Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part I – Chapter II – A Friendly Debate

The whole scene, which had turned so ugly, was stopped when the maestro, Spender Spent, walked in.

"We are now in the intermission," said the announcer in a loud and clear voice.

At first Maxim was amazed, but he quickly shook it off and rose from his seat along with Cluster, as did most of the ponies present. A merry and agreeable atmosphere of chatter began at once, with at least half the audience making their way to the dining room.

Though all this could very well be understood, the irony was that most ponies present were there because they heard many others were invited, and so propriety dictated the rest.

Allow me the fleeting moment to comment on such an upcoming event as the Summer Sun Celebration. Already there were several anecdotes going around town about the way in which Cluster obtained his assignment as supervisor, which most confirmed was the product of an unfortunate argument he had with Princess Celestia. He spoke very familiarly with the Princess—to the point of insolence, some argued—and because of that, the higher-ups in Canterlot had a general distaste for him in spite of his natural talent. True, Cluster could be described as gloomy, sullen at heart; "pensive and aloof of mind," as Nova Steel characteristically described him. But Cluster was by no means ill-mannered to the extent that he hated everypony. Because if that was the case then what did Princess Celestia see in him?

His habit of planning every single day ahead of time and, in a word, possessing an almost cold understanding of everypony he knew, could easily be mistaken for arrogant and complacent bearings. But "complacency" is the last word I'd ever attach to Cluster. Helplessly defiant? Perhaps. Even these descriptions did not surprise Spender Spent, with whom Cluster had become acquainted in the past few weeks. Most ponies in the room knew who he was, but none of them had intended to approach him with any chatter.

With all that said...

Cluster appeared to be full of distinction and consciousness, knowing exactly where to go from there; he had this intent look in his eyes, like he were pondering something. He maneuvered through the room quickly, acknowledging several of the ponies he passed by with short nods.

"That's Monsieur Spent?" said Maxim from behind. "I've been practicing my Prench. Do you think I'll offend him?"

"Spent doesn't speak any Prench," said Cluster. "He just likes to be called 'Monsieur,' is all."

"Aha, there he is," exclaimed Spent, crossing the distance and extending his hoof. "Princess Celestia's charming pupil. How goes the upcoming Summer Sun Celebration?"

"Can't complain," said Cluster, shaking his hoof. "Right now you'll be hosting the dinner, so I believe now's the best time to catch up."

"No need to be so formal, my friend!" Spent laughed merrily.

Cluster arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't trying to... but anyway, let's go inside."

"Wait a minute, where is Bronze Pocket!"

"He bit the dust, that's what," said Maxim suddenly and curtly.

"He what?" Spender Spent instantly became confused.

"He was kicked out for misconduct," said Cluster. "But I know you're a stubborn fellow, you won't hear me out without him."

Spent scrunched his face and stared nose-down at Cluster, and a thoughtful hum left his lips. "No, no, that can't be right. The woodlot, remember?"

"The woodlot," Cluster reassured. "That's due for later. You're scheduled to help me create a final budget plan for the banners. I don't intend to do this last-minute."

"Oh, you misunderstand, I will not deviate from our schedule. Could one of you, in a word, go fetch him? I'll inform security to let him in. Don't you worry, there will be more than enough time to spare."

"Great." Cluster flashed a weak, halfhearted smile. "Maxim, you go."

"What? Why me?"

"Because if anypony here is duty-bound by the Princess herself, and those duties don't include looking around for some old stallion on the pretext of social misunderstandings, it's me. Meanwhile you don't even have to be here. Now go."

Maxim became flushed and could hardly contain himself. But suddenly, as if remembering something, he stopped.

"Well, fine," he said, smiling crookedly. "But if I don't find Bronze, don't blame me."

"Nopony will blame you for that," sighed Cluster.

"Hmm, sure thing," Maxim muttered in an undertone, striding towards the front door of Town Hall. "Would be excellent if he failed to come at all."

* * *

Cluster and the others were already entering the dining room when a sort of dainty process quickly transpired in Maxim Wingus: he felt genuinely ashamed for his anger. He felt within himself that, essentially, his contempt for the worthless Bronze Pocket should have been such as to have kept him from losing his composure. "Can the blame be placed squarely on Bronze's shoulders?" he asked himself. "And if there are decent ponies here as well (this Spender Spent fellow, and the others of gentry, too), then why not be nice, amiable, and courteous with them? I won't argue, I'll even agree with them on everything. I'll seduce the crowd with my amiability, and finally prove to them that Bronze and I are not cut from the same cloth."

The business concerning the woodlot was a controversial one. Where it all went on he himself did not know. Bronze's competitor—the shrewd and spiteful Bang Mang—resided in Canterlot, and for seemingly unknown reasons hated not only Bronze but all of his kids. Bronze was selling the woodlot to the best buyer, and Bang Mang, with the most deliberate intentions, interjected these potential transactions to engage in legal sparring, accusing Bronze of predatory pricing, which was illegal given market regulations.

I could write a whole book, even a lengthy one, detailing all the constituent elements pertaining to this dispute. Whether it really was predatory pricing, or price skimming, or bait-and-switching, it was clear that selling that woodlot would be no simple feat. But... alas, please excuse my inadequacy as a narrator, as I seem to be needlessly digressing.

Back to Maxim and his "amiability," as it were. All these good intentions were further strengthened when he returned to Town Hall twenty minutes later. The furnishings of the dining room were distinguished by a special comfort, of the kind only possible through privatization: cloth-covered mahogany, the floors were painted brightly and cleanly; there were many costly plants in the windows; but the main luxury was, naturally, the luxuriously laid table. Sparkling dishes, drinks and bread of all sorts, perfectly baked goods, while in the background new sets of glass cases were carried out to the main room.

Many ponies were in the room, including Fancy Pants, Rapière, but also one other pony he had never seen before: a middle-aged stallion in a linen suit, who happened to be a councillor, sat right across from Cluster and was staring somehow darkly, yet thoughtfully and professionally, at him.

"Apologies for the delay." Having snapped these words, Maxim bowed respectfully. It was obvious to most—and painfully so to Cluster—that Maxim had considered this bow beforehand and conceived it sincerely, believing it was his sworn duty to express his goodwill.

Spender Spent, though taken unawares, found within himself to reply properly: he inquired about Bronze, to which Maxim said that "he was unable to be found, though perhaps that's only temporary," and, moreover, "maybe he'll come sooner rather than later." Hopefully not, thought Maxim at the same time.

His face suddenly became solemn and imposing, which gave him a decidedly grave look. Then, with his resolute strides, he went over near a window and sat down on the closest chair to him, and leaning forward with his whole body, he prepared to listen at once to the continuation of the conversation he had interrupted.

Indeed, at the moment Cluster was engaged in a debate with this councillor.

"I fully intend to speak with Bronze Pocket," said Spent, "but for the time being let me dismiss that brazen fellow. Cluster Tale here is grinning at us: he saved a very curious article for this occasion, which he wrote himself. Go on, my friend, ask him."

"Nothing special," said Cluster with a certain worldly nonchalance, "but not a joke, either. The prosperity of this country, along with our Equestrian intelligentsia and the much admired harmony which has allowed ponies from all walks of life to coexist peacefully for so many years, has long and frequently confused these results with the rule of Princess Celestia. This confusion, while amusing, is very typical. We could do away with alicorns overall and not only not lose our harmony but even improve it. That is where the confusion lies. Your anecdote, Liquor Alexander," he addressed the middle-aged councillor, "is very typical."

"I ask your permission to drop the subject altogether," said the councillor, "and instead allow me to relay another anecdote about Cluster, a most 'typical' and interesting one. Just last week, at a local gathering, he solemnly announced that there is nothing in this world that could make ponies love Princess Celestia as they seem to do now. And if there is any love and admiration for Princess Celestia, from her subjects, up until now, it has come only from the rational dependence on the sun. And the Princess, being the monarch, obviously has much more control than just raising the sun: she has the final say in foreign policy, market regulations, government investments, and so on and so forth. Cluster added in parentheses, that that is what all our laws of nature consist of. If we were to do away with Princess Celestia and appoint, say, one hundred of the most powerful unicorns to control the sun and moon, while handing over control of the government to the common pony, then not only would nopony miss the Princess, we would actually celebrate her absence. From this paradox, gentlecolts, you may deduce what else our dear eccentric and paradoxical Cluster may be pleased to proclaim, and perhaps still intends to proclaim. Did I get all that right?"

"The gist of it, to be sure," replied Cluster, not without a hint of irony in his smirk.

"Wait, wait," interrupted Maxim, "let me get this straight: you, Cluster, made the argument that Equestria would be better off without Princess Celestia? So you're anti-Celestia? Is that it?"

"It looks that way," said Spender Spent.

Maxim was dumbfounded.

"My contention only," put in Cluster.

"But that's... palpably absurd," said Maxim, feeling his throat tighten. He was making a conscious effort to maintain the genial and good-natured air he had intended to put out. He fixed Cluster with an extraordinarily baffled gaze. "Aren't you Princess Celestia's pupil, Cluster? Why are you bad-mouthing her?"

Cluster answered, not with polite condescension, as Maxim expected, but with modesty and reserve, and, evidently, without the least ulterior motive.

"I start from a specific proposition," he said. "This mixing of elements, of Equestria's wellbeing and Celestia's rule, will, of course, go on forever. But the truth is, there's no real compromise to be had, only an illusion. Most ponies would agree that her rule is absolutely just, and nothing can replace her. So, speaking objectively, she's the best we have, and ever will have. But, assume that a completely free market possesses the necessary self-correcting mechanisms to fix any and all problems in a matter of days, while with Celestia's bureaucracy it would take much longer, and to poorer results. I'm not saying that a completely free market is right, but just assume: if one could prove its superiority, then Celestia's rule is no longer objectively good. And because of that, removing her would not only better the country, but our control of the sun and moon could be democratically scheduled to results no single pony could conceive of on their own."

"That doesn't answer my question," reproached Maxim. "You're her pupil. Why say such things? Do you want to hear a counter-argument?" And saying this, he too could not conceal a smirk.

"Unfortunately I have not read a speck of your article, my friend," remarked Spent, "but I have heard such a curious point. Isn't this heresy?"

"And what would Princess Celestia think if she heard you rejecting her rule as you are now?" asked the councillor.

"She already knows," said Cluster.

Seeing that his last comment was not acknowledged, Maxim responded with great indignation, "And what would Princess Celestia say to you, Cluster? This 'mixing of elements,' as you stated, is nothing short of a red herring. Charming little ramblings, really. I've never seen nor heard a pony attribute our country's well-being solely to the Princess. What say you to that? Besides, I have something else to say."

"It's a hypothetical," said Cluster dismally. "To address your criticism, Spender Spent, you really have to understand that words and actions aren't the same thing. For all intents and purposes I could be arguing from a devil's advocate position, nothing more."

Maxim, try as he might to eagerly get into the conversation, could not find any luck. The thing was that he had engaged in some intellectual fencing with Cluster before, and could not calmly endure this seeming negligence from him. He imagined if Bronze were present, he would sit watching Maxim quietly and mockingly, taking pleasure in his irritation.

"And inform us: what happened to be Princess Celestia's say in all this?" asked the councillor.

"Nothing eventful, if that's what you want to hear," replied Cluster all too readily. "But I object that, should society seek heightened development, it'd be in our rational interest to overthrow Celestia and establish—well, decide among yourselves."

"Sheer contrarianism!" exclaimed Maxim, fidgeting in his seat in impatience.

"Clever, ve-ry clever!" Spender Spent, unable to restrain himself, interrupted. "Thinking it over, my friend, I can come to understand your objection. I should go even further and agree on one particular assertion: that free markets are the most efficient way to progress this great country. But to play with such words, especially in light of Princess Celestia herself, is practically impossible, my clever friend. The Princess came here, in a certain period of darkness, and brought prosperity to all races: earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns. She brought us along through the thick and thin into a modern and progressive time! She lifted the burden of controlling the sun and moon from our shoulders, which, before her, was so onerous as to slow everything else down. Without Princess Celestia we would be at least five hundred years in the past. Besides, you seek democracy, and yet the Princess was given her role by the ponies themselves."

He suddenly fell silent, as if checking himself. Cluster, having listened to him respectively and attentively, went on with great composure, but, as before, open-heartedly addressing them.

"First of all, I'd like to catch you on something that you said: my assertion of the superiority of free markets. I neither confirmed nor denied that sentiment. Secondly, the whole point of my argument is to shine a light on how things can change through time, and how we mustn't remain static. In that sense you involuntarily supported my position. Celestia was certainly appointed to reign by the common pony, but in the end we have something they lacked: hindsight. Celestia helped this country in the past, but now we have made much progress in the realm of science. There's even talk that someday, a unicorn will be capable of pulling off alicorn magic. In modern times our resumed control of the sun and moon would have no effect on the manner in which society forwards itself, because once firmly established we would indisputably do a better job than last time. Ponies chose Celestia to rule over them in the past, but what option did they have? All evidence points to the benefits of replacing Celestia with us ponies. That's the whole point of my article."

"In that case," said the councillor, stressing each word, "you support an eradication of Equestria's government? Or, if not that, you at least support the idea of Princess Celestia stepping down?"

"No, I don't support it."

"No? Then why not?"

"As I said, I could be playing devil's advocate. And why not? Because it's not useful."

"Well, well, I confess that you've reassured me somewhat," said Maxim, grinning. "As far as I understand it, you hold up a utopian ideal, but you recognize that it's an infinitely remote one. Ha, ha! And here I was thinking you were serious about everything you just argued against."

"Even if I'm wrong, that only disproves my specific, biased articulation, and not the whole of the argument itself; and even if the whole thing is false, that doesn't mean it can't be rediscovered some time in the future," said Cluster calmly, without batting an eye.

"Are you serious?" Maxim looked at him intently.

"Given the presupposition that Celestia is the first successful benevolent monarch in our history, and that every monarch eventually gives way to corruption, then Celestia, being immortal, will eventually become corrupt. That's a simple law of nature."

"But you... I... okay, I get it." A halfhearted grin slowly spread on Maxim's face. "I suspect you're simply amusing yourself."

"Is it really true that you hold this conviction of your own teacher?" asked the councillor with the liveliest curiosity.

"And, again, what did Princess Celestia say to you?" put in Spender Spent.

"Yes, I do hold this conviction. Celestia and I shared a conversation, but nothing bad. She wasn't angry with me. Eventually we put it off and I continued with my studies under her wing."

"Do you have any particular dislike for our Princess?" asked the councillor.

"No. I like her."

"And still you believe that she, if not today then sooner or later, will have to be overthrown?"

"Most likely."

"Either you're wise beyond your years, young Cluster, or you're extremely unhappy."

"Why unhappy?" Cluster smiled.

"Because it's likely that you can't reconcile these feelings you have in your heart. You strike me as the type of pony who likes to toy with his own despair."

"Maybe you're right! But, listen," he suddenly and strangely raised his voice, like he were confessing something, "I wasn't entirely joking either."

"Can it be resolved? Resolved in a positive way?"

"I have no idea," Cluster admitted, and at least he began digging into his food, which was only slightly warm by now. "Mm. But look, we can talk about this some other time. Right now, Spent, about the—"

"Ah, yes, yes, right to it!"

The topic was changed altogether, from the moral ambiguity of Celestia's status to budget planning and contracts. But halfway through the conversation, Maxim, feeling in himself a sort of boundless and inescapable resolution, cut in to speak out loud.

"I really have to beg your forgiveness, Mr. Spent," said Maxim in a solemn and respectful tone; his face even blushed. "We arrived by ourselves, and Bronze, to whom you sent an invitation, didn't come. Back in the auction room, being carried away by his unfortunate ramblings, I spoke inappropriately. I mean, sure, that happens"— he glanced at Cluster —"but being aware of that, know that Bronze knows his faults and that he repents, he feels ashamed, and, unable to come to the dinner, asked me to tell you this. Okay, so I lied about not having found him; I did. So, well, that's the truth. To sum it all up, he hopes and wishes to make up for it all later, and now he hopes to forget what happened today."

Maxim fell silent. Having spoken these final words, he felt thoroughly pleased with himself, so much so that not even a trace of his former irritation remained in him.

Having listened to this with a solemn air, Spender Spent inclined his head forward and spoke in reply, "Well, my friend, what happened is what happened. My grandmother told me that. Fine, fine. If he can't make it today, then we'll just have to reschedule. Right, Cluster?"

"Sure."

The weight was lifted from Maxim's chest. Looking up in relief, he once again loved all of ponykind.

And then the door swung open, and there was Bronze Pocket. He stopped on the threshold, looking around at the gathering, and laughed his long, insolent, wicked little laugh, staring them all valiantly in the face.

"They thought I was gone, but here I am!" he bellowed for all to hear.

Comments

[F1utt3rShI]

Bronze has some Incredible timing. I wonder if we was listening in somehow.