Maelstrom

by QQwrites

Twelve

Roller called out for his muscle who quickly filed into the room. There were more than I remembered—five total and they looked none too happy with the situation. Another tremor rippled through the building, sending most of us to the ground.

Maelstrom remained planted on her hooves, using her wings to keep stable as the building lurched. If she had noticed the guards crash into the room, she didn’t care. She was putting the pressure on High Roller, who wasn’t ready to give in quite yet.

“What is this? What did you do?!” he cried in terror. His boys were getting back on their hooves. I put myself between Maelstrom and the mob, uncertain how I was going to keep them back.

“GIVE US THE WATER,” said an angry voice. I didn’t have to look to know it was Mal. The building shook again and two of the muscle scampered—that made it one against three.

I was about to start the fray when two things happened at the same time: High Roller screamed and the office window smashed open. I turned in time to see a green blur whip up enough wind to knock everypony down again.

When I looked up, Maelstrom and High Roller were gone and the muscle were high tailing it out the way they came. They were there to look tough, but intimidation isn’t strength. They clamored over one another as they squeezed through the door.

With nothing else to do, I jumped out the window.

It was loud like a hangover and cold like an ice box. I was plummeting at some scientific constant which would be empirical, but not overly comforting at the moment. As I fell, I was suddenly struck with the realization that this could be the wrong move.

How could it be right?

Because I was trusting that Maelstrom wasn’t actually insane. I remembered the letters she sent out before coming to High Roller’s office; the envelope she gave me. The timing of the cloud-quake was too convenient to be coincidence. Maybe the city was falling apart, but my guess was the DRP had something to do with it.

I passed the cloud layer and saw the ground racing towards me. The brown, craggy rocks were dotted prominently with sharp looking spires and bone breaking slabs. Oh, Celestia let me be right.

Down down down I fell, resting my hopes on what Maelstrom called a perspicacious interpretation of her. I was doing the mother of trust fall exercises, guided only by my belief that Mal had a plan and it included me jumping out a window. After all, she must have arranged everything else, including Raine literally crashing the meeting.

I was about to second guess myself for the third time when Raine swooped up and caught me. “Don’t struggle!” she called as she slowed our decent.

“What took you so long?” I gasped, trying to swallow my heart which was, in a treasonous move, attempting to escape the fate of its host via my windpipe.

We landed on a smooth rock just inside the shade of Las Pegasus. “I was getting this,” she handed me my hat.

I took it with a swipe and stared at it. It was grey with a faded purple band. The stiff rim was soft with moister from the fall and I noticed for the first time a yellow ring marked where my sweat had stained it. It was new when I bought it special for my interview with Maelstrom, but that felt like an eternity ago.

Maelstrom!

I looked around the rock and saw her at the far end. She had pinned High Roller to the slate and was doing her best gargoyle impression. For a moment she seemed less a Pegasus and more a nightmare you’d dream up in Tartarus.

“Stay here,” I told Raine. Something in my voice made her nod and keep back. I approached Maelstrom carefully, worried how she would react if startled.

“You finally made it,” she said without looking at me. Her eyes were only for High Roller who was sobbing quietly on the ground.

I tried to play it cool, but my recent brush with death was making my voice a little higher than usual: “Glad jumping was the right call.”

“I trusted you would figure it out.” She was too casual about it.

“What happens next, Mal?” I asked carefully.

“That depends on Mister Roller here.” She nudged him with a hoof. “You have the power, Roller: give up the water or watch the city crash to the ground. Either way, the drought will be avoided.”

He mumbled incoherently. I bent down to listen. I couldn’t make him out. I offered a hoof and he took it. Slowly, he pulled himself together, but when the pieces lined up, it was a weaker pony without bluster or pretention. He wasn’t mad, just scared: of Maelstrom, specifically. He shied away from her like a dog who’s just messed the rug.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he sobbed, “it was mine, I bought it, why should you take it? I have the receipts…” He was mewling to an unsympathetic god. Maelstrom had the control, she had the power, even if she dressed it up as a choice: High Roller was going to lose his. And it was his. We conspired to undermine that; to steal from him. Why?

For Equestria. Or was it for Maelstrom?

Was it still Equestria if nopony felt safe because we could take anything we thought we needed? What kind of people are we, if we’ll lie, cheat, and steal to gain an edge? Didn’t that bring us closer to High Roller’s kind?

I said as much to Mal. Her response was predicable: “We gave him a chance to cooperate. This is what happens when you put your selfishness ahead of the greater good.”

“Mal,” I started but she interrupted me:

“My youngest brother calls me that: ‘Mal’. As if I was the problem.” She rolled her eyes. The façade was cracking again. “He was never willing to apply himself. That’s why he’s in ALERT, you know. Such wasted potential.”

I didn’t know, but I saw an opening: “Is this what you do with your potential, Mal? No wonder he didn't want to be like you.”

That got her attention. She rounded on me—rushed me and knocked me to the ground before I could react. It was like getting hit by a train. Like Raine, she had started as a weather pony—they say you never really lose the strength. Trust me, it was there. She spat venom: “You don’t know a thing about my family!”

“I know you! Look at yourself, Mal!” I used the nickname on purpose. It seemed an effective chink in the armor. “Is this the kind of stuff you did to them? Push them into a corner where their only options are lose or lose? That’s not a leader—that's not a sister!”

She slapped me—I wasn’t expecting that. The pain wasn’t all physical, either. “He had a choice! He could have listened to reason!” It wasn't clear if she was talking about High Roller or not—it didn't matter, I didn't care. There were tears now, and they fell on my face like rain drops. Behind her, Las Pegasus began to list. I imagined I could hear the panic in the streets. They’d start the evacuation soon, if it wasn’t already in full swing.

Maelstrom didn’t seem to be paying attention to me anymore. She was lost in her world, her memories, her family. I knew that look—I’d seen it in the mirror too often to forget. It was her regret, her failure. Maybe the realization was coming that all this business with Las Pegasus was wrong—but I couldn’t say, I’m not in her head, despite the hours trying to figure her out. I’m nobody—just the guy she hired to do a job, only now I wasn’t sure what it was. I guess this all fell under “other duties as required.”

I gently nudged her off me and went to High Roller. He was transfixed by the calamity above us. “Mister Roller,” I said calmly. He nodded that he was listening, but his eyes were on Las Pegasus. “As the mayor, you need to declare an emergency. It allows the EWS to use your water.”

“But, but the Applewood Reservoir—” he attempted.

“It doesn’t have a drop to spare—the Director saw to that—and it isn’t enough to fix this.” I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “This is the only way.”

He nodded. I pulled the envelope out of my breast pocket and removed a sheet of paper. I offered him a pen and he signed using my shoulder as a brace. The document in question authorized the EWS to use his water, until which time it was no longer necessary. Prepared by Maelstrom, the document was also a confession that High Roller was responsible for the near catastrophe in Las Pegasus, which I doubt he noticed. She all but put a noose around his neck.

“Raine,” called a commanding voice. Summer rushed to Maelstrom’s side. “Alert the DRP we have permission to use the water.”

Raine gave a single nod and rocketed away. Maelstrom, High Roller, and I remained on the slate and watched as the DRP drew water up from the valley into Las Pegasus. It was quite a sight: like birds charming a water spout up to the clouds.

We didn’t speak, there was nothing to say.

Author's Note:

The last chapter goes up next week!

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[QQwrites]

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May or may not be based on personal experience...