//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: The Truth 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	“Get in,” said the man.  He indicated the open door of the vehicle he stood beside.
“No,” said Constant.  He wished he could have thought of something more impressive to say.
“I don’t really care.  I can kill you here, if you want.”  His weapon wasn’t visible, but the pony didn’t doubt that it was close at hand.
Constant glanced around to see if any police happened to be nearby.
“I’m not worried about the cops,” said the man.  “I’m sure you believe that I’ll do what I say.  Get in.”
Constant thought it was the hardest decision he’d ever have to make.  Attempt to escape now and run a big risk of getting shot, or go willingly and hope for a chance to get away later?
Better to die right there than in some unmarked grave, he decided.  He twitched, and his magic propelled a small chunk of brick from the ground towards the man’s face.  He threw up his hands to protect himself, and Constant bolted.
Miraculously, he made it to the street without getting shot.  He paused for a fraction of a second, thinking of going back inside the police station.  No, the cops weren’t trustworthy.  After all, they’d handed him to this killer.  He ran in the opposite direction.

“Did you hear that?” Daniels asked, turning up the radio scanner.  The two men and three ponies were still in the car, heading for the Navy Intelligence office.
“Car one three three seven, repeat that please.”
“Dispatch, we picked up a pony claiming to be Constant Clock.”
“Where was he located?”
The police officer running the radio in the car read off the approximate address.  “Do you know where that is?” asked Daniels.  Boyle nodded.
“Roger that,” said the police dispatcher.  “Bring him in.”
Boyle made a U-turn.  “I know where the closest station to that address is.  Let’s go pay them a visit.”
Pulling up in front of the building, they spotted two officers coming out and getting into car 1337.
“You go ahead, I’m going to talk to these guys,” said Boyle.  He got out of the car and walked over to the officers.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked one of them.  He’d opened the car door, and stood with a hand on it.
“You’re the officers who just picked up the pony?”
“Uh, yes sir.”  The cop was fairly young, and had no idea who the large man was.
“Chris Boyle, Navy Intel.”  He showed his ID.  “Was there any problem with him?  Was he hurt?”
The officer visibly relaxed.  The Navy man only wanted to ask questions.  “No, nothing wrong.  We dropped him off and Detective Smally said he would take care of him.  You guys must have been close to get here so quickly.”
“Something like that.  Did Mr. Clock tell you what happened?”
“He mentioned non-government doorways.”
Boyle nodded.  “You might want to keep that to yourself.”
“Don’t worry.”
Boyle thanked him and turned to go into the police station.
Inside, Daniels was having trouble figuring out where Constant had gone.  The lady at the front desk said that she remembered the pony coming in, but had not yet received a record of what had been done with him.
Boyle walked in.  He gestured over his shoulder.  “They said he’s with Detective Smally.”
The receptionist nodded.  “All right, I’ll page him.”  Within a few minutes, the Detective appeared.
The men and the ponies introduced themselves.  Something about the man’s expression changed when he heard who they were.  Daniels barely caught it, but it set him on edge.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said.  “Mr. Clock said some of his friends should be showing up soon.”
“What were his exact words?” inquired Applejack.  Daniels glanced at her.
“He said ‘They should be here in a couple of minutes’.”
“Where is he now?” asked Lemon.
“I’ve got him in a room in the back.  Come on.”
Smally lead them past the receptionist and down a hallway.  He opened a door to a small room with a table and a few chairs.  There was no one there.
“Where did he go?” asked Smally, sounding surprised.
Applejack nudged him, and he took a surprised step forward into the room.  “You lyin’ varmit!”
“What are you talking about?”
The rest of them crowded into the room.  Boyle closed the door.
“Constant wasn’t expectin’ anypony.  Even if he was, he woulda given you an exact time.  Where is he?”
“I don’t know!”
“Maybe not, but you know more that you ain’t tellin’!”  Applejack’s voice had gone low and hard.
“Hang on,” said Paper.  “Shouldn’t we be following correct procedure for this interrogation?”
Daniels reached into his briefcase and pulled out a tape recorder.  “Careful what you say, Detective.”
Smally’s face had gone white.  “I want a lawyer.”

Constant’s hooves pounded the pavement.  It had been four minutes, twenty-two seconds since he’d begun running and already his lungs were burning.
It was unclear what he should do next.  He didn’t know who he could trust, and without his passport he couldn’t go back through a doorway legally.  On top of that, he was getting hungry.
He decided to take a breather.  There was some vegetation to be found, even in the city.  He didn’t feel right eating grass from a piece of land he didn’t own, and he’d have to get a lot more desperate before he would consider stealing.  The lack of human money was a big problem.
He walked, still vaguely continuing towards the tall buildings from earlier.  He passed a vendor selling some kind of tubular meat product in a bun.  The smell made him forget his hunger.  No way could he eat after that.
Oh Celestia, Earth was a horrible place.  As soon as he got back to Fillydelphia, he was going to put down roots and never leave again.