The Runaway Bodyguard

by scifipony


Chapter 62 — The Case of the Missing Hyperglider

We found the address in the pegasus part of town. It had paved roads for non-pegasus traffic, but houses carved from clouds. Tract houses. Not very imaginative. Blocky bungalows, with lots of windows on a single floor and no yard. Crystal Skies looped around back, and then peered in the front picture windows, before smacking down on the pavement where the taxi let us off.

"Looks suspicious."

"How so?"

"Can I break in?"

I shrugged. He zipped off. Not being a pegasus, I'd have presumed you could kick a cloud house apart like any other cloud. Nah-uh. Crystal Skies had other skills, apparently, and returned with a report. "I don't think anypony lives there. The air is musty and the clouds are thin in places. I think it gets renewed monthly, probably maintained by somepony not well paid. The furniture is pushed up to the windows to make it look used. It isn't."

"Hyperglide doesn't live here?"

"Sorry, Pops." Crystal Skies operated the mail box, showing it was empty, then pointed at the mail mare a couple blocks down in the sky. "It's only a mail drop."

His ears drooped.

I asked, "When did you mail your last payment."

"Yesterday."

My stomach growled. "A quick lunch, then we see where that letter goes after it arrives today."

#

Crystal Skies traced the letter to a mansion compound in a wealthy part of town. If what I suspected was true, it took more than the substantial number bits Grape Sucker provided his daughter weekly to pay for the palatial setting.

I had my theories.

It could all be extortion by a private concern. In my mind, building the hotel and keeping it legit seemed like a better bit-generating enterprise, but then I wasn't a crook.

It could be a competing syndicate. That made sense in that it weakened Carne Asada while gaining prestige and power for itself.

It could be Grape Sucker's ex. Some ponies were no good, considering what he put Grape Sucker and their daughter through. I bet the stallion's cutie mark would be a humdinger.

I decided that since we'd come this far, we might as well stake it out. I didn't have the firepower to take somepony protected by a compound like this one. What I needed was further information. I knew that Grape Sucker was the victim here, and his daughter even more so. The fellow had taken a small wine café and transformed it into a premiere event venue in Las Pegasus and created the Plumage Pack, magnifying the previously important but not as individually famous stars. Well, except for Dino. Grape Sucker was an asset; I wanted to provide reasons to prevent Carne Asada from writing him off.

A bus stop twenty pony-lengths from the compound gate proved perfect. Lots of bland white-washed stucco wall, a simple bench with a roof casting needed shadow, and a roadway. One glance and I could cast Don't See, Don't Look, Don't Hear all day. Keep a hoof on me, I explained, and nopony would notice us.

Standing and sitting there for hours did prove uncomfortable. In this snooty neighborhood, only the hired help used the busses, so nopony bothered us. A few carriages and taxis passed by. One discharged ponies in suits that knocked at the gates, then entered the compound. Grape Sucker did not recognize anypony.

Grape Sucker said, "What if it's where the accountant lives?"

I answered, "Well paid accountant, then. If they live here, then it's important to see who owns the compound and pays the bills." I did notice the sun dipping lower in the sky. Soon I had my appointments with Carne Asada and would have to explain all that I found.

Another limo pulled by four earth ponies in red livery cantered up. I'd been working with Carne Asada long enough that I queued up Teleport as well as Levitate, being careful not to actuate it enough that I might lose our cover spell.

The hoof pony on the running board at the back of the carriage wore a blousy white shirt and a black tie and sunglasses. He jumped off and hurried to the door. I stood up and so did the others, following me as I took a step forward.

A silver-grey pegasus with a white mane and a three-jag yellow lightning bolt cutie mark hopped down. She had silver-rimmed glasses with thick lenses that magnified blue eyes. Silver saddle bags with the same three-jag mark, overstuffed with giant tomes, weighed her down so much that she made an audible plunk as she hit the ground. She sighed, but soldiered on, taking a first ponderous step. She looked sixteen or seventeen.

Grape Sucker yelled, "Hyperglide!"

I shrieked and jumped aside, scattering the four of us and breaking the spell.

The filly looked our way. So did her hoof pony and pull team, who were likely also bodyguards.

I spun up Levitate and prepared to fight to protect my idiot new client.

As the hoof ponies turned and moved into motion, and Crystal Skies jumped into the air and Citron dove to the right with his horn already glowing bright yellow, amber eyes turned our direction. Magnified, I saw the filly's eyes blink once, then twice, then widen.

Her saddle bags slid off. "Mommy!"

One instant she was by the carriage—

The next instant it was if a punching bag had slammed into me. The sonic boom that came coincident tore off my scarf and blew back my hair, leaving my ears ringing.

I thought, no way her parents knew to name her Hyperglide as an infant.

I had been slammed together into the pair's tearful hug, each calling "Mommy" and "baby-filly" repeatedly. Then I heard, "Daddy died five years ago and I've been so alone!"

Around us, bodyguards started shooting. Citron set the carriage ablaze, and then the stucco wall on fire. I hoped that was because it had a wood frame.

I hadn't lost my spell queue. During training, Safe worked hard at spooking me and upsetting my balance, and sometimes beating me up to help me learn to keep my spell prep under duress, even when my horn got hit. I kept calculating my vectors. I had been working on them for hours, so it didn't take much refining, despite having to back my oblivious charges away from the live-fire zone, ready to pop up my piss-poor Mirror-Shield.

Finally I had enough: Their sugar, and my prep. "Take a deep breath," I shouted, then crushed their snouts into my chest because likely as not they didn't listen. This served to shut their eyes, too, for good measure.

The world ticked 5° to the right and we leapt into oblivion. A three-fer, over two blocks as the pegasus flies and repeated thrice. New weight record. Luckily, the yellow cab I'd paid a gold bit to wait until sunset still waited. I staggered. Only force of will kept me from passing out.

#

Carne Asada went ballistic, smashing an end table and a lamp with her hooves. Why? I was in no shape to accompany her to her appointment!

Stupid limits. I puked in the taxi. That cost me a second gold bit to ensure somepony took us to the hotel. I then had the heaves all night. To compound my agony, my magic ceased working for three days, forcing me to do everything like an earth pony foal.

Broomhill Dare laughed her flank off and said I still had to grow into my hooves. Despite the messes I made, Hyperglide insisted I was the coolest mare this side of Canterlot. I told her I was far cooler because I didn't need additional wings to do my tricks.

Things sorted out interestingly after the rescue.

Carne Asada tore up a number of newspapers—because she happened to be in Las Pegasus when a new gang war had broken out and the press noticed the connection. She didn't seem to be upset about that gang war, however. I gathered that a competitor ceased to exist. It was the bad press. She ranted that the EBI would probably be snapping at her tail again and she would have to fix that soon.

Because of the entire adventure, Carne Asada's daughter Glitter ended up with quite a reputation.

It built over the next month, with rumors that she had the kiss of death. That rumor conflicted with the rumor that she had seduced the pants off of suave Las Pegasus Hotelier Grape Sucker, who suddenly had a glamorous and mysterious daughter himself. The fellow was renowned for having had few mare-friends, but apparently I so impressed him that he had the Plumage Pack serenade me, then I'd swept him off his hooves for a few days-long tryst.

Word was his special talent had to do with what he could do with his tongue. Our short kiss hinted at that. His last name hinted at a lot. It pissed me off that I never got my chance to ride him. I was willing to bet that there was a lot I really could have learned.

The truth of the few days-long tryst was that I took Grape Sucker's bodyguards and kicked them into shape, a lot of it without my magic. One quit. The next would-be blackmailers would find themselves pulverized. If somepony tried the trick I tried in Grape Sucker's office, Grape Sucker would be safely out of danger so fast he'd have motion sickness.

Come to think about it, maybe my training regimen had contributed to that kiss of death rumor.