//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8: Parents 
// Story: Desert Water 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

	The rain rolled down the glass of the automobile’s windows, and lightning lit the vastness of the desert in the darkness. The storm was starting to move on, and the rain was finally slowing, but outside still looked wet and dirty. 
Spoiled Rich sighed, annoyed, and leaned back into her seat. 
“Those Pegasi,” she said. “They always have the absolute WORST timing. They just couldn’t wait just a few more minutes?” 
She turned back to her husband, who was once again ashen and greenish, his eyes fixed directly ahead as the car trundled through the empty, wet roads. Occasionally, the tires would slip just slightly, and he would grab onto the seat with tremendous vigor.
“Dear,” said Spoiled Rich, pulling one of Filthy Rich’s hooves off of the fabric, “you’re stressing the upholstery.” 
“Sorry,” he said. 
Spoiled Rich looked back out the window, and, seeing nothing she liked, decided to yell at the driver. 
“Driving Glove!” she said to the unicorn in the front. “Can’t you keep the ride any smoother? And do tell me you are competent enough to make this vehicle go the PROPER speed?”
“I can do one or the other, ma’am,” said the highly stressed unicorn. “But the road is slick…badly maintained, I’m afraid.”
“Fine,” said Spoiled Rich in a huff. She turned back to her husband. He did not seem to be in any condition for conversation, but Spoiled Rich needed something to do. 
She made herself comfortable. “That party,” she said, sighing. “Dreadful, wasn’t it?”
“I thought it was…okay,” said Filthy Rich, producing yet another bottle of Pony-Bismol and drinking much of it. 
“Okay? Darling, are you BLIND? Not one of those Pegasi came by their money honestly! I’m sure that at least half of them were in the mafia- -the mafia, Filthy! And the rest were no doubt gamblers…and did you see what they were wearing? Those ridiculous hats and- -and- -bolo ties! The audacity!”
“But I like bolo ties…”
“Don’t joke about that, Filthy. They are hideous. And the mares…oh, it makes me sick just thinking about them. No sense of fashion here, absolutely no class…but what would I expect from a bunch of Pegasi? They’re really no better than…than…pigeons!” She sighed, savoring her anger at ponies that had the audacity to fly when she could not. “At least that boring meeting you were supposed to attend was canceled. The shows at least made this trip slightly less negative. Even if you were ogling the dancers…”
“I was not ogling,” said Filthy, defensive despite his nausea. “I paid good money for that show, so I was going to watch it as closely as possible! And you know I only have eyes for you, Spoiled!”
“Oh,” said Spoiled Rich, giggling like a schoolfilly. “So you didn’t just marry me for my daddy’s money, then?”
The wide-eyed expression on Filthy Rich’s face indicated that he was not sure if that was a trick question. 
Spoiled Rich sighed. “It will be nice to get back to a building that we own, though. I just want to sit back and relax. Drink some expensive cider, have some expensive chocolates…and not have to get them myself. I’m so glad you sent for the servants, dear.”
Filthy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t send for the servants- -I thought you did!”
They both stared wide eyed at each other- -and then burst into laughter. 
“Oh, my,” said Filthy Rich, his mirth momentarily outweighing his carsickness. “We really  dropped the ball there, didn’t we, Spoiled?”
“Oh, the look that must have been on Diamond Tiara’s face!”
Filthy suddenly stopped laughing and looked concerned. “That’s right…we just left our daughter at that big house all alone…”
“Oh, come now,” said Spoiled. “When I was her age, I was left alone in a house at least twice that size for weeks on end. Perhaps seeing how the lesser half has to live will teach her to appreciate the reason why we MUST maintain our station. And besides, she has that bohemian child with her…”
“Silver Spoon?”
“Yes, her.” Spoiled sighed. “I wish our daughter could be more like her…”
“You mean more academic?”
“I mean thinner. And prettier. I mean, ugh…well, at least she didn’t inherit your color…” 
Filthy Rich sighed. He did not want to get into the argument about how he should bleach his coat white yet again, especially when he was on the verge of doing something much worse to the upholstery than stretching it. 
“Besides,” said Spoiled Rich. “This house is literally nowhere. What could possibly happen to her over the course of two days?”
Filthy Rich chuckled humorlessly, in part because he felt terrible from being in the car, and in part because he felt terrible about leaving his only daughter alone in a big, empty old house. Of course, he knew that his wife was right- -she always was. 
The car started to slow, and then turned into the long driveway of the house. The car bumped and shook on the rocky, unmaintained road. At several points the tires got stuck in the mud, but Driving Glove managed to keep them moving. 
Then, finally, they came to a stop. Driving Glove got out, moving around to open the door to let his employers our, but Filthy Rich beat him to it, jumping out of the car and gasping deeply the fresh, moist air. He made a mental note to ensure that he never, ever road in one of those horrible contraptions again. 
Spoiled Rich stepped out of the car, and Driving Glove held an umbrella in his magic over her. The rain had mostly stopped, though. The Pegasus-driven storm was now receding into the distance, but a wake of clouds still remained, dying the morning sky deep gray and producing an annoying drizzle. 
“Filthy…” said Spoiled, looking around their front yard. “Did we…did we hire a gardener?”
“What? No,” he said, taking a few more breaths to hold down his lunch. “Why would we need a gardener in a dess…”
Then he looked up and saw them. Throughout the front yard of his newly acquired house were hundreds if not thousands of cacti of every shape and size. All were swollen to the point of obesity, their green bodies turbid with water and covered in seemingly infinite flowers of every color. 
What was strange, though, was not the plants themselves but their location. Filthy Rich could have sworn that they had not been there when he had left. 
“Well that’s strange,” he said, running his hoof across the closest of the trees. Its surface was smooth and without even a trace of spinage, covered instead in a pleasant fine down. “I don’t remember these.”
“Well,” said Spoiled Rich. “They certainly are planted poorly. But I admit that these flowers are…impressive.” She leaned close to one and smelled deeply- -only to have her eyes widen as she pulled back coughing loudly. “Sweet Celestia!” she cried. “They smell HORRIBLE!”
“Really?” said Filthy Rich, leaning into a head-sized blood-red flower and smelling slightly. He choked at the smell and felt his eyes water. It smelled like something that had been left to rot for a long, long time. 
He turned around and knew that he was about to be chastised by his wife for smelling something that she had told him was disgusting- -but before either of them could speak, they heard a sound coming from the distance on the damp air: the sound of fillies screaming. 
Filthy Rich and Spoiled Rich looked at each other wide eyed, and then broke into a gallop. The house was large- -almost impossibly large, Filthy Rich finally realized- -but they moved quickly toward the sound of their daughter’s voice. 
It only took minutes to reach the source of the sound. There, the plants had somehow grown into a vast circle. As Filthy Rich got closer, he realized that their forms were different from the trees and cacti in the front of the house. It was almost chilling how much they looked like ponies, caught half-step approaching toward the center of the circle, their feet now bound to the ground by thick masses of roots and their lush bodies festooned with beautiful but foul-smelling blooms. 
Then they reached the center, and saw that the two fillies were not in fact screaming. They were instead laughing and dancing in the mud and rain, hardly noticing how dirty they were getting. 
“Diamond Tiara!” cried Spoiled Rich, her windedness immediately vanishing at the sight of her daughter playing in the mud like a common pony. “What are you doing out here in this MUD?! In the RAIN?! And…and what are you WEARING?”
Filthy Rich himself actually wondered why his daughter was dressed in something that looked more like something out of an old science fiction movie than any clothes that a pony of her upbringing would even consider wearing, or why Silver Spoon was wearing a similar version.
Then, suddenly, Spoiled Rich screamed and reared on her hind legs, pointing. 
“FILTHY! It’s a BUG! A MONSTER! Squash it squash it squash it SQUASH IT!”
Filthy Rich looked to where his wife was pointing and gasped when he saw a low-set, sharp toothed monster standing next to his daughter. 
“Diamond Tiara, get away from it!” he said, racing forward and attempting to stomp the creature into oblivion. 
Whatever it was, it was fast. As Filthy Rich brought his hooves down to crush it, it sprinted between his legs, attempting to escape and causing Spoiled Rich to release another blood-curdling scream of disgusted horror. 
“Dad, stop!” cried Diamond Tiara in a panic.
“Mr. Rich, no!”
“Please no steppy!” cried the monster as Filthy Rich chased it down. 
“Don’t worry, girls!” he cried. “I may be rich, but I know how to smash a bug!” 
The creature rapidly ascended a nearby spineless cactus, clinging to the top. Its glossy, moist wings vibrated mockingly, releasing a cicada-like screech. Filthy Rich’s eyes narrowed, and he picked up a strangely spiny stick in his mouth and slammed it into the creature’s side, knocking it free from the cactus with a cry. It landed on the ground in an inverted position and flailed its grotesque, greenish limbs trying to right itself. 
“Don’t worry,” said Filthy Rich, lifting his hoof over the creature. “This thing won’t bother us anymore!” 
The air was suddenly split by two strange sounds, like a twin pair of electrical discharges. 
“I would not do that, if I were you,” said the figure standing inches from Filthy Rich’s right. His hoof froze, and he looked down at the creature beside him: a much larger version of the monster he was about to crush, its body clad in a rag-like cloak over hard black armor. 

Diamond Tiara looked up at the two figures that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. She recognized them both as morlocks, but they were much larger than Pick. One had appeared beside Diamond Tiara’s father, and from the way she had spoken, Diamond Tiara knew that she was female. The other had appeared beside Spoiled Rich, who nearly fainted at the sight of a rag-clad being standing beside her. 
Pick’s eyes immediately widened, and he spread his wings to turn himself over. He then stood at attention. 
“Lord Niobus and Eleventh Princess Pyroxene!” he said, quickly and with a military tone. 
“Second offspring Diamond Pick,” said the female morlock, Pyroxene. The dial in her chest clicked slightly, its outer ring turning slowly around a spiraling set of crimson and bright pink jewels. “I see you have…” she paused. “Hmm. Not only have you survived Hazard Zone Six, but you have successfully constructed a translation cog for the surface-goat language. This is…impressive, actually.”
“Thank you, Eleventh Princess,” said Pick. “Your words honor me greatly.” 
“Pick,” whispered Diamond Tiara, leaning close to him. “Those are your parents?”
“With all respect,” hissed Pick back. “SHUT. IT.”
“Don’t tell me to shut it!” shouted Diamond Tiara. “Or I will shut yours!”
“I see you have not only managed to somehow mediate our competition, but also rescued the goats,” said Pick’s mother, unamused. “And acquired us more than enough meat…”
Diamond Tiara’s eyes widened. 
“Oh yes,” said the other morlock. His voice was deep, and he leaned in close to Spoiled Rich, who was shaking but too afraid to run. “I have not had surface-goat since I was just a colt…but this one looks…unpleasant. She will need to be heavily smoked and well-seasoned.” He reached out and poked her, which provoked a scream. “But she will indeed produce a ready supply of lard.”
“Don’t you DARE touch my wife!” said Filthy Rich, his voice shaking. “Do you- -do you have any idea who I am?”
“No,” said Lord Niobus, twisting his own technetium dial. His was mounted on one of his shoulders, and as he reached for it, Diamond Tiara saw that instead of jewels its front was covered in an odd shape of dark and highly polished wood. He addressed his wife. “I will summon a drone to…process…the raw materials.” 
“Wait!” said Pick. 
The other two morlocks paused, and both turned toward Pick. “A…request, Second Offspring Diamond Pick?” 
Pyroxene stepped forward, pushing Filthy Rich out of her way and looming over Pick. She was flatter than a normal pony, but with her body completely covered in armor with glowing-red heaters and rotting fabric, she looked even more terrifying to Diamond Tiara than Spoiled Rich did. 
“Yes,” said Pick, refusing to let his voice shake. “I request that you leave these ponies unharmed.”
“Ponies?”
“Yes,” said Pick. “They are ponies. And these two are my friends.”
Pyroxene looked down at Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Her helmet was more ornate than Pick’s had been, and the lenses that covered her tiny eyes flicked mechanically from one filly to the other. 
“Then why should I preserve the adults?”
“Because they are my parents,” said Diamond Tiara, stepping forward. 
“Diamond!” hissed Pick. 
“No!” said Diamond Tiara sharply. “Now YOU shut it! I’ve had it with this! I just got abandoned in a house build by crazy ponies, chased down by YOU, then had to fight my way through a whole army of plants that were trying to drain every drop of moisture from my adorable little body! I’ve HAD IT!” She turned toward Pyroxene. “And if you think you can just show up at MY HOUSE and threaten to eat my parents, I’ll fight you TOO!”
Pyroxene held her ground, and all four of her mechanical lenses focused on Diamond Tiara- -and then slid from her armor up to her head. There was a long pause. Then she finally spoke. “I see you are missing a diamond from your tiara,” she noted. 
“Missing a diamond?” cried Spoiled Rich. At receiving that information, she promptly fainted and was caught by Niobus, who was nearly crushed under the weight. 
Pyroxene’s eyes turned toward Pick’s chest. “And I see you have a diamond inserted into your dial. Tell me, did you steal this jewel from this filly?”
“He didn’t steal anything!” cried Diamond Taira, interposing herself between Pick and Pyroxene. “I gave him that diamond!”
Pyroxene looked down at her. “I see…no doubt without any awareness of the significance of an exchange of gemstones in our culture. Nevertheless, the bond is forged.” 
She stepped backward and turned toward Filthy Rich, who’s eyes darted around the desert. He took several steps back, crying out when he bumped into a needleless pony-shaped cactus. 
“Name,” demanded Pyroxene. 
“Ex- -Excuse me?”
“NAME.”
“Filthy- -Filthy Rich!” he cried. 
Pyroxene paused. “What an unfortunate name for a pony. What is your relationship to the small porcine one?”
“You mean Diamond Tiara? I’m…I’m her father.”
“I like her. She reminds me of a younger me, except far less attractive. Strange that you gave her a colt’s name. Tell me, Filthy- -”
“Just Rich, please.”
“I would advise against interrupting her,” said Niobus, who was now helping Spoiled Rich recover from her fainting spell instead of testing her lard content. 
“What is it you do?” asked Pyroxene. 
“I- -I- -” Filthy Rich cleared his throat and put on a wide, artificial but warm smile. His voice changed to that he normally used to address potential business partners in long, intense meetings. “I am the proprietor of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains, Equestria’s most popular retail chain. We currently have over sixteen locations including five new state-of-the art superstores complete with grocery- -”
“A merchant, then.”
“Well, um- -yes. You could say that.”
“A merchant?” said Niobus, helping a woozy Spoiled Rich to her feet. 
“I was not aware that the surface-dwellers had large enough numbers to support trade,” said Pyroxene. 
“Still,” said Niobus, joining her in cornering Filthy Rich. “This opens numerous possibilities…”
“Agreed,” said Pyroxene. 
“I…um…what are we talking about?” asked Filthy Rich. “And does it concern eating my wife?”
“We are beyond that,” snapped Pyroxene. 
“We are mining nobility,” said Niobus. “And this area is on a very important mineral vein that is critical to us but useless to you primitives. If you can continue to help us mediate our competition, we may be willing to draft…exports.”
“Exports?” said Filthy Rich, his ears suddenly perking forward. He smiled, this time sincerely. “Well, then. I think we can come to an agreement that is…mutually beneficial.”  

The adult ponies walked off toward the house, leaving the younger ponies alone in the endless garden of cactuses that now stood silent and sated. They were already talking quickly about technical business things- -all except for Spoiled Rich, who was waking with them shakily and in silence, unsure how to deal with the fact that she was in the presence of nobility who wore rags and resembled large insects. 
Diamond Pick turned toward Diamond Tiara, and he seemed to deflate after his parents were out of earshot. “Oh wow,” he said. “That was close.”
“I can’t believe that your parents make you address them with titles,” said Silver Spoon. 
“Family life for nobility is…different…”
“You have no idea,” said Diamond Tiara. 
The three of them started following their parents back toward the house. High above them, the clouds started to break and beams of sunlight poured down onto the flowering desert below. Diamond Tiara knew what those plants were, what they had done- -and what they would continue to do for all eternity. Somehow, though, even she had to admit that they were beautiful when they were no longer thirsty. 
Pick’s eyes narrowed from the sudden surge of light, and he began ticking information into his dial. 
“What are you doing?” asked Diamond Tiara.
“Summoning a drone,” said Pick. “I need a helmet and a change of clothing.”
“The mask will definitely be helpful. So I don’t have to look at you anymore.”
“Yes,” he said. “And while I’m getting dressed properly….PLEASE take a shower.” 
The two of them both laughed, and even Silver Spoon joined in. 
“Darn,” said Diamond Tiara, watching their parents leaving into the distance. “I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other in the near future.”
“Most likely.”
“I guess I can tolerate that. You’re a disgusting bug, Pick. But you’re not that bad. At least you have a great name.”
“And you are less of a pork than I originally anticipated.”
“Hey,” said Silver Spoon, running ahead of them and looking down at a tiny, plump cactus growing at the base of its much larger mother. She reached out toward it with her hoof. “Do you think Spiny V. would invite me to a lecture if I sent him a sample?”
Diamonds Pick and Tiara both watched in horror as the tiny cactus squirmed knowingly and produced a set of small, deadly-sharp needles. 
“Yeah, don’t do that,” said Diamond Tiara. 
“Yeah…” said Silver Spoon, backing away from the baby cactus. “Maybe I’ll just write him a letter…”
The three of them laughed, but Diamond Tiara suddenly grabbed her head. 
“Diamond Tiara,” said Pick, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” lied Diamond Tiara as the pain slowly faded, leaving on the echoes of the whispers in her mind behind as it retreated into the depths of her psyche. “Nothing at all.” 
Diamond Tiara ignored the distant, wind-like laughter. Instead, she smiled. Together with Silver Spoon and Diamond Pick, her two friends, she walked back to her new house. She knew that she would not stay there forever, but that when she was there, she would have some good times in that house. It no longer seemed threatening or scary, because it no longer was. It was big and dusty and old and had a terribly unruly garden, but with proper plumbing, she knew that it could be a good home- -perhaps eventually becoming her favorite summer dwelling of all. 
The only problem that Diamond Tiara noticed with it was that it needed to be just a little bit bigger.