//------------------------------// // 14 - Flying // Story: Spilled Ink // by Fiddlove Enfemme //------------------------------// "Chocks in place. Harnesses fastened. Water's tight and boiler's hot. Engaging rotors. Crew of the X-13 Dragonfly, standby for departure." The bronze boiling vessel behind me radiated heat, which I could feel through my seat. I shifted around in the overalls that Gyro had provided me, slightly uncomfortable in the stiff denim. There was a metallic clunk! as a gear snapped into place. Above us, the twin rotors began to spin, and I could feel the rush of air. "Rotors at target speed. Boiler at stable pressure. Rotor controls prepped and responsive. Crash foam pressurised and ready to deploy," Gyro looked at me and lowered her goggles. "Ready to change your life forever?" she asked. I nodded decisively, lowering my goggles as well. She smiled and laughed, "You're gonna love this, Inks! Chocks disengaged, standby for liftoff!" The wooden frame began to creak, a steam valve discharged. The rotors span faster, faster, even faster! Time slowed to a crawl as I felt the wheels begin to part from the ground, the weight of the vehicle shifting to compensate. I watched every movement, every bell and whistle, my heart pounding in my chest. What if something went wrong? A sprocket falling, a pin loosening, a brace coming undone. ...but nothing happened. We lifted off without incident, climbing into the sky above Ponyville. "Holy shit!" I said breathlessly. I could see it all! The whole town, from the Apple farmstead to the train station, to Sugarcube Corner, to the Town Hall, to the forests at the north and south. We weren't high enough to reach the clouds, not yet at least, but everything seemed so small! "I told you it would change your life!" Gyro shouted over the rotors, "Now let me show you a trick or two, engaging Glide Mode!" The rotors slowed, the X-13 hanging in the air for a moment. Gyro pulled a lever, and the rotors spun forward, and suddenly the design of the craft clicked for me. The X-13 was named for and built like a dragonfly -- except its wings had been replaced by two large rotors, one on each side. Those rotors spun in opposite directions, and could be controlled individually to turn the craft. Gyro had the controls well in her claws, deftly maneuvering us through the air. The lever that she had just pulled? It changed the rotor configuration from vertical to horizontal, and instead of bringing us up they now brought us forward. The spars that attached the rotors to the main body of the craft, while they had seemed oddly shaped while they were on the ground, acted like the wings of a glider, light enough and wide enough to let the craft ride the air current with the assistance from the twin rotors. "Hang on!" Gyro shouted as she fiddled with the controls. The nose dipped down, angling towards the ground. It began to built up momentum as Gyro angled it back up... and up... and up. Soon it was entirely vertical, starting to slow down. But she didn't let it hang, she stayed her course and it continued on its way to finish the massive loop. With a deft sideways flick of the twin throttles we went for a stomach churning roll. All the while we climbed higher and higher, until we could almost touch the clouds. I scrambled, trying to brace myself in the cockpit, but Gyro laughed and said "Don't worry Inks, she handles like a dream! Wanna give her a go?" I couldn't say anything, so I tried to shake my head. Gyro didn't respond, so I turned to look at her. I just about screamed at what I saw. She was unbuckling her harness, and climbing out of her seat, holding onto the frame of the aircraft with one paw. "I warmed up the seat for ya!" "Actually I'm fine-" The X-13 suddenly dropped, this time I did scream. We'd hit a cold air pocket, and fell for a few metres, being buffeted by turbulence the whole way, before smoothing out again with one last jolt. I groaned, and looked back to the pilot's sea- Gyro was gone. That wasn't good. I jerked around frantically, trying to spot where she'd gone. I couldn't find her. Oh god- I couldn't find her! What in the goddamn was I gonna do? The X-13 teetered in the wind. The controls drifted to the side, and we began to list. Shit. I slammed the buckle on my harness, desperately trying to hit the release button. I threw it off as soon as I could, shuffling from my seat to the pilot's seat, rebuckling the harness around myself. Every second counted. The aircraft was now nose down in a dive, plummeting to the earth. I looked over the controls in a mad attempt to figure out what to do. Brass dials and wooden levers, even though I'd been watching Gyro effortlessly work them less than a minute ago I had no idea where to start. The twinned throttle was probably worth a shot. I activated my claw device, gripping the throttle, pulling it towards myself. I strained and strained, but the claw didn't have the dexterity or the strength I needed to move it quickly. Slowly and painfully the craft lifted its nose, but would it level out in time? The ground approached swiftly. In Ponyville below I saw ponies lining the streets. Some of them were pointing, looking up at the strange construction of wood and metal as it soared through the sky. If this thing didn't lift any faster it'd splatter against the ground with me inside it. I pulled harder, but to no avail. What else, what else? Time was running out. Wait... I could try and change to Hover mode, which might give me the edge I needed! With my other hoof I clumsily felt for the lever, but I didn't know which one was which. But then I remembered, Gyro had only flipped one of these levers. That meant that the lever out of position would be the one. Except there were two of them. Unlabeled. With no time to lose, I pulled one at random - nothing happened. So, I pulled the other one. It was stiff, bloody stiff. I couldn't move it with all of my weight. No dice, I was still falling and the mechanism didn't want to change to Hover mode. But then an idea formed in my mind. I needed to work with the fall, not against. Exponents, negative exponents, when graphed they modeled exponential decay. I needed to do that with this damned deathtrap, bottom out at just the right time so that I became parallel to the ground. It was basic math, a child could have come up with it, it happened all the bloody time. Except if I didn't do it right I was gonna die. I kicked the throttle, causing the X-13 to jerk to the side, and unbuckled myself from the harness, but not before latching and locking the claw device onto the frame of the cockpit. When I was sure it wasn't going anywhere, I crawled over and kicked the throttle from the opposite side. Success! The throttle jerked the craft in the direction I wanted it to, beginning to properly nose up. I grinned, and did it again. And again. The ground was close now, almost too close for comfort. I was flying full tilt down the main street, far ahead of me ponies scrambled to get out of the way, to move carts, to move stalls, but I wasn't in danger of hitting any of them. My heart felt like it was going to explode, but now I had the situation under control. Little by little I inched myself closer to the ground. It was at that point I realised what the other lever had actually done; I'd lowered the landing gear, and the wheels, which kissed the ground momentarily, bouncing the craft into the air. I did my best to compensate, angling away from the ground. It bounced again, but this time it stuck to the ground, and the wheels whirled with incredible speed. I applied the breaks, which was little more than a log being pressed into the ground from behind the wheels, but it helped slow us down. The speed slowed gradually, until the X-13 Dragonfly rolled to a stop. I blinked and breathed a sigh of relief, not quite believing what had happened. Hesitantly, I stepped out of the cockpit, unlatching my claw device. My legs shook, but I did my best to stand strong. I had just taken over piloting a prototype aircraft midflight, and successfully landed it without assistance. I was either incredibly gifted, or incredibly lucky. I didn't really feel like either, to be honest. "Ink Blot!" someone shouted from behind the landing zone. I looked, and was shocked to see Gyro running over. "Gyro, what in the goddamn..?" Sheepishly, she replied in a blur "Okay, so that wasn't entirely what I had planned for you! I was gonna let you take over flying, but that, uh, hot air pocket knocked me off the X-13. I tried to get back on, but it was going too fast for me to catch up with. I was about to write it off as a failure, but then I remembered that you were still inside it, and that you couldn't fly. So! I, uh, kinda hoped for the best. Hope you aren't angry or anything, because everything that happened after I fell off was outside of my control. And you could have died. Unless you activated the fire foam, which would have increased survival probability. Other than that, you flew pretty good." "Please never do that again." I sighed. "Oh, no, I would never leave an unfinished prototype in the claws of someone who'd never flown before." "You just did," I pointed out. "I would never intentionally leave an unfinished prototype in the claws of someone who'd never flown before." Gyro clarified. "That doesn't make it any better." I shook my head disappointedly. "Also! I finished your new claws! Wanna see?" Gyro piloted the prototype back to her workshop as I sat gingerly in the copilot's seat. I didn't need to prompt her to fly carefully; it seemed she'd been more than a little shaken by the experience, more than she was letting on. Thankfully, I'd thought to grab my borrowed saddlebags before I'd left the castle, so I was prepared for the day either way. She led me around back, not to the inside of her workshed (which seemed to have doubled in size since I'd last seen it), but to a small table around the back of it, nestled between haphazard piles of material. There was a stained rag covering the table top, which is where I presumed the new claw device was stashed. "Behold," Gyro said with gravitas, "The Claw Device, V-7!" With a flourish, she threw the rag off of the table. The new device was... a boot of some kind. A pale golden boot. "A... boot?" "Not just a boot, this one has hidden claws! Observe!" she smiled, taking up the boot. The design was interesting. Very interesting. Unlike my current set, the retracted claws on the boot were completely flush with the rest of the metal, indistinguishable from various decorative features on the boot's exterior. The adjustment dial was shaped and positioned differently, and some of the decorations seemed a little odd to my eyes. Gyro rambled on about small technical improvements, but a lot of it went over my head. Gearboxes, springs, even the thread density on the screws she was using. "Ah, but I'm sure none of that is particularly interesting. So! The actual mechanical improvements that will make the user experience more enjoyable! See here, I modified the dial's shape so that a pony mouth could easily grip and adjust it. Better than using your other hoof, no? It's also setup like a ratchet, turn this tab left or right to change which way the dial ratchets to. There's also a fineness knob, it adjusts how rough or fine the dial it adjusting. The highest will change it from retracted to full close in less than a second, the lowest will change it by less than a milimetre," Gyro explained, indicating each function as she undid screws along the boot's length. "That's all very convenient, but we'll just have to see how useful it is." "As the sole investor, QA tester, and consumer, I assure you that you are free to come back to me with suggestions at any time at all. Even in the middle of the night, because sometimes I can't sleep and decide to work on things until I pass out again." "I think I did something similar over the last 24 hours." I commented. She smiled briefly before continuing on with explaining her design "At first I was going to make it from steel, then I realised it was too heavy like that. So I designed my own aluminum-nickel-bronze alloy, it sacrifices a bit of strength but it makes it so much lighter and also resists corrosion as a nice bonus. I briefly considered using brass, but it melted too quickly when I put it under stress testing. The melted lump of it is still around, somewhere. As for it being a boot rather than a sort of gauntlet like the last one, I thought it looked nicer." "Won't I look a little odd with only one boot?" I asked. "That's why I made two claw devices!" she said excitedly, revealing a second boot. "Now with opposable thumbs! Try them on!" Eagerly, Gyro helped me into the boots. This was a more involved process than the previous design, and it required a sort of protective sock to be worn over my forelegs. Gyro then tightened the screws she'd loosened earlier, adjusting the fit as closely to my comfort as she could manage. "Even though they're mostly water proof, please take the boots off to bathe and remember to replace and launder the protective socks regularly. The metal may get scratched or smudged, which doesn't really affect the overall function, but if you have the time take care to polish it back up. Do not put away the blades if there's blood on them, that'll cause them to corrode inside the mechanism," Gyro said. "Wait, blades?" Without blinking Gyro lifted my foreleg and pulled a small tab that I'd dismissed as an artistic decoration. Almost instantly, a five inch blade sprung out, startling me. "It's spring loaded! And if you turn this other tab here, it'll allow you to retract or adjust the blade length with the same dial as the claws themelves. Make sure to keep them sharp." I held up the blade, and looked at it, turning my leg and seeing the blade gleam in the sunlight. "How did you manage to fit this into the boot?" I asked skeptically. It didn't feel nearly as heavy as it looked, and that made me suspicious. "Believe me, it was real tough. To fit the blade in, it had to be tall, and all the mechanisms had to work around the blade stowage compartment. Almost went insane trying to route it all, twice. Then I had to redo it because I accidentally locked the blade in the forward position and couldn't retract it without accidentally stabbing something when the mechanism got caught on itself. Really, it's a miracle I got it to work like this at all! The one before this was patched together with broken dreams and lost wishes. Also, stabbing random strangers in the streets with hidden blades is a federal crime, so watch out for that I guess." "Wait, federal crime?" "Now let's talk about my flying machine! It works! X-13 works!" Gyro cheered. "You said something about a federal crime?" "Don't worry about it, I know a good lawyer. Ignoring the fact that you could have died, how was flying?" she asked excitedly. I shrugged. "There was a lot of panicking. The amount of levers and dials there were? Too many, and none of them were labeled. The throttle didn't respond very well while in Glide Mode, and of course there was the issue that the pilot was ejected from the aircraft prematurely." "That last one was my bad, but the others will be taken into further consideration. And technically it's not a throttle, but you wouldn't know that anyway. Are there any features you'd like to see implemented in the future?" "Dual controls. A linked set for the pilot and copilot, in case one or the other is incapacitated. Cargo space, passenger seating, while keeping it rugged and reliable." I listed. "All noted for later," Gyro said as she scribbled madly into her notebook. Without another word, she ducked inside her workshop. Awkwardly, I sat there, playing with the controls for the new claw boots. They were a little less unwieldy than the previous one, and there was a welcome symmetry in having two over one. And the hidden blade was a welcome feature, though I would need to spend time practicing how to use it properly. I hoped I wouldn't ever need it. However, there was something nagging me. A feeling. Not a pleasant one. It was like I was being watched. It's because I was being watched. Not from the rooftops, but from the shadows. As casually as I could manage, I stood up and stretched, covertly looking at my surroundings. I didn't see any movement, which meant that whoever was watching was either well hidden or well disciplined. But why was I being watched, now of all times? There had to be a reason. Maybe it was the stunts we'd pulled earlier? Perhaps. I wouldn't have bet on it, considering that Gyro had been running her tests for a while now. Was there any other reason? The only difference between now and most of the other times I'd been out and about. Today, I had the saddlebags with me. They were packed with various things I thought I'd have need of over the course of a day, mostly emergency supplies for wilderness survival. Except... Except for that odd brass telescope-thing I'd found in the town hall last week. I'd put it in my bags when I'd left the castle, for some reason. With all of the other things going on, I'd forgotten about it. And the observer from the roofs. It was all I had to go on, and until I got more information. A second mystery to add to my own personal troubles. Until I had an idea of what I was dealing with, I would continue on as if nothing had happened. But I still needed to actually fin that information, and I probably wouldn't find it inside a book. At the very least it would give me something to focus on other than the magical parasite currently occupying my mind and soul. The only lead I had was the telescope-thing. What was it? What was it for? Why did I find it in that disused room? Perhaps Gyro knew. I went inside the workshed, carefully closing the door behind me. "Hey, are you busy?" I asked. Gyro looked up from a slab of wood that she was planing flat. "No, just doing some wood work. Question about the claw boots?" "No, but it is a question," I shook my head. I reached into my saddlebags, and removed the burnished brass device, placing it on the wooden slab. "What is this?" "Oh, that's a camera lens. Fancy one too, it's got some nice thread density. Where'd you find it?" "I found it in a hidden room in the town hall. What else can you tell me about it?" "Right, you've got that whole lost memory thing going on. Forgot about that. No offense, of course," Gyro chuckled, "Most camera lenses are artisan made, done to the specification of the photographers. I briefly considered it when I came to Equestria but it's a lot of sitting at tables all day hunching over tiny bits of metal and glass and it's just not worth the back pain later in life, you know?" "Right, right, is there a way to tell who made it?" Gyro thought for a moment, looking over the piece. "If you go to a reputable craftsgriff then it'll generally have a maker's mark in some out of the way spot. I do it myself on pieces that I'm rather proud of, lots of weapons out there with my mark on them. I had a few kids I taught how to smith, passed the old business onto them when I decided I was done in Griffonstone. Now I'm here! And over here is the maker's mark!" she pointed it out, a small geometric design that twisted on itself. "Do you recognise the mark at all?" "Well, this smaller symbol beside it is supposed to be standardised based on where it was made, as a sort of certification. That's usually a good place to start, then you can start narrowing it down artisan by artisan. Personally? I have no idea. It sorta looks like the symbol for... let me think... Canterlot Crafts? Canterlot Creations? Definitely someone in Canterlot, at least. Unless they changed the nomenclature like they were planning to, in which case I have no idea. Probably the second thing, knowing how it usually goes." I smiled a little, but that still hadn't answered any of my questions. "Do you know what it might have been used for? I... want to find out if there's someone I can return it to, or if I can use it myself." I quickly made up an almost plausable answer. I didn't really want to lie to her, but as soon as I knew the truth I'd share it. "Maybe try those astronomers who rent out the upper floors of the town hall occasionally. I think they like to take pictures of the night sky, so they might need a lens with this kind of zoom. Unless they're astrologers. You know what? Take it either way. I'm sure they could use it in some kind of... hoof reading?" Gyro shrugged. A dead end. "Well, thanks for your help. And for the new claws." I said after a brief silence. We said our goodbyes, and I took my leave. On my walk home, I couldn't help but be distracted. I was mulling over possibilities, brewing theories, running scenarios through my head. I didn't like being watched. Not one bit. It reminded me of one of my recent dreams. The enemy, hidden away in some bombed out shanty-town, waiting for the moment to strike. Back then I'd been young and naive, fresh and inexperienced. Unprepared for the horrors ahead. What were those horrors? I could not say. I couldn't even think of them. Unimaginable, they were, all that remained of them were feelings of fear, revulsion, regret. I'd messed up, and someone else had paid the price. "Hey! Hey, Inks!" shouted a voice from above me, sounding distinctly like a certain bread delivery boy. "Ray, what's up?" I replied. "Right now, I am! But you know what was up earlier? Gyro was up in the air with another one of her flying machines. Even managed to avoid crashing it into the ground again!" Ray said excitedly "And are those new boots I see?" I nodded, "Just picked them up, Gyro's latest version of the bracer claws I was wearing before." "She works fast doesn't she? I'm done work for the day, wanna go hang out some?" Ray smiled, landing beside me. "Fine by me. Your pick." "What about the library plaza? It's not too far, got some public seating, a very small tree" he suggested. "Sounds lovely," I nodded in assent, and we made our way to the so-called "library plaza". It was a large open space, where the cobbles made way for a grassy park, filled with flowers. At the centre of the grass was a single, small oak sapling. It was very open, and oddly peaceful. The buildings here were mostly residential, but for some reason there was no library building in sight. Not even a foreign language bibliothèque. "So why's it called the library plaza?" I asked after we sat down beside eachother. Ray smiled. "Well, you see there used a library here. Then it blew up." "...What do you mean, "blew up"? Was there a gas leak?" I questioned him. "So, there was this centaur who'd been imprisoned in Tartarus, dark lord of evil or something like that. Anyway, he was a centaur and got out and started sucking out magic from everypony. He was gonna suck all of Equestria, but Luna and Celestia and that new one from up north? They all gave their magic to the other new one, from here in town. I didn't actually know her, but she ran the library. Evil centaur guy comes to town, blows up the library, wrecks some stuff, then gets shot with rainbows." "I suppose a lot of things get shot with rainbows around here, then." I commented. "Used to be every few months something got blasted with rainbows. Now I haven't seen anything big get blasted with rainbows since just before the coronation, except of course when that old hot shot from Flight School wants to set new speed records for cloud clearing, but that doesn't really count does it? Not that it matters, but last I heard she'd gotten into the Wonderbolts." Ray babbled. I crinkled my brow, "Are you nervous or something, Ray? You're awfully talkative." He blushed a little. "Uh, maybe? Hey look, I've got some sarsaparilla. In my bag." With his wings, he opened up his side pocket and removed two bottles of Sunrise Sarsaparilla, the red, orange, tan, and black logo giving it a slightly nostalgic feel. Using my new claws, I gripped the bottle and popped off the bottle cap effortlessly. "Listen, just relax," I said, taking a sip of the foamy brew. Delicious. "Forget about what's troubling you, just sit right there and drink your pop while we talk about things that mean absolutely nothing." "Okay," Ray frowned. "You call it pop?" "Yeah? I guess I could call it soda, but that doesn't sound right. Not enough consonants." I shrugged. "What do you mean? It has plenty of consonants, it's got two of them." Ray objected. "Yeah, but an equal number of vowels, and I should have said cacophonous instead. Pop has a sharper sound that more closely resembles the sound that the bubbles make when popping." He shrugged and quietly said, "It's more of a fizz, isn't it?" I cracked my neck and stretched a little, using it as an excuse to take a quick look around. I settled back on the bench and smiled at my companion. "Alright, cut the act. I can tell you're not Ray." "I was hoping you would," Not-Ray nodded, "You'll forgive me for not dropping the facade. We're not alone. Not entirely." "I know. They've been following me since I left Gyro's." "You shouldn't have left the castle. It would have been easier for me to find you there." Not-Ray chastised me softly. "Gyro had other ideas," I defended. "Always the wildcard, huh? It's not safe to talk out here, any moment now they'll notice that I've put a sound dampening spell on us so that they can't listen in." "Where we going? Your place?" I asked. "Not an option. I've been gone too long, they could have planted another Sending Scroll and I don't think I'd have enough time to remove it. No, we're going to a safehouse I prepared, when I first arrived here. I check on it once a month, and the alarm wards haven't been tripped. Follow my lead. On my mark, we make our move. And leave the goddamned soda behind." I nodded my understanding. I took one last quick swig of my sarsaparilla, and set it on the ground beside the bench, where it would be easy to grab but out of the way if I had to move quickly. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I breathed deeply, willing my muscles to relax, to untense. I needed to be focused on the task at hand. It was something I'd done hundreds of times before, willing myself to be flexible when my body wanted to be stiff. Tensing your muscles in bad situations would only raise stress, lock up your joints. When the time finally came for action? You'd have a moment of almost impeceptible hesitation before beginning to make your move. When you were dealing with a matter of seconds, even such a small fraction was important. So I sat there, breathing deeply, muscles loose, using all of my senses as I waited for the moment. I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. The observers were moving. Not-Ray looked at me with a nod... And he broke into a dead sprint across the library plaza! I reacted quickly, and followed right behind him as he charged down an empty side street. There was a commotion behind us, but I didn't look back. Never look back. It slows you down. Not-Ray ducked down a narrow alleyway, even smaller than the sidestreet. I followed. Trash bins and detritus blocked our path, which he deftly leapt over. I was not so deft, knocking down one or two bins and nearly tripping over myself, but a small burst of emerald green magic lifted me to my feet. The alley exited out onto a thoroughfare, which was currently full of ponies going about their late afternoon business. We squeezed through a stall and into the crowd, hoping to lose the observers, before ducking into another alley. This one twisted strangely between buildings that had been butted up against one another, going this way then that. My heart sank as Not-Ray led me into a dead end. "We're not done yet, I'll boost you!" he said urgently. He crouched down, creating a platform with his forelegs, which I stepped onto. With in-equine strength he thrust me upwards, onto the straw thatched roof of the buildings above us. I scrambled for purchase, my hooves digging into the weathered thatch, and Not-Ray flew up beside me. He turned, and built up speed before leaping across to the balcony of a nearby building. With no other option I followed, rolling from my hooves onto my side as I landed. He kicked in the balcony door's lock and rushed inside. The balcony led into a bedroom, which thankfully was empty. The lights were off and I assumed that the owners were away. Not-Ray wasted no time, and rushed through the rest of the house, and out its back door. I hadn't noticed earlier, but he was leading me into the old town, which was as quiet as it ever was. This back street was obviously disused, with a few ramshackle sheds and hovels dotted around. He carefully closed the door behind him, and took me across to what looked like an old warehouse. With his magic, he formed an emerald green key, which he inserted into a locked door. The door opened inwards, ghosting on deceptively well oiled hinges. He guided me inside, then closed the warehouse door. "Is this the place?" I asked. It was old and rundown, the roof sagging slightly, smelling strongly of some kind of mold. Discarded shipping containers littered the floor, in various states of disrepair. "Not quite. This is the first layer of secrecy. This place was last used 50 years ago, when the railroad went in and the river trade dried up. Used to send boats and barges full of trade goods, get offloaded and stored here. The rights to it are owned by the Rich family, who haven't been able to do anything with it because it's a heritage building. Word on the down low was that it was going to burn down mysteriously, but it had something very convenient for me." Not-Ray explained, his disguise beginning to flicker. "And that is..?" Not-Ray's disguise lowered, revealing the insectoid face of Quill the Changeling. He led me into a side room, that once served as a cleaning cupboard. He lifted up a section of floor -- a trap door hidden under the cleaning supplies. "Access to the old underground network. Tunnels all over town, built by Diamond Dog bootleggers during the three decade long Cider prohibition. What I cared most about is the deep tunnel, that goes under the river to the Everfree. There are hidden rooms and access points across most of town, though a lot of them have been blocked up and forgotten. I know because I checked them from this side." "I'll bet that one goes directly to the Apple family farm, and one to the Speakeasy." I commented. "Those are two of the only ones left open, though they're hidden pretty well. Very few ponies know about them, but the ones that do think that they're unsafe and unstable. Not true, the Duggi build their tunnels to last." "Are the Duggi and the Diamond Dogs the same people?" I asked. "Yes, and no. They call themselves the Duggi, while the Diamond Dogs is just the pony name for the local outcast clan. If you ask a Deep Duggi, they'll decry the Diamond Dogs as rakes and wastrels, always after the next payday. If you ask a Diamond Dog, they'll call the Deep Duggi uptight and conservative, unwilling to take risks." "Ah, I see." Quill carefully lit an old, dusty oil lantern, and lifted it above us with his green magic. "We're heading for what used to be a basement for the old town hall, before it burnt down and they built a park on its foundation. Funnily enough that one was actually a gas leak. When I found the basement I spent a year fortifying it with everything you could need to survive, changeling or otherwise." "It never hurts to be prepared." I replied approvingly. "I also prepared a bug-out tunnel from the basement, in the unlikely event that we were followed." The dark, earthy tunnels seemed to go on forever. It occurred to me that I would have become totally lost without Quill to guide me. It also occurred to me that if he wanted to get rid of me, this was the place for him to do it. I don't know how long it took us to get there, but we eventually arrived at the old basement. It was musty, and the floor was crooked on an angle, causing everything to tilt towards one of the corners. Despite this, a few raised platforms had been constructed, to provide a level space. If you ignored the droopy ceiling you could imagine that it was an unorthodox floorplan. Various supplies were stashed inside crates and barrels, and in the far corner there was a sleeping area made up. I stopped at the entrance as Quill went inside. Something about this felt wrong. I didn't trust that Quill, only having known me for a short time, was letting me in on this kind of secret. "Inks? Come inside, I need to reset the wards." I shook my head. "Quill, why are you doing this? Why are you showing me this, bringing me here?" He sighed. "I should explain that, shouldn't I? Come in, and I'll tell you everything you want to know. Nothing kept secret. Not after today." I still doubted him, he was after all a creature built for deception. What was there to say that he wasn't deceiving me, even now? Nothing. I'd simply have to trust him. I stepped inside. As I watched, Quill seemed to relax significantly. His horn flashed several times, and an almost imperceptible barrier lowered over the basement doorway. One by one, a series of lanterns lit up across the basement, illuminating it. One was set on a side table, with two armchairs on either side. Quill sat in the leftmost one, and I sat in the one that remained. "Well, the first thing I should say is that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten you wrapped up in this scene." Quill said gravely. "...What do you mean?" "The ones who were trailing you? They were doing that because of me. They think you're a Changeling. They hunt us down." I frowned, but suddenly it made sense to me. A species of insectoids that could seamlessly blend in with your population, kidnapping and replacing influential figures to affect a takeover of society? Of course they'd have a shadow organisation dedicated to hunting them down and eliminating them. "How do you know?" I asked concernedly. Quill produced a small roll of paper stored in a brass tube, nondescript and uninteresting. "This is a Sending Scroll, a magical item that records what is heard and reproduces it on its sister scroll. I know what they know, because I reversed its enchantment. They picked up on what I did, but not before I learned their plan. They were going to kidnap you, Ink Blot. They were going to interrogate you." Interrogations. Horrible things to be in. Messy, too. Especially when the ones holding you didn't follow the laws of war. Or just didn't care. "You say that like you know what they were going to do to make me talk." He sighed, and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he spoke, his voice wavering. "Ink Blot? When I came to Ponyville, I didn't come alone. There were three of us, one more than standard protocol typically encouraged. None of us answered the call for the invasion. After the wedding, there was a crackdown. They... they took Septum. Tibia and I, we tried to rescue him, but..." His voice broke, the memories too painful. I said nothing, but extended my hoof, touching his shoulder tenderly, despite the claw boot. "What I saw that day has haunted me for a long time. A long time. We found Septum, after dozens of others who'd been captured before him, but he'd... we tried to carry him out, but the guard was coming. Septum wanted us to save ourselves, to leave him, but Tibia refused. They bought me time to escape the prison, and so I did. Ever since I've lived in fear, waiting for them to come for me, waiting to join Septum and Tibia." He went quiet again. Something struck a chord in me, and I immediately knew what he meant. I knew everything that was going unsaid. The emotions. The fear. The revulsion. The regret. The guilt. "I know what it's like to lose a comrade." I quietly said. "Maybe. Maybe. But us three? We weren't just comrades. We came from the same clutch, we were brothers and sisters. I'd never known what it was like to be without them, until I was too cowardly to stand and fight." "Perhaps. But you're alive. You said it yourself, you're here because they bought time for you to escape." I rationalised. He scoffed. "I know that. I've known that from the day they died. But I don't feel that way. Ironic, I know, the creature that's supposed to feed on emotions doesn't know how to manage his own." "But the conflict with the Changelings is over, isn't it? I read something about a King Thorax last night." "Thorax? He was never popular in the old hive. When the time for invasion came, he rebelled and was cast out. There's no possible way that he could have taken power legitimately. The way I see it? He's a convenient figurehead that the Equestrian princesses are using to control what's left of the hive, his talk about friendship a facade for them to root the last of us from our holes." I nodded in understanding. The books on recent history were vague and unconvincing in their portrayals of Thorax, never quite agreeing on anything concrete. "So they think I'm one of you. Why?" "They've been keeping tabs on me. They keep tabs on everyone in town, really, but I was trained to notice covert surveillance wherever it comes up. I never gave them any reason to suspect me, keeping to myself. I think that once the official conflict ended that were focusing on more overt resistance, not outliers like myself just trying to get by. But when you came to town... you arrived out of nowhere, and I'll bet that they didn't have any sort of files or tabs on you, so they panicked. Then you link up with a supposed Changeling? Not too far a stretch to assume that you might be a Changeling as well. You and I both know the truth, but they won't trust our word." "Huh," I frowned, then opened up my saddlebags, removing the camera lens, "Gyro said this was for a camera, probably for the astronomical club in the town hall." "Potentially, and I can see why she might have thought that. Very few amateur photographers need such a long lens, but for taking photos of the night sky you need a lens that's long, and then wide. This one is just long, for close-in shots from far away. Where did it come from?" I told Quill about the secret room in the town hall. "That makes sense. A typical post for them is up on that roof with a camera, to get mug shots without attracting suspicion. By taking that with you, they immediately became a lot more wary." Quill thought out loud. A quiet began to hang over us as we thought about our predicament. "While we're here, do you have any ideas on what to do with my, uh, memory problem?" I asked after a long silence. Quill nodded. "I did some digging, and there's something experimental I can try. However, there is a small chance that it will kill you if it goes wrong." "That's... reassuring?" "Essentially, it shocks the parasite and causes it to lose its grip on you. However, if it doesn't lose its full grip then it'll come back at full strength. The parasite will then attack previously unaffected parts of your inner self, which would cause irreversible damage and probably kill you. While it's shocked, you'll need to do everything in your power to remove it, no matter what else happens." So those were my options, then. Live with a parasite eating away at me, while slowly reclaiming bits of myself here and there. Die attempting to get rid of it. Or, be free of it once and for all. Was it really worth the risk? Yes. I wanted to know. I wanted to remember. Needed to remember. "Do it." I said finally. Quill nodded and breathed deeply. "If you for some reason feel... unimaginable pain because of this, know that it wasn't intentional." "I understand." I nodded with conviction. I opened myself like I had done before, with Starlight, and with him. It was remarkably easy, though I felt a slight pressure building in my ears. I brushed it off. Quill stood up from his chair, and turned to face me, lowering his horn to point at my forehead. The emerald green glow of his magic enveloped his horn, and extended outwards in an almost web-like pattern. It began to surround me, to form an ethereal bubble. I shut my eyes, and willed myself to relax in preparation for what was to come. "You should now be able to hear me inside your mind," Quill... almost said, his voice breaking through my very thoughts "This is the closest any Changeling can be to another creature, a true linking of mind and soul. Normally it's meant for feeding, but today it has a different purpose. I am going to let you see what I can see." What do you see? I asked. He did not respond, but the world in front of my eyes melted away, to be replaced with a void. It wasn't black, it was just... empty. But then a light. It illuminated motes of stardust that drifted lazily. And then it came closer. The light came from a crystalline formation, a network of... something. It pulsed, and that's when I saw it. Coiled around the crystal was some black sludge vaguely resembling some kind of leach or slug. Some parts of the crystal had been overtaken entirely by the creature, in others it had burrowed through like some kind of insidious mole. "This, is your emotional root. It is found at the very centre of your being, projecting its light throughout yourself. Under normal circumstances, its light can be seen from anywhere inside your being, though it may be tempered by the dark film of logic and reason," I heard Quill say. It's dark. Very dark. Quill's voice echoed through the void. "Because the parasite has dampened it, feeding on the emotions. Emotion colours memories most strongly, and is inextricably linked. When you remember something, echoes of it resonate back to your root. The parasite's filth clouds your memories, because those resonations will damage it. By clouding your memories, it creates an environment more suited to its survival." But, when I have a strong enough emotional reaction, it breaks through, causing a resonation and damaging the creature. "Precisely," Quill agreed. "What I'm going to do will artificially create a resonation, which will temporarily dislodge the parasite" Do it. I willed. A few moments passed as I watched green filaments snake across the void. They began to coalesce on the crystal, pooling around where the vile creature made its home. Slowly, I began to feel an energy, somewhere deep within. It unnerved me, made me think twice about what was going on. But I needed to do this. I needed to see my past. The filaments suddenly began to glow, the energy I felt coursing along them towards the creature. The filaments were green, but the energy was blue. I had never seen anything like it! But something was wrong. The energy reached the parasite, and pain shot through my body like electricity. It hurt, everything hurt. It burned. It felt like my skin was going to boil off. I could barely think! Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. My vision cleared, and I blinked, once again greeted by the old basement. The green wisps had disappeared, and Quill was cowering. "They've found us, they're here! We need to run!" he whispered with a tremble. "Get on the ground! Surrender and you won't get hurt!" a deceptively high-pitch mare's voice shouted. I looked towards the entrance, which was blocked by two mares in suits. One of them wielded a strange device, the other's horn glowed menacingly. I felt... different. Something had changed. I could think clearly, without anything to get in the way. The fog was gone. I was free! Quill had freed me! But the one who had helped me was in danger, and now I needed to help him. "Run." I said to Quill, rising to my hooves. I ignored his words as I charged towards the mares, ready to fight. The unicorn sent a blast of golden yellow energy my way, probably some kind of stunner, but I dropped flat to the ground as it passed over me, then sprung to my hooves just as fast as I'd dropped. The strange device fired off a net, but it went wide. I was now in CQC range as I tackled one of the mares, the device dropping from her hooves. We rolled out into the main passageway, trading blows. With my booted hooves I stomped at her head, trying to knock her out. A powerful energy blast knocked me off of her and down the passageway as the unicorn mare made her move. She was running at me with something, but I rose up and adjusted my footing as she rapidly approached. I suddenly lunged under her, knicking out her legs and slipping past her, throwing her over my back. The other mare clutched something in her mouth, creeping closer, but I jabbed at it and it jammed against the roof of her mouth. While they were both down, I briefly looked back into the basement. Quill was nowhere to be seen. And that was what did me in. The two mares leapt onto my back, forcing me to the ground and holding me down. One remained there while the other activated her magic, forcing my limbs to the floor or the tunnel. The unicorn stepped over my head, turning to look at me as her minty green mane was illuminated by her golden magic. It was the last thing I saw before something hit the back of my head. Hard.