Back in Equestria, when she was planning her trip, Twilight had been quite excited to find that she’d be traveling aboard the Great Western. It was the largest ship ever constructed, and passengers often wrote of it as feeling less like a ship and more like a floating town. It was nearly a thousand feet long and a hundred to each side, driven by four propellers and two massive paddlewheels. It carried four thousand passengers, plus a crew of four hundred, and transported over sixteen thousand tons of cargo. It had five smokestacks and twenty boilers, each of the most modern design. It could sail around the world without having to stop to recoal, and despite it all, was light enough on the draft to cruise through shallow harbors. It was the perfect conveyance for a modern princess, and a wonderful curiosity for a young academic.
Spike could see it all, though the library window. The ship’s “Book Storage” room, as it was so labeled, was located near the bow, atop the same elevated tower that held the bridge. Wide glass windows let the sunlight in and let them see out, leaving them free to watch the rolling sea around them or the long deck behind. Many of the passengers were up top enjoying the sun and the calm seas, and the black and white figures running together until Spike could hardly distinguish individuals from the vast herd. He looked back to Twilight, but her nose was in her books, and she didn’t seem to notice the others around them.
So, he cleared his throat. “Knock knock.”
“Huh?” Her head jerked up out of her book and turned towards Spike. She saw him, and the little silver tray he was holding, and the teapot and cups therein. Fully occupied as her mind had been, it took her a second to put it together. “Oh, yes! Tea. Because it’s afternoon. Thank you, Spike. Over there is fine.”
She went back to her reading, and Spike set the tray out on the little library’s little oak table. It was a nice day, and a nice environment for reading. The library was quiet and warm, the sea winds blew, the engines purred, and the ship rocked beneath them. Spike filled one cup to the three-fourth’s mark, judging how far the liquid rocked with each sway of the deck. Then he added half a spoon of honey, and one of the little orange flowers he’d arranged on a small plate, gently pushing the finished cup and saucer next to Twilight’s book.
“Thanks,” she said, quiet and a bit distracted, magically fumbling for the cup until she managed to levitate it. She took a sip and held it there, her tongue running over her lips. “Wow,” she said, lifting her head from her book again. “That’s actually really good.” Experimentally, she tested the flavor a second time. “Is that from the Crystal Empire? It tastes like something Cadence had once when I visited.”
“It’s from the Water Palace, so, kind of?” He shrugged. “Zebra tea is a little iffy so I had a talk with some of the free traders onboard.” His claws wrung for a moment, before he forced them down to his side.
“That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.” Twilight smiled and nodded, and Spike turned to go. But before he could make it to the door, she raised a hoof. “You want to join me? I’m reading about Saddle Arabian history, but I can take a break.”
“Uh… sure.” He stepped back, dragging a small stool over to the table so he could at least almost sit properly. He reached up, and poured another cup, a little burst of his fire breath heating the liquid until it hissed and boiled. “Anything interesting?”
Twilight smiled brightly, looking down into her cup. “You could say that. Actually, it might be faster to list what isn’t interesting.” The pace of her words picked up, and she gestured quickly as her cup floated beside her. “I’m trying to stick to contemporary history, since that’s what I’ll need for the tour, but it’s hard not to get distracted by the older books. Saddle Arabia is ancient, Spike. They were building palaces, fighting windigoes, and telling stories about djinn while the Three Tribes were still trying to figure out thatch huts.”
She sighed happily, and glanced down at her books. Flipping through the pages, she turned to a gorgeous illustration of a city that glowed in the light of the setting sun. Metal and gems were inlaid into the page in tiny slivers, and they sparkled in the light. “It’s too bad we’re only going to get to see the capital,” she continued. “There’s so much lore and tradition and magic bound up in the country. If we weren’t on a schedule I think I’d want to stay another few weeks.”
“We can always visit again,” Spike proposed, his tone noncommittal. “So uh… in the contemporary stuff. Did you read anything about how they get along with the zebra?”
“Uh… fine?” Twilight said, her tone turning puzzled. “Civil, I guess. Something up?”
“Just curious.” Spike shrugged. “So, they get along okay?”
“I mean, sure. They’re not the best of friends but, fine.” Twilight glanced at her books. “They’ve been in a bit of a trade spat ever since King Kuishia put a heavy tariff on Saddle Arabian coal imports, but nothing to get worked up over. No serious disagreements since the Brushfire War, and that was thirty years ago, and literally only four zebra died. The two armies just showed up and yelled at each other until Orlovia helped them negotiate a treaty.”
“That’s good.” Spike sipped his tea. “I mean, for the visit. With you going from one to the other.”
“Um… sure. I suppose,” Twilight agreed, a little bit of a frown on her face. “What about you, Spike? What have you been up too? I’ve hardly seen you around since we got on board.”
“I’ve been hanging out below decks. Some of the free traders onboard are neat. And I’ve been talking with the engineering crew.” He swirled his cup, taking a moment to think. “One of the Artificers in the crew is named Drive Level, and she’s been really friendly. She gave me a copy of The Principles of Mechanical Engineering, and she said this afternoon she’d show me the ship's degaussing coils.”
“You really like all that mechanical stuff?” Twilight asked, her tone bright and friendly. Spike shrugged again. “Well, what’s a degaussing coil?”
“It’s a loop of wire that generates a magnetic field just strong enough to cancel out the field caused by the hull dragging across the sea.” Spike swirled a finger to illustrate. “The ship has a lot of them in a long beam along the inner lining, so it perfectly balances out and the hull isn’t magnetic.”
“That’s interesting.” She said, reaching out to grab a biscuit from the tray. “Is it for navigation? So the hull doesn’t mess up our compasses?”
“No, there’s a separate system for that.” Spike hesitated a moment, then forged on. “The degaussing coils are for sea mines.”
Twilight paused halfway through her biscuit, swallowing what she had before she asked. “Like… a mine. On the ocean floor?”
“No. Like, land mines. You know. The things you bury in the ground and when something steps on them they explode?” He gestured as best he could, mimicking a blast with his claws. “That. Only at sea. So, sea mines.” She stared, and Spike spoke more quickly. “The older ones floated on the surface, and the ship had to bump into them. But that had all sorts of problems, so the newer ones actually rest on the ocean floor. They have magnetic sensors, and float up towards ships when they pick up the magnetic field. So we have degaussing coils.”
Twilight snorted, finishing her biscuit. “Spike, I think you’ve been a victim of the fine naval tradition of sea stories. Drive Level is just bored and embellishing her job a bit. Probably thinking back to the good old days of zebra pirates and black-and-white sails.”
“She’s not a zebra, Twilight. She’s a crystal pony.” He tapped his claw on the table, and lowered his head. “But, you’re probably right. Sorry I brought it up.”
“Don’t be sorry, Spike. I’m just curious how you’re doing. Don’t worry though. I don’t think we’ll be running any blockades just yet.” She smiled and caught his eyes with hers. After a moment, he smiled back, though his expression was stiffer than hers. “Are you enjoying The Principles of Mechanical Engineering?”
“Some of it.” He shrugged, his tone friendlier, but still making no commitment to the topic. “It has a lot of pictures, so that helps. And the graphs are really easy to understand. But they keep talking about something called ‘moles.’ And I get that it’s a unit of measurement and not, like, moles. But I don’t understand what it’s measuring, because it’s a measure of stuff but it’s not weight or mass or volume.”
“It’s measuring the number of atoms inside a sample. A mole is the number of atoms inside exactly twelve grams of carbon-12,” Twilight explained. Spike nodded, and after a few seconds of silence, Twilight frowned. “Have you been reading anything else?”
“Uh… a few things.” He sat up a little straighter. “I was reading Omens and Oracles this morning. But I was kind of struggling with it. Omen reading is an art and the book doesn’t really capture that. Like…”
He bit his lip, gesturing as he went on. “It says that when a sandpiper hits your house, that’s a sign that you’re going to experience minor but oddly persistent ill fortune today. But it also says that if a whole flock of sandpipers moves around you without getting spooked, you’re going to make a friend. And when we were in harbor, I saw a sandpiper hit the ship, but when I went over to help it, all its friends came and didn’t seem to mind that I was there. So, is that an omen of ill fortune? Or making a friend? Or both? Because I did kind of have a bad day getting all the bags ready, but I also made some friends in the crew. And I’m not sure how I tell when it’s an omen and when it’s just a bird.”
“It’s always just a bird. Omens aren’t real.” Twilight sat back in her chair, giving a small shake of her head. “There is such a thing as divination magic, but omens are just seeing something minor and using it to justify what you already know. This trip has been hard, but you’re really friendly, so any day could have minor ill fortune and making a friend if you look hard enough.”
“I dunno. King Kuishia said he ruled by omens.” Spike gestured out at the zebra on the deck behind them. “Omens are how he knew Kifo would be his heir.”
“Mmmhmm.” Twilight raised an eyebrow, her tone turning skeptical. “And I’m sure the fact that she was the only child of his favored concubine and an intelligent young mare with a love of politics had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah.” Spike shrugged, his tone again turning disinterested. He looked down at this teacup, empty save for a few steaming drops. “You’re probably right.”
Twilight hesitated. She bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s fine.” His eyes stayed on his cup.
“Spike…” Twilight frowned, and her expression softened as her ears pulled back. “I can tell something’s bothering you. You know you can always come to me when you’re upset. What’s up?”
Spike sat there for several more moments, staring silently into the cup. Then, with deliberate action, he put the cup back on the table and lifted his head to Twilight. He looked her in the eye. “Twilight, you do understand that this is a warship, right?”
A little breath escaped Twilight. She sat back up, and lifted her head. The worry faded from her eyes. “Spike,” she smiled and shook her head. “I really think you’ve been listening to some stories. This is a cargo ship. A really big cargo ship, sure. But I don’t think the cargo is going to come to life and attack anypony.”
“It will if the cargo is four regiments of angry zebra.” His voice turned insistent, and he gestured at the deck behind them, more sharply than he had before. “Twilight, think about it. Why is this ship so big? It must have been cheaper to build four or five smaller ships.”
“It’s for coal, Spike,” Twilight said, her tone at once maternal and patient. “It’s over four thousand miles from Zebraria to Orlovia and—”
“And what?” His voice rose, and he spread his arms wide. “Merchants hate making stops along the way? There’s no business in any port between here and the opposite side of the world? No passengers to pick up? No way to recoal? They just had to go straight there without stopping? Twilight, we’re taking this ship to Saddle Arabia. The coal capital of the world. Not the frozen north.”
“So maybe they’re doing something different this time! Or maybe somezebra just wanted a really big ship.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.” He reached up with a claw, pushing back his spines, his body language growing tense and uncomfortable. “Twilight, it’s designed to sail up shallow waters. The bridge is mounted high above the deck so you can see other ships before they see you. It’s built to sail through a minefield without stopping. I know they’re using it as a cargo ship, but does it sound like that’s what the designer had in mind?”
Twilight let out a long, exasperated groan, sitting back and spreading her hooves. “Okay.” She managed, with a little flick of her hoof. “Sure, maybe at some point, some designer had ideas for a warship, and they ended up getting reused or recycled and now we’re here. Or maybe you’re completely right and it was built to be a warship originally. But we’re carrying iron and fancy tea. Not,” her tone turned deep and dramatic, “four regiments of angry zebra. So I think we’ll be okay.”
Spike looked down into his lap. He took a deep breath.
“Hey…” Twilight softened her tone and reached a hoof across the table, but Spike didn’t reach up to take it. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make fun of you. I know you’re worried and trying to help. I just don’t want you getting worked up about—”
“In Vineigha, there wasn’t anything wrong with our scheduled train.” Spike gazed down at the floor, wrapping his arms around himself. “I was talking with some of the ponies in the city, and I started getting a really bad vibe. And one of the mechanics talked about the Black Hooves and said he’d be afraid to get into a carriage with anypony whose title was ‘Your Highness.’ And I got spooked, and made something up so we could leave before the tour.”
Twilight’s expression fell, dropping from her careful compassion into a blank mask. Her hoof slowly retracted across the table, lying flat on her near side. Spike kept staring down at his knees, and kept talking. “I didn’t tell you because I thought it was stupid. I just talked with some street ponies and hung out in the rain. You’d have told me to stop worrying and go to bed. But I had to do something.”
Twilight looked at the table, her eyes wide. Her hoof reached up to rub at her jaw, her cheek, at nothing in particular. “You lied to me,” she finally managed, her voice quiet. Then her head snapped up, her eyes narrowed, and her voice sharply rose. “You lied to me and withheld information that ponies were in danger!” Her breath came fast and hot, and her hoof hit the table hard. “Several of the ponies you didn’t warn are now dead, Spike!”
“I know! I’m sorry. I was trying to help—”
“Trying to help?” Twilight’s wings flared out, and she leaned hard across the table. “Maybe I could have helped the prince! Did you think of that? Maybe if I hadn’t skipped town early, three ponies would still be alive right now!”
Spike clenched his little claws into fists, squeezing them tighter around himself. “There’s nothing you could have done, Twilight,” he said, his voice so strained it seemed it might crack.
“Nothing I could have-?” Twilight let out a shaking breath, her tone turning sharp and hostile. “You do know I’m a wizard, right? Remember fighting Nightmare Moon? Remember fighting Tirek? You think I can’t heal somepony’s burns and fight off one troublemaker?”
“Of course you can. I know you can!” Spike’s voice abruptly rose, and his fists and arms uncurled, his claws hitting the table. Both of them were glaring. Both of them were shouting. “And the assassin probably knew that too which is why if you were there he’d have killed you first!”
Silence fell over the table, except for the quick sounds of their breathing. Spike’s claws dragged over the wood, dragging furrows in the surface, and he lifted one to his forehead as he struggled for words. “I didn’t know anything! I didn’t even know anypony was in danger. All I had was a vague bad feeling. And yes, I should have said something. I should have said something, and I didn’t and I’m sorry.” His voice was pleading, and the edges of his words were ragged. “I’m sorry, Twilight. But I’m trying to say something now. Because I’m getting a really bad feeling now too. Because I know I don’t understand politics or magic or any of that stuff, but…”
He squeezed his claws open and shut spastically, struggling for the words. “I don’t think Zebraria and Saddle Arabia really do get along all that well, since Zebraria would apparently rather do business with the frozen north than with their next door neighbors. And I don’t think the Orlovians built this ship, sailed it all the way around the world, and then gave it to the zebra without thinking all this stuff through very carefully. And I know you don’t believe in omens or vibes or anything like that, but—”
“No. I don’t.” Twilight’s voice was sharp as a cracking whip, and Spike flinched like he’d been struck, his jaw snapping shut at once. Twilight reached up and rubbed her jawline, her entire face tense. Her expression flickered rapidly, through anger, uncertainty and strain, finally settling on a cold, hard look. “Spike, I appreciate you trying to help me, but…”
It took her a moment to say it. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
“Think about…?” Spike said, only to fall silent as Twilight lifted a hoof. She lowered it firmly, once his jaw was again shut.
“In the future, if you come across any information like that, I want you to tell me immediately. Is that understood?” He nodded once. “Good. Is there anything else you’ve withheld from me during the trip?”
He glanced at his bag, with the little pile of bits, and the seal from her dress, and the checkbook still inside. He swallowed. “No.”
“Fine.” She sat back, her tail lashing as her ears folded back. “You can go.”
“I…?” He pointed at the door.
“Well I can’t exactly send you to your room, now can I?” Her words were clipped, and her tone harsh. “You’re dismissed, Spike. I’ll talk with you later.”
Spike got up, and then he left. He shut the door behind him, and then sat outside it, legs folded as he stared at the deck. The sun moved across the sky. Eventually a crewzebra came, and nudged him away, and he wandered down onto the deck with the other passengers, and sat next to one of the smokestacks.
In time, a crystal pony came looking for him, and though it took her several tries to get him up, Spike eventually followed her. They talked about steam generation and electrical power, magnetic fields and drydock procedures, though it was Drive Level who did nearly all of the talking. Eventually, she asked him if there was something wrong, and when he nodded, if there was something she could do. He asked if he could sit on the engineering deck for awhile instead of going back to the passenger area, and she allowed it. And so Spike sat with the ships Artificers—a crystal pony, an Equestrian, a zebra, a Zaniskarin, and a llama—and they drank bad coffee and told jokes about structural integrity and the MOHS Hardness Scale.
In time it grew dark outside, and a messenger came down to talk to the Artificers. Spike sat in the corner and said nothing, drawing no attention to himself, and it wasn’t until several minutes after the messenger left that he made his excuses. He walked calmly across the engineering deck as the tenor of the engines shifted around him. What had once been a lazy purr became a steady whine, their slow motions growing to the pounding of a racing heart. As soon as he was back in the passenger area, he broke into a sprint, rushing towards the command tower and the library therein.
“Twilight?” he called, but the library was empty, with only a flickering electrical lamp to provide illumination. He turned, and sprinted back towards their quarters, rushing down the stairs so fast zebra had to peel out of his way. Finally, he saw her up the hall, and had to struggle to stop in time, nearly slamming into her chest. “Twilight!”
“There you are, Spike! You had me worried sick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Her expression was heavy, but the coldness that had been in it earlier was gone. More than anything, she looked sad, her eyes downcast and her ears folded halfway back. “Look… about earlier. I—”
“Twilight, the Captain just ordered the ship to turn around,” Spike huffed, badly out of breath. “I overheard it in engineering. We’re going back to Zebraria and he wants us to keep full engine power the whole way.”
“What?” Twilight’s eyes demanded answers, but Spike could only gesture to the stairs. They both rushed up to the top deck, and looked out at the stars, and Twilight tracked the constellations with her eyes as they turned around the ship. The engines’ once soft purr had turned to a loud whine, and water chopped around the paddlewheels.
“Come on.” Twilight ordered Spike, pushing past startled passengers and crew alike as she stormed her way towards the bridge. Up the stairs of the command tower they went again, past the library this time, to the highest level and the armored door there. Spike braced for the worst, but when Twilight lifted her hoof, it was only to deliver a firm knock. And the door opened for her.
“Captain,” she demanded, ignoring the younger zebra officer who had actually opened the door in favor of the older figure somewhere over his shoulder. “I am on a critical diplomatic mission from Equestria, and you have been commanded to provide me passage to my next stop. So I assume you have a good explanation for why you have reversed course in the middle of the trip?”
“I’m sorry, your Highness,” the Captain answered, gently pushing his junior out of the way. He was old, if not quite as old as the king, his eyes wrinkled, but his stripes still dark. “I’ve been ordered to return to Zebraria immediately. We just received word that Saddle-Arabian warships have attacked and captured two Orlovian freighters in the area. Empress Kifo has commanded all Zebrarian ships back to safe waters.”
Twilight stared him down, and it was only with some effort that he held his ground, drawing a breath. “Your Highness, even if I wasn’t under orders, I don’t think it would be safe to take you any further. If the Saddle Arabians are attacking merchant shipping, we’re very likely a—”
“Yes, I understand.” Twilight turned away from the bridge door, and put her hooves up on the rail. “Spike, get on my back. Now.”
Spike did as he was ordered, pausing only a moment to slip on his little traveling bag. As he climbed up onto her back, the Captain asked: “Princess, what are you doing?”
“Well I’m certainly not going back to Zebraria,” Twilight answered. “Have my things shipped back to Ponyville.” She spread her wings, and with one mighty flap, cleared the tall command tower, and glided off into the watery night.