//------------------------------// // Act 3 Chapter 5: Is Fame To Blame? // Story: Starlight Over Detrot: A Noir Tale // by Chessie //------------------------------// Starlight Over Detrot Act 3 Chapter 5: Is Fame To Blame? Princess Celestia, in her thousand year rule, learned many things, but none so thoroughly as the value of reputation. To be a pony of repute is to have an invisible shield against a surprising number of dangerous comers. Being the Princess who raises the sun and moon (for the largest part) had a certain weight, but Celestia was never above a carefully chosen demonstration. An invasion by the fifth Diamond Dog Reich in B.L.R. 566 was fended off with little more than a missive suggesting Celestia was feeling a bit light headed from all this ‘violent talk’ and might step off the throne for a few hours during a meteor shower, which meant of course that several thousand meteors might not burn up entirely over the Diamond Dog lands. The profuse apology that followed contained offers of tribute and the heads of the former leadership. It was rebuffed in favor of a pleasant trade negotiation and a further three hundred years passed before the Diamond Dogs felt bold enough to set paw on Equestrian soil. Thus, Celestia’s reputation as a kind and just ruler was further cemented in the minds of world leaders who felt it behooved them more often to just ask nicely when they needed something from her. That, as they say, is the power of reputation. Since her return, Princess Luna has developed her own reputation and it is one that Princess Celestia has been known to use to great effect during international disputes. Whereas Celestia can be relied upon to find a pleasant, equitable solution to most issues, Princess Luna tends to believe in an iron hoof method of solving problems, as demonstrated during the Cuckoo Incident. While few would disagree that he’d had it coming after the kidnappings at Sun Sweet Orphanage, Griffin Legionnaires still set their watches to the clock made from the remains of General Frederick Flesh Stripper. They consider it a reminder that if one is to force someone to prove their reputation, it’s best done within one's own weight class. In the modern age, celebrity tends to mean fame rather than a reputation, but wise minds will heed a loud bark, since a large bite may soon follow. -The Scholar ‘Blood works’ was an apt name; the undercarriage of Pollick’s place stank like a butcher shop in a college gym. I hadn’t been down there before, but the barely lit concrete hall just off the arena still reeked. Another ‘employees only’ door led down a narrow set of steps. Rows of lockers, each with a name stenciled on a card taped to the front, lined the walls and three curtained stalls sat side by side at the far end. The room was deserted, but one of the stalls was occupied, water trickling into a floor drain just out front. “Limerence, would you take Sykes and Mags and try to find us some safe passage across town?” I murmured. “I don’t want to take the sewers if I can avoid it.” Mags stuck her head up and gave me an indignant nip on the ear. “Hey! Egg pony better not be ditchin—” Turning, I tilted my shoulders so she slid down to where I could pluck her out of my coat and set her on her feet between Sykes front knees. Leaning down so I was on her level, I put a hoof around her shoulders. “I’m not. I just need a few. We’ll be upstairs in a minute. Have Sykes show you his axe. Figure you’ll be big enough to have your own one day soon.” That seemed to mollify her and she let Sykes pick her up, cradling her in one leg. She began gently batting at one of the braids in his mane as he nodded towards the stall with steam billowing out of it. “Ye know what yer gonna say, ‘egg pony’?” “Of course. Now piss off so I can say it.” Climbing up onto his shoulders, Mags’ gave me a little squint. “This be one of those ‘stupid adult things’, right Har’dy? She be your friend.” “She’s more than that, kiddo. She’s my partner,” I said, making a little whisking motion in their direction. “Shoo. I got this. I’ll meet you upstairs.” They filed out, leaving me alone in the blood works with nothing but the steam and the scent of old, caked on sweat and blood. Celestia save me, I didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t that little pony who’d hopped and saluted and listened to her mentally unstable, alcoholic superior as he dragged her into death and horror. A month and some change ago she’d apologized when she popped a guy. I’d just watched her beat a griffin five times her size into unconsciousness...for fun. That was right, wasn’t it? She’d been smiling the whole time. Trotting over to one of the benches down the middle of the room, I sank onto it, sweeping off my hat and leaving it beside me. I wiped a hoof down my face, shaking my mane out. A few of Mags’ baby feathers went with it, fluttering to the cold floor. ‘Juni, if you want to show up and give me some pointed advice, now would be the time,’ I thought. The voice in my head remained stubbornly silent. I kept telling myself I wasn’t guilty, despite the lie of it. It wasn’t me who stole her innocence. She’d decided to follow me. I’d told her, again and again, to stay behind. She was still Swift, even when she was leaving the Hammer with what was likely to be a fantastic concussion. What did that mean, though? After all the stuff we’d seen, she was still herself; still the writer, still the cop, still following orders to stay in Sky Town even after everything went to pot and she had no reason to believe I was coming back besides a promise made by her alcoholic, potentially schizophrenic partner. Even when she was trying to rip my throat out back in the Plot Hole, maybe she’d been Swift then, too and some part of her just knew that killing me would save her more pain and vileness. The water stopped running and the shower curtain swept back. Swift trotted out of the blood-stained shower stall where a few trickles of slightly red water were still circling the drain. Her eyes were closed as she scrubbed her mane with a clean towel, limping over to the other end of the bench I was sitting on. Her combat vest was folded up there along with a small, white box with pink butterflies on the top; a first aid kit. Sitting down, she tossed the towel across the back of her neck and stretched her wings out to full extension, wincing as the left one didn’t quite unbend completely. Those claw-marks on her side still looked pretty nasty and there were a few others on her; scrapes and scratches that looked like they’d been healed with magic. A particularly ugly one started on her back thigh and went right down to her knee, but the scar was already faded. “Kid?” I whispered. Her eyes snapped open and her wings slapped shut against her sides. Slowly, she turned her head to face me. “Sir?” she murmured, then slid down onto all fours. I got to my hooves and moved closer, studying her brilliant blue gaze. “It’s me, kid. Gotta say, I missed—” Most of the air rushed out of my lungs as she crashed into me, throwing me over onto my back and clinging to my barrel with all four limbs. Even her wings swept down, twitching spasmodically against the floor as she tried to squeeze me half to death. Her head tucked neatly under my chin as I lay there, gasping for breath, covered in pegasus. I put my forelegs around her and shut my eyes, just laying there holding her tight to my chest. She was soaked from ears to tail, but it didn’t matter. We both needed the contact. She was my partner and it was the end of the world. In those moments, nothing else matters. It was the door of the locker room opening that finally brought us back to reality. I had a slight cramp in my side where Swift was resting most of her weight and we were both starting to get a little cold. “Ahem...I can come back later,” Ref murmured, standing over behind a row of lockers. “No, no...it’s fine,” I replied, gently shifting my partner off of me and rolling onto my side. Swift gathered her front hooves under her chest in a way that reminded me vaguely of a cat as she stretched her back legs out on the floor. “We’ll be leaving soon. Do you need something?” “Nothing much, Mister Hard Boiled. I’m certain there will be plenty of persons interested in your skin when you’re no longer under the griffon tribe-lord’s protection. Must be a change of pace for you, no?” The old stallion asked, trotting over to us. He still wore the sharp tux, but the bow had been loosened and he had a stack of towels resting across his leg with a strange, slightly curved knife laying on top of them. Setting the knife aside, he picked up the first aid kit and cracked it open, pulling out a strip of packaged bandages. “Miss Cuddles? I have your winnings. Would you like me to patch you up or would you prefer I leave it to one of the medicos?” Pushing herself up, Swift climbed up onto the bench. “Can I have my winnings first?” she asked, smiling up at me as though she couldn’t quite believe I was really there. “Ah, but of course,” he replied, setting the bandages aside. Extending the wing with all the bandaids on it, Swift shut her eyes and held out her hoof to me. A bit mystified, I took it. “Four to one odds tonight, my dear! Well done! The Hammer might not be the most graceful fighter, but he is very experienced. That’ll be five, all told.” Swift nodded and wiggled her wingtip as Ref picked up the knife in his teeth and a towel in his hoof. Before I could stop him, he leaned over and made a neat, inch long cut along the outside edge of her wing. My partner quivered and a slow smile spread across her cheeks. I reached over and put my hoof on Ref’s head, pushing him back as he went in to make the second cut. “Hey! What is this about winnings?! Last I checked, winnings didn’t involve more bleeding!” Swift caught the edge of my coat in her muzzle, tugging me back from Ref, who stood patiently with the knife in his mouth. “Sir...Sir, it’s okay. I promise. This is how you take your winnings if you’re a griffin.” “You’re not a griffin and we’re done here! We don’t need griffin currency and I don’t see you collecting this blood!” I snapped, gently peeling back one of the band-aids on her wing. There was another barely healed scratch there. She shook her head and put a hoof on my chest. “Sir, this isn’t...ugh. This isn’t like the Tokan thing with blood. This is about stories.” I narrowed my gaze at her. “Stories. Like those stories you’ve been telling people about me? I come back and find out ponies are calling me ‘Dead Heart’ and ‘Bulldog’ now. I left so I could lay low, kid. Not come back famous!” Swift gulped as Ref wiped the wound on her wing gently, then peeled a bandaid open and added it to the collection. “Sir, I didn’t come up with Bulldog. That was probably Gypsy…” I slapped my hoof against my forehead. “Not the point!” Her expression wavered between irritation and sadness as she jabbed her wing towards Ref’s knife. “This...this is what you told me to do, Sir. Go to Sky Town and keep myself safe.” “How does pit fighting qualify as ‘safe’?!”         She gave me a slightly grumpy look and got to her hooves, pacing back and forth in front of me. “I was chased here, Sir. Chased! When I left my parent’s house, I took off and when I was crossing the city, I got this funny feeling. I never got a good look at them, but they were definitely ponies. At least...I think they were. I winged it away as quick as I could, but...I haven’t left the Pit almost since you got here! Mister Sykes came in on the second night after I got in a...um...I got in a disagreement with somepony—”         “A fight, kid. I heard from Mrs. Martini,” I sighed, pulling her back to the bench. “You got in a fight. Alright, sorry I yelled. I’d be proud of you if I wasn’t so pissed, but I think I get the shape of things. They chased you into Sky Town and the only place they couldn’t come was one packed to the gills with heavily armed griffins.”         She nodded. “I...I volunteered to fight because...because stories are like armor to griffins. The bigger your story, the more will come to your aid. At least, that’s how Sykes explained it. You win in the arena and you get scars when you win. Their greatest tribe lords are skinned when they die and their skins are the stories of their society. Stories written in—”         “—in scars,” I muttered, leaning back from her. “That’s why you’ve been spreading my name around, too? Making me sound like some kind of folk hero?”         “Yes! Ponies are the same! Sir, have you seen the things they’ve been saying about you in the news?”         I shook my head. “I saw the wanted poster, if that’s what you mean.”         Coming around to her side, Ref sat down beside us, pulling a small flask from his tux pocket and unscrewing the cap. He sipped it carefully, then held it out to me. “There is some disagreement as to whether or not you are the monster of this piece or just a scapegoat for the monumental incompetence of City Hall,” he said. “Since they closed off the city center, leaving most of us to our own devices the opinions have run more closely towards ‘scapegoat’. There is also the matter of how silly it sounds every time one of those fools claims a former police officer was somehow responsible for the Darkening.”         “Lemme guess,” I said, taking the flask, waving it under my nose, then downing a nip. It was rum. Good rum. “I’m a secret terrorist, super-villain, controlled by magic, replaced by changelings, being blackmailed by dragons—”         Ref chuckled, picking up the ritual knife again. “I see you’ve been around this particular block, then. Yes, you’ve been called all of those things. They are countered by the simply staggering list of individuals it seems are in your debt, not the least of which are our most recent biggest customers: the Tokan and the Hitlan. Martini, aside her love of drink, knows good business. Protecting your friend is good business. Having her fight, particularly after her demonstration that second night...that was better business.” “And this?” I asked, gesturing at her wing. Swift turned and offered it to Ref again, taking hold of my leg. He made another small cut and shrugged. “Entertainment, protection, and free advertising. Griffins like their traditional symbols and their violence. Pollick’s Interspecies Taphouse associated with a pair of wanted fugitives, or possibly the saviors of the city? How could my employers refuse?” “The city...the whole of Equestria is going straight to the Moon out there and you’re worrying about advertising?!” I scoffed as Swift clenched my leg a bit more tightly. “Of course, Mister Hard Boiled,” Ref replied, stroking his hoof back through his thin, grey mane. “How else are we meant to keep the city from going straight to the Moon, as you so eloquently put it?” The train of my outrage went right off the rails. “Come again?” Ref wiped Swift’s blood on his towel, then went in for another slice, keeping one eye on me and one on his work. “You must know of my employer, Mister Pollick. Very interested in ‘interspecies peace’. Things fell apart and his daughters are left here alone. That first day was...quite hectic. Their father was in Canterlot, after all. Still, they fell back on his earliest lessons. With customers pouring in, we had little choice, even in the wake of such tragedy and chaos, but to keep the bar open. That meant putting on a fight, to distract everypony. Better that than a group of demoralized griffins squatting in our parlor, drunk, surly, and ready to rip one another to pieces. Your young friend here volunteered.” “And why, pray tell, would any sane pony do that?” I demanded. Swift started to answer, but I put a hoof over her muzzle. “I said sane, kid. Hush.” Ref cleared his throat and smiled. “Heh, well...I would not presume upon her personal reasons, but society is perpetually six meals from collapse. Keep the griffins entertained, keep them fed—” “—and keep them from killing each other...or ponies. Right, I understand,” I finished, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I can’t say I like it, but I get it. Kid, how’d the griffins react when you told them about their leadership and the eggs?” Swift’s ears laid back. “Um…well, they didn’t actually peel all my skin off and cover me in lemon juice. They weren’t happy. Sykes was here and...and he vouched for me. With his brother gone, he’s...um...he’s basically head of the Hitlan tribe right now. He made some kind of ‘challenge’ for leadership and nobody wanted to fight. He said the Hitlan should protect the Tokan, so...the Tokan have been making sure he stays head of the tribe, too.” “I thought the Hitlan chucked him out when he left the plateaus and joined the Detrot Police Department.”  “It’s griffin politics, Sir. I don’t think you get to understand unless you have a beak.”         “That’s what I was afraid of. Well, either way, we need to get Derida and Grimble Shanks back here. Another thing on my list of ‘crap to handle before a catastrophe ensues’. First things first, though...we need to get Taxi. I’ve got Sykes and Limerence with me. I’m having them acquire us some transport out of Sky Town. Unfortunately, none of us can drive.” I turned to Ref. “I don’t guess you know of any easy ways out of this borough that might avoid the attention of the P.A.C.T. or anypony else who might want us dead?”         “Perhaps. I may have something in the back that could suit your purposes,” Ref murmured as he dabbed at the wounds on my partner’s side with a cotton ball covered in disinfectant. She flinched under each touch, but took it like a champ. “Good. Kid, where is the Hailstorm?” “I buried it nearby.” “Go get it, but keep it in a bag. I don’t think we need a heavy hitter just now. Ref? What sort of transportation are we talking about.” Ref set aside his disinfectant and began opening another package of bandages. “Ehm...I can’t vouch for safety or reliability, but it will probably fly. Good enough for one trip across town at least. Mrs. Martini may be a tad irritated, but she seems to be perpetually irritated these days. I doubt she’ll miss it.”         “Okay, good to...wait...did you say fly? I am an earth pony. I don’t do ‘fly’!”          ----          “Sir, I know it’s a fixer upper, but Ref found us a magic pack that’ll fit and Sykes and I can definitely pull it—”         “I don’t care! I am not getting in a turn of the century air chariot that’s been used as a bar table for the last twenty years! There’s not even any seat belts!”         “It doesn’t need seat belts, Sir. These old things were enchanted so you can’t fall out.”         “Enchanted when my grandfather was in diapers!”         “Och, boyo, she works foine! Cloudwood moight be awful rare these days, but Oi bet me loife she still lifts!”         “Cloudwood, solid platinum, or magical pegasus farts! I do not give a flying toss! I am not getting in that thing!”         ----         “AAAHHH!!!”         “Sir, could you please be quiet? It’s hard enough to fly with this harness chafing my flank!”         “Oi think yer unicorn friend should hit’em wi’ some knockout spell till we touches down. Me ears be startin’ to ache.”         “Would that I could. Sadly, even if I knew such a spell, my horn is still out of commission.”         “Can we be putting sock in egg pony’s mouth? He be loud and tossing cookies off the back!”         “Sir, why do we have her with us again?”         “AAAHHH!!!” “She is one of the Detective’s ‘projects’, I think. Much like you, myself, and Miss Taxi, I suspect. Either way, I should have thought to fashion a gag with some of that rope while we were tying him up. Still, wouldn’t want him drowning in his own vomit. I do miss my silence spell.” “I be not a project, Limmy! I be a tribe-lord! He be my Egg Pony! Now hush and drive the flying thing! Can we be going faster? I wanna do a loop!”         I paused for a breath and asked, “Speaking of that, how are the power levels in the magic pack?”         “Holding steady, Detective.”         “Oh. Good...AAAHHH!!!”         ----         My voice had given out about five minutes before landing and I was left laying there in the bottom of the air chariot, listening to the creaking of ancient cloudwood. The stuff was kinda pretty, when you got right down to it. It had a lustrous shine that looked almost like gold. Old Pegasus designs tended towards the fanciful. I felt the buggy drop as Swift and Sykes took us in for a landing and my stomach dropped along with it. I missed having Taxi around for things like that. If she’d been there, she’d just have bucked me in the head until I got to nap through the trip from Sky Town. As it was, my coat was soaked with terrified sweat and my bladder had become a pressing issue. As we hit tarmac, I tugged at my bindings a little bit. Limerence had done a really good job, getting all four legs in a position I couldn’t use my strength to bust out of them. I was a little grateful, but mostly annoyed, since the flight over had involved blanketing a large section of downtown in a rain of boozy puke. Swift had unhitched herself from the yoke at the front of the chariot and trotted back, leaning down to carefully bite the ropes around my knees. “Kid, you’re going to need a knife. Those knots—” The ropes cut like a hot knife through runny eggs. She spat a few strands out and smiled apologetically as I got to my hooves. Limerence let out a sad sigh, patting the air chariot’s lightly smoking control box as he helped Mags down from the platform. “I fear that may have been this vehicle’s last ride, Detective-” Hauling my trigger into my teeth, I kicked my coat off my shotgun and leveled it at the chariot. Sykes leapt away from the hitchings just in time. The gun made a lovely noise and the kick was like a gentle bump in the shoulder. If I ever ran into him again, I was going to have to thank the Cyclone I’d taken it from. His taste in weaponry was exquisite. I shut my eyes as the echo died away into the distance. My friends were watching me nervously, so I let my trigger drop. “I agree. Last ride. Can I just make it clear to everyone again that I don’t do ‘heights’?” They nodded vigorously. Mags gave the wreckage of the vehicle a sad look, then flapped over onto my back. My terrified yowling aside, she’d enjoyed the ride. Glancing around at our surroundings, I frowned. We’d come down in a parking lot somewhere on the edge of the Heights. The grocery store in the middle of the lot was abandoned, front windows boarded up with plywood. Across the street, a whole row of apartments had the bottom floors sealed with lock and chain. Chicken-wire wrapped every point of entry I could see. It was careful, professional, and exactly what was necessary to keep a space locked down against all but the most determined looting. The Heights was more deserted than I’d ever seen it. We seemed to be the only five souls in the area. Even the sky was clear of anything bigger than the pigeon Swift was watching with a look that would have required me to bust her for ‘intent’ if it’d been a pony. “Anyone else feeling a little like we missed a party?” I asked. “Yes, Detective,” Lim replied, checking the time on his watch. Without the sun to clue me in, I’d long since lost track of morning and evening. “I admit I am feeling a tad...unsettled. Our power levels were fluctuating badly before we landed, but I do believe we’re less than eight blocks from the Vivarium.” “Nine blocks,” Swift added, snatching the bag she’d stowed the Hailstorm in off the remains of the chariot and slinging it over her shoulder. “I...mmm...I don’t know. Something’s weird. My grandmare is the head of security and I would never leave a perimeter undefended like this…” “Neither would After Glow’s associates, Miss Cuddles,” said a voice from behind me. I whirled, ratcheting another shell into my shotgun and snatching the bit into my muzzle. There was nothing there. I scanned the lot as Lim, Swift, and Sykes spread out, watching the rooftops. Letting my trigger drop, I raised my voice and asked, “Somepony out there?” Several seconds went by, then the voice returned. “We’ve got to put the interdiction field back up, Detective. Give me a moment.” I felt a tingle in my hooves and Swift let out a squeak as her wings puffed out from her sides. Lim winced, clutching the sides of his head with both hooves. After a moment, the sensation faded. “Sir...Miss Stella—” “—has an flight interdictor. I’ve got that,” I replied, then called out, “Where is everyone?” “You’ll see,” the voice answered. I couldn’t tell if it was a male or female voice. “Move towards the Vivarium. Take the street you’re on two blocks down. At the corner of Andelusia and Tenth, cross between the pharmacy with the sea serpent on the front and the bar with the knife on the sign. If you go any other way, you won’t make it inside. We’ve got interference—” “Yeah, that’s me. Ignore it,” I said, touching the Crusader for comfort. “I have to shut this transmitter down, Detective. Somepony keeps doing broad band surveillance scans every hour or two. Start moving! A Black Coat patrol passes just outside the field in two minutes! They’ll be able to see you in the open!” Then voice fell silent, leaving me feeling a bit cold. “Egg pony...we be doing what invisible pony voice say?” Mags asked, pushing her beak against my ear. Turning to Sykes, I gestured at the remains of the air chariot. “Could you get that thing out of sight, then hoof it out of the interdiction field and head back to Sky Town? The griffins need their leadership. I’ll send your brother and aunt as soon as I figure out what is going on. Be careful, alright?” Clapping me on the back, Sykes turned in the direction I assumed was Sky Town. “Aye, Oi’ll keep moiself safe, boyo. Ye be doin’ the same.” With that he loped off towards down the street away from the Bay. “I don’t know about you, Detective, but I think I don’t want to be anywhere near here when those P.A.C.T. creatures come this way.” “Agreed,” I replied, then set off at a canter, my friends on my heels. ---- The ‘bar with the knife on the sign’ had an actual knife in it; more of a claymore impaled through a plank. Across the adjoining alley, somepony with a special talent for tagging had painted a stylized image of a sea serpent eating its own tail in neon purple spray-paint. Road after road had been empty and abandoned, but none of it was looted. It was as though the Heights was in a sort of stasis, becalmed and waiting for ponies to come back to pick up their tea and finish their biscuits. The eclipse hung in the sky like a malevolent mouth, waiting to devour us. I took a certain satisfaction in that it hadn’t managed it already.         Peering into the alley, I held up a hoof. Lim and Swift piled in behind me. I waited, holding my breath, ears perked for any sound or whisper of motion. There was nothing.         “This is paranoid even for your grandmare,” I murmured.         “My grandmare, Sir? She’s been unconscious since the attack, hasn’t she?” Swift asked.         I glanced at her. “I didn’t tell you that…”         “I know, Sir. I…” Her ears laid back. “I wish you had. Tourniquet was right about you. The thing she said about...about you lying if you thought it would make something better...”         Rubbing my eyelid with one toe, I tried to think of a way of apologizing, but I couldn’t come up with anything just then. ‘Sorry’ felt like a drop in a really big bucket.         “You can beat the crap out of me later if it’ll make you feel better, kid.”         I didn’t look at her. Call me a coward if you like. I certainly called myself one plenty of times while laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I started to step into the alley.         A reddish-brown cannonball seemed to appear in mid air about a meter in front of me and I didn’t have time to get my gun up before it hit me square in the chest. Mags leapt clear just in time as I rolled end over end, eyes tightly shut and as I waited patiently for death. I came to a stop with something soft and slightly wet pressed into my muzzle.         “Scarlet Petals!” Swift snapped, stomping a hoof. “Bad colt!”         Cracking one eye, I found myself looking up into the face of a very pretty stallion. He raised his head, his cheeks a few shades redder than the rest of him. Tears gathered at the corners of his eye as he pulled his...yes, that was definitely tongue...out of my mouth. Stumbling backwards, he ducked like I might hit him, putting a hoof over his face.         “Sorry, Detective. I’m just...just so glad you’re alright!” he squeaked as I rolled over and pulled myself up.         “I didn’t be knowing Har’dy like boys,” Mags murmured to Limerence in a half whisper. The librarian gently shooed her under himself as I smoothed down my lapels and marched over to Scarlet.         I could hear his heart thumping and he smelled nervous, but I got the distinct impression he’d have nuzzled me like an affectionate cat if I’d gotten any closer. “Mister Petals, I know you have...boundary issues...but asking permission is how you avoid somepony punching you in the nose,” I growled, wiping my muzzle; a streak of Scarlet’s pink lipstick came off on my fetlock. He nodded, weakly, then his eyes lit up. “I...I can ask permission to kiss you, Detective?” Swift swatted him on the back of the head with one wingtip. “You ask me permission before you kiss him, dorkus, or I kick your silly behind! Now, who’s running things right now and where is everypony?” “Eh...well, s-something of a story there,” Stella’s secretary stammered, glancing down the alley. “Almost half of the Stilettos were unicorns, Detective. A third of them are unconscious now, including Mistress After Glow.” “I’m aware of that,” I sighed. “Who’s been running the show since then?” He swallowed sharply, turning his head to show me a communication gem tucked into his ear. “I’ve been trying to take care of things as best I can, but things were pretty chaotic that first day and Mistress Stella is mostly relegated to places where there might be water. Our chain of command broke down somewhat, but...when you left Miss Taxi with us, she was in something of a ‘take charge’ state of mind...” “You must be joking. No, wait...of course you’re not joking,” I slumped, dejectedly against the wall of the alley. “I told her to take it easy for a week.” “Well, she did spend most of that period in bed, but with so many of the Stilettos incapacitated and Miss Svelte unconscious as well, I’m...I’m afraid we were sorta short of capable hooves.” “So, what then? Taxi organized whatever happened out there?” I asked. “It looks like some kind of damned evacuation.” Scarlet nodded. “You’re not wrong, sadly.” He glanced at his hooves, then picked up a pebble and chucked it into the alley. There was a flash and the pebble vanished in mid-air. “We’ve got flight interdiction in place to keep the dragons away and what Stilettos we’ve got left have made sure looters know this is a bad place...but without the police, it was too hard to keep track of such a large space.” “Illusions, then? Mass illusion magics?” Limerence asked. “Wherever did you get power for such a thing?” “Well, we...erm...we’re stealing it, actually,” Scarlet explained, a bit bashfully. “We laid an electrical tap into one of the Shield pylons just outside the Heights. The amount of power going through them is…simply monumental.” I tilted my head. “I thought the Shield was down.” Scarlet hesitated for several seconds, then touched the com gem in his ear. “Miss Taxi wants to explain. She also wants to snap your neck, give you a hug, scream at you, and...feed you bagels.” I perked up. “Bagels?” “Mmmhmmm.” “Lead the way!” Scarlet turned back to the alley as Mags crept up onto my shoulders. “Har’dy...glitter pony be sweet on you?” she whispered. I couldn’t hold back a snort. “What gave it away?” “You be sweet on him?”  “Kiddo, unless you want to find yourself a new mount, just stick to naps, eating chickens, and destroying tax documents. Leave the irritating commentary to the pony who is about to break my face.” ---- As we neared the other end of the alley, sound seemed to rush in from all sides; soft music, giggling foals, hooves on concrete, and crackling fires. The scene ahead seemed to shimmer and melt away like water washing away a badly developed photo, leaving a busy street. So much of the city was either abandoned or badly underpopulated that I couldn’t escape a sense that I was in a strange urban ocean with of islands of ponykind and shark infested waters between. Two Stilettos with white sashes across their chests and bandoliers full of shivs strapped to their sides were waiting for us; one unicorn, one earth pony. They nodded to Scarlet as he stepped between them and he beckoned for me to follow. “Most intriguing,” Lim mumbled to himself, looking up at the sky. The air about thirty meters overhead seemed to shine and glistened now and then. “This looks like a modification of several of my father’s spells. It must take a simply gigantic amount of magical energy to keep such a spell over the entire Heights…” It might have been any other day on the street in Detrot, though it did seem a tad crowded for that. Tension hung heavy in the air and few of the ponies on the street seemed to be engaged in small talk. Most were rushing from place to place, carrying carts full of goods or simply sitting with one another in doorways, taking what comfort they could. Every now and then somepony would look up at the eclipse and shake their head. “Mistress Stella has access to a few little tidbits from the war,” Scarlet chirped. “One of them was our flight interdictor. Another was the spell core that is protecting us. Sadly, none of it could bring our sun back. I miss sunlight.” “Ponies be liking their magic head popping spell things too much,” Mags commented, dropping off my back and trotting up beside Scarlet. She studied him curiously, then leaned over and gave him a little poke in the flank. He danced sideways and gave her a reproachful look. “What be your butt tattoo meaning?” He glanced at the wine-bottle with the cork popping out of it on his backside. “My cutie-mark means...eh...um...It means I like to make other ponies happy and I’m very good at it.” Swift coughed, covering her muzzle with her knee. “I’m really glad you finally came up with something to tell ponies when they ask that. It’s so much better than telling them what you did to pass math...” “Hey!” he squeaked, flicking his tail out to bop her on the nose with it. “Just ‘cause I got mine later than you doesn’t mean you get to make fun. Besides, I’ll have you know I got very good grades in all my classes during my senior year of high school and my cutie-mark helped considerably!” I listened to their repartee with a small smile, but gradually became aware that we’d begun to acquire a little crowd of hangers-on following along behind us. The further we went in the general direction of the Vivarium, the more seemed to be joining. They kept a respectful distance, but it was impossible to ignore the quickly growing crowd of ponies and a few other species keeping pace. I heard a whispered, ‘Do you think that’s him?’ followed by ‘Shouldn’t he be taller?’  Speeding up a little, I picked up Mags and set her on my back, then moved beside Scarlet. I jerked my head back at the group of sightseers. “Alright, what’s the story Stella’s been telling this lot?” “Them? Eh...nothing much, really. After the wanted posters began appearing, Mistress Stella decided you might need a bit of a public relations campaign. He simply encouraged a bit of dissemination of your recent activities. You must know you have some fans in the Stilettos, right?” he giggled, giving me a bump with his hip. “Boundaries, Scarlet. Why would I have ‘fans’? I thought we were trying to keep the thing with King Cosmo a secret.” “That hasn’t changed. However, you’ve made quite the impression on the Tortellini twins, Mistress Zeta, and Mistress Edina. More than that, we count many of the former members of the Church of the Lunar Passage amongst our numbers. Mistress Stella felt it would be prudent to let them know of your role in the downfall of Astral Skylark. Be glad I took us away from their particular squat. A pony named ‘Hymnal’ came up with a song that’s been very popular recently...” “Do I want to know?” Scarlet hummed a little tune, then sang in a surprisingly sweet tenor, “For I was low, in darkness and in pain! A false prophet, harken she is slain! Praise be to Justice, the Shining Shield, By his sword, Equestria be healed!” ---- One street over and we’d acquired a virtual parade. I was starting to get nervous, or rather, I’d been nervous for some time and I was starting to feel my urge to shoot something itching. They’d gone from curious tittering to taking pictures. Flash bulbs and I have a long, hate-filled history from my days on the force. A voice in the crowd called out, “Detective Dead Heart! Detective! Is it true you died?” That opened the floodgates. “Have you seen my mother on the other side?” “Where did Canterlot go?” “Can you really dodge bullets?” “Are you going to stop the Black Coats?” “Alright! Enough of this crap,” I snapped, grabbing Scarlet’s tail in my teeth and pulling him up short. Swinging around, I marched back towards the crowd that was taking up half the sidewalk, spilling into the street. It took them a moment to realize I wasn’t moving and they all gradually fell silent. Swift and Limerence stepped out of my way as I stomped past them. Drawing in a deep breath I shouted so those in the back could hear me. ---- I strolled casually along the boulevard, whistling. The crowd was still back there, but I was feeling better and they weren’t asking questions anymore. “Was it really necessary to be so...so graphic, Detective?” Scarlet asked warily, as he trudged along behind me. He shook his head a little. “I mean, all well and good reassuring them that you’re ‘on the case’, but I’ve been working for the Vivarium for a long time and I never heard anypony describe intercourse with an eye-socket or any of that other stuff in such vivid and colorful—” “It was necessary, Scarlet. Believe me. The alternative was gunfire.” ---- Three blocks over and the Vivarium finally came into sight. The building had changed considerably from the strange little temple-looking club tucked anonymously into a corner. Our crowd of followers dispersed as we neared a cordon of Stilettos keeping watch at the edges of the strip mall. Where once there were a few other businesses holding down the fort in the adjoining shops, the Vivarium had well and truly taken over the mall. Sandbags were piled up against the sides of the structure and the roof. They were also heaped around an antique gun emplacement where the gaudy dancing mare sign had been on our first few visits. All along the rooftop, Stilettos kept watch. Most were wearing bits and pieces of military hardware from before I was born. In the distance between the cordon and the actual building sat a green lorry with a simply gigantic metal box in the back bed, lights flashing on its sides and runs as big as my head glittering in the twilight; a spell core. A dozen huge cables wound out of a sewer cover beside it, hooking up at points on the machine itself. “How many favors did Stella have to call in to get ahold of that monster?” I asked, pausing to gawk at the spell core. Scarlet sighed as he looked at his home a little sadly. “The Mistress was here during the Crusades, remember? I’m sure he figured when the war ended it might be a good idea if somepony bought up all that stuff, even if it was just curiosities. It was going for pennies on the bit, too. I doubt he ever thought we might need a spell core that took twenty city blocks worth of power to operate.” “And the flight interdictor?” Limerence asked. “My father had one, I believe, but those are very tightly regulated in most parts of the world.” “I’m afraid I don’t know. When this all began, Mistress Stella put us under something called ‘dragon attack protocols’. You’ll have to ask the Mistress if you’re really curious,” he replied with a shrug. “Dragon attack protocols?!” Swift exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Really?” “It’s a thing from the war, kid. Mostly get in a hole that might or might not resist dragonfire, stick your head between your knees and kiss your flank goodbye.” “They’re a tad more complicated than that, Detective...but nopony has seen more than a couple of dragons. It’s strange,” Scarlet murmured, shaking his head, trotting towards the Vivarium’s heavily guarded main entrance. He touched his ear and added, “Miss Taxi is saying the bagels are getting cold.” I sped up a little and my companions had to canter to keep up. ---- Under the watchful eyes of the full might of the Stilettos, my friends and I went round the back of the building only to find more sandbags and more armed ponies facing the Bay. For some reason I’d never considered there might be quite so many Stilettos, but they were at least three generations of the children of Stella’s employees. Minox was there, minus his usual over-sized tux. He sat beside the maintenance door with a strange looking rifle propped against his shoulder that would have taken two ponies just to hold. He wore a shirt so tight it showed off every millimeter of his toned and muscled abdomen along with green camouflage patterned pants and a pair of dog-tags emblazoned with the Minotaur Republic’s seal; a bull’s horns, dripping blood. As we approached, Minox shoved himself up to his full two meters of height and swung the huge rifle across his back. “Ah! Detective! I hear zat joo survives many t’ings! Most pleased! I suzpected ve might be seeing joo soon! Miz Taxi iz not best pleazed joo left her with us.” “I’m assuming she’s the one responsible for making a whore house look like a military base?” I asked as Mags clambered up onto my shoulders so she could get a better look at the minotaur. He raised an eyebrow at the griffin chick clinging to my mane. “Joo brings strange friends, Mister Boiled. Still, Heh! Come! I takes joo to Miz Taxi. Scarlet! Stella vants joo to go make sure ze clinic is stocked. If it iz not, take a scavenging team to ze hospital.” “Another one?” Scarlet moaned. “Wandering around an abandoned hospital is the creepiest thing ever…” “No way. Trust me,” Swift muttered, a tiny shiver working its way down her back. “Wandering around sewers full of invisible pony-eating demons is definitely the creepiest thing ever.”         “Ahem, if I were to actually postulate a creepier scenario, it would have to be a conversation with a cybernetic monstrosity in the presence of a dead, rotting dragon wired into the wall,” Limerence murmured, tapping his chin.         I rubbed my chin. “Actually, the enchanted boiler room full of crazed, aggressive school supplies was actually right near the top of my list. Though Taxi’s father mutating—”         “Detective!” Scarlet whimpered, hunkering down on his chest with his hooves over his ears. “I would really appreciate it if would just never tell me about what you do when you aren’t here. It’s bad for my heart!” “Oh! Yeah, the still beating heart in the box! Now that...that was creepy...”         Scarlet bolted so fast he kicked up a cloud of dust.         ----         The old mining elevator rattled down into the cave network and a puff of damp air filled my lungs. I inhaled the familiar scent of old perfume, water from the bay, and rusting metalworks. Strange how something so unsettling had come to be a sign of safety and comfort. As we descended, Mags tugged on my ear for attention.         “Har’dy...where be we going?”         “A friend of mine lives here. He might be one of the scariest...things in the city, but he’s a sweetheart.”         Minox peered over his shoulder at me. “Joo be bringing ze little one? Ve do have ze creche…”         “I stays with my egg pony!” Mags snapped at him, then dropped onto the floor of the elevator, pulling my hat off as she went and ducking under my coat tails.         “You heard her,” I said with a quiet smile.         “Vhere joo get such a little thing?”         Stepping up to the gate across the elevator, I rested my hoof on it and stared out at the darkness. I could hear a great deal of activity from somewhere below us, but I couldn’t get a precise direction; voices, moving hooves, and power-tools. “I pulled her out of a pile of bodies. Long story and one I don’t particularly want to tell,” I replied, absently.         “A...a pile of bodies, Sir?” Swift choked, putting a hoof to her throat. “You didn’t tell me that!”         Had I left out that particular wrinkle? Yes, yes I had. Damn. A full briefing was in order, but other things were going to have to come first. “You remember when I told you not to come into the treasury room at the Moon Walk?”         Her lips twitched into a small frown. “Yeeeah…” Her ears slowly laid back and her eyes shot wide. “Oh my skies...you don’t mean...Sir—”         “Sykes didn’t tell you about that, huh?”         “He didn’t.” Taking a step closer, she gave me a suspicious look. “Sir...how much other stuff are you not telling me?”         A mental list started playing itself through my brain. It was a long list. Stella’s machinations, the realities of Juniper’s presence, the situation with M6, Slip Stitch’s machine. How many other things? I’d lost track. Some of it was items I just hadn’t had a chance to tell her, while other things were not wanting to get her hopes up.         “More than I should be keeping from my partner,” I murmured, putting a hoof across her shoulders and pulling her to my side. She was shaking, but quieted as I hugged her to me. “Tell you what. Tonight, after we handle things with Taxi, make some plans and get some intel, I’ll sit down and you can ask me a question. Any question. I promise, I’ll answer it completely and honestly, if I can.”         “You...you Pinkie Promise, Sir?” she asked.         I raised a hoof and put the other across my chest. “Cupcake in my eye and the whole nine yards, kid.”         That seemed to satisfy her. She settled on her haunches, peering out at the incredible goings-on over the lake.         As the elevator clanked at the bottom, I smelled sawdust, grease, and lots of living, sweating bodies.         “Minox, what’s been going on down here?” I asked, gesturing at the halls         “Miz Taxi, thinkz zat ve might need fall back.”         “Fall back? A fall back position?” Limerence asked. “Someplace to retreat to? Are you expecting to be attacked?”         “Ve are being prepared, yah? Miz Stella agrees. Here.” Minox reached into his pocket and held out a flashlight on a strap. I offered him my head and he fitted the light around my ears. “Joo go. I must guard. Joo know ze vay?”         “I know the way, Minox,” Swift said, giving me a look I couldn’t quite place. Disappointed? Maybe. “I was paying attention the last time we were down here, even if some of us have no sense of direction whatsoever.”         “Not my fault if space refuses to orient itself in a logical way,” I grunted.         “It does, Sir.”         “Says you.”         ----         The first group of Stilettos were down three halls and seemed to be lugging some kind of heavy digging machine in their collective magic. They paused for a moment as we passed by and one of them almost dropped her end of the machine as she stared, open muzzled. I hurried on and a little later the sound of grinding stone reached me.         The halls were no longer quite so dark as they had been, with gem-lights hanging every few meters, but there were still a few sections that weren’t perfectly lit so the torch came in handy. Groups of ponies, zebras, and griffins were moving about armed with shovels, lamps, and diagrams. As we went by each one stopped what they were doing and followed us with their eyes, muttering back and forth to each other.         I was getting seriously tired of the celebrity shtick. At one junction, I peered into one of the work spaces to see a collection of bunk beds stacked against a wall, while at another, two mares with clip-boards were taking inventory of giant crates that’d been heaped in a corner.         “What is Stella planning?” I asked, aloud to nopony in particular.         “Considering the Vivarium itself is underground, I suspect he is expanding in expectation of more ponies. More than a few it would seem. For an operation only a week old this is...awfully well organized,” Limerence mused. “I would imagine this has been in the works for some time.”         “We’re here, I think,” Swift said as we came to another corner. A beam of light shone down the adjoining hall and there were dozens of voices coming from nearby.         “Ah! Detective! My sweet Detective! Do come in!” a loud, effeminate voice called from inside.         “What be that?” Mags wanted to know.         “Do you have to pee?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. She shook her head. “Good. I don’t need to wash my coat again this week.”         Composing myself into the picture of casual dignity, I strolled around the corner into Stella’s lair. The stone door was open wide and a great crowd of ponies was inside. They’d come to a stop at Stella’s call and each and every one was watching as I trundled in, Swift and Limerence at my flanks and Mags hanging off my back.         The lair had changed since last I was there. Gone were the catwalks and the artworks, replaced with a gigantic platform of metal and linoleum. It would have taken a dozen unicorns a few hours to assemble and it wasn’t pretty, but over the vast lake a sort of open-air room had been composed. Great pillars sank down into the water made of steel beams probably scavenged from a construction site, holding the whole construct up. A short set of stairs hacked together out of railroad ties lead up to the platform where the crowd stood, waiting for us. Behind them, sprawled on his ridiculous oversized fainting couch/throne, the serpent himself was decked out in his finest: a pink frock the size of a parachute, a pair of the most ridiculously oversized sunglasses known to ponykind, and a pencil taller than I tucked behind one fluke. He had a silly looking construction hat with the words ‘dragon at work’ painted on the side. I started up the steps and the crowd broke on either side. Their expressions ranged from fear to admiration and everything in between, but as I moved ahead they stepped back. The celebrity shtick was going to get old quick, but it did have certain pleasures. “E-egg p-pony...th-that’s a d-d-dragon…” Mags muttered in my ear. "I be ch-changing my mind...I have to p-pee..." “Just hold it, kid,” I chuckled. “Scary, yes. Dangerous? Probably not. Not unless you make snide comments about his makeup.” Ahead, there was a giant felt-covered table in the middle of the crowd of ponies. It was formerly a pool table, but was being used as an impromptu war-planner, piled with paper, ammunition, guns, and a basket of steaming bagels. Behind the bagels sat a mare, her eyes glistening with tears and one foreleg in a green plaster cast. Taxi. A pony doesn’t realize how much they miss someone until they’ve climbed up one side of a minor apocalypse and down the other. I’d missed my driver. She’s always been there, keeping me solid when everything is coming down around my ears.         She was smiling, but it was one of those tight smiles that could turn into a murder attempt at any moment. Her cast had more names on it than I could count and she was looking healthy enough, though her mane hadn’t been brushed in a couple of days and she had bags under her eyes. Stella looked back and forth between the two of us, then addressed the crowd in a soft voice that still managed to echo around the chamber. “My dear friends, I think our meeting is at an end. Proceed with the work. Make sure to shore up numbers six through eight. You have Miss Taxi’s plans and if you have any questions, please speak to Scarlet.” Everypony glanced at one another, then back to Stella. He rolled his great golden eyes and waved them away with one claw. “Yes, yes, dismissed, my dears. Shoo!” With a couple of chuckles in the crowd, the Stilettos began to file out, most of them splitting to move around us as they headed through the door we’d just come in. A few moved off into a freshly dug passage to one side and down another set of steps. That left me along with my ward, librarian, partner, the dragon, and Taxi. Sweet Shine. My best friend. She was the pony who’d hauled me out of the deepest pit I’d ever fallen into. She’d had my back, even when she thought I was dead. She was my rock. She was also a mare with extensive martial arts skills, a love of exotic weaponry, and a history of violent outbursts who I’d dodged informing that Canterlot vanished, then dumped in a heavily guarded whore house with two broken legs while I rode off into the sunset without telling her where I’d be.