Food for thought
Officer Mom wasn't one to sit down and write letters, which she saw as paperwork. She was more of an in-your-face communicator, so the fact that she wrote a letter really was quite special. For a time, he held the letter in his dextrous primaries, and he tried to make sense of everything he felt right now. But it was what he didn't feel that worried him. While the grief was there, he wasn't floored by it, and when somepony lost a loved one, they were supposed to be overcome with grief.
Perhaps the full extent of it just hadn't hit him yet.
Maybe it needed time to sink in.
"Could you put this back into the envelope for me?" he asked as he waved the letter.
"Sure thing," Sumac replied. "I'll see that this gets packed up. Don't worry about it."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Sumac took the letter, pulled open the envelope, and slipped the folded sheet of paper inside. "There's a hearse, but you'll have to pull it. I'm so very sorry. My usual pilot is sick. I feel very bad—"
"Not to worry," Sundance said, smoothly cutting in. "I want to do this myself."
"I can't actually do it," Sumac said, somewhat embarrassed. "Bad eyesight. Cadance keeps trying to fix my eyes, but I keep messing them up. I'm not allowed to fly with a load."
"I can manage."
"When we get done, the hearse will have to be returned to Ponyville."
"Not a problem."
"That's a relief. I wasn't sure how this might go. Thought I might have to call in a few emergency favours." Face downcast, Sumac stared at the surface of his desk while his lips moved with words that failed to come.
"Really, I'm not upset about this. Nothing ever goes as planned."
"Thank you, Sundance. That is very kind of you to say." Then, after lifting his head, Sumac asked, "Shall we go and get supper? Are you hungry? I mean, I know what just happened, and there's a fifty-fifty chance that you're hungry. I know a place. It's quiet. My treat."
"I would love a bite to eat, actually." The more Sundance thought about it, the more ravenous he became. Sure, his grandmother had died, and while all of this was terrible, he'd had a long day. All this flying around left him hollowed out and he desperately wanted to fill the emptiness with food.
"Good… we'll just finish up here and then we'll go…"
A regal sunset blazed in the west, a long day laid to rest in fire. Sundance felt out of place in this city for a whole host of reasons. The streets were crowded and traffic was heavy, both on the sidewalks and in the streets. A surprising number of ponies were armed in the most fashionable manner imaginable. For a city under siege, nopony seemed terribly afraid. Attitudes were different, too. So completely different than the crowded streets of Baltimare.
"Up there," Sumac said to Sundance. "Bread Zeppelin. Yes, I know it sounds like a bakery, but they serve a little bit of everything. Mostly sandwiches and soups. It's moored right above Brewed Awakenings, a coffee shop that is favoured by the intelligentsia of Canterlot."
Upon hearing this, Sundance shuddered, though the reason why escaped him.
"They serve tea, too, if that's your thing. Me, I swing both ways. I'll take whatever action I can get. It is said that Ponyville has become a city of swingers because of Twilight. As for Canterlot, anything goes in Canterlot."
Again, Sundance shuddered, and was mightily uncomfortable.
"We'll fly up there," Sumac said to Sundance, who was now severely out of sorts. "I mean, we could stand in line for the lift, but why bother? I'm a regular, so we'll get seated right away. Let's go."
When Sumac spread his wings, Sundance did the same…
It was, as Sumac had promised, a quiet place. Which was odd, for a place so bustling and busy as this establishment was. Each of the booths had walls between them and everything was decorated with an aero-maritime theme that was subdued and somber. Pictures of famous Wonderbolts, ship captains, and pilots covered the walls. As for the booth itself, it was downright luxurious, even by Canterlot standards.
Somewhat distracted, but not overcome, Sundance picked up his menu.
There was a whole page dedicated to soups, stews, and chili. All of which could be served in a bowl, or a bread bowl. The next page was all about fondues of various types, which appeared to be some sort of gooey cheese. After some time spent with his brows furrowed from thought, Sundance had a sort of vague recollection of fondue, which was some kind of fancy food eaten by snobs, and he only knew of it because his mother had complained about it.
He saw all the usual things, like appetisers, but he didn't recognise most of them. Hors d'oeuvres? They clearly spelled 'horse' wrong, and Sundance was mildly offended to be referred to as a horse. He was a pony, not some half-evolved stone-age brute. It seemed the rich and well-to-do were into self-depreciation with their dining experiences. Or maybe this was all just some elaborate joke that he failed to understand.
"So, a restaurant in an airship," he said in an effort to spark up some conversation.
"Lots of ponies are doing it now," replied Sumac from behind his menu. "If business goes bad, just move to a new city. Some are calling it the future. I think it's a fad. We'll see."
Hearing Sumac say this caused Sundance to think of home, and of the brewery airship that had limped out to the barony. Yes, there was a certain sense to it, but keeping it airborne, keeping it shipshape seemed more expensive than maintaining a regular building. Or maybe it wasn't and he was totally wrong. He might soon find out though, because he had a notion to buy a used airship if he could figure out a way to scrounge up the needed coin.
"I've been meaning for us to talk," Sumac said as he peered over the top of his menu. "We share a border. Been wanting to talk about that for quite some time, and I've been so busy that I just haven't had a chance to even catch my breath. I thought about sending Silver Lining out your way in my stead, but some things really should be discussed by just the two of us."
"Like what?" asked Sundance, who was grateful to be distracted from thoughts about his grandmother.
The menu lowered itself just a bit more, revealing more of Sumac's bespectacled face. "Where do I begin? There's owlbears aplenty roaming the lowlands and running amok. We share an issue of bandits along the hinterlands of our border—"
"Bandits?" Incredulous, Sundance shook his head. "Bandits? Like in the movies? Real, actual, honest-to-Celestia bandits?"
"Yes"—there was a meaningful nod from Sumac—"dirty, smelly, horrible bandits. Nothing at all like what you might see in the movies."
"There are actual bandits roaming my lands?" In total disbelief, Sundance almost put his menu down.
"Not just bandits, but you have squatters, too. I've had my soldiers and hunters keeping an eye on them. They seem harmless enough, really. But they are in real danger from roaming monsters and bandits as well."
"Squatters?" This time, Sundance did put down his menu. "What am I supposed to do about all of this? I don't have soldiers. There's no… no… what do you call it, uh—"
"Garrison," Sumac offered as a suggestion.
"Yeah, I have no garrison. What do I do about this?"
Sumac's menu lowered just a bit more. "Well, I'm doing what I can, but I have my own lands to patrol. You… you, on the other hoof, you have one of the largest and most hostile stretches of unsettled wilderness within your borders. And all the animals are acting weird. There shouldn't be owlbears in the lowlands. Something is out of balance."
This gave Sundance pause as he thought about the spiders and the rabbits.
"Your borders cover most of the Foal Mountains," Sumac said. "Everything from the Everfree and the Rambling Rock Ridge northward is yours. You have claim to some of the Hollow Shades. You and I share a border that stretches for hundreds of miles. It will be a challenge to maintain security along such a stretch of undeveloped wilderness."
"How do I do this? I mean, how do I fix this?" asked Sundance.
"Right now, and for the immediate future, you can't," was Sumac's forthright response.
Defeated, Sundance slumped over the table, borne down by the sheer enormity of the situation. Head down, he looked down at his menu, and even in his current state of despair, he was hungry. His eyes read the words, but his brain failed to register them. Up to this point, he was so focused on the part of the barony that he knew, and everything else was neglected. Which was, perhaps, not his fault—there was only so much one pony could do—but he still felt responsible for these new woes.
"So bandits are actually real?" asked Sundance once more, still in disbelief. "I mean, it's hard to believe. Equestria is a modern country and everything is so—" Words failed him, and he had no idea how to finish his own sentence.
"Yes, and sometimes they rob the trains that run to the north of your lands." The menu covered Sumac's face once more, and so it was impossible to read his expression. "There's train robbers and stagecoach robbers and real honest-to-goodness bandits in your northern reaches."
"And the previous lord of the land did nothing about them."
The tip of Sumac's horn bobbed up and down as he nodded from behind his menu. "Correct."
Then, quite suddenly, Sundance had a thought, which made him say, "One of yours has come to live with me."
"Oh?"
"River Raider"—as Sundance said it, he saw Sumac peer over the top of his menu once more—"big scary night terror. Anti-social."
"I know of her, but I don't know her that well," Sumac replied. "How is she?"
"Almost died to a spider swarm. She has a nice room in a recently renovated cellar. I hope she's happy."
"We get giant voracious centipedes in Lulamoon Hollow. At least in the parts shrouded forever in shadow. They come up out of the Howling Abyss, which is a huge chasm located at the base of the Canterhorn. Some of these unpleasant fellows are two yards long."
Upon hearing the words 'two yards long', Sundance gulped.
"When the wind blows through the Howling Abyss, it makes a mournful sound. It's not really much of a howl. More of a moan or a groan. I feel foolish for changing the name to 'Howling Abyss', but what's done is done."
"You changed it? What was it called before?"
"Celestia's Split," Sumac deadpanned from behind his menu.
"Oh." Sundance cleared his throat once, felt that wasn't enough, and did so again. "Oh. Oh my. Well, it is probably for the best that you changed it. Celestia's Split, you say?"
"Yes"—the flat deadpan held no trace of emotion—"and Celestia's Split was infested with giant voracious centipedes. I suspect that Luna named this particular geological feature."
Sundance was amused for a brief moment, but when his thoughts turned to his grandmother, he chose to think about bandits instead. Yes, it was easier to be angry than sad—but his anger was a brief flash of heat that did not last. He pushed his mind to think about anything but his grandmother, anything at all, and while he could not work up a fury about the bandits on his lands, he was at least rather miffed about the whole thing.
It was a terrible thing, to want to rage, to fume, but feel almost nothing at all.
The sandwich (a slab of battered deep fried cheese) might have been one of the best things that Sundance had ever eaten, but he barely tasted it at all. His throat kept going tight, almost closing, and if this kept up, he might very well choke. None of the lettuce or the greens wanted to be chewed. All of his innards writhed against themselves, his back ached more than ever, and the turmoil in his mind threatened to spiral out of control.
Like flying into a storm, or slaloming the stacks, he had to hold himself together.
"A question for you, Sundance… if you don't mind."
Though he said nothing in return, he did look up from his food.
"Does the Crown owe you an existence?" asked Sumac. "Well, not just you. Everypony. Everyone. Every subject beneath the Crown. I brought up the question in the philosophical sense, hence the usage of 'you'. But it is the question of our era. Does the Crown owe you an existence?"
More than a little confused, Sundance licked his greasy lips and gave it a think.
"Care for a little thought exercise?" asked Sumac.
Uncertain of whatever might happen next, Sundance offered a reluctant nod.
"We live on a remarkable planet. A planet that forgives a multitude of sins. But what is important is, it is a planet we can exist upon. Though fragile and precarious, we manage to eke out our continued existence." Sumac paused in a manner that might have been melodramatic if it weren't so sincere. "If there was no Crown, we might continue to exist, whatever that existence might be."
Again, Sundance nodded, but he was baffled; this was way out of his league.
"So, imagine if we removed all of this. Imagine if you will, that we were spacefarers. A cold void, a vacuum with no air. No oxygen, no water, no food. Now we ask the same question: does the Crown owe you an existence? Does the Crown have an obligation to keep you alive? Should the Crown provide you with air, water, and food?"
For the second time, Sundance licked his lips, and all thoughts of his grandmother faded into the depths of his mind. His own perceptions shifted so rapidly that for a moment he wasn't sure if he was even himself—his mind felt strange and unknown. The doors of perception were now blown wide open, and he began to think of all sorts of things that he knew could not be unthunk once thunked.
"If the Crown didn't provide those things, those ponies would die," he managed to say through quivering, greasy lips that struggled to make words.
"Exactly," Sumac said in a remarkably soft voice of placid calm. "The only thing that allows the Crown to neglect so many is because the consequences for doing so are softened by what we have… a planet that supports our existence. The current system allows for failure. It allows us to cast aside so many and then offer moral platitudes about only helping those who help themselves. We live on a planet that forgives our callousness."
These words echoed in Sundance's ears, and wormed their way into his grey matter.
"What if those who ruled… us for example… you and I… we're part of the whole body that makes up the Crown… what if we made decisions, moral decisions, and we pretended as though we didn't have a planet that allowed for a multitude of sins? What if we embraced the consequences of our own actions? What if we acted as though the creatures we failed to help died because of our inaction?"
In between Sundance's ears, he could feel the physical sensation of something that gave way.
"We're on the verge of becoming a spacefaring civilisation," Sumac said to Sundance. "We Lulamoons have made significant advancements to rockets. Whatever comes next, it changes everything. When we were launching one of our atmospheric probe rockets, Princess Luna posed this question to me. I must say, it blew my mind. I was younger. Not yet the Lord of Lulamoon Hollow. I was a young adult, and like most young adults, I thought I had everything figured out. I was so smart and I was going to change the world. Nopony could tell me anything that I didn't already know. But then, Luna… she went and did what she did… and she cursed me. I haven't been the same since. Her questions… the questions I just asked you, they've haunted me."
Sundance immediately thought of everything that Twilight had asked him to do, and he could not help but wonder if Luna had somehow gotten under Twilight's skin as well. It seemed likely. His downcast gaze landed upon his sandwich, but failed to focus. There were squatters on his land; no doubt life in the city had failed them and they now tried to live off the land. What if there was no land? Everything that he'd believed in up to this point of his life was now no more than mental debris. He thought of his mother's harsh words about welfare cheats and leeches. The dregs of society. For a panicked moment, he thought of Hollyhock and her circumstances.
"We are the Crown, Sundance. You and I, and so many others. What do we owe our subjects?" The overhead lights reflected in Sumac's spectacles and made it impossible to see his eyes. "If I had my way, I'd have everypony—everyone—that works as we do dragged into a room full of Wardens and made to answer this question. We need to weed out our own. But… Princess Celestia tells me that would be tyranny… and she's no fan of tyranny."
"For whatever it's worth"—Sundance hardly recognised the sound of his own voice—"I agree with you. I mean, the last lord of the Sunfire Barony… he… he did unspeakable things. We… we the Crown, we can do unspeakable things. We should have the workings of our minds thoroughly investigated. I think all of us should be made to answer the space question. The power that we have, it's dangerous."
"Indeed it is," Sumac replied in a muted whisper. "I am glad… and more than a little relieved that we see things in a similar way, Sundance. Even if it amounts to what Princess Celestia calls tyranny." With a flare of glittering green magic, he lifted his glass. "To tyranny."
In astonished disbelief of his own actions, Sundance too, lifted his glass. "To tyranny."
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I would think it would go back to Canterlot or Lulamoon Hollow.
I'm sure Rarity played a part in that. Somehow.
Now I'm hungry. Not unlike how I feel after reading any of the books from the Redwall series.
Still, knowing there is an issue helps. The opportunity might come along to take care of it.
10065542
No, the hearse originated in Ponyville, and carried a body to Canterlot to be buried. So back to point of origin. I keep track of this stuff in the background. It's details that nobody ever knows, but makes the world feel real.
10065545
That makes sense. I didn't know where it originated so I thought he picked it up in Canterlot or Lulamoon Hollow. Thanks for the info. 👍
Uh, did you lose anyone recently? I’m sorry if it’s true, but you sound like you speak with experience.
10065561
Lost a lot of people.
10065564
Oh, I really am sorry.
Is it wrong that I don’t know how to apologise for bringing this up?
10065565
It's fine. It happens. Lost my mom back in... 15? 16? I think it was 15. These things, they happen.
Author's Note:
this is a huge understatement.
i cod read this chapter a thousand time and still find more to even try to understand.
i love a chapter like this.
How many chapters long will this story be?
10065609
Enough to reach the end.
10065615
Isn't that a repeat question from a bygone age...?
Centipedes? In Celestia's Split?!
Please tell me those are real restaurant names. They need to be real.
And then Officer Mom shows up.
Well, if the situation was different that'd be a silly event.
Also, you dropped a closing quotation marks there at the very end.
Yes... the Crown does owe it’s subjects an existence. That’s that side of the social contract: the Crown gets to rule; and the subjects get to live in a functioning society.
The other part of that side of the social contract is that the Crown cannot be allowed to become corrupt... so if those who would rule decide they don’t want to face the Wardens; then they can abdicate. Rule is a job, not an entitlement... so I’m afraid dear Celestia is wrong on this score.
10065788
So everybody should be made to think a certain way, with no differing of opinions? Or unpopular ideas?
Reminder: Sumac makes persuasion checks with loaded dice.
10065792
Sort of. That certain way of thinking is “I will always put my subjects before myself; and I will never abuse the power that I have been given.”
How, exactly, this is accomplished in any given situation may be subject to opinion and judgement calls; but one must start with a foundation of good faith, devoid of ill intent.
The other foundational axioms that are needed is that: 1) a Warden must always believe that they personally could be wrong about how best to go about the Crown’s obligations and business (and thus must at all times be cautious and humble in carrying out their duty); and it’s corollary, 2) opinions do vary.
Also, education in the general area of psychological and cognitive error (for example, things like the Dunning-Kruger effect, and the various modes of self-delusion) should be part of a Warden’s basic training.
10066182
I am playing Devil's Advocate of course, but what good is the choice to do good if good is the only choice you have?
10066186
The objective is not to choose to do good; the objective is to actually do the most good... and that means eliminating the possibility of evil whenever you can.
It’s not about fighting; it’s about winning. The fighting is just a means to an end. That evil does happen is evidence of the mechanical nature of the universe; not evidence that evil - or the possibility of evil - is somehow good or necessary.
Somewhat off-topic, but this was one of the differences evident between imperial Japan and the US during WW2 - the Japanese placed emphasis on ‘fighting spirit’, to the point that they would do things like suicidal ‘bonsai’ charges into machine gun fire or ‘kamikazi’ crash their planes into US ships killing the pilot in the process. Contrast this to the US approach, typified by - IIRC it was General Patton who said it, or something like it - “Men, you are not here to die for your country. You are here to make the other poor bastard die for his country.” (Yes, I’ve probably mangled the spelling and the quote, but you get the idea)
10066230
Being a Psych Grad Student there's a few important things to add in here:
#1 Stress IS good, provided that it's temporary. Provided that we get time to properly detox and recover. Without any stress, there comes problems
#2 Someone one create either a Rat or Mice Utopia. No problems. Only good. At first the rats were LOVING it! Everything was awesome. Yet within 3 to 4 generations these rats devolved into chaos, depression, and murder.
Furthermore, without the concept of "Bad" we cannot truly comprehend "Good". We can already see that those who live without serious/real struggles, are some of the most self-centered people at the very least.
#3 What would you even DO with the ones who do NOT answer as you want? What if they ARE bad? What then? Doubly so when there ARE more limited resources like qualified mental health staff, and jailers who will NOT abuse prisoners? Most ESPECIALLY in a world teetoring on Oblivion like in the Weedverse?
#4 What will you do for those who desire more Free Will? Who desire things like Secrets at the cost of safety? What if they rebell? Then what? Will you Imprison them for DARING to legit challenge your system? Will you imprison them if they try to counter your efforts? etc.
10066265
“Don’t get cocky, kid.” - Han Solo.
I think that it’s not stress per se, but challenges. Although it may seem that I’m splitting hairs; I think that the distinction is important to acknowledge.
By definition, it wasn’t utopia... at least, not for them. One or more fundamental needs was not being fulfilled... hence the failure. What actually does constitute a utopia may be a) unknown, and b) subject to opinion and judgement call.
Also; do be careful in trying to generalize from lab rats to people: lab rats have no insight into their behavior; but people can (not that they always do, though).
The concept is a requirement; but having the concept should not be confused for having the intent to do evil (banal or spectacular). The Wardens would be preventing those with malintent from being given power.
Well, first you don’t give them power. If possible you reform them - and just having a mirror held up to them may have a profound effect. If they cannot be reformed, they must be kept on a short leash (so to speak); or if their intentions are sufficiently evil (and not simply banally corrupt) and they cannot be contained, then they will have to be tried and executed. This last measure is a drastic one, and would only be taken in dire circumstances; after containment has been determined to not be an option.
Note that what I mean by ‘banally corrupt’ is like an official insisting on bribes to do his job; or abusing one’s position for personal gain, especially at the expense of others.
Positions of power over others are not an entitlement, they are a duty; and part of the cost is transparency. Those who would demand power without that transparency and accountability should be denied it. Privacy is for private persons, not public ones. If any person wishes to retain this privacy; then they should simply not insert themselves into positions of power over others.
Rebellion against what, exactly? The requirement that they not have evil intent? If so, then they are by definition forces of evil (and their challenge is thus not legitimate), and you strike them down as best you can.
Do not conflate overall intent with specific actions to reach that intent: everyone should be of good faith intent; but opinions will - and are expected to - vary as to how best to carry that out.
Good intentions may pave the road to hell, but the direct-teleportation route is fueled by evil intentions...
This is a very serious chapter. Loss. Bandits. Grief. Tyranny.
...
and Celestia's centipede-infested Split
I only know one author who could pull this off
10066265
Bad and good aren't fixed values, they're a variation on the current state. Something is good when it improves the current state. Something is bad when it worsens the current state. In fact you can see it in how the brain's reward system works: each repeated exposure to a positive stimulus in a certain amount of time will get you less and less pleasure.
10066555
Which is one of the reasons why you can only filter based on intent; and not on implementation. Opinions on how to get there do vary...
10066464
Like most things, this is a grey area. The head that bears the crown is also the one that ideally understands the cost of actions, and can see the path that must be tread in order to facilitate a stable society, let alone the ability to progress. This requires, at times, actions which the general public - being laypeople - will not understand as to their benefit, and will most likely involve the removal of the crown - or the head. For every action lauded by the layfolk, bright and positive in the open, there must be moves made in the shadows to support it.
No ruler's hands can be truly clean (this is part of the burden of leadership), and the only way to continue to do so is that the public not be made aware.
10065667
Brewed Awakenings is a small coffee chain here in the Pacific Northwest....
Ah, does anyone remember the Spartans? That noble group that fought for their freedom to continue keeping slaves? Heaven forbid tyranny inserted itself so they might no longer exercise tyranny against those below them.
What Celestia has is not an absence of tyranny, arbitrary and absolute power over others, but decentralized tyranny. She allows others to be unaccountable tyrants for fear that she herself would be a tyrant in taking their power over others for herself.
The crimes of the previous Baron were not unknown to the sisters. This should NOT have been allowed to go on. That it was is telling of the philosophy that allowed it. There are consequences for inaction. Ideals should be strived for, but not at the cost of the lives and welfare of others. Are they afraid if being tyrants or being called tyrants?
Sometimes the inaction is worse as the action. Watching makes you as guilty as the executionner. I don't mean the Royal Sisters as evil but don't acting when they were watching what the previous lord was doing was a big mistakes and it's probably for tis she was good with Paradox for what her mother have suffer because she did not act.