Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part IV – Chapter VI – Railways and Curses

But Maxim's speech, in which he told some story of how he found himself in the role of an accountant from Manehattan, which reached its conclusion by revealing which university he would be attending (it was Cloudsdale), all came to a very abrupt finish.

Some thirty minutes had gone by since then. At this point ponies were trying to drag on the remnants of previous topics to the forefront; they were lounging around, letting their eyes wander, some having gone silent and asking each other frivolous questions. In short, everypony was becoming terribly bored.

"Why does Star Swirl the Bearded need to be common knowledge anyway?" asked Bronze. "Those lot who study him can reside in their ivory towers all they like, but keep me out of it."

"With magic comes real profit, real riches," said the councillor.

"And what could you tell us about riches?" put in Cold Leg.

"It's a simple rule: keep your friends rich and your enemies rich, and find out which is which."

"How long till dawn? Fatigue is starting to make its entrance!" grumbled Bronze.

"It's half past ten right now, so not for a while," said Cold Leg, looking at the clock.

"Who needs the dawn anyway?" somepony observed.

"It would help me to read! Hem! Can one drink to the sun's health, what do you think?" Pyre asked abruptly, addressing everypony without ceremony, as if he were in command, but he seemed not to notice it himself.

"Perhaps; only you should probably calm down, eh, Pyre?" said Airglow.

"You're always talking about sleep; you're my nanny, Airglow? I'll go to bed when the night sky is more beautiful. The sun isn't the only wellspring of life, is it? I'll wait for an Ursa Major among the stars. Have you ever heard of the Ursa Major?"

"I've heard Feelgreed thinks the 'Ursa Major' is a network of railways spread over Equestria," commented Bronze, snickering.

"No, excuse me, sir, that's not it, sir!" cried Feelgreed, jumping up and waving his arms, as if wishing to stop the general laughter that was beginning. "Excuse me, sir! With these ponies... all these ponies... in certain points, sir, it's like this..." And he rapped the table twice, which increased the laughter still more. He had had more to drink than anypony else, more than Bronze Pocket even, and he was reaching that stage of drunkenness which often spills into theatrics of the most unpredictable sort.

"Ah, there's no place for this boundless and highly candid contempt," said Spender Spent, pulling up a chair to sit down in.

"That's not it, sir! Half an hour ago, everypony, we made an agreement not to interrupt; not to laugh while somepony is talking; to allow them to speak freely, without prejudice. Right, Mr. Wingus?"

"Fair enough," replied Maxim, shrugging nonetheless.

"So then," said Pyre, who was seething, "it turns out, in your opinion, that in confusing a constellation, or worse, a rare animal from the Everfree Forest, with a railways system, means that the railways are cursed or something? Do they muddy the wellsprings of life?"

Pyre, despite his agitated mood, was, of course, joking with Feelgreed, egging him on, but soon he became excited himself.

"Not the railways, no, sir!" Feelgreed protested, beside himself and at the same time enjoying himself tremendously. "By themselves the railways don't muddy the wellsprings of life, but they are cursed as a whole, sir, all this mood of our last few centuries in the advancement of science and magic is maybe indeed cursed, sir."

"Certainly cursed or only maybe?" inquired Cold Leg, smiling sardonically. "The distinction is important."

"Cursed, cursed, certainly cursed!" Feelgreed confirmed with passion. "Have you ever heard of the Railway Beast? They tell it to the young ones for a little scare: it's a dark figure that curses railways, sir, it lurks about and takes you to its shadowy depths!"

"Don't rush, Feelgreed, wait till morning for that nonsense."

"But more candid in the evenings! More heartfelt and more candid, sir!" Feelgreed turned to Cold Leg heatedly. "More simple-hearted and more definite, and I expose myself to it. I challenge you ponies of science, industry, associations, salaries—how will you stop the Railway Beast from gobbling up the children?"

"What's all this talk of railways?" asked Soft Trace, frowning from a general lack of amusement on her part.

"Nothing, nothing, we're only getting curious," observed Maxim.

"My opinion," returned Feelgreed, "is that whoever isn't interested in such questions is a high society ruffian, sir!"

"At least it will lead to general solidarity and the balance of interests," observed the councillor.

"But that's not all, sir. With this opinion comes the law of the morality of ponykind. Without recognizing any moral foundations except the satisfaction of personal egoism and material necessity? Universal peace, universal happiness—it's necessary!"

"If you went from railways to that," interjected Cold Leg, "I'll say that the universal necessity to live, eat, and drink, and the scientific knowledge that that can never be satisfied, is a strong enough thought to serve as a 'wellspring of life' for future ages; and it's something that, I think, Princess Celestia has recognized a long time ago."

"But isn't self-preservation enough?" asked Maxim.

"A perfidious and derisive thought, a goading thought," Feelgreed eagerly picked up, "but a correct one! Because, worldly scoffer that you are, you don't know yourself to what degree your thought is profound and correct! Yes, sir. The law of self-destruction and the law of self-preservation are equally strong in us ponies. It is the lasting influence of the Mare in the Moon that rules over us. You laugh? You don't believe in the Mare in the Moon, Nightmare Moon?"

"So is Nightmare Moon the point, or...?"

"No, sir, the point is whether the 'wellsprings of life' have weakened with the increase—"

"Of railroads?" said Bright Glint, tapping her hooves together in anticipation of the direction the conversation had taken.

"Not of railways, my young and pretty one, but of that whole tendency, of which railways may serve as an image, so to speak, an artistic expression. They hurry and clang and speed, and this is for the progress of Princess Celestia, to serve us. It will deliver bread to us. But I, the vile Feelgreed, do not subscribe to the notion that carts will deliver us bread! For carts that deliver bread to all ponykind, without any moral foundations for their actions, may quite cold-bloodedly exclude a considerable part of ponykind from enjoying what they deliver, as has already happened..."

"So railway carts may cold-bloodedly exclude?" somepony picked up.

"As has already happened," Feelgreed repeated, not noticing the question. "We have had the shadow of Nightmare Moon, who gave unto us a brighter future indirectly, because to know the light you must know the darkness; to know pleasure you must know pain. Princess Celestia and her railways have been a friend of ponykind, yes? But a friend of ponykind with shaky moral foundations is a cannibal of ponykind, to say nothing of its vainglory; insult the vainglory of one of these numberless friends of ponykind, and fire will be brought to all of Equestria! But that's not the point!"

"So what is the point?" cried Maxim, this time in impatience. "Wait a minute, why am I even asking? This whole thing has become ridiculous."

"I'm tired," yawned Bright Glint.

"The point is," Feelgreed blurted out, feeling he had reached his final point, "is that without immortality, that is, without the immortality of the soul, there can be no true love and kindness. If we only live to satisfy our ego, in this world and not in some extension of it, then just like in the railways, we will destroy ourselves, sir! That is what the story books teach us, sir!"

But he did not—or could not—go on. Remedy, the eight-year-old colt, prodded his father's arm, saying, "Daddy, can we go now? I wanna go." He pointed to Penni who was by the kitchen entrance, holding her sleeping little brother in her embrace, yawning herself. Feelgreed's expression softened. He tapped his son's shoulder and carried him off to the kitchen.

"We'll go soon, Remedy," he rapped out.

"Hey dad, you look red in the face," commented his ten-year-old daughter. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, my children, it will all be okay!" he said in a tearful voice, bringing them all together. "If only your mother was here..."

"Is that pony qualified to be a parent?" Soft Trace asked to nopony in particular. But she got no answer.

Some more general and dull chatter resumed. Several of the ponies truly did want to leave now, but felt that this would clash with the common dictators of proper courtesy.

Around that time, Pyre, who towards the end of Feelgreed's dissertation had suddenly fallen asleep on the couch, now suddenly woke up, as if somepony had nudged him in the side, gave a start, sat up, looked around, and turned pale; he looked around even in a sort of fright; but horror showed in his face when he recalled and understood everything.

"What, they're going home? Is it over? Is it all over?" he cried in alarm, seizing Airglow's hoof. "What time is it? For pity's sake, what time! H-how long did I sleep for!" he added with a desperate look, as if he had slept through something on which his whole destiny depended.

"Dude, you slept for all of five minutes," replied Cold Leg.

Pyre looked at him greedily and pondered for a moment.

"Ah... that's all. So..."

And he drew his breath, as if throwing off an immense burden. He finally realized that nothing was "over," that it was not dawn yet, that the guests had gotten up from the table, and that the only thing that was over was Feelgreed's babble. He smiled, and a consumptive flush in the form of two bright spots played on his cheeks.

"So these ponies are still here," he picked up mockingly. "I saw something in a dream, I think it was your brother," he whispered to Airglow, frowning and looking at Bronze, who had gone to the table for a snack. "Ah, yes," he again skipped on suddenly, "where's the orator, Feelgreed? Hem! So he's finished? What was he talking about? Eh, forget it, it's an insult to me all the same."

"Which of my brothers did you see in your dream?" asked Airglow.

"The stupid one, Nova, who reminds me very much of your father. Tell me, do you think you have a kind heart? Are you the only good, honest pony in that damning mess you call a family?"

Airglow studied him attentively and did not answer.

"You don't give me an answer? Do you... do you think I like you, or something?" Pyre asked suddenly, as if breaking off.

"No, I don't think you like me. I'm sorry to say I don't think you like anypony at all."

"You're 'sorry' to say? Really? Well, forget about it. I was sincere with you yesterday, but... but why am I telling you that? I want more champagne; pour me some."

"You shouldn't drink more, Pyre, I won't let you..." And Airglow moved the glass away from him.

But Pyre did not react to this. Instead he took out his stack of papers for all to see, placing it on the small table in front of him. "I'll be reading my farewell," he announced in a loud but jagged voice.

This unexpectedness had an effect on the company, which was unprepared for. The councillor eyed him with curiosity; Bronze quickly moved closer to the couch; Maxim did the same, but with a sort of gruff vexation. Feelgreed, who happened to be near by, came closer with his curious little eyes and gazed at the papers, trying to guess what it was about.

"What have you got there?" asked Airglow uneasily.

"I'm going to lie down and read this for everypony in this room!" cried Pyre. "But... but... can you possibly think I'm not capable of reading this?" he added, passing his gaze over them all with a sort of defiance, and as if addressing them all indiscriminately. Airglow noticed that he was trembling all over.

"None of us thinks that," Airglow answered for everypony, "and what's going through your head right now? What're you going to read, Pyre?"

"What is it? Did something happen?" they asked all around. Several ponies came closer, some still eating.

"I wrote it myself yesterday, right after Airglow invited me to this party."

"Wouldn't it be better tomorrow?" Airglow interrupted timidly.

"Tomorrow 'there should be time no longer'!" he chuckled. "Don't you worry... I can read it through in an hour... or something like that..."

"What's this about reading?" asked Spender Spent.

"An article? For a magazine, or what?" inquired Soft Trace.

"It's gonna be boring," added Cold Leg.

"So... I shouldn't read it?" he whispered somewhat fearfully to Airglow, with a crooked smile, as if snatching at her with his former, almost aggressive expansiveness. "Are you... scared?"

"Of what?" asked Airglow, changing countenance more and more.

He was trembling with excitement, smoothing out the papers and clearing his throat. He had already decided.

"But what are you going to read?" Airglow muttered gloomily. Others kept silent.

Many ponies indeed expected something entertaining to happen, if only to quell the growing scene of boredom. But, I will say this right now, so as not to forget, that by the time Pyre had finished reading his little presentation, nopony other than Airglow was paying attention, because they had all lost interest not even halfway through.

"Everypony, you... you'll see what this is," Pyre added for some reason and suddenly began reading, "This is my 'Rebellion'! Epigraph: La Dernière Explication, which translates to 'The Final Explanation' in Prench. Could I have written something seriously with such a stupid epigraph? It's just some of my thoughts... something forbidden even... See, I was going to go with something a little more contemporary, maybe even in Old Ponish, which has been all the rage these days. I think that would denote a more vital and more essential... in a word... I mean—"

"Too much talk!" they shouted, growing irritated.

Again, in terrible haste, he seized the pages; his hooves were trembling; for a long time he could not settle down. The reading finally began. At first, for about five minutes, he was breathless and read disjointedly and unevenly; but then his voice grew firm and began to express fully the meaning of what he read. Only occasionally did a very strong cough interrupt him; by the midway point his voice became very hoarse. Here is the whole of his "rebellion"...

In the next chapter.