Elder Tekrin walked slowly through the courtyard, weighed down by the saddlebags on his back. The bags were nearly empty, and their physical weight wasn't much, even to his old frame. But still, they seemed to drag him down.
He had known for years that their blacksmith had been reluctant to join them. Even after witnessing the destruction of his world, Serus, he had been reluctant to give up the supposed protections of shields, lasers, and all the other weapons that had failed to keep his world safe. Yet, he had joined them. He destroyed his ship, gave up on technology, and settled down to a simpler life working a coal-fired forge.
Until the illness took him less than a month ago. While somepony had taken over the smithy, his house had been untouched except for a distant family member who came to salvage what little food he had. It stayed that way until today, when Tekrin himself had visited, and like a common looter, ransacked it. It was not without purpose, and it was not out of disrespect, but necessity does little to ease the conscience.
Tekrin shifted the saddlebags uncomfortably. He had held out hope that he wouldn't find them, the phased pulse pistols that the blacksmith kept hidden. But, many in the settlement kept some memento of their pasts, usually a useless shell of some machine that has been repurposed. Not the blacksmith though. The chief engineer from some warship, he would never let anything fall into disrepair, not a gate, not a plow, and not his weapons.
He still held out hope that they would remain unused, but if the outsiders refused to deal with the witch of the lake, he would. That grey outsider would most likely kill him for it, but he could accept that. Every time she came to the village, death followed. Other times, she merely left warnings, taunting notes of disasters none could prevent. The witch not only killed, she tortured, leaving her victims in fear. If he could save even a few of the villagers, his life was fair price to pay. With the rest of his family gone, there was little chance of him being missed.
No, his family wasn't gone, not yet. He looked up from the ground he tread to the buildings of the village. The healer's cottage wasn't far. He should go there, say goodbye.
He headed for the only building in town with a metal roof. It was hard to miss, and that was by design. It had been his daughter's idea to replace the thatched roof with a salvaged panel from one of Serus' ships. Even to an outsider, that building would stand out.
He walked through the wooden door. The rest of the building was made from materials harvested and crafted by hoof on Sevus. Rough wood, rough fabric, and rough times. The worst patients were brought here, laid out on tables as if they would actually receive help, then left to die alone. The main floor was filled with tables, only a few of which were empty; the three nearest the door, their former occupants buried just that morning, and two others whose occupants must have expired since he visited last.
Tekrin moved from table to table, looking for his daughter. Each table he passed brought pain and memories as he recognized the pony laying there. The local baker, the blacksmith's apprentice, even the colt who helped him keep the paperwork in order. The filly who helped Marooney with her fowl, the twins who grew peppers out past the river, the mare who started the orphanage, and several farmers he knew.
He made it to the last table, near the stairs to the second level, without finding his daughter. She must be on the second floor. There was a workspace up there, and storage for medicinal plants. If that outsider colt was focusing on his efforts on her, then she's probably on a table up there.
The heavy, well-made treads made no sound as he started up. If nothing else, the village would remain standing for decades to come. When he reached the top, he saw the outsider standing over a prone figure covered with a sheet. It was a young colt, maybe six or seven... No, six and a half. It was the farrier's boy, Silver-Mane. Like his name suggested, the yellow-furred colt had a silvery grey mane. It wasn't the most imaginative name, but it was one the little colt was proud of.
The outsider pulled the sheet back. On the young patient's chest, there was a square patch that was shorn to the skin. The outsider moved to a nearby table, where his bags, and all his medical supplies were laid out. He picked up a bottle, an amber glass apothecary jar, filled with blood red fluid.
Tekrin watched quietly from the stairs as Radio poured the fluid over a gauze pad in a tray. He then brought the tray over to Silver-mane, and with a pair of tweezers gripped in his wingtips, swabbed the colt's chest with the gauze until the entire area was stained rust colored and sticky.
"Father?"
Radio looked over at the stairwell when he heard the voice from the first floor. He smirked when he saw Tekrin standing there. "Here to check on me?"
The elder looked back at the bottom of the stairs. "Sparrow?" His daughter stood there, carrying a bucket along in her magic. "You... you got better." He moved to head down to her, but she held up her hoof to stop him.
The mare walked up to him, pausing on each step. She was breathing heavy, but she was breathing clear. The wheezing that accompanied her every breath for months was gone. "Father, it's working. He's already healed another, the dyemaker. And the farrier's son will be better soon."
Tekrin ran his hoof through his daughter's mane. "How?" He let his hoof fall, brushing against her side, over the bald patch there. He looked back at Radio. "How?"
The young physician nodded towards Silver-Mane as he deposited his tray on the table. "By draining the fluid that accumulates in the lungs. You can watch if you want. I need to show somepony else how to do this anyway." He picked up a plastic and foil pouch and held it out to Sparrow. "You paid attention to the instructions I gave you when I was working on Bead, right?"
She nodded and took the pouch, setting her bucket down. "Are you sure I should do this?"
Radio nodded. "Yes. I'm going to guide you for this one, but I can't do everything. I need somepony to help me with the rest of the patients while I work."
"Wait," Tekrin told the Pegasus, "what do you mean by that? What could you have to work on that is more important than healing the sick?"
"Keeping them that way." Radio shook his head. "Look, it's only been what? Three hours?" He pointed at Sparrow. "I drained the fluid from her lungs, but she shouldn't have recovered this quickly. I scanned her a dozen times, but the respiratory problems are the only thing I can find. I don't know what's causing them."
"What does that mean?" Tekrin glanced at his daughter and the colt on the table. "You can't heal them?"
"I don't know!" Radio groaned. "I need to isolate a cause. All I can do now is treat the worst patients as they come in. And if I can't find out what's causing this, they'll just keep coming back."
"But you can treat the symptoms." Tekrin reached out for his daughter, just to touch her, remind himself she was still there. "You have been treating the symptoms."
Radio nodded. "And I'll make sure they keep getting treated. But, I'm running out of needles. I have to set up the equipment to make more, but I need materials; Iron, steel, aluminum, just a little, and recyclable thermoplastics. Ugh, but you probably don't have any plastic at all."
Tekrin looked down. Plastic? "Polynacrilene?"
"Yes!" Radio snatched a laminated piece of paper off the table. "Here." He offered it to Tekrin. "Anything on this list. Where is the Nacrilene? What form is it in?"
"A large tarp. We used it as a roof for our temporary shelters, and put it in storage instead of burning it." The elder took his saddlebags off. "We have many such items. Remnants of our past that couldn't be safely or easily disposed of. I will bring them." He nudged his bag forward. "For the metal, begin with these. It may be best if they were out of my hooves."
Radio opened the bag. "Oh..." By the time he looked up, the elder was already halfway down the stairs. The pegasus gathered up the bag and lifted it towards the stairs like he was raising a toast. "I'll get started then." He set the bag down near the supply table and moved back to Silver-Mane's side. "Come on, Sparrow, the anesthetic should have kicked in by now."
"This is it!" Astral screamed into his communicator. "I have fallen in mud, I have been chased by rock bees, and I have had enough of this ridiculous game of hide and seek."
"I'm sorry," the voice responded, "but I have to protect myself."
Astral scoffed and looked up at the canyon walls around him. It was more of a ravine, really. Craggy rock walls, three meters high and just less than that apart, stretching for a hundred meters in either direction. "From what?! If anypony was following me, don't you think you'd be able to see them? In this wasteland, you'd see them from miles away."
Up above, carrion birds circled the ravine, little more than muddy brown pinpricks at their current height. Astral snorted. Tough luck, but he wasn't going to be on the menu to- He squinted at them. One of them was a little larger than the others, and a slightly different color.
"What do you see?"
Astral quickly looked down the ravine in either direction. "Where are you watching me from?" He saw a glint of light behind him and ran for it.
"What did you see?"
Astral found a glass bottle twenty meters behind him. "Nothing." He sighed and tipped the bottle over. "I was just wondering why the buzzards aren't affected by what's going on. Everything else is dying, but they seem to be doing well."
"Um... they're carrion birds, that's kind of how it works."
Astral rolled his eyes. "I meant that whatever's killing the plants and animals on this planet should be affecting them as well. Especially if they ingest the tainted animals."
"I'll explain soon, just keep following the ravine."
"Yeah, how did I know you were you going to say that?" The unicorn glanced back up before turning around. As he started walking again, he smiled to himself. That purple mare sure was a clever one.
Radio yawned and laid his head on the table, pushing tools and instruments out of the way. Six hours, that's how long it had been since they landed. It felt more like sixteen. Shortly after draining the mystery fluid from the last patient's lungs, more ponies started trickling in. Rumors were spreading of the new healer in town, and every cut, burn, and broken bone was making its way to him.
The loss of their healer hurt the community greatly. Even worse, both of healer's apprentices had died, leaving the entire community with nothing beyond basic first aid. Some of the broken bones he saw were improperly set, and had to be broken again before proper setting and casting. There also several injuries that needed stitches, potent antibiotics, or both. At this rate, he was going to run out of medical supplies before nightfall, whenever that is.
He stood up and stretched out, giving his wings a few flaps to keep them from falling asleep. One of the candles keeping the small room lit blew out in the sudden breeze. The Pegasus picked up a laser scalpel and set it to cauterize. He then direct it its beam at the candle wick. The flame was back within seconds.
Returning light to the room made Radio realize that he never really looked at it. He was so focused on his work that he didn't pay attention to where he was working, aside from sterilizing any surface he worked on.
He looked around now, now that things had slowed down. The worst of the sick and injured were treated and resting comfortably, but it wouldn't be long before somepony else came forward, either with some malady they believed to be minor until the infection set in, or after collapsing from the respiratory problems plaguing them all.
They would be brought here and treated in this room, this old, weathered, wood-plank room. Looking at the floor, Radio could see a little of the first floor through gaps in the floorboards. It was a sturdy floor, made of thick planks, and was in no danger of collapsing, or even flexing under the weight of anypony that might come up here. But, still, Radio pledged not to drop anything, for the sake of anypony that might be underneath. The walls were nothing like the floor. Pitched, sealed, and painted with some sort of natural dye, they were specifically made not to allow drafts. The windows were the same way, tightly shuttered against the outside world.
Radio opened a window, letting sunlight bathe the room's interior. He was greeted with a view of damaged thatched rooftops and dusty grey streets.
There was a bookshelf near the window, stacked high with magic tomes and medical texts. Most were in standard, but there were a few in other languages as well. The top shelf held only a few books, but they were hoof bound, probably written by the healer. Records, notes, maybe even information about local medicinal plants; whatever they are, they may be of some use.
The wall across from the window was dedicated to storage. There were many shelves, all covered with wooden boxes, and jars of clay and glass. Between the shelves, there was a chest of drawers. Each drawer was perfectly square, only a few centimeters across, with a small etched tag and a handle made of brass. Radio didn't recognize half of the names on the tags, but the other half were things like gauze, scalpels, and tweezers. Given how quickly his own supplies were waning, he would probably have to dip into those soon.
"Healer?"
"Yes?" Radio answered. He looked towards the stairs where another pony had found their way to him, a yellow filly of about twelve. She carried a picnic basket, complete with a red checker cloth, and her orange hair was done up with bows, ribbons, and what few varieties of flower still bloomed. She also seemed to be in good health, at least compared to the others who had visited him. "What's the problem?"
"Oh, no problems, healer." She set the basket down and curtsied, making Radio smile. It seemed that a lot of ponies were acting more formal around him than they needed to. "I just wanted to thank you." She nudged the basket forward. "And deliver this."
Radio lifted the cloth from the basket. It was full of plates and bowls, all empty, and all plastic. "For the recycler? Thanks." Radio chuckled. "This will help a lot. But, I don't remember you. What were you treated for?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, healer. You treated my little brother, Silver-Mane."
"Oh, right." The Pegasus nodded. "I remember him." He was one of the worst patients. According to Sparrow, the colt had reached the coughing blood stage of the illness two days earlier. He had held on longer than expected, but it left him weaker than the others once he was treated. "How is he?"
"Better," the filly said with a shrug, "but he is still sleeping. Are you sure he is healed? The others you treated are all walking around and working again."
"Working?" Radio sighed. They weren't supposed to working. They should be resting, letting their lungs recover. "Well, your brother was sick longer than most of the others, he may need some extra time." The filly didn't look too reassured by that, so he added, "But, if he's not up and about by morning, let me know, and I'll come check him out, ok?"
She nodded slowly. "Ok. Thank you, healer."
The Pegasus shrugged. "It's nothing. And call me Radio."
The filly tilted her head to the side. "Why?"
Radio blinked at her in confusion. "Um... because that's my name."
"Oh." She nodded thoughtfully. "That's a weird name. Does it mean anything?"
Radio laughed. For a moment, he had forgotten that these ponies rejected most technology. This filly probably didn't know what a radio was. "A radio is a device that allows you to send music or voices over long distances. With one, you can listen to music that somepony is playing somewhere else, or listen to somepony talk from halfway around a planet."
"Oh," she said, sounding rather bored. "So it's like a subspace communicator?"
"Uh... yeah." Radio scratched his mane. He was really trying to make it sound cool. "How do you know about subspace communicators? I thought you didn't use technology."
She shrugged. "We still learn about machines and stuff, even if we don't use them. And we have a subspace communicator, but there's something wrong with it. It's been broken since before I was born, and even the blacksmith couldn't fix it."
"Really?" Radio made a mental note to ask Tekrin about it. "Well, thanks again for the plastic, I'll start recycling it right away. You should go keep an eye on your brother, make sure he doesn't get too warm, alright?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes, healer." Then ran down the stairs, spouting a quick, "excuse me!" as she narrowly avoided bumping into somepony on the way down.
Sparrow walked into the space the filly left, looking back down the stairs with a sad smile. "She is happy to have her brother back. If only you had come a month earlier, she might still have her father." She shook her head. "Wish not for what cannot be done," the mare said to herself with a sigh. She then lifted two covered stoneware bowls with her magic. "You must be hungry, saving a planet is hard work."
"I'm not saving anything if I can't figure out what's causing the sickness." Radio started clearing space on the work table, transferring trays and tools to the operating table. "But, I am pretty hungry. Just, don't get me wrong, I'm sure whatever you made is great, but I would be a little more comfortable sticking to the food I brought with me. At least for now."
"I understand." She set the bowls down and helped move tools. She stuck to trays, gauze, and other analog devices, leaving the tech, like the laser scalpel, to Radio. "You can scan it then. If you can rule out food as the cause, you will have one less thing to scan later."
"Not really." Having cleared off a good half of the table, Radio sat down, motioning for Sparrow to join him. The only things left on the table were the two recyclers, their materials, and their power pack. They worked quietly, hoppers loaded with broken up materials, metals in one, plastics in the other. They cycled through a basic surgery kit, printing out two scalpels, two syringes, a pair of forceps, and a plastic tray every hour. The only modification he had made to the program was to increase the size of one of the syringes. When he had first set them up, he had set them to only make oversized syringes. Even getting one every ten minutes, it had barely been enough. "I'm going to have to scan every type of food in the village."
"That will not take long. Our crops no longer have the variety the once had." She opened the bowls, revealing two identical salads. The forks were hidden inside. "I was able to scrape up enough fresh vegetables somehow. Normally, we only get a little lettuce with dried grains, or a carrot if we're lucky. But things are already changing. Many of those you have treated have already returned to the fields and found crops that survived their absence."
"AMA," Radio muttered.
"Hmm?"
The Pegasus sighed. "It means, 'against medical advice.' They should be resting."
Sparrow shook her head. "How can they rest? They have hope now, hope that they and their families will survive. If I was not helping you, I would join them. There is much to do, to rebuild."
Radio dug a bulging, brown foil pouch out of his bag, a Turian Military-Issue ration. "It's going to be hard to rebuild anything with permanent lung damage." He tore it open and dumped the smaller pouches inside onto the table. "Just hours ago, they were dying. They can spare a day to rest."
"I am sure they will pace themselves." Sparrow started digging around in her salad. "As you said, they were dying. They wish to live again as soon as possible." She found a small tomato, and ate that first. Then, she pointed to a few odds and ends near the recyclers. "What are these metal things?"
Radio poked a pile of little metal parts with a wingtip. "This is what's left of one of those energy weapons the elder brought me. Unfortunately, it's some sort of zinc alloy, and completely useless for recycling. I didn't disassemble the other one yet."
"I see. I suppose that's it?" She pointed to the pistol. "Make sure you lock it up when foals are around. Anyway, while I was out, I overheard some villagers speaking about coming to you before they develop the blood cough. Would that be wise? Some of them are quite ill."
Radio sighed. "I don't know. I could drain the fluid from their lungs, but I don't want to poke any more holes in ponies than completely necessary. If I can find the cause of this soon, they may not need such a drastic treatment."
"I will tell them to wait then." She picked through, found a small, shriveled strawberry, and ate it with a smile. Then she picked up one of Radio's pouches. "Is this really food?" She felt the hard lumpy thing vacuum packed in the pouch and lightly whacked it against the table, laughing at the solid thumping it made. "It seems a little over-cooked."
Radio laughed and took the pouch, turning it over to look at the label. "As a matter of fact, these are chocolate chip cookies. Don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em. I grew up on food like this."
"If you say so, Hunter." Sparrow went back to her salad. She had a forkful of lettuce halfway to her mouth before she realized her slip. She lowered her fork. "I apologize, Radio. I did not mean to..."
"It's ok." The Pegasus looked down at the salads. It was obvious that she had put more work into his than she had her own. There were no shriveled vegetables, and the lettuce looked crisp and wet, like it was washed. Hers was dusty and it looked like she took the leftovers from making his. He quietly pulled it towards him and reached for a scanner. "So, um... I guess I must look like him."
Sparrow shook her head slowly. "Not at all." She lifted her fork again, just to drop it in her bowl and push her salad away. "He wasn't even a Pegasus. He was a unicorn, like me. You don't even share any colors, but..." She reached over with a hesitant hoof, brushing a lock of messy rainbow mane from the colt's face. "You have the same smile." Radio didn't say anything as she stroked his mane, what could he say? Instead, he just focused on scanning the food. "He would have had his eighteenth birthday in two seasons."
Radio's jaw tightened. His birthday was in six or seven months. If Sevus' seasonal cycle was similar to most other inhabited planets, meaning four seasons, at three to four months a season, Hunter was almost exactly the same age as him.
"And, you both focus so much on helping others," Sparrow continued. "Hunter was the healer's apprentice. He always volunteered to make deliveries, or go pick herbs outside of the village, and he never complained about the work."
The scanner showed nothing out of the ordinary. There were no toxins, no viral agents, and acceptable levels of bacteria. It would have flagged any unidentifiable substance, or set off an alarm for anything that was known to be dangerous. According to the scans, the food before him was an ordinary salad in every way.
Except, it was a meal made by a mother, for a son that couldn't eat it. He could understand Sparrow's pain. He was one side of a coin, and she the other. If his mother had been the one to return from that ship, would she feel like Sparrow did now?
He could let her pretend for a little while. In truth, it wouldn't be purely for her benefit. Mom was never the best cook, but she always loved to make food and get everypony at the table to eat. He missed those nights, the four of them gathered together, talking and laughing, sometimes watching old movies.
He picked up the fork and took a big bite of the salad, almost gagging as it's taste spread on his tongue. It was bitter, but at the same time, it was sweet, a coy, elusive sweet that hid itself in the mix. A familiar sweet.
Radio spit the salad back into the bowl.
"You do not like it?" Sparrow asked, surprised by the sudden action. "I could make something else."
Radio shook his head. "No, it's not that. Stop eating." He dug in his bag until he found a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "I bet this is gonna hurt." He up-ended the bottle. His eyes bugged out as his mouth started to burn. He clamped it shut against the pain, and tried to swish and gargle, lasting only a few seconds before forcefully spitting onto the floor. "Ahhh!" He coughed. "I was right. Eck!" He kept his mouth open, tongue dangling, and face contorting as the taste of alcohol started to burn away.
"What's wrong?" Sparrow grabbed his hoof in concern. "Hunt-" She shook her head. "Radio, why did you do that?"
"Sparrow, I-" Radio coughed violently, pulling his hoof away to cover his mouth. When the coughing subsided, he sifted through the food pouches on the table. He tore open one filled with clear liquid, and holding it carefully upright, extended it to the mare. "Drink this."
She took it gently, by hoof instead of magic. She looked down at it in worry. "Why? What is it?"
"Just," Radio dry coughed, "just drink it."
She brought it to her lips slowly, taking a ginger sip while remembering the colt's reaction to his drink. She blinked as the pure, crystal fluid washed over her tongue. It wasn't long after that that she was holding the empty pouch upside down, having greedily drained its contents. She shook the pouch, freeing one or two more drops for her to swallow. It took a moment after that for her to remember that she needed to breath."That was wondrous." She set the pouch on the table, and brushed her mane back. "Is it some sort of medicine? It's so clear, and refreshing."
Radio shook his head sadly. "No." He looked down at the salad that was unknowingly contaminated by Sparrow's care. "It's water."
"What?" she grabbed the pouch and read it's label over and over, shaking her head with each pass. "No," she mumbled in confusion, "that is not possible. That was not the taste of water."
He slowly slid his scanner over his salad, then hers. Again, the scanner showed no indication of anything unknown, or known and dangerous. Radio bit his lower lip. He had a hunch now, a hypothesis bordering on certainty, and the scanner would prove it. He switched it from detection mode to analysis, flipping a little switch on the side. The colorful, easy to read, graphical interface was replaced by dark grey alphanumeric code and extensive text descriptions, all scrolling by far too fast to make sense of.
In this mode, the scanner was meant to be used in conjunction with another device, usually a data logger or a computer. It showed all the information the scanner was collecting, basically telling you the chemical composition of everything it scanned, down to the molecular level. Too much information to be useful on its own. If you knew what you were looking for though, simple circuits could be rigged to react to specific chemical markers. The scanner had a built in system for that, and Radio fired it up. The scrolling text stopped, blinked away, and was replaced with a simple search box and onscreen keyboard.
With a sigh, Radio started typing. When he confirmed the entered text, the scrolling data came back. It scrolled and scrolled, until it came across a data entry that matched.
"Glycodexrin," Radio read out, "dissolved in water, seventeen parts per million. Damn it," he said quietly. He tossed the scanner lightly, letting its military casing bounce harmlessly against the table. "The entire water table's probably contaminated." He grabbed at his communicator, pressing the blue button. How slowly did this happen? How long did it take for the village to become used to the taste of poison in the well? "Astral? Twi? You guys there?"
A buzzing sound played from the device. Radio thought it was a malfunction until Astral started shouting angrily. "Yeah, I'm here! make it fast!" The buzzing sound clicked off shortly after Astral stopped.
Radio blinked a few times. "What was that sound?" he asked through the communicator.
"Nothing!" The buzz accompanied the captain's words just like last time, only a bit louder. There was also the sound of frantic hooves. "You called me, right? Get to the point!"
The communicator must be picking up some environmental sound. That, and given Astral's tone... "Um," Radio lifted the communicator a little, "is something chasing you?"
"Brilliant deduction! Whatever's going on, rock bees are doing just fine!"
"What's a rock bee?" Radio asked.
"The things chasing me!"
Radio winced. "Right, stupid question. Anyway, this is important, don't eat or drink anything that we didn't bring with us."
"Don't eat or drink anything on the planet that is mysteriously dying? I think I can handle that!"
"Ha, ha." The Pegasus groaned. "I found out what's happening. The water is contaminated with Glycodexrin."
"Engine coolant?" The buzzing sound started to fade. Astral's hoofsteps also started to slow, eventually stopping, and leaving only his panting. "But, I... I thought glycodexrin was nontoxic? Most of the ships on Serus used it. Hell, I probably drank more of the stuff than this planet ever imported. I used it right up until they stopped making it a few years ago."
"Yeah, so did the Furian Military. But there were questions about the effects of long-term exposure. Several mechanics developed respiratory problems, nothing as severe as is happening here, but enough to prompt the company to develop something new to feed the defense contracts."
"So, what, the company dumped the surplus here?"
"Radio?" Sparrow touched the colt's shoulder, pulling his attention away from the communicator. "You said the poison is in the water?"
"Radio, what was that?" Astral asked through the communicator. "Is there someone with you?"
"Yeah," the colt answered, "hold on." He turned to Sparrow. "It's in the water, but that means it's in everything else too, plants, crops, even the dyes and paints you make. The planet's saturated in it."
"But, there's more of it in the water?"
"Yes, but..."
"No!" Sparrow shook her head. "It's the water that is killing us, that's what you are saying."
Radio sighed. "Yes, fine. The water is poisoned. But everypony, where, and thing is so soaked in this stuff that not drinking the water won't cure anyone."
"But drinking more of the water makes the illness grow worse?"
"Nopony knows exactly how long-term exposure to this stuff works, it was discontinued as soon as questions came up. No matter how much you're exposed to, it takes years-"
The table rattled under a sharp blow from Sparrow's hoof. She stared down at the floor, hunched over as if a weight of lead hung from her. "Yes or no?" she shouted, shaking, ready to collapse from that weight.
"Wha-" Radio's eyes darted around, the salad, the scanner, his medical equipment. "I-" What should he say? He didn't know. He didn't have enough information, and he didn't have the time to get more. "I don't know. Maybe? Why are you getting so upset about this?"
Sparrow turned her head slowly towards the table. She reached one hoof out for Radio's bowl. "Hunter always hated dust," she whispered, "didn't like the taste of it. So, every day, I would rinsed his food at the village well. Even after he got sick, I would wash everything he ate, thinking I was making it clean, that I was making it better."
"You couldn't have known." Radio put a hoof on her shoulder. "You were just being a good mother. It wasn't your fault."
"No!" She shoved the colt away, unconsciously adding a wave of magic to the force of her her hooves and toppling the Pegasus. "I killed him!" she screamed. She grabbed the salad, the one she had gone through so much work to prepare and wash for him, and threw it at the wall. It was poison, tainted by the death of the planet, and she was the one who poisoned it. "And I would have killed you!"
She ran off before Radio could lift himself from the floor, tripping down the stairs, slamming into a wall, and getting right back up and moving. The colt could only watch through the floorboards as she tore across the first floor and out the door.
"Radio! What was that sound? What happened?"
The Pegasus groaned. He must have hit the talk button when he fell. He grabbed the edge of the table and pulled himself up. Leaning against the table, his eyes went wide. It was gone! He hit the communicator. "We've got a problem, I have to go!"
"What kind of problem?"
Radio skipped the stairs and jumped straight out the window, taking along only his scanner. If he didn't find her quickly, he could use it to scan for the phase pistol she took. He just hoped he would be fast enough.
"Radio!" Astral shouted into the wristband. "What's going on? Answer me!" He gave up and kicked the dust. "Damn it! How does one colt get into so much trouble?"
"You're one to talk."
Astral looked back down at his hoof. "You know, if I wasn't out here in the middle of nowhere, I could be helping him. If he gets hurt, I'm taking it out on you."
"You aren't worried about your other crew member?"
Shoot! Did he just blow it? "She's a combat unicorn, she can take care of herself."
"Then, she could also help him."
"If they're together," Astral replied. "She was going to check the town records, remember? You were listening in on the conversation."
There wasn't an immediate response. Several seconds passed before the voice spoke again. "Her communicator is quiet. Even with the gain turned up, I can only hear muffled voices."
Not good. "So? Records are in the library, right? And last I checked, the entire town wasn't exactly hustle and bustle."
"I should be able to hear her breathing, or pages turning."
That's it, she knows. "She must have taken it off. Now what? Do we start this wild hurk chase all over again?"
"I was watching, and nopony followed you." There was a pause, probably as she thought it over. "Keep walking."
"For how long?" Astral kicked up some dust. "As much as I appreciate the grand wasteland tour, this is getting old fast."
"Not much longer. Just to that tree in front of you."
Astral scanned the flat, rocky surroundings. The ravine was a good distance behind him, and this seemed to be what remained of a quarry, partially filled with water. There were boulders, pond, and scraggly little trees scattered everywhere, but only one tree stood out. "Say, why do the villagers hate you so much? Tekrin mentioned that you caused this disaster, and it sounds like it wasn't the first time."
"I didn't-" A sharp inhalation cut off her protest, and a calmer voice, shaky and low, followed it. "I... I only tried to help. A few years ago, there was a fire. I tried to warn them, but they didn't believe me. And, when it happened, and ponies got hurt, they thought I started it and chased me away."
"When it happened?"
She didn't hear his question, and continued her story, control of her voice degrading fast. "I was just wanted to help, to save as many as possible, but they thought I was responsible. Every time I went near the town, they would chase me away. Every time they saw me in the wilds, they would turn and run. One time, they... I... There was a group of colts, and they came after me." She was speaking in broken sobs by this point, but she forced herself to continue. "I wasn't trying to hurt them. I just wanted to defend myself, but I left them in the field, and I don't even know if they were alive or dead. After that, it was all over. To them, I was the face of evil. It was easier to let them believe that. A warning from the Witch of the Lake, telling of her next great calamity, carried more weight than my words ever did before."
Astral was listening quietly, but he wasn't sure he heard her right. She was warning the village of things before they happened? The fire wasn't lit and moving towards town, it wasn't even started? "Berry,"
"No!" Her fragile voice nearly shattered shouting at him. "No! Grinpa is the only one who gets to call me that. No more talking, no more distractions. Keep walking. Head to that tree, and then I'll give you your next instructions."
Astral lifted his communicator. It was such a small thing that set her off, but it sounded like she had good reason to be upset. He just hoped there was some way to lighten the mood, maybe convince her that he wasn't a threat. "I'm guessing you mean the big dead one?"
After the curt, affirmative, "yes," from the mystery mare, Astral dropped his hoof and let out an exaggerated sigh. She wasn't going to talk to him. Also, that tree was big, dry, and probably hollow. With all the rocks around, it was the perfect place for a rock bee hive. It would be the third one that day.
He walked towards it anyway. What choice did he have? He wasn't about to turn around after coming this far. And if things got too bad, he had backup waiting above.
As he approached the tree, he kept his ears perked for sounds. They scanned and tracked like radar dishes, scanning for the buzzes and clicks of rock bees. He didn't hear any, but he wouldn't trust it until he looked in the tree himself and saw an empty hovel.
"Stay away from the rocks. Stay in the open."
Astral hadn't noticed that his path was curving towards cover, but out of habit, he was keeping the rocks nearby. "Why should I?" He probably shouldn't be provoking her, but what other way was there to get her talking? "You've been watching me this whole time. I don't think I can lose you by ducking behind a rock." To prove his point, he went a few more steps and tried to hop up on one of the rocks.
It gave way at his touch, soft grey fabric, covered with dust, stains, and bits of wiry moss. There was a flash of pink from under the fabric as the hidden pony sprung into action, twisting the fabric around his hoof and pulling hard.
Astral rolled with the motion, and was on his hooves before the other pony was free of the cloth disguise. Pink body and mane on an earth pony. Was this the witch of the lake? She lifted a hoof towards him, clad in a rusty plasma blaster with a jerry-rigged power pack. Was that how she defended herself from those colts?
It didn't even get to point at him before he shot a rock into it, breaking it into pieces that cut into the pony's hoof. She cried out in pain, leg bleeding, and fell back, clutching her hoof to her chest. "Stay back!" she cried. She pulled out another device, even more cobbled together than her weapon. "I can still disable your ship! I can change the access codes, and you won't be able to leave the planet!"
Astral shot another rock at the second device. He was careful not to hit her, but launched it with a lot more force than the first. It chewed through the plastic and circuity like a hungry bullet, leaving a smoking husk in its wake. "You know," Astral stated calmly, "I really don't like having things pointed at me." He straightened up as she whimpered and dropped the broken device.
"What are you going to do to me?" She wrapped her good hoof around the bleeding one. "I won't let you take me to the village. If they're going to kill me, I'd rather die here."
Astral stared down at her. This pony speaking of death looked to be Radio's age. She was a young mare with a pastel coat and a dirty, puffy like candy floss, bubble gum colored mane. Her cutie mark was an old circuit board in the shape of a balloon. "Don't worry," he told her, "I won't. I just want some answers."
"I don't have anything to do with everpony being sick. But, I think I know what's causing it." Her ear started twitching, and she grabbed it with a hoof. "Uh-oh."
"Huh?" A sudden noise made Astral look around. "What's that whistling?"
"Astral! Wait!"
The grey unicorn looked up as a shadow fell over him. A purple blur, wings flapping to accelerate beyond the means of gravity alone, and untold kilograms of impact pressure were all headed his way. He muttered under his breath, "Not again."
Hooves outstretched, Twilight slammed into him, latching on as momentum took them rolling across the hardpan. Their tumbling ended with a solid thud against the trunk of the hollow tree. Astral, who bore the brunt of the impact groaned as Twilight pushed away from him and ran to the pink pony in rapid bounds. "Pinkie!" She yelled happily. "I’m so sorry, Pinkie, he didn't..."
The young mare shied away from the alicorn. "W-who are you? How do you have a horn and wings?"
Twilight's hopes fell as she got closer. "You aren't Pinkie." This mare was smaller, and her eyes were dark, almost purple, instead of blue. "I’m sorry, you reminded me of somepony. My name is Twilight. I'm sorry about what happened here, but we have a doctor who can take care of that hoof." She held out her own. "May I see it real quick?"
The pink mare looked around, but knew there was no way she could escape from somepony with wings. She slowly held out her injured hoof.
Twilight took it carefully and wrapped it in cool, soothing aura. "This won't heal it, but it should help a bit."
The earth pony looked down in wonder as the pain subsided. "You're the librarian, the one who studied hard and became a princess."
"Huh?" Twilight stopped her magic. No, it couldn't be.
The other ponies ear started to wiggle and twitch, prompting her to look up.
It had to be. Just look at Radio, it was at least possible. Fifty years is a long time, too long to be alone. "What's your name?"
"Strawberry," the young mare responded, looking down from the clouds, "Strawberry Pie."
Astral leaned against the tree and sighed. He had already figured it out, but that confirmed that she was the one he had been talking to. But, if she had really seen him leave Sevus, she would have to have been about three.
There was soft, "Crick," above him. He looked up. There was a, "crackle." A large branch was hanging by the bark above him. He slowly moved away from the tree, careful not to bump or disturb it in anyway. Once he was clear, he breathed a sigh of relief. That just wasn't safe. He gave the branch a little nudge with his magic, breaking it free. It came crashing down and the rotted wood exploded in buzzing fury. Of course there was a hive of rock bees in there. "Run!"
Twilight looked back as Astral started running. She threw a shield around the things chasing him, then turned back to Strawberry. "Strawberry, do you know somepony named Pinkie?"
The mare shook her head.
"Pinkamena?"
Strawberry nodded quickly. "Yes! Grandma's name is Pinkamena, Pinkamena Diane Pie. It is you." She looked down quickly. "Grandma always said you would come looking for her, but I was starting to think you weren't real. She always made things up to make me feel better."
Grandmother? Twilight's mouth moved silently as she tried to respond. Pinkie had a granddaughter now, at least one son or daughter, a family. "Can you take me to her?"
The young mare smiled. "Mom and Grinpa too. Even though you never knew them, we've all been waiting for you, you should at least visit them."
"Of course I should" Twilight agreed, "I'd like that very much." Pinkie had a family. With a smile, Twilight looked down. So did Rainbow. It didn't excuse her failure, but it was a relief to know that her friends weren't alone. The alicorn looked back. "Astral! Get your flank over here!"
"I'll get right on that!" he shouted back. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm-" He glanced behind him, stopped, and threw a hoof up at the empty air. "Where'd the bees go?"
Twilight pointed at the pink sphere near the tree, a buzzing magic sphere rolling around like a hamster ball as the little grey monsters inside tried to escape.
Astral approached it carefully. "Ok, now that's impressive." He peered into the sphere, getting a good look at the creatures within. Last time he had intentionally gotten this close to one, he was seven years old, and Sevus was a lot livelier.
Despite being called bees, these stone skinned insects don't sting, they bite. And that one he had so carelessly approached back then bit him, right on the nose. Of course, his mother had been right there the moment he started crying, digging a bug bite cream out of her pack. She even let herself be bitten on the finger when he wouldn't stop complaining. "See," she said then, "now we both know what it feels like. Pain isn't so bad when you know someone else understands, right?"
"Astral! Let's go!"
"Yeah!" The unicorn shook himself from his thoughts. "I'll be right there!" With one last glance at the rock bees, he started over to them. Understanding? What an odd thing to remember now.
He followed Twilight, who in turn followed Strawberry, as the earth pony led them to the edge of the lake. Instead of stopping at the water, she waded into it. The water didn't seem to be more than a few centimeters deep, so Astral and Twilight followed.
The muddy texture of the shore vanished after a few steps, giving way to a solid surface under the water. Astral looked down. Fish swam beneath a pale white webbing of light, grotesquely mutated fish with additional eyes, gills, and other orifices, but still fish.
A force field, like the one on Canterlot, but stretching across a lake, just under the surface so it isn't seen. No wonder Strawberry's nickname was witch of the lake. You can't have a force field like this without a power source, transmission lines, and monitoring equipment to keep everything in sync. An impressive amount of technology to have at all, more so on a planet like this, not to mention the clever trick of hiding it underwater.
A particularly large and toothy ichthyan broke the lake's surface near Twilight, eyeing the newcomers with lifeless black eyes, like a doll's eyes. Twilight shrieked at its gaping maws and took to the air, hovering what she believed to be a safe distance above. "Um, is it safe to be walking here?"
Strawberry nodded as she walked. "There's clean water ahead, we can wash our hooves off there."
Twilight landed with a slight splash. "That isn't quite what I meant." A school of minnow darted between her hooves. One, a little slower than the rest hung around a bit. It had two heads, one pointed forward, one pointed back, like it was two fish sewn together by some mad scientist. One was trying to follow the school, and the other was trying just as hard to go the opposite direction. "But that is good to know."
Twilight stared in morbid fascination at the mutant minnow and waited for Astral to catch up. "Hey," she hissed in his ear, "what the hell is going on with this planet? Some of those vultures I was flying with just dropped dead out of nowhere, and now we're wading through Frankenstein's fishbowl."
Astral swished his hoof towards the little minnow, disturbing the water enough to scare both heads into agreeing on a direction. "Radio identified the problem. It's an engine coolant called Glycodexrin. It's based off an artificial sugar molecule, and supposedly nontoxic." Astral pointed at the minnow as a larger, also two headed fish made a meal of it. "Apparently, it was never meant for long-term exposure."
Twilight sighed. "It makes sense. Fish and amphibians are more sensitive to chemicals in their environment, but they are also more likely to adapt. Carrion eaters are the last to suffer, because any toxins they receive are filtered through previous victims. Ponies, well, I guess we're just stubborn." She lifted her hoof and watched the water roll off. "So, it's in the water?"
"Looks that way." Astral gave the surface of the water a sniff. "Yeah, you can smell it. It's faint, but it's there. If it built up slowly enough, it would have been impossible to notice." Astral looked back to shore, then across the lake. "This much of it... Where's it coming from?"
"Do you think somepony dumped it intentionally?"
Astral shrugged. "It's possible, but why dump on an inhabited planet, and risk getting caught, when there are thousands upon thousands of uninhabited rocks and billions of light years of empty space out there?"
Twilight stopped herself from scratching her chin with a wet hoof. "Maybe there's a mutated strain of algae producing the molecule?"
Astral leveled a stare at her. "That's an oddly specific scenario."
The alicorn gave her head a little tilt. "Maybe, but when we first developed life support systems on Equestria, we used magically mutated strains of algae for waste control, simple food, and oxygen production. I could never get the algae to produce a suitable fuel, or complex food compounds, without additional processing, but maybe somepony overcame that to produce this coolant?"
Astral nodded slowly. "If that's the case, there might not be a way to save the planet. Everypony would have to be evacuated."
Twilight sighed. "I don't think the villagers are going to like that."
Astral started walking after Strawberry again, letting Twilight follow. "I don't think they have a choice."