//------------------------------// // Chapter 21 // Story: Fine Print // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Tracy shouldn’t have been that overwhelmed by a few questions. The one asking them wasn’t even threatening, more the kind of creature a child would find at the best petting zoo ever. “Thanks for helping me out of that,” he said, as soon as they’d left Lyra behind and were well on their way across Ponyville. His watch still read seven, so it wasn’t like he felt incredibly tired or anything. If only the sun wasn’t so bright. “I should’ve realized she would want to know everything. I’ve had months to learn little things about Equestria, but she’s trying to power it all down in a few minutes.” Rose had seemed upset during the interview, though he couldn’t imagine why. Probably just the rotten brisket sandwich stinking up the kitchen. But now that they were out in Ponyville none of her sourness had followed her. “You invited her, you should’ve expected that. Or maybe not, I guess I should’ve given you some kind of warning first. Lyra wishes she could be out traveling other worlds, but she doesn’t get to very much so she spends too much time talking about when she did.” I can understand that. If anyone at work knew that I lived in another universe, they’d probably have a few questions to ask too. But the more he did to talk about Equestria on the other side, the closer he came to tempt the terms of the contract. Given the one enforcing the rules, he would prefer to stay as far away from the terms as possible. “Well now that I’m out, I guess I might as well do what I said I would. I won’t be able to stay with you all day, since I’ve got work tomorrow and I need sleep eventually. But a few hours shouldn’t be a problem.” He could just drink a second shot of espresso tomorrow morning. That was basically three hours of sleep in a mug. Ponyville was closer to his hometown than San Jose, that was for sure. Everyone they passed greeted Rose by name as though they’d known her for years. A single central main street with most shops connected to it also seemed like home—though at least everything looked different enough that Tracy didn’t feel like he needed to run away. It was a strange new world, not the ghost of his past come back from the dead. “Having good records isn’t going to save the shop on its own,” Rose said, stopping abruptly near where buildings ended and market stalls began. Closest was a fruit seller, where one of the little yellow horses he’d seen at the festival was there hawking apples. “But at least having all the numbers will show us what needs to change. The less time my sisters and I spend away from the plants, the happier we’ll all be.” The stand was barely even large enough for one more adult to fit inside with the other two. Tracy followed Rose through the cloth flap, and was momentarily stunned by the smell. He held still, expecting to descend into hacking coughs in just a few seconds. Allergies, are you on vacation? Apparently so, because his eyes didn’t even water. Lily and Daisy were both staring. “You brought him to work?” Lily asked. Rose nodded, glowering. But there were so many other little stalls, and none of them very far apart. She hesitated, drawing a curtain across the front of the stall to obscure them.  “We talked about this. Tracy brought us something to help us keep records. We’ll always know everything we have in the store, all the orders we’ve placed, and everything anypony buys from here on.” It would have to help them big-time, if he ever expected to learn to fly. But Tracy couldn’t help but conjure images of being pushed out of trees, so missing out on that might not be the end of the world. “It won’t take that long,” he said instead. “If you don’t like it, I can return everything.”  There were half a dozen little shelves of flowers, all packed together. Many were empty, though some had new stock. And between them all, Daisy was trimming away at her latest arrangement. Rose settled the saddlebags on an empty section of table, gesturing. “Go on, Tracy. Do you need any help?” “Not really. Just some space.” Tracy set to work as quickly as he could, conscious of the eyes of the other mares on him. Well, Lily watched. Daisy went to the front to sell flowers, or at least stand there. He unwrapped the little POS tablet, basically just an old iPad with a stand. He’d seen the same things in trendy shops all over San Jose, attached to little Square scanners and contactless payment terminals. Ponies didn’t have any of that, and he’d had to fenagle the sales program to work with their database instead of some cloud-based subscription nonsense. Needless to say, he didn’t expect to have service in Ponyville. The closer he got to setting it up, the more the flower sisters crowded around him to stare. Apparently Equestria didn’t have anything like plastic packaging, let alone tablet computers and point of sale devices. Soon enough even Daisy had come back from the outside to stare while he gave a running banal commentary of what he was doing. “This is the battery bank, it’s what will keep the tablet powered through the day. Now I’m plugging it in with a USB cable…” Explaining didn’t really seem to help, but he kept going anyway because it stopped them from asking dumb questions. “Now we need to load the operating system I flashed to an SD-card with the specifics of your flower stand.”  Eventually he was finished, and the tablet sat on the table beside a tray of cut stems. Tracy could never really know how objects were going to come through the doorway, but all that happened to the tablet was that it seemed to grow in size, so large that the stand could barely hold it up anymore. But when ponies have to touch it with their feet to make anything happen, it makes sense it would be big.  The printer came last, along with several spools of thermal paper. “This is the important part. When whoever is at the front gets an order, it will come back here to this printer. You tear off a piece, and know what you need to make.” “We already know what we need to make!” Lily called, glaring suddenly at Rose. “This arrangement Daisy is working on—it’s for a birthday party tonight. You know how Pinkie gets—if there’s one thing off, whole order is trash.” Rose stiffened, color fading from her face. “Wait, that’s today? Oh buck.” “Language,” Daisy chided cheerfully. “There are fillies outside.” Rose spun to face him, ears flattening. “Hey, uh… Tracy? Do you think you could stand out front for a…” She glanced to Lily. “A few hours at least.” “A few hours?” she repeated. “Please?” “I, uh…” He should head straight home and get some sleep. “I guess I could try out the new sales terminal? I’ll have to teach you three how to use it, but… I could help for a little while.” “It’s easy!” Rose helped him move the tablet out past the curtain, settling it to one side of the stall’s front so it wouldn’t obscure the inventory display sewn into the curtain. “Just ask ponies what they want and tell us. Little things we’ll bring out right away. Any big customers, call for me and I’ll consult with them before taking the order.” “Sure, but—” She vanished through the curtain without another word. And just like that, Tracy was outside manning the stall. Excuses bubbled in his mind, popping away in seconds for not seeming convincing enough. He could’ve insisted, maybe gone back to get the rest he deserved. But whenever he thought of it, he couldn’t help but remember Rose’s relief at seeing her records finally corrected. Something so simple, one of the few things his qualifications let him offer, had made a difference. He could stand at a flower stall for her, if it would make her feel better. Besides, he would look so strange standing there that no one would want to buy anything anyway. For a few minutes, that was exactly what happened. Tracy stood at the front of the flower stall, with the tablet resting in front of him with the inventory up. The sisters worked furiously in the back on their gigantic order, but it didn’t sound like they would finish anytime soon. “You’re working for Rose now?” asked a voice from just ahead of him. He looked down, then slid to the side so the screen wouldn’t block his face. He’d seen this woman a few times now—once flying through the air, then again delivering letters.  She wore the same uniform as the last two times he’d seen her, the exact same brown as an Earth delivery company he knew of. “Is that why you’re living there?” He shrugged. “I, uh… I guess I am working for the Flower Sisters.” He would be taking his proceeds to buy flying lessons, anyway. That was kinda the same thing. “Do you want something?” “Oh, yeah.” She twitched, and Tracy could see clearly how walleyed she was. Does that hurt? “Breakfast special, please. Whatever’s fresh.” She plopped three gold coins down onto the table beside the tablet. He raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the sign mounted to the wall. Unfortunately for him, it was entirely pictographic, so he couldn’t verify if “breakfast special” was real. “You know this is a florist, right?” “Oh, I know.” She puffed up her chest, standing straighter. “Back when I just volunteered for the weather team, I never could’ve bought something so nice. But now I can get everything Ditzy needs for school and even splurge a little.” Tracy sighed, glancing to the side and sliding one hoof along the tablet’s surface. It still worked, at least if he touched the screen with the fleshy part between the hard sides of each hoof. She wasn’t wrong, there was a breakfast special on his product list. He tapped it with a hoof, waiting. “What’s the name for the order?” “Muffins,” she said. “What’s your name again? I think you probably told me once, but I forgot. I’m not very good with names.” “Tracy, pleased to meet you.” He sent the order, then extended a hoof in the strange yet familiar greeting. A few seconds later came the whirring of the thermal printer, along with several gasps. “They’ll have it right out,” Tracy said, only a little smugness seeping into his voice.  The gray mare only nodded, settling back on her haunches as though she hadn’t even noticed anything unusual about the order. Fine with me, I probably shouldn’t start reselling computers in a world that barely has electricity. The curtains parted, and Rose emerged from within, clutching a paper plate by the rim in her mouth. The contents were basically just a pile of trimmings, probably from the same order they were making, though it was scattered with a dozen or so little blooms. “Good morning, Muffins.” It looked more like a scoop of someone’s green bin than breakfast, but Muffins didn’t seem to notice. She only beamed, taking the plate in her mouth. “Good morning, Rose! Thanks for breakfast!” She gathered it up, vanishing away through the stalls. “I keep forgetting you people eat that,” Tracy muttered, mostly to himself. “It’s not just weird desserts you make for special occasions. You just eat yard waste.” “We do not!” Rose bopped him lightly on the nose with a hoof, glaring. “The Flower Sisters serve only the freshest flowers.”