The thrall was odd. The pony was an Earth, which was neither new nor special, but something about the helmet had changed. Its shape was rounder, slightly more compact than usual. Its metal and dull crystals looked more or less the same, but the energy they emanated felt different. The ponies who’d brought it into the Pit waited in silence as Lieutenant Mask completed his inspection. ‘What do you make of it?’ he aimed at their sergeant.
‘It’s the shape, sir,’ replied the sergeant.
‘Yes.’
‘A change of design.’
Mask frowned. ‘But why?’ He scanned the thralls chained to the wall. ‘Why would Sombra change it? They already obey him completely!’ He paused. ‘To make them harder to remove?’ he suggested. The sergeant shrugged.
‘Maybe, sir.’
Mask sighed and nodded. ‘Well, as luck would have it, we have a liberator in the regiment – Major Masterduke. Send one of your lot to fetch him for me. I want his opinion on this.’
‘Yes, sir. Twinkle? Off you pop.’
‘Yes, sir.’
At Colonel Comet’s tent Twinkle saluted the sentry, who saluted too. ‘Lieutenant Mask requires Major Masterduke,’ said Twinkle.
‘Major Masterduke has been arrested,’ the sentry told him. Twinkle blinked.
‘Arrested?’
‘Yes.’
‘But – why?’
‘I don’t know. An officer, Major Honey, came with a warrant. Colonel Comet’s dealing with it.’
‘May I see him?’
‘In you go. Good luck.’
‘Thanks.’
Colonel Comet stood at his desk, absorbed in paper. ‘What is it?’ he grunted without looking up.
‘Private Twinkle, sir, for Lieutenant Mask – he wants to see Major Masterduke, sir, but I’ve just been told he’s been arrested.’
Colonel Comet glared at Twinkle, who swallowed. ‘What does Mask want him for?’
‘It’s the helmets, sir.’
‘What?’ snapped Comet.
‘The helmets – we turned in our thralls, and many of them are wearing different helmets. Lieutenant Mask wants Major Masterduke’s opinion.’
Comet sighed. He shook his head. ‘Lieutenant Mask will have to wait,’ he grunted. ‘Major Honey –’ he spoke the name through gritted teeth ‘– has indeed arrested him, is interrogating him – and until she’s finished, he is as good as absent.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The helmets are “different”. What’s different about them?’
‘I don’t know, sir. The shape looks different, but we have no idea whether the effects are different. They fought just the same when we caught them, sir.’
Comet closed his eyes and sighed deeply. ‘And Masterduke’s the only pony in the regiment who can tell us,’ he muttered. He thumped his desk. ‘Honey be damned. I’ve had enough of “Solitaire”. She can mess around once the real work’s been done.’ He scribbled an order and gave it to Twinkle. ‘Take this to Major Honey, and bring Major Masterduke back with you to see the helmets,’ he commanded. ‘The narrows, third fissure to your left. Dismissed.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Twinkle saluted and left. He trotted from the cave to the fissure Comet had indicated, entered and slowed. It was tight and tall. He wound through it, paper clamped between his teeth. After a couple of minutes it widened rapidly and opened into a series of narrows. Red uniforms leaned against the entrance to one of them, as though their owners were lounging, and Twinkle approached, preparing to salute again.
He froze. His mouth fell open. The order fell to the floor.
‘Leaving, are you?’ said Starburst. Masterduke spun around frantically. He’d been snatching up his belongings, stuffing his bag with what rations he had left. He saw Starburst. He blew air and his shoulders slumped.
‘Leaving. Yes. Yes. Yes, I am.’ Masterduke was breathing heavily. Starburst nodded.
‘What did she want?’ he asked.
‘Who, Honey?’
‘Who else?’
Masterduke chuckled. ‘Solitaire, of course,’ he giggled.
‘I thought so.’ Starburst worked his mouth. Masterduke glared at him. ‘So, you’re getting away,’ continued Starburst, ‘before she catches up. Flanks.’ He worked his mouth. ‘Honestly, professor? I hoped you would. This way it ends, and no one else gets hurt. I don’t have to keep your secrets, and you can go –’ he half-spat ‘– and be whatever you want to be.’
‘You told her!’ Masterduke hurled at him, eyes popping. Starburst frowned.
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Starburst,’ hissed Masterduke. ‘Not you.’
Starburst scowled. ‘I never told her.’ He glared darkly at Masterduke. ‘And you want to know why? It’s because I thought about it, and I realised it’s exactly what you’d do,’ he sneered. ‘You accused me of being a “pragmatist”. Flanks! Well, look in the mirror! You know, I didn’t think your little lecture would change anything, but it looks as though it did! You were right. I will keep my word, and it’s for my own sake, not yours. Because you know where it leads you, if you do what’s convenient?’ He sniffed, scowling. He worked his mouth. ‘Look no further,’ he growled.
Masterduke blinked. ‘But –’ he hesitated ‘– she told me you told her,’ he muttered.
Starburst frowned. He looked at Masterduke. He shrugged. ‘Well, I didn’t.’ Masterduke goggled at him, eyes wide as plates. He half-snorted, half-sobbed.
‘Then –’ He sniggered. ‘It was all just a bluff?’ he breathed. He chuckled. He leaned back his head and laughed. Starburst stared at him. ‘Goodbye, Starburst,’ said Masterduke eventually, beaming. ‘Enjoy playing by whatever rules you choose. Enjoy your ribbons.’ He chuckled again. ‘I’ve chosen mine.’
Five minutes later Twinkle came pelting toward Colonel Comet’s tent, gasping for breath, wide-eyed and trembling. ‘Colonel, sir!’ he wheezed. ‘The squad! It’s Major Honey, sir! She’s dead! They’re all dead!’
Meanwhile, Solitaire turned to examine the fissure he’d exited. He grinned, then cantered away into the dunes, into the gleaming sun.
Only one pony sat in the office. Behind a desk was an empty chair. On the walls were photographs, framed certificates and a pencil sketch – a schooner on a calm sea. The carpet was grey and sterile. Files and stationery sat on shelves. A gable-green metal cabinet leaned against high wooden skirting. Beside it drooped a flag on its pole. The pony’s coat was light grey and her mane mulberry and indigo. Her work clothes were worn but clean, with neatly made turn-ups and a bowed headband. She sat as though the world was right. She hummed, blinking, her large eyes wandering across the room. The door opened and she turned without getting up. A pony wearing a colonel’s uniform limped forward and, sighing, dropped into the seat. He rearranged some papers, pulled some forward, pushed others aside and read something briefly. The pony who had waited smiled. ‘So,’ said the Colonel. ‘My adjutant tells me you think you know who Solitaire is and that you think he is still at large.’
‘Hello, Colonel, and yes, that’s right.’
‘Well?’
‘He is not some supernatural being, as the stories portray him. He’s a forgotten spellmaker, a former major named Masterduke.’
‘What in Celestia’s name led you to that conclusion?’
‘Oh, a lady has her ways.’
‘Really. You. A seamstress.’
The pony smiled. ‘I’m really rather good at investigating,’ she said. ‘I think that, with a little time and some thought – and some good ponies with me – I could track him down.’
‘Well, you certainly appear to have a knack for knowing things you shouldn’t. What was your name again?’
‘Rarity.’
‘Alright, then, Rarity – let’s say Solitaire’s still at large. I want to know where he is, and I want to know what he’s doing. Report to Captain Snow, head of the investigation. And if he’s satisfied with your information and your ways, then show us what you can do.’
‘I would be delighted, Colonel.’
‘And, Rarity –’
‘Yes?’
Colonel Tango sighed. ‘I wish you luck. You have big horseshoes to fill.’