//------------------------------// // Act 2, Chapter 38: New Boss in Town // Story: Starlight Over Detrot: A Noir Tale // by Chessie //------------------------------// Starlight Over Detrot Act 2, Chapter 38: New Boss in Town An impression common among many of Equestria’s less friendly neighbors – such as the changelings, diamond dogs, the remaining dragons, and some of the more xenophobic buffalo and griffins - is that Equestrian employment is a function of the Sun Tyrant branding all ponies just before puberty with their assigned societal position, in which they must toil their entire lives in service to the Solar Empire or be banished to the moon. A misunderstanding to be sure, but an easy one to make. It is true that the cutie mark defines a pony’s destiny and/or goals, and thus their ideal form of employment. Those who seek justice become cops or lawyers; those who seek to spread joy become party planners, masseurs or pharmaceutical researchers, and so on. This usually works out pretty well, although labor demands and the Cutie Market don’t always hold exactly the same shape, and even with ideal career representation on every citizen’s hindquarters, there are margins where unemployment can arise. Equestria is equipped with generous social safety nets and excellent universal health care, through a combination of Celestia’s generosity, charity drives amongst the Canterlot and Manehattan aristocracy, and the work of good-hearted ponies everywhere. That said, those social safety nets are not always entirely reliable, because in Equestria, government shutdowns are not exactly unheard of. In other nations, shutdowns occur due to gridlock or partisanship(which in some griffin tribes involves actual partisans). In Equestria, shutdowns occur when the heads of government flee through magic portals, get eaten by mad trees… or when ancient evils show up, decide they want to feast on everypony’s magic/love/intangibles/obscure bodily fluids, and kidnap various Princesses. Even locally, the social services office may be temporarily closed because one of the workers brushed the wrong artifact and wrecked the building with a 50-foot plate-wielding equipomorphic manifestation of last night’s domestic squabble. So most ponies prefer to actually find employment, although things get tough when one can’t find a position that aligns with one’s talent. Equestrian employers take Special Talents strongly into consideration when hiring ponies, and the only jobs which will readily take ponies who can’t find work in their own fields tend to be hideously unpleasant yet deeply in demand – such as rock farmers, magical contamination clean-up crews, and most infamously, cutie mark acquisition counselors. Still, there are times when perfect career alignment is trumped by simple necessity. -The Scholar Please stand by.          I knew it was my imagination and it was likely to take us days to exhaust the air supply in Tourniquet’s chamber, but I felt like there was a weight pressing on my chest with every breath. Please stand by. An earth pony might be more okay with being underground than most pegasi or unicorns, but nopony wants to die of suffocation because their show-off of a librarian cut the wrong wire. We’d been ‘standing by' for a full fifteen minutes since Limerence’s last report and any attempts to shout at him had been ignored. That or he’d shut off the speaker. I wished, not for the first time, that I’d thought to bring a watch. We’d been in Supermax for hours and the dawn was likely soon approaching. Much as my own oxygen needs were going to get pressing at a point, all those cultists were in their cells in much the same condition and with a shorter time-frame. That was more dead bodies than I think my conscience could handle.          “Taxi, how's your leg?” I asked my driver, trying to distract myself from thoughts of asphyxiation.          She touched the bandage, then shook her head. “I can feel the bullet in the muscle when I walk, but it’s not bleeding anymore.”          I turned to my partner, who was still wrapped around Tourniquet, hugging the construct like a teddy-bear. The cables coming out of the girl’s back had gone dead, save for pulsing only occasionally. “What about you, kid?” “I’m… so far beyond scared right now, Sir, that I’m not really sure what I’m feeling,” Swift replied. Her feather-tips shook with every word. “Can we get out of here if Lim can’t get the door open?” “Well, we’ve got two earth ponies and a fair bit of ordnance left over. If nothing else, we might be able to use some parts of that dragon or maybe hot-wire the door…” “Sir, I know you think I’m kinda gullible and... you’re probably right about that, but by now I can tell when you’re lying to me,” Swift murmured, giving me a reproachful look from behind one of Tourniquet’s ears. I rubbed the spot between my eyes with my hooftip and swallowed my ego. I’d thought I was a little bit better liar than that. Still, there’s nothing I do worse than tell a good friend bad news. “I’m sorry, kid. I’ve got no idea how we’ll get out of here if he can’t fix whatever happened. We’ve come this far, though, and Limerence is nothing if not both intelligent and stubborn. He’ll figure something out. We can have Queenie send for somepony to… do something. Maybe. I don’t know how they’d get in. Maybe Chief Jade could break us out if we tell her Cerise is still down in the temple...” Swift thought for a moment, then her lips curled into a weak smile. “Sir, if we don’t get out - I know this is going to sound totally crazy after all this insane stuff we’ve done since I met you last month - but I think I had fun.” “Heh...yeah. Celestia save me, I did too,” I replied, leaning back on the carpet with a slightly dusty plush cat for a pillow. “I’m fine, too if anyone cares.” Geranium said, grumpily, as she stretched out beside me. **** You’d think time would pass quickly, but there’s only so many heartfelt statements of comradeship you can make before you start to get a bit bored. Once we’d gotten most of them out of our system, including a lovely soliloquy from Sweets, we settled in for the business of waiting either for news or death. Swift refused to leave Tourniquet’s side, holding the stiffly sitting girl with one leg for the first half hour before deciding that was less comfortable and slumping back to back. Geranium, meanwhile, had taken a good twenty minutes to chew me out with a surprisingly diverse vocabulary of cuss words before she’d gotten down to the business of sulking in a corner. Silence had reigned for more than ten minutes, since none of us could really think of anything to say. Even tic-tac-toe couldn’t hold my attention for long. I threw myself to my hooves. Taxi looked up from a crossword book she’d pillaged from Tourniquet’s supply and Swift yawned, lazily, rubbing her tummy with one hoof as she watched me get up in a determined fashion for the fourth or fifth time in the last hour. “Alright, I think we’re down to trying to force the door again.” “Oh, sit down and let us all die with some damn dignity, Detective,” the lawyer complained, poking through a box of broken doll parts with one hoof. Swift shook her head and rolled onto her side. “Ugh...Sir, we tried kicking it, digging through the dragon for any organs that might explode, blowing it up with extra shells, trying to open the wall panels and short of a Cloudhammer I don’t think-” “Detective! This is Limerence!” Limerence’s sweet, sweet voice echoed around the chamber. “You bastard! What took you so long!?” I shouted. “Pardon the extended wait. I had to disable the speaker system for some period while I figured out what one of the secondary systems was routed through. Turned out it was connected to the ice-cream maker in the floor two kitchens… eheh… mmm… yes…” He trailed off into a self-conscious cough. “Better safe than sorry, as they say. Anyway, I managed to remove all of the jury rigging and I should be able to return control to the construct now.” “Throw the damn switch!” I barked. “There... is no switch that I can see… I have several levers and a toggle-” “Turn the air back on or I swear to the high holy heavens I will find you in the afterlife and-” “Pardon, yes… ah… throwing... ‘the switch’.” I shut my eyes and waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. No fans spooling up. No hum of technology. I opened one eyelid. Tourniquet was still where she had been, but like a marionette that’d just been picked up by the puppet master, her eyes were wide and she was looking all around. She glanced down to find Swift’s legs wrapped tightly around her midsection. “Detective… Mister… Mister Hard Boiled?” she asked, plaintively. I was so relieved that I almost hugged her. The relief lasted just long enough for me to take stock of my surroundings again. Then the worry returned. “Hardy, I still don’t hear the ventilation system,” Taxi said. “Oh Celestia, we’re all gonna diiie…” Geranium threw her hooves in the air and flopped onto her back. I raised my voice. “Limerence! We’ve still got no air coming through here!” “I… I am uncertain what is wrong, Detective. That... should have turned everything back on.” “What happened?” Tourniquet asked, her eyebrows drawn together as she put her legs around Swift, then looked up at the still-dark cables leading out of her back. “Everything was...was starting up again! Now I can’t see anything! Not even outside! All my sensors are down!” “Limerence was futzing with your controls downstairs, trying to fix you… and he tripped something,” I answered. “The last thing I remember was him asking if he should disconnect the ITCV Security Control Matrix and I said ‘yes’, but… oh… oh no. I got it out of order! Oh, stupid, stupid pony!” She smacked herself on the forehead with a hoof. “He needed to attach the system to the adjacent power generator first for a clean transfer… then he disconnected... wait... oh... oh my gosh!” The mechanical filly put a toe to the side of her head and her shining eyes dimmed slightly. I couldn’t read her expression but it seemed somewhere between fear and excitement. “Ohmygoshohmygosh!” Tourniquet’s voice rose until the speaker in her throat crackled then bounced up onto her rear hooves. “Ohmygosh!” “What is it, honey? Come on, talk to us!” I said, trying to keep the hard edge out of my words that I was definitely feeling. “There’s… there’s no warden! Whatever Mister Limerence did, there’s no more warden!” she gasped. “Of course there’s no Warden, honey. Your mom…” “I don’t mean like that! All my security protocols were erased! All the authorizations! They’re all gone! I’m going to go to sleep soon unless there’s… unless there’s a Warden.” She paused, and yawned, her eyes dimming. “There has to be a Warden.” “But… you mean there’s some kind of security protocol that ties this place to one pony?” I asked, incredulously. She nodded as a sudden weariness seemed to overtake her and she sank onto her stomach. “Yes. It… it was always Mom. I mean, Mom was always the Warden, even after she left. Somepony has to be the Warden or all the locks close. Everything closes. I didn’t even… I didn’t even know until just now, but that’s what’s happening.” I stood there, processing that statement. “Sir, we can’t... we can’t let her go to sleep. How would we wake her up again?” Swift asked, urgently. “I know that, kid. I just… don’t know what to do to stop it,” I murmured. I heard a noise and looked sideways at Geranium. Her eyes had lit up and she took a sudden step forward. “I’ll be the Warden!” she declared, confidently lifting her chin. Tourniquet snorted, derisively, wiping at her eyes as she forced herself upright. “Yeah, right. I don’t like you, Miss Geranium… and I’m not dumb, either.” The lawyer looked crestfallen. I shot her a glare that could have peeled paint. “Well, it was worth a shot…” she said. “It’s not like I’d have ordered her to kill you, or anything. I need you alive, remember?” I held out my hoof to my driver, who leaned over and smacked Geranium across the back of the head. “Well… what about me?” I asked. “I don’t trust you, Mister Detective,” she replied, her eyes flickering at my face then down at my chest where my badge hung. “You’d lie to me if you thought it would make things better, or if you didn’t need me and you thought I was in your way.” I didn't argue the point; I just stepped back and glanced over at my driver. Taxi looked pensive as she asked, “And me?” Tourniquet regarded my driver with a hint of a grimace. “You’re really familiar, you know. I know where I saw a pony like you before.” My driver drew back a little, as though the girl might sting her. “Where?” she asked, nervously. “Mom. Mom used to be like you,” the filly replied, sadly. “Before I got hurt, she was like you. If somebody you loved died and you stopped trying to be better I think you’d be like her, too. I love my mom, but… but I know she’s a bad pony. I don’t want a bad pony to have all the stuff here again. She hurt too many people.” “Then…?” Turning around, the mechanical filly pointed. “Me?!” Swift squeaked. Tourniquet dipped her head. “I… I trust you. I dunno why. Maybe because... because I don’t think you ever wanted to hurt ponies before. Because I think you’d stop him if he ever lost his way.” She gestured at me with a flick of her tail. “Honey, what… exactly is… involved in being the Warden of Supermax?” I asked, feeling a bit of caution might be in order. Reaching out to Swift, Tourniquet winced as she had to drag her rear legs across the carpet. She seemed to have lost motor control in them. “The Warden or whoever they assign as a lieutenant is responsible for the wellbeing of everypony here. The prisoners. The guards. Me. They are Supermax… and their law is my law. My power is their power. They will be forever safe in my walls. They will have to be linked with me until they die. I’m going to seal that extra control room once Mister Limerence is done fixing things, and nopony will ever go in there again.” I looked over at Swift who was biting her lip, anxiously. “Sir...what should I do?” she asked, her wings splayed out from her back as she looked down at Tourniquet’s glittering eyes. “I don’t know how to be the Warden of a prison. I mean, I don’t even… I can’t be here all the time...and I don’t…I couldn’t even keep a goldfish alive when I was a foal. Are you sure there’s nopony else?” Tourniquet shifted onto her stomach, resting her head on Swift’s shoulder. “There’s nopony I want. Please? I really...I really don’t want to go back to sleep...” The lights in her eyes were fading fast. Time was short. “Kid, we either do this...or we try that door again,” I said. “I know!” Swift snapped, lifting Tourniquet to look into her young face, studying the metal around her eyes. She took a deep breath and thrust her chest out. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the Warden of Supermax.” For long seconds, there was no response. Tourniquet’s eyes were still closed. “Damn…” I muttered, looking towards the sealed door. “Alright, if I could improvise a pen-knife or something of the sort, I might shell open one of Taxi’s remaining kinetic shells-” Then, like a loving caress on my neck, I felt the breeze. Power surged through the cables down from the ceiling and Tourniquet’s eyes snapped open, blazing with life and energy. She grinned as the cords attaching her to the ceiling pulled tight, raising her into the air and out of my partner’s forelegs. Flares of energy and bursts of sparks shot from the walls, momentarily blinding me as the whole room was lit with fiery magic. My muzzle hung open as I stared up at her, arcane fire coiling around her body as the ladybugs spiraled in ever greater circles around her. The arcing electrical forces danced over Girthranx, casting strange shadows on the body and the desiccated corpses hanging from his exposed ribs, but nothing could have ruined the absolute glee in the eyes of Swift’s friend. Tourniquet giggled, swinging around on her fiber optic strings as she waved her hooves just for the joy of it. “I… I can see everything! Mechanical room surveillance and my external communications are still down, but… but everything else! The sky! Swift, I see the sky! All the stars! I can see the city, too!” she cried. A happy little tune started up somewhere and the sealed door cranked itself open with a rush of releasing vacuum. “Detective! I’ve got activity down here. What’s happened?” Limerence inquired. Even the speaker sounded better. “Mister Limerence!” Tourniquet called out. “You can stop now! I’m fixed! I just… oh.” She frowned and her cords went slack, sending her to the ground in front of Swift. “Um… I just found a procedure in my instructions for the assignment of the new Warden.” My partner tilted her head to one side, flipping an ear interestedly. “What kind of ‘procedure’?” She nodded, swirling her hoof in a circle against the side of her face. “It’s like… like some kinda magic ritual. I’ve got restored access to all my stuff, but it’s temporary. The Warden has to be given the ‘key’ or the system will lock up again.” “So, what exactly is the key? I doubt we can go get anything from your mother,” I said. “It’s nothing like that! I mean, it’s not actually a key. It’s more like… the idea of a key,” Tourniquet said, cryptically. “It’s kind of… awkward, actually.” Swift got to her hooves, fluffing her wide wings against her sides as she brushed at the bunny patch on her combat vest for good luck. “I think I just want a nap really badly right now and I’ll do almost anything to get it, so… how bad could it be?” Tourniquet hesitated for a long moment. “Um… how do you think your parents would react if you got a tattoo?” “A... a tattoo?!” Swift exclaimed. “Yeah. It’s like with drawing my symbol to control somepony, except this symbol is how you control me.” “You mean, I have to have something on me forever?!” “Errr… maybe… a little? I could totally put it someplace discreet!” she replied, raising her metal hoof with the glowing icon on it. “I think that’s why Mom always wore a shawl. She was hiding her mark.” Swift looked nonplussed. Rather than object, however, she tugged the zipper on the front of her vest open, pulling it half-way down to expose her chest fur. Something dawned on her and she sagged a little. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?” “It might… kind of… uh… a little… yeah.” Tourniquet rubbed her nose with her free hoof, self-consciously. “If there were another way, I totally would! I mean, maybe you can get another tattoo and work mine into it! Or you could wear lots of turtlenecks. You might even-” My partner covered her friend’s muzzle with her toe. “Shush… it’s okay. I mean, what are friends for, if not giving you ridiculous tattoos and funny stories, right?” She faced me, holding out of her leg. “Sir, could you hold my hoof while I do this?” I laughed, good naturedly, and put a foreleg around hers. “Kid, I’m buying you and Taxi the biggest ice-cream in history when this is over. I think a little hoof-holding is well within the realm of reason. Besides, you and The Warden of Tartarus will have something in common you can talk about on your date!” Swift’s mouth dropped open and she started to form some kind of retort when I jerked my head at Tourniquet. The filly nodded her understanding and pressed her foot to Swift’s breast, just above her heart. There was burst of light, followed a puff of smoke. The smell of burning fur hit me like a wave, followed by charring meat. I clutched Swift’s hoof as she made a sound somewhere between a tire having the air let out of it and a ferret being charbroiled alive. Her pupils vanished as she fell to one side so fast I barely had time to catch her. Every muscle in her body seemed to relax simultaneously except her wings, which shot out from her sides, nearly cold-cocking me as I struggled to hold her upright. It was most of a minute before she could speak. The stink of flash-fried hair still filled my nose and Swift was breathing quick and heavy, her face buried in my fur. “Kid… come on, you alright?” I asked. She nodded slightly, then raised her head as Tourniquet stepped back and shook a bit of steam off her metal hoof. “Ow,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry, Swift,” her friend apologized. “These security protocols are so stupidly finicky...” “I’m suddenly glad you didn’t pick me,” Geranium commented, lip curled with distaste as she waved the smelly smoke away from her nose. Swift was quivering as she pulled back and tried to look down at her chest. The angle was too low. “Can... can I have a mirror or something?”           Tourniquet nodded and pointed towards a mirror mounted on the side of one of her bookshelves in the middle of the little nursery. “Sure. Over there.”          Hauling her back legs under herself, my partner moved over to the mirror and stood there looking at her breast.          “Well, I’ll say this… I’ve seen worse," I mused. "Detective Parrot in Narcotics has a tattoo of a chicken on his inner thigh. Orange with purple feathers. Funniest thing,”          The crescent scorched into Swift’s flesh was bright red, with bits of darker skin around the edges that looked like they’d been dyed that color. For something that appeared to have been burnt into horse fur, it was surprisingly sharp, without any of the puckering or boiling around the edges I tended to associate with heat injuries.          “It… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said, touching the fresh mark lightly.          “I believe that’s a… magic brand,” Taxi said, tilting her head to examine the moon shape from another angle. “Funny. I haven’t seen one of those since I left the zebra lands.” “Okay, you’ve got total access!” Tourniquet chirped. “All of Supermax! Any door, any cell, and anything you want to do is yours.... heeeheee… Warden!” Swift turned to me, her toe still on the brand. “Sir, what do we do?” “Well… hmmm. Is there any way of disabling the cultists on the top couple of floors?” I asked. Tourniquet scratched at her mane, then nodded. “There’s the emergency lockdown and containment procedure. That should totally do it.” “Um… how do I turn it on?” Swift asked. “Say ‘initiate emergency lockdown and containment procedure’, then which floors,” “Oh… Do I have to? Can’t you just… you know… do it? I’m gonna sound silly-” “Please? I never got to hear it when Mom was running things and I always wanted to try this!” Tourniquet gave my partner a pouty-faced look, complete with jutting lower lip and big, shiny eyes. Swift grinned, adopting one of those ridiculous super hero poses with one hoof in the air. “Initiate emergency lockdown and containment procedure! Top three floors!” A klaxon sounded from somewhere and red lights flashed on the walls. Putting her hooves in the air, Tourniquet rose until she hung above us in the center of the room. “Initiating emergency lockdown procedures.” It was still her voice, but even a child’s voice can be terrifying if it’s vibrating the floor under your hooves. “All prisoners will report to their cells. Any prisoner not in their cell will be subject to disciplinary measures. Teleport interdiction is in effect. Magic nullification is in effect.” Distant machines began clinking, clunking, and rattling to life as the old prison woke from its long sleep. The ceiling writhed and flashed like a nest of neon snakes, dancing shadows lending unnatural life to the toys scattered around the floor. Ladybugs spun and twirled, more and more of them pouring in through the door until it seemed to whole room was full of the little creatures as they played and frolicked around the metallic filly. Tourniquet looked down at my partner and held out her hoof. Swift laughed, bending her wings towards the ground as she blasted up into the air, coming to a hover in front of her new friend. Reaching out, they touched toes for just an instant. A mischievous smile grew on Tourniquet’s face and she tilted her head back to address the ponies upstairs. When she spoke again, it was less formal and robotic, but for that reason a whole heap scarier. If I’d been wearing a starry robe just then, I’m pretty sure I’d have been galloping for the hills, as little good as that might have done. “For all of those who are looking around right now, wondering whether or not this is some kind of joke, you should know that I am the construct. I run this prison. I am a magical being and I control whether you breathe, whether you wake or sleep, and whether you ever leave.” She paused, letting that sink into all of those disparate minds upstairs. “You’ve never met me and you’ve never heard of me, but I’ve always been here. I watched you every day, in your beds, in your showers, and in all your little sins. When you prayed, it was me who listened. Not Princess Luna. Not the sky. Me.” She bared her teeth and the hidden speakers let out a mechanical snarl that shook the very air. “I controlled this prison before your leader stole it from me and my Mom! I am older than all of you and I eat the magic of dragons! You can’t escape me. You can’t run from me.” Tourniquet paused and drew in a breath. I had to clap my hooves over my ears, lest I be deafened, but I could still feel her words right down in my bones. “Miss Skylark was a thief and a murderer! She’s dead now… and there’s a new Warden in Supermax!” **** Swift trotted along beside me, high stepping every inch of the way. She’d zipped her combat vest back up to her throat, but she was still looking far too pleased with herself. “Kid, if your nose gets any higher in the air, it’s going to get struck by lightning the minute we leave the building,” I nickered, trotting along at my partner’s side. “Yeah, well… I’m the Warden here!” she squeaked, stomping all four hooves with excitement. “Oh, gosh, I can’t wait to tell my grandmother!” “This is going to be a thing from now on, isn’t it?” Taxi laughed. “Gods, I hope not,” Geranium grumbled, trudging along behind us. “I had to put up with one whiny filly with a power complex already.” A faint buzz surrounded Geranium’s hooves and she yelped and danced away from the spot as though stung. “Aaand I can still hear you, yah know… heehee! By the way, I got the taser system working. It’s not very strong, yet. It wouldn’t even tickle a dragon,” Tourniquet put in from the speakers nearest us. “How are your power levels?” I asked as Geranium tried to glare everywhere at once. “We’re going to have to find some alternative to letting you tap life magic from the Lunar Passage.” “I’m okay for now. Nopony outside will notice I’m draining them at these levels for at least a week or two. Then they’ll probably start sleeping long hours.” “Huh. Alright. How are things outside the prison? Any movement?” “Nothing out there. My sensors are detecting a brand new electrical cable running just under the surface less than twenty meters from my front door. That wasn’t there fifteen years ago.” She hesitated, then said, “If I could tap it, it looks like it’s running more than...gosh! It’s running plenty!” Taxi adjusted the bandage on her shoulder and said, “I haven’t seen anything in here that won’t work on regular old electricity. There’s no reason we couldn’t figure a method for switching her over, really, is there?” “We’re getting our chickens well ahead out our eggs, here,” I said, turning down another hallway in the direction of the mechanical room. “We still have to get out.” “Oh! Yes! Speaking of that, you’ll need the filtration suits!” Tourniquet said. “Filtration suits? What are we ‘filtering’? We’re not leaving through the sewers again.” “Nope! Lockdown triggered my prisoner incapacitation system! All prisoners who weren’t in their cells on the top few floors have been hit with Sleeping Willow dust. My ventilation systems will clear it eventually, but it’s going to be a few days.” “Wait… Sleeping Willow dust?” Taxi asked, pausing to bite her lip. “That’s been illegal to use on prisoners for the last… Oh, right." "...What exactly is Sleeping Willow dust, Sweets?” I inquired. My driver sighed and shook her head. “It’s what it sounds like. Dust from the Sleeping Willow tree,” she explained. “It has anti-magic properties and it’ll knock you cold for a week or until it’s washed off, whichever comes first. They used to use it during the war because it’ll put down a dragon in big enough quantities. No ordinary filter spell will keep it out. Only full body mechanical filters and some very specific kinds of static spell fields, both of which were too big for the dragons to mass produce. Get it on your hooves or your mane though and you’re in for a long nap.” “Who came up with something like that?” Geranium asked, looking disturbed. “And why is it illegal if it just puts you to sleep? “Nature came up with it, but ponies weaponized it,” Taxi continued, with a tiny shrug of her uninjured shoulder. “The Sleeping Willow tree puts anything that wanders under it into what amounts to an artificial coma. Their bodies draw scavengers or hunters, who also get dusted. They decompose and that feeds the tree. It’s an ugly thing that used to grow in the Wilderness. They’re mostly extinct now and illegal because of the peace treaty. The dragons were thorough in getting rid of them after the war.” “Goodie,” I groaned. “I’m seeing how this used to work. If there’s a riot, everypony in the building goes to sleep. Guards. Prisoners. Everypony. Once they’re out or contained, ponies come from outside wearing filter suits. They clean up and there’s no danger.” “So the whole top three floors are covered in this stuff? Anypony not in a cell?” Swift asked, putting a hoof over her eyes. “And… I did that?” Geranium sniggered at her. “Yup! Good first day on the job, huh, ‘Warden’?” To her credit, Swift didn’t feel the need to reply directly. Instead, the lawyer’s hooves started to buzz and she yelped, bouncing backwards onto her flank. “Oh! Neat! Looks like I can control the tasers in here with my mind!” Swift giggled, prancing along beside me. “Nope, but I thought it was pretty funny, anyway!” Tourniquet said from an overhead speaker. “So… how many ponies are currently unconscious?” I asked. “I only got a few. I locked most of the cell doors and lowered the protective plating before I turned on the dust flow,” she answered. “You sound disappointed. Were you hoping to get the whole cult at once?” I laughed. “How would you feel if you had a big, shiny red button your whole life that you could never press? Then when you got to press it, it only got like, twenty ponies?” “Point taken,” I nickered. “Okay, so… where are these filter suits?” “The Mechanical Room. They should be in a closet down there. Most of the guard stations had them, but most of the guard stations were cleared out when they closed me last time.” I flipped the collar of my jacket up as we turned the corner and saw the Mechanical Room up ahead, its security door already invitingly open. “Alright, then we can go collect Limerence, Skylark’s box, and Cerise. Once we’re out, we’ll figure out what to do with our prisoners.” -****          For some reason, the Mechanical Room seemed to be even more of a mess the second time down. The dead hadn’t had time to start smelling bad just yet, but the blood splashed liberally across the carpet and the corpses lined up against the wall had us all covering our noses. Nightmare Moon’s broken statue still lay where it’d fallen; another body for the pile. Swift hadn’t puked in a bit, but she was looking a sickly green again.          “Celestia save me, Sir. I… I was just upstairs for an hour or so. I forgot what happened here, or at least… I kinda put it out of my mind.. Is that wrong?” my partner asked as the four of us stood in the door, looking at the broken pews, the torn tapestries, and the row of robe-strewn bodies. A mare they hadn’t been able to recover was still tangled in the wall-hangings where she’d been thrown by Cerise.          “I don’t think so, kid,” I replied, forcing myself to move down the row of pews. “I think that’s your brain trying not to scream and piss itself.”          “Oh.”          “Just try not to think about it. We’ll be out of here soon and then you can get on with the business of developing severe post-traumatic stress and alcoholism.”          “You’re much better at comforting somepony when you don’t try, Sir,” Swift replied, giving me a little swat on the hip with one wing.          Cerise was where we’d left her, sprawled on the rug with a rolled-up robe for a pillow and another for a blanket. So far as I could tell she hadn’t moved, but then if Limerence was right her body had some serious healing to do. I trotted over to her side, pushing back the sheet so I could look down at her young face. It was strange seeing Chief Jade laying there without all the years of drug abuse, stress, and dead friends adding lines to her face.          “Poor thing,” Taxi said, brushing a strand of mane out of the girl’s eyes. “She was just trying to make her own life in a city her mother practically owns.”          “I’m surprised she didn’t leave town,” Geranium murmured, joining my driver at the girl’s side. “I don’t know her story, but I would have.”          “Would you really?” I asked, swatting a fly buzzing around my side. “I’ve said that myself plenty of times. Detrot is a city that eats ponies. Maybe it always was. You knew that when you started working as a lawyer… and you didn’t leave, even back when it was an option.”          At that, Geranium frowned, looking thoughtful as she moved back to sit on one of the pews.          Trotting over to the hidden alcove, I stuck my head down the hallway and shouted, “Hey! Limerence! Shake a tail! We’re leaving!”          “One moment, Detective!” he called back. His rear-end appeared before the rest of him as he backed into the hall. His horn was glowing as it came into view, but he was hauling on something with his teeth. It was Skylark’s box.          I moved to help him, working around his side to take up the other handle in my teeth so we could carry it down the hallway comfortably. The taste of blood almost made me gag. It’s somehow easier when you don’t know whose blood is on your tongue.          We hauled the box into the temple and thumped it down beside Cerise.          “Miss Skylark was most thorough with her personal security measures. Two primary unicorn-proofed locks, a secondary internal lock that could only be opened with a catch handle, and a gas bomb trap that may or may not have been lethal,” Limerence said, casually shoving the top of the box open. “It took me almost four minutes to get it open.”          “Lim, if you ever come over to my house, I’m checking your pockets for silverware when you leave,” I commented, peering into the box.  Skylark’s chest was a mish-mash of toolbox, chest of drawers, and crazily obsessive devotional art piece. Every inch of the interior that wasn’t taken up by heaps of old clothes was covered in newspaper clippings of either Princess Luna or notable thefts. I picked up the top piece of clothing, which was a conical purple magician’s hat. Underneath there was a matching cape covered in sparkling sequins. Both pieces were travel-worn and looked like they’d been patched and cared for down through the years. I turned over the edge of the cape and found a tiny slip of paper that said, ‘To my sweet little star! Go put on the most amazing shows the world has ever seen! Love,-’. The name was smudged out. There was no other indication of who it might have come from. Taxi flipped open one of the drawers, finding it empty, then closed it again and fiddled around with something underneath it until, with a soft pop, she hit a hidden catch. As she opened it again, she whistled softly. “Oooh, darling, you had lovely taste.” The drawer was heaped with jewelry in dozens of styles. Even my untrained eye could pick up a couple of impressive pieces. She pawed through it, trying out one of the rings on her fetlock. Right down near the bottom, there was a necklace with three red ruby cherries. I picked that up and examined it for some time, then pocketed it and turned back to the rest of the box’s contents.          “Sir, should we be going through her stuff like this? She’s dead-” Swift said, sounding a bit disturbed.          “Kid, I’d put money on that every inch of this is stolen,” I cut her off. “You want to turn it into DPD lost and found? It’s probably been a damn long time since it was ripped off. Ponies who can afford to buy this stuff insure it against theft and I doubt any of them are looking.”          “Couldn’t we… I dunno… take it to a charity or something?” she asked, dubiously poking at the ring on my driver’s leg. “This feels kind of wrong for some reason.”          “We’re just looking right now,” I said, with a little shrug.          “Speak for yourself,” Taxi sniffed, picking up a heap of jewels and stuffing them into her saddlebag. “If we need liquid monies at some point, I know a fence who will pay top dollar. Stella’s generous and that’s fantastic, but I’d rather have some options that couldn’t be traced back to him.”          My partner grimaced and stepped back, dropping her backside onto the carpet in a way that suggested oncoming sulking. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and tried to think how to explain the realities of being a cop on the run to her, only to realize I wasn’t entirely sure of them myself.          Limerence, of all ponies, came to my rescue.          “Miss Swift… while you may not appreciate the practical aspects of digging through the pockets of the dead, please be aware, Skylark would have happily dug through yours,” Limerence said, lifting a newspaper clipping that said ‘Pants Family Mausoleum robbed, Ebon Kitten suspected.' “We are fulfilling a need in furtherance of our duties to create order in this city. That these jewels had a former owner makes them no less valuable, nor does their value make that owner any less ‘former’.” Swift bit her lower lip between her sharp back teeth, then slowly nodded before reaching into the box and pushing aside the cloak and hat to see what was underneath. A girl’s diary which looked to have been owned, at one time, by a very young Astral Skylark was dumped at the very bottom. Part of the cover was missing, but the words ‘Kitty’s Journal! Top Secret, My Eyes Only’ were still legible.          I picked up the diary, flipping open the first few pages. Most of them had been burned quite badly and the most recent ones were undated, but I stuffed it into my pocket anyway.          “I think this might do us, kiddos,” I said, turning in a slow circle to look around the remains of the Mechanical Room. “Where are the filtration suits?”          Taxi nodded her head towards a narrow door on one wall. “That looks like a secure storage locker.”          “Ahhh, let’s see then! These war-time hazard suits were always enchanted with some very interesting spells. My father has acquired several and every one sells for quite a pretty penny,” Limerence said, trotting over to the door and popping the handle.          As the door swung open, a thick puff of colorful powder burst from inside, blanketing him from head to hooves, followed by an avalanche of junk that crashed and bounced down around his ankles. Taxi yelped and grabbed me by the collar, yanking me back. Swift took the cue and her wings burst open, sweeping the dust away from us.          Limerence looked like a rainbow-flour-covered ghost as he stood there for a few moments, one hoof upraised and the handle of the locker still glowing with his horn’s magic. He let it fade and dropped his leg, turning to face us.          “Detective… I am… more than slightly upset to report that I have discovered where the Cult of Nightmare Moon were keeping their Beam reserves and sexual aids.” Very slowly, like a tree falling in a storm, Limerence dropped onto his haunches, then slid onto his stomach. “Aristrotle save me, I... do believe this is going to be undignified.”          I shut my eyes and tried to fortify myself. The night had been extremely long and extremely taxing.          “Lim… does that spell of yours for cleansing toxins from the blood work on Beam?” I asked, trying to think quickly. I could manage walking pace, at least.          Limerence gave his head a firm shake, then blinked a few times as he stared up at me. “It may. Oh… heavens. The visual effects of this drug do come on very quickly, don’t they? Ehh, pardon me, yes… I’ll just… cast it shall I?”          His horn lit up and I ducked as a blast of explosive energy shot from the tip just passed one of my ears and hit the far wall with a crack of splitting masonry.          “Hrm… it seems I am being… uh… heh… affected,” Limerence replied as a slightly goofy smile crept onto his slim face. “Shall I try again?”          “No! Celestia, no!” I barked, covering my head with one leg. “Just...sit still and let us try to wash this crap off. Sweets? Any ideas?”          My driver made a soft noise and I turned to find her with both hooves stuffed in her mouth. “Could you hold the laughing hyena act and get him a towel, please?”                   She tried force the grin off her muzzle as she pulled a rag from her saddlebag, along with a rubber sock which she slipped on and began trying to wipe the beam off of Lim’s flanks.          Geranium wasn’t feeling nearly so helpful.          “Bwaaahahaha! Oh, Detective! I needed that!” she howled, rolling back and forth on the carpet. Her tail slapped against my legs and I gave her a firm swat that did nothing to quiet her laughter. “He’s going to be higher than a kite for the next four hours! That’s if he’s lucky!”          “Mmm… Detective, I never noticed how… how nice a shade of yellow Miss Taxi is. It’s quite aesthetically… pleasing.” Limerence smiled and put his hoof on my driver’s shoulder, gently running his hoof in little circles as she tried to mop the powdered beam out of his mane.          Rather than smack him, she actually blushed. I suppose there’s something in the feminine mind that appreciates a genuine compliment, even if the pony in question is wrecked on psychedelics.          “Um… damn. Hardy, this stuff isn’t coming out. At least, not enough to matter. We need to get him to a shower or something.” Swift shut her eyes and sat down as a ladybug wiggled out of her mane and perched itself on her nose. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Tourniquet says the only showers are on the top few floors where the Sleeping Willow dust is everywhere. Queenie managed to pull most of the ladybugs back before the prisoner incapacitation system went off, but that means they can’t see anything up there.” “Can this night get any worse?” I groaned. “Ugh. Alright. Fine. Can I get a set of those rubber socks, Sweets?” Taxi paused in her attempts to get the Beam out of Limerence’s fur just long enough to retrieve four latex socks from her bag. Limerence, meanwhile, nuzzled up against her side like a foal, batting at the air in front of his nose and giggling, dreamily. I tugged on the socks, then high-stepped over to the storage locker, carefully trying not to raise any of the cloud of dust blanketing the carpet. Shifting a four-pound purple dildo out of the way, I covered my muzzle with the edge of my collar and leaned into the closet. Aside the mountains of sex toys and a broken glass bottle that was leaking a steady stream of prismatic powder, the only contents were a sign that said ‘Filtration Suit Instructions’ and one plastic face-mask and oxygen bottle with the word ‘slut’ painted across it in red lipstick. I glanced at the crap on the floor and kicked a heap of plastic clothing. It unrolled into a very strange outfit covered in metal rings, the back of which was sewn shut with black ribbon. “Erm... all these butterflies…” Limerence muttered, then pinched his eyes shut and blinked a few times. “Detective? When did you get here?” He glanced down. “Oh...you found the filtration outfit?” “It... looks like somepony messed with it,” Taxi said, poking at the suit leg with one toe. “This is like the ones we had in the Narcotics department at D.P.D. for handling chemical labs. They gave it some sort of hood made of...oh please let that be vinyl and not leather...”          Geranium rocked back on her heels, laughing so hard she started choking. “It’s a gimp suit! Oh Celestia save me, they turned your precious damn hazmats into gimp suits!”                  ****          I felt better.          I’d had to throw some things, then smash a few of the pews, kick a boiler, and sit in a corner with my head against the wall for a few minutes, but I felt better. The filtration suits were a lost cause. Containment was totally compromised and we could only find one of the face masks in the mess of sex toys. Limerence was trying to chew on Swift’s tail, and was writing what I'm sure he believed was thoughtful flavor analysis on Swift's flank. Taxi was chasing Geranium around the temple with an anatomically improbable black rubber phallus while the other mare screamed for me to do something to stop the beating. My driver was surprisingly spry on three legs and the lawyer’s were short. Her flanks were going to ache in the morning. My exhausted mind processed all of this activity with the cool, collected detachment of the completely screwed. The truth is that there is only so far up a creek a pony can be before they start to find a sort of serene acceptance of the inevitable. Yes, you might be heading for a waterfall, but you’ve got a minute or so to think and compose yourself before it’s here and those moments are precious. It’s a very liberating time.          “Sir! Sir, he’s licking me again!” Swift yelped, shoving our librarian over onto his back, where he abandoned his taste testing to began wheeling his rear legs at the air and barking like a terrier.          “Detective, make her stooop!” Geranium whined as Taxi landed another solid hit on her backside. “Harby, comb hode her dowd!” Taxi shouted around the dildo.          I pushed away from the wall, trotting in a little circle before settling down on my belly. It was lovely on the nice, warm carpeted floor, if one could get past the stink of drying blood or the heavy hand of fate slowly metering out the last few of one’s heartbeats.          ****          Things calmed down a little in the next fifteen minutes, although Limerence was still attempting to hide under Swift’s wings, muttering something about ‘extraordinary fluffies’. Geranium was nursing her sore backside while Taxi tended to Cerise, getting the girl ready to travel. She’d managed to lash together a couple of cultist’s robes with bits of broken wood and scavenged bondage straps into a makeshift stretcher. A length of nylon rope made a functional hitch and yoke.          “So… obviously we can’t just sit here. There’s more than a few ponies upstairs who need medical treatment, not including us, so we need to get out tonight. What is this ‘Plan B’ you keep pussyfooting around?” Taxi asked as she put the finishing touches on the sledge.          “Yeah, and how could it be worse than coming in was?” Swift asked.          As gently as I could, I heaved Cerise onto the stretcher and pulled a bit of cloth back over her, then stepped away and straightened my trenchcoat. “Coming in was dry, kid. Let’s see if we can make it upstairs and have Tourniquet give us some directions. Oh, and grab that face-mask and the oxygen supply from in the storage locker. See if you can clean the Beam off a bit, too. We’ll probably need it.” She nodded, then bopped our librarian on the forehead as he tried to nibble on her ear. “And...could you get a rope or something we can use for a leash? I’d rather not carry Limerence, too.”          ****          I hauled, while Swift kept Cerise on the stretcher. It was agonizing work, but I’m an earth pony and that’s what we’re for. Limerence hadn’t let me near his watch to check what the time was, nor would he check himself; something about ‘dissociating his quantum vibratiums’. Still, we managed good time once we’d made it up the first set of stairs. Geranium leaned on the wall beside me, panting heavily as we stopped in the empty hallway of the secure wing. “Alright, genius. Now what?” she asked. I ignored her and called out, “Tourniquet! You up, honey?” “I’m up, Detective! Ventilation systems are at full power, but it’ll still be about two days before I can completely clear the upstairs halls of Sleeping Willow.” “Good girl. Maybe you can help me with something? I need to know which way to service hatch thirty one double zed?”          “The… high flow hatch? Why do you need that?” she asked, sounding confused.          “It’s the only other way out of this building besides the secret sewer door.”          “A-are you leaving already?”          “Don’t worry, honey! We aren’t leaving you alone and we’ll be sending our own people along, too. You can reach Swift through Queenie anywhere in the city. In the mean time-” I slapped Geranium across the shoulders and she stumbled forward, then glared at me over her shoulder. “-our dear friend, Geranium, is sticking around.to oversee things here. Incidentally, you have my permission to electrocute her if she does anything stupid or traitorous.”          “I’m what?!” the lawyer choked out. “Not a damn chance in this world am I sticking around this place!”          “Did I, at any point, suggest you had any other options? This is presently one of the safest places in Detrot for you. Your friends at the law-firm can’t get in here and the only ponies who can mostly don’t want to kill you. Tourniquet will keep you alive.”          Geranium’s eyes were so wide I was slightly worried she might have injured her optic nerve. “You’re… completely… I… you…”          “You can try running, if you like, but I’d give you about two days before they dispatch an assassin once Skylark fails to report in,” I said, then smiled as a nasty thought crossed my mind and I added, “We’re kipping in the Skids, by the way. You know the Skids? It’s a place where children have to learn martial combat because the grass is magically irradiated and will fight back when you try to eat it.”          Her expression was wavering between fear and apoplexy, but it finally settled on rage. I thought she might swing at me and I readed myself to catch her leg if she did.          “Damn you forever, Hard Boiled. Damn you and your stupid cab driver, and your librarian, and your ridiculous little pegasus,” she snarled, poking me in the chest to emphasize each word. “I know I’m not a good pony, but at least I’m not the kind of pony who gets everypony they love killed on some insane crusade. I hope you find out one day when you’re standing over the body of someone you cared about just how far the consequences of your actions can reach!”          With that, Geranium swung around on her heel and galloped off down the hall on her three good legs, tears spotting the floor behind her as she ran. Where she might be going, I couldn’t say.          “Tourniquet, could you keep an eye on her and maybe lead her to some ice-cream?” I asked, trying to stave off a spark of guilt at how I’d treated Geranium. She’d reminded me of my last girlfriend, up to and including the little speech about crusades and the deaths of close friends.          “Yes, Detective. You’re gonna send me some ponies to take care of things here?” she asked.          “And to keep you company,” I added. “These will be ponies you can trust.”          “Oh that’s... that’s just awesome! Okay, the high flow hatch is down through the double security doors at the end of the next hall.” **** “This...is your ‘Plan B’?!” Taxi gasped as she held both hooves over her nose, trying to breathe through her mouth. “I’m ‘fraid so. You got any better ideas, you just put them in the suggestion box,” I replied, looking down into the hole in the floor. The pipe below was too dark to see, but I did pick up the sound of swiftly moving water. “This runs straight to the bay. According to the blueprints, this will dump us in an open air storage pool which has another pipe at the end. It’s a straight shot from here to the lagoon about thirty meters down flow. Twenty seconds in the drink, then we’re out and home free.” My driver’s curiosity about ‘Plan B’ had lasted until we made our way into Waste Disposal. The smell that boiled out of the depths when I opened the wide hatch in the floor almost sent the three sober ponies in the room running. Limerence was still too stoned to notice, but he did start trying to wipe invisible butterflies off his nose. “You… want me to go in there, Sir?” Swift asked, incredulously. “It smells like...like poop!” I nodded, sagely, adjusting the nylon strap around my neck as I pulled Cerise’s litter up beside me. “It would. It’s the black-water waste line for the northern half of the city.”          “You mean that’s half the city worth of-”                  “Yep.”          “Hardy... we can’t go down there,” Taxi opined. “I mean, I’m hurt. Cerise is going to drown. Limerence is too high to see straight-”          “It’s this or you wait here while I go drive your cab back to civilization for help,” I replied, moving over to pull the oxygen mask from under Swift’s wing. Kneeling beside Cerise, I fitted the mask over her head as tightly as I could, tucking the oxygen bottle in beside her and turning on the flow. As I’d hoped, it was relatively air-tight, even against her fur. “I’ll have Cerise attached to me. You keep hold of Limerence’s leash and fish him out when we’re at the other end before he sinks.”          “Sir… can’t we just… I don’t know. Can we do almost anything else in the whole world?” Swift whimpered.          A soft glow suffused her body and she yelped as she was lifted into the air, drifting across the room like a balloon off its tether.          I blinked up at our librarian, who was laying on his side with his horn glowing weakly. “You’re all… specular… but you should stop mouth-forging... complain-y… audio-isms. Mister… Mister Detective Pulchritudiousness is doing all the optimizable... occurrences… he… of which he is can doing,” Limerence mumbled with a distracted expression on his face, pawing at his vest as though perplexed how it’d gotten on his body.          “P-put me down! Lim! Please!” Swift squeaked, spiraling over onto her back. “Oh… ah… yes… Apologies. Insufferiffic… arcanopointy… object,” he muttered, reaching up and flicking the tip of his horn with his toe. The light vanished. My partner fell. There was a splash and a shriek of what might or might not have been fear that was quickly swept away down the flowing pipe. It sounded awfully angry for fear. “Well… that… decides that then, I guess. Geronimo?”