does this mean we're going to be... busy again?” “Probably.” Scootaloo said with a hint of impatience, her back still to Icy. “In that case, I just need to talk to Spike for a moment, put a rain check on something.” Scootaloo huffed a little, but Dinky trotted up and put a hoof on her shoulder, Scootaloo not being a big hugger. “That's okay, we'll just tell the others about this while you do that.” She said, pulling her badge out of her saddlebags. As she trotted towards the castle, Icy heard Scootaloo call after her. “And try not to get too hung up on nerd stuff when you talk to him.” Icy gave an affirmative hoof wave before muttering: “No promises.” *** The trip over to Pip's house had been relatively silent, devoid of even Scootaloo's usual complaining about how the others were slowing her down. In fact, she seemed to be seething a little, although, from what Icy could tell, it wasn't anger at her. She wasn't sure what the anger was directed at, though. They'd made one stop on the way – at the post office. Apparently they had to check their P.O. Box and, it being a Sunday, they'd had to get Dinky's mother to unlock it for them. Of course, until that moment, Icy didn't know that that was a thing. The P.O. Box, that was, not Dinky's mother. You couldn't know Dinky for long without hearing wonderful things about her mother. As the others had suspected, there was indeed something for the team there. Which confused Dinky's mom, since it apparently hadn't been there at closing time the previous night. Which in turn meant that someone would have had to break into the post office to put it there. Which in turn did not surprise Dinky or Scootaloo which in turn did surprise Icy. There were lots of turns in this case, apparently. When they got to Pipsqueak's house, Lance and Archer were already there, sitting on the sofa. Lance was sitting up, staring into space as if in intense thought while Archer was lying upside down, her head down on the floor, her hind legs resting on the back and her front hooves drumming gently on the edge of the seat. She looked up as the others entered, smiling a little but not moving her body. “Hey, guys! Heard we got a picture puzzle on our hands.” “Yep,” Scootaloo groused, “perfect timing, am I right?” Icy raised an eyebrow, still no more informed on the matter. “Picture puzzle?” “Yep, that's kind of his thing.” Pip said, walking into the basement room behind them. After letting them in, he'd told them to go down and that he needed to get something from upstairs. Apparently, that thing was a thin, green file folder. “Who?” Icy asked, following Pip as he trotted towards his desk. She was beginning to get a little annoyed at this point. Fortunately, this time, an answer came. Pip pulled a photograph out of the folder and tossed it down onto the desk. “This little blighter. Calls himself Magic Eye.” Icy put her front hooves onto the desk and looked down at the photograph. It showed a young colt, probably no older than her. He had a orange coat and a blonde mane, though most of both were covered up. He was wearing what looked like some sort of business suit, though more colourful than most – a blue jacket and waistcoat, a white shirt and a blue tie. He even wore trousers, in the same blue as the jacket, both giving him an unusual look and covering up his cutie mark. Assuming he even had one – at that age, he may very well not have. On his head was a hat in the same blue – round, with completely vertical sides and a very short brim. Icy vaguely remembered it was called a “Porkie Pie” hat – odd name, she thought, but apparently it was named after some politician or something. His eyes were covered by a simple domino mask. The insides of the eyepieces, meanwhile, looked like blank white spaces. It did a surprisingly good job of altering his face and a surprisingly poor job of hiding his expression. One eyepiece was as widened as his eye would have been as he raised one eyebrow. His mouth was pulled into a confident smirk. The only other thing of note about him was a brooch he wore on his hat brim – a question mark with a stylized eye inside the loop. Overall, he looked like a very weird little colt, but Icy wasn't sure he looked particularly dangerous. “Magic Eye...” She repeated, pondering a moment. “Does he have any special powers?” “I don't think so.” Dinky said, looking at the photo as well – presumably she already knew him, but she might have been re-familiarizing herself. “We haven't seen anything like that.” Icy nodded, thinking through the other possibilities. “Does he have special machines or gimmicks.” Looking over, Icy saw Lance tilt his head to the side in thought, before waving his hoof from side to side in a “kind of” gesture. “He's pretty good with gadgets, far as we can tell.” Archer replied, still upside-down. “But nothing he's always got. Don't even know if he makes 'em or buys 'em. From what we've seen, he could afford 'em.” Icy frowned, a little puzzled. “So, he's like a mastermind-type bad guy? You know, like Lethal Lexicon – no special stuff, just really smart and good at planning?” For some reason, this elicited a snort from Scootaloo before Archer responded. “Pretty much, yeah. Doesn't aim that high, though. Usually just steals stuff.” Icy looked at the picture again. From what she could see, he certainly seemed to carry himself with the confidence of that type of villain. “So, you think he made that... big picture thing in front of the castle?” She paused as the others nodded. “Why?” “Like I said, that's his thing.” Pip replied, shrugging. “He likes to give you puzzles and clues to what he's gonna rob before he does it, see if people can figure it out in time to stop him.” Icy blinked in confusion. “He tells you where he's going to attack before he attacks it? Why?” She knew she was starting to sound a touch repetitive at this point, but she had to ask again. At this, everyone looked a little unsure. “Far as we can tell, he enjoys it.” Archer said, finally righting herself on the sofa. “It's a game to him, see if he can outsmart us.” “And he likes to rub our snouts in it we don't figure out his horseapples.” Scootaloo growled. “Scootaloo!” Dinky admonished her language quietly. “Sorry.” Scootaloo mumbled, clearly lying. Icy barely noticed, too busy thinking about what she'd learned. “So, he steals things, right? Well, I mean, doesn't that mean we can figure out where he's probably going without clues. I mean, this isn't a big town, there can't be that much to steal.” Her eyes widened as she realized how insulting that sounded. “Um, no offense.” “None taken,” Archer replied, as if she ever took offense at anything, “And you'd think so, wouldn't you? But last time we met, he robbed Sweet Apple Acres.” Icy opened her mouth, raised a hoof, paused for a few seconds, closed her mouth, put her hoof down, tilted her head to the side, raised her hoof, opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and then finally answered. “...of what?” “Far as we can tell? Apples.” “Right.” Icy replied hesitantly. “He stole... apples.” That was... she didn't know what that was. Admittedly, after seeing Applejack's reaction to scrumpers, it was obvious apples were important to some ponies, but to a thief? “Is there a big black market for apples?” She imagined a scene of back-alley greengrocers, opening their coats to reveal rows of stolen bananas and pears. A part of her mind giggled at the image while the rest of it still tried to see the reasoning. “No, he says it's not about the money – he just wanted to see if we could figure out he was going there.” Pipsqueak said, his face flat and unimpressed by the idea. “So... why is he a problem?” Icy asked. At this, Pip's eyes widened a little, allowing a small trace of seriousness onto his face. “Because the next night he went for the Ponyville bank and nearly got away with two hundred thousand bits.” Icy's eyes widened as well, this time in surprise. She wasn't the best at maths or economics, admittedly, but she knew that was a lot of money. But he did say “nearly. Icy realized, her worry fading slightly. “But you caught him, right?” The sudden uncomfortable silence caught Icy completely off guard. She looked around to see most of the others looking a little embarrassed. Except Scootaloo, who just looked even more annoyed. “We stopped him.” Dinky said after a few seconds. “We got the money back.” “You didn't catch him?” “No one's caught him, yet.” Archer replied. If one looked at her face incredibly closely, maybe with a microscope, one might just about see the beginnings of a frown on her face. “We can stop him most of the time, but trying to catch him – he's always able to figure out some way to escape.” “Yeah,” Scootaloo added, “little pri... little jerk's slipperier than an eel.” She scowled at the picture. “Just about as likable too.” A little disturbed at Scootaloo's irritation, Icy turned her attention to the envelope they'd retrieved. “So, if the picture’s the clue, what's in the envelope?” “The picture's one clue, but since that probably wouldn’t be enough, this’ll be another.” Dinky clarified, opening the envelope. She pulled out a photo of the street lines taken from above and a parchment, the latter of which she gave to Icy. Icy took the note and started to read out loud: Dear Iota Force, I have a puzzle for you. You've no doubt noticed my little doodle – I did put it in the middle of town beneath the biggest building around for that precise purpose after all. As you have no doubt surmised, this is a picture portion of my little challenge. Each picture is a different clue to a different crime and, once you complete the picture, you'll see my grand finale. However, while I hope that my tableau will last until after I'm finished in this town, and certainly should if did my homework right, I know that some ponies may be less than civic-minded and erase it. Someone should really talk to them about that – one should never stifle a young colt's creativity, you know. It might disrupt my emotional development. We wouldn't want me to grow up into some menace to society, now would we? As such, I have taken the liberty of providing a photo of my work, both for use and posterity. Now, I'm sure you're impatient for my first linguistic clue. Well, ask and ye shall receive. In fact, don't ask and ye shall still receive. Aren't I generous? “A cavalry line without vanguard or rear, Staked through the heart with an unheaded spear, We gallop along, never touching the floor, To reach where we started and ride on once more.” Hopefully, I shall see you Monday night. Yours, Magic Eye. Icy blinked as she finished, looking down at the photo, then back to the letter. “What a strange pony!” At this, Scootaloo finally smirked a little and put a hoof on Icy's shoulder. “Filly, you got no idea!”