//------------------------------// // 12 - Tight Spots and Escape Methods // Story: The Amulet Job // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash’s memory was poor in many respects, but it was excellent when it came to spatial awareness. Half the time you were doing a Wonderbolt stunt, you were going so fast that by the time you looked at where the next ring you were supposed to fly through was, you’d already gone through it. (Or around it. Or you’d just hit it.) It was what made stunt flying stunt flying. So Rainbow just remembered where the hoops were and didn’t bother looking, relying on her head to tell her where they were in relation to her. Her head hadn’t let her down yet. The back hallways of the casino were no exception. They were monotonous, dreary, and so boring, but Rainbow remembered them like the back of her hoof. How long they were (ish), which rooms were where, what arrangement the probably-camera-hiding holes in the ceiling had, and the fact that the door oh so tantalizingly labelled “Security Hub” was unguarded. Rainbow almost tried to see if it was unlocked, but she didn’t want to press her luck too hard. When she couldn’t convincingly delay any longer, Rainbow went to a certain central office, knocked three times, and waited. No response. She knocked again, louder. Still nothing. Rainbow scowled; at least in the Wonderbolts, if Spitfire was busy when you knocked on her door, she’d let you know she’d heard you. Rainbow tried again, wham wham wham, and that got a response from inside. A profane one. “I am busy! Come back later!” Goumada didn’t need to make cutting remarks; her tone of voice was cutting enough all on its own. “Later when?” asked Rainbow Dash. “I don’t wanna have to hang around the casino all day. And didn’t you know I was coming? I was just waving at you through the cameras.” A pause, another curse, and the door was wrenched open from the inside. Goumada was smiling stiffly, sitting behind an overly elaborate desk in an office that was a little too big and a little too glamorous for its own good. “Ms. Dash,” she said calmly. She waved at a chair in front of the desk. “Please. Take a seat.” Rainbow took said seat as she glanced around the office. Darkwood panels on the walls. Thick silver (not gray) carpeting. Paintings that were vaguely interesting but undoubtedly from some famous artist Rainbow had never heard of. Bookcases of books with long titles. And a few… things that were probably supposed to be sculptures of modern art. Every square inch of every surface felt like it’d been carefully chosen to scream “expensive!”. Rainbow understood going all-out with decorating when you had an unlimited budget, sure, but Goumada’s own tastes had nothing to do with the decoration. This was all about intimidation, nothing more or less. And what kind of wuss relied on decorations for intimidation? Yeah. She deserved to be stolen from. Goumada cleared her throat. “Ms. Dash-” (By now, Rainbow wondered if Goumada was deliberately calling her that to try and tick her off.) “-I must apologize for not letting the guard know of your arrival.” (Not for her own bad attitude, Rainbow noted.) “I trust you had no difficulty in finding my office?” Would Goumada fall for some misinformation? Worth a shot. In a place like this, Rainbow needed to know where everything was, so what Goumada would want to hear was- “Not really. I don’t have much of a sense of direction inside, sorry. I think I got lost twice.” Thank goodness Honesty wasn’t Rainbow’s Element. Goumada’s smile turned a tiny bit nasty for a fraction of a second, there and gone so fast Rainbow probably wouldn’t have caught it if she wasn’t looking for it. Yep. Hook, line, and sinker. Then Goumada coughed and said, “Hem. Yes. Now, Ms. Dash, do you have any… requests or requirements for your feat?” “Nope!” Rainbow said. “Just that I look as awesome as possible. I guess I need a wide-open space to do it in, but you knew that already, right?” Goumada pulled her head back slightly and blinked. Rainbow wasn’t the greatest at body language, but she knew shock when she saw it. “You… desire nothing?” Goumada said. “Awesomeness is its own reward. Didn’t you know that?” “Well, I- Suppose…” Goumada’s ears twitched. “I assumed you… might need…” She blinked again. “Ah, never mind. And you have no requirements as to when it is performed?” “No. Why?” “As you probably have noticed, on the day of the celebration, I shall be hosting a miniature concert. I was wondering if you could create the rainboom at the peak of the final song.” Ooo. Villain or not, that was a pretty sweet idea. One awesome would enhance the other. (Assuming it was a good song, of course.) Rainbow nodded. “Yeah. Sure. What’s the song?” “Fortissima’s Symphony No. 11 in G Major.” You could almost hear the whooshing as the name went into one of Rainbow’s ears and right out the other, carrying some terms vaguely categorized as “music-related-ish” with it. She blinked and nodded again. “Uh-huh. Cool.” “Now, of course, you’ll need to attend the band’s rehearsals and perform the rainboom then, for timing’s sake,” continued Goumada. She placed a sheet of paper on the desk. “This shows our schedule for our rehearsals — the next one is tomorrow, incidentally — so I’ll be sure to exp-” “No.” “-ect you at… ten…” Goumada blinked, and when she spoke again, her voice was ice-cold. At least, it was compared to most other ponies’. Compared to Nightmare Moon’s and Sombra’s, it was a little lukewarm. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” “No,” repeated Rainbow. Before her brain could catch up with her mouth, she continued, “Nay, negatory, nope, nuh-uh, in your dreams, et cetera, et cetera. Nopony’s gonna see the rainboom until I’m ready for it. That means noooooooo rehearsals in the middle of town.” Goumada’s mouth went thin. “If you refuse to be a team player,” she said quietly, “perhaps I should find somepony who has no such qualms.” “You wanna get somepony else to do the rainboom?” Rainbow asked. She leaned forward and put her hooves on the desk. “You be my guest, and lemme know who my replacement is, ’cause it’s been a while since I’ve had a good race. Listen, I know exactly how quickly I can get up to speed. I’ll hang around the rehearsals to hear when the climax is-” She grabbed the schedule and tucked it away. “-but don’t expect me to dilute the rainboom’s coolness by doing it every few days.” Rainbow was quite glad she was irreplaceable, because Goumada looked like she’d pitch her desk into Rainbow’s face otherwise. Her breathing grew distinctly louder, her hooves were twitching, and her horn sparked for a second before she reined herself in. She opened and closed her mouth several times before finally saying, “I… see.” Rainbow recognized that attitude: You can’t tell me what to do! Of course, Goumada was used to that being true, thanks to the piles of money she could throw around. Good thing awesomeness was something money couldn’t buy. Goumada opened her mouth again, but Rainbow cut her off. “Seriously, this is a super public thing. You really think I’d take a chance that all those ponies could see me screw up?” “I… suppose… not, Ms. Dash.” Seriously, Goumada was behaving as if not getting her way was against the fabric of reality. She took a long, deep breath, the first clear breath of a drowning mare, and managed to force out, “Very well. You do not have to perform the rainboom at any rehearsals.” She glared at Rainbow such that Rainbow could almost feel her desire to make bodily threats. Rainbow just smiled as cluelessly as possible. Irritating ponies was far more fun than was fair. “But at least study the music.” Goumada dropped an orchestral score on the desk between them. “It will help you solidify your timing. The moment the rainboom should appear has been marked.” “Great.” Rainbow snatched the score from the desk. “Anything else?” “…No. You may go.” Goumada waved at the door a little more forcefully than was polite. “Super.” In an instant, Rainbow had hopped off her chair and walking into the hall. Her head was already running through various ways the concert could go off, ranging from- In a voice of sharpened steel, Goumada said, “Rainbow Dash.” It probably would’ve been threatening to somepony else, but ever since laserblasting a deranged alicorn with weaponized friendship had become just one adventure among many, it barely even registered to Rainbow. She glanced disinterestedly over her shoulder. “Yeah?” Goumada’s death glare was one that could make the fiercest ponies shake in fear, as long as those ponies hadn’t faced down reality warpers and walked away smiling. “Do not disappoint me,” intoned Goumada. “Yeah, yeah, or you’ll dock my pay, I know how this goes. Later!” And Rainbow Dash slammed the door in Goumada’s face. So she was in. Maybe she could haggle her way into the back halls again in the future. But for now, she needed to think about now. (That was almost zen. Almost.) Rainbow flipped absently through the score. She couldn’t read music all that well, but the trumpets seemed easy to follow, with a simple melody. And there was a nice, clear box around a set of notes marked RAINBOOM. Perfect. She still needed to hang around a rehearsal and make sure those notes were where she thought they’d be, though. Even she wasn’t infallible. Speaking of a lack of infallibility, it’d be a good idea to test her memory on the layout of this place. Rainbow examined the halls as she left. There should be a conference room on her left in five steps (check), an intersection with a fire extinguisher (check), bathrooms on her right (check), a few cramped cells that were supposed to be offices on her right (check)... Yeah. She had this. Rainbow smiled to herself as she re-entered the casino proper. Easy. Now she just had to lose any tails. “The knot’s good?” Bon Bon yelled up. “As it’ll ever be!” Gilda hollered down from the roof of the villa. A rope was leading between the two of them, one end tied to an outcropping on the roof. “Alright then! Testing now!” Bon Bon adjusted the belt around her trunk and hit a button on the ascender Sunburst had designed. Tiny little arcanic motors whirred; the rope went tight and Bon Bon was lightly tugged across the lawn so abruptly she nearly lost her balance. Once she reached the wall, Bon Bon planted her hooves on it and walked straight up. The sound of the ascender didn’t change and the pull on the rope didn’t become any less strong. Once she’d pulled herself over the edge of the roof, Bon Bon turned the reel off and sat down. “Well, it works,” she said to Gilda. “Obviously.” Gilda snorted. “Obviously.” Bon Bon spared Gilda by not waxing philosophical on just how darn good the ascender was. Similar ones she’d used in S.M.I.L.E. had been bulky things that, while effective, practically took a backpack to lug around. And Sunburst’s was small enough to fit in a purse. It was a bit slower, sure, but that was a small price to pay. Maybe she could talk him into selling the design to the Court. “Why’re we making this stupid thing, anyway?” asked Gilda. “Like, half our people can fly.” She flared one of her own wings for emphasis. “Just stick them on anything that needs climbing.” “Rainbow already got herself pulled into a stunt show and we can’t assume that everybody else will be available. This is the next best thing.” “I guess.” Bon Bon examined the ascender, twirling the reel back and forth. Even for a crudely thrown-together prototype, it looked nice. And looking at it gave her something to do as she poked at personal issues. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? I heard something about land, but that was it.” “Effh. Short version? Mining rights or something stupid like that.” Gilda snorted. “Gouda Feta-” “Goumada.” “No way I’m giving that loser the dignity of using her real name. Gouda Feta claimed this mountain near Griffonstone was filled with gold. And you know griffons: shiny equals good. So a bunch of griffons talked everybody else into getting their bits together and buying the land.” “That’s…” Bon Bon tilted her head. “You threw a huge chunk of your money away on a whim? Just like that? For nothing but the possibility of gold?” Gilda shrugged. “Hey, friendship is nice, but it won’t put food on the table.” “If you ask your friends for some-” “-it won’t do any good if none of your friends can afford food, either. ’Sides, the griffon version of ‘friendship’-” Gilda made air quotes with claws. “-hasn’t gotten that far yet. We’re still in the ‘not fight on sight’ phase. Anyway, you can guess what happened next: no gold. No money. Lots of unhappy griffons. But since unhappiness is kinda the baseline in Griffonstone, nobody got up off their butt to do something about it. Nobody except me. I want my money back.” “And you went straight to theft because…?” Bon Bon’s voice wasn’t accusatory, more curious; what was going through Gilda’s head when she came up with that idea? Gilda ticked off the reasons on her claws. Versatile things, claws. “ ’Cause, A), someone like that wouldn’t just go, ‘oh, sorry, here’s your money back!’, B), I didn’t know what else to do, and C), she deserves it.” “Hmm.” Bon Bon looked over Trotter Gorge, at the casino in the distance. It stood out over the town like some Dark Lord’s tower (Dark Lady’s tower?) in a cliched fantasy novel. Even with all they’d accomplished, it was still daunting. “What would you have done if we hadn’t come along?” “Dunno.” Gilda glared at Bon Bon. “And, yes, I know this is proof of how valuable friendship can be. You ponies don’t need to give me a stupid long-winded speech every time I do something remotely friendly.” “I wasn’t gonna say anything.” “Bet you were gonna sing it, then.” Bon Bon wanted to protest, but she had to keep her mouth closed to hide a chuckle. “Anyway, since it obviously works with a single pony, do you want to test how much it can hold, now? You never know when it might need to carry more than one.” “Whatever. Sure. Not like we’ve got much else to do.” “So do you need my help now?” Derpy called out from the yard. “Sorry, but I’m bored! And I don’t want these muffins to go to my rump!” “You know what, sure!” said Bon Bon. “Get up here.” Thorax-Earth-Beige tried to smile, but it felt so fake he wondered why he was even bothering. He felt like his skin was crying. What was that? Sweating? Sweating was stupid. Who made that you got wet and stinky when stressed? “R-really?” he asked the mare-earth-orange. “Just because I’ve had s-some good hooves, you think I’m cheating?” “Not just because of that,” said the mare-earth-orange. “You’ve been making players fold all over. Like you know what hooves they have. You!” She pointed at the player-unicorn-sanguine so sharply it was like she was stabbing somepony. You had a royal flush last turn. Remember?” “I’m not a part of this,” whispered the player-unicorn-sanguine, sliding her chair back a little. “But- yes.” “And you’ve got a good poker face. But he-” The mare-earth-orange stabbed at Thorax-Earth-Beige. “-folded the second the flop came up. Almost like he knew what you were thinking. Or what cards you had. Oh, you thought I didn’t notice? I was watching you. Once the third card was down, you looked at her-” She was feeling very hoof-stabby today, apparently. “-and folded. You knew.” One of the players-pegasus-gray got up, mumbled something about a good game, and vanished. The others followed quickly, but Thorax-Earth-Beige stayed put; he didn’t want to know what’d happen if it looked like he was trying to run away. At least he’d stopped smiling. “How c-could I know?” he asked, failing miserably at sounding casual. “I’m, I’m just an earth pony.” Although the way he was stressing out, maybe not for much longer. And even if reading the other players’ emotions technically wasn’t illegal, he could hardly go, I’m just a changeling! and expect it to turn out better. “Doesn’t matter how you knew.” The mare-earth-orange was practically shaking with rage. “You cheated me.” “The cards were shuffled every time!” Thorax-Earth-Beige protested. “I c-couldn’t do anything about that! D-do you really think the dealer would work with-” “What?” gasped the dealer-unicorn-violet. She shivered, but didn’t move away from the table. The mare-earth-orange narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t say anything about the dealer,” she said. Her gaze snapped to the dealer-unicorn-violet. “You’re working with him too, hmm?” “What?” The dealer-unicorn-violet’s eyes went wide and she backed up, bumping into another table. “I- I don’t know who he is! I never saw him before today!” “Uh-huh. Sure. I know your type.” The mare-earth-orange took a step forward. “You can keep track of all the cards you deal. I bet all these hooves were set up beforehoof.” Another step. Thorax-Earth-Beige knew he needed to do something, but he didn’t know what. “So how long have you been planning this? How many ponies have you scammed?” And another. “I bet your boss won’t-” Suddenly bursting from nowhere, a guard-pegasus-pink grabbed the mare-earth-orange in a headlock and, in spite of being much smaller, forced her to the floor. “Threats against the staff will not be tolerated,” the guard-pegasus-pink said in a bored voice. “Your winnings are forfeit and you will be escorted from the premises immediately. As this is your first offence, you will not be banned, but-” “Gerroff!” The mare-earth-orange managed to throw the guard-pegasus-pink off her, knocking over a table and disrupting another game in the process. Players and dealer scattered. “I ain’t-” A guard-earth-green, larger than the guard-pegasus-pink, grabbed her in another headlock and slammed her head against the ground so hard Thorax-Earth-Beige was certain he hard something crack. “Threats against the staff will not be tolerated,” the guard-earth-green said in that same bored voice. “While you will see a manager about your accusations of cheating, if you keep resisting, I will be forced to take drastic measures.” Her smile had far more anticipation than Thorax-Earth-Beige was comfortable with. “Please keep resisting.” “Geddoff! I’m stoppin’!” yelled the mare-earth-orange, although her voice had desperation in it that hadn’t been there before. Thorax-Earth-Beige didn’t need to taste her sudden burst of fear to hear that. “Hmph. Stay here.” The guard-earth-green roughly got off the mare-earth-orange. The mare-earth-orange shakily got to her feet, shot one last anger-laced glare at Thorax-Earth-Beige, then fixed that glare on one of the walls. The guard-pegasus-pink got to her hooves and trotted out of the room without a word. Silence fell throughout the poker room. The other tables stared at the leaving group for a moment, then returned to their games when nothing more happened. A guard-unicorn-teal stepped up to Thorax-Earth-Beige and the dealer-unicorn-violet. “Would you two please remain here? Our manager needs to talk to you about…” His eyes flitted over the remains of the game. “…this.” The dealer-unicorn-violet nodded wordlessly, shaking a little. “Um. Sure,” said Thorax-Earth-Beige. “Good.” And the guard-unicorn-teal stepped back as if they were unclean and he didn’t want to spend any more time with them than he had to. The dealer-unicorn-violet collapsed onto a chair and pulled herself into a tight ball. Thorax-Earth-Beige awkwardly sidled up next to her. “Um. Hey,” he said. “Sorry about, uh, getting you involved.” He nipped bits and pieces of her fear off wherever he could. Fear was one of the most repulsive-tasting emotions, but if it helped calm her down, it’d be worth it. “Not your fault,” mumbled the dealer-unicorn-violet. “Some ponies can just be…” She took a deep breath. “You know.” She put her hooves on the table. Thorax-Earth-Beige’s fear-eating seemed to be working; by now, she was hardly shaking at all, and her voice was quickly growing calmer. “She probably would’ve come to that conclusion on her own sooner or later.” “Still. Sorry.” “It’s ridiculous, anyway,” the dealer-unicorn-violet said with a snort. “Anypony who could count cards that well would be smart enough to not draw attention to themselves by winning big.” Thorax-Earth-Beige had the vague feeling he was being insulted, but he wasn’t sure how. “But still. Thanks for apologizing.” The dealer-unicorn-violet glanced at the other few ponies at the table (none of whom was paying them much attention), then quickly shuffled a few high-value chips from the mare-earth-orange’s abandoned pile to Thorax-Earth-Beige’s. Seeing his confused expression, she whispered, “The casino is just going to take that mare’s chips, and they have enough money already. Thanks.” Thorax-Earth-Beige had barely nodded before the guard-pegasus-pink returned. “Please collect your winnings. Goumada will see you now.” Lyra had heard that Sunburst was helping take care of Flurry Heart way up north and manage her magic. And after spending a few minutes with him, no wonder; Twilight was smart, sure, but she had a bit of a nasty tendency to forget that she was the smartest mare in the room and that not everypony knew what she was talking about when she said something like “decouple the thaumatic potential from the antineutron flow to induce decoherence”. Sunburst could explain things clearly and easily so that even she could understand the gist of it. “Now, you need to, to inflate the brane to the, to the boundaries of the bag without, um, actually unfolding it. That’ll, it’ll ensure maximum carrying capacity.” Usually. “Maximum capacity?” Lyra asked as she did the thing to the thing in the thing without doing the thing to the thing. (It was easier than it sounded, but only by a little.) “I thought these things were infinite.” “Common misconception,” said Sunburst. “It’s, bags of holding’re bigger on the inside — huge, even — but there’s, there’s still a limit. The space is, it’s just being expanded, and you can only expand something so far. That one’s, it’s, I think a… hundred duffel bags? Five hundred? Something like that.” “Uh-huh.” All Lyra had managed to catch was “not infinite”. It’d have to do. When she (thought she) was done with… whatever she was doing, she turned the bag over in her hooves. Formerly, it hadn’t been that large, just enough to hold a good-sized pile of bits. Now… She plunged her hoof into it, all the way up to where her leg connected to her body. She waved her leg around, but didn’t feel any insides. Gawking at where her leg should’ve been, she said, “Okay, I… think it worked.” Sunburst didn’t share her surprise. “Uh-huh. Good. Give it here, I’ll make sure everything’ll, it’ll all hold when we start using it.” He snatched the bag from Lyra and began poking his horn at it. “Uh-huh… Uh-huh…” It was amazing how simple it was to make bags of holding, once the math was hammered out. Sure, Starlight still did most of the heavy lifting, but Lyra was sure she could do that in a year or two. It kind of put into perspective just how bad Sunburst was at magic. In fact- “If we can make these on our own time, why aren’t they more common?” “This won’t last that long,” grunted Sunburst. “Give it, I don’t know, two, three moons, and then it’ll, it’ll just collapse. And if we’re not done after two moons, we, we’re in trouble.” He wiggled his horn into the bag, briefly making it look like he was an earth pony with a purse on his head. “That’s, that’s actually the problem with most enchanted items. Plenty of unicorns can charm a thing, but that thing won’t still be charmed after a few weeks.” Lyra knew they were flights of fancy, but visions taking baths in bits after she’d unlocked the secret to long-lasting enchantments gamboled through her head. “And I suppose that if I figured out make that charm last, I’d become filthy stinking rich, right?” Either way, now that she knew where to start from, enchanting an object wasn’t that hard. Maybe she could do it on the side, earn a few extra bits every week. “If you could do that, you, you’d get a lot more than just rich.” Sunburst pulled the bag off his glowing horn. “Anyway, this, this feels like it’ll last long enough. Good job.” Before Lyra could be proud of herself, the door burst open and Starlight stormed into the room, brandishing a strip of duct tape. “For the last time, Sunburst,” she said, “why do we need thermite tape? It’s dangerous and-” “Well, I don’t know when we might need it!” protested Sunburst. “But if it turns out we need it, then we have it!” “And why would we need it?” The Doctor answered from a room over. “Cutting through steel walls, perhaps? Like those of a safe? Probably like the one we’re breaking into? It’s hardly subtle, but it’d get the job done in a jiffy. Besides, this isn’t really actual thermite. It’s much easier to put out.” “Whatever,” huffed Starlight. “Just, look. If we’re going to be testing this, we need all the help we can get in case it gets out of control, so I need the two of you to come out back and be a part of the fire brigade. Just in case. And when I’m telling you to be careful with magic, well…” She gave her tail an angry little flick and left the room. “Thermite tape?” Lyra asked Sunburst. “Cooooool. I bet we could cut through Canterlot Castle’s walls with something like that.” Sunburst nodded. “Probably, yeah. I, I think that was what I was thinking of when I came up with it. I was high on, on caffeine,” he explained. “Still…” He rolled his shoulders, stretched, and stood up. “Starlight’s right. We, we need to be ready for if, if something goes wrong.” “Yeah. Knowing her, she’ll end up summoning a fire elemental by mistake.” Lyra regretted that statement when Sunburst’s brow furrowed in thought.