“Are you completely sure that all of this is quite necessary?” asked the white one.
“It’s for your own safety, ma’am,” repeated Carl, idly scanning the crowd for any sign of unrest. The woman… no, mare… had asked the same question at least six times that evening. Being directly addressed by any group of clients was still somewhat new and uncomfortable, though this was one of the conditions they had placed.
“Can we go soon?” the blue one whined, “I’m exhausted and my wings need a workout.”
The Speaker of the House finally finished her speech, earning raucous applause from everyone gathered in the ball room. Carl delayed his answer as he scanned the crowd once more. Any burst of noise and movement created potential openings… though things seemed safe for the moment.
All vacant chairs accounted for. No concealed hands or pointing gestures. All entry points still closed and manned. Only one of Carl’s routine checks sent spikes of panic through his spine, though it had done so every thirty seconds for the past two months of Carl’s life. It was just something he would have to get used to… if he wanted to keep his job, at least.
“Well?” the blue one asked.
“This shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes,” Carl explained.
“You said that five minutes ago!” the blue one refuted.
Before Carl could respond, the orange one spoke up, “Don’t pay her no mind, Sugarcube. She’s just miffed that Ah beat her inside when we got there.”
Right… Carl could vividly remember that particular “race” and the series of near-heart attacks it caused. Even after months of working with these ponies, they still struck Carl as suicidally naïve. Hell, that sort of naiveté was precisely the sort of thing that got Aegis involved in the first place.
“But that’s enough about me, I’m certain” Joked the Speaker, finally wrapping up her post-speech banter, “I’d like to introduce you all to a very special speaker, our esteemed guest from another world, Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria”
Aliens… all of the clients Carl was currently protecting… the special guest walking up the podium with a stack of papers piled on her back… aliens from another dimension. Carl had heard of first contact going down somewhere in Texas but until it became his business to care… was it odd that Carl had expected something more… humanoid?
“You go get them, Twilight!” encouraged the pink one, starting a wave of applause and cheering that spread across the room like wildlfire.
Carl took a moment to conduct his regular checks. Same large room. Same expensive chandeliers. Same main entrance, server entrance, and stage entrance. Same support crew lurking about as servers and ushers. Same momentary rush of panic. Same… wait…
“Everything safe in the neighborhood?” whined a small voice into Carl’s left ear.
“We lack eyes near table five. I see an elder gentleman seems to be sleeping... right through his thousand-dollar meal. Also, I will kill you if you use that joke again, Mike. Over.”
“You got it, Rogers. Over.”
Watching the crowd with what he considered to be “baseline vigilance”, Carl Rogers actually heard a small snippet of the purple one’s speech.
“…and to those members of the Avenbrook Church who think we come from ‘hell’, let me be the first to tell you that the cake in ‘hell’…” The princess paused for dramatic effect, “it’s worth it!”
Quite a few laughs emerged from the crowd, even if a small handful were awkward or polite. Carl, however, was not laughing. Carl was trying to scan the crowd and the purple one’s comment reminded him of why bodies were needed at every table… which raised his stress when he observed that table five was still unattended… which heightened the normal burst of fear each check created.
Carl instinctively wrapped his hand around the grip of the stun-gun but it simply wasn’t the same. No short or mid-range weapon could ever quite match the relief provided by lethal long-range ordinance… though the ponies would undoubtedly disagree.
Ever since these ponies returned to Earth, they had been sabotaging their own safety every step of the way. They refused to accept the protection of the FBI and secret service on the grounds that A) they didn’t want to be seen as the allies of a single nation and B) they didn’t want to be protected by something as lethal as guns. Heck, they seemed convinced that they didn’t need outside protection at all. They proved adamant on that point and even nonlethal rounds were staunchly vetoed.
With official government agencies out of the pictures, Aegis was the most respectable company in the industry willing to take on such high-profile targets with such a sizeable handicap. Sold to the ponies as “personal defense” instead of “counter-assassination”, the visitors reluctantly agreed to be helped… but only after placing one more restriction.
Carl Rogers was the professional bodyguard provided as part of the security detail. The bodyguard. While the ponies were all right with a security detail, they didn’t want someone hovering over them unless he or she was part of their “group”. Carl was the test run, an attempt to convince them to accept more help. If nothing else, Carl was pretty certain that the idea of being able to move independently was a pretty big draw for them.
Until then, however, Carl was one babysitter hired to work with six aliens, working what amounted to 16-hour shifts with no means of fending off ranged assailants. Unless someone walked up and tried to abduct or beat up a pony, Carl’s usefulness started and ended as an extra pair of eyes and one-use bullet sponge. With all of that in mind, Carl felt that some anxiety was justified when his team failed to react as instructed.
“Mike. Eyes on table five. Don’t make me repeat myself. Over”
“Don’t know what went wrong. I’m sending the message personally. Over”
“Ummm… Carl? Who are you talking to?” asked the yellow one, “and why did you say over? Twilight’s still speaking”
“Relax, Fluttershy,” the blue one yawned, “He’s probably using some human telepathy to talk to his friends. I see humans talking to themselves like that all the time.”
“Uhh… Ah don’t think humans do that, Dash. Ah’m think he’s usin’ that thingamajig in his ear.”
“Good observation, Applejack. I think that it might be based on radio-“
“Nuh-uh! it’s totally a walkie-talkie!” Interjected the pink one.
“As I was saying, I think that it might be based on radio-technology, though Pinkie may have guessed its purpose. I’m not sure about the ‘over’ business, however.”
“Oooh, oooh, let me guess. Is it the daylight? The meal? Our game of secret-tag? Wait, who was it? I didn’t even know that humans played secret-tag.”
Putting on his best smile, Carl looked back to the ponies and proceeded to lie his butt off, “Actually, while those are good guesses, I’m just taking some mental notes, girls. I was just remarking how Princess… Twilight’s… speech seems to be going over well with the crowd.”
Carl made a mental note to keep his voice down when coordinating the others. While the ponies’ understanding of human technology was limited, each relinquished secret seemed to make them harder and harder to protect.
With any luck, however, there wouldn’t be much of interest that night. While three assassination attempts had already been thwarted, they were so amateur that they had been foiled without the ponies realizing that anything had happened. The only reason that the dinner raised so many alarms was due to its close proximity with Avenbrook church, a church whose pastor recently declared “open season” on ponies. While it would be nice to think that security had done its job, Carl’s father had taught him at least one vital lesson.
Crazy always finds a way.
“Okay, figured out what was wrong,” spoke the tinny voice of Mike, “We might not have eyes at the table but I’m certain that we have a ghost. Do you need to take attendance again? Over.”
Groaning to himself, Carl reached for the iphone-sized device in his breast pocket, the device synchronized to his earphone and mouthpiece. Pressing the green button on top of the device gave him communications with Mike, the “infield coordinator”. The red button, meanwhile, was for an emergency broadcast that went out to the whole team… and to anyone else who had been trusted with the specific frequency.
In truth, there was a lot that ponies didn’t realize about their own security, half-truths, omissions, and occasional bold-faced lies required to keep them safe. For one, Aegis canvased far more ground than the immediate area around the ponies. Buildings, roads, and public sites were searched for trouble by the “outfield coordinator”. As her men would never meet the ponies, they had been supplied with actual guns to help take out snipers before our guests could arrive.
Tapping the red button, Carl whispered, “Attendence”
Almost two dozen donors in the audience, including a young woman sitting at table five, chose that very moment to scratch an ear. While the official job of guarding the ponies fell to Aegis, the FBI still thought to send a few agents (packed with normal weaponry) wherever the ponies went… as did MI6… and SVR… and intelligence agencies from every nation with some vested interest in keeping the ponies alive. While the precise numbers varied from day to day, Carl estimated that the Ponies were being protected by at least three hundred individuals at all times.
“…and if the bonds you share with your constituents are anywhere near as strong as those I see in this room,” the purple one called out, “I can all but promise that your nation’s future is in capable hands. Thank you, everybody”
With those final words, the audience broke into applause and the ponies were finally set to go home. Carl stretched his back as he ran another check of the room. While Carl was far too busy to give it much thought, he found a degree of irony in the royal endorsement of a presidential candidate. Darling of the world or not, that would probably come up in the debates. Then again, what did Carl really care? He wasn’t being paid to-
“sweet merciful hell…” Carl muttered, staring at the flying machine that had just emerged from the chandelier, ”DRONE!”
What floated in the air was not a sleek military death machine equipped to rain down judgment from the sky. It was a commercially available drone, haphazardly mounted with a pistol. Crazy had found its way into the dinner and no matter how odd and awkward the threat, Aegis had vowed to take the threat seriously.
In the five seconds after Carl’s shouted warning, six main events took place:
1. The crowd began to panic, the guests on stage (including the yellow one and white one) began their retreat, and every “ghost” in the audience reached for their weaponry.
2. Seeing where the drone was pointed, Carl ran up to the Princess and interposed himself. Unlike what you see on dramatized television, the optimal method of interposition is neither leaping in front of a bullet (which would require perfect timing) nor shoving your client out of the way (which would disorient the client and open them to further blows). Instead, this involved rotating to stand with your back between the gun and your target. If you are hit and fall forward, you can absorb several shots in this way and buy more time for reinforcements.
3. The pink one grabbed a banana cream pie from a nearby dessert cart and tossed it at the drone with pinpoint accuracy. Knocking it back a few feet even as the cream started gumming up the propellers.
4. Either an external command or the force of the pie triggered the gun to shoot at Carl’s spine.
5. A prismatic blur flew through the air and smashed the drone against the ceiling of the ballroom immediately afterwards.
6. A purple shell of “magic” leapt into existence, intercepting the incoming bullet with no real damage beyond a couple cracks to the shell.
When that display had concluded, the chaos in the room magnified even as the attitude in the room shifted. A good number of diners, including most of the “ghosts”, simply sat in shock or awe. A few people started applauding the ponies as if it had all been “part of the show”, applause that the blue one relished with a few mid-air bows. A few people were still caught up in the chaos, too busy to realize that the danger had passed.
Mike, however, had taken to the situation like a pro. While he sent a signal along the emergency network to reach the “outfield”, he still shouted in all of our eyes, “RANGE OF SIGHT IS LIMITED INDOORS AND THAT MEANS THE SAME FOR RANGE. AEGIS, SPLIT UP AND FIND THE PERSON RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MADNESS. ROGERS, EXTRACT THE CLIENTS AND RETURN TO KNOWN GROUND.”
By the time those orders were finished, all six ponies have their eyes on Carl. “Okay, mares, time to fall in and move out.”
“What?! Everything just got interesting!” the blue one lamented.
“Rainbow Dash…” the yellow one responded, “If Carl thinks it’s safer to head back, could we… maybe… try that… please?”
“Oh all right. Fine!” The blue one relented.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Carl stated, already pushing through the stage exit and into the serene and neatly-carpeted halls, “you can keep an eye on our tail; make sure we aren’t followed.”
The blue one seemed to approve of that idea, giving a military solute before moving to the back of the group.
“All right, ponies,” Carl spoke up, “While the threat in there was… different, we can’t be sure that there’s nothing else waiting. Whenever we reach a new intersection, let me check it out first. I’ll give you a signal if it’s safe to go ahead.”
“As you say, Sir,” the white one acknowledged, smiling, “you are the resident expert, after all.”
Progress through the halls was slow and steady, maneuvering to the lobby just as the first guests were being released and the night staff was arriving. The cops had apparently been contacted as well and two were busy speaking with a receptionist at the front desk.
In the relative safety of the lobby, the ponies discussed amongst themselves as Carl debriefed an infield agent on the emptiness of the pass he had taken. Even reports of emptiness can help to shorten a search, after all. In the brief time taken to give the “all clear”, however, the ponies had managed to find new trouble of their own.
*Smash* “Ow! The hell?! What do you think that you’re doing?”
Turning to the sound of the noise, it appeared that the orange one had lassoed one leg of a janitor, tripped him, and was slowly dragging him back. The janitor was a young one, still in his early twenties. A single trash bag was held in his extended hand.
“What’s going on?” Carl asked, fighting to keep frustration from his voice as he urgently glanced between the ponies, the janitor, and the carrier van waiting just outside.
“Oh, I was going to tell you,” announced the white one, “I do believe that I identified our assailant. Not as imposing as those we see back home, mind you, but equally deserving of proper punishment, I would venture.”
“How… just how?”
“Oh… right. *Achem* I recognized this young human as having worked as one of the servers back in the dining hall. While he didn’t serve any of us personally, I had noticed that his uniform was made of inferior material compared with the other uniforms. While I suppose that could be a coincidence, I also noticed that this uniform is size or two large for him. Plus, he’s the only janitor who isn’t wearing a nametag.”
A violet glow surrounded the trash bag, causing it to lift into the air and rip out of its owner’s hand, “Wait… no. You’re just going to make a new mess and…”
A server’s uniform spilled right out of the bag as it was turned upside down. On top of the clothes tumbled a plastic controller.
The janitor and Carl exchanged a long look as the bodyguard reached for his weapon. As he moved to draw it, however, a pink hoof pressed down on his hand. The pink pony, looking up with the calmest smile he’d seen from her, gently shook her head, “We got this one covered, Carl. Fluttershy, you’re up!”
The following five minutes were something of a breaking point for Carl. After spending two months with a group of ponies that seemed dead-set on getting themselves assassinated, the first credible threat against them slowly unraveled without a single hint of outside assistance. It felt like a Saturday morning cartoon. When the yellow- when Fluttershy’s words reduced her would-be murderer to tears, Carl didn’t even question it.
After receiving a heartfelt apology and turning the criminal over to the police, Carl lead the ponies out of the building and into the relative security of the van. Thankfully, the trip home managed to pass without particular incident… unless you counted two dozen variations of the question “How awesome was I?” as a real ‘incident.
At the moment, the ponies were currently being housed in a modest hotel across town. It was the sort of thing for travel on a budget, though many of its features made it ideal for storing valuable persons. Smaller hotels and those in riskier neighborhoods tended to carry features like barred windows or combinations of key cards and actual locks. The narrow halls and lack of alternate pathways made guarding the halls a breeze. Finally, buying out and guarding every room above, below, and next to those of important entities was made surprisingly cost-efficient.
Escorting the ponies to their room (the six of them had asked to stick together until they were used to Earth), Carl gave a small bow. “It was a pleasure as always, girls. We start at 8 AM tomorrow so Rainbow Dash can sleep in a little if she needs to.”
“I wouldn’t call that ‘sleeping in’” Rainbow Dash commented, “though I guess it’s a s- wait a minute… You just called me Rainbow Dash!”
“Yes,” Carl confirmed, “it’s your name.”
“But… you never use our names,” Dash blurted, “At least not unless you’re really mad,”
“Or worried,” Fluttershy commented.
“Or lyin’” Applejack deadpanned.
“Huh,” Carl spent a moment or two in thought, “I guess… Look, I can’t say that I’m one of your fans but I know that there’s a cartoon based on your world… or that made your world… or something. Calling you something like ‘Pinkie Pie’ or ‘Fluttershy’ made you kind of feel less real… not exactly the healthiest thing for your bodyguard to be feeling”
“What changed, then” Twilight Sparkle asked.
“Tonight happened,” Carl responded, “After all that happened tonight… I’m not sure that being real makes you any less of a cartoon. I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.”
“As long as you’re not calling me lame,” Rainbow Dash countered, stifling a yawn, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Fer whatever it’s worth, Sugarcube, Ah reckon we owe you a great deal of thanks fer your actions as well. You were the one who first spotted the danger to start with, right?”
“Yeah,” Pinkie Pie added, “and then you went *stomp*stomp*stomp*-SWOOP right in front of Twilight like some giant shield.”
“Even if it wasn’t necessary in the end,” Rarity finished, “It’s nice to know that some humans have our best interests at heart.”
Carl opened his mouth to speak, though the words refused to come out. At long last, he managed a chuckle as a rare smile touched the corners of his mouth, “Thanks. Goodnight, girls.”
Closing their door, Carl took a deep breath. A group of genuine national heroes, ponies who had supposedly saved an entire world on multiple occasions, had given him some praise. While the job ahead of him was still unspeakably difficult and unusual, Carl could imagine for the very first time that it might be something that he could get used to… eventually.
For now, however, it was time to get yelled at and fill out some paperwork.
At long last, some normalcy.