Papers, Please
’So this is what a mortal wound feels like.’ Celestia thought to herself, in a dismissive internal dialogue. ’I thought it would be more… Excruciating.’
A five-meter wingblade was embedded nearly halfway into her chest, and there was no stopping the bleeding. It was a fatal wound, fighting it was futile. Time better spent lamenting her failures to her little ponies.
“…hy sun shall fall at my behest, and night shall reign supreme!”
’Who’s she speaking to?’ Celestia opened an eye, and found a world tinted red. Blood from her forehead was running in a thick trail into both eyes, but she could make out a blurry black and blue visage making grandiose, sweeping motions before her. ’Oh, me.’
It did hurt. It wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt, funnily enough, but it was more than enough to be debilitating. Her breaths came ragged and short, and each rise and fall of her punctured chest left her number than the last. At least one of her lungs was working, and her heart was still beating.
“…luna.”
The room was completely empty. All the ponies responsible for the throne had run for their lives, and though the two royal guards stationed in front were trained to protect the princesses, but there was no directive for a coup of this magnitude. She couldn’t blame them for turning tail.
“-for too long! Finally, I am victorious, dear sister! FINALLY, I WIN!” Luna’s coat was slowly being overtaken by a black ichor, bubbling and swirling up and across her body. The inception of her Nightmare.
“… Lulu.” Weak. Weak and frail, like a ghost filled with regret whispering desperately. Celestia abandoned her eyes, and let her head fall to the floor. The floor was warm at least, if you didn’t mind the blood. Did she hear her? could she hear her? Is this really how it should have ended, is this really mercy?
’I don’t care if she can hear me’ she decided. Before it all came to a close, she raised her head and looked toward where she had last heard the hooffalls of her sister and said the cruelest thing she possibly could.
“It’s okay, lulu. I forgive… you…” Her remaining lung finally faltered, and she didn’t have the breath to say anything more. A dim spark of gold shimmered across her horn as she tried to manually expand her lung, but the spell fizzled out and died as adrenaline left her. Her senses were quickly fading, and the last thing she felt was a peaceful warmth enveloping her; And she resigned to leave Equestria with a whispered prayer for her sister.
- - - -
How am I not the most obese mare in Equestria?
Sixteen bits. I just spent sixteen bits on a triple order of daisy-and-cucumber salad with rye croutons, and a slice of pie.
Spike spent six on a Gemstone Cobbler. It’s not on the menu, but Daisy keeps some gems stashed in the back just for him. I assume she doesn’t make much on the order, since the market price for gems even in bulk isn’t cheap.
I’d know, I buy them in bulk for my baby dragon.
I raise my head off the table to ask Spike if he’s ready to head home, but what escapes my mouth is a drawn out “Spueurrrrgmph….” as I slouch back over the table, cradling my abused stomach with my hooves.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you eat that much in one sitting since the ‘totally legit science experiment’ at Pony Joe’s.” Spike looks me over with more than a little pity, but there’s nothing he can do to save me, I’m doomed to an eternal tummy-ache as punishment for my transgressions on consumer etiquette.
Daisy doesn’t look much more confident in my ability to leave her table when she takes away the 25 bits for our checks, but she’s kind enough to take the check up for us, and assures us that we’re welcome to stay as long as we like need, bless her.
“Give me a minute to parse that and I’ll have a witty retort for you.” I groan, sliding my hooves to he side of my chair and flopping unsteadily onto all fours. Spike might have eaten a bit too much as well, as I see him furling his brow and leaning forward a little bit, tapping a closed fist against his chest. A few seconds later he lists back in his chair and a puff of green dragonfire spews forth, a scroll bearing the royal seal materializing on the table between us.
“Oh, wow. That was fast. She must have been taking a break or something.” Notes spike as he takes a drink of water to wash the lingering flames down with.
I pause for a moment as I reach out for it with my magic. ’If she says no, then something big is happening, and I’m at the middle of it. Something heavily orchestrated and very likely dangerous.’ I hear my heartbeat pick up a bit, but I calm myself quickly.
‘I’m sure it’s fine. Even if she says no, I’m sure there will be some reasonable explanation. A tabloid aired a prepared theoretical story, some unfounded rumor got circulated and ponies took it for fact, and the press will have some huge fine to pay for the confusion.’ I laugh to myself internally. ‘Yeah, that’s totally possible.’
Spike’s staring at me now, and I can tell he can tell I’m worried. I doubt he’s put together all of what I’m thinking, but I shouldn’t worry him, at least not in public.
I break the seal and unfurl the scroll, my eyes going over a few lines of hornwriting blazingly fast. I re-read it, then roll it back up and stick it in my saddlebags and smile to Spike.
“All good, seems like Luna authorized it without mentioning it or something,” I say, breathing out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Spike looks at me, a hard expression fixed on him for a second, then he blinks and springs into life.
“Oh, that’s a relief. Looks like you’re feeling better, ready to head back?” He hops off his chair and starts off toward the library.
“Yeah, I have something to go take care of first though, meet you back there in five?” I throw back casually, but when I turn to look at him something’s off. He’s not looking at me, he’s glancing around, trying to look casual.
“I think I’ll go with you, I haven’t gotten to hear Lyra perform in a few weeks, she should be out today.” He stays put, but still doesn’t look at me.
’He did put it all together that fast, he knows I’m lying, and he doesn’t want me alone. I look at the back of his head for a second. He’s selling the casual disinterest, but he’s tense and his feet are tapping to a steady, non-existent rhythm.
He’s scared.
“Okay, we can go together.” I agree. His foot-tapping stops.
I wave to Daisy as we walk away, and there’s a constant chill down my spine. ’I’m being watched.’ I suddenly realize the scope of that.
‘I’m being watched by an unknown, organized entity of unknown size who are attempting to lure me out of Ponyville.’ I want to grab spike and run, teleport as far as I can and put up twenty layers of my brother’s barrier spells and call for help, but that’s what I would do if I was in a panic, and panicking helps no-one right now.
Think calmly about what to do next. Don’t act suspicious. I don’t know what they’ll do if I openly display I’m onto something. And, before anything, there’s something I need to make sure of.
We enter the market from the opposite end of where I came from last night. The air’s mixed with fresh produce and pastries, but I block it all out. The only product I’m interested in is the Canterlot Times.
Luckily, I see Papers Please chatting up an older what I presume is a couple, based on how they’re leaning against each other. A colt with a light tan coat, and a tiny dark green pegasus that looks like she hit a growth stint early on. I’m pressured to interrupt them, but instead I feign disinterest and trot up to the side of the stand loudly to announce I’m here. Social graces are important right now.
“End of th’ mornin’ Twilight! Spike.” Papers nods to the both of us in turn in the middle of his conversation. He knows how to make a customer feel seen, I’ll sure give him that.
“Be with tha’ both’a ya’ in a sec’,” he promises, as he picks up a few bits on the counter and stashes them away behind the stand.
My thought process here is that if the princess didn’t know anything about what I was talking about, the paper he sold me isn’t from official print. If that’s true, somewhere between the presses and his stand, somebody swapped out a set of fabricated papers. That means that unless somepony had a direct line to the princess, word about the false headlines wouldn’t reach her ears for at least a day, and most likely three, where it would start an investigation of the Canterlot Times facility, and turn up nothing because the culprit is a third party. Maybe I should just ask the prin-
“Miss Twilight? Morning! Or afternoon, like he said,” The colt turns to me, and shoots me a beaming smile. I don’t know him, but I’ve seen him at the library before. I’m pretty sure he rented out…
“Good morning! It’s a bit arbitrary, but by definition afternoon doesn’t start until just after the sun’s past its’ zenith,” I point a hoof straight up, and we all shield our eyes after glancing into the fiery orb in the sky. “So you’re right, we probably have a little bit of morning left.” For a second, I almost forget I’m quite possibly in serious trouble as I explain the subtlety to them.
“Are you getting any use out of the Magic Circle Thermodynamics entry of the Aspiring Mage series?” I ask the colt. I’m hoping he’ll tell me himself who he got it for.
Instead, he just laughs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
“Actually uh, a buddy of mine and I were having a spat about whether magic or science were harder. I just kind of picked a book and started looking it over out of spite, but it’s hard to get what any of it’s about without, you know…” He raises a hoof to his forehead and spins it in circles a few times, indicating his lack of a horn.
“Yeah, a lot of non-unicorn scholars say it took them years to be able to quantify spell components in more familiar terms. Smart Cookie dabbled in it during the founding era of Equestria as a hobby, and she was able to lay a groundwork for Eakinstein and Mage Meadowbrook to create laymans versions of their theories for non-unicorn audiences,” All three of the ponies in front of me are looking at me attentively. I’m sure most of this is over Papers’ head, but the other two are smiling and seem genuinely interested.
“Or something like that, eh-heh…” I trail off, suddenly eager to step out of the spotlight I just stuck on myself. Curse my academic rambling tendencies.
“That’s a might interesting. Bit outta’ date for a conversation starter but I’ll take it!” Papers gives a hearty laugh, thankfully letting me settle back into my own skin for a moment. “So, did ya’ need somethin’, or did you just miss me?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to interrupt, I just wanted to ask you about yesterday’s paper when you have a minute,” I say, taking a little step back as I notice the other two are still here, they must be in the middle of something.
Papers waves his hoof, dismissively. “Ain’t no such thing as interrupting if’n ya’ have something new to say. So, what’s got y’er tongue missy?” He’s leaning on the counter, and made it clear he’s intent on keeping the conversation going. I sigh, not wanting to bring the other two into anything they didn’t sign up for, but I can be vague.
“I was just wondering about yesterday’s Canterlot Times, I didn’t see any official sources cited as far as I could see. You don’t think maybe it was a tabloid rumor that got published on accident or something, do you?” I try to keep a casual, open-ended line hanging, but what I pull off is nervous over-chuckling and shifting back and forth on my hooves as soon as I’m done speaking.
Papers raises a brow. “Y’reckon a tabloid rumor milled a leak to the leading paper, and picked repealin’ a dead-end school a’ magic as the juicy bait?” He blinks at me a few times, the way ponies blinked at me in my younger years when they thought I was just an insane filly ranting about something. I hate that blink, but it kind of strikes me that you’d have to be an idiot to really believe what I just said.
’Way to go, Twilight, you’re blowing this.’ I rapid-fire some follow-ups in my head, but they’re all either obvious excuses or equally as lame ways of going about asking if anything weird happened with this shipment. Okay, panic is definitely setting in now, I haven’t responded in at least ten seconds and I still have no idea how I’m-
“There was this huge ink spill on the inside of the paper, too.” Spike blurts out randomly from behind me. What? There was no ink spill.
“I don’t read the paper too much, but I told her I thought it was really weird. I mean, if I were writing the most prestigious paper in Equestria, I’d at least remember to look them over if somepony spilled stuff on the line.” Spike makes a whole performance with his arms, making big, sweeping motions and turning the whole thing into a show. “And I’ve always had to cite anything I say in my reports, it just seemed really sloppy, y’know? And if anypony would know about weird newspapers, it’s the best informed pony in Ponyville.”
He looks up at Papers like a child asking a parent the meaning of life. Oh stars, he’s playing to his ego and it’s so obvious. Spike, that kind of thing only works in stories, not on real poni-
“Well, lookit that, y’er as sharp as y’er mother, ain’t’cha?” He gives a laugh, but it’s a genuine, hearty one. “Well, mistakes happen sometimes, little dragon. I’m happy to replace the ink’d one with a fresh copy if ya’ want. An’ why they skimped on the sources, maybe it was a setta’ green hooves typin’ it up. Reckon’ they got the riot act, editor too.” He spins his take quickly, and it makes complete sense. The coincidence of it would be astoundingly high if half of what we were asking was true, but it comes so naturally to him that I can’t justify any kind of suspicion. He definitely doesn’t know the story’s fake.
I let out a huge sigh. Maybe it’s just a one-pony operation after all, playing some prank with ill intent. But at least now I know I have enough breathing room to investigate.
“There were sources.” The dark green pegasus suddenly pipes up from the sidelines, stepping around the large tan pony to be able to see everyone. Her saddlebags are about as big as she is, now that I look. She talks fast too, and it’s a bit hard to keep up. “In an external addendum, page 2, row 84, at the bottom of the page. Atom Adams, Jalin Spearhead, and Princess Celestia herself are referenced, either directly or through quotes, and an anonymous source from the mage’s consortium had an anonymous source quoted directly on their displeasure of exclusion”
I blink. Spike blinks. Papers and the other pony probably blink too, but I’m too busy watching her mouth move in double-time while my ears catch up. She stands still, having said her piece, but waits patiently for someone to offer a counter, as if she’s waiting for us to throw a verbal punch.
“Oh, that makes sense, it’s not often papers cite in addendums or footnotes, I’m surprised I missed it. Sorry, we didn’t mean to insult the integrity of the paper if you work there, we just-“
“We have no affiliation with any paper.” She says plainly, interrupting my apology. She either doesn’t realize how rude she’s being, or doesn’t care. I suspect the latter, but whatever her circumstance I want this line of conversation over and buried before it gets any more attention than it already has.
“That’s funny, coulda swore I ‘ad a dozen if the things left, were right ‘ere a minute ago…” Papers has a scowl on his face, and he’s digging through different parts of the stand with his hooves looking for what I assume to be yesterday’s paper.
“It’s okay Papers, I don’t want a replacement or anything, but I appreciate you offering, really.” Spike backpedals a bit, putting his claws up in an open shrug, trying to de-escalate as well. The other two ponies look at each other for a second and then back towards the rest of us.
“We’re gonna hop back-to, mister Papers, thanks for the conversation! Hope you get that deal with Fresh-off-the-Press!” The colt turns and starts trotting away. The pegasus mare lingers for a moment, then turns and quickly takes to the sky in the same direction without a word. As she takes off, I get a glimpse of her cutie mark beneath the bags. A brain in a glass bowl filled with water. It’s a bit creepy, actually. Maybe she’s a surgeon? It’s definitely rare for a non-unicorn to perform delicate and precise surgery, but it’s not completely unheard of.
I turn back to Papers to excuse ourselves as well, but he has a stonewall expression as he stares the way they left, face not moving an inch.
“What’s wrong, is there some bad blood between you three or something?” I ask, a bit concerned. I’ve never seen him this far from his usual bubbly, talkative self.
“Never met ‘em before in m’life.” He deadpans, and i see the edge of his mouth twitch in a momentary frown. “But ah’m pretty sure they jus’ stole all m' copies of yesterday’s paper.”