Chapter 27: The Spy Who Wasn't
Zecora woke up with her head flat on the concrete, the sun blaring in her eyes. She brought her hoof up to her aching forehead, rubbing it.
I think it’s a concussion, she thought.
She got to her hooves and stood, gazing around.
Hundreds of zebras of both genders and all ages stood on concrete which stretched out for many meters. Several sat on the floor playing cards or talking. There were a few fillies and colts running around playing ball or hopscotch.
The concrete terminated with tall, barbed-wire fences on all sides. A guard tower stood at one of the corners. Armed guards patrolled outside of the perimeter of the fence.
There was a single opening in the fence, which let into a two-story concrete building.
On the entrance, a giant sign hung which said “SLEEPING QUARTERS.”
Zecora walked over to the fence, still slightly dizzy from the concussion. When she was a few paces away, one of the earth pony guards trained his rifle on her.
“Don’t come any closer, zeeb. No scaling the walls.”
Zecora frowned. “I don’t belong in this sty. I am a patriot and an Equestrian citizen, not a spy,” she said.
The guard chuckled. “That’s what they all say. But every day, there are bombs that go off in Tall Tale and Vanhoover. Funny how those just so happen to be the only two cities in Equestria where so-called ‘immigrant’ zebras live, huh? You ‘immigrants’ are guilty of providing aid and comfort to the enemy, helping the Zebra army plant bombs. All you zeebs are trying to take the west coast cities down from within.”
“You must set me free. I live not on the west coast, but in the Everfree.”
The guard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. And I’m from Cloudsdale,” he said, motioning to his wingless back. “You’ll all be free to go—back to the Zebra Empire, that is—as soon as the war is over. Unless you’re charged with treason, of course. In which case, you’ll be tried and executed like any other traitor.”
“Princess Twilight would tell you that I am not a traitor. Tell the princess that Zecora wishes to speak to her.”
The guard laughed, slapping his chest with his hoof. He guffawed hysterically, his gun quivering.
“Is that some sort of escape tactic, zeeb? Try to get me to laugh so hard that I drop my gun? Well, it’s not gonna work. I’m not gonna tell the princess anything. I’m just a grunt, and she probably wouldn’t even give me the time of day. Also, there’s probably about a million zebras named Zecora.”
Zecora said, “But—”
The guard interrupted her, shouting, “Hey, Zecora!”
Several zebras in the crowd turned around to face the fence.
The guard chuckled. “See what I mean?”
Zecora frowned. “When I was captured, there was another with me. He was a sailor, an earth pony.”
“Did he call himself Chilly Waters?” asked the guard.
She nodded.
He said, “Wow, you both must have worked really hard together to coordinate this excuse. He kept claiming that you two were on a mission from the Princess. He tried to grab a gun from one of my buddies. Bad mistake. We shot him. What an idiot, and what a traitor. I’m sure he won’t be missed.”
Zecora blinked.
“Yeah, and if you try to escape, you’ll get the same,” said the guard. “Now leave me alone. You aren’t the only zeeb I gotta keep an eye on.”
The guard walked off.
Zecora sighed, walking back towards the center of the camp.
Canterlot: December 2024
A bright blue sky hung over the city of Canterlot, as biplanes flew through the air and chopped up the cloud cover. Ponies covered their eyes with sunglasses as the sun shone through for the first time in a week, and the glistening white from the domes of Equestria’s former capital glared in their eyes.
Crowds gathered beside the streets on this slightly chilly December afternoon, many of them with scarves around their necks. They stood alongside the sidewalk, on balconies, and on rooftops. Mothers levitated their fillies and colts above their heads with their magic so that the children could get a better view.
A suave and debonair unicorn stallion stood in the crowd, wearing a black tuxedo and a red bow-tie. His coat was cream, and his mane was brown and slicked back. His magic lit up green as he opened up a steel cigarette case. He fished through the cigarettes with his magic, careful to remove the correct one. Some of them were explosives, some acted as smoke bombs, and others did other things. Finally, he chose a plain old Lucky Spy cigarette from a steel case and floated it up to his mouth, lighting it with his magic.
Music and fanfare sounded as ponies started to cheer. A giant parade float with proud-looking unicorn soldiers standing atop was the first to pass. It was red and black, and two Second Kingdom flags fluttered proudly from either side. The unicorns fired their guns off into the air, to loud applause.
Atop the float, a giant banner hung which read, “UNICORN FREEDOM MOVEMENT PARTY’S ANNUAL PARADE! HAVE A GREAT TIME!”
The stallion narrowed his eyes. Yes, I’m sure that I’ll have a blast, he thought.
He took another drag from his smooth, refreshing Lucky Spy cigarette as another float passed by, this one full of attractive mares who held up crying foals in their magic.
“DO YOUR PART: RAISE A UNICORN FOAL”
I’m a bit too worldly to be burdened by fatherhood, thank you, he thought.
“Hey there, handsome.”
Distracted from the snippy one-liners in his head, the stallion turned around to see a smiling blue unicorn mare speaking to him. She had a curious mane: dark blue with a white highlight. Or was it the other way around?
“Hello,” he said in a Trottish accent. “Might I ask who you are?”
“My name’s Colgate Openwide. And who are you, good sir? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
“The name’s Mane, Con Mane. Nice to meet you, Miss Openwide. I’m from Trotland, the Uneighted Kingdom. Yourself?”
Colgate’s eyes widened. “Ooh, how exotic! I’m not from any place far off like Trotland; I’m just from Ponyville, which is a few hours from here by hoof. I used to be the town dentist, and quite renowned, too. But then the Second Kingdom came into town and told me that two-thirds of my customer base would no longer be needing my services, and that I should come fix unicorn teeth in Canterlot. So, here I am.”
“Well, you should have gone to my country; we could use more dentists,” Con Mane chuckled. “As for my profession, I happen to be a secret—”
Don’t say agent, you tosser! Remember what happened last time in Janeighca? Say something else!
“—shopper. A secret shopper. And I’m here in Canterlot to sample the local shops and cuisine, see the sights, and give a review to the Trotland Telegraph, a national paper."
“Ah,” said Colgate. “Well, we’re on food rationing around here, so you might not be able to try as many restaurants as you want, but with a suit like that, Blueblood would have to make an exception for you!”
“Yes,” said Con Mane. He smiled and looked Colgate in the eyes. “Now, Miss Openwide, I was only sent here to sample the local shops and cuisine, but I must ask you: how are the… dental services?”
Colgate blushed. She put her hoof up to Con Mane’s chest. “Well, sir, I normally don’t take walk-ins, but I do take trot-ins. Let’s go back to the dental shop, and I’ll look at my schedule.”
“I’d love it if you could... fit me in for an oral examination,” said Con Mane. He wrapped his arm around her, and they both started walking.
You git! Complete your mission first, or N will have your head!
“Err… I mean, let’s see the parade first,” said Mane, blushing slightly. “I do want to write a review of it for the Telegraph, you know.”
Colgate blinked. “Uh… good idea! Wouldn’t want Blueblood thinking I’m unpatriotic, after all.”
She grimaced slightly, for the briefest fraction of a second, but Con Mane’s keen eye picked it up. His heart sunk.
Bloody good job on that one, you daft imbecile! Now how are you going to shag her afterwards if she thinks you’re a dense, uncaring arse who wants to see a stupid parade more than you want to see her?
Con Mane glimpsed a unicorn walking around with a tray full of drinks.
“Waiter,” Con Mane called. The unicorn walked over to him. “Two martinis, please. Shaken, not stirred.”
The unicorn nodded, and floated the drinks over to Colgate and Con Mane.
Colgate smiled. “That’s my favorite drink! How did you know?” she asked.
Con Mane smiled back, confident that he was on his game again. “Call it… intuition, Miss Openwide.”
Another few floats passed by. One of them had ten Canterlot police officers standing atop, decked out in blue uniforms, wearing glasses and carrying nightsticks in their magic.
A banner atop the police float said, “REPORT ALL NON-UNICORN INTRUDERS IN CANTERLOT BY CALLING THE POLICE.”
“Yes, if I see any, I’ll get on the horn right away,” said Con Mane.
Colgate chuckled.
A few minutes later, another float went by. Atop it, there was a pony wearing a cigarette costume, and a Second Kingdom soldier holding up a gun up to the cigarette costume. Ponies wearing T-shirts with no-smoking symbols on them tossed out nicotine gum and patches to the crowd.
The banner on the float said “KEEP THE MASTER RACE HEALTHY! QUIT SMOKING!”
Con Mane turned to Colgate. “I know one pretty mare that they won’t quit from being smokin’ hot.”
She blushed, laughing as she drank her second martini.
A few minutes later, another float passed by with blackboards, school desks, and teachers on it. The teachers were floating out meter sticks to the crowd.
Atop the float was a giant scale and a measuring stick, and a giant banner which said, “THE SECOND KINGDOM IS GOING MARETRIC. OUT WITH EQUESTRIAN FEET AND POUNDS: IN WITH METERS AND KILOGRAMS.”
Con Mane sighed, shaking his head. “Give them an inch and they’ll take the miles.”
Now on her third martini, Colgate guffawed and laughed even harder this time, falling over and spilling all of her drink onto Con Mane.
“You should be a comedy funny stand person, mishter Mane,” she said.
“Careful, dear. Don’t want to get too tipsy before the grand finale,” said Con Mane, drying the martini off of his tuxedo with a napkin that he kept hidden in his back pocket for just the occasion. His clothes were still wet, but he knew a good dry cleaner. He glanced down the street, and saw that King Blueblood’s float was about ten behind.
As soon as the maretric float passed, he stole a quick glance at the street and at the sewer cover below. He adjusted his bow tie with his magic.
Time for some confetti, he thought.
The ninth float before Blueblood’s passed. Then the eighth. Seventh… sixth…
“King Blueblood’s float is coming up,” said Con Mane.
“Eh, fush Blueblood anyway,” said Colgate. “I had everything in Pony town place, ya know. A dental thing. A good houshe with a mailbox and shtuff. A puppy. I mean he’sh a adult dog now but shtill… But then what did Bluebird do? He…”
She hiccuped. Luckily for her, the rest of the crowd was cheering too loudly to pay attention to her anti-Blueblood remarks.
“He… made me forget what I wanted to shay, the bashtard!” said Colgate, swaying on her hooves as she stood.
She’s quite pissed, thought Con Mane.
“I think you’ve had enough, darling,” he said. He took Colgate in his magic and walked through the crowd, so that he could have a good view to a kill.
The fourth float before Blueblood’s float passed by, then the third float. After he was at a safe distance, Con Mane opened up his cigarette case, and felt each one of them with his magic until he found the one that he wanted.
It was slightly heavier than the rest, and the filter was actually metallic and contained a small device inside of it that would activate when he sucked on it. He floated it into his mouth, pretending to light it.
The second float in front… then the first…
He got his lungs ready, exhaling so that he could take a deep breath when he needed to. King Blueblood’s float passed over the sewer cover. It was decked out in gold leaf and white frills, and had a red and black banner for the Unicorn Freedom Movement party. There was a faint purple glow shimmering around Blueblood: one of his force fields that he normally kept for protection when he was out in public. He waved to the crowd, who cheered and roared when he passed. He was right over the sewer cover.
Con Mane inhaled from the cigarette. Nothing happened. The blood drained from Con Mane’s face.
“Alright, we’ve sheen president Blueballs, finally,” said Colgate, groaning. Then, she smiled. “Back to my plashe, Mister Mane?”
Con Mane would have laughed at her joke, but instead he floated his cigarette out of his mouth, frantically examining it and trying to see what was wrong. He opened the filter. Was it the triggering mechanism? The filter? The radio transceiver?
His mind flooded with information as he tried to remember what U-branch had told him about the secret gadgets they’d given him for this mission.
”Now see here, Double-Oat Seven. This trigger cigarette, or ‘triggarette,’ will set off the bomb that you will use to assassinate King Blueblood. All you have to do is inhale from it, and that will set off the radio transponder of the bomb, which will be hidden under the manhole cover. Now, you must be very careful never to let this triggarette get… get…”
Get what? Destroyed? Broken? Wet? What did U say to him? He couldn’t remember! The fog of too many martinis filled his head as he tried to steady his vision to look at the small moving pieces of the triggarette.
“Oh, is that one of thoshe smokelesh mechanicalized cigarettesh to help you shtop smokin like the float poniesh said?” asked Colgate. “I musta broke it when I shpilt the alochol. Here.”
She snatched the device out of Mane’s magic and fiddled with it. She opened the filter and blew on it, and alcohol droplets fell out. After a few seconds of fiddling, she clicked a few small pieces into place and a light on the device turned on.
Con Mane’s jaw dropped. Colgate smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve fixed way too many shmall mechana technomobobs at my dentish shop. Electric toothbruzzes, dental drillsh, the worksh,” she said. “I outta quit shmokin meself. Lemme take a drag.”
Con Mane glanced over at the parade. King Blueblood’s float had passed. Instead, the float after it was now over the sewer cover. It was full of young fillies and colts wearing the red and black colors of the Unicorn Freedom Movement party. At the top of the float, a banner read “UNICORN FREEDOM PARTY: YOUNG UNICORNS FOLLOWING IN BLUEBLOOD’S HOOFSTEPS.”
Con Mane’s eyes widened as Colgate brought the cigarette to her lips.
“NO!” he shouted, rushing over to slap the cigarette away as she inhaled. But he was too late. A tremendous explosion ripped through the street, right under the young unicorns’ float.
Mareicopa: January 2025
Fancy Pants sat at his desk in Mareicopa, busy looking over prints for a new poster that Blueblood had told him to hang up. It was already after closing time at the office, but Fancy Pants had been working overtime in the last few weeks.
The posters all had pictures of the destroyed float from the Unicorn Freedom Movement parade from various angles. On them were written such things as “Ten children dead in Canterlot parade bombing. Join the SKAF today to stop killers of child unicorns!”
Another had a picture of young bodies covered in tarps at the Canterlot morgue. “Do you still want to rejoin Equestria now? This is what we’re saving you from, Mareicopa!”
His heart sunk as he looked at the posters, one of which simply had a picture of a crying mother and said, “We will never forgive. We will never forget.”
What have I done? he thought. This was never supposed to happen.
A single tear came to his eye. He didn’t want unicorn children to die, just Blueblood. What could have happened? Those children were just brainwashed patsies for Blueblood’s political ambitions. They weren’t legitimate targets. Did something go wrong with the bomb?
Whatever happened to foil the assassination attempt, it sure had been a boon for recruitment. There were twenty signups from Mareicopa just today. Though Princess Twilight had released a statement publicly condemning the bombing and disavowing responsibility for such a barbaric act of terror, everypony in all of Equestria and the Second Kingdom knew exactly who had ordered it. Though most ponies figured that the bomb was meant for Blueblood but went terribly wrong.
“This was never supposed to happen…” he sighed. “Blueblood, you monster. I lay this all at your hooves.”
He continued to gaze at the posters.
“Well, I see that you’re looking particularly remorseful, Fancy Pants.”
He turned his head up and his heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t see anypony in his office, and his door was shut.
“Who’s there?” he demanded.
Suddenly, a floating head appeared in front of his desk.
“Just a spook named Sparkler,” said a pink-coated unicorn mare, whose horn was lit up purple.
The rest of her coat appeared gradually, fading into existence.
“Sparkler? Were you… spying on me?” he demanded.
“Noooo, I just so happened to be in your office while practicing my invisibility magic,” she sarcastically said, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I was spying on you, you dork! We keep all of our Second Kingdom defectors and informants on a tight leash. You should know that.”
Amethyst Star, codename Sparkler, was a pink unicorn pony with a violet mane and a cutie mark of three gemstones. She was middle-aged, with crows’ feet around her eyes and stretch marks on her belly: an unlikely candidate for a secret agent. But the ‘soccer mom’ disguise was a clever ruse for her line of work, and unicorns who could master the legendarily difficult invisibility spell were always in high demand from Equestrian intelligence regardless of their age.
“I see,” said Fancy Pants. “Well, then, maybe you can explain this!”
He scowled as he floated one of his propaganda posters over to Sparkler.
“Ten children dead, Sparkler! It was supposed to be Blueblood! When I gave you his parade route, I thought that you’d take him out, not his youth brigade!” Fancy Pants demanded.
Sparkler groaned. “Yes, because obviously we gave Blueblood such a juicy piece of propaganda on purpose, and we deliberately passed up the chance to kill our greatest adversary to knock off some children instead.”
“Quit playing sarcasm with me, Sparkler; I’m not in the mood,” said Fancy Pants.
Sparkler shook her head. “Calm down and quit acting stupid. It came as a shock to us, too.”
“I understand that you didn’t do it on purpose. I’m just upset,” said Fancy Pants.
Sparkler nodded. “As you have every right to be.”
Fancy Pants walked over to his cabinet near his desk and got out a bottle of brandy. He poured himself a glass and drank the entire glass at once.
“Why did this happen? What exactly went wrong with the plan?” he asked.
Sparkler shook her head. “We don’t know. Trotland Yard is clueless about what went wrong. They put their best agent on the case. He’s been a bit reckless before, but he’s always gotten the job done. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, the wrong float was blown up, and double-oat seven was captured. Blueblood was pretty upset. Put the agent over a tank of sharks and slowly dropped him inside to be eaten alive. This time, the agent didn’t even pull a clever escape like he normally does when he’s captured, because King Blueblood was so angry that he actually stayed inside and watched the shark tank to ensure that the agent truly was dead.”
Fancy Pants sighed. “That sounds like a mess.”
Sparkler chuckled. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. Blueblood knows that bomb was meant for him, and this hasn’t been our first attempt on his life. He’s tightened up his security like you wouldn’t believe. He won’t even leave his bunker for anything, and there’s only one entrance, and there’s this anti-magic faraday cage around it. Not even my invisibility could get me inside.”
“There have been other attempts on his life?” asked Fancy Pants.
She nodded. “Yep. We attempted it one other time about a month ago. We poisoned his food, but he changed his dinner plans at the last minute. We didn’t think anything of it at first. I mean, he’s an elected president who still insists on calling himself ‘king.’ He’s probably pretty picky about what he eats. So we decided to try again.
“After you turned coat and agreed to work with us, we gave Trotland Yard the parade route, and they sent over their best agent to blow up his float. And of course, you know how that worked out. And then, we lost contact with one of our agents who was sent to the Zebra Empire on a different mission. We don’t know exactly what happened to her, but think that she might have been found out and killed. So now, we think that we have a double-agent embedded in the Royal Institute of Secret Knowledge itself, who’s been tipping Blueblood and Zaporizhia off to our plans.”
Fancy Pants adjusted his monocle. “You mean that you have a mole inside of RISK?” he asked.
Sparkler said, “Yes, in fact, that’s literally what I just said, except phrased differently.”
“Do you have any idea who the mole is?” asked Fancy Pants.
She shook her head. “Well, I know it’s not you, since I’ve been watching you all afternoon, and you look as shocked about this turn of events as any of us are. And I know it’s probably not Twilight, Luna, or Spitfire, since I’ve also observed them secretly. But it could be anypony else. They could be high up in the organization. It could even be the director of RISK himself.
“So, while Twilight sends one of her other agents to clean house over at RISK, she’s personally sent me out to finish the job that Con Mane started, since she says that I’m the only agent she can trust. My mission is to kill King Blueblood and help place you into power as his successor.”
“But I’m not his direct successor,” said Fancy Pants. “I’m fourth in line: behind Flim, Flam, and Trixie.”
Sparkler nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m taking them out first. But I’m going to do it a bit differently than RISK has tried to do it before. Their deaths will all look like natural causes, and will happen a few months apart from each other, too far apart to look suspicious, but close enough together so that Blueblood doesn’t have any time to name replacements and you’ll keep climbing the succession ladder.”
“But that still leaves Blueblood himself,” said Fancy Pants. “You’ve already made two different attempts on his life, and I doubt he’ll be letting his guard down so easily. You only live twice.”
“I know. It would be nearly impossible for me to kill him now,” said Sparkler.
Then, she walked towards Fancy Pants and put her hoof on his chest. “That’s why you’re going to.”
The color would have drained from Fancy Pants’ face, but his coat was already as white as the driven snow normally. Instead, he simply walked over to his cabinet and poured himself another drink. He took a big gulp, and then spat the rest out onto Sparkler’s face.
“I can’t kill Blueblood! I’m a propaganda minister, not a spy!”
Sparkler frowned, wiping the alcohol from her fur. “Exactly. That’s why he’d never suspect you. When the time comes in a few months, I will give you the instructions on how to kill him, and you will follow them exactly. Just like my assassinations, it will look like natural causes, not murder. After he’s dead, you’ll assume the presidency of the SK and sign a peace treaty with Equestria, agreeing to give us back the lands that you’ve seized since the war began, in exchange for peace and your country’s continued existence in Canterlot.”
Fancy Pants shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. I might get caught. I can’t do it!”
Sparkler frowned, poking her hoof into Fancy Pants' chest. “I didn’t say that you had a choice, Minister Fancy Pants. Failure is not an option. You will rise to the occasion and lead your kingdom to peace. You’ll kill the war-mongering, megalomaniacal Blueblood and secure peace and a lasting friendship between our two nations. And you’ll do it in just a few months’ time.”
Both ponies were silent for a few moments. Finally, Fancy Pants nodded.
“Alright, I suppose you’ve left me no other choice. I’ll do it with a smile, then.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Sparkler.
“But what should I do between now and then?” asked Fancy Pants. “Blueblood is having me try to turn Mareicopa into a proud unicorn city like Canterlot, and I’m making a list of potential traitors for him so that his secret police can round them up. If I don’t do either of those things, then he’ll—”
“Do it,” said Sparkler. “Do exactly what you’ve been doing, which is being the best propaganda minister that you can be. Sell the unicorn supremacy line and the Equestrian child murderer line as much as you can. Put every single pony on that traitor list that you can, because you can always let them go once you’re the president. If you put your entire heart into being loyal to Blueblood, that will make him trust you, and he won’t get suspicious that you might be a traitor.”
Fancy Pants nodded. Sparkler turned around and headed for the door to his office, opening it.
She turned back. “Oh, and one more thing, Fancy Pants,” she said as her coat and mane began to disappear.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Quit talking to yourself. It’s a bad habit, and you might blow your cover. I’m not the only unicorn that can turn invisible, you know.”
The door appeared to shut itself as Amethyst Star, codename Sparkler, reached over with her invisible hoof and closed it.
The Detention Center: March 2025
Zecora’s eyes opened as the sun shine through the window of the room. Out in the hallway, zebras were shuffling out of bed and into the mess hall for breakfast.
She sighed, pulled back the covers, and climbed out of her bunk. She walked down the rows and rows of beds. There were hundreds of them now, and more and more zebras to fill them every day. Over the past few months, she had heard rumors that the Equestrian army had built another camp for all the alleged spies that they had captured.
Except they weren’t all spies. And from the conversations that Zecora had with them, most of them didn’t even know what they were there for. If there were spies here, they were still spies and still keeping their cover until the very end, because she hadn’t seen a single zebra doing anything suspicious.
Zecora walked down to the mess hall. There were rows and rows of taupe cafeteria tables lined up. Zebras lined up at the lunch counter, where other zebras who worked as cooks served them a white, mushy substance. Apparently it was called ‘grits.’ It should have been called ‘moist, flavorless junk.’ They served it every day. She got in line with the others, waiting her turn.
After the cook dumped a ladle full of grits onto her plate and hoofed her a small carton of milk, she sat down at the table. While the other zebras had congregated into groups based off of their families, or what area of Tall Tale they used to live in, Zecora sat alone. Though she’d been in this detention center for months, she still didn’t see herself as a prisoner.
I just need to find one guard to listen to me. Is it that hard? she thought.
Once she was done with her food, she returned her tray to the counter and walked out the front door, into the fenced-in courtyard where she had initially woken up on her first day there. She felt a slight chill in the air as she exited. Winter still hadn’t quite gone away yet.
“Morning, Zecora,” said a voice in Swazili. She turned to see a zebra stallion smiling over at her, taking a drag of a cigarette as he leaned against the wall. He was tall and lanky, standing about ten centimeters taller than Zecora. His mane was long, entirely jet-black, and slicked back.
“Hello, Zarek,” she said, also in Swazili.
Zarek was the only zebra who Zecora regularly spoke to. Or, rather, the only one who regularly spoke to her, since she didn’t exactly go out of her way to socialize. The other zebras in the camp simply thought that Zecora was odd, but Zarek actually took an active interest in her and went out of his way to speak to her.
He took another drag of his cigarette.
“So, when are you going to do your daily rounds, Zecora?” asked Zarek. “I’m ready to see the show.”
Zecora shook her head no. Zarek’s jaw dropped.
“You’re not doing your rounds? But every single day since you’ve gotten here, for almost five months now, you’ve been going around to all the guards one by one, telling them all that you know the princess, that you’re innocent, etcetera. You start at sun up, and continue until sundown. In fact, that’s all that you’ve been doing. It’s actually pretty entertaining to watch you plead with them. It’s certainly the most fun to be had in this dump.”
Zecora nodded. “And?”
“And… you’re not doing it today! But why?” Zarek demanded, throwing his hooves up in the air.
Zecora shook her head. “I’ve probably spoken to every guard in this entire camp by now, several times. And not a single one of them will listen to me and what I have to say.”
Zarek laughed. “So you’ve finally given up. Figures. I knew this day would come; I just didn’t think it would come five months after you got here. You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.”
Zecora nodded. “There is no convincing them. They refuse to give me an audience with the princess, or even a pen and paper to write her a letter. They all think that I’m lying.”
“Well, maybe you are lying.”
Zecora’s eyebrows raised. Zarek smiled.
“Zecora, did you know that I am actually a zebra spy?” asked Zarek.
Zecora shook her head. “No you’re not, Zarek.”
Zarek put up his hoof. “It’s true! I’m a secret agent, and Zaporizhia himself sent me over here to blow up a bridge. I was caught and sent to this camp. A lot of these zebras are actually my comrades.”
She shook her head. “You’re lying.”
“How do you know? You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, other than my name and that I stand out here and smoke cigarettes, watching and laughing every day while you make a fool of yourself with the guards. Sure, you’ve known my name for a while, and I’ve said hi to you every day, but what do you know about me? Nothing. I could tell you that I was anyone before I got locked up. You’d either have to take me at my word, or not,” said Zarek.
She remained silent. Zarek took another drag.
“Not everyone in this camp is as innocent as you claim to be,” said Zarek. “The fact that you haven’t been able to prove me wrong about being a spy, proves me right that you could actually be a spy, and the guards have no reason to believe you.”
Zecora scoffed. “There are young fillies and colts here. Are they spies, too?”
Zarek chuckled. “Oh, come on, Zecora. Don’t play dumb with me. I’ve heard you argue with guards until you’re blue in the face, and I’ve heard some decent arguments out of you, so I know that you aren’t stupid. You even try that wise old mare rhyming gimmick, too. But just because there are some innocent zebras here who got swept up in the anti-zebra fervor, doesn’t mean that everyone here is innocent. And that’s the problem. Anyone in here could be a secret agent. Why should the guards believe you? What could you say to them that would be different from anything that an actual spy would say?”
Zecora looked off into space, as if the answer could be found just over the horizon.
“I wasn’t a spy before I got here, but I was an attorney,” Zarek continued. “I was the best zebra defender in all of the northwest coast, actually. I got a lot of zebras off of trumped-up charges. There’s a lot of prejudice and racial profiling against our people in Equestria, as you’ve experienced firsthoof.
“As a typical example of my work, I had a zebra in Vanhoover last September who was accused of rape. The victim picked him out of a police lineup, but he was the wrong guy. The victim's attacker was a zebra, and she thought we all look the same. The prosecutor crucified my client in his opening statement, but then I got their witness on the stand, and I proved that their case against my client was entirely circumstantial and that they had no way to prove he was ever even there. The jury deliberated for five minutes and then let him off.
“I never lost any cases. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’d always stack the jury with a few zebras, who would be sympathetic to their own kind. But then, my career came to a sudden end last year. One of the prosecutors publicly accused me of being a spy. He even put my picture in the papers and everything. That night, General Spitfire’s goon squad showed up at my door, and the rest is history. This is despite the fact that they have no evidence, and I’m a second-generation immigrant who was born and raised in Equestria.”
Zecora chuckled. “It’s funny. I always ask the guards to let me talk to a lawyer. But I guess that it’s the lawyer who’s been talking to me.”
“That’s the problem, though,” said Zarek. “This is a detention center, not a courtroom. They’re keeping us locked up here without a trial, without evidence, without a chance to convince a jury of our peers of our innocence. I know the law, and I know how to argue way better than you can, because I do it for a living. You may be wise, but I’m shrewd. In fact, I argued when I first got here, too, just like you did. But these guards aren’t a jury, and they’re certainly not our peers. They’re ponies with guns who get on this power trip and think that anyone in here could be a spy. The guards are the gatekeepers, and they won’t open the gate.
“So, again, I ask you: what can you say to them to convince them that you aren’t a spy, something that an actual spy wouldn’t also say? How can you get them to believe you? You could sing the Equestrian national anthem until you’re blue in the face, and they’d just say that you memorized it as part of your training in case you were caught. You could tell them all of the small towns up and down the west coast as proof that you live here, and they’d just tell you that you were planning to destroy them. What can you say to ponies who refuse to listen?”
Zecora shrugged. “That sounds like a riddle to me. I do not know.”
Zarek smiled. “Oh, well I do know, actually, but I’m not telling, because I think it would be fun to watch you figure it out. But if you do figure it out, you’ll find not just your ticket out of here, but mine as well.”
Zarek stubbed out his cigarette, waved to Zecora, and walked back into the sleeping quarters.
Zecora walked off. She had been in this camp for months now, and she had met every single guard. Though she hadn’t told them of her top-secret mission to assassinate the Emperor, she had told them pretty much everything besides: that she used to live in the Everfree, that it was all a mistake, that it was a misunderstanding. She demanded to see a lawyer, and they always told her that she would simply be set free when the war ended, so she didn’t need a lawyer. She had told them everything that she could to prove her innocence, but a spy would have said the exact same things.
The only thing left for her to tell them was that she actually was going to assassinate Zaporizhia. But that’s exactly what a desperate spy would say, too.
Zarek was right. She had only said things which a spy might say to lure ponies into believing that she wasn’t really a spy. What wouldn’t a spy say to get out of this detention center?
Zecora walked around the detention center, mulling it over in her mind.
You’ll find not just your ticket out of here, but mine as well.
Her face lit up. She knew exactly what she needed to say.
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MORE MORE SOON! :D
4940248 Don't worry, I've already got the next three chapters written! Updates are every monday, and sometimes Thursdays too if I'm feeling particularly prolific.
4940269 Yaay!!
4938903 I never said that they're farming an area the size of Kansas, just that the Flatlands is the size of Kansas. They'd be farming less than that, obviously, but it's still several thousand square miles. In my canon, Equestria is about half the size of the continental US, roughly. That's pretty huge.
Plus, we only got to see one of Equestria's raids. As you point out, they likely would have to fly a lot more places to wipe everything out. For all we know, they did in fact burn the crops, or attempt to do so. All that matters is that, whatever Equestria did, it made them desperate enough to decide that they needed to try to invade Appleloosa and sieze all of Ponyville's food which wasn't an objective of theirs before.
Twilight Sparkle of course, won't attack her own people's food supply, because she knows that they need it and that hundreds or thousands of her own ponies would starve. Ponyville and Appleloosa are safe from her attacks now. After the bad publicity from the planned bombing of Sweet Apple Acres, she has had to tread really lightly with acts that might kill civilians.
Also, a new chapter is out which will explain some #2 and #3.
Those guards are idiots. Why they haven't even told one of their superiors about Zecora and her persistence (I'm assuming they haven't, because no one from the higher ups has come to tell Zecora to stop) is beyond me. They're stupid.
4940546 They are pretty stupid, and they all think that Zecora's sob stories are the inane, hilarious ramblings of a captured spy. Why would they tell their superiors and ruin their own laughs?
4940940 I'd assumed they weren't all clones and robots, to be all the same. Such, I'd thought that either one or more would get upset or angry and report it, or at least that a prisoner was causing trouble.
4941247 There aren't that many guards there, maybe like 10-20 or so permanently stationed at that camp, with others who are stationed around the area who can respond to the scene in the event of a riot, escape attempt, etc.
Remember how powerful group-think is. If you've ever been bullied or harassed by a large or medium size group, it's a lot like that. They're essentially a gang, except that they are in military uniforms instead of gang colors and have machine guns instead of nines.
Think about who would be placed to guard or would volunteer to guard a bunch of zebras in an internment camp. Probably ponies who would already be inclined to think that every zebra in there is a spy who needs guarding, so they wouldn't listen to anything that Zecora has to say because they just think she's a spy trying to tug at their heartstrings. They'd either laugh at her or tell her to bug off. Most of them probably just think she's a hilarious oddball. As judging by what Zarek and Chilly Waters have said, even zebras think that her rhyming gimmick is strange and weird.
The only trouble that Zecora is shown to have started is simply to talk. Presumably, she has enough social awareness and is wise enough to know to back off if they are getting overly annoyed at her and are about to snap at her.
If one or more of the guards did reach a breaking point of annoyance, I think they'd be less inclined to go tell a superior officer and "run to mommy" (in their economy of thinking) and more inclined to take matters into their own hooves beat her with a rifle butt if they were that annoyed by her.
And who knows, maybe that's happened. Five months is a long time, and I left a lot open my readers' imagination.
Either way, things are about to change for Zecora in the next chapter.
My guess on what Zecora says next: Something along the lines of "I really am a spy; let me be a double agent." Don't see how that would save Zarek though.
4941408 Alright, then.
My guess is that Zecora says "I know of a spy in here. Give me an audience with the princess and I'll prove it" or something to that effect.
At any rate, it's good to see that Fancy Pants has changed sides. Somepony has some sense. So now nothing the SK does should surprise them anymore at all, right? I mean, that's like Goebbels changing sides (an especially apt comparison as Goebbels was the minister of propaganda) so that should be a huge dent in the war plans of the SK. If it's not, Fancy Pants isn't doing his job. We've seen him at every meeting.
Also, why a bomb? Why not something much subtler and much less likely to get innocents killed? Like a poison dart, or something? A unicorn would have no trouble pulling that off, yeah? One little prick right in his leg or neck, or whatever, and boom, no more Blueblood. It wouldn't be that hard to make his cigarette into one if they can make a bomb triggering mechanism into one. Heck, they have guns in this universe. Get someone with a sniper rifle. There are snipers on the roof to protect Blueblood, right? Take one of their places, pretend like you're just being normal, then shoot Blueblood in the face. Repeatedly. You may die but hey, war's over. Simpler is better with assassinations; it leaves fewer things to chance and there's less collateral damage. It's one of the reasons why John Wilkes Booth killed Lincoln with a small, hidden gun and not a cannon.
Also, I have my doubts that Blueblood isn't going to get more paranoid if any one of his cabinet dies, even if it looks like a heart attack. He's especially going to figure it out if they all start dropping like flies. Although, that might work to their advantage, because in his paranoia, he may pull the rest of them into his bunker, and Fancy Pants has all of the time he wants to kill him from in there. It might be suicide, but it'd be suicide to end a war.
Also, are the alicorns immortal/resilient to weapons? Or amazing with magic in general? Find out where the bunker is from Fancy Pants and nuke it.
Problem solved.
4946300
Yes, assuming that Sparkler can relay the information from Fancy Pants to Manehattan in time. If they are planning an attack to take place the very next day after one of the SK meetings, then that might not be enough time. But as for long-term strategies, they're covered.
Because it's easier to get away with remotely setting off a bomb than it is to get away with shooting someone with a dart or a sniper rifle which requires a direct line of sight and potential witnesses, particularly in a crowded parade.
Con Mane is Trotland Yard's best agent. They wanted him back alive.
Also, "subtle" isn't really Con Mane's style. He likes cool gadgets and explosions. Particularly, running away form an explosion with a sexy mare in his
armsmagicNope. Remember when Celestia was defeated by Chrysalis?
They are just the same as unicorns at magic, like unicorn Twilight Sparkle. But they are good with telekinesis in particular, which is why they are able to move celestial bodies by themselves, where it would normally take several normal unicorns. This is as a result of their earth pony strength, since they're a combination of all three pony races, so it beefs up their telekinesis, but not necessarily any of their other magic.
Were Pumpkin Cake to train telekinesis on heavy weights, then she would likely discover that she had quite a knack for it, given that she is part earth pony. That also explains why Pound is so physically strong, as he is part earth pony as well.
Nukes don't exist yet, but they could always send in a special ops team, or try to blow it up with a conventional bomb. Stay tuned.
4946747 Subtle wasn't his style, and now he's dead. Seriously, though, I just imagine that two governments could figure out something a little better, you know? Especially when a horn generally equals no checks for all but restricted areas.
Chrysalis had fed on love so much that she was stronger than Celestia. Basically another alicorn beat an alicorn, which is different than if an earth pony beat up Celestia. I'm asking if somebody shot Luna in the face with a pistol, would it kill her? Would she be able to cast a shield spell on herself powerful enough to block that kind of attack? That's what I meant.
Also, no, they are better than unicorns in general in pretty much all areas, if for no other reason than they (or rather Luna in this instance) have had thousands of years to hone their magic. Seriously, nothing should be a problem at this point if they're creative enough. It's like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day: if you have enough time, you can master anything. The alicorns have had a ton of time. They're not just extra good at levitation.
Also, I was exaggerating a bit when I said "nuke." I was really saying "bomb it into a crater" or whatever. They have magic. They can go outside conventional warfare.
4946792
Canterlot city is a highly restricted area. We haven't seen much of it in the story yet, but there are unicorns who go around from door to door with metal detecting spells (similar to the one Rarity uses to find gems) and arrest anypony who they find with a gun, since guns are highly illegal in the Second Kingdom.
Before the parade, they cordoned off a lot of potential areas that could have been used for sniper fire, and again they probably cast those same metal detecting spells so that they could see if anybody in the crowd had a gun.
Additionally, Blueblood often has a force-field caster who projects a magical bubble around the outside of his vehicle, similar to the one that Shining Armor casts but on a smaller scale. I don't think that I mentioned that he had one in this chapter, but if you're an assassination planner, then it would be a safe bet that he would have a force field on him, which would block any bullets or poison darts.
So the only sure way to kill him would be to blow up his parade float from below, where the force field wouldn't cover him.
If someone walked right up to her and shot her point blank in the face, then yes, it would directly kill her as with any other pony. But if she put up a force field around herself then yes, she would block that sort of attack.
Right, and I'm not disputing that, I'm just talking about inherent magical ability, as in, your capacity to do something. If you gave a regular old unicorn like Twilight or Pumpkin Cake 1,000 years to train magic, they would be just as good at magic as an alicorn, unless it came to something inherent in being an alicorn, such as having extra strong telekinetic powers. In that case, it would simply be up to genetics. With Twilight, she's pure blooded unicorn, so could probably never move the sun and moon all by herself no matter how much she tried and studied telekinesis, unless she was made an alicorn of course.
As a real world example: try as I might, I probably will never be a world-class bodybuilder no matter how much time I put into it. Some people have the natural genetics and body for it, and some don't, and no amount of training would fix it.
As for Luna and Twilight, they could probably come up with some sort of plan to get inside of his bunker personally, though that really isn't their job to do. They're good at magic, but being good at magic doesn't instantly make you an assassin, and there are specific things that make a good assassin. And anything that the alicorns could conceivably do to get inside of his bunker, so could a regular unicorn with enough training in either magic or assassination, so they'll leave that job to an actual trained magical unicorn assassin like Sparkler or their other assassins inside of RISK.
And don't count Sparkler out. Even though she finds it easier to have Fancy Pants get into the bunker and kill Blueblood, it doesn't mean that she might not figure it out on her own. For all we know, she might crack his security and go in there and kill Blueblood all by herself.
Or maybe Blueblood will get bored and not want to stay in that bunker forever, making it easier for Sparkler to off him.
Or maybe Sparkler will run into Pumpkin Cake and find out that Pumpkin can walk through walls, and they team up and get into the bunker that way.
Or maybe Con Mane isn't actually dead (We never did actually SEE him die, and it could have been just a changeling decoy...) and he comes back and he kills Blueblood.
Or maybe Blueblood has been dead all along, but was replaced by a changeling and nopony even knows it yet.
Or maybe you're right, and Luna and Twilight really do kill Blueblood together, and I'm just debating the point in order to throw you off so that you won't suspect you've actually guessed what I have planned.
Or maybe Blueblood will die of a heart attack in the very next chapter.
Or maybe Blueblood survives somehow, even to the end of my incredibly long story, and escapes karma much to the chagrin of my readers.
Who knows? Any of these could happen, but only one will. So many choices!
4946929 Keep this in mind with the Blueblood shield thing: readers can't know what we're not told. So if I look at this situation and see obvious situations, well, you saying "well there was a shield" makes it look like a "Er.. oh wait, I got it!" A simple sentence would clear that up.
Also, if Luna is so good at levitation, then can't she just put a shield spell around herself, then tear the bunker out of the ground and throw it into the sun? If she can lift the moon, then a concrete bunker should be like a feather. It's pretty obvious that they're trying to assassinate Blueblood anyway.
4948694 Fair point. I added the following sentence to the chapter:
"There was a faint purple glow shimmering around Blueblood: one of his force fields that he normally kept for protection when he was out in public."
Maybe Luna could do something like lift up the bunker, but that would be a dead giveaway and allow Blueblood a chance to escape from the bunker to someplace else, or allow Blueblood's guards a chance to take out Luna (or at least try to, complicating her plans)
Also, you're assuming it would be easy to kill Blueblood even when you get to his bunker. He's quite accomplished in magic himself, and this is mentioned a few times in the story. I mean, he used to be the dean of Princess Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns, which is mentioned in Chapter 14: Constrictor (and I think in other places. It's pretty explicit in the prequel). In the prequel, he actually wields the element of magic in Twilight Sparkle's absence. I think it's a safe bet that he's no slouch when it comes to magic.
He's not Twilight or Luna level powerful, but he certainly knows more spells than Trixie or Pumpkin Cake, since he's in his 50's at this point in the story and has been using magic for many years. In a magic duel between him and the princesses, you might be surprised to see how well he could hold his own. He would likely ultimately lose, but he might be able to keep them at bay long enough for backup to arrive.
If the princesses went in horns blazing, it would give them away and allow him a chance to react and perhaps teleport away to a different location, put up a force field, or do some other magic trick that we haven't seen yet. That's why it's easier to just make his death look like natural causes (presumably by poisoning him) than by trying to engage him one on one in some final battle. If you kill him secretly (poison) or suddenly (a bomb), you remove his chance to resist. It's better to kill him quickly and suddenly.
Of course, I'm not saying that some epic magical duel involving Blueblood isn't in the cards. It very well could be.
Ha, the best chapter so far. Loved the James Bond references and the fact that this time, the super agent did NOT get away because the bad guy just assumed his clever death trap would work and leave the agent unguarded in true Dr. Evil style...
But what happened to Colgate?