Charter Ten
Family
Cirrus was in a pretty bad condition, even worse than Turbulence, she truly did crash at high speed on the ground. Craft and I had made one of the bedrooms with king-sized bed our make-shift hospital. Turbulence had just woke up when we brought Cirrus in. “What happened?”
I gently laid Cirrus on the other side of the bed. She was seriously messed up, both her forelegs were clearly broken. And the way she face-planted might have broken her jaw too, I couldn’t say much without an X-ray. The blood she spat out came directly from a wound in her mouth, she wasn’t coughing it up. “Don’t talk, I have to patch you up first.”
“What happened?” Turbulence repeated.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves another Dashite.” You’re not helping, Craft...
“What. Happened.” He repeated again, this time with more persistence.
“Cirrus appears to have stolen my saddlebags from evidence, made a run for it, and had a landing accident.” But I couldn’t come up with any reason why she would do that. She gargled again. “Don’t speak, Cirrus.” I put a bucket next to the bed near her head. “Spit out the blood, don’t swallow it. Uhmm... two blinks for yes, three for no. Okay?” She blinked twice. “Now open your mouth for me, I need to inspect the damage.”
I wouldn’t be a very good nurse. While blood doesn’t get to me, it was my imagination I hate in such situations. Cirrus has to be in so much pain, she only put her head over the bucked and simply drooled into it. It was disgusting, but I need to help her.
“You almost...” No, let’s start differently. “I have the technology and medicine to fix this. You almost bit your tongue off, but your teeth look intact on first inspection, there’s nothing chipped. I’ll give you something that will knock you out.” Her facial muscles twitched in her attempt to smile, but then she just blinked twice. “Good.”
“Aren’t you going to ask her if she has been followed, or how she found us?” Turbulence was panicking. “I mean this is like an underground complex, right?”
“There is nothing to worry about. Either only she knew, and we really don’t have anything to worry.” I expected something like this coming from Craft, not out of my own mouth. “Or they already know where we are, and we are under siege, then it’s best to stay calm.”
Craft nodded. “Not bad.” When she injected Cirrus with Med-X, Cirrus immediately seem to fall asleep.
“Either way, we cannot do anything with Cirrus injured like this, the least thing we have to do is get her speaking.” I signed... what now? Craft floated a regular healing potion and a Super-Resto up; she made me choose. “We give her the Super-Resto. Cirrus’ on our side, I guess. We have to wait until she’s better, time will tell, all we can do is wait.”
“What now?” Turbulence stood up from his side of the bed. “I’m not tied down or anything. What’s your plan?” He moaned in pain of his own injuries, as he tried to move his tied down wings. “Okay, you did tie me down, but not for tie-down purposes.” He’s confusing what he wants to say. “What can you possibly gain from kidnapping me, or going to the Enclave to begin with?”
“Well, like this you can help a lot of ponies. You are a Dashite now, deal with it.” Craft wasn’t going easy on him. “You know what would happen if you go back.” Actually... no. What would happen? “You are contaminated, right?”
“No, I’m not. That’s only, like, an urban legend. Sure, there are contaminants down here, but not everywhere.” He walked around to inspect the damage on Cirrus himself. “Ouch.”
“So, as an expert on the wastelands, you certainly know pegasi who went down here and survived, right?”
“Well, no, but those were actually in some kind of contaminated...” He trailed of. “Uhh.”
“And there is no way the Enclave has killed them, so that they couldn’t tell anyone that it’s not actually contaminated. I’m sure they’ll welcome you up there again. After all, you were an expert on the wastelands, and now have some praxis. They’ll love you!”
Turbulence couldn’t respond. From what I’ve learned from the one Dashite I’ve met, the Enclave isn’t the nicest form of government, and the one thing they really need to take care of is making sure nopony left them.
“Welcome to the wastelands.” I figured he didn’t appreciate me welcoming him, so I added, “my condolences.”
I couldn’t see a way out for him, and I guess neither did he. “But why?”
“Improvising accident, I saw a potential Dashite, and I simply acted it out. You were not part of my plan, you’re collateral damage.” Go easy on him, Craft. We want him on our side, right? Then again, you never went easy on me, and we are on the same side.
“Co- collateral damage?” He couldn’t believe his ears.
“It is frequently used military term, referring to the incidental destruction of civilian property, or the deaths of non-combatants. But don’t worry, ponies that are usually caught in the storm of destruction that is yours truly come out on top in the end.” Craft can be very dramatic, if she wants to.
“What are you even saying?”
“I’m saying: if you follow me, you will be better off than when you try to do your own thing down here in the wastes. Do you want to take your chances alone, Mr. Expert-on-Wasteland?”
“I... ahh...”
“You cannot win this.” I feel like I should guide Craft’s new victim, after all we are in the same boat now. “What you should do right now is get some more rest. I can give you another potion to heal faster, but I’d like to go easy on our supply. You’re not in pain, are you?”
“Only when I try to move my wings.” He looked lost. I’ve probably had the exact same expression two weeks ago.
“We could always cut them off if you’d want to.” I was joking in hope to raise his mood somewhat.
“Hehe...” Yay, he’s chuckling. “You might as well, now...” Okay, this wasn’t what I planned on.
“Sorry, I tried to cheer you up, but that seemed to have backfired.” What can I do to help him? I could ask. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Well, yes. You could answers some questions. First of all: where are we?”
“Uhm... Secret underground lair,” I couldn’t come up with a better cover; I need to “which is actually not so secret anymore.”
“It looks like Stable-Tec design, but it doesn’t look like a regular Stable.”
“That’s right.” I could only guess. “I believe it was a custom build.”
“Okay, then: What’s your plan? Why were you in the clouds? What was your end game? And how did you trail of this plan when you...” Turbulence was still struggling with what to make of this situation. “When you figured you could make me... a Dashite?”
“That plan is a secret until we know if you are trustworthy.” Craft seemed to think hard, as if she decides if he's trustworthy already. “You understand that, right?”
“But is there a plan?” He dug deeper.
“There is a plan.” I confirmed.
“And what part do I play in this plan of yours, if I would cooperate?”
“That...” I looked over to Craft who gave me absolutely no hint of what’s on her mind. She was watching Cirrus’ regenerative process and had just encased her forelegs. “I have to consult with Craft.” Which I should do right now. “Now if you’ll excuse us?”
“Uhmm... ‘Excuse us?’” He repeated. “Can’t you-? You know what, nevermind, go. I’d like to think about all that alone for a while too. There’s a lot I have to process through...”
“Okay.” Craft backed away from the bed. “Well then.” Just before she left she turned her head again. “See you soon, Handsome.” A mane-toss later she walked out.
I only nodded to him and left too.
*** *** ***
“The dramatic mane-toss we talked about earlier? You saw how I did it?” Craft was mighty proud of herself.
“Yes, I saw. And no, it wasn’t a ‘dramatic mane-toss’ like we talked about, you were flirting with him! Why?”
“You can’t deny he is handsome, can you?”
“I... ahh...” I never really looked at him that way.
“You never really looked at him that way.” Stop reading my mind. “That’s okay, you only want foals out of a relationship, the father doesn’t have to be handsome for that.”
“Craft!”
“I don’t think you are lesbian, Aideen. I think you only have a problem with stallions for your continuous bad experience with them. Now you don’t even check them out, because may don’t want a bond with them. What I know about you is that you have way too much sexual tension built up. That is why I’d really want you to sleep with him.”
I had to stare at her for a while. “I thought you’d want me to sleep with Cirrus?”
“Free choice, you can even invite her in. You know, the more the merrier. It’s not my kink, but if you’re into that kind of stuff...”
“I’m not.”
“Look, you are an emotional mess. Work. Some. Of your. Tension. Off.” She’s right, somehow... But can I simply... sleep with Turbulence?
Beep, beep.
“What was that?” Craft inquired.
“I wrote a small program to inform me when the Memorhedron has finished charging... but this is too fast.” I had to checked it.
> Memorhedron is fully charged and ready to use.
> Next memory in queue: Family – April 13, 999
> Length: 0 hours 09 minutes 36 seconds.
> Load memory?
“Why has it loaded so fast?” I wondered out loud.
“Over-analyzing, Aideen. Doesn’t matter. You go watch your memory. I’ll search for fun stuff in our ‘secret lair’, as you’ve dubbed it. I’ll be back in... How long is the memory?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Then I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I’ll make up my mind on what we are going to do with Turbulence. If I’m not back I’m probably somewhere... I’m not leaving this floor though.”
“Okay, see you then.”
> Load memory?
> load
<=======ʌʌɅ Ʌʌʌ=======>
Spellfield was in his living room besides an empty fireplace, I recognized the positioning as the same as two memories ago. He seems to have found a spot he likes, I envy him for having something so mundane as a spot by the fireplace.
The book he was reading and making notes in (I could never write in a book) was written in a language I couldn’t understand, but from the graphs and notes he made in Equestrian I could figure it was a Zebra book about magic. Does he need these notes for his students? Who would make notes in a magic book. Well, Spellfield would probably do something like this for fun.
Then I could hear hoof steps outside coming down a stair, leading into the entrance room. “Ryde, where do you think you are going?”
“Out?” A voice, presumably Ryde’s, answered back questioningly.
“Come to me, son.” Spellfield called him ‘son’, he was objectifying Ryde. He then put his book aside, making an dogear into it, marking at the page he was. Why are you defiling a valuable book? Books weren’t the holy testaments of ancient wisdom as they are now, but you don’t do something like that!
“What is it?” Ryde was about sixteen or seventeen years old. Wait, let’s calculate, he was two months younger than Twilight Sparkle, so... Ryde is sixteen years and five months.
“What is this?” Spellfield pulled a small card out of Ryde’s jacket. “A fake ID?” A fake ID? What would Ryde need an fake ID for? As he didn’t respond to his fathers accusation Spellfield had to continue. “What kind of light would it throw on me if my son gets caught with this?”
Oh, this was that kind of talk. I haven’t been with my mother when I was a teenager, but I could still relate. Big Momma once caught me hoarding cigarettes I won at gambling. I don’t smoke, and I received a harsh talk about sharing and whatnot. I earned them legit, but she wouldn’t listen. As a teenager you cannot win against your parents, best thing to do is admit defeat and safe yourself the trouble. This is especially hard when you are right, and as a teenager you are always right.
“This fake ID, you acquired by means I don’t want to interrogate you about,” Spellfield burned the small card. Oh, incineration spell! I mean: ‘Oh, how evil!’ He continued, “is sloppy. You are under house arrest until you produce me a genuine fake ID.” I still don’t know what Ryde would need a fake ID for, but I know this wasn’t the direction I, or Ryde, had imagined this conversation to go. “There are two ways to do things, son.”
“So why not chose the right one.” Ryde seems to know that phrase by heart now. “You want me to make a fake ID?”
“I cannot stop you from being who you want to be, Ryde, nobody can. I know you can simply get a new one from wherever you got it, maybe you really made it yourself, but as a father I want you to do your best.”
“Is this, like, reverse psychology?”
“This term is never used in the right way.”
“But... is it the common misinterpretation reverse psychology?”
“No, you ARE grounded, I DID punish you, didn’t I? Make the best fake ID possible, and you are free to go, just don’t offer that service to your friends. That would get you into trouble. If you do this for your younger siblings, you are in real trouble, and if you tell your mother, you are dead.”
Ryde started grinning. “What kind of father threatens his son with death?”
“Maybe I’ll only make you wish you could die.” I felt a big grin forming on Spellfield’s face too.
“Okay, thank you, Dad.” Ryde turned to go, but looked back again. “So, uhm... I’m gonna go... do my chores now, like, you know, a responsible teenager.”
Spellfield levitated his book in front of himself again. “Do your best, my son.”
“You’re awesome, Dad.”
“House Arrest also means you are in bed at 10 pm.”
“Dad!” Ryde cried out in desperation as he spun around.
“Good night, Ryde.”
“Dad...” He has already lost.
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Ryde admitted defeat, and sighed. “G’night, Dad.” He turned one last time end walked up the stairs.
After a while a female voice came from the chair next to Spellfield. “You did good.” A zebra mare materialized on it. Oh, wow... I recognized Sarina, she was just... sixteen years older since I saw her a week ago. She had her hoof on a discreetly small golden necklace with an sapphire embedded into it; I could hardly believe it’s responsible for an invisibility spell.
Oh god, an invisibility spell! That would be the most awesome thing I could learn at the moment, Spellfield must have sensed it the entire time, but I didn’t notice anything. But Ryde didn’t notice it, maybe this was some kind of different magic? A kind of magic zebras couldn’t sense is a big deal, it once again scrambles what I think to know about... magic in general.
Wait, Sarina is there... Spellfield told Ryde she shouldn’t know about this. Wait... didn’t she praise him? “I feel awful. Ryde is sixteen, he shouldn’t go out to bars, or discos, or whatever.”
“We’ve been over this already.” She stood up from her chair and got closer to him. “How it has been until now we had no control over his youthful-rebellious behavior. Now that we build some trust, we can keep him on a leash while he thinks he has lots of freedom.”
“And you are the housewife and always home, you have to be the one who gives structure; and I have to be the cool dad, who gives freedom.” An interesting parenting strategy, but I wouldn’t know what it’s like, in the stable you simply did what you were told, in pre-war Equestria you could do pretty much what you want. “In their perspective at least. But sending our son out to drink?”
“We are horrible parents.” She hopped halfway onto Spellfield’s chair leaning over him. “Let’s take what we’ve learned from our mistakes and start anew.” Oh no, please don’t. She laid herself on him and nibbled at his ear. Aah, that tickles.
“You want another foal?” Spellfiel floated the book out of their way, then pressed his wife against him. Please, just... don’t. “Right now?” Oh god, I could feel... NO! Please! Memory! End! Now! My prayers were heard as the scenery faded.
<=======vvV Vvv=======>
> Save position in queue.
> Memorhedron is charging. 1%
> Not ready for use.
That was a close one... While I have to admit, it did feel kinda nice to be nibbled on, the affection hasn’t been directed at me, it’s quite as if I’m intruding on them without the ability to leave, or them being ashamed because somepony is watching. There was this topic again... sex... moving on.
Let’s analyze what I’ve just seen. Spellfield said to Ryde he shouldn’t make a fake ID for his siblings, plural, once he can do it good. That means Spellfield has at least three kids, and as far as I saw working on a fourth. And there was Sarina’s necklace which was really nice, but there hasn’t really been anything interesting else.
Why would this memory have been recorded, why is it important? The previous memory was kinda unimportant too, only symbolic, maybe. Spellfield started teaching Twilight Sparkle. What did this memory represent?
“I’ve found my fun stuff.” Craft was suddenly behind me, and scared the shit out of me. A fancy bow and a long, curved zebra-sword were floating in her magical grasp. “Was there anything interesting you picked up during your trip down memory lane?”
“No, just Spellfield being a father.” I sighed. “I think he’s a good one, I hardly knew mine.”
“Yeah, its a Stable Eight thing. You know who your father is and what he does for a living, but you don’t usually meet the guy.”
“My father worked in security. I know he surrendered the stable so we’d at least live. My Mom and I were already in Colt’s Well when the deal went off, but I don’t know what happened to him then.”
“My father...” Craft paused, she stared into her glass. It was almost empty, and she played around with it, watching how the liquid moved. “I don’t know his name, me and my siblings just called him Dad. Except for my oldest brother though, he called him like everyone else: ‘Toymaker’.” She sighed. “I always thought it was rude, because the things he created were just so beautiful.”
Is Craft actually telling something about herself?
“I loved every single one of them. I played for hours, maybe days at a time with them. I never discarded one, never grew out of one, and when one died, I even held a funeral. Can you believe that? Heh.” She laughed shortly about her younger self, but her tone was genuinely sad.
“What happened?”
“He left, abandoned us.” Craft started smiling cruelly, as if she would hurt me when telling me so. “Without speaking a word, he simply packed his tools and was gone before any of us realized it. We searched for him, of course. And the absolutely worst happened: We found him.” She was right, it hurt hearing her tell this in this neutral tone she just adopted. “For us he had always been the perfect being. We loved him so much, and we assumed he loved us too. You want to know where we found him?”
I couldn’t respond. I didn’t want her to relive those memories, they are hurting her so much...
“He was sitting in a new freaking shop.” She paused, and continued louder. “He was making new freaking toys,” Another pause, and she almost shouted the last part. “With a new freaking family!”
I had to stare at her in disbelieve.
“Ah, yes. I couldn’t believe it either. Do you want to know what happened?” No. “Too bad, I’ll tell you anyway.” She was enjoying my pain.
“Stop it, Craft, please.”
“He noticed us, and warded his new place against us. He was powerful like that. He didn’t even give us a chance of talking to him.” She’s not stopping, and the story is only getting worse.
I had to go. “See you.” I stood up and bolted out. I couldn’t bear that story, not like she tells it.
“After a while we met someone, because our city wasn’t warded against him anymore. He was my father's son from the city before ours. You want to know what we did?” She was shouting after me. “We went back and destroyed every single toy we could find! We-”
I slammed the door shut. “Fuck you, Craft.” There were tears in my eyes, I cried for her. Why? My life has been worse than hers right? I’ve got raped on a regular schedule for a few years, she only got abandoned by her father, but had prior to that a wonderful childhood. So why feels her story so much worse than mine?
*** *** ***
I stumbled into our makeshift hospital, not knowing what exactly pulled me there. I’m not usually one to seek pony connection in times of distress.
“Welcome back Ai-” Turbulence stopped and blinked twice. “-deen. You don’t look so good. Something happened? Are- are we under attack?” He sat at a table, playing chess with himself.
“Ah, no, we’re not. I just...” What am I trying to say? “I’d like to inquire about your family status.”
“Well, I’m not married, and there’s also no marefriend.” Oh, great, he's coming onto me. “And I’m not gay either.”
“That’s not what I’ve meant.” I rolled my eyes. “Parents and siblings. Would they search for you? What emotional issue is it for you to be away from them? And I’m sorry if I made you a new wound, but you’d get it sooner or later anyway.” Wait actually... it was a good thing that he is coming onto me, wasn’t it? “And I don’t have a special somepony either.” I sat myself opposite of him, and I lifted an incredibly beautiful rook. This is was something that should belong into a museum. Actually this is a museum, and what speaks again using the stuff in here? “Do you want to play?”
“Sure.” He started collecting the pieces, but I hushed him away and aligned them with my magic. Then I realized I just moved 32 individual objects at once. He obviously had no experience with unicorn magic so he didn’t notice anything weird. “My family is no issue, I’ve kinda always been the black sheep. I have a older sister, who I haven’t talked to since my mom died four years ago, and I rarely see my dad although we live in the same city. I’m probably declared ‘taken hostage and contaminated’, or immediately ‘dead’. I don’t think there is somepony ever officially been a Dashite, except for Scootaloo and a few others right after war.”
“Yeah, I’ve guessed that much.”
“My family won’t be an issue either.” Cirrus wasn’t asleep, and in the last half hour the Super Restoration Potion has mended her enough to speak normally. She was still looking really bad though.
“Cirrus.” She probably shouldn’t be moving right now.
“No siblings, and my parents never visited me since I got stuck as CO in Nine-Two. And even when we were still together we weren’t really a shining example of a family.”
“You got stuck..? You’re a sergeant...” Turbulence was counting two and two together. “Oh wow, that has gotta suck. Why didn’t you put in a transfer?”
“To whom? To myself?” When he didn’t respond Cirrus asked me. “What about your family, Aideen? And what is it about Craft?”
“I don’t know what exactly happened to my parents; I strongly assume my father is dead, though. I have a older brother, and he’s a solider for the Crimson Company. He might be a problem, but none I can’t deal with.”
“What’s the Crimson Company?”
I didn’t quite know how to answer that, but Turbulence talked first. “They are slavers.”
“Slavers?” Cirrus seemed confused. “Like...”
“They treat ponies like property, sell them, buy them, make them work in horrible conditions, and do pretty much whatever they want with them.”
“Oh...”
I need to change the topic. “So, Cirrus, What are you doing here, and how did you trace us?”
She was silent for a second. “Well, we listened in on what you were saying in the interrogation room, with a device under the table.” Craft could have assumed that much... I could have assumed that much! “Even the whispered things, and... and when you were gone... they...” She was at the verge of crying, oh damn. “One revealed to be Lieutenant Colonel, and Turbulence was only an initial test for you, and... and they...” I walked over to her, and tried to comfort her by wiping away some tears.
Turbulence seemed to know how the Enclave thinks, because he was able to continue her story. “They silenced everypony who know about her and wasn’t Enclave, leaving only you.” I assume ‘silence’ means ‘kill’ in this case.
Cirrus broke completely out in tears and tried to embrace me. Her cases kinda hurt, and I usually really don’t like being touched in general, but Cirrus needs this, so I put my forelegs around her too.
This was my fault... “I’m sorry.”
*** *** ***
Footnote: Level progress: 33%!
Quest: Memories of the Future
[ ] Find out why the Memorhedron has planted on you.
[ ] Optional: Watch as much Memories in the Memorhedron as possible (6)
Quest: Gaia Prevails
[ ] Investigate every room of the facility.
Quest: Emergency room.
[X] Render first-aid to Cirrus.
[X] Diagnose Cirrus.
[ ] Mend Turbulence.
[ ] Mend Cirrus.