Fine Print

by Starscribe


Chapter 19

Tracy didn’t usually keep a journal. He had no family to speak of, and wasn’t expecting he would have any children. Who was going to read anything he had to say? 

But when he got back from the Equinox festival, he found a notepad program and wrote down everything he could possibly remember. He spent hours getting it all down, and when he was done his only real regret was that he hadn’t managed to smuggle a camera in during the celebration.

The Equestrians were strange, certainly. By some definitions they were a primitive civilization, maybe a century removed from his own world. But just one real night with them, and Tracy saw hints of depth that defied classification, different directions their world had taken that made it more difficult to compare. Ponies didn’t seem to have aircraft for instance, but maybe they didn’t need them. Maybe a third of them could just fly the others around when they needed to get somewhere.

There was more to know about their different tribes, too. The princess he’d briefly met had spoken to him with sensitivity, as though being a bat made him somehow her responsibility.

There was some relief too, that Roseluck and her sisters wouldn’t be losing their family business. They would still have to make changes, but… compared to what they’d already achieved, it seemed so easy. 

He was still writing when he heard Rose come home, though his coherent narrative of the religious details had broken into random cultural milieu he’d noticed—the items of clothing they did wear, the way their society seemed subconsciously stratified by race, even if the ponies themselves seemed eager to deny it.

Woah there, Tracy. You’re getting way too invested in something you’re leaving behind.

He stopped his typing abruptly, staring at a document that was nearly ten pages long. Had he really typed all that with hooves? And judging by the growing darkness out his window, he’d been up almost all day doing it. Damn I’m going to be jetlagged when I go to work on Monday.

Maybe it was better for the locals to hate him, so there was no temptation to see more of their world than he should. Every second he had spent there, every faint glimpse urged him to learn more. Who was the princess, and why did the ponies speak so strangely about the seasons? Their spring display had involved physically destroying clouds to melt snow, which pushed any winter metaphor far beyond any sensible explanation.

I’ve got the money for another place once I get my first paycheck. I could avoid coming back here.

But even thinking about it brought back unpleasant memories to his first attempt to dodge the contract. Its terms were lenient, until the moment he tried to go against its purpose. 

Instead he slipped out the bedroom door, catching Rose halfway to her own room.

It was rare he ever got to see inside. Her window was open as wide as his, and there were a few faint shreds of sunlight growing from the horizon. We’ll both be in trouble after staying up this late. “How’d the rest of the festival go?” 

She stopped in her doorway, spinning back around. Even after spending a whole day on her side, the embarrassment of everyone being naked hadn’t faded. 

Her expression brightened, and she obviously fought back exhaustion. “Fantastic! Whole cart was empty when we brought it back. A few ponies even slipped around for seconds.”

“Now that I’ve tasted, I know why. You don’t know what that means coming from someone who never would’ve eaten a flower.”

She smiled tiredly at him. “Did you just come out here to compliment me?”

For being confident enough to keep your stand going even when you thought it was doomed. For being brave enough to try and stop an alien from conquering your country. For being pretty enough to— “No!” he snapped, before he realized it probably made him sound too sharp. “I mean… a little bit. But before that, I wanted to thank you for bringing me. And if your flower sales keep going well, then… I guess I wouldn’t mind a little something part time. I wouldn’t be able to work very many hours on your side, since our time doesn’t line up, but…”

She embraced him, before he’d even finished speaking. “My sisters will be thrilled to have your help.” He squirmed at the contact, but not enough to push her away. It felt wrong to be up so close to her, like he had stumbled somewhere he didn’t deserve to be. “You think I’m bad at keeping books? Notice how much they helped? Lily hates it, and Daisy would only make everything a hundred times worse.”

She let go, retreating towards her door. “We’re closed tomorrow, but I should still get some sleep. There’s only so much coffee a pony can drink before they turn into Pinkie Pie.” She hesitated in her doorway, smiling sleepily at him. “I’ll look into the flying classes for you. Maybe I can find one closer than Canterlot—I wouldn’t want to ride the train that many times a week.”

“Wasn’t I the one who was signing up for a flying class?”

She stuck her tongue out. “Obviously I’d go with you, Tracy. You didn’t even know a princess when you saw her—you’d need moral support, or you’d probably jump off a cliff before you were ready. Or… what do bats do, caves?”

She left him there in the hallway, confused in more ways than he could count.

Technically I can’t take part-time work with any other company after I signed that contract today. But Apex aren’t the devil. It won’t be that hard to help a little flower stand keep up with its inventory. I don’t even have to help them file taxes.

Tracy made a point of spending the rest of his weekend on the correct side of his door, though the town beyond had lost much of the fear that had kept him trapped inside. Now that he’d been hired full time, there were a few things he wanted to pick up, some of which were for an alien flower company in another dimension…

Maybe he should’ve just taken the department up on their invitation to the pub. Hopefully the flying lessons wouldn’t be happening on the same nights, or that would get awkward fast. ‘Yeah boss, in the secret world inside my apartment, I’m actually a bat horse learning to fly. There’s a local, sexiest pony you ever saw, and she’s going to be taking me in exchange for helping with the flower business.’

For all its other restrictions, Tracy’s intimate study of the contract could locate no injunction against telling other people, though it was quite specific about posting videos to the internet at large. Maybe Discord knew how likely he was to be believed.

When Monday came so did his first real day on the job, nearly a month ahead of schedule. The whole department had a little party waiting for him, complete with his name misspelled on a cake shaped vaguely like a baseball for some reason.

He got his key to the campus pool, along with his first real assignment working for Apex. It should’ve been the best day of his life.

But as Tracy stared at his drafting screen, sketching out the initial template for the part he was designing, he found his mind drifting far from the CAD file and the promise of a gigantic salary.

He’d been living on the threshold of another universe, and rarely stepped outside.

It was time to change that.