//------------------------------// // Chapter 28: The Flies Have It or The Ones That Go Flirt // Story: Tidalverse: The Fearsome Foursome // by Alden MacManx //------------------------------// Foster Hardegan, former Sheriff of Rapides Parish, Louisiana, now a burly white and gold unicorn, cautiously approached the doors to the hangar of Precision Sky Aviation Services, salt water spray nozzle held tightly in his glow, ready to pull the trigger as soon as he could get an opening. “Open the dayumn door! Got delivery for you!” he thought. Slowly, the hangar doors cracked apart and opened a bit. The power of the aversion spell literally felt like a stiff wind blowing in Foster’s face through the crack. “Took her long enough. Start the delivery,” he heard in his head. Foster activated the defensive spell Queen Marie had taught him through the mental link, causing his aura to flare up around him, surrounding him with a golden glow. “Take that, you son of a bitch!” he shouted as he started spraying, keeping the pressure in the tank high, sending iodine-laced salt water into the building and onto the fly-man-demon-whatever-the-hell-it-was. “If ah may ask, just what are ya doin’ in theah? Why the fright field?” he asked telepathically while he spoke a torrent of curses and whatnot. “The maggots gather corrupted magic and concentrate it, bringing it here so Scylla cannot get to it and use it. While its presence here is minimal, I will do all I can to keep it out of this area. Marie is doing something similar in her lands, via a different method,” came into Foster’s mind. “Thank you for the iodide. Trace mineral that helps me.” “Will you be all right, continuing your mission?” Foster asked. “I will. Thank you for asking. Now, to avoid suspicion, thin out your shield and act naturally. I will let Queen Marie know of your honor,” the fly sent to Foster. “You got it. Thank you!” Foster sent as he started feeling terror seep into his awareness. This is a bad place, go away, nothing to be seen here, get the livin’ hell OUT OF HERE NOW! He picked up the sprayer in his glow and removed the lid. Tossing the contents inside, he shouted “Good buddy, you may get me, but brother let me tell ya, that yer gonna have to catch me first!” before turning to the left and bolting, disconnecting the cart from the harness as he galloped off, feeling the terror chase him as he sprinted along the building, through the parking lot, to the road and away from the airport, mind filled with fright and overflowing out his ears. The next thing Foster knew, he was standing in water up to his barrel in a small pond, shaking, steaming and panting, foam and sweat dripping off of him. “What in bloody hell happened?” he asked no one in particular when his mind decided to return back to his brain from wherever it had taken off to for a while. “You tell me and we’ll both know,” Bernie said as she landed on the shore of the pond. “Ah don’t remember a thing after the door started openin’' Foster panted. “Did the plan work?” “Not exactly. Apparently, your Queen Marie’s shielding spell wasn’t quite up to scratch,” Bernie said drily as Foster used his glow to scoop up some pond water and rinse himself off. “Well, she did say it wasn’t going to last long. Guess it didn’t last long enough,” Foster said as he climbed out of the pond and shook himself dry. “Want to take the roads home, or do you think you’re up to short cuts?” Bernie asked. Foster took several deep breaths. “Ah think ah can handle short cuts. Gonna have to apologize to Doctor Malala for losin’ her cart,” he said, feeling a little guilty. “I’m sure she’ll get over it. Let’s get going,” Bernie said, taking wing. When Bernie and Foster returned to the Deliverance, Foster told everypony there that he was going to nap in the tent until dinner, thank you very much. Bernie was asked by the crew what happened, and she told what she knew. “I just caught a tiny piece of what you encountered, Frieda. May I never feel that again.” “Full on is a lot worse. I remember it happening, then nothing until I felt Fred put his arms around me. At least you remember it touching you and your escape,” Frieda commented from the galley, where she was making cornbread muffins, a favorite of Foster’s. “I’m going to set watches tonight. Bernie, I want you to take the midnight to four, and I’ll take the four to eight. I’ll tell Foster to take the eight to twelve. That way, we can be heading out within an hour after sunrise and proceed straight to Key West,” Frick told Bernie and Frieda, Frack napping down in the cabin and the others not yet back from ‘shopping’. “I can do that,” Bernie said. “I can nap while Foster’s on watch, then help break down and stow the camping gear before we set off. How’s the fuel state?”  Frick smiled. “Full up all around, and I ran off an extra ten gallons we can use to top up the aux tanks before setting out. Gear’s all stowed, so that’s out of the way.” “It’s been a fun six months getting this far,” Frieda said as she put a pan of muffins in the oven. “What are we going to do with the boat?” “If we can’t take her with us to Europe, then we will find her a good home in Havana. I admit I’ll miss her, and all the work we have put into care, feeding and maintenance, but I’m sure she’ll find good uses. Havana Harbor Patrol, maybe?” Frick said with optimism. “We can but hope,” Frieda said, checking the vegetable stew pot before going upstairs to see to the pork and fish for the carnivore’s dinner. “Take the muffins out when the timer dings if I’m not down by then.” “Will do, Frieda,” Bernie and Frick chorused. They both enjoyed her corn muffins, and didn’t want to let them burn! That night, over dinner, Frick outlined his plans for the night and tomorrow morning. “We have two options right now, follow the coast to Naples or Marco Island before heading for Key West, or just head right out to sea without hesitating. Opinions?” he asked his crew. Fred looked at Frick. “What can we possibly find there that we don’t already have?” he asked. “Nothing I can think of,” Frick admitted. “Guess I’m still nervous about blue-water sailing. If I was truly paranoid, I would just follow the shore to the Keys, but I’m not that far gone yet.” “Following the shore will give Frieda and I time to finish work on the pork bits, getting them ready for storage. Plus, I got a load of spices to make proper chorizo,” Fran said. “Point to you, Fran. Frack, weather update?” Frick asked. Frack looked thoughtful as he consulted his ‘weather sense’. “Scattered storms, especially in the afternoon. High pressure will move in from the west late tomorrow night, allowing for fair skies for the next few days,” he advised. “Will any of the storms be on our course?” Frick asked. “I can’t say a definite yes or no, but I can say there IS a chance of it. From this distance in time, I can’t be sure,” Frack admitted. All this time, Michie sat on a cushion in the corner, having had her tuna salad up on the bridge earlier, in deference to the ponies. She had a corn muffin and a Coke at hand, and she was tooting on a toy flute she had picked up while shopping. The same five notes, again and again. Fortunately, it was not annoying anyone. Malala, however, picked up on it. “Michie, what are you playing?” she asked. “What I’m feelin’ in my head, Aunt Malala,” the kitten replied as she went back to playing the same piece of music. Frick looked at the little black kitten, nodding as he listened to the notes. “Does anyone else recognize that?” he asked. Fred and Frieda looked at each other. “I know I have heard it before, but it’s not coming to mind,” Frieda said.  Bernie shook her head. “I don’t know it.” The rest of the group all shook their heads. Frick nodded his head to the music as Michie played it a few more times before jumping in. “Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip..” Fran jumped right in. “That started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship…” she sang in a much better voice than Frick. “Ladies and gentlemen, in light of this, I suggest we spend tomorrow taking a beach day in Naples before doing the big jump. All those in favor?” Frick asked. The resounding, unanimous AYE! knocked him off his seat to the floor. “So carried…” Frick groaned before going limp, having smacked his head on the way down. The next day, shortly after the crack of dawn (which was patched by full sunlight), with everything stowed securely, Frick piloted the Deliverance out to sea. About a quarter-mile offshore, he turned the boat to the southeast and went to full throttle. He, and everyone else aboard, wanted to be as far away from Fort Myers as they could. The stout little boat agreed with its crew. At nine in the morning, with Fred at the helm, the Deliverance pulled into a pier on the south side of Gordon Pass, an entry into Naples Harbor. They chose there because if the weather did go foul, there was a ‘windbreak’ of trees and buildings between the sea and the dock. A small patch of beach close by served their purposes well, although Michie did ask to go ‘see the BIG water’ for a while. Once she was happy from looking at the waves, she readily agreed to go to the other side, where Fran took her ‘fishing’ off the pier. Foster and Malala went swimming, Frieda, Frack and Bernie hunting (not that they expected to find anything), Fred fished with Fran, and Frick did what he wanted to do- nap on the beach, in the sunlight, just chilling. The fliers headed south, enjoying the sunshine and warmth, exploring the island they were pausing at. Frieda spotted the odd motion first in a clearing. “Chickens!” she squawked with joy, pointing a claw in their direction. Bernie and Frack spotted the flock as well. “Want to try for some?” Frack asked. “Let’s try for two, but, let’s find their nests. Anyone for eggs? REAL eggs, not the dehydrated crap?” Frieda suggested. “Sounds good! I’ll go get a carry basket, you two go find the eggs, okay?” Bernie suggested before pivoting on a wingtip and returning to the boat. “She thought of something I didn’t,” Frieda admitted. “I’ll catch a couple of hens, you hunt for the nests.” “Right,” Frack agreed. “You can wring a neck better than I can!” By the time Bernie returned, Frack and Frieda were waiting out of sight of the flock, two plump hens and a nest full of eggs with them. “We got lucky,” Frieda explained after Bernie landed with the basket, “They were not afraid of ponies or griffins.” “Hope you know how to pluck them. I sure don’t,” Bernie said as she gave Frieda the basket. “Oh, she does,” Frack confirmed. “Remember, we’re Nebraska farm folk. While none of us were farmers, we all grew up either on or near them. Think we can handle some fried chicken?” “We’ll find out!” Bernie said with a laugh as Frieda put the chickens in the basket, the nest going on top. “Back to the boat for some fun work!” Frieda shouted as she took off, the basket held carefully in a claw. “We’ll meet you there in a while, Frieda! We won’t be much help to you!” Frack said as he grabbed air. “Flight check time, Bernie!” “Coming, Frack!” Bernie replied joyfully, a mere wingbeat behind. The pegasus and thestral spent a happy hour free flying before hunger urged them home, enjoying the sun, wind, flying in general and each other’s company. Hunger, and a radio call from Frieda, saying she’s making three-egg omelets for everyone. During lunch, clouds started moving in from the west. By mid-afternoon, the clouds were thick and black, with lightning visible. When asked, Frack told everyone that the storms will take about ninety minutes to pass over heading east, skies clearing and calming well before sunset. “What about tomorrow?” Frick asked. “Almost identical to today. Clear in the morning, clouding up starting around noon, heavy rains from two to four, then clearing. Pattern should be remaining stable for the next few days,” Frack reported. “Got something in mind, bro?” Frick nodded, then whistled to get everyone’s attention, both in the saloon and downstairs. “Now hear this! All hands and hooves prepare for setting sail at the first light of dawn! That means tents are to be broken down and stored starting at three a.m.! Bernie, you have the midnight watch, I’ll take over at four. With fortune and favor, we will make Key West by mid-afternoon, flipping the feather to whatever the weather has planned! Any questions or comments?” he called out to all. “Little chancy, settin’ out before dawn,” Foster said from the galley. “May ah suggest somethin’?” “Go ahead, Sheriff. I always take advice,” Frick replied. “When we all set out in the dark of dawn, ah suggest we put Bernie up on the bridge to act as a lookout until full daylight. With her low-light-seeing ability, that should give us all an edge,” Foster said to the group. “What do you think, Bernie?” Frick asked, looking at the thestral, who was sitting next to Frack, who had a wing over her. “I think Foster spoke before I could. I was thinking the same thing. Sounds like a good idea to me. I can wake everyone up, see to the tent storage, then settle upstairs as we pull out. One of the better bird-brained ideas I’ve heard since arriving,” Bernie answered, the last part flippantly, looking at Frack. “Who’re you calling bird-brained, you batty biddy?” Frack countered, holding her a little tighter, a smile on his face. “Think about it. You’re not dumb!” Bernie laughed. Frick had to smile as well. His little brother had never been one to have a relationship with girls, ever since he lost his foot as a teenager. To see him flirting with Bernie, and her responding in kind, made him feel a whole lot better about Frack than he had been for a long time. “Okay, then, that’s the plan of the day. So long as someone takes the watch, have fun until dinnertime. I’m going downstairs to see if I can contact someone at HQ who can get me a number for Havana. Now that we’re this close, time to see what we’re getting into.” “Kick back and put your hooves up, Frick,” Fred told his friend. “I’ll take the load today.” “Thanks, Fred. Call me for dinner. Have fun, ponies and others! Take the chance while it’s here!” Frick called out as he went downstairs, his bottle-brush tail twirling happily.