//------------------------------// // Dodge // Story: The Lunatics // by SpaceCommie //------------------------------// “Her?” Luna asked. The end of days, brought about by an enigmatic ‘her’... Luna wrenched herself away from her thoughts. Caballeron was answering. “Her or she,” Caballeron said. “In that particular changeling dialect, there isn't a distinction between the subject and object form of the feminine third-person pronoun...” The others stared. “But of course that is not what you were talking about.” Luna shook her head. “To respond...” Caballeron hesitated. “To respond to the other part of your question, the identity of the person referred to in those texts has not been clearly established. It’s not as if that is surprising, however. You can rarely expect specificity from things like this.” “Things like this?” Colgate asked, then shook her head. “Never mind. We’re wasting our time on this. Princess?” “I tend to agree,” Luna said. “Doctor, can you tell us anything about engaging in combat with the changelings, should that eventuality arise?” Caballeron frowned. “Hope that it does not. The hive will act with utter ruthlessness if it perceives a significant threat. The vast majority of drones will not use any particularly sophisticated tactics, but numbers alone make any coherent response... intimidating.” Luna nodded. “In the eventuality, however...” “I would very thoroughly recommend against it.” Colgate groaned. “Cut the crap, Caballeron. How the hell did you get out of there the first time around?” Caballeron rubbed his face. “We had been in the hive for about a week at that point, preoccupied with our work. I had grown frustrated digging on the outskirts of the hive for shards of pottery. I tried to reason with them. ‘Archeology is not an exact science! We do not have to catalogue every last inch of detritus!’ Of course, they did not see it my way.” He shrugged, but resentment still glowed in his eyes. “They might have made it out alive if they had followed me. Perhaps.” Colgate rolled her eyes. “Get to the point. Where’d everything go pear-shaped?” “I had suspected the existence of changelings for some time. It was dismissed as cryptobiology, 'pseudoscientific nonsense'." "There were stories about them back in Dodge..." Moonshine said. "I never really took them seriously." "Stories, yes," Caballeron said. "And they were were suspiciously close to what we knew about changelings from previous evidence. But of course, without hard proof..." Caballeron sighed. "In any case, I was uninterested in wasting time in the outer tunnels. I went in, deeper and deeper into the mountain. As you can imagine, the humidity is stultifying that deep—the breath of a hundred thousand changelings packed into a space half the size of Canterlot." Caballeron adjusted the bandanna around his neck and continued. "I had to ration the kerosene... they wouldn't give me any extra for what they said was 'utter lunacy'. So I had the flame burning low, hardly illuminating anything past my own face. “You can hear them before you see them, the changelings. The rustle of wings against carapace, the clatter of chitin on the stone.” Caballeron glared around the room. “But as I have already said, the hive will not act until it perceives you as a threat. I presume they watched me all the way in, but nothing happened until I had reached the center of the hive. “I am not often surprised, but that...” Caballeron hesitated for a second. “I do not use the term ‘hive’ lightly, you should know. What I stumbled upon could be called the nursery.” He swept his hoof deliberately in front of him. “Imagine, if you will, a massive pit, some hundreds of yards across, and full of changeling larvae, crying in their raspy voices, an acrid scent wafting up. I half expected them all to look up at me in unison, but... “I thought I heard a shriek, and it seemed as if it were coming from inside my own head. Maybe. In any case, at that point I noticed, on the far end of the nursery, my colleagues..." Caballeron grimaced at the word. "They were dropped into the pit. There was motion all around them, the changelings swarming. I could hardly make out Maps and Artificer, but it was obvious that they would not survive. “My theories about the nature of the changelings were still, at that point, in their infancy. But I was sure of one thing: the hive would not act irrationally against a threat—or, at least, not if I played my cards correctly. I slid into the pit and carefully picked up one of the smaller larvae and put it in my pack.” Luna raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt. “A hostage was... important, of course, but I knew that would not be sufficient to stave off an attack by the hive. I had to demonstrate that I was not worth the effort to take. So naturally, I retreated to a corner and scrounged around in my pack for the dynamite we had brought with us for clearing tunnels. But at that point, I...” Caballeron froze, staring at the other ponies around the table as if he had never seen them before in his life. That lasted for a few seconds before he relaxed—barely. “I knew speaking of this would prove to be a mistake,” he snapped, glaring at the others, daring them to object. Luna blinked. “I do not—Doctor Caballeron, how did you escape?” “I don’t re—” Caballeron started. “I do not wish to discuss this further. I am a scholar, not a hack novelist. If you have questions about the changelings, I will take them.” For a few seconds, nopony said a thing. “What is that?” Soarin cried. “You can’t get that far into the story and just stop!” Caballeron sneered. “My apologies for ruining storytime for you, Mr Soarin.” “You know what I meant,” Soarin said, teeth gritted. “Tell us what happened.” Caballeron leaned in towards him. “No.” Luna rose to her full height, head nearly hitting the ceiling of the car. “Caballeron.” “Am I supposed to be impressed? Intimidated?” Caballeron demanded. “If you want me on this expedition—and you will need me—I suggest that you resign yourself to not prying into my past, no matter how tall you are.” Luna stared at him. He met her gaze, albeit reluctantly. “The moment this becomes relevant to us, Doctor, is the moment when your privacy becomes utterly irrelevant to me, and I suggest that you resign yourself to the knowledge that moment will come.” “Very well,” Caballeron spat out. “Now, if anyone would care to ask me any appropriate questions regarding the changelings?” Colgate rolled her eyes. “I think the doctor here needs a break.” Nopony disagreed. The train rolled into Dodge Junction. The streets were empty, the setting sun casting long shadows across the dusty ground. Luna glanced at Moonshine. “Is this town usually so void of life?” Moonshine didn’t look away from the window. “No. It’s not.” Luna turned away and walked into the hallway of the railcar. Colgate was standing by the door, looking bored. Inevitably, Caballeron smirked. “Where’s Soarin?” Moonshine asked. “Mr Soarin was kind enough to venture out into the town while the rest of us waited for you two,” Caballeron said. “Why?” Moonshine asked. Colgate groaned. “Something about ‘preliminary recon’. He sounded really excited about it, too.” She rolled her eyes. “He may have the proper idea,” Luna said. “In any eventuality, we had best find him.” There was no disagreement on that point, although Colgate and Caballeron seemed less than thrilled by the prospect. Luna nodded at the assent, and stepped out of the train, doors flying open with a theatrical flourish. She regretted it almost immediately. The heat was stultifying, like an oven, and even the setting sun seemed to glare balefully down on Luna. Colgate’s eyes widened. “Ponies live here?” she asked. Moonshine smiled. “Yep. It’s pretty nice in the winter, actually.” “I refuse to believe that winter exists in this place,” Colgate said. Moonshine shrugged. “I didn’t exactly make many snowponies as a kid.”         Colgate nodded. Dodge was built around the railroad, unvarnished wooden buildings pressing around it as if they wanted to leave. Even though it was dusk, few lights were on—not even, Luna noted, in the sheriff's office. She walked towards it, followed by the others. The door had been left ajar, and the wind had blown it against the outside of the building. It slapped against the rough wooden wall every so often as the wind picked up, sending swirls of dust through the empty streets. Luna stepped in, eyes adjusting to the dark in an instant. There was a file cabinet left open, and papers were strewn across the floor. “What could have happened here?” Luna said to nopony in particular. “Sheriff left,” came a voice from outside. The accent reminded Luna of Honesty, but there was a lilting cadence to it that didn’t quite fit. Luna turned around to see Soarin and an unfamiliar mare standing at the door of the office. The cream-colored mare sported an elaborate crimson mane that might have at one point given Generosity a run for her money, but it clearly hadn’t been maintained for some time. She smiled warily at Luna and the others. “Why, hello there. This charming young colt—” Here she nodded towards Soarin. “Told me y’all might be here. It’s good to know somepony from Canterlot’s taken an interest in what’s been goin’ on here.” “Your gratitude is noted,” Luna said. “Who are you?” “She’s—” Soarin started. “I can introduce myself, darlin’,” she said. “I’m Cherry Jubilee, boss of Cherry Hill Ranch. We make cherry... well, I can imagine that’s not important for the time being. Y’all want to come out where I can see you? Seems like I can’t be too careful these days.” Luna nodded, and walked out onto the street, where she exchanged a business-like hoofshake with Cherry, who bowed slightly. “I expect you’re gonna want to hear about what’s been goin’ on here,” she said. “Very much so, Ms Jubilee,” Luna said. “So you saw the train, I hope?” Cherry asked. “We did.” Cherry exhaled. “That’s a relief.” “What would have been the problem?” Luna asked. Cherry stared at her for a moment, then looked down and chuckled softly. “You don’t have any clue what happened here, do ya?” “What happened?” Moonshine asked, the words coming fast and high. “Well, as it happens—” Cherry paused. “Moonshine, darlin’, is that you?” “It’s me, Ms Jubilee,” Moonshine said. “Now, what happened?” “Your folks are just fine, if that’s what you’re askin’. They left on the train yesterday.” “And what prompted their departure?” Luna asked. Cherry’s mouth opened in a small ‘oh’, and she blinked. “Y’all really don’t know what’s been happenin’, do ya?” “I am afraid not,” Luna said. “Well... I think you’re gonna have to see this for yourselves,” Cherry said. “Come on.” They walked east along the railroad, in silence. Every few yards, Luna noticed a suitcase or trunk tossed onto the ground, more often than not split open, clothing and jewelry and bits spilling out onto the dusty ground. Before long they came to the bank—a marginally sturdier-looking building than the rest. “You still in there, Deposit?” Cherry called out into the darkened lobby. “I’ll be damned if I leave,” came a voice—presumably Deposit’s—from inside. “Who is it?” “It’s Cherry, ya galoot.” “Prove it,” Deposit said flatly. “Alright. I have had the exquisite misfortune of havin’ every single hoof stepped on while dancin’ with a certain ornery teller.” Deposit groaned from somewhere inside the bank. “Okay, okay. Come on in.” “One second. And would you turn the darn lights on?” “If you insist,” Deposit grumbled. There was a brief clattering noise as, Luna assumed, he got up to hit the switch. The lights flickered on, and Deposit walked to meet the newcomers. He eyed them for a moment. “They’re all good?” he asked Cherry. He was a slight stallion, with spectacles perched on his muzzle. “Just off the train from Canterlot,” she answered. “They should be fine.” He didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Alright.” He extended a hoof to Luna. “Very pleased to meet you, your majesty. I’m Safe Deposit, interim manager of the First Bank of Dodge Junction. And...” He chuckled ruefully. “At this rate, probably the last bank of Dodge Junction.” “Well met, Manager Deposit,” Luna said. “Now, Ms Jubilee, if you would be so kind as to elucidate our purpose for visiting this fine establishment?” “Oh, of course,” Cherry said. “Dep, is he still here?” “Hasn’t budged. I’ve been leaving food and water, but...” He shook his head. “He should be safe in there though.” Deposit walked up to the vault and smacked it affectionately. “Half a foot of steel and concrete. I’d like to see anything get through that.” “What the hell has been going on here?” Colgate asked. “One second, darlin’,” Cherry said. “You’re gonna want to see this. A lotta things will start to make some sense.” Deposit spun the lock with a practiced motion, and the vault opened. “I’d appreciate it mightily if any of you cared to make a deposit,” he said. “There was a bit of a run. Cherry, would you mind getting the lights?” A single incandescent flickered into life. Colgate wrinkled her nose. “How does it smell like this in a bank vault...” There was a pony huddled in the back corner, eyes fixed, unblinking, onto the floor. “That explains the smell,” Caballeron noted. Colgate shook her head, but didn’t disagree. “Can we take a look at him in the lobby?” she asked. Deposit shrugged. “I don’t think he minds, and I certainly don’t.” Colgate walked to the stallion and offered a hoof. He didn’t respond, not even to look up. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “We’re here to help.” There was no response. The stallion barely breathed. Colgate blinked. “Could you help me with this, Princess?”  Luna nodded, and her horn glowed. The stallion levitated into the air, limbs dragging limply behind him. Luna backed, carefully, into the bank’s lobby and put him back down. Colgate retrieved a lighter from her pack and crouched down in front of the stallion. The flame flared. His pupils shrunk, but his eyes didn’t focus. She moved it in front of his face. No reaction. The lighter’s cap snapped shut, and she put it into her pack. “Catatonic,” Colgate said, standing up. “At least if I remember this right.” Luna didn’t say anything, but just watched. Caballeron smiled faintly and nodded. “Is there something you want to tell me, Doctor?” Colgate asked. “I expected something like this,” Caballeron said, looking pleased with himself, a thin smile spreading across his face. “Like what?” The doctor gestured at the stallion. “No reaction to anything, correct?” Colgate nodded. “We might as well leave him outside. There’s nothing left,” Caballeron said, nudging the stallion. Colgate rubbed her head. “Caballeron, are you saying—” “This is what the changelings do,” he said. “Under less expedient circumstances, they’ll try to absorb love passively, but this...” “He was fed on by changelings?” Colgate asked. “Sucked dry,” Caballeron said. “Do whatever you want with him, but for all intents and purposes he is a corpse that happens to be breathing.” Colgate took a deep breath. “I am familiar with how changelings... feed. But they were able to do that?” Caballeron sighed theatrically. "What did you expect being drained of all your love would do?" Moonshine spoke up, “Turn somepony into you.” Caballeron chuckled, but his eyes were deadly serious. "As unpleasantly saccharine as it sounds, there's more than one kind of love, and this poor bastard has had every last drop sucked out." Colgate frowned. "That doesn't explain the stupor." "Doesn't it?" Caballeron asked. "What do you suppose drives your own desire for self-preservation, Agent Colgate?" The catatonic stallion fell over with a fleshy thump. There was no cry of pain. His breathing accelerated almost imperceptibly. Caballeron looked at him distastefully and without much emotion, as if he were a fly stuck in a spider's web. "Call it self-love if you wish, Ms Colgate, or ego, but whatever it is, he doesn't have it any more. Why would he do anything? He doesn't care. And neither should you." Colgate looked at the stallion. "Is he still in there?" Caballeron shrugged. "What do you mean by that? For my money, the answer is no. There's nothing for a self to attach to." “We seem to have strayed from the practical impetus of this discussion,” Luna said. Colgate and the archeologist blinked in unison. “That we have,” Caballeron said. “Mr Deposit—Ms Jubilee—what has been going on here?” “It's complicated...” Cherry hesitated. “He’s the only one so far, if that’s what you’re askin’.” “Well,” Deposit clarified, “the only one they’ve left here.”