//------------------------------// // You're Supposed to Doubt Your Friends // Story: Wonderful Mechanical: Keen Eye and the Wonderbolt Saboteur. // by Monocrome_Monogatari //------------------------------// The sound of a door opening broke the tense atmosphere. “Rivet! Thank Celestia you’re here. I was running out of ways to give these weirdos the runaround and I think they’re onto us!” Around the corner came not a small, probably irked, sandy colored stallion but three different ponies, two mares and a stallion. The unicorn mare at the front was, in a word, straightforward. She had a ramrod straight posture that screamed all business, and a body that was composed of hard angles. She had a forward facing glare, piercing through whatever she looks at. Her coat was a straightforward orange, not near enough to red or yellow to be seen as any other hue, and she had a straight line of white going down from her forehead to the tip of her snout. The only thing that didn’t remind me of a level was her yellow mane, curled into a tight bun. Her hips bore the image of a series of ratchet wrenches. The earth pony stallion to her left was a square. No, that isn’t right. Between his long, drooping face, his long solid legs, his more-long-than-tall proportions, and his thick black rimmed glasses, he was more of a rectangle. He sported a patchy dappled coat, moving back and forth from dark and light blues, and was topped by a short white mane falling forward. Betraying his solid stature were his drooping, somewhat tired looking eyes. His cutie mark was a blueprint schematic. Trailing shortly behind the unicorn and the earth pony was a pear shaped Pegasus. I don’t mean just body type, though she fit that too. Her coat was a pear’s green-yellow, and her brown bob cut gave her front profile a pear like shape. The only thing not pear-like were her dew-y wide red eyes. Those were more apple-like. Adorned on her flank was a welding torch. “You’re not Rivet.” I said. The unicorn looked amused at this. “Not the first, nor the last time I’ve heard that working here. What was that about someone being into someone? Are we missing something steamy?” “Oh, I was just trying to set up a gag to fluster Rivet in front of his friends.” The pear-gasus emerged from the cover of her friends with a reproachful expression. “You shouldn’t do things like that. Even the strongest pony’s emotions are fragile.” She then noticed squad zero behind me “Oh hey guys!” she waved enthusiastically. They responded with their own warm greetings in turn, a much warmer reception than I got. “Calm, how’s that sprain been healing up?” She asked. “It’s practically gone!” She seemed to have a motherly tone to her, the kind of person who fussed over anyone’s and everyone’s problems. She’s probably a mare that everyone knows. I scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about Rivet’s feelings. After spending enough time with a mean spirited degenerate like me he’s probably got a thicker armor than any of the wimps here.” “Grr…” She tried to frown harder, but ended up puffing her cheeks from the exertion. The rest of the pegasi in the room wore a much less cute version of the same expression. “Where is he anyway?” the blue stallion asked. “Fleetfoot.” the entire squad answered in unison. “Oh…don’t you guys normally interfere when that happens?” the unicorn said. Shine Struck gestured to me. “We’re kind of foalsitting his friend here.” “Oh? What sort of company does the great genius Rivet keep with him? Crash-test dummies aside.” She spoke with an edge befitting her right angles, her praises wrapped in barbed wire. “Hey!” Shine bristled. Calm Wind scratched the back of his head. “Well, in a work context we kind of are…” “I’m nothing special, just a painter.” “Just a painter?” She asked. Swift took on a conspiratorial grin and slung his hoof over my shoulder. “Yep, JUST a painter” Playblitz followed suite with his own smirk “Nothing but a painter.” Amateurs! When it comes to blackmail and verbal needling, these guys are complete amateurs! “So, Mr. Painter—“ “Call me Keen Eye.” I could see her grit her teeth at being interrupted. “And what might I call you ladies?” “Ahem” Blue finally piped up. “And what might I call you lovely ladies?” Blue sighed and sadly brushed his hoof against the ground. He seems to be a pony that will stand up if he sees something wrong, but will easily buckle under pressure. Kind of sad. Pear spent a moment giving him a reassuring brush of her wing before she jumped and used him as a podium. To Blue’s credit, his back didn’t budge an inch. “This workaholic here is Ratchet Wrench,” she pointed to the unicorn, “I’m Piece Maker, and this sturdy stallion beneath me is Blue Print.” It only took a moment of silence before chuckles began to crackle across the room, including my own. The only people unaffected were Blue, whose face finally had blushing red contrast, and Piece herself, as her practiced beaming smile dimmed into one of confusion. “Huh? What are you all laughing about?” It was Ratchet’s words that broke through the wall of giggles. “Piece you—hihihihi – Piece you might want to think about what you said.” “What I said?...Ohhhhhhhh” Her voice dipped with her posture as embarrassment caught up to her, and she took this as her cue to hop off the stage Blueprint. “Sorry if I embarrassed you…” Her head hung low as the message meant for Blueprint was spoken to the floor. He in turn responded with a quick, chaste nuzzle. “Don’t mind too much. It’s more embarrassing I got flustered over something so silly.” “I’ll say.” I said, smothering Piece’s reassuring response and the budding romantic atmosphere. After the awkward pause, Ratchet took helm of the conversation again. “So now that we’re back on track, why are you here, Mr. Keen Eye? You’d think Rivet has enough moral support after his oh-so-devastating two week probation.” She rolled her eyes. “Probation? Is that what’s happening here?” “He didn’t tell you?” An eyebrow rose as her eyelids squinted toward me. “He just said something about his job being in danger. I didn’t exactly get to ask more between my summons just being a panicked ‘Come here ASAP', being tackled by security, being sent to Spitfire’s oven, and being split up by hurricane Fleetfoot,” Half the ponies in the room gave me a glare that screamed “You were the cause of that last one, you idiot!” She seemed amused at that. “Jeez, he basically gets a vacation and he thinks it’s the end of the world. The minds of geniuses really are as messed up as this room, aren’t they? “They sure are.” I nod. “So, while we’re here, want me to put you in the loop?” “Not sure it’s your tale to tell, Ratchet” Blueprint scolded. “Please, you say that like its Rivet’s alone.” “Well, it kind of is…” Piece pleaded. “Says who?” Their eyes widened a bit at my interruption. “How exactly do you tell who has the right to tell a story?” “Well…I guess the person who it happened to should be the one who tells the story” Piece maker pondered. “Why, Piece Maker! I didn’t know you thought so lowly of historians!” “Huh?” “They have the gall to tell stories about things that happened hundreds of years ago, when the ponies it happened to are no longer on this mortal plane! Who else is on your hit list? Journalists? Biographers? Is any and every second hand source a mere gossiper?” “That’s not what I meant! Besides, those ponies' jobs are to tell the story right…” “And how exactly do you tell a story right? How can you tell if the details are correct without being there yourself? Evidence can be misread, and testimony can be mistold. How can you tell something right if you can’t be sure what ‘right’ is? For example" I picked up a small crowbar from a nearby desk. "Say that Rivet saw me in the middle of a busy street, and used this to bash my brains in." "...This is the same Rivet we're talking about here right? Why would he do that? Why would he want to do that?" Piece said. "Trust me, he has plenty of reason to. Anyways, if you were to ask anypony in the street, their response would be the same: 'Rivet finally enacted justice on Keen Eye by bashing his brains in with a crowbar.'" "...You have problems, don't you?" Shine said. "Several!" I chuckled "Anywho, imagine that same scenario, but instead of Rivet, it's a changeling in Rivet's form, enacting his will..." "It sounds like a pretty bad strategy for a changeling to go about whacking ponies at random too..." Swift said. "...Or imagine that I was the changeling, or imagine that both of us were changelings,-- "This scenario is getting harder and harder to follow..." Calm said. "...or imagine that a nearby unicorn was using dark magic to control his mind? In all these scenarios, the stories of the onlookers would be the same: 'Rivet killed Keen Eye.' All of their testimonies would be spoken entirely truthfully, and all the evidence would be pointing to them being correct, but they could still be wrong. And that's not even counting the possibility of lies! You can never be 100% certain of any story, whether you saw it yourself or heard it secondhand. So how can you tell who has the right to tell somepony's story?” Scenarios like that are actually why there's debate on whether the new rule in mystery stories should be "no changeling characters allowed" or "no changeling characters unless they're foreshadowed or revealed early... This time it was Blueprint who took the lead, Piece looking a bit nervous at my questioning. “You tell it like the ponies involved would want you to tell it.” “You do realize that King Sombra had a way he wanted his story to be told, right? One of an Ubermensch leading the ungrateful underclass into a utopia or something like that?” … The last line seemed to knock everyone off balance. "Are you seriously comparing Rivet to Sombra?” Shine asked, caught between angry and agape. “Well they’re equally tyrannical in their domains, aren’t they?” Thwack! “Owww…” I didn’t see who hit me, but everyone seemed pleased with the bop on the head I got, silently praising the hero Rivet’s Lab needs but doesn’t deserve. “You guys really are too trusting. Everypony has some evil in them. Even me, even the princesses, even Rivet. Anypony can become a monster, maybe even the next Sombra, and denying this is denying a crucial part of your se—“ TWACK! “Ow!” Who’s doing that?! “Not funny.” Calm admonished me. “Yeah, you’re going too far.” Even Ratchet was brow-beating me! Alongside the regular beating I was getting! “You’re all missing the point! I’m saying that you can’t trust only one story, no matter who it’s from, be it your best friend or your worst enemy.” And especially if they’re the same pony… “Ponies lie to others to look better or defend themselves, ponies lie to themselves to feel better or defend others, ponies mis-remember and mis-interpret. Any story, be it from your best friend, a historian, or a god, is just that, a story. A single pony can’t know the truth, it takes two or more comparing to see it, and even then your prospects are shaky” “That’s a really depressing outlook. Aren’t you supposed to trust your friends?” Piecemaker asked. “Absolutely not.” “…what?” “If you love someone, you should make an effort to really know them. That includes questioning and doubting them, accepting the possibility of lies and dark sides. If you’re unwilling to accept the possibility of your friend being awful, you don’t love that pony, you only love the idea of that pony. You can trust someone without thinking. You can follow someone without thinking. All it requires nodding your head. It takes real thought to doubt. ‘You should trust your friends?’ Bah! I respect Rivet too much to trust him. I need to hear the story from someone who hates him.” “…Love?” Crap “I was speaking figuratively! Platonically!” “Suuuure you were.” Ratchet quipped. Everyone laughed as heat rushed to my face, and I reflexively pulled my scarf up around my cheeks. At least I wasn’t alone in this. Piece Maker was wearing a blush of her own too. “Trust me on this, there’s no way I could have a thing for him. He’s nowhere near my type. I prefer more forceful and forward ponies.” “What? Trust? Aren’t we supposed to doubt our friends?” Calm snickered. “You say that like we became the best of friends within the hour we’ve known each other.” “Our oh-so-painterly conversation from before suggests we kind of did.” Playblitz said. “You paint, Playblitz?” Piece asked, excited. “Let’s just say this guy perked my interest.” “Ohhhh tell me when you get started! I want to see what you make!” “Graaahhhh!” I rubbed my temples, trying to wipe away the memory of where this conversation went wrong. “Ihihihi. Compared to Rivet’s other friends, you’re a riot. Well Piece, Blue, after such a rousing speech, I doubt either of you will have any objections to telling Rivet’s tale for him?” She huffed and looked away, but the corners of a smile were still there. “Fine…” Blue looked unsure. “If Piece says so…” She turned her eyes to me “Of course, your little speech, rousing as it was, got something wrong.” “And that is?” “You’re a bit too presumptuous. I certainly don’t like Rivet, but I don’t hate him. It’s not worth the effort to do something like that.” Ah, I get it. Eventually genius or power takes you to the point where, in the eyes of the world, you stop being a pony. You become a force of nature. And who in their right mind would sincerely hate a force of nature? Who is petty enough to sincerely hate bad luck? Or the ocean? “Noted.” I took a seat. “So…what exactly has been going on here?” “Well, to make a long story short, the impossible happened.” “That’s never a good sign. Did Discord fly through here?” “Yes, actually. How did you know? Of course, no one’s seen him here for a while so I’m pretty sure he isn’t involved… Hey are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “I’m fine.” I choke out, desperately trying to force color back into my face. Note to self, get the job done and get the hell out ASAP. “Continue.” “The impossible thing was, namely, that Rivet started to make mistakes.” “Doesn’t everypony make mistakes?” “That’s just a weak excuse ponies make to justify their mistakes. No one says it when everything is going fine. Everypony gets sick, but that doesn't make a stay in the ER any less harrowing. Everypony dies eventually, and you don’t see anyone trying to say that you should take death lightly.” “I don’t think we’ve heard of god’s dying, have we…?” Piece Maker quietly wondered. “God’s aren’t ponies. Don’t think of them as ponies.” I said. “But isn’t that cruel? They have feelings too you know, Isn’t that enough to make you a pony?” “Ponies are ponies, gods are gods. Or rather, a pony is not-godly, and a god is therefore not a pony. Ratchet, continue.” Besides, feelings aren’t the sole deciding factor of personhood. Beyond any objections of simple animals like dogs and cats possibly having feelings… There are such things as ponies who do what they wish without feeling anything. “…Right. Anyways, even if ‘Everypony makes mistakes’ was a legitimate excuse, most ponies mistakes don’t almost injure people, and definitely don’t almost kill people.” “Let her finish!” I say, cutting off what was about to be an angry objection from either the squad behind me or Piece and Blue. “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed but things have been getting really hectic in the compound. For some reason, Captain Spitfire has been making everyone train double time, and the engineering teams are being strained to keep up, constantly repairing, upgrading, and flat out inventing new training machines, though, once again, Rivet has been carrying pretty much all the last burden." She turned to Blueprint "Isn’t that right, Blueprint?” He huffed and looked away “Don’t bring me into this.” “Suit yourself." Ratchet turned back to me. "Anyways, over the last two weeks, malfunctions have been occurring with the recruits training equipment." "During an obstacle course where each squad was tested on flight formation, a piston locked up last second, and Squad Foxtrot missed a devastating crash by inches. A glorified dodge-ball exercise between Squad Charlie and Squad Foxtrot was sidelined when the timer on a mechanical ball launcher broke, and it moved from one ball a minute to one ball a second. In another exercise, the dizzy-tron spinner launches a flier and their teammates have to catch them by creating a small tornado, funneling them into a safety net. The machine released too early, sending a member of Squad Charlie in the wrong direction, away from the nets. Poor Velocity Vector completely locked up, and would have died were it not for Runner Up. After that last incident, it was decided the stress was getting to Rivet, and he needed to take a break. When he refused, Captain Spitfire pulled rank and revoked his punch-card for a week. Now he’s been going on nonstop about sabotage. It’s kind of pathetic…” She concluded. “And how do you know these events were Rivet’s fault? Don’t you have groups of ponies working on these machines?” I asked. “Rivet was meticulous. During setup, after everyone took off, he would stay back and run a final diagnostic on the machines. He’s the one who took responsibility for making sure everything was in working order. Even if he didn’t cause it, he’s guilty for letting it happen.” “You wish!” Swift Justice was bristling “Someone must have tampered with the machines after he checked it!” "Keep telling yourself that~.” “That’s enough for now." I cut off the argument before it could grow. "So what are you three doing in Rivet’s Lab?” “You mean Workroom 3.” “For Luna’s sake, you’re still hung up on that?” Blue spat. “Hung up on what? I’m just saying that workroom 3 is workroom 3.” She shrugged. “I assume there’s something I’m missing here.” I said. Blue answered. “There’s always several jobs to be done around here, so we got multiple workrooms. They’re normally first-come first-served. You gotta reserve one in advance if you’re working on something long term. When Rivet became the head engineer, he got permanent reserve over workroom 3, a fact that SOME PONIES are still sore about to this day.” He glared at Ratchet. “Is it wrong to feel that way? Everyone needs space to work, you know.” I looked around at the mass of work around me “I’m not going to say you’re unjustified but, it kind of looks like Rivet only barely has enough room here.” “Well he is a genius.” Ratchet smiled. "As you keep repeating to me. If I didn't know any better it sounds like a crush." She looked at me a bit lopsidedly before bluntly stating "You have exceptionally bad taste in matchmaking." "Whatever" I rolled my eyes. “You still haven’t answered me why you’re here.” “Oh! That’s easy. We just need to borrow some screwdrivers from Rivet” Ratchet moved to a glass case with identical screwdrivers lined together and suspended on holders. “Every workroom has one of these, but someone else borrowed some of ours.” She pulled a punch card out from her hair bun, and placed it in a slot next to the case. It quietly dinged, and the glass slid open. “It’s not a huge deal, we have to return these to their slots by the day’s end or we get fined, so we’ll get ours back.” “What’s so special about those screwdrivers that they’re in a locked glass case?” “Well it— SLAM! “…looks like something Rivet will explain to you. C’mon guys, let’s go.” Ratched jumped over the parts cluttered about and turned the corner. “It was fun meeting you, Mr. Eye!” Piece waved. “Sorry bout Ratchet.” Blue said “She’s normally much more cordial, till the subject of Rivet comes up…”, He left with a terse nod. As the trio rounded the corner to make their exit, in came a ball of ruffled fur, and frustration. When he opened his mouth, he spoke with such a cold intensity that the room temperature dropped 10 degrees. “Everypony but Keen, out.”