//------------------------------// // Chapter 15 // Story: Joe // by JMDARE //------------------------------// Yesterday had been pleasant despite the skilled puncturing of his bubble of conceit and today was shaping fair if tiring. Joe shifted his grip on the handles either side of the metal cylinder surrounding the upper end of a post, lifted it, and then brought it down again so the closed end struck and drove the post further into the ground. Despite the success of this he was still feeling rather dissatisfied. Whatever methods the ponyfolk used were obviously effective so that he could be effective in his own way merely brought him to close to their standard. Or perhaps it was just that after Spike had left things had been so quiet and peaceful. Nothing had happened to disturb a routine of housework and gardening and when he had done his nightly exercises and gone to bed there had been no unsettling dreams. Joe knew he should be grateful for this as it showed things were returning to normal, but he wasn’t sure he was. It may have been more that sticking to a routine had allowed him to not think about things, rather than an attempt to hide things from Ponyfolk, but Discord’s accusation that he’d been being acting boringly had been accurate. He could do with less excitement than Crocodiles and Manticores and Diamond Dogs and angry Twilight Sparkles but that didn’t mean no excitement at all would be welcomed again. “Ah’m off into Ponyville now,” Applejack said, breaking Joe’s thoughts as he gave the post another blow. “Going to meet the others at the library for us to all go to the station.” “Good luck with the games inspector and travel safe,” nodded Joe, “I hope the train is on time.” “You’d better hold Winona’s leash until ah’m out of sight,” Applejack suggested. Joe nodded and took the lead, and then had to brace himself as Winona strained to follow Applejack. There seemed little point to the dog of her-pony walking without that being with her but some stroking around the ears provided some consolation. Then Joe slipped the loop of the lead over one of the posts he’d driven in and Winona began sniffing around the area she could reach, her determination to find the edge of a interesting smell stronger than how securely the post was rooted. Seeing she had gained the attention of strange-but-somehow-right by pulling that askew Winona gave a wuff and dropped to tempt any onlookers with an expanse of tummy. It took a while for Joe to finish with the belly scratching and then drive another post deeper into the soil. Winona helped him keep rhythm by giving a little ‘awooo’ each time the cylinder came down with a ‘dong’ and seemed happy enough to have her lead transferred to the firmer fixed post, once additional ear rubs and jowl wobbling had been provided along with admiration. Then Joe worked back through the posts he’d thought he’d finished before he continued to extend the line of posts and to respond to skilfully deployed puppy-eyes. “Ah thought you’d be finished by now,” Big Macintosh commented, walking up. “Wuff,” agreed Winona, truly Joe was lazy. “I seem to have slowed down from paying attention to someone,” Joe replied, looking at Winona who gave a quizzically innocent head tilt, “but I have got all the posts in, despite having to go back and drive most of them in deeper.” “Worph,” said Winona, proud of having helped by showing they were not strongly rooted enough. “Ah can arrange the netting on the posts,” Big Macintosh suggested. “Apple Bloom and her friends should be out of school by now, and ah know the Cutie Mark Crusaders are meeting. So ah’d be a sight easier in mah mind if you went to see them with Winona and found out what they are up to.” “Are you trying to get Winona out from underfoot or me?” joked Joe. “Maybe both of you,” Big Macintosh said deadpan, “and let you keep Apple Bloom and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle out from underfoot as well.” “Alas, delusions of usefulness are punctured,” said Joe, a slight twinge of concern at how deadpan the huge red stallion had been, and whether he was joking or not, “what do you have to say to our exile Winona?” “Wuff,” Winona commented, confident she was not as useless as Joe but willing to go for a walk and be adored by Fillies. “At least I know you trust me to not go along with things,” added Joe, “for which I am glad.” “Ah trust you to help them, keep them safe, and not go too far,” Big Macintosh replied. “And that you don’t want a Granny Smith lecture again.” “All true,” nodded Joe. It was not far to the treehouse that had been Applejack’s as a filly and which now served as the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse. Winona tried to tow and speed the journey but Joe gave a few sharp jerks of the lead and a few sharp words to recall her to better behaviour. He didn’t mind her weaving about and snuffling and having to pause while she finished a snuffle but he was not going to let her set their course and speed. He was also not going to let her off the leash as he had doubts she would be as obedient to coming back to him as she would to Applejack. “Hallloooo the hut,” Joe called, feeling expansive as the treehouse came into view. Three filly heads popped out, Apple Bloom’s through the door and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle the windows either side. “Wuff,” said Winona, seeing her smaller pony-for-giving-fuss and approving that all three Fillies were present. “Joe, what you doing here with Winona?” Apple Bloom asked. “Your big brother sent us so you three could keep us out of trouble.” “Aruff?” Winona protested, querying if it was that way around. “Well come on up then,” nodded Apple Bloom. Joe clambered up with Winona, which was much less trouble for him than the filly-sized door was. “You know,” he commented as he wriggled through, “I’m glad there are Ponies the size of Big Macintosh so your normal doors are taller than they might have been, but I can see why he didn’t come here.” “Wuff,” agreed Winona, already being admired and stroked. “So, what were your plans?” Joe asked, deciding to sit as the door was not the only filly sized aspect of the treehouse. “We were going to get our skydiving Cutie Marks!” said Scootaloo. “Skydiving?” “It’s when you jump from really high up while wearing a thing called a parachute…” Scootaloo began to explain. “And when you get accused that using a tandem parachute harness sounds kinky,” smiled Joe, “as Rainbow Dash did to me.” “How can humans have skydiving?” Scootaloo protested. “You haven’t got wings!” “Neither do Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle,” replied Joe reasonably, “doesn’t stop them going up in an aeroplane, flying machine, or a balloon.” “What’s this about kinky anyhow?” Apple Bloom asked. “Rainbow Dash was talking about if she could carry me, rather than me carrying her,” said Joe, wishing he’d not mentioned the ‘kinky’ part, “and thought being strapped close and tight together sounded that. Though I think she was pulling my leg, despite me only having the two to pull, if you have skydiving.” “How so?” Applejack frowned. “Well, if you three were going to go skydiving…” Joe paused. “Which does sound like something Big Macintosh would want me to stop as if you’d got permission he’d have known about it.” The Fillies looked embarrassed. “But even if you had permission,” Joe continued, “for your first few jumps you’d probably be harnessed together with an experienced jumper even if you were taking it up as a hobby. And if you just want the thrill then a tandem harness is very useful, means you can have the fun of a skydive without needing to learn enough to be able to do it solo.” “That don’t sound useful to us,” Scootaloo said, “second part I mean, if we’d just be a passenger and the other Pony be doing all the work then how would we get our Cutie Marks from that?” “Good point.” “And we don’t have tandem harnesses,” Scootaloo added. “It also looks like you don’t have the same parachutes,” said Joe, nodding towards the poster he’d just noticed. “Classic dome shaped ones are very useful but I think human skydivers normally use ones that are more like the arch of a bridge, hmm…” “Hmm?” Scootaloo asked as Joe looked at her. “It might be worth troubling Sweetie Belle’s sister after all,” replied Joe before turning to the other filly. “After we’d established she thought tandem harnesses were kinky I continued to talk to Rainbow Dash about ways humans flew for fun, one of those was using the arch shaped parachutes, and she did ask Rarity if she thought she could make one.” “My sister can make anything,” Sweetie Belle nodded stoutly. “The main problem would be I’ve not much idea of the design,” agreed Joe. “But what were you looking at me for?” Scootaloo asked. “You can use the arch shaped parachutes to steer to the right field after skydiving, can use them for gliding after running down a hill, can be towed along and go up at the end of a line behind something as if you’re a kite. But one popular thing is to do the second thing but have a small motor strapped to your back so you can keep enough airspeed to keep aloft.” “Ah don’t follow,” commented Apple Bloom, busily working a hoof over a happy Winona’s underbelly. “Rainbow Dash would collapse or shred any parachute,” Joe explained, “whether she was towing someone with a line or, kinkily, strapped to someone’s back where the motor would be. But…” “But I’ve already got ‘motors’ on my back!” exclaimed Scootaloo, buzzing up into the air. “I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to fly better soon,” Joe reassured her, “but even one that could carry all three of you would have less drag than towing your friends in that wagon behind your scooter. Though it might be a little slow and boring, paragliding, or the oxymoron of powered paragliding, is for peace and quiet and good views rather than aerobatics.” “And the other Pegasi might laugh at me,” said Scootaloo, her enthusiasm fading. Joe sighed and nodded. “True, be like needing…” He shook his head, not sure if Ponies had armbands for swimming and confident they didn’t have bicycles and therefore didn’t have stabilisers. “I can think of things where some need to start off with that aid and those that don’t or don’t any more can be mocking.” “Though if she was carrying us as well then that would be different,” Apple Bloom said, “as that’s something they cain’t do.” “And should be possible,” nodded Joe again, “the three of you combined weigh less than I do so you could all be carried by a parachute that could carry me and I am sure Scootaloo is stronger than the sort of motor I’d have had strapped to my back.” “But I’m not sure I want them strapped to me,” Scootaloo said, remembering all the times they had grabbed her for group hugs. “Awwww,” protested the more tactile Sweetie Belle. “I think you could attach the parachute to a cart,” Joe mused, “but if you were going that far I might go all the way to a Microlight.” “My-grow-what now?” asked Apple Bloom. “Microlight, which though it is not an oxymoron is rather a redundant name, small not-heavy,” Joe replied. “They are deliberately simple aeroplanes that can carry one or two humans fairly short distances fairly slowly. Scootaloo could still push one or… you know how Rainbow Dash’s tortoise flies?” “Tank? Sure,” said Scootaloo. “Turn his helicopter rotor on its side and you get a propeller, use whatever magic makes it go and you’ve got a motor.” “Helly… you ain’t got machines that fly like that as well now?” Apple Bloom frowned. “A few varieties…” Before Joe could go into detail, or decide whether to mention autogiros, he was interrupted by a raspberry noise. Looking towards the source he saw Angel Bunny frowning that his arrival had not been noticed until he announced it. “Awwww, you are so cute!” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “Wuff!” said Winona. “An’ you’re a really cute pup as well Winona,” Apple Bloom reassured her. “Wrurp,” replied Winona, satisfied with that and the extra head stroking. Angel Bunny hopped across to the happily receptive Sweetie Belle and Joe leaned forward a little. “I thought Spike was supposed to be looking after you.” “Pppbbbtttttttt!” retorted Angel Bunny, folding his ears down and getting some strokes from Sweetie Belle. “Hmm, I did warn him you’d be trouble,” Joe commented, either that or the stroking bringing a look of satisfaction to Angel Bunny’s face. “Why do you say Spike should be looking after Angel?” asked Sweetie Belle, before distracting herself from the answer. “Aww, look at the little rollers in his tail.” “He mentioned he was pet-sitting,” Joe replied, “he’d be looking after Winona as well but Applejack had already asked me.” “Didn’t you want to stay with Spike?” crooned Sweetie Belle to the rabbit. “Pbbpppbbbppppptttttttt!” Angel Bunny said scornfully. “I’d better go find Spike and assure him Angel Bunny is safe,” nodded Joe, “and the walk into Ponyville will be some of the exercise Applejack warned me Winona needs.” “Whurf?” Winona said, interested in the idea of a walk. “I mean, look at her,” continued Joe, nodding at the contentedly sprawled dog, “can see why Apple Bloom’s sister warned me she could get wild.” “Wuff,” Winona agreed, she was a mighty wolf unless walkies. “Do you three want to look after Angel Bunny? He seems content.” “If we’re not going to be going skydiving, then sure,” Scootaloo replied. “Are you going to come back?” “Still got chores at Sweet Apple Acres, but I’ll have to come back to say if Spike is fine with this and being paid for nothing, or if he feels he needs to look after Angel Bunny since he’d agreed to do it.” “Prprpprrpppppbbbtttttttt!” commented Angel Bunny, making his opinion plain. “Good luck finding Spike,” Apple Bloom said as Joe reached for the end of Winona’s lead. “You think you could track him, girl?” asked Joe as he slipped his hand through the lead-loop. “Arurf,” Winona replied, giving Joe a confident gaze. It took as much wriggling to get out of the treehouse as it had to get in but Joe and Winona managed to exit and get back onto the ground beneath. Joe stretched to get rid of the feeling of confinement the filly-scaled surroundings had given him and Winona helpfully tugged at her lead while he was distracted. Having kept his balance Joe was the recipient of a soulfully innocent doggy look. Winona behaved for the walk into Ponyville though and it was only then that Joe realised he’d left his sleeves rolled up. A few days ago he’d have been worried about Ponies seeing the scars on his left forearm but after the conversation with Twilight Sparkle he’d realised that, and how much less spindly his forearms looked, was something of unconcern to anyone but him. There seemed little point in even the tiny amount of trouble required to roll the sleeves back down and then roll them back up when he got back to Sweet Apple Acres so he just continued to the Golden Oaks Library. Joe knocked on the door. “Spike?” he called. After waiting several seconds, and hearing nothing from inside, Joe peered in through a window. It was during the opening hours of the Golden Oaks Library but he didn’t want to just push the door open when someone opening the door at the wrong time could have been how Angel Bunny had escaped. However as he couldn’t see anyone or anything moving around and still couldn’t hear any activity he decided to risk it. Cautiously opening the door, alert for anything trying to go the opposite way, Joe peered around it. The library was empty and looked rather a mess. Joe looked down at Winona who was also surveying the damage. “Seems Spike had trouble,” Joe commented to her. “Wuff,” agreed Winona. Joe closed the door and looked around. “Excuse me,” he asked a passing Pony, “have you seen Spike?” “Spike? No,” the Pony said. “Thank you,” smiled Joe, the smile fading as the Pony hurried off. She’d seemed nervous so maybe there had been gossip? Joe shrugged, far more likely that she’d just been surprised by the question while she was thinking about her errands and had hurried off towards those rather than away from him. “Your turn now Winona,” Joe said, looking down at her, “find Spike.” “Arowl,” Winona said, looking as if she wondered why Joe had bothered asking the Pony first. Some sniffing and snuffling and Winona began to tug and this time Joe allowed himself to pulled in the direction of her choosing. Ponyville was not a large town by the standards Joe had grown up with but was large enough he was glad of the guidance and that provided when they began to meet Ponies who had seen Spike. Winona seemed to feel those few brief conversations were needless but even with their delay they soon caught up. Ahead of them Spike was towing a reluctant Opalescence, who was protesting her resentment of being on a lead, while Owlowiscious carried Gummy and Tank swung around semi-randomly on his helicopter rig. As Joe watched the swinging bounced Tank off Spike’s head and explained why the small Dragon was wearing a helmet. “You know,” Joe commented, Spike stopping and turning at those words, “there are humans who walk dogs for small fees, and they can be tempted to try to walk too many at once…” “Joe!” Spike interrupted. “You’ve got to help me!” “Relax, Angel Bunny is with the Cutie Mark Crusaders at their clubhouse and all four seem happy about it,” said Joe reassuringly, drawing a sigh of relief from Spike. “But when I was looking for you to tell you that I saw the library.” “Rainbow Dash was right,” Spike nodded. “She said I should critter-proof things.” “So Angel Bunny couldn’t escape?” “So Angel couldn’t get out while I was trying to deal with the damage the others were causing.” “Hwooo!” protested Owlowiscious, that was his home as well and he’d not been damaging it. Other than accidentally when he was flung from his perch by Tank landing on the other side of it. “I can help you tidy,” Joe offered, “before I go back to the Cutie Mark Crusaders to tell them if you want Angel Bunny back or not.” “If they want to look after Angel then I’m happy, but ask them to bring him to the library before Fluttershy and the others return.” “Will do,” Joe nodded. “And I’d appreciate the help with the tidying,” continued Spike, “I don’t want Twilight coming back and seeing the library like that.” “Right then,” Joe said. “You take Winona…” Spike gave Joe a puzzled look, but managed to grasp the lead. “And I’ll…” With that Joe grabbed Opalescence, who had spent the pause showing Spike a contemptuous shoulder and beginning to wash. Before she could react he’d stuffed her in the crook of his left arm, rear firmly held between arm and side and left hand grasping her front. She growled and gave a hiss, to which Joe returned a similar noise. “Shush grumpy puss,” Joe chided her, “and if you claw and bite me you’ll get icky human gunk in your mouth and on your paws and fur.” That argument seemed convincing to Opalescence so she contented herself with noises as Joe moved and reached out with his right arm to get a firm grip on Tank’s lead most of the way up it. Joe rotated his wrist a few times to wrap the lead around his hand. “I’ve got him now,” Joe assured Spike. Looking dubious Spike let go of the end of Tank’s lead. “Are you sure you don’t want a helmet?” “I should manage,” Joe replied, bringing his arm up and to the side so the tortoise on the shortened lead was well clear of his head. “Pfft, long arms,” muttered Spike. Despite Winona’s efforts to speed things it was only soon they got back to the Golden Oaks Library rather than very soon. They entered, Opalescence giving another growly noise as Joe bent, and Winona began sniffing the interesting smells all the Pony visitors had left. Spike shut the door behind them. “All the other doors and windows shut?” Joe asked. “Yes,” nodded Spike, letting go of Winona’s lead. “Good,” Joe said, releasing Opalescence. The white Persian hopped down from his arm and, after flirting her tail at them, bounced up the face of a bookcase, sending another book off the shelves, from the top of which she gave them a disdainful glare. Owlowiscious returned the glare and landed to deposit Gummy on the floor, then gave Spike a significant look. Recognising the ‘request’ by his fellow assistant-to-Twilight the Dragon released the lead from the Owl and Owlowiscious took off again to settle on his perch. Joe looked at Tank and then to Spike. “How do you stop these blades?” Joe asked. “They stopped when the thing came off Tank yesterday,” said Spike. “Do you want to ground him or shall we just leave him tethered?” “Ground I think.” Joe nodded and carefully brought his left hand in to catch Tank between it and the hand holding the lead, his right pressing against the ventral-front of Tank and his left the dorsal-rear. Then, still being careful of the whizzing rotor, Joe crouched so Spike could unbuckle the strap. To their relief as this came loose the rotor blades did slow and stop and Joe managed to not drop Tank as the pressure changed from the upward pull of the blades to the downward pull of gravity. “I tell you,” Spike commented, “Rainbow Dash was right, you don’t want to get hit in the head by a flying turtle.” “Tortoise,” said Joe, putting Tank down. “Tortoise, Turtle, what’s the difference.” “Among other things he’d have flippers rather than legs,” Joe replied, “and as he’d be used to swimming underwater he might be better at flying.” Tank gave Joe a slow blink as he tried to decide whether to be affronted. Then he plodded over to look at Gummy and exchange silent witticisms. Joe picked up the book Opalescence had just knocked down and she turned her nose up at him. Unfortunately for her that exposed the front of her throat and chest and Joe was tall enough to reach up and wiggle his fingers in that fur. Her expression showing how much she felt she was being tolerant and allowing him a favour Opalescence condescended to bring her head down and butt it against the hand so Joe could have the privilege of ear stroking. Not that he seemed to appreciate it as much as she felt he should as it was only a brief fussing before he went back to tidying. Winona carried on sniffing around as they tidied and Owlowiscious watched. That Twilight Sparkle was so organised and kept the library so neat with the help of Spike and Owlowiscious had made the mess look worse, but also meant they Joe and Spike knew exactly where to put things back. Tank and Gummy continued to exchange messages in ancient reptilian blink code and Opalescence turned herself into a mound of white fur as she tucked nose and tail and paws in and began to snooze, the blue ribbon on her head giving one of the only clues to which end was which. “Right,” said Joe eventually, “that looks more normal, and I should be getting back to people.” “Do you…” Spike began, hesitating as he didn’t really want to share, “do you want a slice of jewel cake before you go?” “You managed to bake that okay without the gem for Winona?” “Wuff?” Winona asked, agreeing she was worth a gem but not sure of the connection. “Twilight gave me some more gems and helped me bake it yesterday,” Spike replied. “And she helped me to not snack on the gems this time.” “Hwhooo,” commented Owlowiscious, who had seen the disappearance of the previous gems. Joe nodded. “I said you’d got a fine ‘big sister’ in Twilight. As to a slice of jewel cake for me I am sure it would be nice, but if I got a piece with a gem that would hurt my teeth rather than being extra delicious. So I’ll decline as I think you’d enjoy the cake so much more than I would, owe me some buns or something... deal?” “Deal,” Spike agreed. “Right then, come here Winona.” “Wuff?” said Winona, responding to her name and Joe patting his leg. Joe reached down and took hold of the leash Winona had been trailing behind her around the library. She looked happy as the interest of the smells was beginning to fade and tall-thing holding leash meant more walks. Joe took another look around at the calmly perching Owlowiscious, the snoozing Opalescence, and the blinking duo of Tank and Gummy. “Good luck with these four.” “Thanks Joe.” The walk back to the Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse was just as pleasant as the one the other way into Ponyville. As they continued along the path Winona happily checked if anything had happened and left a smell, seeming satisfied with the results whether positive or negative. With a sense of déjà vu Joe drew in a deep breath as he looked up at the treehouse. “Haaalllooooo the hut,” Joe called, adding, “again.” “Hi Joe,” replied Apple Bloom, sticking her head out the window. “Spike is happy for you to look after Angel Bunny,” Joe said, hearing a raspberry noise from inside the treehouse at the mention of Spike, “but he wants him brought to the library before it’s time for Fluttershy to collect him.” “Okay!” nodded Apple Bloom, her bow wobbling. Then she frowned. “You ain’t coming up?” “With the chatting and the trip into Ponyville I’m overdue to get back to your brother.” “Wait!” Scootaloo said, appearing at the other window. “You hadn’t finished what you were saying.” “Sorry Scootaloo, I need to be on my way.” “Hang on,” Scootaloo requested. Joe paused as the faint sound of a discussion floated down to him, and then the door opened. “I’ll walk with you a little way.” “Sure,” nodded Joe as the small Pegasus buzz-flapped down to join him and Winona. They started to walk and went a short distance before Scootaloo spoke again. “So, flying machines with wings?” “Rigid wings, the analogy I used with Rainbow Dash was an Albatross, but with a motor to give forward speed rather than any flapping.” “Why not just make the wings flap?” Scootaloo asked, looking puzzled. “Why not make a machine with legs rather than a steam locomotive with wheels?” asked Joe in return. “Er.” “Snarkiness aside,” continued Joe, “you shouldn’t underestimate how intricate wings like yours are. At least I am assuming the feathers aren’t deceptive and they are quite bird like?” “I think so,” Scootaloo replied, though she’d have said bird wings were quite Pegasus like. Joe nodded and raised the arm that did not have a leash with a dog on the end of it. “Bats can actually reshape their wings even better,” he said, spreading the fingers of that hand, “as their wing membranes are on their ‘fingers’ but…” Joe closed his hand into a point. “Even three joints can create a lot of variety in how the wings move and the shape of them. Plus the different feathers in different parts of the wing are different shapes and they are quite complex in the curves of their cross-section and their asymmetry to provide lift.” “So you make ‘wheels’ rather than ‘legs’?” Scootaloo asked as Joe brought his arm down. “Keeping the wings rigid does work well for gliding birds,” nodded Joe, “and we’d already made gliders, so keeping the ‘glide’ going was the next step. The problem was power and control. I mentioned something called a hang glider to Rainbow Dash and that’s light enough that a human hanging from one part pushing and pulling a control bar fixed to a different part can steer it.” “Eh?” Joe paused and looked at the path. Deciding it was fine grained enough he crouched and sketched in the dirt with a finger as Winona and Scootaloo watched. “If the bar is neutral then is like a rectangle from the side…” “Right.” “But if the human pulls back then the bottom part of the rectangle gets shorter and the angles have to shift, and the human is heavy enough that the wing shifts position rather than just them. So you can steer pushing and pulling forward and back and left and right.” “Got it.” “Wuff,” agreed Winona. “But,” Joe said, straightening and smoothing the path over with a sweep of his boot, “if you are putting an engine on the ‘glider’ then its heavier by the weight of the engine and by the extra amount of wing to carry that weight. So that method wouldn’t work.” He started walking again. “That said I think some hang glider fliers do strap an engine to themselves, so it is on them rather than on the glider…” “And I have my ‘engines’ on me,” said Scootaloo, buzzing up into the air and doing a circuit of Joe. “And the magic here solves the problem with power,” Joe nodded. “Tank’s rig has a good power to weight ratio so if it was on the wing it wouldn’t make it that much heavier compared with what was hanging beneath and if it was on what was hanging beneath it wouldn’t make that too hard to shift, especially since the magic here also makes Ponies stronger.” He rubbed his head and small smudge onto his forehead from the dirt clinging to that finger. “I hope you are not as confused as I am.” “I think I am following you.” “Good,” Joe nodded again. “Thing is that engines and propellers and wings have improved, to say the least, so I say how the hang glider control method won’t work, meaning when aeroplanes were invented, and then say maybe it would work, meaning with modern technology or the magic here.” Scootaloo nodded back. “And if I am pushing then I can steer by changing the direction I’m pushing.” “That should work,” Joe smiled. “Is that how humans ended up steering their ‘aeroplanes’?” “It’s a way to get a bit more agility to them, change the direction of push, but… you have rudders on boats don’t you?” “Yep!” “Similar idea, parts of the wings or tail or fin folding up and down or side to side. Changes the shape of the wing very crudely compared with a bird, or Pegasus, but gives pitch and yaw and roll.” “I think my wings are better,” Scootaloo said with pride. “And I’d agree, from what I’ve seen of Pegasi you’ll have a lot more agility and control and flexibility.” “So if we were going to make one of your crude flying machines…” “Crude because I’m not an aeronautical engineer, I’ll admit humans can’t build flappy-wing machines but when you can get that much speed and range and carrying capacity out of fixed wing plus engines the need seems less.” Joe chuckled. “Of course I’m not sure how much Rainbow Dash can carry or how far she can fly, but she’s very fast and agile.” “She is!” Scootaloo agreed, barely restraining herself from more gushing and squeeing. “Not sure what we’d do though Scoots,” continued Joe, slipping towards more informality as his thoughts distracted him. “I can sketch what I remember and we could build models, but might be better to also work out the physics.” “Wuff,” Winona said, agreeing that proper preparation prevents poor performance. Since she was a lady she did not use the extra p word that meant urine. “Not sure you’d have needed aeronautics, since you have Pegasi who can fly rather than needing machines, but I’m sure there are Ponyfolk who have studied how Pegasi fly. There’s also that moving gas and moving liquid follow much the same rules so fluid dynamics would apply.” Joe stopped and gave Scootaloo a smile. “Twilight Sparkle would know more about this, so we’d need her help if we wanted to avoid trial and error.” “Couldn’t you just make a model and, once it worked, scale it up?” Scootaloo asked. “I could, or rather we could,” nodded Joe, “and we probably would. But even if the model worked perfectly we’d still need some maths. Not everything scales up the same and I’m not what scales up how. For instance I’m pretty sure a wing’s lift depends much more on its area than its volume, but the weight its supporting would be going up as the cube rather than the square.” Scootaloo looked blank. “By the size times the size times the size,” Joe explained, moving one finger left to right, forward to back, and then down to up, “not the size times the size,” moving the finger through only the first two motions. “Ah.” “But we could manage something Scootaloo, and making the models could be fun even if you three decide that making a Microlight, Pegasus powered or otherwise, would be too much.” Scootaloo nodded. Then she looked at Joe as he dealt with a determined attempt by Winona to reach a scent that was significantly off the path. “Joe?” “Yes?” “Do you want to do this?” “Hmm,” Joe mused. “I don’t see the harm in doing it, and there’d be satisfaction in figuring it out and if we succeeded, or at least failed impressively. It’s not something I was going to do for myself, but I think I know enough to be helpful and I like you and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle enough that if you were having fun I’d be happy to help.” “Okay. Thanks Joe!” With that Scootaloo turned and galloped back towards the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse, her leg speed increased by the occasional buzz of wings. Joe paused and wondered if he’d got himself into something better avoided. Even discounting if this was cautious enough to suit the warning from Princess Celestia, which still preyed on his mind, there was the problem that Twilight Sparkle had touched on. Joe knew there were many holes in his knowledge of flight so, just as she had suggested about his strength and fitness, this might be something that would have been more satisfying kept as a secret rather than being tested and the weakness exposed. Brooding on this a little despite the antics of a happy dog Joe continued on to Sweet Apple Acres and was pleased to see a huge red stallion. “Wuff,” said Winona, greeting Big Macintosh. “Howdy Joe,” Big Macintosh said, turning and nodding to him. “Arf?” asked Winona, puzzled as she’d been the one to speak. “An’ to you Winona.” “Hello Big Macintosh,” Joe replied, as Winona looked satisfied with her greeting being returned. “Sorry for being so long.” “Ah was beginning to wonder.” “The Cutie Mark Crusaders were thinking of skydiving.” “Skydiving?” “Fortunately I distracted them a little…” “Wuff.” “As did Winona,” added Joe at the reminder, “and then Angel Bunny arrived and your sister and Sweetie Belle decided rabbit sitting was a better plan.” “Ah note you didn’t say Scootaloo,” Big Macintosh nodded, “and ah take it you had to go tell Spike where th’ bunny was?” “Had to find him, which Winona was very helpful with, weren’t you girl?” “Arf!” said Winona, she of the tracking nose. “But back now rather than skiving with the Fillies.” “Ah’d have not minded you ‘skiving’ as they do take a mite of looking after,” Big Macintosh reassured Joe. “But as you are back ah can think of some things you can help with here.” “Lead on then.” Big Macintosh did and between them, and Winona, they managed to get some useful work done in the few hours until Applejack returned, trailed by Apple Bloom. “Look what ah found at the library,” said Applejack, “and ah hear Spike had some help with the critter sitting.” “You do?” Joe asked. “Ah do.” “Apple Bloom,” Joe said, looking to the filly from the mare, “I’m not sure Spike wanted you to still be there when your sister and the others got back. Or to say you’d been looking after Angel Bunny rather than him.” “He told Fluttershy before she asked,” replied Apple Bloom, with a little pout. “Fair enough then.” “And ah meant you,” Applejack added. “The spot of tidying and organising.” “Was only a spot,” shrugged Joe. “You want to join us for dinner?” Applejack asked. “And before you say it we don’t mind the sweatiness you’ve got from the hard work here.” “Eee’nope,” agreed Big Macintosh. “Whurf,” Winona added, hoping tall-thing would be susceptible to puppy eyes at the table. “That is very kind of you,” nodded Joe, “and I would like to hear how you got on in the Crystal Empire. All go well?” “Hoowhee, not at first, though it turned out well in the end,” Applejack replied. “But it’s a mouthful of a tale so let’s be getting our mouths full of other stuff while I tell it?” “And Granny Smith will be interested as well,” added Apple Bloom. “Eeee’yup,” agreed Big Macintosh again. Once they had washed some of the dirt off and Granny Smith had successfully repelled Joe’s offers of help with cooking or serving they settled down for the meal. Joe was glad they’d let him have a knife and use that and fingers rather than having to eat from the plate, and he knew forks were a relatively recent invention so that was enough cutlery. Some of the vegetation looked as if it would escape without much changing appearance though. “…so we got to th’ spa,” Applejack said, having dealt with the train journey and the rehearsals of the song, “and Princess Cadance was right welcoming. Ah thought to mahself that Rainbow had been getting too het up over the whole caboodle, but then a Pony arrived with two messages. The first was that th’ Princess’ hair stylist had th’ flu and didn’t want to risk the Princess catching it, so Rarity had to step up and deal with the ceremonial headdress.” “I’m sure she did an excellent job,” nodded Joe, trying to chew something into submission despite his teeth. “That she did, once she’d managed to finish,” Applejack smiled, “which didn’t take her that long really, but took longer than we had because th’ second message was that the games inspector was on the next train rather us still having hours. So off we went to meet the Pony with the flowery luggage… frowning there Joe.” “I wasn’t meaning to,” Joe replied. “Not enjoying the food?” asked Granny Smith, alert for any hint of ingratitude. “I’ll admit some will pass straight through me,” Joe smiled, “but it tastes nice and the company makes it even nicer.” “Pissht boy,” growled Granny Smith, instantly switching from one attitude to the opposite, “ah appreciate the politeness but ah ain’t a good host if ah don’t worry about mah guests digestion.” Joe glanced at Winona and decided to not say it would be like if she or Opalescence had eaten some grass. Dogs and cats did sometimes do that and he recalled sometimes having to gently draw a blade or two out when it had looked like the pet had a second green tail below the first. Hopefully this would just come out through the muscles of that exit rather than needing the extra aid though. “So what was the frown?” asked Applejack. “You said things went badly wrong before they turned out well,” Joe replied, “and the way you said it made me wonder about how common flowery luggage might be.” “Eeee’yup,” agreed Big Macintosh. “Weren’t so obvious at th’ time, but yep,” Applejack smiled, “we met a Pony at the station and she was nice and she had flowery luggage, and took a while for us to realise she was not the games inspector.” “Oh no!” piped Apple Bloom. “What did you do sis?” “We did our welcoming song back at th’ castle, then we were hoping Princess Cadance would be there,” Applejack continued. “Th’ list for the headdress was as long as our barn but there’d been a little time before th’ train and we’d not rushed the walk from the station to the castle. But there was no sign of the Princess so Rainbow suggested we give a tour of the castle… did you just wince there Joe?” “I spent some time volunteering at a castle, helping with re-enactments and tours, and I know it can be harder than it looks.” “Twilight had the same feeling, and she was right,” nodded Applejack. “We weren’t doing so well while she went to see about her sister-in-law. We’d barely seen the inside of th’ castle so hard enough just not getting lost.” “No local ponies to help?” Joe asked. “They were all busy with the sprucing up.” Joe slowly nodded. “Fair enough, I suppose. Though I’d have thought there’d be some guards or somepony sprucing inside the castle.” “We were keeping an eye out for anypony who’d be able to help, and when Twilight returned to tell us Rarity was still working she went to get her brother.” “Eee’yup,” said Big Macintosh, pleased at the idea that a big brother was turned to. “He’d been living in th’ castle and all, so likely he’d know it better than us, but then more went wrong.” “Oh no!” Apple Bloom piped up again. “Wuff,” agreed Winona. “Th’ Pony we’d met wanted to stretch her legs, seemed quite frantic about it, and she ended up finding the way to th’ sports field.” “That doesn’t sound bad,” frowned Granny Smith. “Twas when she started running round th’ track and getting in the way of the athletes, then worse when she managed to get a pot on her head and panicked and ran off.” “That is… er,” Joe began, before deciding against the sentence. “What?” said Granny Smith, her frown becoming fierce rather than puzzled. Joe decided to not say this Pony sounded like a horse from his world, one that would try to kick a stable or horsebox to pieces or would panic and rush off if something startled it. “That is not sounding good,” he said instead, not fooling Granny Smith. “Rainbow managed to catch up and get the pot off, but when the rest of us caught up that was when we realised we had the wrong Pony. She was just so surprised when Shining Armour said she’d been expected that Twilight finally asked straight-up if she was the games inspector.” “Eeee’ouch,” commented Big Macintosh. “So we went back to th’ station and of course the actual games inspector wasn’t there,” Applejack continued. “We were going to search all organised like but then Pinkie Pie said we didn’t need to look in the Spa as if she was there, where Princess Cadance still was, then we’d no hope. So of course we went there as with th’ way our luck had been going the worst place would be the place the games inspector would be. And she was.” Applejack looked at Joe for a moment. “I’m out of frowns and winces,” Joe smiled. “Ah ain’t,” said Big Macintosh, breaking his usual expression of calm with an exaggerated… almost Pinkie Pie like… look of shock. “We thought all was lost,” Applejack continued, as Apple Bloom giggled at their big brother. “When we arrived Rarity called to us that Princess Cadance was ready and that made th’ games inspector realise Princess Cadance was there. She began complaining about having not been welcomed and Rainbow admitted the mistake we’d made, and how much she regretted that we’d messed things up for the Crystal Ponies…” “What then?” asked Apple Bloom as Applejack let her voice trail off. “But then the Pony we’d been showing around spoke up, she’d also gone to the Spa and been telling the games inspector all about how well we’d welcomed her. Ah’m not sure ah’d think that made up for the mistake and how poorly things had gone, but th’ games inspector had been impressed. Something about an unbiased opinion.” “Hmm, can get used to things,” Joe mused. “If everywhere she went she was welcomed and pampered then that would seem normal.” “Ah think you might be right, th’ other Pony seemed right pleased with our efforts so that might have reminded th’ games inspector how unusual it was.” “So?” Joe asked. “Yeah, so?” added Apple Bloom, giving filly eyes. “Wuff?” Winona said, though her question was more directed towards Joe and if he was going to eat that crunchy tasty thing. “So she awarded th’ Games to th’ Crystal Empire!” said Applejack. “We’d done it!” “Yay!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Eee’yup,” nodded Big Macintosh. “Fine work,” Granny Smith said. “Whruf,” added Winona, having finished devouring what Joe had given her. “Indeed, excellent news,” Joe agreed, then he chuckled. “Though as it was your efforts it almost seems she should have awarded it to Ponyville.” “Ah don’t think we’re a big enough town, Joe,” winked Applejack. “I did say almost.” “Eeee’yup,” agreed Big Macintosh. “And ah’d not want the houses intruding on our orchards anyhow,” Granny Smith added. Joe nodded. Based on the agreement by which he had leased the land for his hut and the surroundings he suspected that had been Granny Smith’s decision. It was her family that had been given the first land grants here by Princess Celestia so whether the other settlers had been given their own grants or whether at least some of them were only leaseholders was a question that was none of his business. That they had been able to afford to rebuild their barn so often suggested the answer though. “So, hail the… ack,” Joe said, distracted by his thoughts for a moment too long. “Hail the ‘ack’?” teased Applejack. “Ah think you forgot the most part of mah name.” “More of your trying ta not cause offence?” Granny Smith said, beetling one eye at Joe. “‘Hail the conquering hero comes, sound the trumpet, sound the drums’,” sighed Joe. “Which has become metaphorical, someone returns with success and you say ‘hail the conquering hero’, but is still a rather violent saying for these parts.” “Eeee’yup,” Big Macintosh agreed. “Ah still like you,” said Apple Bloom reassuringly. “Still, story’s over and you’ve finished eating,” Granny Smith said. “True,” nodded Joe, not taking offence at the abrupt dismissal, “do you…” “And ah don’t need any help with washing up. Not ready for the coffin yet you know.” “I pity any spirit of death that tries it before you are ready,” agreed Joe. “Hmph!” “Goodbye Joe,” Applejack said as he rose. “Bye Applejack, Apple Bloom, Big Macintosh,” replied Joe with a nod to each in turn and then a deeper nod as he finished, “and to you Madame Smith.” “Ah said before to not ‘Madame Smith’ me,” Granny Smith glowered, then she winked, “but I’ll accept it this time.” “Wuff,” agreed Winona. “Bye Joe,” Apple Bloom said. “Eee’yup, night to you,” nodded Big Macintosh. With the round of farewells complete Joe left and Apple Bloom went to play with Winona in a different room while Granny Smith shooed Big Macintosh out of the way of her and Applejack collecting plates together. They took these into the kitchen and put them near the sink for when someone managed to volunteer or be volunteered for the washing up. Then Granny Smith looked at her elder granddaughter. “You invited him to dinner and trusted him with your dog, do you like that boy?” “He’s a friend,” Applejack replied. “That ain’t what ah meant.” “But it is what ah meant, and mean.” Granny Smith nodded, feeling some relief as even if Joe had shaped up a little he was still a funny shape and still not that hard a worker. There wasn’t much more he could be doing around Sweet Apple Acres, only so many chores to go around, but she was sure that he could find more to occupy himself. Three days a week here and a morning each week for Zecora left him a lot of spare time to be lazy, even if she had to admit he didn’t slack off when he was working. “Good,” nodded Granny Smith, “that means ah can show him your filly pictures.” “Granny!”