//------------------------------// // 1. Washington // Story: Railroad Seven-Three // by Defoloce //------------------------------// Her love rains down on me as easy as the breeze I listen to her breathing—it sounds like waves on the sea I was thinking all about her, burning with rage and desire We were spinning into darkness, and the earth was on fire -Pink Floyd, “Take It Back” Gavel watched the air-carriage slip away into the clouds, leaving the parking lot of the Conversion Bureau far behind and disappearing into the darkening sky. He sighed and looked down at his hooves. They were nearly the same color as the gray, cracked asphalt beneath them. He couldn't seem to get away from it, it seemed; he'd traded in his gray hair for a gray coat. Gavel chuckled. He didn't mind, really. Perhaps, not too long ago, he would have, but now that he was a— "I'm sorry, my little ponies, but the air-carriage won't be back for two more weeks," said the pony standing in front of him. Gavel looked back up and into the face of the pretty young unicorn mare, a clipboard hovering by her head. She gave him a pleasant, apologetic look, and he returned it with a smile. "Oh, that's all right," he said. "I guess another two weeks of a comfy bed and good food is something I'll just have to live with." "I'm sorry, Tidy Sum, I think I misheard you: two weeks? It should only be a matter of hours to get to the Barrier and back!" Gavel looked over at his company. Aside from himself, two other ponies had been left behind there in front of the Conversion Bureau. One was a unicorn, dark green with a gold mane and eyes to match, two crossed wooden spoons for a cutie mark. Gavel knew her well enough; she had been one of the cafeteria workers. She was a native Equestrian, and, for the moment, she was rather upset. "It's the rush, Sugar Spoon," said the unicorn with a shrug. "You saw how packed that carriage was, and that's the biggest one operating in the region! Hay, we probably violated about a dozen safety regulations cramming in as many ponies as we did." Tidy Sum's erstwhile co-worker let out an exasperated grunt and pawed at the smooth white line under one hoof. "Ugh. Three months and I already can't stand this place anymore." Her eyes widened and she looked back up at the two ponies next to her. "Uh, no offense." The other pony, Melody, was a bright red pegasus, and a newfoal like Gavel. She shrugged a little and smiled. "None taken," she said, flipping her long pink mane out of her eyes. "From the pictures I've seen of Equestria, I guess our world could seem a little... bleak." "I think we have it easier," said Gavel with a grin. "We've had time to get used to it." The two newfoals chuckled at each other, buoying Sugar Spoon's mood somewhat, but still not enough to make her forget she wouldn't be seeing Equestria for another two weeks. "So what now?" asked the pegasus, turning back to Tidy Sum. The blue unicorn pursed her lips, using her magic to flip through the leaves of paper on the clipboard. "Well, that carriage has to make runs for us, for Richmond, for Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and..." She flipped another page. "...and now that Dover's closed down, it's taken on Raleigh. Factor in shift changes, meals, carriage maintenance, and roster adjustments, and... yeah. It's a lot of work for those pullers." "Raleigh!" Gavel went to whistle, but he hadn't quite mastered his new pony-lips yet. "Not exactly a stone's throw from the coast." Tidy Sum nodded. "Not for pegasi having to pull carriages that large, no, certainly not." "Is it... is it really that hard?" asked the newfoal pegasus, her ears drooping. Sugar Spoon walked over and nuzzled her friend. "Aw, don't worry, Melody, it's not like they'll be strapping you into one of the pullers' seats! All you'll have to do is enjoy the ride. Flight practice'll come later." "Actually, I guess I have two weeks to kill, so I might as well practice here," said the pegasus, looking up at the sky. She gave her wings a tentative, experimental stretch, and her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. Melody's wings snapped back to their folded position, betraying her embarrassment. Tidy Sum giggled and shook her head. "A newfoal trying to fly on an empty stomach? That's a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one." Sugar Spoon nodded her agreement. "All things in their time, Mel," she said. "Besides, I've got a more appetizing recipe in mind for you two." Gavel's ears perked up past his charcoal mane. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Cinnamon Eye-Rolls?" The unicorn smiled slowly, then nodded. "Cinnamon Eye-Rolls." The two newfoals looked at each other, grinning ear to ear. * * * "Spoon, I don't know where in Equestria you're from, but wherever it is, they gave up a lot letting you come to Earth," said Melody between bites of her glazed cinnamon roll. The cafeteria was quiet, shut down for the night. Everyone, human and pony alike, were asleep in their respective quarters, but Sugar Spoon had surreptitiously opened the kitchen back up to make consolatory Cinnamon Eye-Rolls for her fellow stuck ponies. "Haha, slow down, Mel, or you'll get a tummyache!" chided Sugar Spoon, batting the pegasus with a hoof. "Besides, I am but a humble pastry chef; I'm sure Fetlock has done just fine without me." "Well, when we get to Equestria, I'll ask them," she said with a quiet giggle. "I think they might chain you to your kitchen's island on sight!" "They just might!" agreed Gavel, halfway through his own roll. "Before I came here, Melody, let me tell you... not since my mother cooked for me at home. That's how long it's been since I've had food this good." The pegasus gazed at him, mouth agape, flecks of frosting and crumbs visible in her teeth. "But for that to be true, it'd have to be hundreds and hundreds of years ago!" Gavel chuckled and narrowed his eyes at her. "Ohh, watch your tongue, little missy. I may be old, but I'm feeling better than I have in... well, hundreds and hundreds of years, to hear you tell it. I can still get around to boxing your ears, if I need to!" He then stuck his tongue out at her, flashing his own array of frosting and half-chewed cinnamon roll. They all laughed, Gavel hardest of all. It was true enough; he hadn't felt so young—so unburdened—in many long years. He had been afraid, while still human, that he wouldn't be able to think of a pony-name for himself when the time came; he didn't think he had the mindset for it. As it turned out, though, he was one of the lucky few newfoals to get their cutie mark as soon as they converted. His cutie mark had pretty much decided the name for him, and he certainly wasn't complaining. The sound of a delicate, feminine voice clearing her throat made them all freeze. "And just what are my little ponies doing out of their quarters after lights-out?" asked Tidy Sum with her trademark pursed lips. Sugar Spoon turned to face the other unicorn with a pouting look. "Aw, come on, Sum, we're just trying to get un-bummed about not fitting on the carriage! Surely you can overlook it just this once." Tidy Sum stood there, lifting her chin and looking down her nose at the forlorn trio with narrowed eyes. "Hmm... I think I might be able to recall having never gone into the cafeteria tonight... for a price." The forest-green unicorn grinned. "Lemme guess," she said, "you want a Cinnamon Eye-Roll." "I'm not asking for anything," Tidy Sum was quick to reply, "but I must say that things such as Sugar Spoon's world-famous treats can drive me to distraction from my duties... duties such as making sure everypony is in bed after lights-out, for example." Her mouth crept up into a small smile, despite her efforts. "Say no more!" cried Sugar Spoon, rearing up and charging back into the kitchen. * * * Melody felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. "Mel. Mel, wake up!" It was the voice of her roommate, Laura. Melody cracked open one large blue eye to see orange dawnlight spilling over the bottom of the dormitory window. She rolled onto her side and regarded the human with disinterest. "Ugh," she grunted. "S'too early. Lemme sleep." "Mel, they're saying something happened to the transport carriage last night," Laura said quietly. Melody quickly forgot about her sleepiness and sat up, getting her legs under her. She looked at her roommate clearly, and saw distress darkening her face. Her ears drooped. "Oh no. Please, Celestia, no," she whispered. Laura nodded sadly, tucking some hair behind an ear. "You were supposed to be on that carriage too, weren't you?" Melody shook that rather unpleasant fact from her head, trying to stay calm. "Who? Who's 'they'? Who told you this?" "C'mon, they're still here," she said. "That's why I woke you up: they were asking for you." The red and pink pegasus wriggled free of the sheets and rather clumsily hopped to the floor. The two of them left the room and headed through the Bureau to the lobby, where a few dozen newfoals and humans were already milling around, fretting and talking amongst themselves. Laura navigated the small throng, shouldering her way towards the exit, and Melody followed. "Everypony, please settle down!" called out Kite String from her position atop the receptionist's desk. The teal pegasus reared up and brought her hooves down as hard as she could on the black marble of the desk, and the resounding clop cut through the current of panic running through the crowd. Even Laura and Melody stopped to turn towards the Bureau director, her stern gaze a rather interesting contrast to the whimsical diamond-shaped kite on her flank. Kite String gathered up her composure once more, re-straightening the glasses on her nose with a hoof and a dignified flutter of eyelashes. "Now then," she said, clearing her throat, "there is no cause for alarm. The attack occurred out in Annapolis, so there is no immediate threat to us or anypony within the Beltway." "But that means they're watching the roads east!" came a male voice. "They're putting themselves between us and the Barrier!" added a female voice. "What about transportation?" asked a second man. Kite String held up a hoof. "That carriage was servicing the emigration efforts of the entire Mid-Atlantic, not just here in DC," she said, "so we're not the only ponies in this boat. The Royal Immigration Office back in Equestria had already commissioned the construction of extra carriages to answer for the increased logistical demand, and several are nearing completion. However, it's going to be another six to eight weeks before we—" The remainder of Kite String's sentence drowned in a sea of groans. "Why that long? It shouldn't take that long!" "The Barrier will probably be here in eight weeks! We may as well not even bother with carriages!" The pegasus director sighed. "Extra carriages have been needed for a long time now in Europe and West Africa," she explained. "Believe me, as thin as they're spread here, it's even worse over there. They'll be getting the first ones off the line. We're a bit further back in the queue, that's all." Melody was snapped out of the distracting clamor by a pat on her head from Laura's hand. She turned to look at the girl, who was starting to work through the crowd again. Melody followed her. Out in the young morning sun, there in the parking lot where she'd been standing not twelve hours ago, Melody saw three of the sacks issued to every newfoal leaving the Bureau, with Gavel and Sugar Spoon both standing by one. She guessed the third was hers. "W-wait, are we leaving now?" she asked, looking up to Laura. The human shrugged. "I dunno," she said. "Tidy Sum just asked me to go get you, so I did." The pair started to walk over to the other two ponies, but as Melody approached, a horrible coppery smell assaulted her nose. Reeling, she turned to look at a few sizable bloodstains on the ground, standing out stark and impossibly bright on the asphalt, as though someone had been fiddling with the color knob on a TV. "What—" "There was a Railroad team here just a couple minutes ago," explained Laura. "They were the ones who told us about the carriage. The back of their truck was full of badly-injured ponies. I helped them, Nurse Tincture, and Doctor Heartbeat get them to the infirmary inside. Word got to everypony while they were eating breakfast; that's what kicked off this whole panic." "The Railroad was here?" asked Melody, who immediately looked around the empty lot. "Where'd they go?" As if to answer her question, a pickup truck the color of champagne came barreling around the corner of the Bureau building, skidding to a stop directly in front of Gavel and Sugar Spoon, who had taken cover behind their respective newfoal sacks. It seemed configured for off-road use, with tall tires and square lights atop a tubular roll-bar behind the cab. A long CB antenna on the hood whipped back and forth for a few moments after the truck had come to a stop. On the whole, the pickup had seen better days, though; it was full of rusting dents and scrapes, but more alarming were the sparse bullet holes along the side and in the door. A huge dark-skinned man jumped down from the pickup bed, making the leaf springs creak as they were relieved of his weight. The doors of the cab opened, and out stepped two other humans: one was a lean fair-skinned man with a rather amused expression, the other was a pale young woman, shielding her eyes from the low sun. They were all dressed rather oddly: light, comfortable button-up short-sleeve shirts, sturdy khaki trousers, scuffed black kneepads, hiking shoes, and a pair of hearing-protective earmuffs around their necks. The white fellow had on a stained beige baseball cap, and the woman was wearing a watch cap made of gray fleece. Ever since becoming a pony, Melody had found that humans had seemed to take on a mildly menacing air, especially unfamiliar ones. She took a step backward, feeling her ears flat against the back of her head. Laura noticed. "H-hey, relax," she said, kneeling down by her friend. "It's the Railroad team I was telling you about. They're not going to hurt you!" "Just had to swing around to the side to make some deliveries and fuel up," said the large black man. "Hope you ponies like cauliflower and beets. Anyway, glad you're here; this means we can get going." "Wh... wha—" "Hold it right there!" cried Tidy Sum from behind Melody. Everyone turned to look at the blue unicorn, the pneumatic glass door still creeping closed behind her with a muted hiss. The black man grinned from one corner of his mouth and shook his head. "Aw, hell." Tidy Sum stalked past both Laura and Melody, making a beeline for him, her face a mask of anger. "You didn't think you could just leave my Bureau scot-free, did you?" The big man looked over to the other two, grinning. "Well, we tried, folks." They smiled and nodded silently, watching the unicorn approach. Tidy Sum stopped and planted her hooves, looking straight up into the huge human's eyes and scowling. He sighed and knelt down, and to everyone's surprise—except for the other two humans at the truck—the unicorn threw her hooves around his neck, pushing her cheek to his. "Thank you for bringing the injured to us," said Tidy Sum, her voice now quiet. "I know you had to leave behind a lot of supplies to make room for them." The man snorted, patting the unicorn's back, trying to play it off as though it were nothing. Tidy Sum seemed positively small in his arms. "It was just food. We left it with the survivors, figured it'd do some good there anyway. Besides, y'all ain't gonna starve in the next three days, are you?" Tidy Sum let go and backed away, brushing at her face with a hoof. Melody cocked her head; had she been crying? "Heh, no... I shouldn't think so," she said. "Well neither should I!" cackled the man, poking repeatedly at the side of her belly with a finger. "Look at how much you're growing outwards! You ponies are soft, and you're gettin' softer all the time, I tell you. Before long, I'm bettin' we can just roll all y'all down to the Barrier, huh?" Tidy Sum whooped and laughed, shrinking away, trying to dance out of range of the big man's tickling jabs. Everyone couldn't help but grin at the sight. After a few moments of clowning, they settled down, and Tidy Sum caught her breath. "But seriously, thank you, Gaspar." she said. She craned her neck over to make eye contact with the other two. "Melchior, Balthazar, you too... thank you. I just know Celestia is smiling over what you did for those ponies." The lean man by the cab rolled his eyes a little, and Melody caught a twinge of something negative there in his expression. "We talked to the guys at the cordon," said the woman. "They saw the wounded and detached a rescue team to start shuttling them back to the Bureau here. Hope you have enough beds." "It'll all work out, I'm sure," said Tidy Sum. "As long as we can get a roof over their heads, that'll be a good start. The important thing is that we make sure as many ponies as possible are safe and secure." The black man, Gaspar, nodded at that and stood back up, making a show of dusting his hands. "Well? We gonna get this show on the road, or what?" Melody looked to Gavel and Sugar Spoon, who shot back their own confused gazes. The other man—Melody wondered if he was Melchior or Balthazar—opened his arms and knocked once on the pickup's door. "We're the real deal," he said. "Ask your director if you don't believe us. Callsign 'Railroad,' designation seven-three, at your service. We're here to take you guys to the Barrier." "Er... us?" asked Sugar Spoon. "Well yeah, you!" said Tidy Sum. "You three were the next in line on the manifest, so that means you're first in line for a Railroad escort, whenever one is available." There was a lingering silence. The unicorn raised her eyebrows. "Unless... you'd like to... give up your spot to somepony else?" Gavel's ears perked up. "We can head for Equestria today? Right now?" "We're gonna be pretty busy with moving all these ponies," said the woman, "but yeah, we're gonna get as many of you to the Barrier as we can while they scramble to fill in the gaps left by the downed carriage." "It's right now or two months," said the thin man, "and I think Kite String will be needing all the extra space she can get." Sugar Spoon eyed the truck. "Looks dangerous..." she murmured. "Ah, relax!" said Gaspar. "The damage is all cosmetic. This baby runs like a top and stops on a dime, you have my w—" "No, I mean, like..." she sputtered out a single laugh. "Are... a-are humans gonna be shooting at us or something?" "S'why you'll have us along," said the woman. "If the Railroad was in the habit of getting ponies killed, the Bureaus wouldn't trust us with the responsibility. Out there, reputation is everything, and the Railroad has earned theirs. Nobody'll be shooting at you while we're around. Believe that." "I'm going," said Melody immediately. "I don't care if it's dangerous or not." Gavel nodded slowly, coming to his own decision. "I was never afraid of my home while I lived here, so I'm certainly not going to start now." The Equestrian-born Sugar Spoon blinked a couple of times, then looked down at her travel bag and sighed. "Oh, what the hay," she said. While the earth-pony and the unicorn walked to the pickup, Melody turned to Laura. The human girl knelt down and hugged the pegasus tight, eliciting a choked gurgle from the pony. She giggled and lightened her grip. "It-it's like hugging a marshmallow," she said, her voice cracking. Melody felt a hot teardrop on her neck. "G'bye, Laura," said Melody, putting her hooves around her. "Look me up once you get to Equestria, okay? We'll go paint the town red, whichever town that happens to be. They won't be ready for a couple of wild fillies like us!" Melody was starting to feel tears of her own welling up. "Try not to get into too much trouble 'till then," chuckled Laura. They held the hug for a few more moments, then separated. Laura went to stand by Tidy Sum, and the both of them waved as all three ponies—one returning home, two heading there for the first time—mounted up into the pickup's bed. Gaspar joined them in the back, and the other two got into the cab. Sugar Spoon settled in on the thin padded mat lining the truckbed as best she could, sending a suspicious look to a long crate next to her. It was made of rough wood, with even rougher rope for handles, and it was painted olive drab. Yellow lettering was stenciled along the sides and top, but its abbreviations and acronyms were completely arcane to a native-born Equestrian such as her. As the truck started up and left the parking lot, she asked "What's in there?" "Ammunition," said Gaspar. He reached behind the crate, pulling out a rather vicious-looking assault rifle with wood furniture that had been secured between the crate and the back of the cab. "For this." The unicorn groaned as the wind caught her gold mane. "Oh, Celestia watch over us." "And if she can't, well, that's why we're here," said Gaspar, his tone not quite humorous enough for Sugar Spoon's liking. Gavel just looked out the back of the truck, watching the road go by beneath the wheels. The pickup made a turn, and the Washington DC Conversion Bureau building, once upon a time known as the DC Armory, disappeared around the corner. * * * The DC Cordon was a rather grand name for what, in practice, was nothing more than a loose association of human fighters keeping watch at the major inroads to the capital city. It was far from a perfect operation, but more than a few HLF and PER probes had been chased away from and out of the city since the watches were established, so it remained in operation. Given their limited numbers, the Cordon had found it easier to secure and patrol the Capital Beltway itself rather than stand guard at every single exit along it. Even so, the symbolic presence of the Cordon was usually enough to discourage scavengers and disorganized extremists looking for easy prey. The ponies looked out along the overpass as they crossed over the Beltway. Traffic was no longer a concern, since there was no more government presence and therefore no more work to speak of in the city. Despite that, the split highway was still a tangle of abandoned cars on the shoulder, uncleared accidents, and mysterious pockets of congestion where everyone just seemed to give up on the same day, stop their cars, and walk home. It was eerie, this empty-world syndrome, and the Beltway was a sight that Gavel in particular had never gotten used to. The Railroad, with their four-legged cargo in tow, stopped after passing east over the Beltway out of DC, pulling off the road at the underpass for Whitfield Chapel. The underpass had been converted into a base-camp, a micro-town of shanties made out of corrugated metal and sheet-rock with ugly blue tarp for curtains and doors. A large plywood sign, painted white and with the black letters "CORDON 19" spray-painted on it, faced east out of town from the top of the underpass, warning unfriendly types that someone was watching. A cold fire pit formed the center of the micro-town, the metal rafters of the underpass above it stained black with soot. The group dismounted there, and while the ponies stretched their legs and wings, the Railroad team went to talk to the sentries. "So there are at least nineteen of these Cordon thingies?" Sugar Spoon asked Gavel. "I think it has more to do with the exit number," said Gavel. "Exit 19 is what you'd take to leave the Beltway and get on this road here." Sugar Spoon shook her head. "I'll never understand human urban planning." Melody laughed, and her voice echoed slightly in the relatively confined space of the underpass. She winced, hoping she hadn't disturbed anyone, and then smiled at the unicorn. "At least you'll never have to, from here on out." "Small favors, right?" chuckled Sugar Spoon, and the two newfoals chuckled their agreement. The Railroad team came jogging back to the truck, their contacts having already resumed watching the roads. "Mount up," said Gaspar, "we're moving on." "Is anything wrong?" asked Gavel as everyone piled back into the truck. "Maybe, maybe not," replied the big man. "The team that they sent out to recover your pony friends hasn't radioed in yet." "That doesn't sound like it could be good," said Melody. The thought of humans getting hurt while trying to help ponies made her feel incredibly guilty, and she had been a human herself not a week ago! "Like I said, maybe, maybe not. It could be they're busy kicking ass, or they could be dead in a ditch three miles down the road. Either way, we're now the ones in the best position to find out, so we're gonna move with a quickness." Railroad Seven-Three sped off eastward on Route 50, leaving Washington DC behind.