//------------------------------//
// What is it after? 
// Story: Guessing Games, or, How Many Changelings Fit In A Breadbox? 
// by ErraticOverlord 
//------------------------------//

	Edward sits in a chair, eyeing the two ponies who just entered. One of the ponies looks at him with contained warmth. The other looks at him with unbridled disgust.

"What do you know about fencing, Edward?" The interrogator begins.

Edward raises and eyebrow at the question, then smiles. "I'm pretty sure you stab them with the pointy bit."

The interrogator smiles. "Moves you can do in fencing are split into offensive and defensive and one of the offensive moves is called a feint." The interrogator stands up and the mare beside him tries to keep her false calm firmly glued to her face. "In a feint you move to perform an action but cancel it to draw your opponent's concentration to the area you pretend to strike instead of the one you mean to."

Edward beams. "I suppose you're an enthusiast of this game."

The interrogator frowns. "Not really. I tried of course but in the end I find I much prefer logic puzzles." The interrogator's grin returns with redoubled strength and he looks straight at Edward. "Logic puzzles like you."

The mare sitting across from Edward shifts in her chair.

"I like to think of myself as a difficult Sudoku." Edward states.

The interrogator laughs. "I'm sure you would. In case you might find it interesting, I have deduced the reason of your collapse to be a shortage of love energy to sustain yourself."

Edward leans back in his chair. "Whose fault would that be?"

The interrogator moves to stand beside the sitting mare. "The hospital you were sent to could do little to nothing to help a problem of that nature... or could it?" The interrogator moves away from the mare to stand behind Edward. "Why don't we take a look at the series of events? You do not receive love energy and as such you begin to break apart and die. You are sent to a pony hospital which wrap bandages around your dissolving exoskeleton and hope for the best. After a few days you recover enough to be sent back here for interrogation. Do you take me for a fool, changeling? Do you think I'm too stupid to notice your cheap tricks?"

Edward hears a sound coming from behind the glass. He looks up to see the interrogator with his ears cocked towards the door. The interrogator speaks again in a low tone. "There was another changeling in that hospital. I know this for a fact. When I find her - and I will - it will be all your fault. And I'm going to enjoy telling you of her capture." The interrogator walks towards the door, opens it, and shuts it with the mare trotting after him. Two guards walk in and take Edward to his cell.



(*)



Edward sits in the interrogation room. The diamond dog that caused him so much trouble was taken away during the night, no doubt to be executed. Edward spares another glance at the glass. The interrogator walks out of the door with the mare in tow and they both seat themselves.

Something's wrong, Edward. The voice interjects.

Edward tilts his head, questioningly. What do you mean?

This is our second session in the same room and we haven't even been introduced. Why? Worry starts creeping into the voice.

He's smart. I wouldn't put it past him to figure you out. Edward says, idly.

If he has, why keep me out of prison? He could easily have me arrested if he blew the whistle.

Edward shakes his head. I doubt it's any form of compassion. For now just keep your head down until Awakening.

Understood.

"Edward!"

Edward's eyes dart toward the interrogator. "What?"

The interrogator rolls his eyes. "I asked you if you know why I brought up fencing yesterday."

Edward smirks. "I assumed you had given up interrogating me and decided on small talk instead."

The interrogator leans over the table and meets eyes with Edward. "I propose the 'invasion' was little more than a fantastic feint to fool every pony in Canterlot and beyond, that the city itself was your goal. By doing this you drew attention away from your real aim."

Edward leans over as far as he can with his bindings. "What would our real aim be?"

The interrogator leans back in his chair and frowns. "I don't think it's something I could guess right away. No. You're crafty devils. Something small and not easily checked, or we would have noticed by now, a magical artifact?"

Edward glances both ways then whispers conspiratorially. "It was a t-shirt from the gift shop. We had to plan an elaborate exercise but we saved four bits on it."

The interrogator stands up and Edward's eyes track him. "What could possibly be so important that you were willing to compromise the knowledge of your existence just to acquire? Surely information that valuable wouldn't be given up so easily. What in Equestria for? A spellbook? A map? A small statue? What?"

The interrogator clutches his temples and falls to the floor. After a minute he stands up again breathing heavily. "Let's talk about some Changeling society for a moment." The interrogator sits down and puts his front hooves together. "You're ruler is obviously Queen Chrysalis."

"For now," Edward affirms.

"Is the queen the only member of the hive capable of producing offspring or can the workers claim this as well?" The interrogator asks.

Edward smirks again. "Actually, a little known fact about changelings is that they can make ponies pregnant with just a hoofshake."

The interrogator glances down at his hoof for a moment and shakes his head. "I'll take that as a 'no'."

Edward grins. "I do find it odd, however, that a species which can't mate has male and female workers."

Edward leans closer to the interrogator. "You said produce offspring; that doesn't mean we can't mate."

The interrogator coughs several times, uncomfortably. "That's all the time we have today."

The interrogator gestures to the window and two guards trot in and carry Edward to his cell.



(*)



Edward sits in his chair in the interrogation room, steadily carving away at the material constructing it. The interrogator trots in with the mare behind and sits down with a smile plastered across his face. "Do you know why I'm happy, Edward?"

Edward looks up at the buzzing ceiling in faux thought for a moment. "You stopped eating so many hay fries and started drinking more water?"

The interrogator's smile persists. "I know what you are."

Edward raises an eyebrow and leans back. "Nope, I've got nothing."

The interrogator runs a hoof through his mane. "The idea struck me because of the odd circumstances with the blue-eyed changeling. At that point you had no love energy and the other changeling did. Despite being obviously hungry, however, the blue-eyed changeling hadn't used the love she had collected. I thought about what situations could prompt this."

"Maybe she just didn't like the taste." Edward remarks.

The interrogator rubs at his eyes in a futile attempt to wipe away the dark rings beneath them. "Interesting but unlikely. No, I believe your job is as a love refiner of sorts, a chef, if you will. You craft the raw love the blue-eyed changelings collected and distribute it among them. This is a simple deterrent to changelings considering going rogue because they have no means to survive by themselves. I'm sure in battle you also coordinate strategies and such simply through your minds. The changeling Queen would of course be unaffected by these limits in abilities."

The interrogator looks at Edward expectantly. Edward tilts his head to the side and smiles. "You seem certain you're correct."

The interrogator sighs. "This is your last chance, Edward. You can either tell me everything you know. Or we start to torture it out of you."

Edward furrows his eyebrows. "'We'?"

The interrogator grins and a wild look flickers through his eyes. "Why yes. I believe that's where you come in, Needler. That is your strong suit." The interrogator leans down and smiles gleefully at the sitting mare. "Isn't it, 'Needler'?"

No. The voice whispers in Edward's head, suddenly realizing the interrogator's intentions.

The interrogator swivels his head to look at Edward. "Checkmate."