//------------------------------// // 13 - Honestly, Honesty Is Honestly The Best Policy! // Story: Poniocracy // by sunnypack //------------------------------// Chapter 13: Honestly, Honesty Is Honestly The Best Policy! In ancient Equestrian folklore, there is a tale that speaks of a capricious deity that grants wishes. It is said that the wishes would be granted, but not in the way the wisher would expect. A good example was a young pegasus named Oatley. Oatley was struggling through the desert when he came across a small foal lying nonchalantly on a rock, heedless of the heat.  Curious, Oatley asked, “Would you happen to know where some water would be found?” “Is that your wish?” the young colt asked him in return. “Wish?” “Yes, wish. I grant wishes. Do you wish to have a wish granted?” “Well I'd like a wish if that is what you're offering.” He licked his lips. “I wish I had some water.” Subsequently, Oatley found himself suspended over the ocean and then dumped into its unforgiving currents. Luckily for him, he was picked up by a passing pirate ship, and he worked as part of the rowing crew for the next ten years. Sometimes, he would swear that he heard the laughter of a small colt. Moral of the story is, foals can be little monsters. But they’re adorable. ––––– Though the door had undoubtedly unlocked, there was still a small panel on the side which seemed to trigger the door controls. “There’s a few buttons here,” David remarked. Twilight sidled over. “Okay let’s see. ‘Lock’, no we don’t want that. ‘Equalise’? What does that mean? Ah here, ‘Open’.” “Are you sure? Maybe we should check out what the other buttons do.” “I'm fairly sure ‘Open’ means ‘Open’, David.” “Hmmph.” Twilight slammed her hoof on the ‘Open’ button. At once, the door groaned and began to move. There was a hissing sound as the pneumatic pistons worked hard to move the sluggish mass of metal. David took a couple of steps to the side as the door grated a couple of times, then stopped. Something is wrong with the door, he thought to himself. Twilight grumbled and trotted over to the panel. She glanced curiously at the human but stayed in front of the door. “What are you doing over there?” “Just taking precautions.” “Nothing is going to happen; it’s just a door.” David grunted but otherwise stayed quiet. Twilight shrugged, then pressed the ‘Open’ button again. The pneumatical pistons heaved once more and the door cracked open. Then all hell broke loose. With a whine, a whistle and then a roar, the vacuum on the other side of the door violently sought to correct the air pressure, sucking greedily at the air on the other side. With a muffled exclamation, Twilight flew from her position near the controls and became plastered in the small, but widening gap of the door. “David!” she yelled desperately. David was busy trying to cling onto the grooves in the wall. The wind was significantly decreased as Twilight blocked the gap, but the door was moving ever so slowly, working to make circumstances more and more perilous by the second. “Hold on,” he grunted, pushing off the stone. He almost stumbled on his haphazard walk to door, and he whacked his head on the frame. The impact sent flashes across his eyes, and he blinked them away furiously. “Right,” he growled, smashing a button on the panel blindly. He hoped it was the right one. David could still see Twilight slipping through the still-widening gap. “I don’t think you pressed the right one,” she squeaked and then fell through. “No!” David yelled, flinging out a hand to grab her. He missed by the tips of his fingers. “Damn it!” he cursed, his voice loud in the dying wind. Wait. Dying wind? David gingerly stepped around the frame. There was no longer any rushing wind. He peered through the door. A few feet away lay Twilight, dazed and confused but certainly not lost to the void, or the abyss, or anything like that. “Oh hi,” she greeted meekly. David didn’t say anything, just holding a hand to his chest. He sagged next to her taking deep breaths and trying to calm his wildly beating heart. “Don’t do that,” he wheezed. “Sorry,” Twilight muttered and he nodded absently. “Woo it’s kind of dark in here, where’s the light?” As if in response, a sudden buzzing noise issued from the ceiling. David got to his feet and stood out in the open watching the lights flicker on after thousands of years of disuse. Frankly, he was impressed by the ability of the lights overhead to turn on after all this time. He wondered briefly if there was anything in the facility that did the maintenance. The light illuminated row after row of gently gleaming metal. The clop of hooves behind him distracted him from his thoughts. “I don’t believe it. This. Is…” “The mother load.” The statement seemed to lend itself weight as his voice carried into the far expanse of the open space. ––––– Twilight trotted ahead, and David had to jerk himself into motion to keep up. The dim reflections of the metal surrounding them gave the chamber an ethereal glow. Silvery metal ringed them on all sides. “There’s an alien kind of beauty to these…” David reached out to touch one of the hulls. The moment he touched it, a polite cough resounded from behind him. His hand jerked away from the plating. He whipped around. “Bloody hell!” he swore, uncharacteristically Australian-like. The hologram rolled his eyes. “Colonials,” he sniffed. “Can’t breed the manners into them.” Twilight approached the hologram from the side, her hoof reaching out and passing right through the shimmering projection. She gasped and sat back. The hologram looked offended. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” He focused on David. “Keep your pet under control.” It took David a while to register that the hologram was speaking in a British accent. “I’m not a pet!” Twilight exclaimed, her cheeks flaming a deep crimson. She pointed a hoof at David. “If anything, he’s the trained monkey.” The hologram sniffed disdainfully at Twilight. David chuckled at her flustered reaction. “Oh hold your horses,” the hologram shot sarcastically, then he cocked his head to a muffled sound that David couldn’t quite make out. “Hmm, the Commandant would like to speak with you.” “You don’t look happy about it,” David remarked. “It’s a bliddy dreary job it is here, over ten thousand years and then we get a response. Pretty flippin’ typical of you colonists.” He straightened his tie and marched off, the hologram cutting off briefly before reappearing. David blinked at the ridiculously large moustache that bobbed hypnotically as the ‘Commandant’ pursed his lips and cleared his throat. “Good morning, afternoon or evening, whatever it is on planetside, eh?” David relaxed, it seemed like this man was a bit more cheerful. “We’re underground and I’ve just woken up. I must say it’s good to talk to a human again,” David said conversationally, then paused. “Though I don’t know why you’re all British given that this is in America…” The Commandant blinked and then smiled.“Ah, we’re all British here,” he said. “Everyone’s British. We came late to the party you see, and, apparently, the Americans all buggered off somewhere else! Thank heavens we didn’t have to deal with that lot, they were always so serious and ill-mannered. Didn’t know about tea-time, fancy that!” He clicked his fingers as if remembering something. “Oh yes, smashing news, most of the higher ups are breaking open the ol’ bottle of champagne and making a huge heave ho about Earth being habitable again. Exciting I’d say, simply exciting!” David leaned in, intrigued. “How so? What’s the big celebration?” “Well we rather thought the human race was extinct on old planet Earth. Good to see it’s in order, what with the orbital change, the knockout and all that. Give it enough time and it’ll fix itself! We’ve made a right mess of the planet back here… again. So it’s nice to finally come home wouldn’t you say?” “Home? You’re coming back?” “Absolutely my dear sir! As I’ve said the planet has been blimey’d to bollocks! I tell you, it’s been cock up after cock up. Good thing you called in, we can finally head back home!” David glanced uneasily at Twilight as distant cheering sounded off in the background. “Ah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. There are other creatures living here now…” David trailed off, as Twilight shook her head and broke away. The Commandant spotted Twilight and simply winked at David. “Ah well, horses for courses, I’d say,” The Commandant chuckled, miming an elbow nudge. “Well, well, enough dilly dallying, we’ve got a homecoming to get to and I must be off! Cheerio, good sir.” David snapped in action. “Hey wait—” he cried, stumbling forward. But the hologram flickered out and David was left standing alone in the room. His mind scrambled as he tried to think of a one-liner that would fit this situation perfectly. He decided he would go with the classics. “Bugger.”