//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: The Model City // Story: Time Turner's Discordian Detective Agency: The Panther of the Bluebloods // by Rodinga //------------------------------// Canterlot: The shining centre of Equestria, the pride of the Princess and an example for all.     If you’re just a tourist passing through it might seem that way. I prefer to think of it as the City of Sycophants. Everypony is trying to impress their ‘betters’ by scamming, cheating and bribing their way to the top. On the other hoof, all that ambition and greed did help make my bank account larger. In Canterlot you take what you can get. The journey on the morning service of the Friendship Express was uneventful, so I used it as an opportunity to take a nap. The train arrived at Canterlot Station an hour or so before noon where we disembarked and immediately set off toward the royal palace. As we travelled down Palace Boulevard my loyal marefriend brought me back up to speed on the current events in Equestria’s capital. There was little I considered relevant beyond the preparation for the Summer Sun Celebration in two days, a major event was planned for the citizens and a smaller more formal affair was set aside for the nobility. “Let me guess,” I said.  “One’s being run by Vinyl and the other is being run by Octavia.” a fair guess when considering those two mares. “Actually Octavia is organizing the big party.” Catch replied, “I spoke to her last week about it. Octavia said that the Princess put Vinyl in charge, but she’s passed all the details to Octavia instead.” “Typical Vinyl,” I said with a shake of my head. “Though I feel better about Octy running the celebration, instead of Vinyl making a mess of it,” I finished with a snort. We passed a public notice board covered in posters announcing an all-night party on the eve of the summer sun celebration. The posters listed the Wonderbolts along with Vinyl Scratch as celebrity performers. ”I thought the Wonderbolts were performing in Ponyville,” I said as we passed the posters. Catch giggled, “One of their members has a crush on Vinyl and Octavia promised that they could get time with her backstage if they performed. So a squad of them are staying in Canterlot while the rest escort the Princess to Ponyville.” “Which Wonderbolt has the crush on Vinyl?” “Octavia wouldn’t say, but whoever it is will be disappointed when they find out Vinyl’s taken.” I shook my head in amazement. “Oh dear, looks like Vinyl’s been a bad influence on Octavia if she’s doing that sort of thing.” I tilted my head back in thought, “Can’t argue with results though, Octy is probably the best pony for the job.” “So why didn’t the Princess just give the job to Octavia directly then?” Catch asked. “In a way she did. With the added bonus is that she doesn’t look like she’s favouring the pair, just Vinyl.” Catch gave me a quizzical look. “It’s just another part of the political game,” I replied with a shrug. “The Princess is the reigning champion, with more than a millennium of advantage over anypony else (1).” I paused for a moment to consider the implications. “What’s the public opinion on their relationship,” I asked Catch, not bothering to name the pair I had in mind. “Platonic,” Catch responded before she continued with a darker undertone. “The gossip magazines still list a ‘tan stallion’ as being Octavia’s secret coltfriend.” I helped Octavia with a few problems awhile ago and the final part of my ‘cunning plan’ was to ensure that her relationship with Vinyl stayed private. Although neither Vinyl or Catch were pleased with the method I used. “Well perhaps we should pay them a visit again at some point. I’d love to see you buck Vinyl in the face again.” Catch’s mouth spread out into a grin. As we were nearing the Royal Palace Lucky Catch had a sudden realization. “Timey, how are we going to get inside the Palace?” “The Prince invited us, remember?” “But he didn’t give us anything to show the guards.” Catch’s words brought me to a halt as I face hoofed, inwardly cursing my client. After a calming breath I looked ahead toward the palace gates, they were open and guarded by a pair of pegasi in gold armour. “Alright, new plan.” I reached into my saddlebags and rummaged around for something official looking. In a corner under my magnifying glass I found an old letter bearing an official seal. I passed it to Catch while muttering, “hold this” and pulled out my old fedora. After flipping the old hat onto my head I took the letter back from Catch to see what it was. It was one of a dozen or so letters I had received from the Equestrian Internal Revenue Service, the tax ponies. I’ve spent a surprising amount of time over the last two years lying about how I managed to afford purchasing my house on a timekeeper’s almost non-existent salary. This letter was official enough for what I was planning. “Follow, and let me do the talking,” I said to Catch. I walked towards the gates and their attendant guards, as I approached I held the letter open in my mouth and walked toward the guards. “Press,” I announced in a terrible Manehatten accent. “Here’s to interview the Prince.” I didn’t give a chance to give the letter a closer look as I walked past, nor did they move to stop us. They either had orders to let press in, weren’t going to stop the prince’s guests, or they were simply asleep on their hooves with their eyes open. We proceeded up through the gardens to the palace itself, where the doors were guarded by another pair of guards standing at attention. Despite their stance they looked even less attentive than the pair at the gates. “Excuse me,” I asked a guard. “Where would we find the prince at this hour?” Without missing a beat the guard responded, “In his drawing room, up the grand staircase on the left along the hall, 7th doorway on the right.” “Thank you,” I responded and continued on. As soon as we were out of earshot of the guards, Catch walked alongside me and spoke quietly in my ear. “Why didn’t they stop us?” “The Royal Guards are mostly ceremonial trumpet players and carriage pullers. They’re just there to look good, not to actually guard anything.” “But, what about the Princess, don’t they protect her?” “I imagine her personal guard take their jobs seriously and try prevent anypony from annoying her.” I tilted my head in thought. “When you think about it the Princess can move the sun, anything that can actually threaten her is not going to be stopped by a few guards (2).” “What about the Prince,” Catch asked, “Doesn’t he need to be protected as well?” “Considering that they’re not doing anything about the Panther, I’m going to assume that the only guard ponies that actually care about him are his own personal body guards.” As we walked the hallways of the palace, we both looked around in various states of amazement at the décor and architecture. Despite us both having lived in Canterlot for a good part of our lives, neither of us had actually been inside the palace. The floor was marble, covered with red carpet that ran down the centre of the hallways. The walls were covered in the largest private collection of artwork in the world (3) and vast windows bathed every inch of the castle in sunlight. This wasn’t so much a palace so much as a temple to what ponies can achieve when they work together. Eventually our impromptu tour came to a halt as we reached the door to the room where Blueblood was supposed to be hiding. I put my ear to it to listen for anypony who might be inside. Through the solid frame of the door I could hear a pair of voices talking, one sounded like the Prince. I gave the door rapid triple knock and waited for it to be answered. The door was slowly opened and a small diamond dog stuck its head through the small gap in the door. There was a shout from inside and the dog’s pointed ears shot around in alarm at the noise. “Ruff, what have I told you about not allowing us to be interrupted!” The dog retreated from the doorway and I opened the door further to see who was yelling. Beyond the doorway the dog was bowing before Prince Blueblood, who was loudly berating him. “Next time I ask for privacy, you will keep the door shut! Is that clear?” “Yes master,” the dog begged. Blueblood turned and gave the prostrate dog a kick making it yelp in pain. Standing next to me, Lucky Catch echoed the dog’s yelp in shock at the prince’s behaviour. The Prince quickly realized he had an audience and turned his attention toward us. “Detective Turner,” the prince recovered quickly. “it is so good of you to come to Canterlot so quickly. Please come in, we were just discussing our little problem.” The Prince returned to his seat opposite a grey unicorn stallion with a blond mane, “This is Fabulator, he has been assisting me in this matter.” The grey unicorn gave me a nod as I took the seat opposite the pair of them as Lucky Catch joined me. The double seat we had claimed was hard and tough. The Prince’s seat was undoubtedly tailored specifically for him, while his associate’s only a little less cushioned. In Canterlot Politics it’s all about the little things, uncomfortable chairs for guests was just another way for Blueblood to claim dominance. “So, how did you manage to get past the guards Time Turner,” the Prince inquired politely, starting his little game. “With a little difficulty,” I replied as neutrally as possible. “It should be no difficulty at all with a letter of passage signed by myself.” “Should I find a need, perhaps I would use it.” The Prince’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And if you were representing me?” “It would be better that nopony would know, your privacy is important,” I finished. Fabulator started to laugh at the exchange. “Blueblood my friend, it seems you have found a skilled servant. Though I still doubt your need for him, I have faith that your guards are sufficient protection from your stalker.” “Better that I find the cause Fab, if only for peace of mind.” Blueblood returned his attention to me. “I assume you have not yet found the reason behind my shadow. So why are you here then?” “Investigating, I need to know more about the panther to find out why it is following you.” Blueblood sat up in his seat. “I have found little more than myth and rumour. Nothing is certain beyond the death of my ancestor at its claws. All my attempts at finding out more has proved unfruitful, such was the point of hiring you.” “Blueblood,” I began by intentionally avoiding his title. “Everything is connected in the underlying harmony, the answer you want me to find could be learned from anything if I knew the right question to ask.” I held up a hoof in a conciliatory gesture. “So Blueblood my next question is, who or what can answer my questions about the panther?” Blueblood snorted. “That was absolute drivel, I’m paying you to find answers Time Turner, not questions. Since it was auntie’s advice to hire you, and since you are just as bad as she is, I’ll tell you what she’s told me: ‘If you want answers, find a teacher. If you want questions, find a student’.” “Wise words, Blueblood,” Fabulator observed. “A shame that you find no meaning in them.” The grey unicorn gave the Prince a sly smile. “Celestia is a teacher herself, after all.” “And her pestering student is constantly interrupting royal business with such annoying frivolity.” Bluebood shot back and returned his ire toward me. “Fine, you want questions, Time Turner? Go see Celestia’s student,” he waved his hoof dismissively. “Perhaps you can give her a research project to keep her out of my mane.” I raised an eyebrow, “and who would that be?” “Dusk Twinkle or something like that. Ruff will show you the way.” He pointed to the door, “now be gone from my presence and do the job I hired you to do.” Dismissed, I stood and motioned for Lucky Catch to follow me. I was all too happy to leave the royal pain to his ally. We were halfway to the door when Blueblood restarted his conversation with Fabulator, a pointed dismissal of us and the importance of the subject at hoof. I opened the door and let Catch pass through first, closing the door behind me as we went out into the hall. Catch dropped her self-imposed silence. “What in Celestia’s name was that?” “Politics, I think I just lost a game against a pro,” I muttered. “Lost? Was that supposed to be a game of some sort?” “Yes, ‘A gentlecolt is never unintentionally rude’. Blueblood was insulted that I didn’t need his permission to enter the palace, or his assistance to continue. Then when I tried to ask him a few questions about the Panther he simply told us to go bother somepony else.” I sighed and rubbed a fetlock across my forehead. “Going to see the student probably our best lead anyway, we can just hope chaos throws a wrench at us.” “Is all politics like that?” Catch asked with genuine interest. I nodded slowly. “It’s a delicate game of subtle insults and inlaid sarcasm in everything they do. If I’m any good at all it is because I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with nobility. As a rule they are all rude to each other and anyone below them. Blueblood is probably one of the best at it too—”I snorted. “After all there is only one pony above him that he needs to be nice to.” Catch nodded, “I see, but its somehow rather disappointing at the same time.” I gave her a sympathetic shrug. “So what do we do now?” “We find Blueblood’s servant ‘Ruff’ and ask him to lead us to Celestia’s student.” There was a polite cough from nearby and we both turned to face the source. It was the small diamond dog we had seen earlier, standing on two feet with his paws held behind his back. Catch went straight over to comfort the abused creature. “Are you okay, that kick looked painful. Did the mean prince hurt you?” “I am quite fine,” he reassured before adding, “Such is the role I play in the Prince’s household.” “What role is that,” I asked with some veiled interest. The diamond dog bowed. “I am Ruff, dogsbody to Prince Blueblood the 52nd. I am at your service.” I briefly smirked at the title, Dogsbody: an amusing title for a menial servant. It was even more amusing when applied to an actual dog, the prince had such wonderful taste in humour. “Am I correct in assuming my master would have me perform a task for you?” The diamond dog asked with a slight smile on his muzzle. I briefly wondered how much of the conversation here and inside Ruff had been eavesdropping on, in the grand tradition of competent servants everywhere. “You were supposed to take us to somepony else that could answer my questions,” I asked with as little detail as possible. Ruff gave me a polite nod. “Her majesty’s faithful student is currently within her chambers in the Ivory Tower.” He reached out an arm and pushed at the wall to reveal a secret passage. “Please, allow me to show you the way.”     The secret passage was a secret known to everypony. It was wide enough for two ponies to easily pass each other and designed so servants could get where they needed to go quickly. We traveled in single file so other servants could pass us, Ruff led from the front, followed by Catch with me at the back. While we travelled Catch asked questions of the diamond dog, her interest in pets extending to the unusual servant. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen somepony like you before, what are you?” Ruff turned around and walked backwards to speak directly to Catch. “I am one of the Gemini, or more colloquially a ‘Diamond Dog’. We come from a very far off land.” “So why are you in Equestria?” “A long and boring story I assure you. Suffice it to say I came in search of opportunity. I was quickly hired as a servant here at the palace, where I was soon assigned to Blueblood as part of the normal rotation. However as I have lasted longer than my predecessors it seems I am doomed to serve him permanently.” I laughed out loud, receiving an annoyed look from Catch and an amused one from Ruff before I explained the joke. “The reward for doing your job too well, is to be stuck doing it forever.” “Indeed,” Ruff replied blandly. Catch was still curious and dove into the heart of her concern. “Why do you serve Blueblood when he’s so horrible to you?” “It is a simple matter Miss Catch, I am paid well.” “What could they pay you to make up for being kicked like that?” asked Catch with a note of Ruff’s composure shook as an eye twitched. “Gems, hundreds of gems,” his voice was filled with a longing tone as his breathing became faster and heavier. “So many gems that are all mine for me to enjoy, shine, hoard and sleep on.” Catch was a little frightened by the abrupt mood swing and started to back away from Ruff as he continued. “Rubies, emeralds, topazes, opals, sapphires and diamonds, everything a dog could want!” he called out lifting his arms into the air. They weren’t called diamond dogs for nothing. “That’s enough for you? A few jewels and you’re willing to deal with Blueblood all the time?” Catch asked. Ruff seemed to realize what he was shouting and took a few deep breaths to return to his calm demeanour. “I am also granted ‘hazard pay’ by the treasury and the Princess also pays me directly. At my last estimate I suspect I may be one of the wealthiest diamond dogs in the world, and by far the richest in Equestria.” “Given what we just saw I’m not surprised,” I added. “So why is Blueblood considered important? Last time I checked the Princess was in charge.” Ruff smiled. “My master’s title is a result of his heritage from the ancient unicorn royal family. It gives him prestige and aids him in controlling the nobility. Beyond that he also has a seat on the royal council and a significant amount of influence on the other members, making him the unofficial leader. This means whenever the Princess is away Blueblood is effectively in charge, making him the second most powerful pony in Equestria.” “Making you the most powerful diamond dog in Equestria,” I said with a smirk. “After all you can influence him in ways the nobility can’t.” “If I switched his morning coffee to a de-caffeinated blend, then perhaps I could.” He thought aloud as he continued to lead us further into the palace’s secret passageways. As we continued talking, I had to admit to myself that I was beginning to like this diamond dog. Luna’s Notes: (1)Our sister at any time hast several schemes in motion. A Millennium of rule hast given her an unrivalled edge in court intrigue. We however find politics onerous at best and prefer a direct approach in our own schemes. (2)As thou might expect, our personal Night Guard and our Sister’s personal retinue of Solar Guard are all skilled combatants. The palace posting is regarded as soft and our more skilled servants are posted elsewhere. (3)The Royal Art Collection has been compiled from works personally chosen by our sister over the entirety of her reign. Every night servants move pieces around so each day new examples of visual art from throughout history are given a chance to be appreciated.