//------------------------------// // Night Light and Fisher // Story: Fishing in the Dark // by GrassAndClouds2 //------------------------------// “…And so, I think it’s quite clear that if this bill passes, it will be very beneficial for Latigo as well, and…” Viceroy Night Light struggled to pay attention as Viscount Prince Blueblood chattered away about the latest set of bills awaiting votes in the Court. The Viscount’s chief concern was a bill that would delegate an increased amount of funds to certain provinces to modernize their schooling systems. Xenophon was one such province, and so of course Blueblood wanted the bill to pass. Night Light, though, was a good deal less enthusiastic than Blueblood about the measure; he approved of the general idea, but thought that it didn’t include sufficient oversight to ensure that the money was actually spent on schools. He was working with Duchess Posey to draft a revised version of the bill that fixed that problem. Blueblood, though, seemed to think things were just fine as they were. Night Light debated going through the bill and explaining the issues to Blueblood. He then thought about the hundreds of other, less frustrating things he could be dong, such as hitting himself in the horn with a hammer. So, once Blueblood had quieted long enough for him to get a word in edgewise, he said, “Blueblood, the Starlight clan has always supported education. You have my word that I will either support this bill, or another that does the same thing – helping to modernize our nation’s schools so that foals all over the country can be educated to their fullest potential. Was there anything else?” “Er.” Blueblood frowned at the implied rebuff, but then recovered his smile. “One other thing, actually. As I’m sure you’re aware, this bill, as well as any others of a similar nature, are approved or rejected by the Royal Education Ministry. There’s a bill before the full Court, due to be voted on next week, that would require the REM to operate on a zero-sum basis. I’m sure you see the implications.” If the REM went zero-sum, that would mean that any increase in funds to one area – such as sending more money to certain provinces to modernize their schools – would have to be offset by an equally large cut in other areas. And nopony would support a cut to education; it would be political suicide. But if no cuts meant no new funding either, Blueblood’s education bill, and Night Light’s too, would both be likely to be rejected. “What do you want me to do about it?” “The zero-sum bill was proposed by Archduke Fisher. To be frank, I don’t have the clout to go up against him. But if you were to say something… well, he listens to you. If you persuaded him to withdraw his own bill, I’d say the odds would improve that both of us would be able to get what we want.” Night Light frowned. Fisher usually supported education, albeit from a very technocratic (“We must educate our foals so they can lead Equestrian industry into the future!”) perspective. This was a new, and possibly troublesome, development. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, if there’s nothing else…” “By your leave, Viceroy.” And Blueblood, mercifully, left at last. Night Light leaned back in his seat and sighed. He felt tired. He was feeling tired a lot, these days. How many years had he been Viceroy, now? How long had he been playing these stupid, inane political games? It felt like ages. He needed a vacation… but he knew that he wouldn’t enjoy it if he took one. He’d just spend all his time thinking of her. Twilight… where are you? Shaking his head, he got to his hooves. Work may have become… distasteful, in these last few months, but it could also distract him from his other problems. And, besides, Fisher might be extreme sometimes, but he was smart, and industrious, and he wasn’t just out to line his own pockets. He had his own flaws, to be sure, but he was a decent pony to talk to. Besides, Night Light was reasonably certain that – whatever their political differences – there was one thing they agreed on perfectly. *** “I don’t care if it’s ‘complicated.’ Your factory clearly has a problem, and if you cannot resolve it, I will fire you and find a pony that can!” Night Light frowned and knocked on the door of Archduke Fisher. Fisher didn’t seem to hear him. Granted, he was without appointment, so he couldn't really complain about it, but it was still mildly annoying. “Do you have any idea what it takes to train a pony to cast that kind of magic? Your factory has sent me three reports of overchanneling in the last month. That’s three skilled, trained unicorns in the hospital! Now, either your hiring standards have gotten so sloppy that you’ve been hiring inept spellcasters, or you’re pushing your employees unusually hard for some reason. And your shipping records don’t indicate that you’ve been producing extra product. So what’s the problem, Big Boss?” Boss audibly gulped. “I – I don’t know, Archduke. But trust me, I’ll find the problem. Probably one of the assistant managers pushing too hard, you know how they are—“ “I suppose that is one possibility. Another, of course, is that you’re having the unicorns produce extra enchanted goods… and keeping them off the books, to sell and profit from personally. As we are at war, and your factory produces supplies to be used in that war, I believe that would technically be considered profiteering.” “I – uh—“ (Night Light knocked again, but to no avail). “Of course, if that were the case, I would expect to find that your factory is also obtaining an increased quantity of raw materials. Now… if I contact my usual suppliers and ask them if they’ve been shipping more materials than usual to your factory in the past month, what am I going to find?” “Well – er – I can explain, really, I swear! I--” “Oh really? Tell you what: I’m going to leave for a while; I have some business elsewhere in the castle. When I get back, you’re to have a sensible explanation for the problems. If you don’t, I will open an investigation… and woe betide you if your factory received even a single extra ton of materials that isn’t on the balance sheets.” “But—“ An interior door closed, and Night Light heard Fisher approaching the outer door. “Majordomo, get Big Boss something to write on, and a quill and ink. I expect he’ll have a lot to say.” “Yes, Archduke.” Night Light knocked for a third time. This time, he heard hoofsteps approaching the door. “Who is it?” A pony within called. “Viceroy Night Light.” The door opened, and Majordomo stepped out. He was a tall, orange unicorn who served as Fisher’s secretary and scheduler in Canterlot Castle. Night Light had heard that he was smug and arrogant when among the other castle staff, though he was always respectful to the nobles. “Viceroy,” he said. “Please come in.” Night Light walked into Fisher’s outer office, a large room lined with bookshelves and with a single large desk in the center. It looked impersonal and cold, like the waiting room at a law firm. The only personal touch he saw was the large, ornate chess board on one end of the desk. Even the walls were bare. Fisher was shuffling papers on his desk. He looked up. “Viceroy.” He bowed. “An unexpected pleasure. How may I help you?” “I’d like to talk to you, if you have some time.” “As it happens, I do.” Fisher glanced back at an interior door, beyond which Big Boss was presumably scratching out a confession. “But I do need to get across the castle. Shall we?” Night Light had no objection to walking while he talked, so he inclined his head. Once in the corridor, Fisher sighed. “I don’t suppose you heard that argument.” “Yes. I’m surprised that a war profiteer would work for you, though, as your standards on such things are well known.” “There’s always ponies who think they’re smart enough to get away with it,” said Fisher. “I try to keep them as far from Fisher Industries as possible, but what with my new responsibilities, I haven’t been able to devote as much time to managing my businesses as before. I suppose that’s why he made his move.” “What does that factory produce?” asked Night Light, trying to make conversation. “Saddlebags, crates, and various other forms of luggage. Mostly for the Guards.” Fisher scowled. “Our newest model of saddlebag can hold three times as much matter as a normal bag. They will make logistics for our military immeasurably simpler. And a greedy pony purports to misuse those resources for his own personal wealth.” The Archduke shook his head. “Disgraceful.” “As the parent of a Guard, and as a noble who borders the demilitarized zone with the Griffin Kingdoms, I appreciate all the effort you put into making sure our soldiers get the best equipment.” Night Light might disagree with Fisher on many other things, but he had never yet found fault in his factory’s military supplies. “Thank you.” “I consider it my duty,” said Fisher. “The House of Fisher supports Equestria. Equestria needs a strong army… now, more than ever. That we develop the best weapons and supplies, and sell them to the army as cheaply as we can, is a natural course of action. After all, we are at war, even if some ponies don’t seem to understand that.” “Which ones now?” asked Night Light, perhaps a bit more bluntly than he intended. Fisher didn’t seem to notice, though. “Too many. For instance, I suppose you’ve heard of the nonsense with the Royal Equestrian Arts Committee requesting a larger stipend?” He shook his head. “Completely absurd. To be fussing about funding art shows and concerts while Corona prowls on the border.” “I do recall you mentioning something along those lines when Philharmonica was hired.“ “She’s a perfect example of the misplaced priorities of some members of the Court,” said Fisher. “This is not the time to be hiring a government artiste. I appreciate that she has remarkable ability, and I wish her all the best in her career, but she shouldn’t be funding it at taxpayer expense. Not now. Not with an alicorn opposing us, for which we might need every bit that we can get to fight her.” Night Light frowned. “One pony’s salary is minor compared to the Equestrian government.” “I grant that she has thus far been very modest in her requests, but the fame surrounding her performance of that Symphony encourages the others. Have you heard Count Lacey Sequins’ latest idea? He wants to start ‘talent searches’ across Equestria, looking for nascent artists who could produce great works if found and nurtured by the Equestrian government. He’d send dozens of ponies across Equestria, have them evaluate thousands of amateurs, and then of course fund scholarships for those deemed ‘worthy’ according to whatever standards the evaluators come up with. When I asked him why he would possibly waste money on this, he said that he just wants to make sure that ‘Equestria doesn’t miss out on the next Octavia Philharmonica.’ Utter madness.” “I have to admit, it would be a shame if a great artist were lost because of a happenstance of birth,” said Night Light. “Perhaps, but that money could be more useful elsewhere. Or – let me put it like this. I suppose it is possible that, in some small town in a corner of Equestria, there is a great artist just waiting to be discovered, every inch the equal of Philharmonica or another government artist. But I submit that it is equally likely that a great general is waiting one town over, a strong pony, sound of heart and with a brilliant tactical mind, who could lead our troops to some incredible victory over Equestria’s enemies. And – especially in wartime – it is far more important to find that pony than the world’s greatest stippler, or whoever.” But what’s the point of having a great army if there’s no life in the towns they defend? If there’s no art, music, or anything else, and it all goes to the military, they’ll win the battles, but what are they fighting for? wondered Night Light. Still, there was little point in arguing about it. “I suppose I can understand that.” Fisher nodded. “Of course. If I may be so bold… you’re not like the others, Viceroy. You truly care about this country. You understand these things.” “I try.” “Speaking of the army, may I ask how your son is doing?” “Quite well, thank you. A lot of drills, of course, but he’s holding up admirably. He’s really forming the Royal Guards, particularly the Canterlot divisions, into powerful fighting forces. Princess Luna has been very pleased.” “Wonderful.” “And your son?” Fisher smiled. It was an unusual enough occurrence that Night Light had to look twice to make sure it wasn’t just a trick of the light, but Fisher was indeed smiling – not smirking, not smugly mocking some adversary, but smiling with pure pleasure. “Better than I had ever dreamed.” “He’s begun his test, hasn’t he?” The House of Fisher had a custom where its heirs were sent into the world without the House’s vast resources behind them, to see what they could make of themselves. If Night Light remembered the Fisher family’s ages correctly, Archduke Fisher’s son would have started a few months prior. “Yes. And he wants to outdo his old stallion.” Fisher looked almost tender; Night Light had never seen him like this. “I suppose you know that I revitalized Stalliongrad, even though everypony thought it was impossible to improve that city’s industry. Well, he wants to do one better. He’s doing his test in Moscolt.” “Moscolt?” Night Light frowned. “It’s already rich, but its big industry is… tourism, isn’t it? And the tourism is all from the old buildings and the cultural events; it has no industry to speak of. How is he going to boost Moscolt?” “I have no idea. I even asked him if he was sure; I would have been fine with him picking a smaller town. But he said… he said that Moscolt does have substantial untapped resources; it’s near arable land, has plenty of buildings that would make good factories, that sort of thing. He thinks he can make it productive, have it export goods all over the country just like Stalliongrad. And when I told him it would be hard, he just said that he was up to the task, and he wasn’t going to let me down.” Fisher was silent for a moment. “He knows what awaits him if he fails, but he’s still willing to take that risk, for the good of the province and the nation… and to demonstrate that he is a worthy Fisher.” He looked off into the distance. “It’s a splendid thing, to have children that you can be so proud of, isn’t it?” Night Light was thinking of Shining Armor – of when he became a Royal Guard, of when he became a Captain, of the various heroics he’d undertaken and the increasingly prestigious postings he’d obtained. And he thought of Twilight, of the joy she took in intellectual pursuits, of her glee at each new magical discovery. “Yes,” he said. “It is.” They were silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. But a stray thought entered Night Light’s head, and he lost his wistful gaze. “Of course,” he said, bitterness obvious in his voice, “Some would say I’ve not much to be proud of with my children.” Fisher paused. “May I assume that by ‘some’ you mean a certain showmare who seems to have obtained the princess’s favor?” “You may.” “Representative Lulamoon…” Fisher’s voice became a hiss. “She’s a disgrace to the Court.” “Yes.” “I don’t understand what Princess Luna sees in her.” Fisher shook his head. “Maybe she pities her. But… when I think of the opportunity she had and squandered, I can’t help but think it’s a travesty that she’s gotten as far as she has.” Fisher’s gaze had wandered off again; he seemed to be looking at something Night Light could not see. “There are ponies who would do anything to learn from Princess Luna,” he said. “They’d give their left hooves to study under her and learn politics and magic from the wisest and strongest pony in existence. They would work day and night to master whatever she had to teach them. My son, your son, your daughter, they would have done it right! I can only imagine the heights one of them would have reached had they been able to study at the hooves of a pony like Luna – and they would have labored tirelessly to gain as much as they possibly could from her tutelage! But Lulamoon… a lazy reprobate, who would rather sleep than study, who wasted her time learning tricks to entertain foals rather than useful magic, who cares more about her own personal well-being than the welfare of the nation despite being the linchpin of its defenses, whose most notable act while in Canterlot and studying under Luna was not some great magical discovery or meritorious deed, but the destruction of an ice palace… she is reprehensible.” “I agree,” said Night Light. “Albeit for a more personal reason… which I’m sure you’re aware.” Fisher nodded. “Her actions towards your daughter were truly depraved. You have my sympathies, and of course, if there is anything at all I can do to help, you have but to ask.” “Thank you.” Night Light paused, wondering if he should say more. Fisher had a son, one it seemed that he loved very much. Maybe he would understand. The others hadn’t, not even Luna, but maybe Fisher… I want somepony to talk to, he thought. Not as Viceroy, or as a leader of the nation, but just as a father. And Fisher, maybe he’ll get it… “I’m sure you’ve heard of the… incident with the REMM,” began Night Light. “Regarding Ponyville’s reconstruction funding request? Yes.” “And I suppose you know that Luna was quite furious with me, when she found out that I’d been dragging my hooves.” Fisher said nothing. “She doesn’t understand. What Lulamoon did to me… it was monstrous. Something has to be done to make Trixie see…” “You don’t need to convince me,” said Fisher. “That Lulamoon was never punished for what she did to you is a massive injustice. You acted to correct that injustice the only way you could. It’s not what I would have done, but then again, it wasn’t my daughter who was attacked by that mare.” “So you understand…” “Of course. Your daughter was… no. Your daughter is a great mare. Brilliant, studious, loyal to kin and country… she’s everything a pony could want in a daughter. With her sheer magical prowess and diligent nature, she could have done so much for the country, performed spells that saved and improved thousands of lives without question! She is worth a hundred Trixie Lulamoons. And yet, when she arrived in Ponyville, rather than bow before her and seek to learn from her, Trixie manipulated her into bringing an ursa to town before running away and becoming a fugitive.” Fisher shook his head. “Would that it were the reverse…” Night Light said nothing, and looked away. No, Fisher didn’t understand either. Night Light didn’t care that Trixie might have made life worse, in some abstract way, for ponies who could benefit from Twilight’s spells. He just cared that he’d lost his only daughter. His daughter who, upon seeing a light spell for the first time, had gone to her room and spent hours trying to get her horn to light up. Who had even missed dinner in her efforts. And who, when she had succeeded and had conjured a glowing light that spun around her head in a smiley-face pattern, had run to her father with an expression of pure glee and announced that she was going to be just as amazing a magician as her daddy some day. His daughter, who had learned to read at an unusually young age and had spent so many days holed up in her little book fort with some new text, and who had eagerly told her father all about her studies every night when he came home. She hadn’t discriminated in her books; she might read a magical theory study one day and ‘The Adventures of Smarty Pants’ the next, but she recounted them to Night Light with equal fervor. And she, when Night Light had had a very bad day at work thanks to a griffin idiot who had wandered into Latigo and almost started an international incident, had carefully brewed a cup of tea for him that night, put a blanket over him, and read to him from one of her books of fables in an effort to cheer him up. After all, she said, it worked for her. His daughter, who had once tried and failed to stuff an entire chocolate-chip cookie into her mouth, and had subsequently spent a few days searching for a mouth-widening spell so she could fit more cookie in at once. His daughter, who had popped into his office one day in a flash of light and had announced to the startled occupants that she had learned how to teleport, and now she could go give her daddy hugs whenever he wanted them, wherever he was. And she, when Vicereine Puissance (there for some reason Night Light couldn’t remember) had objected to the intrusion, had informed her that it was ‘vewy, vewy wude’ to interrupt somepony and that she should say sorry or she might hurt somepony’s feelings. His daughter, who had announced one day that she was going to learn all the magic in the world and become the greatest mage ever, and had worked diligently towards that goal… but had been willing to put down her studies in an instant when she learned that her brother was going to graduate and join the Royal Guards, or when Night Light was called to a diplomatic function in Caneighda to honor the retiring Count Greenmeadow. Night Light had even told Twilight she could skip that one, but Twilight had just hugged him and said that she knew he’d be happier if she were there. His daughter, who had brought a thousand thousand joys into his life, great and small alike. She was what Trixie had taken from him. And… barring some miracle, like his daughter coming home… Night Light would never forgive her for that. But Fisher wouldn’t understand, because as much as he loved his son, nothing bad had ever happened to the junior Fisher. No calamity had struck his life and driven his father, powerful and strong though he was, to his knees in helplessness. And, until and unless that happened, Fisher wouldn’t be able to connect with Twilight. So he would see her like he saw every other pony that wasn’t a Fisher; a possible military asset, to be ranked in value according to how useful she was to Equestria. That was it. I just want somepony to talk to… Night Light thought to himself. He realized that Fisher was talking again. “I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.” “I said,” repeated Fisher, “That while Trixie’s lack of effort might have been somewhat excusable as a Representative… it’s not as if there is any shortage of lazy Representatives, or Courtiers in general… now that she is an Element, her inability to work for the nation’s good is unforgiveable. I’ve been monitoring her in Ponyville, as she is such an important resource to the military, and her actions show a depraved disregard for Equestria’s safety. She knows that she’s untouchable, because of her status as a Bearer… oh, how I wish any other pony had taken her place… and so she does as she pleases, and the nation might as well burn for all she cares.” “Well,” said Night Light, “To be fair, I suppose she did defeat Corona that one time…” “Yes, with the town ready to lynch her and the Tyrant Sun ready to roast her, she managed to cast one spell. But in any other case, when the stakes were lower, she failed miserably. Do you know what she’s been doing these last six months?” “No.” “Only a few weeks after she became a Bearer, she picked a fight with some translators of the zebra language. Equestria needs those translators, of course, since zebras are Corona’s natural allies. But Trixie apparently made it a ‘her or them’ situation, and we couldn’t have the Element of Magic going on strike, so the translators got the boot. And maybe we won’t be able to translate intercepted communications between Corona and the zebra nation as quickly now, but that's the price we had to pay to keep Lulamoon around. “Then Corona sent a minion to burn Ponyville, a phoenix she used to raise. And Trixie, head of the Elements of Harmony, whose job as a Bearer is to fight Corona, was unable to battle a baby bird. She had to call Luna for help, and not before the bird torched a house. If she can’t fight Corona’s pet, what hope does she have to battle Corona? “A while later, the Manehattan mafia attempted to gain the Elements. Once again, Trixie was useless – this time against common ponies without even any military training to speak of. She had to rely on a bounty hunter, a farmhand, and a teacher to bail her out. And still later, when those snake monsters attacked the castle, not only did she fail to fight them off in any reasonable time frame, but they actually captured her.” Fisher looked grim. “She’s completely incompetent, and yet every other battle plan that crosses the Ministry of War’s view involves her leading the Elements to victory over Corona. I don’t think she could lead them to victory over a group of ragged bandits at this point." He shuddered. "I am up at all hours worrying about it. No matter what schemes we come up with to win, if Trixie flakes or can't cope with the stress of a battle, we could all die. All that we've worked so hard to build, up in smoke." Night Light blinked. Fisher looked almost scared. It was another unusual look for the powerful, severe pony. "Do you really think she'll crumble like that?" "Yes! Corona builds her power every day, but Trixie doesn’t train or do anything to improve. She’d rather just loaf around and hope that another day goes by without Corona killing everypony. She cares nothing for this nation or anypony’s life except her own. Her depravity is without limit, and I seriously doubt she'll be of any use when -- not if -- Corona attacks.” Night Light said nothing. Fisher hated a lot of ponies, he knew, but he rarely went off on rants like this. His loathing of Trixie was apparently truly deep. Well, I knew we agreed on one thing. “That’s why,” said Fisher, “I’ve been trying to get the Elements under more… direct control. Trixie cannot handle the freedom she’s been given, and she’s in far too important of a position for us to wait any longer. The nation depends on her; there’s no time to hope that she develops character and maturity. She must be brought to heel.” “So that’s why you wrote those things in the newspaper,” said Night Light. “I hope you realize that wasn’t to fool you. I just wanted to rattle Lulamoon and get her onboard before Princess Luna took away the leverage you were applying.” Fisher shrugged. “It didn’t work, but I don’t regret trying. I’d do it again – and defend my actions before anypony who asked. The safety of the nation is more important than the integrity of the papers.” “Weren’t you worried that Greengrass or Blueblood might do something stupid with the Elements and endanger Equestria?” “Blueblood is an idiot, and Greengrass far too audacious. They would have tried using the Elements in an overt political scheme, and Luna would have booted them. Preferably off of the Canterhorn.” Fisher chuckled. “Leaving me with the reins. But… that’s in the past. I have another plan now.” “To get the Elements in Rushia?” “I never wanted that. Greengrass might have only been able to conceive of the Elements as being political tools for his province, but that was never my goal. I just want to get the Elements up to scratch. They need real, proper discipline and training, Trixie most of all. She needs to be able to march, and fight, and throw serious magic around without worrying about missing her spa appointments or her hay shakes.” Fisher smiled, but it was his more usual smile, a smug grin that announced that he was about to trample some opponent. “Military training, perhaps. Maybe even conscription.” Night Light said nothing. “And this, in fact, is where Luna’s little directive, that the REMM is to release those funds, could be a blessing in disguise.” “How do you figure?” “Look at it this way: it is now an official ruling of the Equestrian government that Corona successfully attacked and destroyed the hometown of the Elements of Harmony. It is on the record that Trixie and her friends utterly failed to stop her.” “That’s true,” murmured Night Light. “So, here’s what we do. You play that up in your speech. I’m sure you’ll have to talk to the papers to discuss the fact that you’re giving out those funds after all, so just mention a few times that Corona’s minion really was to blame, and the Elements, tragically, just weren’t able to do anything to stop her. I can try to use that to convince the Court, in my capacity as Minister of War, to force the Elements to get proper training. And while it might knock those six out of their comfortable lives a bit… well, I have no objection to Trixie being forced, for the first time in her life, to actually fulfill her responsibilities.” Night Light paused, thinking it over. “Besides.” Fisher lowered his voice. “Let’s say this works. Now, the lesser victory is that Luna simply assigns the Elements personal trainers of various types, which would still, honestly, be a marked improvement. But I want to push for full conscription – I doubt anything less will be able to turn Trixie into the warrior she needs to be. If Trixie, at least, gets conscripted, it shouldn't be hard to get her under Captain Armor’s command.” “…he does get his pick of new recruits…” “Now, that does a few things. First, their training will require some actual missions. Such as, say, scouring this place or that for missing ponies.” Fisher smiled grimly. “Including your daughter. If she’s sighted in… Ghastly Gorge, for instance, the Elements could be sent there to try to look for her. We could make Trixie actually work to try to fix her mistake, rather than hoping that everypony forgets about it. And… well, if you still want revenge, I’m sure there’s all kinds of ways a commanding officer could make things unpleasant for a new recruit. She sent your daughter off into the wilderness with nothing, didn’t she? I bet the army could whip up a good simulation of that for Trixie.” He chuckled. “Win-win. By making the Elements train, we support Equestria’s future. We make it possible for the Elements to fight Corona. And… we also correct the injustice that’s been perpetrated on the Court and nation. Trixie Lulamoon has been given a free ride for her many deficiencies for far too long. This would help correct that.” Night Light paused. I want her to suffer. But… but I don’t know if this is right. Would Twilight want this? But I can’t know what she wants, because Trixie took her from me. I… I just don’t know… “I’ll think about it.” “Wonderful.” They walked in silence for a few moments more, before Fisher asked, “Incidentally, what was it you actually came to see me about?” “Oh, the new education bill you proposed.” “Ah, yes. The zero-sum bill. Well, I think you’ll find…” And so they walked off, now discussing more prosaic governmental matters. And Fisher, at least, was fully committed to the conversation; like everything else he did, he approached this particular bill with the full seriousness of a pony who felt that the nation’s safety rested on his back. And Night Light tried too. But he couldn’t get his worries for his daughter out of his mind.