If you work as a detective for any length of time, you’ll eventually wind up running down a lead in hostile turf. The key is always confidence. Step high, make like you’re in the middle of important business, and for the love of Celestia, don’t stare at everything like a tourist right off the train. I’d been in worse situations. I’d certainly never had a cover quite so accommodating.
“Oh! Mr. Rising Star!” the girl at the desk in front chirped as I blew in.
I nudged the specs down a shade, laying it on thick. “What d’ya got for me, babe?”
“Oh, uh!” She blushed a fetching pink and twiddled her hooves. “You’re in a little early. I don’t have the papers you wanted me to pull yet.”
In early, indeed. It was mid-afternoon, but I knew Star’s habits. Would have been too risky to sport his face if I thought he’d already be hanging around.
“Having trouble with it?” I asked, impatiently glancing ahead.
“N-no. It’s just that no one’s needed anything that far back in the archives in a while, even if there’s not a whole lot that mentions Princess Celestia directly…”
That turned my head. “Celestia?”
She blinked. “Yes. You did say everything we have related to her, right? I didn’t screw that up, did I?”
“No,” I said. “Everything. Good.”
I figured I had a handle on Star’s modus operandi. He was a pawn, but even a pawn could occasionally take a bishop. Or whatever the hell Blueblood was.
But Celestia? He wouldn’t. Not even he could be that stupid.
I shook my head hard to clear it, but another face popped up, unbidden.
“Hey, do you know what cell belongs to that PHAIR broad we pulled in the other day?”
Making the play to get Paisley out would be tricky, but… even Tangled Weave aside, I owed her that much. With Rising Star’s authority, it might not be too difficult. I could claim to need her for questioning, sneak her out the back way, we’d be gone before—
“Oh. She was transferred to the palace early this morning.”
“What?” I said, and seeing the secretary flinch, I realized I had put more bang into it than needed. “That’s…” I took a moment to think, and forced a joke in my voice. “That’s not standard procedure.”
She smiled very tentatively. “B-but you said just yesterday… Um. ‘We don’t have enough room in the basement cells for all the changelings in Canterlot.’ We’re supposed to send them to the palace for expedited punishment.”
“Expedited.” I couldn’t hide the wince. “Right. I forgot. Big night out celebrating last night, you know what I mean? Ha ha.”
She giggled with relief. “You know I always tell you to take it easy.”
I took a step away, when her voice rang out again.
“Oh! And I almost forgot. You’ve got a visitor. I just sent him ahead to your new office.”
I shook my head, turning back with my mouth in a wry twist. “Thanks babe.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes wide and dewy.
“Yeah. I just get the feeling it’s gonna be a long day.”
They worked fast – the name in the frosted glass had already been changed to Rising Star. I stood outside the office for a long moment, considering the text. My lips pulled back from my teeth for the benefit of the pencil pushers sitting around watching me. It took deliberate effort not to spit.
I pushed the door open and trotted right in. A lot had changed in a day. Not the furniture, no. All the outlines were the same, from the scarred markerboard on the wall to that sickly yellow fern in the corner that had learned to subsist more on cigarette ash than water. But without the chief, it felt different. And clean - I don’t think I had ever seen the surface of that desk before, and there it was with nothing more than an empty in/out tray and a beat-up intercom console.
Notably, though, the digs didn’t normally come with a blue unicorn behind the desk.
“I think you’re in my seat,” I said.
The unicorn sniffed. “Mister Rising Star,” he said, hitting each syllable like a confused woodpecker going at an iron lamppost.
“Yeah, that’s what it says on the door. And why I say it’s my seat.”
“Your humor is a delight as always,” he said, even as the frost in his voice put the lie to it. “We need to talk.”
“We are talking.”
He ignored the jab. “There is concern about your recent performances.”
“Concern so pressing that I got a promotion? I could use more of that kind of concern.”
“I think you are very aware of how that change in position came about.”
“Of course.” I flashed a grin. “But it’s not my fault I look so good.”
The unicorn’s eyes slid shut. He took a deep breath, and then planted both forehooves on the desk, leaning forward. “Mister Rising Star, I grow weary of this discussion. Our employers are concerned. This is a problem. For you.”
That got through. Employers? I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the desk jockeys in Royal Administration that the department technically reported to. I used my magic to lift the shades off my face, setting them on the desk.
“So we need to talk,” I said, the smartass in my tone gone.
The unicorn leaned back in the chair. “Yes.”
I knew Star had to be small change, working for someone else. And the buck didn’t stop with the pony across the desk from me – nopony behind something this big would show their cards that easy. But one rung higher in the ladder was one rung closer to the top. I had a lead.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, my horn starting to glow, “I’d prefer to make sure we don’t have any other ears in this conversation.”
“By all means.”
I ran through the motions of throwing up an old soundproofing spell across the office. I even checked for bugs, and was unsurprised to feel the presence of a listening crystal somewhere in the vicinity of the desk. If I had to guess, that belonged to Star himself. I wrapped it in a bubble of its own, and then got down to my real purpose.
The good thing about a big room-wide charm is that it’s enough cover to hide a lot of smaller magic. Say, something like a ring of tracking magic, to be later switched on for my convenience.
I almost dropped the spell entirely when I realized the pony I was trying to plant a tracker on already wore one. With my signature, no less.
I smoothed my face over, and he didn’t seem to have caught the look of surprise that had wrinkled it. A spell like that fades on its own in about a week, by design. And I hadn’t exactly been shooting them left or right. The only pony I had tagged in the better part of a month was Weedy, earlier that day. Weedy, who had been working with Raven.
Nothing to do with changelings, she said. Pull the other one, it’s got holes in.
“Alright,” I said. “What exactly is the problem?”
“You were put into this position with the understanding that you could follow instructions. Your instructions did not include the arrest of the leader of PHAIR.”
“What did that have to do with me?”
“Do not take me for a fool, Mister Rising Star. We have sufficient evidence that you were working in conjunction with an outside group.”
So Star himself had been PHAIR’s contact. I couldn’t help but feel they deserved his knife in their back.
“So what if I take some action on the side? We’re still in this together.”
“We need a pony who can do as he is told. You are far from irreplaceable.”
I was quiet for a long moment, trying to read the situation. The unicorn was a blank slate, but even if he had been emoting like opening night on an off-Bridleway production I wouldn’t have been able to trust any of it. Changelings were always good at faking.
“If you wanted to replace me, you would have already done so,” I said. “But it would look bad. Fishy. Instead you’re here with a warning.”
He didn’t move, didn’t reveal anything.
I met his gaze steadily. “Fine, consider the message received.”
His hooves met as he leaned forward across the desk, peering over them. “Very good. You are… uncharacteristically cooperative today.”
“Maybe you just caught me in a good mood.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, but the song didn’t carry any note of curiosity. “I recommend you endeavour to remain in that frame of mind. A pony who cannot follow orders is of little use.”
“Then what are my orders?”
“Nothing specific for now.” He stood, drawing himself up to his full height. “Get your house in order, Mister Rising Star. I know you can feel the winds of change. The storm is not far behind.”
He was leaving. I hadn’t been found out, but I had little to show for it. I grasped at a straw. “Just what does that make you in this metaphor?”
“Storms do not arise on their own. Somepegasus has to shape and direct them.” A smile flittered across his lips, hiding something beneath its facade. “Just remember. Royalty are rarely patient with the ponies who fail them. I would hesitate to push your luck a second time.”
And I had little patience for bug queens with delusions of grandeur. I kept that thought to myself, remaining quiet and trying to look contemplative as the disguised changeling left.
He had given me plenty of information but no proof. I glanced around the small office. Here was hoping the real Rising Star had some tricks hidden up his sleeve.
Fifteen minutes of searching later had left me with nothing other than a splitting headache. Star had his stuff moved in, cabinets already full with paperwork from cases old and new, but it was all just the standard squawking: incident reports, old warrant authorizations, the works.
I moved methodically, checking each in turn and then wasting no time in bouncing to the next. I was despairing of finding anything when I tried the very last drawer in the desk, the bottom one where the Chief used to keep a fifth of scotch for the bad days.
It was locked.
More than that, it was magically reinforced. I could feel the edges of some kind of spell tucked behind the metal keyhole. There was no telling what it would do. An alarm would spoil my exit but be manageable. Some kind of offensive retaliation I could shield up and shrug off. But if it was a particularly nasty trick, say burning everything kept in the drawer to a crisp? That sounded just like Star’s style, and I couldn’t risk the loss of a prime lead.
I was weighing the merits, considering the risk of forcing it when the decision got taken out of my hooves. I heard the handle of the door turn.
I was up and out from behind the desk in a flash. I could see the silhouette through the frosted glass, and the faint muffled voice shouting jibes at some unseen pony confirmed it.
Star was here. The real Rising Star.
It was only luck on my part that he hadn’t come in directly – some lackey had distracted him with his hoof on the door. That was all the luck I was going to get. I had no place to hide in the small office, no other exit except the door he was blocking.
I took a deep breath. Green flames.
He walked into the doorway, chuckling to himself, but the noise died in his throat as he saw me. He was wearing his shades again, and I couldn’t see his eyes, only a brief clenching of his jaw before it relaxed into a familiar smirk.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he said.
“Mister Rising Star,” I replied, doing my best to mimic the enunciation of the changeling who had been waiting for me half an hour prior.
We slowly circled the desk, keeping our eyes on one another. He sat down in his chair, still watching me.
I had ceded the high ground, taken a position of weakness in not claiming the desk for myself. But now he was no longer between me and the door if things went sour.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“You’re right, Tides,” he said lightly. “We never have the chance to chat. It’s always business, business, business.”
“That is unfortunately what we need to talk regarding.”
“Oh, and here I was, looking forward to finally getting to know the real you.” He sighed breathily for dramatic emphasis.
I needed a plan. It was dangerous to push him – I’d be walking blind through a minefield. But this was my only chance. “You were put into this position with the understanding that you could follow orders,” I said.
“And that’s what I’m doing.”
“Who ordered you to arrest the head of PHAIR?”
He paused for a moment, but the smile didn’t leave his muzzle. “I was doing you a favor. It aligns with your goals.”
An opening. “Care to explain?” I asked, keeping the question so dry as to be a statement.
“Ponies like PHAIR. Or at least tolerate them, for the good they do. Something big profile like this makes them look like the victim. It makes things messy.”
“Mmm,” I murmured. I had to run his words through my mind twice to catch his meaning. Was that their goal? His excuse wasn’t even to help hide the operation or improve their credibility. It was just about causing chaos.
“I’m not blind,” he said. “Time’s drawing short.”
“That it is,” I said. “But we need ponies who can follow orders. It seems you consider yourself far less replaceable than you actually are.”
His expression froze and I thought I had scored a hit. But then he broke out into laughter.
“Ha! You kill me, you know? Me, replaceable? I’m one-of-a-kind!”
“Then it is another kind of pony that we need,” I said, voice steady. I let the words bring their own menace, and he picked up on the implications just fine.
His smile grew hard, showed a few more teeth. “I think you will find getting rid of me to cause more problems than it solves.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s an observation.” He leaned back in his chair, hoof reaching down and to the right. I heard the click of a drawer opening and felt my pulse quicken.
A folder slid across the surface of the desk. Thin, but full. Thirty, forty pages? My eyes moved back up to meet Star’s. I didn’t grab for the folder. Not yet.
“Go ahead, take a look, but I think you’ve seen it all before,” he said. “Every one of your orders, detailed, logged conversations, the original agreements in writing for my services. Even a little bit of extra-credit I dug up on my own. All there. Wouldn’t it be a shame if that were to fall into the hooves of some up-and-coming journalist?”
“You’d go down too,” I said.
“As the leaker? I’d be a hero, working undercover the whole time to save Equestria. No one cares about the little details. This is what they call a win-win for me, bro.”
This was what I needed. Everything on a silver platter. I just had to get it away from him somehow.
My voice dropped to a low whisper. “But what if you were to… disappear?”
He shook his head. “Do you think I was born yesterday? This isn’t my only copy of the evidence. I’ve got plenty of plans in place. If I vanish off the face of Equestria, everything arrives on the doorstep of the Canterlot Post-Gazette tomorrow.”
“You think that can protect you?” I said. “Queens are rarely impressed by idle threats, Mister Rising Star.”
I only caught a flash of something, a twitch of an eyebrow, a momentary blankness on his face that interrupted the constant smirk.
“That may be true,” he said, the words coming out a little slower than previous. “But I think I like my chances.”
I leaned forward, my hoof reaching for the folder when it lit up in a field of magic and slid an inch backwards.
Star leaned forward, depressing a button on the intercom console on the desk. “Yes sir?” a voice crackled over the static.
“Peachy, babe, can you ask Starry Sky and Rabbit Hutch to stop by the office?”
“Sure thing!” she replied
Star looked up at me, eyes still hidden behind his shades. “Why are you in such a hurry, Tides? I hate all of this cloak and dagger bullshit. Let’s talk, you and me! Tell me, how’s the wife?”
My shoulders tensed. My headache was getting worse but I could feel something shift in the conversation, a chasm opening underhoof. I hesitated only for a moment, and then covered for it with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not married.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He grinned. “How could I have forgotten?”
“I don’t have time for games,” I said.
“You kidding? We have all the time in the world. C’mon, humor an old friend?”
What was he trying? To trip me up? It was transparent. “We are hardly that.”
“How cruel! But we’ve worked so well together for so long. Don’t you remember the old days? Instead every time I try to connect, it’s ‘Mister Rising Star’ this and ‘we are disappointed’ that.” His head inclined slightly. “You don’t see me going around calling you Mister Low Tides. And do you know why?”
My eyes narrowed. “Because we are business associates. Not old friends. I tire of this.”
His smile grew, the cat who had gotten the cream.
“Nah. Because that’s not your name. Or should I say his name?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, but it had no bite. I felt the jaws of the trap closing around me.
“Which raises the question.” He leaned forward across the desk, and his shades slipped down his muzzle slightly. I saw the piercing eyes looking over them and couldn’t look away. “Just who are you?”
We faced off in silence for a moment that didn’t seem like it’d end. Until a knock sounded on the door behind me, seemingly in sync with the pounding coursing through my head.
Star leaned back, throwing his hooves behind his head.
“So this is how it’s gonna be?” I said.
He grinned, that feline malice doubled with a captive mouse to play with. “Yup.”
“Then allow me.”
Sometimes the cornered rat bites back.
As I turned to the door, I focused and the green flames flickered as I shifted back into my previous disguise as Star himself. I opened the door and nodded to the two burly detectives outside. “Sup. Looks like we’ve got a changeling impersonating me.” My head jerked to indicate the real Rising Star sitting behind the desk. “Get ‘em, boys.”
They shared a single glance and moved forward, making for the desk. Hardly a moment had passed before Star started shouting denials, but it was his mistake in calling in backup better at following orders than creative thinking.
With a flare of magic, the folder on the desk slid forward and through the air into the firm grip of my teeth. I didn’t stick around to see the fallout, assuming I had bought myself half a minute lead, tops.
Heads were already popping up as I passed through the office. “Changeling!” I grunted around the file in my jaw, not even slowing down as I made for the stairwell. “All available officers to my office to contain it.” They turned away from me and towards the yelling, and I hoped the pileup would buy me even more time.
No one was watching as I slipped into front stairwell and shifted again, settling on a nondescript unicorn stallion with a pair of hoofcuffs for a cutie mark. The stairs were empty, and I started on my way down, getting to the next landing before hesitating.
I didn’t have much time, but I had to check. See it for myself. Make sure it wasn’t one more false lead. The folder lit up in my magic and floated in front of me. I cracked it open and didn’t need more than the first page to convince me it was real.
It just wasn’t what I had expected.
I’d worked with classified information before. Wasn’t even particularly uncommon in the line of duty for a security officer. But this was the first time I had seen something labeled top of top-secret. Sealed by order of H.R.H. Princess Luna, right there in print. Marked with her hoofprint.
Paisley had said from the beginning that this went to the very top. I always hated it when she was right.