//------------------------------// // Interlude: The Professor's Conclusion // Story: Professor Layton and the Equestrian Silence // by Crystal Blue //------------------------------// Interlude: The Professor’s Reasoning “Y’all can’t be serious!” The orange earth pony felt all eyes on her, but she puffed up her chest in a defensive stance. “You’re silly, Professor!” giggled Pinkie Pie. “There’s no way Applejack would be a meanie mean-pants!” “Pinkie, darling, what the Professor means to say is that this is not Applejack.” Rarity’s explanation made enough sense for the pink mare. Now it was Celestia’s turn to ask. “Professor, this is a pretty bold claim to make. What brought you to these conclusions?” “My first question came to me whilst I was on the way to Ponyville for the first time...” Suddenly, the main doors opened, revealing four silhouettes. “Spike?” Twilight rubbed her eyes in surprise, caught off-guard by her assistant’s unannounced appearance. “The one and only,” Spike replied chirpily. “And I brought some guests, too!” Right on cue, the real Applejack, minus her hat, stepped from the doorway towards the crowd. Upon espying her copy, she grew irritated. “Now, what in the hayseed is this abou’?!” The only obstacle between the two Applejacks was Twilight’s magic holding her back by her tail. “Let me go, Twi! Ah’m gonna find mah answer!” “A.J., stop!” The unicorn responded rapidly. “Don’t rise to this phony!” “My suspicions were first raised,” Layton continued, “when we first met on the train.” “We didn’t meet on the train!” The false Applejack snapped, a touch of the farmpony’s accent slipping. “In which case,” Hershel responded, “let me bring in the one pony who you were masquerading then.” Again on cue, a second pony walked from the corridor. The pony was a blue unicorn, with a styled light blue mane. “Trixie demands what she is doing being carted around by an immature dragon!” “You know, I could’ve just left you in the barn...” The offended party growled through gritted teeth. “You’re in the Princesses’ court, Trixie. Show some respect!” “Tell me, Trixie,” the professor proceeded with his case. “Have we ever met before?” “What a ridiculous question! Trixie has never had need to cast eyes on you and your abomination of a headpiece. Trixie can show you a true hat if...” “TRIXIE LULAMOON!” Princess Luna used her Royal Canterlot Voice, having felt already that the blue mare’s self-obsessed rambling had ventured into the ridiculous. “You shall answer simply the questions that Professor Hershel Layton asks of you!” Everypony looked open-eyed at the lunar sister, who withdrew slightly in embarrassment. “Our... I mean, my apologies for nearly perforating everypony’s eardrums. Please continue.” She gestured to Layton. “What caught my eye on that very first journey is that, in spite of claiming to be a very talented user of magic, that version of Trixie reached for an item out of a cloak by using a hoof. When I received the map, it was in an unusable condition through being kept somewhere damp.” “But I have employees check that the trains are kept in pristine fashion, both inside and out!” Princess Celestia wore a look of concern. “In which case,” Hershel responded in kind, “the source of the damp was not the train itself, but the cloak in which it was kept. Or rather, the wearer of the cloak. The air was pleasantly cool upon our meeting, the candles barely brought the temperature above normal. So why would a pony perspire so much under such normal conditions?” “Of course!” Luke spoke up. “It had to be another layer of hair or clothing.” “Indeed, my boy. Another layer of clothing, much like that which can be fashioned as a disguise. Still, I would not say Trixie was completely vindicated of any and all crimes.” The unicorn in question gulped as all focus returned to her, less comfortably than she would have liked. The professor’s vocal tone turned considerably darker. “I have very little doubt that you were the pony who abducted Twilight in the royal carriage. As there was no way to teleport into the carriage in transit, you snuck into the carriage depot at the castle.” “Really?” Trixie was indignant to such an accusation. “What would make you believe that Trixie would stoop to such a low level?” “I would be willing to say that it was revenge. I am well aware of Twilight’s subduing of a strong creature in place of you, as all of the town of Ponyville bore witness to her triumph.” “Trixie... may have had a motive.” “But you also had a superior, a mastermind to this whole scheme, one who went by the personality of the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well.” The false Applejack winced at this mere mention. “Wait!” Rainbow Dash yelped in shock. “Mare-Do-Well still exists?!” “Indeed so, Miss Dash,” confirmed the older human. “However, I would say that in this case, such a title would be a misnomer. There were reports of two disguised ponies, one of whom was on the ground and dressed in black, carrying who I could deduce to be Applejack on their back. The other one was giving chase by flight, and, by eyewitness report, matched very similarly to Mare-Do-Well, whom Miss Sparkle, Miss Pie, Miss Zecora and myself encountered in the castle in the Everfree Forest.” “But I...” Trixie was about to start, but the professor continued. “But you were having second thoughts at that point. Your conscious got the better of you, now that your one strong enemy, Miss Sparkle, had been dealt with accordingly. You were trying to save Applejack from Mare-Do-Well, but you were caught. Applejack was placed in the Crumbling Chasm, and Trixie was held elsewhere.” “Trixie was held in the cherry orchard at Dodge Junction,” the mare announced. “That would explain the fruit aroma at the farm!” Luke was quick to point out. “Quite,” smiled Layton. “However, it was of my understanding that Macintosh couldn’t smell the cherry aroma. This struck me as peculiar, but not quite as peculiar as the partially-dried maroon paint. But what if Macintosh wasn’t actually Macintosh?” The remaining silhouette trotted from the hallway, revealing the hulking form of the stallion himself. “Tell me, Macintosh,” the archaeologist asked the red pony. “Can you remember who fixed your generator?” “Mah generator’s been fixed?!” blurted a surprised Big Macintosh. He stood for a small while, open-mouthed. “Indeed. Luke fixed it. However, it was not you who requested it of him, but an impostor. It would not be far-fetched to say that the maroon paint on the ground was actually an over-dried red, used as part of another disguise. Furthermore, I would say that as soon as Twilight, Luke and I left for Miss Fluttershy’s cottage, the impersonator set about kidnapping Applejack, placing her in the same barn as Miss Lulamoon and the real Macintosh.” “...Is that all you got?” the false Applejack responded flatly, raising an eyebrow. “It is not,” continued Layton, unabated. “I would believe that the same pony who kidnapped these three would be the same pony who destroyed Miss Fluttershy’s hutches. Due to Miss Fluttershy’s timid nature, it is highly likely that she made no mention of it until much later. I would hypothesise that our suspect would have destroyed the hutches before kidnapping Big Macintosh. “Trapping Pinkie Pie was very delicately planned, but crudely performed. Another showing by Mare-Do-Well further links in to the probability of a single mastermind. Finally, however, there was the weather factory incident. The hiring of one of the finest scientific minds in Canterlot would seal its success.” “Crystal Blue...” Both Princesses spoke in unison. “Yes,” the professor carried on. “A mind such as his would be enough to trap Miss Dash, but that was only knowledge to certain ponies. His plan worked, but he was betrayed by the mastermind of this scheme.” “However,” Layton spoke, raising a thoughtful finger, “no such plan is ever perfect. Another flaw I noticed was upon my second meeting with the impostor Trixie. The air in that train cabin smelled of sea water. This can be combined with the powder obtained from Miss Rarity’s tail. In my world, it is described as having a sodium base. The next flaw to be found was at Twilight’s library, another small pool of red paint, very wet. This brings me onto you.” Layton turned to the false Applejack. “Does anypony else notice something wrong about this Applejack’s appearance?” Everypony stared at the Applejack in the centre. “Um...” Fluttershy squeaked slightly. “What do you see, Fluttershy?” Layton turned to the quiet pegasus. “Well, her cutie mark isn’t right. It has two apples on top and one on the bottom. The real Applejack’s cutie mark has one on top and two on the bottom... Is... is that right?” “Very well observed, Fluttershy! Indeed, the cutie mark is incorrect on this Applejack. Now I shall unveil who this is, and how I believe it to be so.” Layton reached into the inside of his jacket, pulling out a leather case with gold trim. “Now, the only ponies to have known that Rainbow Dash would have been caught by surprise through such an ingenious device would have been close friends with Miss Dash, much like you, mystery mare. The code for this case is simple once you see it from that perspective." "4-1-19-8. D-A-S-H.” The case popped open, revealing a gleaming blue feather. The original owner of that feather finally had the truth dawn over her. “No...” Rainbow quivered. “It can’t be...” “The second item,” Layton proceeded, is the powder with the sodium base, better known as salt. Combine that with the smell of salt water, and it seems far to say that our suspect here is a common visitor of watering holes, for example, the Salt Flock in Appleloosa.” “It can’ be...” Big Mac’s realisation had sunk in. “Thirdly,” the professor concluded, “the date stamp on the ice puzzle in this very castle was not recognised as being of pony origin, which could mean you are not really a pony. Finally, one slip of the tongue revealed you as being Trixie’s doppelganger. When I stepped into the Salt Flock, you greeted me as a professor without me even introducing myself. Apart from that Trixie impersonation, only the Princesses, a select few Canterlot Castle staff and select Ponyvillians knew of my profession. News does not travel that quickly from Ponyville to Appleloosa.” With this, Layton turned to the rest of the group, who stood nonplussed. “The date stamp, 12-He-1003, is not of pony origin, but from the origin of the griffon.” He turned to the suspect one last time, bringing his voice to a restrained tone. “I think it is about time for you to reveal yourself, Gilda.”