//------------------------------// // August 31 – 7:45 AM // Story: Flash Fog // by Kwakerjak //------------------------------// “Two hours?” “That’s correct, Mr. Pusher.” “Two hours?!” “Well, more like two hours and fifteen minutes. There’s a good chance the meeting might run a bit long, given the circumstances.” Pencil Pusher’s left eye began to twitch sporadically. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, breathing as deeply as he could while he slowly counted to ten. There was no reason to get angry at the receptionist; it wasn’t her fault that the executives at Caligo Manufacturing wouldn’t talk to him. In fact, it might not even have been their fault. After all, their factory did sustain major structural damage, and they’d lost some rather expensive pieces of equipment. One could hardly blame them for wanting to get their house in order before dealing with the problems of others. The bureaucrat looked back up. “I, uh, I did mention that I’m with the Department of Weather, right?” “I believe so.” Well, so much for name-checking, Pencil Pusher thought. He did his best to push this setback out of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that he was tired from working for nearly twenty-four hours straight or that nearly eight of those hours were spent flying (making him feel even more exhausted). He finally allowed the tension in his forelegs to slacken—he hadn’t even noticed it building up. This wasn’t a setback. It was more like a break, really. A two-hour break. The bureaucrat smiled. He liked the sound of that. “That’s okay, I guess,” he finally answered. His break began now, so he could relax. “Incidentally, who are they meeting with?” It was small talk, sure, but Pencil Pusher was relaxing, and the receptionist was pretty cute. It was also a mistake. “Oh, just some representatives from our public relations firm.” “Are you kidding me?! They’re making a pony from the DOW wait for two hours so they can talk to their PR guys?!” “If there’s a problem—” “No, forget about it,” Pencil Pusher interrupted. “Listen, I’m really, really tired right now, so I’m going to go over to that comfy-looking chair, sit down, and try to catch some Z’s. I want you to wake me when whoever’s in charge is ready to meet me, and if I find out that he or she can’t talk to me, or that I’ve slept through my only chance to talk to this pony all day, I will more than likely do something unpleasant. Understand?” “Um... I think so....” “Good. I’ll see you in two hours, then.” August 31 – 7:46 AM Even though Rainbow Dash was still feeling irritated by Fluttershy’s rather obvious lack of judgment with regards to Pinkie Pie, it wasn’t worth the headaches that would inevitably come with disobeying an order from somepony who’d been given a buttload of authority from the Department of Weather. Okay, maybe “order” was too strong a word; Fluttershy’s tone had really made it sound more like a strong suggestion, but that level of nuance was usually lost on the bureaucrats in Cloudsdale. Thus, she was obediently (though grudgingly) wasting her mind-numbingly awesome skills on the insanely boring task of telling every pegasus she could find that something that might or might not be bad could be happening in the near future. At the moment, she was standing in the local Pony Express office, doing her best to explain the situation to a somewhat confused delivery mare, Derpy Hooves. “But... it’s just fog, isn’t it?” Derpy asked. “I mean, it’s annoying, sure, but it’s not that big a deal.” Rainbow Dash sighed. “I know it sounds like that’s the case, but I’m pretty sure this stuff isn’t just fog, or the DOW would have let me do my job instead of bringing in a ‘specialist.’” Something about the way Rainbow Dash had pronounced that sentence’s final word sounded rather odd, at least to Derpy. It vaguely sounded like the voice that the other foals in flight camp used when they were making fun of her lazy eye, but she was pretty sure that Rainbow Dash would never do something like that—not on purpose, anyway. “Well, what kind of trouble are we talking about?” “I’m not sure,” the weatherpony replied in a grumble. “We’re still waiting to find out just how bad it is.” “Uh, did I say something bad?” “Huh? No! No, uh, I’m just a little, er, stressed, I guess. You didn’t do anything wrong, Derpy.” “That’s good to know. So is there anything I should do to get ready?” “Well, I guess there could be a problem if you have a cloud house, since this could be thick enough to push one around. The, uh, Department of Weather recommends raising the elevation of cloud structures to get around this,” Rainbow Dash said as she scanned the pamphlet Fluttershy had given her. “But I live on the ground,” Derpy said. “Huh? Oh, right, your daughter’s a unicorn. Well, then, as long as you stay inside a solid building like your home, you should be fine. And really, we’re talking about a worst-case scenario here. There’s no reason to, you know, panic.” Actually, the pamphlet had warned that panicking would be unhelpful, but that wasn’t really all that different from what Rainbow Dash had said, right? “Oh, well, okay, I guess. Should I get back to you later to see if anything’s changed?” “Me? Sweet Celestia, no. I’m not qualified to make any decisions about this. If you want information, talk to Fluttershy. She’s the local fog expert, after all.” Perhaps the sarcasm was a little over-the-top, but at the moment, Rainbow Dash simply didn’t care. Rather than wait for a response, she took to the air, heading to the next address on her list, leaving behind a rather befuddled-looking mailmare. August 31 – 7:49 AM “Thanks for opening up the library early for me, Twilight.” “Don’t mention it, Fluttershy. I’m always ready to help out one of my friends. Now, what was it you were researching again?” “Um, industrial clouds. They’re clouds that are made specifically as building materials.” Twilight nodded as she trotted towards the shelves. As the librarian scanned the spines, looking for appropriate resources, Fluttershy allowed herself to smile for the first time since Rainbow Dash had flown off. It had been simple enough to get the weather team to start drying Ponyville out; it wasn’t a particularly unusual task, and they already had well-established procedures for handling it. The real problem was that none of them had any knowledge of construction materials, beyond the fact that industrial clouds were obviously different from the normal kind. Luckily, somepony (whose name was escaping Fluttershy at the moment) suggested heading to the Golden Oaks Library to learn more about them. This was a truly inspired notion, not because one could reasonably expect the library to have a lot of books about the subject (Ponyville had an agriculture-based economy, after all, and most of its residents were earth ponies) but because it meant she could recruit Twilight Sparkle and her prodigious researching abilities. With any luck, the unicorn would figure out a quick, easy solution to the problem, everything would go back to normal, and nopony would be the wiser. It was truly a superb plan, with the exception of one minor detail: Twilight’s innate curiosity. “I never would have guessed that you were a fog specialist, Fluttershy! How did you get interested in the subject?” Fluttershy swallowed hard. “Oh, um, well, the Department of Weather was hiring, you see, and, um, I’d been wanting something I could do on the side, in addition to running the shelter. And, um, you know how much I love the ground, so I figured that I could specialize in ground-level clouds.” “I see,” Twilight replied, as she levitated several books off the shelves and began scanning their contents. “And all you had to do was volunteer?” “Um, n-no...” So far, Fluttershy had managed to avoid saying anything that was untrue, but the conversation was now moving toward matters that required a bit more delicacy. “I, uh, took a course on the subject, and then I had to take a test.” Please, please, please don’t ask for more details.... “Right... but I guess they didn’t cover industrial accidents, did they?” Fluttershy tried not to sound too relieved as she replied. “No, not really. In fact, I’m not certain why they want me to handle this.” “Eh, more than likely there isn’t anypony who has experience with it, and a fog specialist was the closest substitute they could think of. The bureaucrats in Canterlot pull stuff like this all the time. Don’t worry—you’ll do fine. I’m sure of it.” “I wish Rainbow Dash agreed with you. She thinks I should have sent you to check out the fog bank instead of Pinkie Pie.” “Oh, I don’t know about that. After all, how would I even get there? I can’t teleport that far away without getting tired, and my hot air balloon wouldn’t be much use if I have to travel against the north winds. I’m sure Pinkie Pie will be alright.” August 31 – 8:09 AM Pinkie Pie knew what ponies were supposed to do when they were lost: stay put and wait for help to arrive. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option for her, because she was fairly certain she was showing symptoms of that “hypothingamabobbia” thing Twilight Sparkle had once told her about. This meant she needed to stay as warm as possible, which wasn’t going to happen unless she kept moving. Fortunately, heading in a straight line was a lot easier now that she was looking at the ground in front of her hooves, rather than the featureless grey expanse around her. Pinkie was fairly certain that if she kept moving in one direction, she’d eventually get out of the fog and into the warm summer air, where her body temperature could get back to normal and she’d be able to see some landmarks that would tell her where she was. However, after several minutes of staring at the ground underhoof, Pinkie noticed something odd. The irregular pebbles she’d been walking on had taken on a more uniform quality; where before they were assorted shades of brown and grey, they were now all a bleached, off-white hue. Furthermore, almost every one of the small rocks was approximately the size of a donut hole, though the actual shapes were still quite variable. More importantly, they weren’t strewn about at random, as one might expect of rocks found in the middle of nowhere, but were instead piled up into straight furrows of consistent width and height, like the ridges on a washboard. “That looks so familiar,” the earth pony muttered to herself, “but where would I have seen that before?” The mare’s puzzlement continued as she continued walking, until suddenly the furrows bent around a modestly-sized black rock. Pinkie Pie smacked a hoof against her forehead. “Of course! Why didn’t I figure this out before?” Abandoning her plan to move in a straight line, she turned right and started moving parallel to the ridges, increasing her speed to a from a walk to a trot to a canter as she went. This was going to work; there was simply no way this plan could fail. Unless, of course, I was supposed to turn left.... August 31 – 8:11 AM “You’d think that something like this would have been mentioned in the farmer’s almanac,” the grey earth pony remarked as she paged through a particularly thick volume. “I mean, I know they sometimes need to reschedule things, but there’s nothing about a fog bank mentioned in either August or September.” The mare looked up and peered over her glasses at the light brown stallion seated across from her at the kitchen table. “Shep? Are you listening to me?” “Hmm? Oh, of course, dear. Something about going to the bank today, right?” Shep’s wife closed the book and massaged one of her temples. “Look, I know you don’t like having your daily routine interrupted, but there’s no way to get anything done out there, and as long as you’re cooped up in the farmhouse, you might as well try making some conversation.” The stallion sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just...” Shep trailed off as he tried to decide whether or not to finish his sentence. Fortunately, somepony else made that decision for him. “It’s just what?” Shep let out a deep breath as he answered: “It’s just that I’ve got a feeling that I need to do something.” “As I said, I know you want to get back to work—” “Not that kind of feeling. I mean a feeling. There’s a tingle in my left ear. I think somepony’s gotten lost out there.” Shep stood up and started walking towards the front door. “I need to look for them.” His wife groaned. “Not this again...” “I know you think it’s superstitious nonsense, but these hunches have yet to steer me wrong.” Shep had already lifted his raincoat off of its hook on the wall and proceeded to put it on. The grey mare sighed. “But... this all seems so... unnatural. A pony could easily get lost out there.” “That’s why I have to make sure nopony’s out there,” her husband replied as he lit a small lantern. “Don’t worry. The girls raked the gravel yesterday, and there’s no way a rock farmer can get lost on his land when the gravel’s been raked.” He briefly kissed his wife before putting on a wide-brimmed black hat. “I’ll be fine, Rhubarbara. Why don’t you brew some tea so we can warm up when we get back?” “‘We’?” “Me, and the pony I’m going to find out there.” Shepard’s Pie smiled, grabbed the lantern in his mouth, and set out into the fog.