***
“The air of the jungle was so thick that a sword could run through it and make pastries from it. My crew were suffering from some strange disease that I theorized came from this new world I had discovered. Unlike the homeland where the mountains reached high and the pastures green, this world was almost entirely a jungle that never ended.
Daring Do was sitting on a bench along with a large throng of griffons and ponies and was attentively listening to the tour guide read a passage from Pytheas’ memoirs. They sat in the shadow of the Pytheas Memorial, a fifty meter tall copper statue of the griffon, facing westwards in his armor, with a map in one hand and a sword in its scabbard.
“As I cut through the thick foliage with my sword, I began to wonder, why was I here? Why was I walking all over someone else’s ground for Gryphonia? I was a griffon that had sailed around the world once already, and from my humblest start as a navigator in the Navy, I had always wondered what lie past the horizon. I thought on the question for many years, as Angelos would write his maps, as Heron would build his contraptions and as the rest of the crew would follow me into the deepest jungles and up the highest mountains. Many in my position would give some rather inspiring reason, “I felt it was our destiny,” or “It was the duty of griffons to go west.” My reasoning on why, when I was younger and before I set out on my first voyage with a simple crew of forty and before the days of the Ultima Thule, when I simply decided to go west and not stop, was mostly because I felt like it. Because there was a horizon, birds disappear into the horizon all the time. I figured, since the horizon was there, there had to be something past it. And there was, an entire new world.”
The tour guide closed the thick tome. The crowd began dispersing, some to admire the memorial up close, others going where they needed to. Daring dropped her jaw in awe of the amazingly gigantic statue. It looked just as impressive on the airship ride into Gryphus. Regardless however, Daring had to continue on. She flexed her wings, and took off for mainland Gryphus.
The weather forecast for Gryphus called for light cloudy skies in the afternoon, leaving just enough space for the blindingly bright sun to shine on the industrial port of Gryphus.
If the sun could penetrate the immense clouds of smog.
Gryphus’ skyline was comprised of skyscrapers and giant chimney stacks that gave off black clouds of whatever’s burning at the time. As an industrial port city, it found itself being swamped in terms of immigrants and goods from overseas. Daring recalled the cleaner and more refined Manehattten, but the buildings and shops along the gritty paved street were more grungy and dirtier. The populace wasn’t much of a contrast either, griffons and ponies were moving about in huge crowds going in all kinds of directions, with the occasional person lying on the curb with no place to go. What really caught Daring’s eye were the massive columns of automobiles. There were hundreds of Firearm Industries Model As Automobiles as far as the eye can see.
I’m not here to sight-see, Daring thought. As much as she did want to go sight-seeing, there was an important task at hand. I have to find this particular store. She pulled out Fidelis’ book and examined the particular drawing. A storefront that sells steam engines that’s going out of business. She examined the architecture of it closer. Daring found herself admiring Fidelis’ steady hand, the drawing was immensely detailed right down to the specks on the wall and the dust on the signs. Still, it was just one storefront and this was an entire city; some help was going to be required.
Daring turned to the nearest griffon as he walked past. “Excuse me, sir!” The griffon turned back, tipping his hat to Daring. “Could you help me find this store?” The pegasus held the drawing up to him. He tipped his hat up high, examining it closely with his amber eyes.
“Ah, I’ve seen this store before, I walk right by it everyday. One particular hobo there I always buy meals for.” The griffon nodded, pointing past Daring and down the street, “It’s over on Clockwork Square, very distinct actually.”
Daring grinned, placing the book back into her saddlebag, “Thank you! How do I get there?”
“Ah, it’s real easy, basically you head down this street, yeah? Then you take a left, head up to Eleventh Street, past Litany Avenue, then go down and bear right, gonna come up to a roundabout, but keep going straight, don’t turn, then you wanna head past the Third and cross over onto Eighth and Thirteenth, Fourteenth comes before Thirteenth so don’t get confused, afterwards you gonna come up to two intersections, one parallel and one perpendicular, go down the parallel about two-hundred meters then take a right then you’re on Nautilus Square, not Clockwork, Nautilus, you head down to Nineteenth, there’s some hooligan northerners there so watch out, and then you’re gonna come down to Seventeenth and head upwards of a quarter of a kilometer down Eighteenth. Solve for X.”
Daring shifted her eyes, trying to make sense of everything he just said. “I-uh-buh-ah... what?” The griffon burst into laughter at that.
“Ahahaha! Oh, I’m kidding, you’re a pegasus, you can just fly there. There’s a large clock tower in the center, can’t miss it. Good luck!” With that, the griffon waved goodbye to Daring and continued on his way, still quietly chuckling to himself. Daring simply stood there, dumbfounded.
“Solve for X?” she said to no one in particular. She sighed and simply flew off.
***
As the Griffon said, Clockwork Square did indeed have an impressively sized clocktower in the center. The Square itself was rather spacious, with a park around the clocktower and surrounding the park, the streets. All Daring had to do now was find that particular store. She instantly recognized it, having no need to pull out the book as the Steam Engines sign was proof enough. She walked up past a motorcycle —a rusty looking Tiger 100— and over a griffon hobo in the curb, but not before tossing a couple of bits his way. She looked in through the window and found a counter manned by a rather bored looking griffon. Around him were shelves, all empty. The place really was going out of business. She stepped inside, a ringing bell alerting the griffon.
He looked up at Daring, forcing a smile on his face. “Ah, welcome, can we interest you in any steam engines? Or... steam accessories?”
Daring shook her head, then began walking around the store. “Uh, just here to look.” The shopkeep nodded, leaning onto the counter with a deep sigh. Seems like a regular store, Daring thought. If Daring remembered anything from her International Studies class with Professor Storm Talon, it was that griffons were a bit straightforward. She walked up to the counter and asked, “Do you know Fidelis?”
The shopkeep nodded. “Sure I do, he’s an agent with the OSS. Lieutenant Fidelis Razorwind.”
Ah, he must be well known. Notorious even. Daring raised an eyebrow. Or maybe they’re just that horrible at keeping secrets. “Uh... okay, so. Is this like, the OSS’s secret headquarters and is there like some kinda secret entrance that leads into it?”
“Yep.”
“... Seriously?”
“Seriously! I mean, there ain’t a law saying I should keep my mouth shut about it.” The shopkeep nodded to the wall next to him. “This sure is a secret entrance for the Office of Strategic Services, A.K.A. the Office of Dishonorable Warfare.”
“So can I get in?”
The shopkeep shook his head. “Nope, need a password.” Of course, they’re a spy agency.
Daring frowned. “Well, I know Fidelis, I’ve got some important information for whoever is in charge around here.”
The shopkeep shrugged. “You still need a password.” Daring tapped her head on the counter lightly, then walked towards the shelves. What could the password be? She pulled the book out and flipped through the contents, hoping that Fidelis left some kind of hint in the sketches or anything really. Then it hit her, if griffons are as straightforward as she thinks, then maybe the password is... No, it can’t be. That’s stupid. They’re stupid if that’s actually the password. She rolled her eyes and looked back at the shopkeep.
“Is the password: Password?”
“Yep!” The griffon hit a button under a counter, and the wall next to him creaked and slid open, revealing a long hallway. Daring walked past the counter and looked down into it. A well lit hallway with a door at the end which assumably had the operations of the OSS on the other side. No keycards or steel security locks. No huge minotaur or even Giant Panda guards or even a single pegasus to guard what should’ve been a gigantic vault door. Instead, it was simply a password to an old shopkeep and a wooden door.
Daring exploded. “What kind of spy agency is this!?”
The shopkeep chuckled. “You read too many adventure stories.” Daring looked back at the shopkeep as if he had just grown several heads. “Go on through, I’ll let General Spearhead know you’re coming.” Daring planted her face into her hoof and simply soldiered on through the hallway.
***
Daring sat on the extremely uncomfortable wooden chair. After presenting the book to a bored looking receptionist, she was sent to the office of the Director of the Office of Strategic Services. She looked around the room. Unlike the rest of the headquarters which was very practical and spartan looking, the owner of the office was very extravagant. The floor's rug was actually the skin of a Giant Oceanic Manta Ray. The desk was made of what appeared to be wood from a certain species of mulberry tree that's been known to migrate and atop stood a sawn-off double barrel shotgun on a stand. Mounted on the wall were heads of various animals: cape buffalo, manticore, hydra, all of them were carnivorous. Opposite was a stuffing of a very large Saltwater Crocodile, three times Daring's length and nearly as tall as her. The skin of it was covered in scars, bullet holes, cuts and bruises.
"Gustave was quite the vicious animal!" A foreign voice startled Daring. She turned back, and saw two griffons standing in the doorway. One was quite larger than the other, and other the same height as Daring.
Daring gratefully exited the chair and walked up to the tall one. "Ah, you must be the Director."
"Actually," The tall one spoke, barely stifling a laugh, "my companion here is the Director." Daring turned towards the short one, whom was trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter.
Daring's cheeks flushed, "Oh! I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" The short one lost it and exploded in a hearty laugh, his tall friend joining him with a slight chuckle.
"Ah! Don't worry about it! I get it a lot, gets funnier every time!" He held out his hand, Daring shook it violently, needing an excuse to change the subject. He proceeded to introduce himself, "General Dienekes Spearhead, Director of the OSS." He gestured towards the other griffon, "This is my assistant, Major Platinius." He pointed towards the stuffed crocodile, "And that's Gustave, most vicious animal I had the pleasure of hunting. Fought him in the shade of the jungle river for over two weeks with naught but a .327 Redbeak, six shots, and my wits."
Daring nodded, "Wow, must've been terrible." Dienekes grunted, nodding with a wide grin. The pegasus suddenly remembered to introduce herself, "Daring Do."
Dienekes walked past her and towards his desk, his roaring laughter now a slight chortle, "Excellent name." He nodded towards Daring’s pith helmet, “Nice hat, that’ll get you some metal on the marketplace.” He sat down in his chair, which in contrast to Daring's looked as comfortable as a cloud on a sunny day, and put on a pair of reading glasses. "So, Miss Do, I understand you've made contact with an agent of ours, Lieutenant Fidelis Razorwind. Ya know, they grow them good in the Razorwind tribe."
"Yeah, he gave me this," Daring handed the book over to Dienekes, "Let me explain, basically he was hunting down this model replica of the Ultima Thule. This hippogriff named Ptolemy stole it, and had him shot."
Dienekes frowned, squinting with his green eyes as he flipped through the book. "Oh dear, is he dead?"
The pegasus shook her head, waving her hoof. "No, he's in a coma."
The general recovered, chortling. "Stubborn sod. You say the Ultima Thule?"
“Yep.”
“I see, there are only three models authentically made by the ship’s navigator, Angelos. We had one in the museum, but that was stolen a year ago. We haven’t a bloody clue where the other two are. I sent Fidelis out to recover the one stolen from us, haven’t heard from him since I sent him out several months ago, appears he’s been quite busy. Looks like what we have is standard code from him.”
Daring nodded violently, a slight smile creasing her lips. “Yeah, yeah. I figured there’s also some kind of pattern too, I mean, why would you shoot someone for a model ship? I can understand they’re worth quite a few bits but I have this hunch.”
Dienekes chomped the end of a cigar and spat it out. As he pulled out a lighter, he spoke, “... this hunch that there’s something bigger going on.” He snapped the lighter and lit the cigar.
Daring nodded, rubbing her hooves together. "Yeah, exactly, I came to you to figure out what to do."
Dienekes smirked, letting the cigar hang from his beak. "Hehehe, Miss Do. We can handle this situation ourselves honestly, but if you’re fully willing to investigate the matter..." Dienekes nodded, then slowly turned the sawn-off shotgun on his desk towards Daring. "Do ask that again."
Daring pointed to the gun. "Is that thing loaded?"
Dienekes looked towards the shotgun. "Of course not!" He raised an eyebrow and took it off the stand. "At least I don't think it is." He looked straight down the barrel. Platinius sighed and walked up next to Daring.
Platinius said, "Listen, what General Dienekes is very stringent on who does what, Daring. We're looking for someone with more... experience... confidence... not you. A griffon."
Daring furrowed her brow, jabbing Platinius in the chest. "Hey! I can handle myself!"
"Indeed!" Dienekes planted the gun back on its stand. "Get her one of them hoof-guns Sky & Walker are cooking up, I bet she could tear Ptolemy apart."
"Oh, I don't uh..." Daring rubbed her hooves together, averting her gaze. "I don't use guns, or kill people."
"Pacifist?"
"No, no, it’s just that I don't kill people."
Dienekes nodded, still with some hint of a smile on his face. “Admirable, expected as much from a pony. But Ptolemy ain’t as honorable, indeed, he’s a criminal. He’s killed people before and definitely won’t hesitate to kill you if you get in his way.”
“I know! That—”
“—is why,” Platinius spoke, the pegasus frowned. “We’re having one of our top agents do this.”
Dienekes shook his head, his usual smile dropping. “Oh, we can’t do that, they’re busy.”
Platinius looked at Dienekes, raising an eyebrow. “Busy?”
The general took the cigar in his beak out and puffed out a light cloud of smoke. “Minotaurs.”
Platinius stared at him incredulously. “What? All of them? You seriously sent all of the agents?”
“Yep. Gotta keep them minnows down otherwise we’ll be sucking feed out of a manger.”
Platinius slapped himself on the forehead, then turned to Daring. “Could you give us a moment, Miss Do?” Daring nodded and left the room. She pressed her ear against the door, letting herself focus on the conversation inside. Thankfully, she could hear everything clearly.
Platinius said, “You realize you can’t just send all of our agents on missions out into minotaur territory right? We’re at peace with them and they’re just a bunch of farmers, what are they gonna do? Grow maize at us?”
Dienekes chuckled, “Hey, corn’s delicious and I can use more of these Minoan cigars around here, very excellent tobacco they grow.”
“I’m just saying, you need at least one griffon or somebody here on homeland security. You can’t have possibly sent all three-hundred agents, which I must add is going to look very suspicious, out to Minoa.”
“Well, I left the chicken behind.”
“Andronicus?”
“Was that his name? I’ve been calling him Aloysius for months.”
“He’s an interpreter. Is that really the griffon you have for homeland defense? Heck, all he does is sit outside the building and drink wine unless we need him.” Wait, Daring raised both eyebrows, is that hobo outside really...?
“Well that’s all he’s really good for, I’d sooner have him discharged or sent on a suicide mission than let him rot.”
“So, let me get this straight, your only agent with which to trust regarding a very touchy subject in Gryphonic history is a drunkard interpreter.”
“Yes.”
“Do you realize how stupid that sounds.”
“Yes, which is why I want that pegasus working it.”
“We can’t have ponies doing this, do you realize how the public would react?”
“Tch, they’ll get over it.”
“They never got over the Horseshoe Bay incident.”
“How were we supposed to know those pigs weren’t gonna show up?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Look, I think you’re overestimating Ptolemy. Sure he can disappear like a ghost, but the hybrid twat is a coward, only kills when it serves him and always uses an extra set of hands to do it. I’m sure a fluffy wambly taffy with wings can take him on.
Daring raised her eyebrow, taffy? “What’s more, Platinius, is that this is historical stuff and that taffy out there, I’ve heard of her actually. Derring Do,” Daring slapped herself on the face, of all the ponies they can mistake me for they choose her, she thought. “archaeological wonder she is. If anyone can beat Ptolemy, it’ll be her, and if anyone can figure what in the blazes this has to do with toy ships, it’ll be her. So get in here, Derring.”
Daring slowly opened the door and poked her head in, her cheeks red and a smile that gave away how forced it was. Platinius crossed his arms, his face leaving little to how frustrated he was, in contrast to Dienekes’ rather jolly and warm smile. Dienekes chuckled lightly, “Yes, I heard you out there, I’m not the Spymaster for nothing. Now come in here, lemme explain something to you.” Daring slowly walked in and seated herself on the now very comfortable wooden chair. “We’ll let you handle this, the Ultima Thule is a very touchy subject for many griffons and I figure someone of your caliber can handle something like this. To start, I’d say we’d need to ascertain the location of the other two model ships, and a good place to start would be Pytheas’ memoirs in the archives.”
Daring asked, “Wait, I thought the memoirs were at his memorial?”
“There are two sets of memoirs, the memorial memoirs are for the public, edited to be entirely politically correct.” Dienekes leaned over the desk, and quietly whispered, “Don’t tell nobody else, that is a state secret.”
“Politically correct?”
Platinius shrugged, “Pytheas was what you would call a racist.”
The general leaned back in his chair, puffing out more smoke and gesturing with his cigar. “Indeed! The actual memoirs are stuck gathering dust underground in the old archives.”
“Why haven’t you gotten them out?”
Dienekes shrugged. “Haven’t found a need to, plus there was some stupid environmentalist sod several years back who got his bollocks in a nutcracker and thought he could help nature by introducing the whistling spider to the catacombs and the archives.”
Daring’s irises shrank. She tilted her head slowly. “... Spiders?”
“Yes, the venomous whistling spider, came from a prison colony his majesty established a couple decades ago down in Kingsland. It’s right next to the Outback actually, I do a lot of hunting there, everything born there seems specifically designed to kill you, even some of the sheep.” Dienekes burst into a fit of laughter. Platinius noted Daring’s stiffness, raising an eyebrow.
He asked Daring, “You scared of spiders?”
Daring coughed, “Ah! Oh— no, no, no. No! I’m just...” Daring scratched the back of her neck, looking at Platinius, whom was not exactly amused. Dienekes also stopped laughing, awaiting the end to Daring’s sentence. “... yeah I’m scared of spiders.” Dienekes resumed laughing while Platinius simply rolled his eyes.
Dienekes stopped laughing long to put the cigar back into his beak. “Ah, the great Derring Do, apparently afraid of itsy bitsy spiders.” He stood up, taking a quick drag from the cigar then taking off his reading glasses. “But enough of these antics, we’ve got things to do.”
The three exited the office and made for the exit. Dienekes was still puffing on his cigar and Platinius was still telling him how inane it was sending most of the agency out on a mission with no particular purpose as Daring got caught up in her own thoughts. Is it really right to impersonate my own sister? Yes, totally, she’s a complete jerk anyway. But what if she founds out, isn’t that illegal? It’ll be worth it. But- No, it’ll be worth it, you’ll see. Daring sighed, frowning heavily as they exited the storefront. The three stood over the drunken griffon on the curb.
Dienekes called him, “Oi, Aeschylus.”
Platinius corrected him, “Andronicus.”
Dienekes kicked Andronicus in the wing. “Aloysius. Get up.” Andronicus grunted, sitting up and tossing his empty bottle of wine away. Dienekes gestured to Daring in introduction, “This is Derring Do.”
Andronicus looked over at Daring with his amber eyes. “The archaeologist?”
Daring nodded violently, “Yeah yeah, archaeology and all that.” Wow, is my sister really that famous, how are these people not noticing I don’t look anything like her, she thought.
Dienekes helped Andronicus onto his feet as he explained. “Andronicus, we’ve got an easy assignment for you. Derring is going to retrieve Pytheas’ memoirs, bring them up here for safety reasons. You’re gonna accompany her, make sure the spiders don’t give her any trouble.” Dienekes quietly chuckled at “spiders”.
The drunkard nodded, rubbing his face. “A-Alright. That I can do, definitely, you can count on me.”
Dienekes laughed. “I’m sure. Even a drunkard hooligan like yourself should be able to handle this. You got your .327, and your wits, you should be fine.”
“Yeah! Yeah, I mean, I’m an interpreter but you can trust me, I’m sure.” Andronicus dusted himself off, then hopped onto the motorcycle, “Alright, Miss Do, into the sidecar.”
Daring sauntered up to the sidecar, noting that it was filled with wine bottles. “Why don’t we just fly there?”
Andronicus sighed, “Long story, just get in.” Daring slowly paved her way past all the bottles into the seat of the sidecar. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, with or without the bottles anyway.
Platinius waved goodbye. “Safe travels you two.” Andronicus started up the engine, and twisted the handlebars. The motorcycle roared, then started forward at great pace right into a parked Model A not five meters from where they started. Daring lifted her hat up, she just had the wind knocked out of her as all and looked over at Andronicus. The drunkard looked down at the pegasus.
He said. “Perhaps we should walk.”