The realization that humans are omnivores must have been hard on early person-pony relations. Maybe it still is for Equestrians. Having grown up with people, it didn’t bother me. Well, actually it did when I was in college and, “try to trick the pony into eating meat” had been a game everyone played. They’d succeed a few times, too. If nothing else, it was hell on the digestion.
I did like barbecue, though. A smart restaurant will offer their house sauce with vegetables or bread as an alternative to meat. Piggy’s in Norfolk was such a place. The proprietor was a native of North Carolina, so the sweet tea was spot-on. The seasonings were like nothing else on Earth. Or Equestria, for that matter.
At lunch, Andy told me his schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he was able to sneak away early. Monday, Wednesday and Friday his classes kept him from it.
The waitress came by and took our orders. She seemed to wonder why Andy and I were so cordial. Most ponies hadn’t been on Earth long enough to be old friends with a person. Me, I'd been born here.
I liked Andy because he was lucky, and occasionally that rubbed off on me. All his classes had lined up perfectly and he was able to graduate college in two and a half years. He didn’t need to work because of big scholarships. He’d started tutoring Japanese, and had gotten an unexpected promotion when one of the professors over him quit suddenly. While he wasn’t officially qualified for the position, the management had overlooked it because he did a good job. In his spare time, Andy wrote detective novels under a pseudonym. They were generally well-reviewed and provided him some extra income. On top of all that, he’d hooked up with a woman through World of Warcraft who turned out to be a British porn star that was considerably wealthier than he. Her name was Hawker Hurricane, and she actually didn’t mind being seen in public with Andy.
Our food came. Andy, lucky as he was, managed to eat a plate of sauce-coated ribs without soiling his professor clothes. Between bites, he said, “The studio called. They still want to do a shoot on your boat. They might even title the film Troublemaker.”
“We’ve been over this before,” I said. “No porn on my property.”
Andy grinned to show that he’d been kidding. “When are you going to pull that old boat out of storage?”
I shrugged. “Mostly it just sits there tied to the pier. Mom and dad did a little cruising, but I haven’t.”
“It’s an expensive buoy,” said Andy. His phone rang. We were in an isolated corner of the restaurant, so he set it on the table, propped it up so the screen was visible, and continued eating. “Hi honey. I’m having dinner with Sail.”
“Good to know you boys are keeping each other company,” said Hawker with her distinctive voice. She was displayed on the video screen on the phone, wearing a robe and probably not much else. She fluffed her blonde hair. “I heard you had a spot of relationship trouble, Sail.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I said. “So how have you been?”
“Another long, hard day,” she answered. It was a joke I had heard before.
Hawker and Andy continued talking for a while, making plans for a Warcraft raid that night. My thoughts turned to the Larsons. I pulled out my own phone and did a little searching. I was eventually able to track down both Phil and Tabitha through various social media sites. Both of them seemed security-conscious, and didn’t give up much information.
I’m an engineer, not a hacker. I had no idea where I should begin if I wanted to dig deeper on someone. Andy finished up his call about the same time I got bored of finding nothing of value.
After lunch, we got in Andy’s car and drove to where Tabitha worked, parking in about the same spot where I had been the day before. We got there at about five to three.
“Are you going to the reunion?” asked Andy, making conversation.
It took me a moment to remember what he was talking about. The get-together for the five year anniversary of our high school graduation was only a few weeks away. I’d gotten an invitation, but had forgotten.
“Probably not. I wasn’t well liked.”
“Just because you were the rich kid doesn’t make you an outcast. Heck, even if they don’t like you personally, they should at least flock to the money.”
“Maybe. I’ll talk it over with my therapist.”
“She’ll tell you that you should go.”
“Probably.” I decided that I wouldn’t go.
A few minutes passed and Tabitha Lawson showed. I pointed her out to Andy. He nodded, and did a quick check of his mirrors to make sure they hadn’t come out of alignment while we had been sitting still. When she drove past, he pulled out and followed.
I will say this about Andy: there is very little he isn’t good at when he sets his mind to it. He followed Tabitha at a distance of about a block. He always kept in position hiding behind another car, and timed the traffic lights perfectly. He made it look easy.
Tabitha got home and parked in the garage. Andy stopped the car about a block away. He was still wearing his jacket and commented that he felt warm. I told him to roll down the windows.
After he shut the car off, it was fairly quiet. To the south, I could hear traffic from U.S. 60. To the north was the sound of waves breaking on the beach and seagulls. The traffic made the rest hard to hear.
I had told Andy about how long we had to wait, but he seemed excited nonetheless. He reached into the back seat and came out with a case that contained a set of high powered binoculars.
I thought we looked suspicious enough to be sitting in a car in a suburban beachfront neighborhood without the binoculars, but didn’t say anything. When Andy realized there was nothing much to see, he put them away.
»«
Andy woke me up. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He told me someone had just pulled in at the Larson house. While I was asleep, I’d slid down in the seat and the belts were digging in.
I sat up. It was Neil’s car in the driveway. I checked the clock. It was about time for him to be home.
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s the husband.”
“We’re off duty now?” he said.
I laughed. Andy drove me back to my car. He told me he’d be ready for Thursday. I drove home. Previously, I had decided to take my boat out in the morning, so I spent some time making sure it was ready.
My parents had bought Tiger Lilly about four years before under a different name. After they were gone, the boat had gone to me along with the family business. They’d also left a one hundred twenty foot yacht, but that was far too large to keep tied up behind the house in Edgewater Haven. The larger vessel was called Troublemaker, supposedly after me.
The smaller boat had a five liter inboard engine that would move it at any speed you wanted. The exterior was white with a lot of chrome and polished maple decking. I boarded Wednesday morning with my camera and some lunch. The camera was Nikon’s newest hoof-compatible model. The lunch was a sandwich and a beer.
I slipped the lines and shoved off. Once I reached the no wake buoy, I advanced the throttle. Edgewater Haven connects to the Elizabeth River, which forms part of the greater Chesapeake Bay and Hampton Roads Harbor area. The river joins the bay just south of the Navy base.
I often went to Naval Station Norfolk to think. I suppose I wasn’t actually obligated to do any real work for the company, but more money for them meant more money for me. I found that if I took a look at the ships, it helped me to visualize improvements the company could sell to the Navy.
I held to the east of the Norfolk Harbor Channel. The Navy piers that had ships tied up to them had a string of floating rope that encircled the area, drawing a clear “keep out” line. There was an engine exhaust system on Arleigh Burke-class destroyers that I had been thinking about. I moved down the row until I found one of them tied to the pier.
Cutting the engine, I let the boat drift a little. The channel was about fifty feet deep and there was no danger of running aground. I picked up the camera. After I finished shooting what I wanted, I began taking pictures of the rest of the ship. I might think about something later and want to have a photograph.
I was so busy taking pictures that I didn’t notice the Navy security boat until it came alongside. There were four men aboard. It was one of ours, actually, the Model 28 Utility. The company had sold the Navy eight of them for patrolling Norfolk. It was a twenty-eight foot aluminum v-hull with a pair of 250 horsepower outboard engines. It had a windshield and roof over the wheel and hard points for mounting weapons on the bow. There were no machine guns attached, but three of the men carried M16 rifles.
“You’re trespassing on military property,” said one of the men.
“I’m still outside the rope.” While I had been drifting, the wind had pushed the boat up against it.
One of them said, “You’re going to have to leave.”
“I’m not done taking pictures,” I protested
The man who was doing the talking grinned. “Fine. You’re under arrest.”
One of the men reached across to grab the handrail of my boat. Once he had pulled the two boats together, two of them boarded. When David had asked me not to do anything stupid, this was probably what he meant.
Their handcuffs wouldn't fit, so they tied me with the anchor line and put me in their boat. One of the men tied a rope to my craft and they towed it back to the security boat docks.
On the way, one of the men took my ID and began telling someone my information over the radio. When we got to shore, two more sailors were there to meet us. They helped the others secure my boat and took me ashore. The patrol boat went back out.
I was taken into the security building and they put me in a windowless room with a table and two chairs. After a few minutes, a man came in. He was older than everyone else I’d seen that day. I suspected that meant he was in charge. The name tape on his uniform said McCullough. He sat down at the table across from me. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Taking pictures of a destroyer,” I said.
McCullough seemed a little taken aback by my straightforward answer. “Why?”
I shrugged. “My company built half the things on it. I was doing a quality control inspection.”
Somewhat cautiously, the man asked, “Your company?”
“Norfolk Shipworks,” I explained. “I’m Sail Canvas, company president and majority shareholder.”
He looked at me. I might have been in the neighborhood of half his age. He laughed.
“I’d like to talk to Rear Admiral Nevis,” I said. “He won’t appreciate a direct call from you guys though, so call his aide, Chief Stanton.”
“What makes you think he wants to talk to you?” asked McCullough.
“He knows me,” I said simply.
The man regarded me for a moment. He appeared to come to the decision that dealing with me was above his pay grade, and he walked out. I waited for maybe twenty minutes. Eventually the door opened and McCullough showed Admiral Benjamin Nevis in and left me alone with him.
Nevis was in charge at Naval Station Norfolk. He was of average height and thin. He still had his hair but it had gone grey. There was a silver star on the collar of his khaki uniform. His most prominent feature was his nose. It was huge. Nevis had been a pilot, and I was willing to bet that his call sign had probably been “Nose.” It was that distinctive.
Nose wasn’t happy to see me. We’d met on unfavorable terms before. He asked me what I had been doing. I told him what I’d told McCullough.
“Give me one good reason not to prosecute you,” he growled.
“I noticed that your Model 28 patrol boats are using an older version of the electronics suite. Norfolk Shipworks has a newer system available and would be happy to retrofit them free of charge.” I smiled.
He stared at me for several seconds and then shook his head. “Get the hell out of here.”
He opened the door and we exited the room. A sailor handed me my camera back. The pictures had been deleted. Nevis left without another word.
I was escorted back to my boat by the same security team that had brought me in. They took me out to the edge of Navy restricted waters. I was instructed to go fly a kite, or words to that effect.
“I don’t even know how a pegasus got into the shipbuilding business,” one of the men muttered.
How I was born to a family of seagoing earth ponies was a long story that probably involved some adultery. Mom and dad didn’t really like each other, and sometimes I think dying in a plane crash gave both of them some much-needed peace and quiet.
Rather than explaining all that, I instead answered, “Well, I don’t know how a monkey got into the Navy.”
The four men were remarkably less courteous after that. When I was finally released from custody, I found that my sandwich had been tromped flat by a boot, and my beer had been poured out onto the upholstery. The anchor line I’d been tied with had disappeared, and there were scuffs on the side of the boat where someone had neglected to use fenders when tying up to the pier.
It hadn’t been the greatest of experiences, but any day you can talk your way out of doing time in federal prison can’t be too bad.
That afternoon, I followed Tabitha in my truck. It was a huge black Dodge that I drove maybe twice a month. I only used it for pulling my boat trailer and hauling large things. Both rarely happened because the boat seldom left the water and I would rather pay people than do things myself. I’m wealthy. Hate me.
I preferred to drive the car, but the truck had the advantage that Tabitha had never seen it before. On my way to her office, I stopped for fuel. I didn’t remember how long ago I had last put diesel in the tank. I should have gone to a truck stop. Most regular gas stations have diesel pumps with small diameter hoses attached to them. Filling a thirty-five gallon tank takes forever.
I was late. I knew it when I drove by the office. Her car was already gone. I figured it was just my luck that this was the day she would sneak off. I drove the route she usually took back to her house. I did significantly more than the speed limit.
I didn’t catch up, but her car was in the driveway when I got there. I calmed down and settled in to wait. As usual, I left when Neil arrived.
I was beginning to have doubts that Tabitha had an extramarital relationship. She hadn’t done anything to make me suspicious. On top of that, women seemed to be better at hiding the fact that they were sleeping around. At least that was my personal experience. I thought that Tabitha must be upset about something else.
Thursday came. I dressed a little better than usual for my weekly company meeting, which is to say I put on a polo shirt with the company logo. It was still legal for ponies to go without clothing, so I didn’t really need to, but I thought the board of directors disliked me enough without adding personal appearance to the mix.
I had a reserved spot in the parking lot. From the door, it was a short walk to the elevator. The conference room was on the top floor with a view of the bay.
There were three men and a woman seated at the table when I got there. I wasn’t late, although it was close. I sat down at the head of the table.
The director of sales began to read from a few of the files he’d brought with him. His name was George Coates. All of the members of the board were in their fifties or sixties and well dressed, so individual physical descriptions were irrelevant. George informed us that revenue for this quarter was probably going to exceed revenue of last quarter.
Next up was Leon Vanke, the director of marketing. He talked about placing an advertisement in the Navy Times. It wouldn’t generate direct sales, but it would be good for morale and would let the military know just who was working for them.
Sharon Cotter was the director of internal affairs. Her comments were about how many employees the company had hired, fired and retired and how many more of each were needed to balance things back out.
Lastly, John DeMotte gave a rundown of Research and Development’s activities. It seemed that we were almost ready to begin testing our new gas turbine intake silencers.
Everyone looked at me.
“I took a trip to the base yesterday,” I said. “Admiral Nevis mentioned that he was having some problems with the electronics package in his Model 28s. They’re still under warranty, so I told him the company would replace them with the newest model. While I was there, I wandered down to the piers. There were a few things I thought about.”
I pulled out my notebook and pretended to read from it. I had memorized what I wanted to say, but thought that since everyone else had notes, I shouldn’t show them up.
“I don’t think we’ve ever taken a good look at the Arleigh Burkes to see what we can accomplish. They cut down the exhaust heat signature, but I think we might be able to do a little more. Also, we might think about starting a radar division in the company. The Aegis system is the best in the world, but it’s old. Lockheed’s had the monopoly on that for too long.”
There were nods around the table. Yes Men, all of them. Still, putting up with them was easier than running the company myself. Internal affairs could easily be taken care of by the various department heads instead of a director. Marketing, why did we need it? The customers already knew who we were. What was so hard about Sales? Pay us money, and we’ll give you a product. Sure, I could do it myself, but why bother?
Of them all, though, John Demotte’s title of director of R&D was probably hanging from the thinnest thread. I had gone to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology for a degree in mechanical engineering. I actually knew what I was talking about. Quite a few ideas from me had gone on to become successful projects. Not only that, but I had patented them. I really could run it myself.
I knew that none of the directors liked me. I showed up once a week and got paid. The only thing I had done to deserve it was be born to the right family. On top of that, I probably did treat them like lower forms of life. From a social point of view, an outside observer would probably find it fascinating how we all managed to work together and put a thin shell on the loathing going on below the surface. It was there, and we all knew it.
When the meeting broke up, I left as quickly as possible. Part of it was a desire to get out of the formal clothes. Part of it was that I wanted some animal crackers.
I met Andy that afternoon. He’d changed into a different outfit than his usual, jeans and an ODU Lions t-shirt. He also took off his glasses. It didn’t change the fact that we were still looking suspicious while sitting in a car watching a house, but at least his elbow pads didn’t draw stares.
“Has she done anything interesting at all this week?” asked Andy.
“No. I suppose I might watch her this weekend, but if nothing else happens, I’m going to quit.”
For four days now, I’d watched Tabitha be a normal human being. It was really getting on my nerves. I figured that with more free time on the weekend, she might be more likely to visit her boyfriend – if he existed – but I wasn’t sure how I would go about keeping track of her. Sitting outside the house waiting all day Saturday and Sunday didn’t sound like something that I wanted to do even if I was being paid to.
“So what do you think is happening if she isn’t cheating?”
I shrugged. “The damage to her car was interesting, but if Neil didn’t make a connection, there might not be anything to it.”
We lapsed into silence. This time, Andy fell asleep first.
Friday morning it was raining. I stayed inside and watched it fall for most of the day. It kept kept up until about the time I was leaving to go watch Tabitha. The sudden clear skies suited me just fine. I parked in my usual spot across from her building.
When it came time, Tabitha exited the building looking a little different that I remembered. She seemed a little preoccupied, more than most people would be on a Friday. She got in her car and left the parking lot.
At the corner, she made a left. I was so surprised that I nearly missed the turn. This was new. I followed further back than I normally did. Maybe the sudden change of circumstance made me more cautions.
Tabitha followed a path that only she knew. It was definitely not towards her house.