//------------------------------// // 22. Deeper Waters II – Plans and Preparations // Story: The Ship of State // by marciko322 //------------------------------// I indulged myself for precisely one evening. It had been a long day of dealing with paperwork, brainstorming, fending off Blueblood, and so on, and I was just not feeling up to continuing. For a little while, at least. Instead, I was lying on my couch, nose-deep in a book I’d read thirty times – some ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ knock-off, except instead of a hot-air balloon, the pegasus just flew it all herself. It was actually pretty good, even if the prose was a little simplistic. Not for the first time, I missed an actual, honest-to-goodness wood-fired hearth. Reading a book in a November evening was just not the same without the crackle of wood in a fireplace, but of course I couldn’t dare make one, lest I risked burning my entire house down. So, magic gem it was. Instead, I had cracked open a window just a tiny bit, to chill the room just enough to warrant snuggling under a blanket. Better than nothing. Of course, the magic of the moment was lost somewhat, now that I was living in an actual settlement, and not dozens of kilometres away from one. Peeking out of the windows for a moment showed me far too many near-identical wooden cabins for comfort; the indoors aesthetic clashed rather wildly with the outdoors sprawl, rustic as it may have been. I shook my head clear of those musings, ready to return back to my book, when I heard the front door creak open. “Hello?” I called, peering above my book at the archway to the kitchen. “It’s me,” called Lyra’s voice. I made a small ‘ah’ noise, dropping my attention back to my book. Sure enough, soon a mint-green pony entered the living room, relaxing ever-so-slightly at seeing that I was here, and alone. She quickly trotted over and leapt up onto the couch onto me, hooking her forelegs over my stomach to lie down over me like an affectionate cat. “You alright, Ly?” I asked absently, then, before she could offer a reply, a thought struck me that I had to vocalise. “Where have you been all day? I barely even saw you for breakfast this morning.” “Foals wanted an excursion,” she explained. “Trying to find their marks, you know. They needed the supervision.” I nodded in understanding. A pony getting their cutie mark was something of a big deal to them. Apparently there was some kind of serious psycho-socio-thaumaturgical explanation for it, but I was the wrong kind of egghead to wrap my head around that. All I understood was that it’d tell them what they’d be good at for the rest of their lives – certainly, I could have used something like that in secondary school. Speaking of which… “Was that all they did for the day?” I asked. “I’d hate to insult, but… finding their talent in life is all well and good, but did you find some time to educate them properly too? As in…” “Of course,” said Lyra, flicking her eyes over at me curiously. “Sunny Hooves volunteered to teach the basics in one of the warehouses. All the foals here go there, thrice a week.” “Sunny Hooves?” I parroted. “No relation?” Lyra shook her head – to which I sighed an amused exhale. Course there’d be no relation. He’d have told me. Mustn’t be too many names to go around, for ponies. “Right. So we already have something set up there. Neat. Suppose that’s one thing I can cross off the list.” “What do you mean?” she asked. I snorted. “Part of my job, Ly. Saves Construct the trouble of setting something up herself, if nothing else. You think I could get away without running some kind of education system here? Please. Even if I didn’t have foals, those who did wouldn’t be too pleased. Assuming they didn’t give up and start doing it themselves.” “Oh,” said Lyra. “Yes. I… keep forgetting you are First Minister.” “Thanks,” I drawled. “That means a lot to me.” “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Lyra’s attempt at a serious frown only made me roll my eyes. Still, I relented. “Yeah, I know.” A short silence descended as I got back to my book – though I didn’t get through even a paragraph before Lyra spoke up again. “…How is your work going, Adam?” I blinked, turning to look on Lyra, briefly lost for words. “…Uh. I guess… alright? There’s still a lot to do, a lot for everyone to do. I mean, between the government, drawing up a constitution, figuring out an economy and giving everyone a job they’re happy with, keeping them alive and happy, and everything else I’ll have to do… I’ve kinda got my hands full, for the foreseeable future. Haven’t fucked anything major up yet, on that front at least.” “Are you happy when you do it?” I paused, considering the question. “…Not yet. I’ll be happy when I see it paying off. It’s… really boring. Me, Construct and sometimes Blueblood arguing over what to do next is… an experience and a half, believe you me.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” I smirked down at her. “I doubt it. Unless you’re secretly a bureaucratic mastermind, or you know how to get a room full of ponies who secretly hate each other and most everything they stand for to get along for longer than five spoken sentences, there’s little you could do. Short of offering moral support, or taking minutes down, or fetching coffee. Besides, me sticking you so high up the ladder might send the wrong message to ponies.” “How so?” asked Lyra, giving me her best puppy eyes. “I’m sure I could handle whatever challenges you would put my way.” …Damn it, Lyra. I can’t believe I’m seriously considering this. To be fair, I didn’t have much grounds to deny her on the basis of lacking competence; not just because of my own former deficiencies, but also because I had very little choice in my selection pool for positions in the first place. True, Lyra had little to offer in her CV, but then so did I, and most likely about ninety-eight percent of the rest of the Free State. Even Construct, to a lesser extent – she might have been competent, but she had never helped run a country before – or build one. Not like she was doing now, I mean. Quite honestly, the Free State might well have been an excellent training ground for high-level political leadership. Since the State was still so titchy and new, the bureaucratic workload was massively smaller than even an equivalent Equestrian settlement, who had neighbours and higher-ups and traditions and the Canterlot taxman calling every other month, so to speak. Once the State began to expand properly – assuming it did, anyway – then they’d be settled into their position already, much more familiar with what their work entailed, with the only difference being that they’d be doing their jobs for their entire shifts, instead of only about half an hour followed by five hours of brainstorming setting up a nation-state from scratch like I was at the moment. Not to mention… I snorted in amusement to myself. Even back home, people who had never touched an executive desk in their lives were elected to the highest offices in the land, and they ended up doing alright. Not that there weren’t scores of those who tried that and went down in flames, too, but… again, with the State being so small, the fallout would be much more limited. Besides, I or Construct or someone else in my cabinet could come deck them one to start their brains up again, if needed. So much for rooting around the bins, eh? If there’s one thing I learned from that Uzbekistani longbow craftsmanship forum... Still, I had reservations. For one, Lyra was… I hesitated to say ‘close’ to me, but the fact of the matter was neither of us made much of a secret that we lived together. It would be easy to assume that I was merely engaged in nepotism if I were to give her a ministry, even a secretariat. That, I had already decided, was not going to have any place in the Free State – the sincerity of me asserting that to my people in some future founding speech was going to be tanked if Lyra was next to me up there as well as in my bed. And for two… “I’m sure you could,” I finally said, “but… you know how much time my work takes up. You’d be stuck in that room, or office building soon, for quite a large chunk of the day. Who’d take up looking after our foals?” “…Ah,” sighed Lyra, dropping her head down onto my leg. “Yes, you are quite right. Bowmound’s birthday is coming up soon, you know.” “Yeah, I thoug-” I stopped, blinking stupidly. “…Birthday? What?” Lyra threw me a smug smirk. “That’s right. He keeps talking about it to me. Twenty-ninth of November.” That made me frown. “Twenty-ninth, huh? How come this is my first time hearing about this? He never said a word about it during breakfast.” “…I’m not supposed to tell you this,” began Lyra, leaning in all conspiratorial-like, “but he said he wanted to surprise you with it. Like a reverse surprise party.” “I… don’t think that’s how that works,” I remarked. “Huh. Well, suppose I’d better clear my schedule for it. Twenty-ninth… that’s three weeks, exactly. I’ll have to ask Blueblood for a favour. Turn the surprise around.” Now it was my turn to smirk. “Huh? What do you mean by that?” I didn’t deign to reply, only widening my smirk to something a little more vicious and dropping my gaze back down to read. “Come on, Adam, don’t be like that! What are you planning now?” “What?” I asked defensively. “Can’t a guy plan a surprise birthday party for his foals? Gimme a break, Ly. It’s gonna be great. Not even my kind of job is gonna get in the way of me making my kid’s day.” … …Huh. When did I start thinking of them as my foals? My smirk dropped as I considered the question. When did that start happening? Had that really just… happened? Had the concept of fatherhood simply overgrown me, like a kudzu? Stockholm syndrome generally didn’t apply to parenthood, to my knowledge. Had I simply accepted my new role in life? Still, the more I thought about it, the more I realised I didn’t really care so much. So what if I had two children to look after? That wasn’t going to change much – they’d been living with me for almost half a year by now, calling me their father for a little less. To my shock, I found myself nodding in satisfaction. Yeah. I can do that. I can do that just fine. “Adam?” called Lyra, making me look up at her. “Are you alright?” “Yeah,” I waved her off. “Yeah. Just… alright, fine, laugh it up, Lyra, you wore me down.” Fear not – my glower was playful, entirely unserious. “Wore you down? What?” “Fine. I suppose I shall have to throw a party for my little foal.” I rolled my eyes, hoping for her to catch the meaning in my usual petty round-about speech – which she did, eventually, letting out a little gasp and throwing herself into my torso, shoving my book out of the way to crush me in a hug. “Yes!” she squealed. “I knew you had it in you, Adam!” I snorted into her mane, which was getting in my face something fierce, and gently stroked her back. “You’ll be a great parent, I promise!” “Sure,” I said. “So long as you make sure I don’t spoil them too much.” We shared a little quiet chuckle, as Lyra looked up and into my eyes, giving me a warm smile that I couldn’t help but return. The absurdity of the situation was something else, I tell you what, but I found I really couldn’t care so much either, about an alien wanting me to become a parent to two aliens along with her. Christ, and I thought my friends back on Earth were weird… The sound of the front door opening once more broke the moment. As one, Lyra and I turned our attention to the archway – but it was a sound that reached us first. A little filly had entered my house… and was crying. That had better not be what I think that is, I thought as I all but leapt off the couch and stalked over to the front door, Lyra hot on my heels. As a matter of fact, it was. “Daddy!” wailed Silent Wish, holding up her two forelegs for a hug, bawling her eyes out. The fur on her left leg, usually an earthy brown colour, had streaks of red dripping down it from a cut near the fetlock. “Oh dear,” I said, reaching down for a closer look, and of course to scratch a little behind her ears to give her something else to focus on. “Where did you get this from? Were you snooping around somewhere you shouldn’t have done? Lyra, get my first aid kit – should be in one of the drawers in the living room.” “Got it,” I heard her say behind me and scamper off. “Hey, hey,” I whispered down to ‘my little foal,’ who I was relieved had at least stopped bawling so loudly, now just sniffling as tears ran down her cheeks. “You’ll be okay, Wish. Just a little scratch. It feels worse than it is, you’ll wake up tomorrow morning feeling just fine, I promise.” A little red bag floated over into my peripheral vision suspended in a mint-green cloud, which soon dropped into my outstretched hand. “Where, exactly, did you get that cut, dear?” “I…” Sniffle. “I got it… I tripped on a rock in the forest… I’m sorry…” I nodded. “Okay, Wish. You’re fine, I’m not mad, I promise. I’ll get this cut cleaned up in no time.” Soon, I had pulled out a little roll of gauze from the bag along with a little glass bottle with a faintly-glowing liquid within it. Apparently it was supposed to be a combination painkiller, disinfectant and healing accelerant, but of course it was mostly magic-based and thus I had little use for it myself. This time, though, I carefully uncorked it and poured a few drops onto the gauze to soak it in a little bit like it was iodine solution. “Hold out your leg, please, Wish?” I asked, and she dutifully raised it up for me. I carefully wrapped the gauze around it, making doubly sure my fingers didn’t get anywhere near the wet spots. “Lyra, can you make this stick together somehow?” A green glow briefly covering the gauze made me pull back. I grabbed a cloth to dab away the remaining blood on Wish’s leg. “…That should work,” said Lyra, stepping up next to me and nodding at both of us. “Feeling better now, honey?” “...yeah,” said Wish quietly, looking up at me with shining eyes. Again, she reached out with both forelegs, but this time I obliged her, picking her up and cradling her in my arms. I absently stroked her mane with a hand, muttering quiet reassurances to her to calm her down. I set her down on the couch, as gently as I could, but of course that wasn’t going to satisfy her now, instead choosing to leap back onto my lap, demanding affection I was more than happy to give. Lyra floated the first aid kit back to its place in the drawer, then looked at the pair of us with a knowing smile as she stepped up to us. “You should be more careful next time, dear,” said Lyra. Wish nodded into my shirt. “Yes, Mommy,” came the slightly muffled reply. Lyra chuckled, ruffling her mane briefly with a hoof. “Can you go find Bowmound, Ly?” I asked. “It’s getting pretty late out, and I’d rather not find him worse off, yeah?” “Of course, Adam,” said Lyra, turning away as I picked both my abandoned book and my blanket up from the floor it had landed on after her tackle. I looked down at the filly occupying my lap, smiling. I paused in my finger-work for a moment, making her look up at me with a pout. “Does it feel better now?” I asked, pointedly glancing at the white strip around her hoof. Wish nodded rapidly. “Yes, Daddy,” she said. My smile grew wider. “Good, good. Say… how about I read you a story to make you feel better? Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep tonight?” “Yes, please,” she said, nodding again, even faster this time – making me chuckle outright. “Alright, settle down there, kiddo.” I cracked the book open to the first page, lying down fully so I could hold it open with one hand and pet my filly with the other – who, incidentally, took the opportunity to stretch out on my stomach, looking absolutely adorable. “Okay… okay. ‘Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a little pegasus with a big dream…’” Honestly, at this point, how could I possibly have even pretended to be surprised? “Second Minister.” “Yes, First Minister?” “I asked you to give me three names, to fill three positions. You… have given me eleven. I… wh… no, not ‘why,’ how? How can there possibly be four different candidates for the post of Minister for the Interior? Here, of all places?” Once again, Construct had wildly exceeded my expectations. Well, either that, or the Free State was secretly filled with ponies with twenty years of experience in mid-level bureaucracy, but I figured that was considerably less likely than the former. Apparently, I already had a cabinet fully formed, simply from the… ‘unskilled dross’ was probably a little demeaning, but really, what would high-level government employees be doing coming to me? “Most of those names are for Agriculture, First Minister,” explained Construct. “I figured you would want some leeway for that secretariat, and all of those candidates have great experience in that field.” “…Mmm,” I hummed. “I see. For a second there, I thought you’d already found a pony for every single position I had. I’d almost call you a psychic superhero or something like that.” …Well. I had names, now. Quite a few to choose from, as a matter of fact. Now, though… what was I going to do with them? An internship was not really the sort of thing I was looking for, and I doubted an interview process was entirely appropriate either. I might as well have picked the names out of a hat. “…Would any of these ponies fit any of the other posts better?” I asked. “One might,” said Construct. “Fountain Quill. Unicorn with a paperwork mark, of all things. I believe he’d fit in well just about anywhere, but he’s the only name I have for Immigration & Citizenship.” “Good call,” I agreed. “Lotta paperwork for that, and no mistake. I might well have stuck him with the whole ministry if I wasn’t so spoilt for choice. Your opinion? Who should I pick, d’ya think?” “My opinion?” Construct was rather surprised to hear me ask her, by all accounts. It took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts. “…Ah, I believe for Agriculture… you won’t go wrong with Green Thumb. Knowledge of the field, a decade and a half of experience, as well as some familiarity with government procedure.” “Good enough for me,” I immediately declared. “That’ll be Secretary Green Thumb, then.” “Are… are you sure, First Minister? I just…” “I’m sure,” I replied, a little cheekily. “You recommended him, right? Can’t go too wrong. Besides… so long as he’s co-” “She, First Minister.” “She, sorry – so long as she’s competent, I won’t have any issues. And if she’s not, I’ll replace her with someone who is. Or, at least, might be. We’ll have to keep an eye on them for a few months, while they acclimatise to their new responsibilities. I’ll ask her some questions at any rate, before she takes the post.” “…As you wish, First Minister.” “Mmm.” I caught the disquiet in her voice, but chose not to comment on it. “Fountain Quill can get Immigration, then. Can finally get someone other than Blueblood take care of new arrivals. I’ll have to ask him to bring Quill up to speed. And, then… hmm. Who’d be a good pick for Minister for the Interior? This… Durian fellow?” “An older stallion,” answered Construct. “A somewhat abrasive fellow, but he made a convincing case for his abilities. Apparently he fell out of favour with the Equestrian nobility some years back.” “Mmm,” I hummed. “Not sure how much I like that, to be honest. Interior minister’s gonna have to work together with quite a few ponies; I’d rather not have someone causing unnecessary friction so high up. How about this Whisker chap? They any good at getting along to get along?” “…Yes, actually, First Minister,” said Construct. “She’s quite… agreeable. Unfortunately I can’t say much good things about her experience.” “That can be taught,” I dismissed. “Acquired. I’ll take her under my wing myself if I need to. So long as Interior can interpret what I say and disseminate that properly to the secretariats, and throw what they report back up to me, that’s just fine. So… let’s try Whisker, then.” “As you wish, First Minister.” ...Huh. Picking government employees is easier than I thought. I set the paper down on my desk, underlined the three ponies I’d selected so I wouldn’t forget, and turned back to Construct, who was peering at me quizzically. “Right, that’s good. Keep on the lookout for any other ponies that might fit the remaining positions, yeah? Don’t make it a priority unless it becomes one, I mean. Just let me know if you find some pony who’s a perfect candidate for one.” “Yes, First Minister.” “Good.” I clapped, sighing heavily. “Good. Now. What I’d like for you to do now, is pick a few ponies… a dozen. Maybe two. Randomly, from the whole population. I want to know what the people want out of the Free State. Make sure Blueblood gets the memo; I’ll want you there too. ‘Bout time I called an actual convention for the bloody founding document of the nation, eh?” Construct tilted her head, eyes widening slightly. “First Minister?” “Gotta know what to enshrine,” I remarked glibly. “Fuck actually knows how the country’s gonna be run, right? Suppose we ought to figure that out quickly. Cabinet’s all well and good, but…” It was a few things, really, that were pushing me to go forward so quickly. I was still running the place more like a warlord than a First Minister – through force of personality, and my (apparent) popularity with the unwashed masses, rather than military might, but still. That sort of style just wasn’t for me. Not to mention people could go and do things and solve problems for me, rather than me doing it all myself. The real benefit, though, was that I could finally start making good on my promises, and start building up my people to bigger and better things – the Free State Dream, if one was feeling poetic. Building a community where people stood side-by-side, linked in brotherhood, those prospering giving to those who need it… without all the bollocks Equestria was going through, I mean. Hmm. Maybe I could rip off those six founding tenets of Equestria, too – just with more sensible ones. I mean… laughter? I shook myself out of it. “Yes, right. Grab a few ponies who know what they would be talking about. Er, no, actually, make sure there’s a few… shall we say, less politically-orthodox individuals, too. Not too many – I’d like to mostly focus on the common pony. Y’know… like Hooves and his, come to think of it. Hmm…” I wonder what he’s up to, now? Haven’t talked to him in a long while. Where does that sneaky bugger live? “Yes, First Minister,” replied Construct with a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Good, good.” Just as Construct was about to turn away, I snapped my fingers, sort of, getting her attention again. “Wait, just one more thing. Can you fetch Blueblood for me? I’ve got a favour I need to ask him, as soon as possible.” “What? Why?” she asked. I smiled coyly. “…No reason. Incidentally, I’m taking the twenty-ninth off. If you’re gonna gate-crash my kid’s party, you better have a damn good reason for it. Would you be fine taking over for the day? You know, just in case something does come up.” “…Of course, First Minister,” said Construct, smiling thinly herself. “I’ll let the Ambassador know. When should I table the convention for?” “Oh…” I frowned. “Er, honestly, I don’t really know. A week, maybe? I should have a list of issues by then. Yeah, make it a week. Have it… er, office’s not quite ready yet, is it? Find a warehouse that’s mostly empty, we’ll make do.” “Seventeenth, then, First Minister,” said Construct. “So long as the Ambassador finishes his favour for you before then, if I may remind you.” “I’m sure it won’t take that long,” I dismissed. “It’s only a bakery. Won’t take that much convincing to invite Celestia here, either. We’re pretty good friends, you know.” Construct’s flinch threw me off. “…Are you sure that is a good idea, Ad- ...First Minister?” At my more inquisitive frown, she continued. “I mean, I’d hate to get in the way of your personal plans, but… ahem. Are you planning to invite Night Gown to your party?” I blinked, parsing the meaning behind her words. Then, a grimace of disgust replaced my frown. “Feh. She already knows I’m close with the Princess, and she hasn’t said a word yet. My personal life’s none of her business, anyway. It’s a birthday party, for fuck’s sake. Grow up.” My tone apparently convinced Construct to back off – figuratively and literally. “…Yes, First Minister,” she said. “I’ll… go carry out my duties, then.” I nodded, and turned back to my desk. Hmh. Construct just had to bring up the thestrals, didn’t she? In truth, I still had no idea what to do about them. No doubt, with what I was planning to do with my State, I might well eventually establish an actual relationship with their little group. Letting thestrals run around freely in the State was going to raise more than a few eyebrows, here and in Equestria, but at the same time I had promised – agreed, even – to let them stay here without persecution, based on their tribe anyway. I had considered the idea of a segregated settlement just for the thestrals, but… as good as the idea might have been in terms of making first steps, it was still rather… gross. For one, I was going to have to keep a very close eye on anything that was going to happen in that place, which was undoubtedly going to chafe. And for two, it still wasn’t really going to solve the underlying problem - Which, I was only now realising, was not, in fact, their tribe. Where did this myth of thestrals, blood-sucking night bats, even come from? If my suspicions were correct, the average Equestrian was hundreds and hundreds of years removed from even the last sighting of a thestral on their soil. No doubt their being persona non grata had a hand in that, but still – how can you grow past prejudice like that if your great-great-great-grandfather hadn’t even seen one in person himself, and all you had was children’s stories? Fuck, at this point just letting them run around freely might well have been the revolutionary step needed in the first place. Sticking one in my cabinet with most ponies still thinking that of them was certainly going to cause a massive political shitstorm, on both sides of the border. But, at the same time… I sighed. The fact of the matter was… Night Gown had told me that “a few weary” thestrals had settled here. I was able to read the subtext of that statement just fine – there were not so many thestrals willing to forsake their goal and live lives of peace under me. I still had no idea exactly how large the Corps really was, and by extension how many thestrals there were, but an entire sub-species surviving for a thousand years in those kinds of circumstances told me it couldn’t have been just a few scattered cells. In any case, there were still lots and lots and lots of thestrals out for blood. Now, I didn’t think of myself as a diplomatic mastermind of any calibre whatsoever, but if there was a chance I could prove that ponies and thestrals could settle their differences and live together as equals… The pieces fit together in my head, I figured. If I could show both sides that neither had anything to fear from the other – dismantling this ridiculous ‘vampony’ myth on the one side, and proving that ponies hadn’t anything against them on the other – well, perhaps the whole root of the thestral cause would shrivel away and die. Letting thestrals walk around interacting with ponies, maybe working alongside them, that would be enough, right? Maybe just for the Free State, at least. An Equestrian Good Friday Agreement would be the best outcome for both sides, right? Of course, the real challenge would, as ever, be in the implementation. Perhaps the ponies of the Free State had less to fear and more to bond over, since both sides held a disdain for the Equestrian system, but… there was still the chance my people would go batshit crazy (hehe) and start pogroms. Equestria might not have kind things to say, either, unless I really made a show of them bowing down and letting peace ram them up the jacksie… so to speak. Not to mention what the Corps itself would think of such a proposition. I was sure they’d have been fine with peace within the Free State, but… and what about their Empress? The creak of the door opening behind me put a quick stop to that train of thought. “First Minister?” called Blueblood’s voice. “You called for me?” “Yes, I did,” I replied, smoothly shoving my musings back into a box at the back of my mind for later. I still had plenty of time to think about the issue – and certainly I had bigger ones to concern myself about in the present, too. “I apologise for the somewhat frivolous request, but I have a little favour to ask of you.” “What do you need, First Minister?” asked Blueblood. “A few things, Ambassador,” I started. “First off, do you happen to know what the best bakery in Canterlot is…?”