Initially, Braeburn decided to decline Dr. Caballeron’s offer. There was something about the way the stallion carried himself that to Braeburn he appeared two-faced. Initially he had agreed with Braeburn’s thoughts about Dodge Junction being a troublesome place, yet he seemed more than acquainted with the place than most and he seemed to be interested in the idea of taking Braeburn on the town, which depending on where he went was a questionable prospect in itself. And then there was the fact that he kept his business quite secretive and had traveled out to Appleoosa instead of staying around in Dodge Junction.
But the more Braeburn thought about it, the more he became enticed by the lure that Dr. Caballeron had given him. Firstly, there was the issue of finding out what business the archaeologist had that he wanted Braeburn. Then there was the fact that he was traveling in search of something that either was going to be archaeological history or was going to be at least something that might bring more ponies to the area. And of course there was the fact that Dr. Caballeron had offered him a fair sum, which Braeburn decided he would need to discuss. He decided, with that in mind, to sleep on it.
Early the next morning Braeburn awoke eagerly though he knew not why. It was still early, so Braeburn had himself some breakfast as he looked out over his orchard and thought. Dr. Caballeron would wait until quarter to ten for him to arrive, and currently he was very much inclined to go. He’d seen this orchard for years and it was his pride and joy, but he soon realized his pride came from his success with the orchard and his joy came from working on it. Two months of staring at it with nothing to do would drive him crazy.
“It wouldn’t hurt to at least see what’s goin’ on,” Braeburn said to himself.
And so, at nine thirty, Braeburn set off for the Appleoosa train station. When he got there, he was greeted by a rather large, black steam engine loudly hissing steam and clanking as it trundled into the station, pulling four coaches that looked like they’d seen better days, the green and beige paint scheme fading in places and chipping off in others. A few other ponies were there on the station platform, some of them Braeburn recognized as Appleoosa residents that had likely saved enough money for a temporary escaped
The clanking stopped and the hissing settled down as the train came to a stop in front of Braeburn, who was by the door of the nearest coach. The door opened and a medium grey pony came out and started walking along the platform to the ticket booth. A few ponies stepped out of the train and most of the ponies on the station started filing into the back cars.
A few minutes after the train had stopped at the station, Dr. Caballeron arrived, stepping onto the platform from Appleoosa’s main street. He sauntered over to Braeburn with a smile on his face and a half-finished cigarette in his mouth. “Braeburn! I see you’ve decided to take up the offer.”
“You told me I could come on down and see what the deal was before decidin’,” Braeburn said. “And that’s what I aim to do.”
Dr. Caballeron nodded. “Fair enough. We spend a little time in Dodge Junction and tomorrow my group should be ready to go. I happen to be waiting on another response from someone back there who shall function as our driver, shall we say. He knows the area but confesses beyond Dodge Junction is a mystery to him. How much do you know about the area within, oh, say fifty miles of Dodge Junction?”
“Fifty miles?” Braeburn said. “Well, there’s the Joshua tree forest that goes into a large rocky area then descends into an area called Red River Canyon. I’ll need to look at a map for more to refresh my memory, though.”
Dr. Caballeron nodded and motioned Braeburn into the first coach. Braeburn boarded and found himself in a rather neat-looking compartment with wide seating and small tables, in addition to a small bar in the center. No other pony was in there and Braeburn went to a recently re-upholstered leather seat in front of a white table that contained an ash tray. Dr. Caballeron sat down in front of him and Braeburn noticed a small hatch at the front of the car towards the engine behind Dr. Caballeron’s seat, currently closed.
“It shall be a few hours before we reach Dodge Junction,” Dr. Caballeron noted, “so I’ve ordered some lunch for us. It will be here within an hour or so. Once the train starts moving, I shall give you some information as to our little venture.”
Braeburn nodded. A sharply-dressed unicorn came over to Braeburn and set down a small salt-block, while in front of Dr. Caballeron he placed a small glass with a dark brown liquid and two ice cubes, along with a clean cigarette, though Dr. Caballeron waved a hoof at him and he took back the cigarette.
“I know it’s early, but would you be opposed?” Dr. Caballeron said, taking the one in his mouth and extinguishing it in the ash tray.
“I could indulge myself for one day,” Braeburn said. He motioned to the amber liquid. “And that is…?”
“Cheap rum mixed with tonic water,” Dr. Caballeron responded. He took a small sip of it and set it back down. “Bit of a long day today, so I like the perk. I’ll have some business when I return to Dodge Junction, but I’ll make sure you get settled in at the hotel and perhaps take you out to dinner before attending to those matters.”
Braeburn took a few licks of the salt block before the train unleashed a loud whistle and jerked forward. The engine clanged loudly and Braeburn could see the engine hissing violently until the last coach pulled out of the station and the cavalcade was finally moving at speed. The racket of deafening noise finally settled itself down and the car quieted until all that could be heard was the pounding of the wheels along the rails and the tinkling of ice cubes on the edges of Dr. Caballeron’s glass of rum and tonic.
“So, we’ve started movin’,” Braeburn said when he was sure the train had quieted down. “Now, would you mind tellin’ me what exactly you have planned?”
“Well, as I told you before, I’m an archaeologist with a doctorate’s from Canterlot University,” Dr. Caballeron said. “What I didn’t tell you is that I currently work in the archaeological department as a specialist in their museum. What this museum does is find relics from the old world, back from thousands of years ago, and brings them back to the museum to preserve them and educate the ponies about the past.”
“It’s a noble cause,” Braeburn said, taking a lick of his salt block. “So, I’m guessin’ you are currently on a mission to find somethin’ in Red River Canyon to take back to the museum?”
“You’re right on the money.” Dr. Caballeron took another drink of his rum and tonic. “There used to be an old civilization in the canyons. They created steppes to bring water to their crops and built massive dwellings within the canyon walls. Among one of these is a temple that they worshipped the sun and moon.”
“I’m guessin’ this would be a magical artifact, often used by the elders or whoever was in charge as a symbol of power or to perform feats of magic.”
“You’re right on most of that. It was a symbol of power, but it was not magical. There was simply a lot of trickery involved.”
“But what would require gathering a large amount of ponies for only one symbolic artifact?”
“First of all, I need the driver to help in bringing back other things, as well. The rod is simply the most important artifact, but anything that might help increase our knowledge of Equestrian history could be labeled as of importance. There is a botanist who would help give us knowledge of the plants in the area, what they might have used for medicine, poisons, and food. There are stallions with us who are strong enough to help lift and defend. There is a medic we’d have to help us in case of damage. And there would be you, our guide. I hear you have good relations with the buffalo of the area, and in case we should come across them our group might seem a little threatening and I would need someone to help reason.”
“It is highly unlikely we will encounter buffalo at this time. They’ll be stayin’ in the lower deserts, beyond the Red River Canyon.”
“Yes, but they are known to sometimes be temperamental, and sometimes we are never able to fully understand their movements. I had encountered them once in a previous trip and we had to wait a full month for them to pass by before continuing travel. By the time we got to the place where the item was, it was gone, presumably from robbers of the site.”
“’Tis a terrible fate for a piece of Equestrian history,” Braeburn said. “Might have been sold on the black market I hear exists in some of the larger cities.”
“Yes,” Dr. Caballeron agreed. “We were never able to track it down. But it is merely a small loss. We have more victories than we do losses, and the discovery of this rod and a survey of the local environment shall provide more information than what we lost.”
Braeburn took another lick of his salt block. Dr. Caballeron remained silent and took a few sips of his rum and tonic. The train sped on past seemingly endless fields of sand and towering sculptures of precariously-balanced rocks. A small coyote trotted near the tracks only to bolt off and into the nearby scrub brush when the engine roared past it. A red-tailed hawk circled overhead, only to suddenly dive down into the brush but come back up with nothing.
“I’ve always been drawn to Equestria’s wilderness,” Dr. Caballeron said. “I never much fit in with high society. I’ve always preferred the life of an explorer and archaeologist in the field. No one can understand why I like to be covered in dust or smell like fire and smoke.”
“I’ve always heard ponies dream of the sort of life you lead,” Braeburn replied. “Any pony you speak to will wish somewhere along the line that they had enough to fit in with the high society of Canterlot. I’ve seen families save for years just to have a week of being pampered and eatin’ high cuisine.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“They believe money brings with it freedom. They are fine with workin’ their farms so long as they’d have the money to spend for themselves when they’re not workin’.”
“Does farming not yield a decent profit?”
“I usually end up with around five hundred bits of profit after a farmin’ season, which some of that goes into expandin’ and fixin’ the farm dependin’ on what mood strikes me. By the time all is said and done, I’m down to a hundred bits more in the bank than I had before the season.” Braeburn took a lick of his salt block. “I’m guessin’ you earn more than that a year. What would draw you to the wilderness?”
Braeburn suddenly saw a manic glint in Dr. Caballeron’s eye that he didn’t like. “Freedom,” the stallion said, calm and measured. “No one telling you what to do. No one telling you to stick to certain schedules. One needs money to survive, but being in the wilderness, one can earn his wage in a way he deems fit for himself.”
“And you don’t deem your job fit enough?”
“Nearly. There is the thrill of finding something, the excitement of coming across a new discovery, but it is still all controlled and every movement is dictated by the ones at the top with an iron hoof. I can’t go somewhere in my spare time and find something and get paid for it. There are so many processes that must be gone through.”
Dr. Caballeron took a sip of his rum and tonic, then slammed the glass so hard on the table some of it spilled out. “I hate it! I hate the slow amount of time between these excursions! It’s been two years since I last went out on something because of processes that have been in the works for even longer than that! Why can’t I just go out and find the items myself, come back with it, have it be declared culturally significant and be paid for it!? They would get their damn artifact, I would get paid and have a job that isn’t so restricted, and everypony would be happy!”
Braeburn slightly leaned back in his chair.
Dr. Caballeron closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, the manic glint was gone and he seemed a fair amount calmer. “Forgive me,” he said. “There is a similar element to my job to that of your two months between harvest and planting.”
“Did it warrant such a rant that I just heard?”
“Probably not. I just have so much pent-up energy. I’ve been waiting for this for a while and, to be frank, I am impatient when assigned to something.”
“I understand your impatience, Doctor,” Braeburn said, “but I don’t believe that it was quite necessary. There are better ways to release one’s impatience or pent-up energy.”
“Mister Braeburn,” Dr. Caballeron replied, “there was either the rant or I would have punched you, and I don’t think you would have taken the latter as genially as you have.”
Braeburn said nothing.
Lunch arrived soon after from a door leading into the second car. A few plates came out with triple-decker sandwiches cut in fourths, smaller salad plates garnished with a sweet yellow dressing, and bowls of steaming vegetable soups.
“I do apologize for the rant,” Dr. Caballeron said. “I promise I shall try and contain myself the rest of the trip.”
Braeburn took a bite of the vegetable soup. “Have you ever tried boxing or something similar, Doctor?” he asked. “I’d wager the gyms in the larger cities often allow for that sort of thing to take place.”
“Why? Were you interested in boxing?”
“I buck trees around six months of the year. It does wonders for calmin’ me. It takes out the energy and puts it towards somethin’ productive. Perhaps a punchin’ bag or controlled fightin’ would work for you a bit.” Braeburn waited for a response, but Dr. Caballeron said nothing. “Wouldn’t keep you so aggressive.”
“Actually, a bit of aggressiveness is good in this profession.” Dr. Caballeron said. “I need to keep the others with me in line so nothing gets destroyed or lost. Or there’s also the possibi—”
“Hold that thought, would you?” Braeburn cut the stallion off. “We have company.”
The farmer was right; at that moment, the hatch at the end of the car had opened up and two darker stallions with rugged faces and disheveled clothes dropped inside the train car. One, a sandy-colored earth pony stallion with a shovel cutie mark, was already standing upright and surveying the two stallions. The other, a light blue unicorn stallion with an ornate vase as a cutie mark, had just dropped in and was trying to get himself upright.
Dr. Caballeron turned around, took up his empty rum glass and threw it at the one that just dropped in the car and managed to hit him squarely on the head.
“You’re the one, all right,” the sandy stallion said in a clear voice as his companion rubbed his head and stood upright. “Been looking for you, Doctor. It’s about time the score was settled from back near Vanhoover.”
“Look sharp, Mister Braeburn,” Dr. Caballeron said as the other pony snorted. “They won’t care if you’re not officially with me.”
“Who are they?” Braeburn asked.
“I’ll explain later. Just be on your guard.”
Dr. Caballeron charged at the sandy stallion, but he dodged out of the way. Dr. Caballeron was ready for the counter and quickly kicked him in Braeburn’s direction with a solid kick to his side. The stallion nearly flew into Braeburn, who only avoided getting hit himself by quickly stepping back. Dr. Caballeron started picking a fight with the other stallion as Braeburn readied himself with the blue unicorn closer to him.
The stallion swung out twice, but Braeburn saw his motions and dodged, first avoiding a left hook than a right. The stallion reared, but Braeburn leapt under him and scooped him up, throwing him into the bar in the center of the train car. Braeburn stood his ground as the stallion got up shakily to his feet though still focused on Braeburn; he wasn’t going down without a fight.
The stallion was clearly affected by getting knocked into the bar. He swerved and leaned as he moved, but nonetheless attempted to charge at Braeburn again. This time he was far enough off that Braeburn was able to spin around and bucked him hard in the face. The attack connected and soon the stallion was thrown head first across the car, slamming into his partner trying to avoid an attack from Dr. Caballeron.
“Good show!” Dr. Caballeron called. “That was a fine buck if I’ve ever seen one!”
Both stallions were now dazed and confused. Even though they tried getting up, they were so filled with cuts and bruises and had likely both hit their heads in the impact that they couldn’t stay upright. Braeburn walked over to where Dr. Caballeron was standing.
“What do we do with them?” Braeburn asked.
“Well, we got two options,” Dr. Caballeron said. “We could take them, find someone who has a rope, and tie them up until we hit Dodge Junction, but they’ll have recovered by then and won’t go quietly. Personally, I say we throw them off the train.”
“And leave them to die in the desert?”
“We’re not far away from a spring; the train passes it on the way to Dodge Junction. From there it’s an hour to the city proper. We drop them off and they’ll be close enough to the spring and water. After that, it’s not much longer to Dodge if they follow the railroad tracks.”
“But they’ll obviously require medical attention,” Braeburn said. “An hour to Dodge Junction by railroad might mean three hours away or more walkin’ from the spring. They might not die from water loss or exhaustion but from bein’ unable to get themselves to the city.”
Dr. Caballeron raised an eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll go with your idea. As soon as we get to the station, I’ll notify the authorities. Keep an eye on them while I go see if the conductor knows where to find some rope.” He kept an eye on the two crumpled stallions as he left via the back coach door.
The two stallions were so dazed they couldn’t move, so Braeburn went and shut the hatch to prevent the traces of smoke and heat from coming in the car. The two stallions moaned and groaned for a while, trying to reorient themselves, while Braeburn took a seat nearby and watched them.
Eventually, the light blue unicorn with the ornate vase cutie mark seemed to have regained himself enough to look over at Braeburn. His purple eyes looked around the car and eventually turned back to the farmer. “What happened to the Doctor?” he asked weakly.
“Lookin’ for some rope to tie you up with,” Braeburn said.
The unicorn looked confused. “You’re not going to throw us off the train?”
“Would you prefer that? ‘Cause I could change my mind.”
“No,” the stallion said. “I prefer you keep us onboard.” He laughed. “You’re not with him, are you?”
“In a matter of speakin’,” Braeburn said. “I am considerin’ an offer he gave me about goin’ with him on a little jaunt. I was promised money and he needed a guide. It was a fair trade.”
The unicorn nodded. “Listen and listen well. If you were to stay with him, nothing but trouble will come to you. Don’t ask me how I know.”
“How can I trust you?” Braeburn asked. “You attacked me without findin’ out if I was with him or not. If I didn’t react how I did, I would have been where you are right now.”
“Couldn’t take any chances,” the sandy earth pony with the shovel cutie mark replied, only opening a single deep red eye. “You don’t look like the normal sort he hangs out with, but we couldn’t risk you not being with him. Looks like we got our flanks handed to us all the same.”
“Don’t question us any further for now,” the light blue unicorn replied. “If you’re going to be in Dodge Junction for a bit, we’ll find you later and fill you in on the details. For now, I don’t want to get thrown off the train.”
Braeburn looked at them curiously, but true to the unicorn’s word, neither of them spoke again. They sat up and against the wall when Braeburn ordered them to, but they didn’t respond to any more of Braeburn’s questions. Braeburn took a seat across from them and waited.
Dr. Caballeron came back with two long lengths of rope. “Well, I managed to find two decent lengths to tie them up with. I see you got them standing up. Manage to get any information out of them?”
Braeburn shook his head. “I simply put them against the wall so as not to make any more trouble.”
Dr. Caballeron nodded. “Help me put the rope around them. Start with the unicorn; he’s a fighter.”
The light blue unicorn came quietly from the wall and let Braeburn and Dr. Caballeron tie him up tight with his hooves against his sides before being placed against the wall where he had been. The sandy unicorn started to complain, but Dr. Caballeron lashed out with a hoof against his cheek and he quieted immediately. It wasn’t long before he was also tied up and placed against the wall.
Braeburn and Dr. Caballeron returned to their table where the remainder of their food was, surprisingly, undisturbed. Braeburn sat himself down and had a long drink of water and finished his sandwich in silence. Dr. Caballeron did the same thing and eventually called for assistance; a stallion from the dining car obliged him and gave him a cigarette. Dr. Caballeron put the cigarette in his mouth; the stallion from the dining car lit it for him before leaving their car. The Doctor gave a long puff from the cigarette before opening a window momentarily to let the smoke out. Once the car was clear, he closed the window again and tapped the cigarette over the ash tray a few times before putting it back in his mouth.
“You were saying something about needing aggressiveness?” Braeburn said.
Dr. Caballeron looked at him, seemingly tired, but he soon perked back up. “Oh, yes. Aggressiveness is good for keeping the ponies in my group in line, but there is always the possibility of… delinquents.”
Dr. Caballeron pointed a hoof to where the two stallions were tied up behind him. “They are from a frequent raiding party I’ve encountered on my travels. I damaged their leader badly last time after a stint where she almost stole something from me in Vanhoover, but I recovered it in time. Strength is necessary to keep the likes of them from stealing potentially important pieces of Equestrian history.”
The sandy stallion growled, but the light blue unicorn kicked him and he shut up. The unicorn didn’t say anything himself, but did glare at Dr. Caballeron.
“Are there others where they came from?” Braeburn asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Caballeron said. “I didn’t expect them to be so bold as to attack me on the train. Despite this, we’ll lose them in Dodge Juncton. It’s big enough that it will be harder to find us there, so we shouldn’t have any more trouble.”
Dr. Caballeron opened the window and released a bit more smoke from his cigarette. Braeburn noticed they were passing a small pond surrounded by greenery no more than a few meters away from the train tracks.
“There’s the spring,” Braeburn said. “We’re only an hour away now.”
Dr. Caballeron nodded. “Probably would have been a lot longer for me if you hadn’t been here.” He looked over to Braeburn and, for the first time the former could remember, his look softened as he smiled. “Thank you, Braeburn. Even if you don’t tag along.”
Braeburn said nothing. He merely stared out the window and watched as the sun started to set and the lights started to turn on in Dodge Junction.