//------------------------------//
// Arrival 
// Story: After the Storm 
// by Jay911 
//------------------------------//

OCTOBER 13, 2015
4:54 PM

I stood on the shore of the lake, watching the small shape on the horizon. My suspicions had been right, and I'd confirmed them with a flight an hour or so ago, but I didn't interfere with the results of my search, instead staying well clear and, as far as I knew, so far undetected.
She - if this was the pony I had heard on the radio - was in an off-yellow rubber raft, working oars with her forelegs. That was part of the reason I stayed back - she wouldn't have been able to move the boat if my weight was in it too, from all appearances, and I doubted I could pick up her and her big bag of whatever-it-was she was carrying, and take her to shore.
So I stood on the lakeshore, bracing against the cool wind coming across the lake, thankful for my new scarf, which was all I really needed to keep myself comfortable, even in this cooling weather.
Technically, I wasn't in Pickering, since I was on the other side of Duffins Creek. It was Ajax this far east.
Lucky she's this close at all, I mused. If my guess at where she started off from was correct, she could very well have ended up anywhere a couple dozen miles up the shoreline, far away from anybody.
Finally, as she got within about a hundred yards of shore, I hopped up into the sky and called out, "Hello the boat! Take a breather, I'll bring you in."
The teal-maned pony swung her head around to seek out the source of my voice. Seeing me, she let her sea-blue hooves settle to her 'lap', the oars hanging out of the water, and flopped back to lie against the bow.
I flew up and grabbed the rope on one end of the boat in my teeth, then flew backwards until I felt the boat grind against the rocks.
The pony lay there panting for a bit; once she sat up a few moments later, I helped her out of the dinghy. "You okay?" I asked.
"I think I'll be all right," she said, letting her bags drop to the sand. "Thanks." She eyed me. "You the voice from Ponytown?"
I nodded. "Sudden Storm," I said. "Welcome. Well, we've still got a couple miles or so to go, but we can take care of that, no problem."
"Give me a few minutes for my legs to feel up to it," she said, shaking them to get sensation in them, one at a time. On her flanks was a symbol that looked like a wrench working a bolt on a complex machine/gear combination. "Thanks for being here, by the way."
"No problem," I said with a smile, with a leading tone.
She picked up on it. "Morgan," she said, a faint smile on her muzzle.
"Hi, Morgan. You can call me Stormy," I said, offering a hoof.
She rolled her eyes. "Let's get this out of the way," she muttered, then spoke up. "My last name is Freeman."
"Freem... oh!" I blinked.
"Yeah," she said.
I paused for what felt like the longest time. "Are you the-"
"No," she answered abruptly.
"Okay," I said, holding my hoof up in a defensive posture. "Stranger things have happened." I let a period of time pass again. "Got a brother named Gord-"
"Ahh, nope, haven't heard that one before either," she said coolly, with a flat expression.
"Sorry," I said, then smiled again. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah," she nodded, finishing stretching. "Lead on."
"Are you up for the walk, or do you want me to call for a vehicle?"
"A vehicle?" she echoed, sounding surprised. "Nah, I'm fine if you are."
"Fair enough," I smiled. "This way."
We walked west through the little park that surrounded the creek at its junction with the lake. I'd flown over this on my way out here, of course, but in deference to my earth pony guest, I chose to stay on the ground for the return trip.
"So, where did you come from?" I asked after a moment.
"Ithaca, upstate," she responded. "New York," she clarified after a beat, in case I wasn't familiar with 'upstate'.
I knew where Ithaca was, though, and brightened. "Near Watkins Glen," I said, thinking of the legendary race track there. "Not a bad hike."
She nodded. "Took me a little over four... well, five and a half days if you count the lake."
"Did you row non-stop?" I asked, my turn to be surprised.
"Yup," she said. "Seem to have a lot more stamina in this form."
"Right, earth pony," I said aloud, nodding.
"'Earth pony'?" she queried, an eyebrow quirked upwards.
"I'll explain when we get you settled and with the others," I told her. "Mind if I ask, though, what sent you our way? Law of averages says you should have encountered ten times as many ponies on your side of the border."
Her expression darkened and her eyes darted away. "Yeah. That's the thing." She paused for a moment. "Well, I didn't so much 'encounter' them as hear them. On the radio. There's other places down there, in the cit- I mean, New York City, and Boston, and places like that. But what I heard didn't sound like they were places you'd wanna be."
"Why's that?" I asked as we continued along, going around a fence and getting back into Pickering proper, continuing on our way.
"Sickness, for one thing," Morgan said. "Supposedly there's some kind of illness burning through New York right now. Last I heard, they're stumped - and nobody knows if it's because... 'ponies'... don't respond to human-type treatments, or the sickness is something that 'ponies' aren't supposed to get. You know, a kind of War of the Worlds thing."
I nodded, understanding the parallel. "That's just one thing?"
She looked even more put off than before, if that was possible. "Rumors... and that's all they are as far as I know, but I figure it's better to be safe... rumors that there's some kind of bad mojo going on in some of the bigger encampments in cities. I don't even know how to describe it properly, but what I've heard makes it sound like the more people... or 'ponies'... that get together, the worse off it is. Bad apples spoilin' the bunch and all that. Probably an obvious result if you put a bunch of people all together in a lawless society. The anarchists and bad guys see places they can lord over, and you have Mad Max, pony style." She looked over at me. "When I heard you guys, the radio broadcasts I mean, they were full of hope and positive energy, if you'll excuse the borderline hippie-talk for a sec. And, don't take this the wrong way, but you're a smaller group. You don't have the problems that these encampments with two or three hundred people are seeing - at least, per the stories I've heard. And with winter on the way and having cleaned out just about all the food left in Tompkins County, I figured it was time to nope on out of there and make my way to a better place. And your place fit that bill."
I almost felt teary-eyed at the compliments paid to Ponytown, until she made me snicker with the 'nope on out of there' slang. "Well, we're happy to take you in," I smiled broadly. "And it sounds like we can learn as much from you about the state of the northeastern US as you can from us about how we got to be like this."
"Yeah, you kinda hinted at that," she said, as we continued to walk on. "I'm interested in hearing about it."
"I keep wanting to start this off saying 'you might find this hard to believe', but then I remember I'm a pegasus telling it to an earth pony or a unicorn when I say that," I began with a smirk.
"Unicorn?" she echoed, eyeing my wings as if for the first time.
"That's our three main... races, I guess," I said. "Let me explain. Are you familiar with the concept of parallel universes?"

I led Morgan into the common area when we got back to Ponytown. I'd radioed ahead, so everypony was present and a meal was almost ready.
"Hey, everypony," I called out, leading Morgan in. "This is Morgan, from Ithaca, New York. Morgan, this is everybody." I named people as I gestured to them, and greetings were exchanged.
"Morgan, if you have a seat, supper's about to be served. I have a quick radio broadcast to record, but I'll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes. Okay?"
"Thanks," she nodded with a smile, and flopped down beside the table. Swift waved me away to my radio shack and took over the hostess duties.
By the time I returned, the whole lot were chattering and sharing stories. Sitting down, I was pleased to see that Morgan was hitting it off well with the rest of the group.
"You didn't tell me we were hosting a celebrity," Swift smirked at me as I set into my meal. I glanced up at Morgan.
She held up a hoof. "If I had fingers, I'd be holding up four, for the number of cracks so far." Then she offered a smile, to indicate that there was no hard feelings.
"From experience, they take a little bit to get it out of their system, but it just means they love ya," I told her.
"It's okay," she shrugged. "Twenty-nine years on this Earth, I'm used to it by now."
"What did you do before the Event, if I may ask?" Serge spoke up.
"Aircraft mechanic," she said. "Not in high demand right now."
"We'll find something for you to do," Jeff said. "Though of course, you can take a few days if you're spent from your journey."
She looked as if she was about to shake her head, then changed her mind. "Maybe a day, but I'm not here to freeload," she said.
"Take whatever time you need," Jeff insisted. "Though you may be more helpful than you think. Between you, me, and Serge, we need to figure out some important mechanical bits before winter really comes calling."
"Like what?" she queried.
Serge spoke again. "Water pumping and filtration, but we might have to wait 'til spring if it starts to go below zero soon. I don't imagine we can lay pipe or hose from the lake and keep it from freezing. Not this year anyway."
"If that doesn't work, we'll organize ponies to go try to find more bottled supply," Karin said. "There must be some places we haven't picked clean yet."
"You've got power here," Morgan observed. "Couldn't you provide power to the pumping stations and treatment plant in town?"
"I'm not sure we can generate enough power to run the plant," Jeff countered. "We can look at it, though."
"Another thing we need to make happen pretty soon is heat, for in here," Serge pointed out. "The power is probably enough to allow us to use space heaters. We maybe could even install some infrared bars and forced-air stuff, but the whole building is not gonna be possible unless we figure something out."
Swift turned to me. "You lived in this area before Ponification. Know anything about what was used here?"
I shrugged. "We had an electric furnace and fireplaces in my house. I think some places have natural gas, but this mall was built in the seventies. It could use oil burners for all I know."
"Maybe we should try and find out after supper," Jeff suggested.
"I'm up for it." I looked to Morgan. "Like we said earlier, you're welcome to rest and relax."
"I'll be taking you up on that, for just tomorrow," she reiterated. "I don't intend to lounge around and do nothing."
"Trust me," Jenn spoke up. "First of all, there's plenty of work to go around. And they figured out jobs for me and my husband, a homemaker and a lawyer. You'll fit in just fine."

About an hour later, we - meaning Jeff, Serge, Rich, and me - were looking through the various mechanical rooms to try to find a central heating system.
"Do we know what we're looking for? I mean, will we know it when we find it?" Rich asked.
Serge turned to face him, his muzzle bathed in the blue glow of Rich's horn, lighting our way through the darkened industrial space. "Know what a furnace looks like?" he smirked.
"Just asking," Rich shrugged, with a faint smile.
"Could be a furnace, could be a boiler," Jeff said. "That might even be more likely given the building's age." He explained the size and shape of a boiler vessel.
"That's sounding like it needs a constant water supply," Rich said, his face forming a frown.
"Bringing us back to our other issue, yeah," I agreed. "If that's the case, we'll have to sort that out before winter, regardless of the conditions."
"There's nothing in here," Jeff said. "Let's move on to the next one."

About fifteen rooms later, without any substantial reward, we stood in the middle of the food court, at a loss.
"These places must have gas stoves and ovens," Rich said, indicating the dormant restaurants.
Jeff shook his head. "Gas service is out. It needs pumping stations just like water. Besides, you don't want to run gas-burning appliances without ventilation fans running - we'll all be dead of carbon monoxide poisoning in a matter of days, if not hours."
"Unless there's a basement hidden behind a secret door," Serge said, "either we missed it, or they're doing something else."
Jeff tapped his forehead with a hoof. "Think, fool," he muttered to himself. "How do you heat a million-square-foot space with no central heating." He looked up through the open balcony over the food court, to the main floor of the mall, and repeated himself. "How do you get enough heat to keep a shopping mall full of people war..."
He blinked.
"Rich," he said after a second, with a tired voice. "Aim your light up."
"Hein?" the Francophone pony said, looking in the same direction.
The four of us ended up looking at a ceiling full of darkened skylights.
"They don't use central heating," Jeff said. "I should have realized this before. It's way too costly to pump hot air into a space this big. They use nature and the laws of physics to their advantage."
I resisted cracking about us inhabitants of the new reality making physics our bitch, and waited for Jeff to explain. Serge was less patient, and essentially demanded he spit it out.
"Sunlight warms the air through all the skylights in the building," Jeff said, indicating the rows of glass that nearly completely covered the main corridors' ceilings. "I'm betting they relied on body heat and maybe even electrical appliances and lights to make up the rest."
"That sounds like bad news for us," I said, "especially since we decided to switch to LED lighting to reduce power consumption, which also reduces heat output."
Jeff shrugged, then wiggled a hoof in a mimic of the hand-tilt motion he might have used pre-Ponification. "Not sure yet. It's true there's not thousands or even hundreds of people in the mall to give off heat, and our lights definitely run cooler. But we also haven't been running computers, televisions, and other stuff that'd warm spaces up. We may have to go the space heater route - that and turn on all the equipment we can, to generate some additional heat. That'll require some more solar and wind - we'll have to probably start using the south-facing wall of the mall, since the roof is pretty much covered with panels. And we'll have to make sure both the panels and the skylights stay clean and clear of snow and debris, so they get the most sun."
"Understood," I said.
"And make the building air-tight, or at least better than it is now," he added. "That broken door we use as our entrance has to go."
"Come to think of it, when you went into a mall pre-Event, there were always heaters or air conditioners running full-blast in the alcoves," Serge realized aloud.
Jeff nodded. "That's probably the only genuine heating actually done in the building, normally."
"Do we tell them the news when we get back?" Rich asked.
"No need to tell people there's no heat in the place," Jeff insisted. "I don't want to incite panic. We'll tell them we have ideas we have to work on."
"Works for me," I said.
"One more thing, semi-related," he said, looking at me. "And we'll need your help."
"What's that?"
He gestured skyward again, and all four of us looked up once more. Just below the skylight level, every dozen meters or so, was a sculpted plant pot built into the top/side of a support column, with dead plants hanging from them.
"It didn't occur to me until we looked up at the skylights," Jeff said, "but those plants are supposed to be keeping the air fresh in here. We let them go, primarily because I didn't even know they were there. Once we button the place up, with the auto garage and the loading dock and everything all not left open all the time, the plants will be essential to keeping the air from going stale. Karin, Jenn, and I will get some new plants to put up there, but we'll need you to get them up there."
"Gotcha," I nodded.
With that, we all returned back to the common area. Morgan was chatting with the ladies and Greg, and I wanted to get my thoughts on the tasks at hand written down, so I went over to the radio shack straight away.
Warm over here, I realized for probably the first time. All the radios and the laptop put out some decent warmth. I wondered if we'd all be huddled around when I did broadcasts in the dead of winter, ponies holding their hooves against the power supplies.
After I finished typing out my ideas, I sensed a presence beside me and turned to see Randy standing on the steps. "Oh! Hi," I said. "How's it goin'?"
"Fine," he said. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Making some plans for work we need to do before winter sets in," I said. "What're you still up for? Isn't it almost ten?"
"I have to admit I brought him over here," Serge said, coming up the stairs behind him. "Got a couple of minutes?" he asked.
"Sure," I said, thinking I knew where this was going.
"We're ready for lessons, whenever you are."
"Right," I winced. "About that. I'm honestly not trying to skip out on you guys, but I... well, I'm not sure where to begin."
"What do you mean?" Randy asked.
"I don't know... I don't know how to teach you," I said with an apologetic look. "I can't figure out how you're supposed to start flying. It's not as simple as flapping really hard. Trust me, I tried that, and it didn't work. I don't even really know how I went from not flying to flying. I just ... did."
Serge said, "I think you're being too hard on yourself."
"I'm sorry," I said, "I just can't hold up my end of the promi-"
He shook his head, interrupting me. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe that's not your problem to solve?"
"What do you mean?" I countered. "Of course it's my problem. How can I teach-"
He cut me off again. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd seen you flying before. I didn't know you couldn't fly." He looked at Randy. "Doesn't she fly?"
"I've seen her fly," Randy nodded, looking up at the pony towering over him, then back to me with a smile.
Serge looked back at me. "You don't need to understand it."
"How do I teach you without understanding it?" I finally got out.
"When you explained that thing you're doing with the computer and the radio, and handed out all these radios, you didn't need to teach us about electromagnetic theory or what happens when we press the talk button. You just handed out radios and that was that."
I stood there listening, getting an idea of what he was saying.
"We'll accomplish the basics the same way you did it. The part we want you to show us is how to use the skill once we get it figured out."
"Yeah!" Randy smiled.
After a moment, I had to allow myself a smile as well. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry, guys. I wasn't thinking it through all the way. We'll get started in the morning. Okay?"
"Okay!" Randy enthused, hopping up and down. Serge smiled and nodded.
"C'mon, little guy. Like Stormy said, you should be in bed by now."
Randy bid farewell and hopped up on Serge's back as the big pony turned around and descended the stairs. I waved to them both, and turned back to the computer.
It'll wait, I decided a moment later. Sleep is a good idea.
With that, I closed the laptop lid, then descended the stairs and headed for my room.

At ten o'clock the next morning, the chill was just coming out of the air as I stood up on the roof and surveyed the area. It was good enough to fly, at least for me; the others might not get any lift with the thin, cool air.
Looking out at the lake and its wind-driven rippling surface drew me back to a song from my youth, which once I thought of it, would stick in my head all day. And farther below, Lake Ontario takes in what Lake Erie can send her.
"On three," I heard somepony whisper as they came up the stairs. "One, two..."
"Good morning, Miss Storm," two voices droned facetiously. I turned around to see Serge and Randy, both grinning and carrying goggles hung limply around their necks. The larger white pegasus offered me an apple, which I took with a laugh.
"Thanks," I said. "No special favors, though." I fiddled with my scarf, which had flapped around into my face when I turned. "I didn't think it was going to stay this cold this late or I'd've held ground school indoors. It's up to you two, though."
"Let's just get on with it," Serge said, and Randy nodded vigorously.
"Okay then," I said. "Spread wide and face one another."
When they did, I started pointing out primary feathers, secondaries, coverts, and all the other components and structures of the wing. I also explained the need for proper alignment and cleanliness. "Truth is, you've probably been preening subconsciously, or at least without deliberate intent to. Kinda like how you like your mane to part in one particular way. Having your feathers aligned properly just feels right."
Randy wiggled a hoof in the air, continuing to do so long after I shifted my gaze to him. "Yes, Randy?" I finally played along.
"How come we don't get tickled by our feathers?"
I actually had to come to a complete stop and re-kick-start my brain on that one. "Ever try to tickle yourself before Ponification happened?"
"Yeah..."
"Ever succeed?"
"No."
"That's why." And don't call me out on how that's not an answer, I silently pleaded.

After 'ground school' was done, we did indeed try getting them both off the ground. Or roof, technically speaking. Neither were successful, but surprisingly, Randy was the least unsuccessful of the two. I could tell that he was very close to breaking free the surly bonds; both had generated more than enough lift (at least, based on comparisons to my own efforts), but there was still something missing.
Undaunted, they both thanked me for the lesson, and I gave Randy a quick zip around the area in his harness. (Serge wouldn't fit it, and was plenty content to wait to fly solo.)
"Looks real dark over there," the colt called out over the rush of air while we were doing climbs and dives over the lake. I followed his gesturing hoof to a strong, dusky wall of cloud far west down the lakeshore, possibly on the other side of the city, but certainly coming our way.
"Yeah," I agreed. "We'd better check the weather station when we get inside."
That's where we went shortly thereafter. Randy was standing on my shoulder blades looking around my neck as I studied the screen.
"Wow," I murmured. "Aren't you an ugly one."
"Bad news?" Serge asked as he came up behind us.
"Got a good storm coming in," I said, pointing to the screen. "From the looks of it outside and what the screen here is saying, it could be a nasty afternoon."
"Nasty as in bring-the-crops-in nasty?"
"This might be the end of our crop-growing season," I said, "if I'm reading this right. I'm no weatherpony... well, I guess in a way I am... but I'm not schooled in reading every little bit of data on this screen. If I'm reading it right, though, we've got all kinds of snow headed our way."
"I'll go pass on the good news," Serge said, and headed towards the exit.
"That didn't sound like it was good news," Randy suggested from above my head.
"It's not, little guy," I said. "Serge was being sarcastic. I know winter's probably been fun for you in years past, but it's gonna be real serious this year. You know how in the past there were snow plows and guys driving little sidewalk sweepers and stuff like that?"
"Yeah," he said as I began to head to the back room. "We don't have any of that anymore, right?"
"Exactly," I said. "Same with groceries. Everything we eat and drink comes from right here. There's no more going to the store to get a cart full of stuff brought in from all over the world. If we want something to eat, we need to make it ourselves."
"Are we gonna be okay for the winter if we can't grow any more?" he asked.
I nodded while I was rooting around in one of the junk piles in the back room. "We've got enough food and water," I said, "stored inside, so it's not going to freeze or die on the vine or anything like that. And the chickens are in an insulated hutch, so they're OK."
"What about the cows?"
"Cows live outdoors year-round. I'm gonna bet somepony's gonna go check on them before the day's out, though, to make sure they have adequate shelter. They don't like to be snowed on just like anybody else."
I found what I was looking for - a snow shovel - and tossed it onto the floor. I continued to search for its partner, and Randy, picking up the idea, hopped down and helped me.
"So why does every...'pony'," Randy said, trying out the new vernacular, "seem so scared?"
"It's just that we've never had to do this on our own before," I said, trying to sound upbeat. "I don't know that I'd say we're scared. How did you feel when you were flapping your wings up there today, trying to take off? Just before I said to stop?"
Randy searched for the word just as hard as he searched for the snow shovel. "Idunno," he said.
"Do you know what 'anxious' means?"
"No," he admitted.
I found a pair of push brooms and set them aside. "Not as bad as scared, but more than, say, just 'aware' of something. Like when you were trying to fly. I bet you were really excited, but not sure what you'd do if you got it to work, right?"
"Uh-huh," he nodded.
"Anxious," I repeated.
"I got it!" he said, and I was surprised at his enthusiasm, until he bent down and hauled a snow shovel up from the pile, grinning around the handle clamped in his jaws.
"Awesome," I said, holding out a hoof for a bump.
He spat the shovel out in the small pile I'd made. "What are we doing with these?" he asked.
"The brooms stay here, over by the stairs," I said. "That's for cleaning off the solar cells and the skylights up on the roof. One shovel goes out to the front door, so we can scrape away a place there. The other shovel we need to take to the chicken hutch and leave it inside there, so we can clean off the area around it when we need to work there."
"Yes ma'am!" he saluted me, grabbing the brooms in his mouth and hurtling towards the stairs, as I laughed.

By 4:30 PM, the lot of us were clustered inside the common area, looking out through the windows as big, fat, wet flakes cascaded down around us from all directions.
"Cows are good?" Jeff asked Karin.
"Cows are good," she acknowledged. "That lean-to over the water troughs is just enough room."
"Were there any crops still in the garden?" Swift wanted to know.
"Nothing to worry about," Jeff said. "Nothing that won't weather a little chill. We were anticipating this."
"Morgan helped me get all the vehicles inside and buttoned up," Serge said. "Did you get everything you wanted from the library?" he said to Greg.
"I guess so," he shrugged. "If not, it'll have to wait until this lets up."
"The way it's comin' down, it may not let up til March," Swift said, glancing at me. Suddenly, every pair of eyes in the room was turned my direction.
"Gah," I said, flinching. "What? I can try, but sometimes it's wise to let nature take its course."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Now you want to take the sensible route?" She smirked afterward, letting me know it was in jest.
"That's a lotta cloud and precip to move," I said, pointing a hoof at the sky. "I'll take a look at it tomorrow. But right now I think we just let it run its course."
Jenn stood up suddenly. "I don't know about the rest of you," she said, "but I'm feeling like it's time for hot chocolate." She made a beeline for the kitchen, followed by at least a half-a-dozen other ponies.
I lingered at the windows for a few more moments, trying unsuccessfully to size up my 'opponent' through the glass. It didn't work; in order to know just what the storm cell over us had in store, I'd need to stare it right in the face, with nothing between it and me.
That would wait for tomorrow.