//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Even Stranger 
// by SaltyJustice 
//------------------------------//

	Spiracle made sure to hold Thorax down as an enormous black beast rumbled through the center of the town, spewing water vapour and screaming in an unintelligible language at volumes which could deafen a lesser changeling.  She called it a 'Train'.  He called it an 'Abomination'.
He really shouldn't have been surprised, because he'd seen things somewhat like this on the rare occasions he had to get parts for the vats room from the steelworkers.  Those metal creatures weren't as big, and they didn't scream, but they did move on their own without anyone to push them.  The steelworkers just laughed at him when he asked how they did that.  He hadn't thought it anything worth pursuing until this giant thing came out of nowhere and threatened to destroy the town and everyone in it.
And yet, Spiracle and many other ponies calmly walked along the side of it as it lay in wait - for what, he could only guess at.  After he recovered, he hurried after Spiracle and saw something which explained everything without him having to ask - there were ponies inside it.  This metal creature/machine hybrid had been tamed by the ponies and they used its insides for transport, sitting in long rows and looking out narrow portholes as it moved.  A disinterested pony with a blue coat in gave him a condescending look as he approached.
"Ticket."
"What?"
Spiracle had already gone inside through one of the entrances, but stuck her head back out upon seeing his consternation.
"I've got it right here, look - " she held up the black paper from before.  Since there were two of them, these must have been the tickets he needed.  The coated pony gave him a nod before addressing some other pony who had come up alongside the beast.
"Ticket."
The pony held out the same black piece of paper.
Fascinating. 
He wanted to observe this curious go-between some more but Spiracle had grabbed him and dragged him aboard the beast and/or train, plopping him down across from her on a set of nondescript wooden seats.  The little room they were in was largely devoid of other ponies, though there were a few now also getting on the train.
"So what was that?  Was that the tickets - "
"I am no longer worried for our own safety, I am now worried for the future of our people." Spiracle muttered.
"But why doesn't he just let you on?  Why the tickets thing?"
"To keep ponies from riding without paying."
"But why pay?"
He was going to have a lot of trouble adjusting to currency, it seemed.

After a few minutes and a lot more screaming, the beast lurched forward and began to depart the town.  The narrow windows allowed Thorax to take a look at the world as it passed, and he resisted the urge to ask Spiracle anything further.  Despite all the appearances, he was content to learn what was really important:  Infiltrators let nothing faze them.  Whenever something insane happened, they didn't react, because ponies didn't react either.  There was no other explanation for it, this was the big secret, and Thorax had figured it out in under a day.
"Now, you already know your target.  Do you know what she looks like?" Spiracle asked, keeping her voice low so as to be only heard by Thorax.  The din of the passing landscape made certain their conversation would be secret.
"No."
"Purple unicorn, medium build.  Works in the library doing - well, I don't know what, but it can't be too complicated."
"Why don't you know?"
Spiracle gave him a look of confusion, though not the same as the other looks of confusion she had given him numerous times that night.
"Sparkle's top-top-top-top-secret.  I've been given these details precisely to give them to you.  I'm not even allowed to read your communications, and I gotta tell ya, I'm kinda glad it's you and not me on this job."
"How do you mean?"
This time it was the same confusion as all the other times earlier that day.  Fatigue mixed itself in as well.
"Let me put it this way:  If you botch a normal mission, they slap you around a bit and send you back out.  If you blow an agent's cover, you get two months cleaning the septic hoses, and they send you back out.  If you mess up this kinda job - exile."
"Exile?"  Thorax audibly gulped.
"That's if you're lucky.  In this case, you'd probably get a hit put out on you."
Thorax only let out a whimper.
"Relax.  If that happens, I'll show you how to cover your tracks.  I'm not going to let the Infiltrators bump you off to cover their own butts."
At last the gears clicked and turned in Thorax's head enough to ask something an Infiltrator would really ask.  A question that cut right to the heart of the matter and turned all lies inside out, revealing their contents to the world.
"Do you pity me?"
"Hell yes."

As the train chugged its way across the landscape, Spiracle tried to give Thorax a crash-course on Pony etiquette.  Smiling, nodding, talking, when to let others talk, when you're supposed to sleep, what the concept of "ownership" is.  Thorax tried to take it all in but had forgotten most of it by the time the next lesson began.  Spiracle just kept going on and on about a million little things that were different from how changelings worked - and then she finally told Thorax something he really needed to know.
"Oh yeah, and they don't even know what Nectar is.  Don't tell them!"
"They don't?"
"Nope, they eat veggies and fruits and grains.  We need Nectar, they don't.  Speaking of - "
Spiracle's shape-shifted form carried nothing on it, yet she was larger as a pony than as a changeling.  It seemed this was quite intentional, as she hid something clutched close to her flank.  After a quick glance around the sparsely populated compartment, she reached beneath the illusion and pulled out a narrow phial filled with the precious lifeblood of every changeling.
"Your week's supply.  Ration it carefully."
"This is all mine?"  Thorax asked, his mouth salivating of its own accord.  A single blob of drool escaped and made its way down his face.
Spiracle visibly shuddered.
"It has to last you a week.  Don't waste it and certainly don't lose it."
The open plains had given way to more forested terrain, signalling an arrival at their destination sometime soon.  Spiracle had done her best to give Thorax the general gist of the geography and culture, which was a wasted effort that both of them recognized the futility of, yet she did it regardless.  If nothing else, Spiracle quietly hoped Thorax would at least wait until the train had departed to blow their cover, and she would be spirited safely away to the next stop - where she would be arrested and imprisoned.
The other ponies in the compartment started shuffling and putting their things back in the bags they had carried on with them.  Thorax, having nothing, simply looked out the window as the scenery passed slower and slower.  As he glanced, he saw a spiral-shaped ridge laying just at the horizon, and sighed.  Spiracle heard him and looked out.
"Yes, that rock sure is depressing."
"Big day."
"It's just getting started kid."
"Excuse me," said somepony from behind them.  The same as before, he wore a blue coat and glared at them.
Thorax decided to take the initiative this time.
"Yes?" he asked, facing him full on.  He'd have to prove his competence to Spiracle.
"Your tickets.  One was for Ponyville, which of you was staying on the train?"
"Oh, me.  I'm staying."  Spiracle answered before Thorax could.  He cursed under his breath at her quick wit.
"What'd you call me?" she asked.
"Nothing."
The pony with the coat cleared his throat.  "Very well.  Might I see your ticket?"
Spiracle passed the ticket over and Thorax resumed looking out the window.  A hoof touched his head daintily and forced it back to face the coated pony.
"Everything seems to be in order here.  Welcome to Ponyville!"  the coated pony said, and walked off to harass the next passenger.
"He says that to everypony.  I've ridden these lines long enough to know he gets really sassy if you're not looking at him," Spiracle said, as though that were some sort of explanation.
The train slowed further and buildings appeared outside the portholes, then it screamed again and stopped.
"Where do I go now?" Thorax asked.  He received a dour look and no words as an answer.
"Sorry."

The platform he exited on was larger than at Dusty Dries, though not by much.  A few ponies were chatting as they walked,passing him to get on the train.  Thorax took stock of the situation, then realized he had no idea what he was looking at.  He could read the signs in the area at least, it seemed the writing was the same for ponies as for changelings.  Instinctively, he trotted up to a poster and busied himself reading it.
"For a good time, call VS - 1-800-555-7455"  
There was a lot about that he didn't understand, but a good agent tries to memorize little details.  One never knows when a little number like that is going to come in handy.  Thorax tried to come up with a song to help him remember, which is what he did to pass his chemical handling accreditation tests.  In fact, songs were a big part of his life, he liked to come up with them whenever he had been spending time staring at the monitor in the vats station.
Of course.  Queen Chrysalis must have chosen him because of his songwriting skills.  He could memorize any detail if he could write a song about it, he had already come up with a clever rhyme to help him remember the number of this "VS" pony, whoever that was.  A melody found its way out of his mouth and he hummed to himself as he departed the station.  No need to be nervous, no need to be scared.  It had taken a few tries, but now he had figured it out.
Ponyville was a surprisingly spacious and open place.  Compared to the hive, anyway, everything was so spread out.  At home, he was sleeping within two meters of a dozen other changelings, but here there seemed to be no barracks and no mess hall.  The town just seemed to extend randomly in every direction.  Buildings lay at odd angles to one another, roads would travel and turn and split.  There was a statue placed with no regard to anything at all, spitting water into a shallow pond, just inches from where ponies stood idly chatting.
Why weren't they working?  Ponies weren't rushing here and there, no materials were being hauled, save for one mare a long distance away pulling a cart behind her.  The town itself was quiet despite being the middle of the day.  No buzzing machines heard as their sounds rumbled through the walls, no clanging and cracking of stone.  Quiet, empty, desolate.
He had to focus, and remember what his job was.  The sudden longing for his old home, his old bed, had to be put aside for now.  This mission was vital to the hive's safety, for reasons likewise so vital he couldn't even know them.  If he had to suffer, so be it.  Courageous Queen Chrysalis was counting on him.

"So, then he says, 'Yeah, I scribbled your number on the wall at the train station.  Hope you like getting calls from every dingbat who passes through.'"
"And what did you say?"
"I kicked him in the mouth."
Vinyl leaned back and let out a sharp laugh, her glasses threatening to fall off her head at the staccato outburst.  She righted herself quickly and grinned.
"Did you break up with him, or was that just a typical night out?"  her roommate asked.  Octavia had only been half paying attention, as conversations with Vinyl rarely were about anything cultured.  Interesting, no doubt.  Cultured?  Less-so.  As was the custom, the rapid pace of Vinyl's speech left her scarcely any time to drink her tea, and it was getting cold.
"Well I broke up his teeth, ha!"  Another laugh, another glasses emergency.  She never took them off, it seemed.
"So that's a yes."
"Yes it's a yes, lighten up."
Vinyl decided to punctuate this particular jab with a literal jab, striking Octavia's shoulder.  Quick reactions saved the tea from spilling.  Octavia put the cup down anyway, it had cooled to room temperature now.
"Single again.  So it lasted a week?  Two?"
"Two months."
"I had no idea."
'Tavi looked around, hoping to flag down the waiter.  He wasn't anywhere to be found, though, and she resigned herself to staring at the cup before her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
If Vinyl didn't wear those glasses all the time, her piercing looks would have had a lot more impact.  When Octavia met her gaze, she saw only the thick magenta covering, and scarcely any emotion leaked through.
"It means you can't hold down a colt.  Are you going to be a teenager your whole life?"
"Fine, you tell me a funny story about a colt."
Octavia bit her lip.
She paused.
"Oh that's right, I forgot.  Miss Prissy Pants couldn't get a stallion to save her life."
"No!  It's just - "  'Tavi broke off in mid-sentence.  The sneer on Vinyl's face told her far more than words could.
"Just what?"
"You don't know anything."
Vinyl leaned back on her seating cushion, and had she not been wearing this glasses, her eyes would have communicated a look of triumph.  As it stood, she just looked like she was relaxing.  'Tavi, however, could only hide her eyes in her cooling teacup.
Scratch was right, she hadn't been with a colt in a long time.  She had kept telling herself it was just rough patches.  She had had to leave Canterlot after the housing market collapsed and her landlord tripled the rent.  Suddenly, her quartet was having serious trouble finding work, as nopony wanted to celebrate anymore, at least not enough to hire them.  She had tried out for the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra only to be told they 'had filled the position' some weeks later, unceremoniously.  Where had her life gone wrong?  She should have been first chair cellist!
Despite her demeanor, there was no greater friend than Vinyl.  Down on her luck and unable to even find a place to stay, Vinyl offered to take her in - the catch being she lived in Ponyville, and took the train to her gigs.  They had known each other since they met at high school, and while Scratch certainly was a fan of - alternative music - there was no questioning her talent.  Real shame she never took up the classics, she'd have made a great woodwind.  Possibly the clarinet?
"You could have anypony 'Tavi.  Anypony you wanted."
"Shut up."	
"Hey, I'm serious.  You're a great catch, you just don't put yourself out there to be caught."
"What am I, a fish now?"
Vinyl smiled.
"Does an octopus count?"
Vinyl had probably been waiting to make that joke for months.  Months.
"I like a hint of sophistication in my colts."  She countered simply.  The waiter had finally taken notice, and she nodded towards her cooled tea.  He picked up the cup and trotted off with it.
"You saying Ponyville has no sophisticated colts?"	
"Actually, that is exactly what I am saying.  Good catch, Scratch."
Vinyl frowned, but certainly wasn't disagreeing.
"I just don't think you have it in you.  You're scared."
"Eat a carrot, Scratch."  Octavia said.  That was about as close to a swear as she was going to get.
"What?  Never mind - I bet you - "
"No.  Oh no you didn't."
A line had been crossed.
"I am betting you you can't bed anypony by the end of this week."
A challenge had been proposed.  It could not be let stand.
"What are the stakes?"
"A month's rent."
Octavia sucked in her breath.  That was a big bet, considering her financial position.  Did she have it in her?  If she turned it down, Vinyl was going to act all smug for weeks.  If she accepted, and failed - would Vinyl really kick her out if she didn't pay?
And this would be a big problem for other reasons.  Word gets around fast in a town like Ponyville, everypony would know.  They'd talk about it.  It'd be a big deal.  Small towns were like that, kind of like high school all over again, except nopony really graduates.  They just stay in the same place and witter away about gossip all day.  Once a pony got old enough to retire, they'd sit on porches in rocking chairs - gossiping.
She'd need a very special victim.  One who wouldn't talk, one who didn't know anypony.  A traveler, or visitor.
Time Turner was a candidate, he would vanish frequently for weeks at a time, but he always came back.  A complication, that.
Big Macintosh was right out.  Octavia had heard that he already had a sweetheart anyway.
Lucky could do.  He kept to himself mostly, and Octavia had thought he was single.  Pretty cute to boot.
Blues was a nice guy, but he wasn't quite her type.  He was a country singer, which was, as Vinyl had once put it, "The rough equivalent of shoving a screwdriver up your nose to make it stop bleeding."  That presumably had made sense in whatever context she had put it in, but the imagery sure helped 'Tavi whenever the alternative was imagining country music singers performing.
Other than that, she didn't know any of the colts in town, or they were all married.  The dating pool was admittedly pretty shallow in Ponyville.  She'd need something better.
"I, uh - " she said.
"Come on, spit it out!"
Just then, a colt came trotting around the corner of the restaurant into full view.  Brown with a blonde mane, and some sort of chemistry set on his flank, he hummed a terrible tune wildly out of key.  She had no idea who he was, and she had never seen him in town before.
"You're on."