BPT: A Friendship Built to Last

by Wolven5

Chapter 6. Steps Forward, Steps Back

“And... done!”

Techorse stepped back as his Battle Saddle's mechanical arms set his tools aside while he and Midnight looked at their prototype.

"Hmm, cumbersome, the design's gonna have to be improved before the deadline," Techorse mused before smirking, "But all things considered, we managed to put together something great rather quickly."

"Now, of course, is to test it," Midnight suggested but rubbed his chin, "but how?"

*Knock-knock-knock*

Both stallions looked towards Techorse's front door, the inventor pony going to answer it. He brightened up to see it was Stencil, and he welcomed her, "Stencil, glad to see you back."

"I'm sorry for running late," Stencil apologized as Techorse let her in, "I had an... errand to take care of that ran later than I expected."

"No worries, Midnight and I just put the prototype together," Techorse led her over to the worktable, pointing to the device, "With this, Fillydelphia's water problem will be taken care of, and everypony will get the water they need in spite of this drought. We were just talking about testing it when you arrived."

"You said this is supposed to be a pumping system for water, yes?" Stencil eyed the device, not quite understanding the design but for some reason something about it looked... off.

"It is, and those nearby lakes are just sitting there, waiting to be used in this alleged time of drought," Midnight brought up.

"Except some of those lakes are polluted," Stencil pointed out with concern, "The citizens can't rely on contaminated water!"

"Hold on, polluted?!" Midnight was vexed, "How'd that happen?!"

"I don't know," Stencil replied, "I've wondered about the problem for a while now. A remember a year ago the lakes weren't even really that full, but once they filled up with rainwater, ponies started reporting trash being thrown into or around the water. I don't think a formal investigation was ever conducted, because the pollution seemed to get worse, even birds and critters avoid the lakes now."

Midnight and Techorse shared a troubled look, and then Techorse said, "Well... That won't be a problem. This pumping system is, or at least it will be, a decent blend of science and sorcery, and we've taken into account the possibility of pumping contaminated water. Thanks to a filtering system enhanced with specialized energems, any water that the pump sucks into it will be cleansed and purified before the pump deposits it out the other end."

"But can it really pump water from the lakes all the way to here?" Stencil asked.

"It should, with the cohesive force manipulation energems I've set into its hose," Midnight answered, "but like I said, we still need to test it."

The three hmmm'd on it for a few moments before Stencil thought aloud, "Well, maybe one of your neighbors wouldn't mind giving it a try."

"It probably doesn't hurt to ask," Techorse shrugged, "just as long as they don't think I'm going to muck up their yard with polluted water."

“At this point Tech, the lawns around here couldn't get any more dead,” the mare frowned, “everything's as brown as the lake water.”

He nodded in response at the point, “We'll give it a try.”

They carefully brought the arcane pumping system outside, with Stencil looking around to see if she could find a willing 'victim' for the initial test. There was always the chance that the machine would work so well as to guarantee that Redtape would surrender and give Techorse a grant, and her a well-deserved break. But first the equipment would need to be proven in some trials before it could be finalized for the showdown later in the week. Stencil's attention to detail helped her to spot a suitable customer, an elderly unicorn mare standing in her front lawn with a defeated blank stare at the dead grass in front of her.

“Hey,” Stencil noted, pointing with her hoof, “Techorse, who's that across the street?”

He placed the machine down gently, nearly making Midnight lose his grip, “Oh, her? That's Mrs. Letterword. She used to run the post office alongside her husband, but they're both retired now.”

“She looks really sad,” continued the secretary, feeling pity for the old mare.

“They used to have this really great garden full of roses, irises, you name it,” Techorse explained, frowning, “then the water supply dried up, and anything they were unable to sell to ponies outside the city died.”

“I'm going to go ask if she'll let us test the pump,” Stencil continued, “this is a great way to start building up a case for you staying in town!”

Techorse tried to explain why that might not be a good idea, but his new assistant was already trotting her merry way across the road to talk to his depressed neighbor. Midnight shook his head and helped him pick up the unwieldy machinery again so that they could start moving it across the street. Despite being small and rather portable, it was rather awkward to pick up without tripping over the hose, a design flaw that would have to be corrected later.

Stencil got Mrs. Letterword's attention with a gentle approach from the street, getting a better look at the aging unicorn, who's gray mane clashed with her bright blue eyes that still sparkled with some kind of youthful energy.

“Hello!” she said to her, “how are you today, ma'am!”

“Oh, I'm.. I'm just fine!” she lied in response, trying to react appropriately the kindness, “I like to get out of the house, you know. Keeps the joints fresh!“

Stencil entered the dead lawn on hoof after carefully fixing her hair bun's pin to avoid it coming loose in the dirt, “It sure does! Don't mind me or my silly hair, just came over to ask a few questions if you don't mind.”

“You have a very beautiful mane, young mare,” flattered the shaky unicorn, “and such a stylish do, too! Now knock off this silliness and ask away!”

“Well, you see, I'm Stencil Guide... I'm working for Mr. Techorse from across the street,” she asked with a positive tone, “do you know much about him?”

Despite the inventor's supposed bad reputation, Letterword gave a wrinkled smile, “Ohhh, young Techorse! What a smart stallion he is, don't you think? And so nice too... why, when my garden was alive and well, I'd give him a rose from it each and every day for him to snack on. Wouldn't you know, he doesn't like eating flowers, so he would give it to somepony else who would have missed breakfast that day!”

Stencil wasn't used to that kind of behavior coming from stallions, “Oh... I... um, I guess that is really nice. Well, Techorse would like to help you today if possible!”

“Aw now, I don't need any favors sweetie.”

“But he has a machine that could help bring your garden back to life!” protested the younger mare, looking around at all the dead flowerpots and lawn space, “It's a pumping machine that can purify the lake water and provide life-sustaining hydration. Don't you want him to try?”

Mrs. Letterword obviously had first-hoof experience of Techorse's machines exploding in his face, “I'm not sure about that, miss Stencil...”

“Why not? You seem to like him,” she argued softly.

“Well,” defended her elder without trying to be too blunt, “he is nice, but his machines, well... they don't always...”

“Honey...”

The old mare turned her head back, having been called by her husband from the doorway. He was a tall, lanky earth pony with clear signs of wear and tear on his limbs from years of carrying heavy mail bags. But there was still an element of joy in his soft words and the way he carried himself.

As his wife, she felt obligated to tell him what was going on, “I was talking with this nice young mare about Mr. Techorse. She says he's cooked up some contraption that could bring back the garden, and we both know that young one's nice but, well... he's not always successful.”

“I know honey,” he continued in a quiet whisper, “I've been listening in. Mr. Techorse may not always be right about things, but... could the lawn really get any worse?”

She looked around at the dismal and gloomy yard, a dead rose bush here, a patch of tulip bulbs that would never sprout again there... pure misery. Granted none of her neighbors had fared any better, but they hadn't grown nearly the variety with the same passion and love she had.

“Oh... all right,” she answered, “I can see him coming this way with his gizmo anyways. Might as well give the child a chance at this...”

Techorse had the pumping machine set up rather quickly, placing the trapezoidal amalgamation of brass and steel parts in the center of the Letterwords' lawn to maximize coverage. The hose attached to the back of the machine was dragged out to the lake behind the elderly couple's residence by Midnight, who had regained his disguise on request of Techorse to avoid spooking his neighbors. When the alicorn got to the body of water to toss in the intake end of the tubing, he wrinkled his nose in disgust of the sickly looking water which reminded him of a school locker room, both by color and smell.

“Ugh, I hope that filter works,” he groaned as his magic dropped the hose into the bubbling cesspool, “how could Fillydelphia let the water table get this polluted, anyways?

Between Stencil's comment that there had been suspicious characters caught throwing trash in the water reservoirs around the city, and the fact that the pegasus weather management team should have noticed the city's water crisis ages ago, the young prince was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Something was very wrong about a drought and polluted natural water in the middle of a state that valued its resources as much as Equestria.

Dropping his thoughts on the topic, he trotted back to Techorse, who was working with the buttons on the front of the sprinkler using the robotic arms mounted inside his saddle. Midnight remembered his friend telling him before he left for bed last evening that he had to work closely with foreigners outside of Equestria to perfect the form and function of the metallic hands, which seemed unusual for a presumed recluse.

“All right Tech, we're ready,” Midnight announced, “but I have to say, that water is absolutely filthy. I'm not even sure the disinfectant energems can process all that sludge.”

“There's only one way to find out,” he answered, having pushed the last button necessary to start the mechanism, “we test it!”

Midnight understood the risks, “Tech, you'd better come with us after you set it to go off. It could be dangerous.”

“We ran a dry test on some tap water, remember? The worst that happens is the safety engages and it sparks out,” Techorse assured him, “plus, I've gotten away from worse, you know!”

The prince rolled his eyes and walked over to the Lettewords and Stencil, corralling them to the side of the lawn a good twelve feet away. Conduits on the top of the trapezoidal pump glowed with purple energy as the top of the machine opened up like a music box, flaps opening and moving back to reveal a large nozzle mounted to a turret assembly. The machine's programming aimed the tube away from the ponies present, towards a patch of dead lawn ready to receive water. Techorse stood directly behind the pump, watching over the diagnostic lights and dials to make sure things were functioning as intended.

“All right, the pump should engage any second now!” he said to the others, not having to talk over the relatively quiet device.

A rumbling noise came from within the contraption, and Stencil watched as the hose vibrated with suction force, drawing gunky water from the lake. It was so polluted that she could see a line where the fluid was rushing rapidly towards the pump.

“So far, so good!” Midnight smiled, watching from a safe distance with the others, “We're about to have the water hit the processing chamber, so get ready!”

Techorse saw the liquid enter the pump, followed by a gross sucking noise as the motor and energem chamber took on the disgusting slurry. He knew something was wrong right away when his invention's nozzle started to look around in random directions, often at his friends who ducked and covered.

He reached for the off switch a little too slowly, “Wait... there's something up with the...”

*BOOOOM*

A loud, sharp report centered on Techorse's location sounded from the pump's innards destroying themselves violently, kocking the green earth pony away in a concussive blast that sent a plume of filthy water and machine parts sky high. Stencil screamed, covering her eyes with he hoof, and Midnight quickly put up a cyan bubble of shield energy, knocking away most of the goo and flung mechanical bits.

“Oh, Mr. Techorse,” Mrs. Letterword cried out, “are you okay?!”

Techorse sat up from having been knocked prone, and took a look at the pump's condition. For the violence of the explosion from the malfunction, it was actually in fairly good shape, having lost only the nozzle, the flaps that kept it inside the machine, and the first pumping chamber that handled sterilization.

“I... I don't know what happened,” he sighed, taking off his welding goggles and throwing them into the dirt out of frustration, “the pumping chamber just built up a ton of pressure before the safety could engage.”

“Forgot the machine, Techorse, that blast could have liquefied your insides!” shouted Midnight angrily, “You should have stood with us like I told you too!”

Techorse loosened his posture as he stared at Midnight. Then he scooped up the machine, carrying it in his saddle's arms, and said nothing else to his friends as he walked back to his lab.

“Poor Techorse,” Stencil sighed, ears falling back, “did you have to yell at him like that, Midnight? He's already in enough trouble as it is with Redtape trying to kick him out of town.”

“He'll get over it,” answered the stallion, “I was just... worried he was going to get hurt. I've... lost a few friends over the years, you know...”

Stencil agreed and then addressed the older ponies, “I'm so sorry, we'll have to find another way to test the machine again later.”

To her horror, Mr. Letterword's kind and soft demeanor turned into a very aggressive one, “Hold on there, missy, did you say that snake Redtape was trying to kick Mr. Techorse out of town? What does that waste of taxpayer bits got against him, huh?”

“Dear, please,” begged his wife.

“Ha! I take it you don't like him much, either?” Midnight chuckled, rubbing a tiny splotch of pond scum that had gotten past his shield off his mane, “Something personal?”

“Oh you bet your flank it's something personal, son,” Letterword nodded, “my wife and I had planned on working on that post office for another five years to earn ourselves a large pension promised to us by Equestria. When you get to our age, your job becomes training youngsters to learn how to do the mail deliveries right, and we loved that job, were really good at it too! Well, guess how we were 'thanked' for our hard work?”

Stencil felt her heart sink, “My gosh... he fired you a day before you were going to earn that additional retirement money.”

“Exactly,” answered the old stallion, his wrinkled body tense like he was young and strong again, “and we went to the mayor himself to complain, only to find that Redtape likes to kiss up to her just so he can get away with cheating old ponies like us! So... if this whole thing Techorse is doing is meant to smash that stallion right where it'll geld 'em... he can test it on our lawn anytime. I don't care if it blows up a hundred darn times!”

The anger coming off the old man radiated from him, but slowly died off as his wife gave him a hug, “We've made do, dear. The other postmares still help us out.“

“We'll get you that pension,” Midnight said, thinking of a way he could influence the situation, “once we beat Redtape, I'll have him sign the paperwork. It wasn't part of the deal, but... somehow I think he'll have to agree to it.”

“I'll be thankful for anything, kiddos,” Letterword answered loudly, “now get back in that garage and help Mr. Techorse. I wanna see that Redtape squirm like the earthworm he is.”

Unbeknownst to the retreating ponies, watching from behind the Letterwords' next door neighbor's house, Jester sneered snidely at the sight of Techorse leaving despondent from his apparent failure. The sleazy dragon had been nearby when he'd seen the explosion and carefully sneaked over to see what was going on. Smiling with satisfaction and schadenfreude, he slunk away to inform his boss of the good news.

"Hmm, yeah, put that over there," Redtape instructed the movers as they brought in the new furniture for Stencil's workspace, "and the oak wood desk can go right there!"

He'd spared no expense in his "gifts" for his adorable little assistant, and if all went well, she would become his adorable little wife and the mother of his foals. If not? Well, that's why he had the papers in his suit pocket, which he carefully stuffed into the drawer of the new desk so she would be kind enough to take the fall for him if push came to shove. As much as he hoped for her to say yes to his proposal, this step was absolutely necessary to twist her leg into matrimony should she fail to accept his 'generous offer'.

He looked on in satisfaction at the workspace he'd set up for his victim. The desk alone had cost a foreleg and a hind leg, not to mention the big comfy office chair behind it, the various office supplies and utensils, the comfortable waiting chairs, the lovely house plants, the knickknacks - All of that.... plus the papers he'd stashed into the desk that would definitely raise some red flags if she continued to be stupid enough to say 'no'.

Returning to his office, he quickly noticed Jester outside his window and hurried over to let him in, hissing, "How long have you been out there?! Did anyone see you!?"

"Relax, boss," Jester waved off the concern as he made himself comfortable in the chair before Redtape's desk, "your old friend Jester would never forget to use discretion. It's just I thought I'd drop by and tell you some very good news!"

"Oh?" Redtape raised a brow as he sat at his desk, leaned forward and held his hooves together, "Do tell."

"Techorse, whatever cockamamie contraption he was working on?" Jester snickered in a smarmy tone, "It blew up on its first trial!"

"Heh-heh-heh, why am I not surprised?" Redtape leaned back in his chair before reaching to his desk drawer to pull out his pack of cigars, "Tell me more."

"Well, out of boredom today I'd thought I'd just sneak over, spy on them, you know... make sure your secretary turned spy mare was doing her job," Jester explained as he accepted a cigar from his boss, "but before I get there, boom," he illustrated, spreading his scaly hands, "Felt the explosion from my hiding place. When the smoke cleared and all was said and done, there was a big fat crushing look of failure on that loser's face as he takes what's left of his broken toy back to his workshop, a dismal cloud of despair following him."

"And to think I was... concerned," Redtape snorted before he held a cigar and asked, "Gimme a light, huh?"

"Oh sure, pal," Jester leaned over and very carefully blew a small fire to light up Redtape's cigar, lighting his own after to take a taste of the leaf.

"By the end of the week, Techorse will be packing his saddlebags, and I'll have gained a wife," Redtape chuckled again, leaning back into his chair, holding his cigar, "and the Lord of Lords will make me Lord of all crime in Fillydelphia with our biggest money-maker yet!"

Let's not forget about Prince Midnight before we celebrate," Jester brought up, "I didn't see him, but he could still be helping that grease monkey."

"Let me worry about that pretentious poser of a prince," Redtape waved off the concern, "despite his archaic and undeserved authority, he is still bound to the laws of this nation. He interferes and I'll bury him in so much legalese he'll see siding with that waste of fur is more trouble than he's worth."

Then Redtape put the cigar to his lips, and after a brief inhale HACKED and coughed and spat and gasped for breath, Jester facepalming as he said, "Red, you're not supposed to inhale a cigar, you just taste it!"