Talking Heads

by Dave Bryant


Remain in light

For what seemed an eternity the three of us sat en tableau. Sunset struggled for composure. Pin Stripes seemed inclined to let her. I was at a loss. The staff whisked away the old and conjured the new. Dessert proved to be a plate for each of us bearing slices of winter pear and assorted cheeses, from mild to sharp, surrounding a small bowl of tree nuts. Another wine came along for the ride, though the apple juice wasn’t changed out.
Even after the waitmimes disappeared, it was most of a minute before Sunset could speak again. “Ma’am, please. Please let me stay. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life, even . . . even what I wanted when I first came here.” Her body and voice trembled, and her eyes glistened a little, but she managed to maintain a semblance of dignity and not to sniffle.
Pin Stripes leaned back as she eyed the young woman pleading, if not for her life, then at least for her lifestyle. When the undersecretary responded, her voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Ms. Shimmer. Sunset. It may be hard for you to believe, but once upon a time, long before Mister Cook here was born, I was your age and even younger. After so long, it’s gotten a bit hazy, but I still remember what it was like.”
Ignoring Sunset’s bewilderment, she continued after a pause with an air of reminiscence. “Among other things, I loved to read adventure stories—for children, for teens, for adults. I always was precocious. Some of my favorites were about someone from the humdrum modern world being transported somehow to the distant past, or the far future, or another planet, or a parallel world, and all their thrilling exploits. What I never imagined then was that someday, the opposite would happen, for real.” She nodded toward the expatriate from just such an exotic place, living now in a perfectly ordinary neighborhood in a, well, no longer perfectly ordinary city.
“Stories like that, bringing someone here instead of sending someone there, are a little more common now, from what my grandchildren tell me.” For the first time Pin Stripes cracked a full, if crooked, smile, clearly enjoying Sunset’s astonishment. “Yes, my dear, I have a husband and grown children and grandchildren, all of whom I love very much. Some of the younger ones are just about the same age as you and your friends, and even those three little reprobates.”
She held up a hand when Sunset opened her mouth on a protest. “I know, they came clean and apologized, and all’s well now. My point is, I understand what children and teens go through—what they want, what they need, and what the difference is. You’re right; I do know as much about you as I do about any of my grandchildren, thanks to Cook’s reports. Still, however good reports are, they’re no substitute for getting a firsthand impression. I needed to meet you in order to do my job, which is very important if I’m to help keep safe all those other children and their families—to confirm in my own mind you are who Cook says you are.”
The undersecretary came back in all her intimidating majesty. “Make no mistake, though, Ms. Shimmer. That job also requires me to make difficult decisions every day about national security, international relations, and bureaucratic infighting, and not all of them offer any pleasant choices. Everyone and everything has a value, and sometimes it comes down to placing people, real people, on a figurative balance scale. It’s no fun at all, but it has to be done. I will be frank and say you, too, have such a value, and so do your friends. If the time comes to balance that against other urgent imperatives, however unlikely that may be, I will do it, because that is what my oath requires.”
She shot me a look, which Sunset followed reluctantly. “Keep in mind, the same goes for Mister Cook. It has to, if he is going to be the honorable man you’ve befriended. I’m sure he’ll do everything he legitimately can to safeguard the lot of you, but not a jot more, because he swore an oath too. That’s why we are commissioned officers, not just employees, of the government.” I knew my face was tight, but I had to nod in corroboration.
The hard expression melted away and the grandmother returned. “All that said, I also can tell you I’m convinced you’ve become a fine, upstanding young woman, and that you’re doing your best to repair the damages you’ve done, and others besides. And don’t forget, you are a resident, so my duty extends to you as much as it does to any other person living in this nation. Yes, it’s complicated by the fact you’re a foreign national, but you also are a teenage girl trying to make her way in life, with all sorts of extra burdens most others don’t have to deal with.”
Sunset frankly looked poleaxed, and took a while to get her vocal apparatus restarted. “You—you never were going to send me back, then?”
“It was a possibility,” Pin Stripes allowed. “But a remote one. Your logic was sound. Your conclusion was in error. Understandable—Mister Cook mentioned several times how worried you were about being allowed to stay—but be honest: you let that get in the way, didn’t you? Jumped to conclusions, exaggerated the likelihood?”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Sunset was shamefaced. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Cook warned me about being paranoid.”
“Don’t apologize.” Pin Stripes waved it away. “Anyone who lives with that kind of day-to-day pressure is bound to be affected by it. You’ve done a good job of keeping up your grades and juggling everything else at the same time. You’re allowed not to be perfect.”
“Th-thank you—”
“Don’t thank me either.” Pin Stripes took up a wedge of cheese and a slice of pear. “Same advice anyone with an ounce of sense would give you. Now, eat your dessert, young lady.”
Bemused, Sunset did as she was bade. I had a feeling it was pure reflex, following the demands of an adult in authority; I could imagine Princess Celestia giving her much the same order in much the same tone. I followed suit, and we munched away for a little while, until she spoke up again in a small voice. “Cook, when you first told me about this, I could see you didn’t like it any more’n I did. Why, if you knew I, uh, wasn’t going to be sent away?”
“Because I knew you were going to be put through the wringer,” I told her baldly, not even glancing at Pin Stripes—who didn’t raise an objection in any case. “It’s true I always have to keep in mind I’m a foreign service officer and a representative of my country, but . . .” I sighed. “. . . I do think of you as, um, something like a niece or a little sister.” I don’t blush easily, but I did then. I heard what sounded suspiciouly like a snort from the superior I determinedly avoided looking at.
Sunset blushed too and looked down. “Oh. That explains a lot, yeah. Okay.” Her head bounced up again. “What I mean is, that’s okay, Cook. I think we all see you as kind of an uncle. We’re gonna miss you when you get reassigned.” She glanced past me at the person who would be doing the reassigning. “He is gonna get reassigned someday, right?”
“Someday.” The voice sounded a touch regretful. “Policy. Leave someone in a post too long, he starts getting too attached to it and the folks he’s dealing with. Called ‘clientitis’; real problem for diplomats. Might be able to stretch it a little in this case, but he’ll have to move on before you graduate university. I’m sorry. Allowed to keep in touch, though.”
“Oh. Good.” Sunset’s expression mingled sadness and relief.
“Anything else?” Pin Stripes asked. “Golden opportunity; don’t let it go to waste.”
“Uh—only one other thing I can think of right now, and I’m not sure anyone can answer it,” Sunset answered after a moment of furious thought. “The portal’s at CHS, but after we graduate, we won’t be CHS students any more.”
“Sure we can figure out something.” Pin Stripes sounded confident. “But you’re right, something to think about, and we have been. Anyway, doubt the principals would have a problem with you visiting.”
“They care about you too, Sunset,” I pointed out. “Especially now that they know for sure you’re on your own here. The chance to see you once in a while and make sure you’re doing all right will ease their minds. In the longer term, I don’t know—but to be honest, that’s above my pay grade anyway.”
“Not mine.” Pin Stripes let a little more concern into her tone than she might have when the evening started. “Can say, though, we’re keeping an eye on Canterlot High. Good school, just as you said. And with the magic—well, analysts think we may get more applicants than average from CHS grads, few years from now.”
That was news to me, and very obviously to Sunset as well; she nearly inhaled her bite of pear. “What?” she demanded before I could.
“Heard right. ‘Friendship magic’ sounds a bit silly, but does seem to work—along with the good examples of you and your friends. Cliques still exist over there, but the kids seem a lot more willing than most to talk to, say, nerd crowd for help with a balky equalizer, or trade skills where they cross interests, like a rally or protest.”
“That . . . really?” Suddenly Sunset seemed much younger than her actual age; I could see her turning such a look of appeal on either Celestia for reassurance. “Because of us?”
“And Her Highness.” Pin Stripes didn’t exactly shrug as she assembled another pairing of pear and cheese, but she didn’t need to.
That’s why Twilight bothered to go through all the motions when she first showed up,” I observed out loud for Sunset’s benefit. “Instead of grabbing the tiara and jumping back through the portal—which wouldn’t have let her help you, come to think of it, and could’ve ended up in a big back-and-forth mess until the portal closed again.”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “I dunno, Cook. That seems awfully . . . clever? Devious? I mean, I love her to pieces, but she’s pretty straightforward, and when she tries not to be, she can get tangled up in her own plans. Sci-Twi does the same thing.”
“She kind of did, didn’t she? You did your best to trip her up, after all, right?” I smiled when her nose scrunched up. “And she had a really tough time with the Dazzlings, overthinking everything. But she can’t help but try to help, and now, neither can you. That’s part of the friendship magic too, isn’t it? That urge to reach out, to connect, to lend a hand.”


By the time we finished Sunset seemed more relaxed than she’d been since I’d picked her up what seemed like a lifetime ago. She looked around curiously and asked, “Um—how does this work? The . . . bill and stuff, I mean.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. She didn’t seem convinced, so I elaborated, “That’s what expense accounts are for, and this definitely qualifies. You are the guest here.”
She looked to Pin Stripes, brow furrowed, but the latter nodded confirmation, so she sat back again. “I guess I couldn’t afford a place like this anyway, could I?”
“Probably not,” the hostess agreed. “But as Mister Cook said, you are the guest. May not have another chance like this for a while. Business is done. Care to stay for coffee and a chat? Just a chat, a grandmother, an uncle, and you.”