• Published 22nd Jul 2018
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Pandemic: Aftermath - ASGeek2012



The ETS pandemic has been over for six months, but humanity has yet to fully deal with its large pony population.

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Chapter 21 - Turning Points

Bob held the forceps aloft in his magic as he stared intently at the sparkling crystal shard still held in its grip, his Wednesday morning breakfast half-eaten. He barely heard the sigh of exasperation from across the table. "Bob, you've been staring at that thing all morning."

"I know," Bob said without altering his focus, either physically or mentally.

"And all last evening. You barely ate dinner."

"I know."

Suddenly his view became cornsilk yellow feathers, and a wing forced him to lower the forceps.

Bob blinked at a frowning Tina. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what?'" Tina said in irritation.

Bob nudged the wing away with his fore-hoof but kept the forceps lowered. He glanced around as if only noticing then that there were other ponies present, sitting at other tables in the café enjoying breakfast and conversation. He returned his gaze to Tina. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"More like obsessing."

"I'm close to figuring out what happened," said Bob.

"What's the rush?" Tina asked. "You only just started doing this. You never rushed before now."

Bob set the forceps aside. "Village Center had not happened before now."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means there could be a new crackdown on illicit magic use," Bob explained. "I may not have a lot of time."

"Maybe that's all the more reason to set this aside until things blow over."

"That's not the only timeline I'm worried about."

Tina gave him a confused look, but only for a moment. "You mean whether you stay a pony or not."

"I doubt I have more than two months left, if even that," said Bob.

Tina smiled faintly. "Given how interested you are in this crystal thing, maybe you've already made your choice."

Bob glanced at the crystal. "Or this thing will make it for me."

"Come again?"

"Let's just say the crystal ponies were not the only ones surprised to see no cutie mark on me after that. I have no idea if it's because I really didn't succeed at finding my talent, or I blocked it with force of will."

"After hearing what happened, I'm not sure you should try this again," Tina said in a concerned voice. "You were very lucky you didn't hurt your eyes. A normal healing spell can't fix that sort of damage."

"I know, and I would've been forced to seek Equestrian help and admit what I've been doing," Bob said.

Tina just stared.

"What?" said Bob.

"Are you serious?" Tina said. "You could've had a painful and debilitating injury, and all you can think about is how it would've affected your research??"

Bob sighed. "I'm just trying to be practical is all."

"Have you at least done what Heather asked and contacted Sarah and Harold?"

Bob managed not to roll his eyes. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't feel this is their decision to make," said Bob. "I understand Heather's concern, and I don't intend to put myself in danger again."

"Good."

"I won't have to, because I think I might know what went wrong. And what went right."

Tina smiled. "I'd ask you to explain it, but most of what you tell me about magic goes right over my head."

"It's not that hard to understand if you put your mind to it."

"Call me a simple filly, then." Tina extended her wings. "I flap these, I fly. That's about as complex as I need it."

Bob slowly smiled. He loved how Tina could crack jokes to ease the tension. "I told you already that this has to do with something that's not aligned correctly in some Earth minerals."

"Well, in quartz, anyway."

Bob levitated the forceps. "This was the result of correcting that alignment. The problem was, I focused only on this one point in the crystal. The rest of it didn't change, so the crystal became violently unstable."

"That was one hell of an instability," said Tina. "It was like you turned the rest of that crystal into a small stick of dynamite."

"What I'm dealing with is something on a very basic thaumic level, where a large amount of energy can be stored in small spaces. That was the second problem: the realigned matter was trying to absorb all the energy that the crystal ponies were generating."

"So what's the solution?" Tina asked. "Or have you gotten that far yet?"

Bob set the forceps aside. "I have to find a way to change the alignment of all the matter in the crystal at the same time."

"And how hard is that?"

"Not half as hard as the problem of what to do with the crystal pony magic. I need it to catalyze the realignment. If I don't have enough, not all the crystal will realign, and boom. If I have too much, some parts will realign before others, and boom."

"You keep calling it a realignment," said Tina. "But I still don't get what you're realigning."

"It's hard to put into words." Bob looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know how a lock works, right? Meaning one with a physical key."

"Has to do with a bunch of pins that need to line up, and the shape of the key has to line them up properly, right?"

"Exactly. It's something like that. Most matter on Earth doesn't even have the pins. Minerals like quartz do, but they're not lined up."

"Okay, so here's the big question," said Tina. "Why didn't Twilight see this?"

"Because she wasn't looking for why Earth materials were not holding magic," Bob explained. "All she cared about was whether they could hold a magic charge or not, and she made certain assumptions when they couldn't. Without realignment, quartz fails in the exact same way that all other materials do."

"But Twilight said Earth materials needed to be exposed to ambient magic to be suitable."

"To continue the lock analogy, she was assuming no materials had the pins, that they had to develop over time and would be aligned properly from the start. She never expected some materials might already have the pins and simply need a little nudge."

"I guess that makes sense." Tina paused to chew on a few bites of her breakfast. "But now I've got a question: why quartz of all things?"

"I don't follow," said Bob.

"From what you've told me about that report Twilight published, she said she had expected precious gemstones to have the best chance of holding magic eventually. Something to do with their crystal structure."

"I can only speculate that she expected materials not to change their basic nature very much," Bob explained. "The Farhearing Stone I examined, for example, was very similar to emerald."

"Still, it would be interesting to know how it got started in quartz before any other material," said Tina.

Bob looked around. At a nearby table, three crystal ponies sat, talking in excited whispers. Occasionally one would look Bob's way, or at the tiny crystal shard despite it being no more than a sparkle in the light from that distance.

He turned back to Tina and lowered his voice. "What concerns me are the long term implications."

"How so?" asked Tina.

"Quartz is a relatively common mineral. If all or even just most of it is suitable to be converted into thaumically-aware crystal, that's a huge amount of crystal. Enough to potentially build hundreds if not thousands of structures similar to the Crystal Empire."

Tina's pupils shrank. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Humans are already wary about pony magic. I don't want to think about how they would react to that many crystal cities popping up everywhere."

"It was just an example," said Bob. "Any endeavor to build that many crystal structures would take a very long time, and it's not the most efficient use of magic crystal. My point is, this is potentially a discovery akin to the steam engine that helped usher in the industrial age. I'm not even talking about what crystal ponies could do with it."

"Maybe you're getting ahead of yourself," Tina said in a cautioning tone. "You still haven't figured out how to do this without hurting yourself."

Bob stared at the crystal shard again. "I know, and I feel I need to do so very soon. The future of pony magic on Earth could depend on it."


Strong Hooves had sat at the top of the hill since the sun had risen an hour before, staring down into the settlement that had been his pride and joy. He took in a deep breath, and in his head he could again smell the sharp stench of the human's blood. He shuddered as the image of the man's shattered leg would not leave him.

He heard footsteps crunching against the dormant grass and saw a human-shaped shadow approach from the side. Without looking in that direction, he asked in a low and listless voice, "Have you any word?"

"The surgeons were able to save his leg," came Mary Tanner's cool voice. "They had to put some pins in to keep it all together, but they think it will heal in time. He has a really long and painful road of healing and physical therapy ahead of him before he gets the full use of that leg back."

"I'm pleased to hear he will recover."

"So tell me," Mary said. "Was it worth it?"

Strong looked up. "I don't follow."

"You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about!" Mary bellowed.

Strong's ears flattened, not so much at the volume of her voice as the rare use of a curse word. "I didn't expect to have to contend with a human with a rifle."

"You're not getting it! That stupid stunt of yours was dangerous to begin with."

"I thought it was an acceptable risk."

"That's what it always is until something happens," said Mary. "It's like playing catch with a grenade. It's fine and dandy until the day the pin falls out."

Strong frowned slightly. "I've heard all this already from Water Wings. He has most thoroughly chewed me out over it."

"Maybe not enough. Seriously, Strong, what the fuck?! I've known you to be hardheaded before, but I thought you were better than this."

"Better than what?" Strong said in a bitter voice. "Do you think I actually like the fact that a human was hurt?"

"You had a funny way of showing it," Mary snapped. "You and the other ponies left as quickly as your hooves and wings would take you."

"We left behind a unicorn with a healing spell. While he could not completely heal the wound, he at least staunched the bleeding. I chose to have the rest of us leave to avoid a confrontation with the sheriff."

"You mean avoid arrest," Mary muttered. "Maybe that's another thing you didn't think of. Even if that gun hadn't gone off, you think they can just ignore this?"

"I had thought of that as well," Strong said in a lower voice. "The worst charge they could level would be trespassing, and it would not be worth their time to go through the legal hoops to arrest us in Homestead land."

"Now they can bring worse charges than that."

"We're straying from the subject. I felt I had to take the risk to advance our cause. I thought you understood that or you would've left a long time ago."

"I stayed on because I felt like I was something of an anchor for your group," said Mary.

Strong tilted his head. "An anchor? For what?"

"To better ground your cohorts in the fact that not all humans are your enemies."

"That's not what I think."

"But there are ponies in your organization who do," Mary said. "You're just blind to it."

"If you're speaking about my hotheaded sister Morning Glow--"

"It's more than that!" Mary exclaimed. "When you first took over the leadership of the Shimmerists here, I thought you were the most level-headed of anyone I had seen before you. You reined in the more radical ideas. I stayed on to encourage that thinking."

"And I continue to do that," Strong declared, though the conviction in his voice was weak.

"Then explain to me what you just had them do," Mary said in exasperation. "Those were not the actions of someone who wanted to pursue a saner path."

Strong frowned. "And you're implying that what we did was insane?"

"I don't have a better word for it. It's not what you would have done when you first started in this role. Do you remember how you came to be their leader in the first place?"

"Of course I do. Do you really wish me to repeat it?"

"Yes," said Mary. "Maybe it will make you understand."

"Rock Steady was my predecessor," said Strong. "He became incensed at the founding of a Rehumanization Center in town. He obsessed over it until he finally wanted to lead some ponies in a bid to wreck the place."

"Yes, and who stopped him?"

"I did, of course. It was a foolish idea from the start."

"I remember that," Mary said. "You had a very loud and very public disagreement with him."

"And I won ponies to my side, the ... saner side," said Strong, his voice lowering.

"The saner side," Mary said flatly. "Is that what you call what you did yesterday?"

Strong took a deep breath and spoke in a softer voice. "I thought my plan was less radical than his by far."

Mary shook her head. "I don't believe you were thinking that at all."

No, Strong hadn't. Only in retrospect was he trying to justify his actions. Yet again, all he could see in his head was that human and all the blood.

"I think you let the more radical faction dictate your actions," Mary said in a lower voice. "You were so concerned about maintaining cohesion among the Shimmerists that you let it blind you."

"Morning Glow is the primary voice of that more radical faction," Strong countered. "And I have reined her in more times than I can count."

"But she's your sister. You ponies put a lot of emphasize on friends and kin. I think you let her influence your thinking more than you want to admit."

As she spoke, Water Wings landed nearby.

Strong turned to him. "Are you here to continue berating me about the error of my ways?"

"No, I'm just here to relay a report from the patrol wings," Water said.

Strong tensed. "And?"

"No evidence of any law enforcement moving towards the settlement."

Strong let out a long breath. "Good."

"But that's not going to last forever," said Water. "I've actually been hovering nearby for a bit, listening to your conversation. Mary is right. They can charge a bunch of us with something more serious than trespassing."

"I'm well aware of that!" Strong snapped. "The question is, will they bother?"

"A human was shot!" Water cried. "Of course they'll bother!"

Strong sighed, his eyes glistening slightly.

"I'm sorry I ever participated in this," Water muttered. "I should've tried harder to convince you to abandon this plan."

Strong regarded Mary for a moment before replying, "From what Mary has pointed out to me rather forcefully, it likely would have made little difference." He turned more fully towards Water. "Do you wish me to admit I was wrong? Then I do so. I made a mistake."

"It doesn't do a whole lot to remedy the situation," Water said.

"You're correct, which is why I need to talk to you rather urgently." Strong turned to Mary. "You've given me something to think about. I regret if this has caused irreparable harm to our friendship."

"I'm not quite sure what we had could be called a friendship," Mary said. "But if it means you'll listen to reason, I'll take it. I'll go see how the Perkins family is doing if they're back from visiting Tom in the hospital."

"Please do so." Strong waited until Mary was away before turning back to Water. "Unfortunately, you're likely correct in that the sheriff will move forward with pressing charges."

"I spoke with a pony who used to be a criminal defense attorney," said Water. "He thinks the worst charge they can lay down that has any chance of sticking is reckless endangerment."

Strong frowned. "We were hardly being ... all right, never mind, a debate for another day. We must assume we're on borrowed time. I'm also assuming you will not be charged as you were only in a support role. You didn't actively trespass or disarm the guards."

Water raised an eyebrow. "What's your point?"

"That I may need to entrust the leadership of the Shimmerists to you."

Water's pupils shrank. "You can't be serious!"

"Why not?"

"With as much as I've disagreed with you lately, I thought I was the last one you'd ever want to succeed you."

Strong gave him a sad look. "It is perhaps because of that very reason that you may be the best candidate."

Water glanced back the way Mary had gone. "Did what Mary said really have that much of an effect on you?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Wow. And from a human, no less."

"The idea that I find all human ideas to be useless is a myth," said Strong. "Mary has shown time and time again that she is a human who can be trusted. Perhaps she is not enlightened enough to wish transformation, but I had hopes she would come around in time, that perhaps her presence here represented a desire she didn't feel comfortable revealing." Strong paused. "Her real reasons were a revelation, to say the least."

"I don't mean to beat a dead ho--" Water cut himself off. "I mean, I don't want to keep being down on this, but I wish you had come to a lot of these realizations a day earlier."

Strong waved a hoof. "Lamenting about past decisions will get us nowhere. We need to understand what our path forward is, and Prince Blueblood may be key to that."

Water gave him a wary look. "You know how I feel about collusion with him."

"Yes, which is why I want to resolve the matter before you take the reins of governance," said Strong. "I daresay that if we manage to obtain protectorate status sooner rather than later, we will no longer be subject to human law, and all of us will be safe from prosecution."

"That's a long shot, if you ask me."

"Nevertheless, we must pursue it. I intend to contact Blueblood today to check on his progress." Strong considered. "Which brings us to another matter. I'm going to transfer ownership of the gem to you."

Water backed up a step. "Uh, why?"

"Because if law enforcement does move on us, they may come bearing a search warrant. I cannot have them discover that gem."

Water frowned. "And if they search my place, I get the blame. No deal."

Strong uttered an exasperated sigh. "Surely you can see we must do something."

"Only thing I can think of is hiding it somewhere. What about that bunker you have just outside the settlement, the one where unicorns do magic research? No human should know about that, with as careful as you are about it."

"I was thinking more in terms of ease of access, but we may not have a choice," said Strong.

"I can't think of a better idea," said Water.

Strong nodded. "Now, back to the subject of Shimmerist leadership."

"I still don't think I'm a good fit," Water said. "Wouldn't your sister take over for you anyway?"

"Considering she was one of the unicorns directly responsible for disarming the guards -- not to mention causing the gun to go off -- she is more likely than me to face charges," said Strong. "And even before my talk with Mary, I considered Morning to be too hot-headed to be in charge. I simply don't have anypony else I feel I can trust with a leadership role."

Water hesitated for a long moment. "I'm going to have think on this. I can't make a snap decision. I've made too many of those since my transformation, and now they're coming back to bite me. I have to make sure this is really what I want to do."

"I understand," said Strong in a low voice. "But we may not have a lot of time."

"I'll do my best," said Water. "That's all I can tell you right now."


Sam returned to his apartment and was about to fit the key into the lock when he heard his brother's agitated voice from within. He carefully placed his ear to the door and listened.

"I know, I know!" Larry said with a quick but heavy sigh. "I've been trying to get that jerk of a brother to go along with this since I got here. What more can I do?"

As Larry fell silent, Sam heard a faint creak. Just in front of the sofa was a loose floorboard that made that sound when anyone stepped on it. Sam heard it again a few seconds later. Larry was pacing.

"Yeah, I know time is critical, you've been harping on that for a while now," Larry said. "Yes, I'll try to get him to do it today ... All right! All right! I will get it done today!"

Sam frowned. Who the hell was Larry talking to?

"Jesus, you guys are ... Yeah, I know how important this is. Yeah, yeah, national security and all that."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not waffling. I want to do this. All right, bye."

Sam heard Larry curse a few times before going quiet. Sam waited a few moments before he unlocked and opened the door. Larry had returned to his usual place on the sofa, as if he had become a permanent fixture. He set down his bottle of beer with a distinct clunk on the table and stood. "About damn time you got home."

Sam closed the door sedately behind him. "I've been busy."

"Doing what?" Larry demanded.

"Following up more leads for a job. You remember what's it's like to have a job, right? Oh, wait, never mind, I forgot who I was talking to."

"That took you all morning?"

Sam slipped off his jacket. "Yeah, pretty much."

Sam had only partially lied. He had indeed had some job leads to investigate, but much of his morning was spent trying to learn more about Bev and her situation, not to mention a little visit to what he considered the seedier side of town.

"And maybe you've had so much beer that your mind is addled," Sam said as he hung up his jacket. "I told you early this morning I had stuff to do."

"Yeah, and I asked you to go with me to meet up with Bev first, and you blew me off."

"I didn't have time."

"No time for your own sister?"

Sam bit back the automatic response, that Larry was the last person to be criticizing him in that regard. "What's the rush? As far as I can tell, she's safe."

"My friends are busy people," said Larry.

Sam closed the closet door and turned towards his brother. "That who you were talking to just now?"

Larry's eyes widened, but he recovered a few seconds later. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You were loud enough I could hear you through the door. Your Humanity First cronies, perhaps?"

Larry frowned. "What's it to you?"

"Because if that's who they were, it didn't sound like you were on good terms with them."

"Maybe that should tell you how urgent it is that we do this," Larry said. "They don't like to be kept waiting."

Sam put his hands on his hips. "Who doesn't like to be kept waiting, Larry?"

"I told you already. My buddies at Humanity First."

"Bullshit."

Larry looked askance at his brother. "Huh?"

Sam approached Larry. "I decided today I wanted to know a little more about the organization you supposedly belong to."

Larry gave Sam a nervous look. "Supposedly? Uh, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I visited their office here in Denver just now."

Larry's eyes widened again.

"And guess what?" Sam said. "No one there has ever heard of you."

The moment Larry gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look, Sam knew he had finally caught his brother in the lie. That Larry managed to recover quickly meant nothing. "HF is a big organization! Any random people you meet are not going to know everyone!"

Larry, of course, had a valid point. Someone better able to maintain a poker face would be able to properly shoot down Sam's logic. Yet this was Larry, who had all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

Sam took a step closer to his brother, and Larry retreated a half-step. "All right, out with it. I want to know exactly who you're working for."

"I already told you--!"

"And I don't believe you!" Sam snapped. "When was the last time you ever did anything vaguely political? Even with them paying you, I have trouble seeing you doing something like this."

Larry gave him a flustered look. "Does it really matter? What matters is that Bev is delusional and needs help."

"That what your boss is telling you?"

"I don't need anyone to tell me that. The fact that she keeps hanging on to some dream of becoming a pony is enough. She's even been staying with ponies for months as if hoping she'll somehow turn into one of them. If that's not someone who needs help, I don't know what is."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Staying with ponies for months?"

"Yeah, and you can't tell me that's not crazy just by itself and--"

"How the hell did you know that?"

Larry faltered. "Er, what?"

Sam frowned. "Bev had told me she had been living with other ponies, but I never told you that. You seem to know an awful lot about someone you haven't seen in a long time."

"I kept tabs on her," Larry said in a weak voice.

"More bullshit. Face it, you've cared about no one but yourself as long as I've known you. You expect me to believe that you've changed?" Sam gestured to the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. "This just proves you're still nothing but a mooch and a deadbeat."

"This is not the time to argue about who's the better brother!" Larry cried.

"You're right, because there is no debate." Sam headed towards the door to his apartment and opened it. "Get the fuck out, Larry. Go mooch off someone else."

Larry stared in a mix of astonishment and fear. "You can't be serious! You'd turn out your own brother?!"

"Yes, something I should've done a long time ago."

Larry ground his teeth. "You can't do that to me."

"You have thirty seconds to get out," Sam declared. "Or I call the cops and report you for trespassing. Oh, and leave your copy of the keys on the table."

"No cop's gonna buy trespassing while I still have those keys!"

"You really want to put that to the test?"

Truth be told, Sam did feel guilty turning out his own family, but it was clear he couldn't trust Larry's intentions. He needed to find his own way to contact Bev, and he couldn't risk Larry reporting his activities back to whoever his contacts really were.

Larry fumed. "I'd like to see you force me out of here. You were always a lightweight when it came to real fighting. You decking our old man was pure luck."

"Oh, come at me, bro," Sam said. "Then the cops can add assault to the charges."

Larry glared at his brother, then finally dug out his set of the apartment keys and threw them down on the coffee table. "Happy now?!"

"Delighted. Now get out."

Larry stomped over to the door, and from the look he gave his brother, Sam was indeed afraid he might be on the wrong end of a fist. Instead, Larry snarled, "Listen up, bro. Working through me was the best shot we had at getting Bev out of there safely. Now all bets are off."

"You fucking little bastard," Sam growled. "How dare you use our sister as some sort of pawn. You're worse than I ever remember you being."

"I'm the one who had a fucking clue what's really going on."

"And if you really did care for Bev rather than a meal ticket, you'd educate me."

Larry simply clenched his teeth again and stormed out.

Sam slammed the door shut. He made a note to contact the landlord and have the lock on the door changed.


Tonya stepped into the conference room of the FBI operations center in Aurora where two of the senior agents assigned to the Denver operation were already in attendance. She glanced from one to the other as she hopped into her seat. "Agents Danton and Handel, I take it?"

"That's correct," said Danton while the other nodded.

"So what's the latest intelligence?" Tonya asked.

"Both Miss Tanner and Ms. Kelton are still holed up in the pony sector," said Handel. "We have only an approximate fix on their location."

"We shouldn't need it," said Tonya. "The whole idea was to flush them out into the open. Which reminds me, how are preparations going in that regard? Do we have the target location secured?"

"Yes," said Agent Danton. "We've closed off the back roads and trails into the area. Should remain quiet for as long as we need."

Tonya did find it odd that Matthew -- not usually one to micromanage his underlings -- had been very specific about the operation happening in a secluded area. She understood that would minimize the risk to civilians if Miss Tanner put on another show of magic as powerful as the first, but thought perhaps he was being a little overly cautious.

"However, we have an unfortunate development which puts the primary plan at risk," Danton continued.

Tonya managed to refrain from responding with "now what." It seemed everything that could go wrong with this operation had gone wrong. "What is it?"

"We can no longer rely on our main collaborator, Larry Kelton."

"Let me guess," Tonya said. "His brother Sam started figuring out something was wrong."

"My understanding is that Mr. Kelton did not reveal his involvement with the bureau."

"Maybe not, but from the previous intelligence we had concerning Sam dragging his feet, he didn't need a confession to figure out something wasn't kosher." Tonya sighed. "I could've told you this would happen, dammit."

"There's still a chance that Sam Kelton may be of some use," said Handel.

"Oh?"

"We had already green-lighted an alternate plan for Larry and Sam to come into the pony sector. Sam may now feel it's safe to seek out his sister on his own. We can advise the military police to let him through."

Tonya shook her head. "That's too unreliable and could take too long. Mr. Fuller has emphasized a need for expediency. How close are we to finding exactly where Miss Tanner and Ms. Kelton are located?"

"We expect to know that within a few days," said Handel.

"That might be our only option. It's certainly better than waiting for Sam."

"Unfortunately, there's another bit of intelligence we received which further complicates matters."

Tonya was unable to restrain herself. "What now?"

"The ponies of Greenwood Village have chosen to hold a post-harvest festival," Handel explained. "They have asked for volunteers to help organize it."

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me," Tonya groaned.

"We expect there to be a large influx of humans shortly."

"Mr. Fuller made it very clear that we are to absolutely minimize human exposure to magic in this operation," said Danton.

"Yes, you don't have to tell me that," Tonya said in a testy voice. "We'll need another option. The longer we wait, the more we hit up against Fuller's hard no-human-exposure requirement."

Tonya refrained from mentioning that she thought Fuller was being unreasonable. As far as she could tell, the agents who were exposed to Jenny's magic had no lasting ill effects. Why was he so paranoid about human exposure?

She felt a buzzing sensation in the pouch holding her cell phone that was strapped to her right foreleg just above the hoof, signaling that a text message had come in. She made a mental note to check it later.

"We might get lucky and discover their location sooner," said Handel. "Then we could raid that area directly."

"And risk more humans being around." Tonya looked thoughtful. "All right, I have an idea that could help us locate them faster. How many crystal ponies do we have assigned to this operation other than me?"

"Two," said Handel. "I was going to forward their records to your office."

"Please do so and schedule a briefing with them as soon as possible," said Tonya. "So here's my idea: we have several agents fan out in unmarked cars along the roads that the ponies have designated for motor vehicles. They'll each have a crystal pony concealed in the back seat, and I'll volunteer to join that effort. Between the three of us, we can potentially detect their magic and triangulate their position."

The two agents exchanged a dubious look before Danton said, "That runs the risk of more contact with humans entering the district, which is against Mr. Fuller's--"

"Look, he can't have it both ways! There has to be some sort of compromise. Either we take a risk now or a risk later. In my view, the one we take now is the lesser one."

While Danton considered, Handel commented, "We may have to run this one up to Mr. Fuller's office for his approval."

Tonya hopped out of her seat, her hooves clopping sharply against the tiled floor. "Then do so ASAP, if you would. I'm sure he'll understand that it's the best option we have right now. Is there anything else?"

"No, that should be it."

Tonya nodded. "I'll be in my office. Please let me know the moment you hear anything."

She headed out of the room and heaved another sigh. This was getting to be a logistics nightmare. Just how in the hell were these people managing to stay one step ahead? In going over the briefings earlier that morning concerning recent events, she realized that either these people were extremely lucky or had some sort of counter-intelligence that informed them of the bureau's every move.

She frowned as she entered her office. The idea that someone sympathetic to their cause inside the FBI was feeding them information was a complication she didn't need. It was a wild theory for sure, but no stranger than what had already transpired.

As she sat down in her chair, she extended her right foreleg. She slipped her phone out and onto the desk with practiced ease and waved her hoof once over the screen. It came out of sleep mode, showing her the new text notification.

"Show new text," said Tonya.

Hello Tonya, long time no see. Jason Madsen here. Can we talk?

Tonya smiled upon hearing from an old friend. "Start text reply." Tonya waited for the new message screen to appear. "Good to hear from you. Very busy. Can it wait until the weekend?" She paused, then said, "Send message."

The message blinked away as it was sent.

A few minutes later came his response: Critical I speak to you ASAP. Matter of national security.

Tonya's eyebrows rose.

My partner Anthony Heller and I have info you need to hear.

"Whoa, what?" Tonya murmured. Jason was Heller's partner?

Needs to be private meeting. Inform no one.

Tonya frowned. More cloak and dagger? Just what in hell was going on?

"Show calendar," Tonya said to the phone. Her eyes slid over her appointments, gesturing with her hoof to scroll. The briefing with the other crystal ponies had already been added to her schedule for later that morning. Now she would have to push it until the afternoon, which would further delay launching the operation if Fuller's approval came through by then.

"Start text reply. I can meet you only if you can do it in the next half hour, and this better be damned important. Send message."

After less than a minute, Jason's reply was simply an address. She cross referenced the message with Google maps and found that the location was not within walking distance; she would have to get a taxi or private driver service.

"Dammit," Tonya muttered as she collected her phone and jumped off the chair.


Jason waited at a bench in a park by a fountain that had yet to be turned off and drained for the season. He thought the white noise would foil anyone trying to eavesdrop on him, and he made sure it was between him and the nearest building so someone with a targeting mike would have trouble. This was one of the few times he lamented the restrictions on unicorn magic, as having one of those nifty privacy spells would be a boon.

His ears pricked at the sound of approaching hooves, and there was no mistaking Tonya, not with that dramatic dark coloration of hers. "Good to see you again, Tonya."

"Good to see you, too," said Tonya. "Now what in the blue blazes is this all about?"

"Yeah, that's the Tonya I know, always right to the point," said Jason.

"Yes, and I want you to get to yours. When I said I was busy, I meant it."

"And I know what you're busy with."

"I'm not at liberty to--"

"Fuller wants Miss Tanner and Ms. Kelton in custody," said Jason. "They're in the pony sector right now."

Tonya blinked, then ground her teeth and stepped up to him until they were almost muzzle-to-muzzle. "You know better than to start spouting off in a public place about a classified operation."

"And just why is it so damn classified?" Jason demanded.

Tonya gave him a confused look. "Huh?"

"My partner's office was never informed about it. We had to put two and two together from other bits and pieces."

Jason was not about to reveal that they were in contact with the very people whom Tonya was seeking to capture, not until he knew how much he could trust her. He was hoping Tonya had not been compromised, that she was operating under ignorance rather than collusion.

Tonya hesitated. "Be that as it may, I'm sure there were good reasons for not disseminating that information."

"Oh, come off it," Jason scoffed. "You've been working with the bureau long enough to know that's horseshit."

Tonya gave him a surprised look.

"They're not supposed to keep things like that secret from their own agents who share the same damn jurisdiction," said Jason. "Especially not someone like Anthony Heller."

"I had heard that he had rubbed a few politicos the wrong way," said Tonya.

"And why should that matter? Besides, Fuller should be above that sort of thing when it comes to assigning agents to important operations."

"I was told your partner was working terrorism."

"He is," said Jason. "But he still shouldn't be actively blocked from learning about this operation, especially not when he's in a good position to support it."

Tonya gave an exasperated sigh. "All right, fine, say there is something funny going on with the way information is being handled in the bureau. It's not my call. I'm not an agent."

"No, but you directly support the bureau. You should know exactly what you're supporting."

Tonya frowned. "I'm supporting bringing into custody two potentially dangerous human magic users. That's all I care about right now. You can go on about broken procedures and protocol, and it still doesn't change the fact that I have a job to do."

"I agree that at least Miss Tanner needs to be taken into custody so she can be examined by proper Equestrian authorities and get her PREQUES record updated," Jason said. "But I have reason to believe that this may not be what Fuller has in store for her, and what he does have planned may not be ethical."

Tonya raised an eyebrow. "That's one hell of an accusation."

"Yeah, it is," Jason said. "And we don't make it lightly. I'll spell it out for you: Fuller's up to something that's definitely unethical and almost assuredly illegal."

Tonya remained silent, looking thoughtful.

"I'm taking a huge chance here, Tonya," Jason said in a softer voice. "That things like this still matter to you. As a cop, you'd never knowingly do something that furthered an unethical cause. You were scrupulous in your--"

"That's enough," Tonya said in a flat voice.

Jason quieted when he saw the debate in his friend's eyes.

Tonya took a deep breath. "All right. There have been a few odd things going on at MIDROC, but I had assumed that was just Fuller's style."

"What kind of odd things?"

"Like the way no crystal ponies were assigned to the first operation when it was clearly known that Miss Tanner had lingering magic."

"Yeah, we heard about that, too," said Jason. "Only conclusion we can come to is Fuller wanted that operation to fail."

"That's even more serious," said Tonya. "Now you're talking conspiracy and culpable negligence. Why in hell would he want it to fail and reflect badly on his office?"

"How can it reflect badly when he's hushed that up, too? The media never got wind of it."

Tonya hesitated. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," said Jason. "We can only speculate, but not having crystal ponies there gave Miss Tanner a chance to show exactly what she could do. We already suspect he's been working with another human magic user."

"Who?"

"The same one behind the Village Center incident."

Tonya's pupils shrank slightly, but she still spoke in a stern voice. "Listen to me carefully, Jason. The only reason I haven't stopped this conversation yet is because you're a trusted friend, and you're working with Heller. Otherwise, this would sound like so much contrived conspiracy theory."

"Tell me about it!" Jason cried. "But remember when you first heard that people were turning into colorful little horses because of the flu? Bet you blew that off at first as ludicrous. Now look where we are. Now look at what we are."

"That's hardly the same thing," Tonya said, though her conviction was weak.

"My point is, we need to be a little more willing to accept the absurd these days, especially in light of what happened at Village Center."

"What would you have me do?" Tonya demanded. "I have to help run this operation."

"And just what are you planning to do?"

"I can't tell you that. You want that information, you'll have to go through the proper channels at the bureau."

Jason face-hoofed. "The same channels that are being blocked to us!"

"I can't help that."

"All right, how about this?" Jason said. "Can you delay the operation?"

Tonya looked about to protest, but sighed and said, "How long?"

"Friday."

"That's out of the question. Fuller would go ballistic with that much of a wait."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, and I know why. Every day that passes means we get closer to exposing him for the fraud he is. Let me guess: in all the directives Fuller gave you about this operation, priority number one was to make sure there were as few humans around as possible."

"Of course," said Tonya. "That will reduce the amount of magical exposure to humans."

"And it conveniently means fewer witnesses," said Jason.

"That's all just speculation!" Tonya protested.

"Okay, how about this? Has your office been tasked with contacting local law enforcement prior to the operation?"

Tonya paused. "I'm not sure."

"If you can't say for sure, I'm betting the answer is no."

"My understanding is that the bureau is not required to give that notification," Tonya said.

"No, but it's a very common courtesy and shows trust between the federal and local levels," said Jason. "Trust that Fuller doesn't feel he can give."

Tonya let out a windy sigh. "All right, let's say I find a way to delay this operation. For what purpose?"

"We're tracking down that other human magic user I mentioned."

"That's another thing. In her press conference, Princess Twilight didn't mention that you were even close to identifying the perp."

"Because we asked her not to."

Tonya gave him a surprised look. "You're in contact with the Princess?!"

"Maybe that should give you an idea how big this is," said Jason. "Anyway, we're close to getting a warrant for his arrest on charges of identity theft. We're hoping to keep him incarcerated long enough to track down his real identity. We feel that information will help start the process of nailing Fuller to the wall."

Tonya ground her teeth. "Shit, this is not what I signed on for!"

"Tonya, you're a cop--"

"Used to be a cop."

"I've seen you after your transformation," said Jason. "You never stopped being a cop."

"Maybe I should," Tonya growled. "It will stop me for pining for something I can't have again."

"Horseshit."

Tonya recoiled as if slapped.

"I saw several ponies working on the Denver police force," Jason said. "The only one stopping you from being a cop again is you."

Jason had not expected the conversation to take this sort of a turn, and he wanted to buck himself for possibly alienating Tonya in the process. Yet he wondered if she needed this sort of shock to get her thinking clearly about what was going on. She could not be so wrapped up in doing her job that she refused to look at the bigger picture.

Tonya gave him a hurt look, but it lasted only a few seconds before being replaced by anger. "You have no right making accusations like that. You don't have a goddamn clue as to what my life is like or what decisions I feel I had to make!"

"Granted," Jason said in a softer voice. "I apologize for being out of line, but I'm rather desperate to get you to listen to me. I was hoping you still had those ethics that I so admired."

"And those same ethics tell me that I need to go ahead with bringing those people into custody."

"I know, but only if they're going to be allowed due process of the law. Right now, I'm not so sure that will happen with things as they are now."

"Fuller can't exactly spirit them off or pretend that they don't exist," said Tonya.

"Except he's already done that with regard to Ryan," said Jason. "That's the name of our perp from Village Center. His record in the PREQUES database was altered or erased. If Fuller has the resources to do that once, he can do it again concerning Miss Tanner and Ms. Kelton."

Tonya considered for a long moment, her eyes uncertain.

"I'm not sure what more I can give you," said Jason. "I've already told you enough that you could get me and my partner in a lot of serious shit with Fuller."

"I wouldn't do that if for no other reason than I don't interfere with bureau business," said Tonya.

"Or maybe you're starting to consider that I might be right. What's Tonya the cop thinking about it?"

Tonya glared at him but said, "That there's something worth investigating here."

Jason let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"But I'm not the one to do it."

"But those who can need help."

"You've trusted me this far," Tonya began in a lower voice. "I need you to trust me a little more. Are you in touch with Miss Tanner and Ms. Kelton?"

Jason hesitated only a moment before replying, "I am."

"Then maybe we can arrange for something that will satisfy both of us," said Tonya. "You arrange for them to come into custody peacefully."

"But that--"

Tonya held up a fore-hoof. "Let me finish."

Jason nodded. "Go on."

"You and Heller will be the ones to take them into formal custody," said Tonya. "I imagine Heller should take the lead on it, since he technically has seniority despite taking a hit to his rank after ETS. That will make it harder for Fuller to pull anything, if he's really of the mindset you claim."

"That's going to be a hard sell," said Jason. "There's any number of ways it could go wrong, especially if agents picked by Fuller eventually show up."

"You said you needed a delay," said Tonya. "That would give you that delay and also satisfy the law. Hell, when I was a cop, there were times we specifically took someone into custody on some minor charge just to protect them from others they later gave testimony against."

"It will still take some convincing. Could you meet us halfway and ask for a delay anyway? Even just a day?"

"I can try, but if you're right about Fuller, then any delay I ask for is going to seem suspicious, especially in light of the fact that I've already sent him a new plan to expedite matters in light of some recent setbacks."

"I'll talk to them as soon as I can," said Jason. "Even if they agree, they may need that delay anyway to arrange things at their end."

"Get back to me ASAP," said Tonya. "No later than this afternoon."

Jason nodded. "It was good to see you again, Tonya, even if I did have to get under your skin a bit."

Tonya smirked faintly. "You always did even as a human. I'm actually glad to see that. Means you kept your personality through the transformation and didn't fall for the whole friendship and rainbows crap. Maybe we're cutesy ponies now, but that doesn't make the world any less dangerous a place."

"True," said Jason. "Besides, anyone can plainly see I'm cuter than you."

Tonya snorted, then laughed.

Jason smiled. He had hoped to end this on a more upbeat note.

"I have to admit, I hope you're wrong about Fuller," Tonya said in a soft but serious tone.

"We want to be," said Jason. "But all the evidence is suggesting otherwise."

Tonya backed up a step. "I have to go. I'll be expecting your call."

Jason nodded. "I'll contact you regardless of what they decide."

"And when this is over, don't be a stranger," said Tonya. "I mean it."

"I'll buy you a drink," said Jason. "We're all going to need one when this is over."


Tom had manged to stay awake while his family had visited, but the pain medications were taking a toll on him. His leg still throbbed despite the drugs, but he had drifted off into at least a partial sleep that allowed him to retreat from the real world and try to stop thinking too hard on the turn his life had taken.

He was prodded into wakefulness when the pain threatened to return, and all he could do was wait until the nurse came to give him the next dose. He stared down at his leg in morose contemplation. They told him the operation to put his leg back together had been successful, and that he had a unicorn's spell to thank for closing the artery that had ruptured before the paramedics had arrived.

Yet had it not been for ponies in the first place, he wouldn't be here with damn pins in his leg, months of healing ahead along with even more physical therapy after that.

He tensed at the clop of hooves in the hallway. When he had become coherent enough after arriving at the hospital to see that they had pony volunteers working there, he had specifically asked that none be assigned to him. The only ponies he could tolerate in his presence were his own family.

Tom ignored the sound and looked over to the stand where a pitcher of water and a plastic cup sat. When he reached for the cup, his movements still clumsy from the effect of the drugs, he accidentally knocked it off the table instead.

Before the curse could reach his lips, the cup suddenly appeared floating in mid-air, surrounded by a magic glow. "Do you wish me to pour the water for you?" came a gentle male voice.

Tom frowned as his gaze fell on the red-brown unicorn with the gray mane who stood at the entrance to the room, a soft smile on the stallion's face. Despite the pony's calm demeanor, Tom was in no mood to be generous. "I had told the staff that I didn't want ... um ..."

Tom stared. Was that a Roman collar around the pony's neck?

"Is there something wrong?" asked the pony as he set the cup down on the table. "Do you need me to call for a nurse or attendant?"

Tom hesitated, as if trying to believe what he was seeing. "Are you really a priest?"

The unicorn smiled and stepped further into the room. "Yes. I'm Father Lyle Donovan. I normally work out of a church in Carbondale, but where there are not very many priests among the Catholic ponies out this way, I make rounds in several towns." He glanced at the pitcher. "Would you like some water?"

As much as Tom didn't want to deal with ponies anymore -- not to mention how long it had been since he had last attended Mass -- he couldn't see himself turning out the priest. "Yes, please."

Lyle used his magic to pour the water into the cup. Tom looked at the pony's haunches, where a Christian cross superimposed on the Eucharistic host was the priest's cutie mark. He was reminded of his argument that cutie marks railroaded one into a particular course in life, but what of a priest who was supposed to be that dedicated?

Lyle levitated the cup before Tom, and he took it in his hands. "Thank you."

"I thought I might pay you a visit to see if you had any spiritual needs," said Lyle. "I'm willing to take confession if you feel the need for it."

Tom took a long drink of water to delay his embarrassed response. "Um, I have to admit, it's been a while since I've been to church. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, my son," said Lyle. "With as chaotic as things have been in the world since ETS, keeping to a regular schedule of Mass attendance is not a high a priority."

Tom refrained from admitting that he had been straying even before ETS started.

Before he could think of something else to say, footsteps rushed towards his room, and one of the nurses stepped inside. "Mr. Perkins, I'm terribly sorry, I had no idea Father Donovan was here today, or I would have made your wishes known about--"

"It's okay," Tom said quickly. "I'm fine with him being here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

The nurse nodded and smiled, looking relieved. "I'll be bringing lunch in another fifteen minutes. I'll have your next dose of medication then."

"Thank you," Tom said before the nurse headed out.

Lyle had been quiet during the exchange, but his face betrayed curiosity. "Are you indeed okay with my presence?"

"I'm fine with it, Father." After a moment of hesitation, Tom added, "It was a bad run-in with ponies that led to my injury."

Lyle gave him a sad look. "I'm aware of the circumstances behind your unfortunate situation. I had counseled restraint many, many times to the Shimmerist leader on my visits here, but apparently to no avail."

"He didn't strike me as someone who listened to anyone but himself," Tom said in a dry voice. "Like a lot of the ponies in that settlement."

"I know this is difficult for you, but please don't be so quick to judge. If it helps any, there are many ponies who sincerely regret what has happened."

"Tell that to my family who had to witness me being gunned down," Tom muttered. "My daughter Molly wouldn't stop crying for hours."

"Did you see what happened when you were shot?"

"All I felt was the bullet hitting me. I don't remember a whole lot after that."

"Your injury was an accident," said Lyle.

"So I'm told," Tom murmured.

"A unicorn was attempting to wrest a gun from a human's hands," said Lyle. "Perhaps ill-advised, but in the heat of the moment, I can understand the motivation. For the first few Masses I presided over after ETS, I worried what I might do if someone pulled out a gun as they had at another church in town."

"Forgive me for being short with you, Father, but where exactly is this going?" Tom said in irritation. "If you're going to ask me to forgive them, that's a real hard sell on me right now."

"I know," Lyle said in a soft voice. "I won't mince words. I do hope you will come around to forgive them, and that's more along the lines of the teachings of Christ rather than my own inclinations as a pony. I only wished you to understand that nothing malicious was intended towards you."

"Does that really matter? What they were doing was not even remotely legal."

"I intend to counsel Strong Hooves that he should consider turning himself in to human authorities before they inevitably come after him," said Lyle. "I feel it would be a good gesture on his part."

Tom was happy to hear what had been implied, that the ponies responsible were finally going to face some justice. Perhaps if that had been applied a little more often across the Homestead lands, they would all be better off. He was about to comment on this when another thought came to him. "Father, how did you know I was Catholic?"

Lyle smiled. "Ironic that I come offering to take confession when I have one of my own to give. I spoke to your family earlier as they were on their way out after their visit. It was your wife Theresa who asked that I see you."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "She did?"

"Apparently she was concerned over some of the things you said to her while you were understandably frustrated at this turn of events," said Lyle.

"No offense, Father, but if this is just some spiel about not hating ponies after this, maybe this is not really the time or the place."

"I'm not talking about ponies in general, Tom." said Lyle in a solemn voice. "I'm talking about your family."

Tom gave him a shocked look. "I don't hate them!"

"I didn't say you did."

"Then why did you even mention it?"

Lyle uttered a soft sigh. "Because I've seen too many people in families like yours become alienated from one another, and I don't want to see it happen again."

Tom opened his mouth to retort but realized he had no words for the priest.

"I've seen families tear themselves apart over far smaller things than this," said Lyle. "I thought if I had any hope of ensuring it didn't happen again, I should do something sooner rather than later."

Tom wanted to protest that their family was not breaking up, but that would be a lie. Hadn't they already brought up the subject of divorce? Hadn't Theresa already given an implied ultimatum about heading back to Pony Hope without him if Molly never rehumanized?

The idea of Molly rehumanizing seemed more like a pipe dream than ever before. He doubted Theresa would be inclined to bring Molly back to the Center now, or that Molly had the emotional fortitude to go through another session similar to the first.

"We came here to see if my daughter Molly would rehumanize," Tom said in a flat voice.

Lyle nodded. "Your wife mentioned that to me."

"She didn't like the idea from the start."

"Oh?"

Tom stared at Lyle. Despite his species shift, he reminded Tom so much of a kindly priest he had known in the parish where he had grown up. He remembered going to that priest in tears after several bullies had made fun of him and how the priest had made him feel better without calling on God or scripture. "Father, was I so wrong to want that for her? Even though Theresa objected to it?"

"Not at all, my son," said Lyle. "I made the conscious decision to remain a pony to better serve those of my parish. Receiving my cutie mark only confirmed my decision was the right one. With children, it's much harder to know if they truly understand what they're deciding. Giving her a chance to see both sides is the only fair thing to do."

"I wish you could convince my wife of that."

"My conversation with her on the matter was short, but I believe she does understand. Apparently the session that your family had with the rehumanization counselor affected her more than she cared to admit to you."

Tom's eyebrows rose. Theresa had been oddly noncommittal on what had gone on in that conversation between her and the counselor. He had wondered why she had been somewhat more supportive of him when they had that conversation with Molly before going to see the house.

Lyle smiled. "You and your wife have more in common on this matter than perhaps you realize."

Tom had not wished to give confession, but he felt he had to mention one thing. "Father, Theresa and I floated the idea of divorce."

"That is a bit troubling to hear."

"I know that's against church teaching, but--"

Lyle held up a fore-hoof. "That's not what I meant. However, the fact that you both spoke about it rather than one or the other demanding it gives me hope that you can work things out."

Tom was not all that sure himself, but then again, he already had come to a realization that he was not seeing the forest for the trees. "I'm not sure what I should do."

Lyle considered. "In one of my first sermons after ETS, I suggested that we should reconsider what the term 'humanity' means, that it should be stretched to encompass all sapient beings on this planet. Perhaps we should do the same with the term 'family' as well."

Tom felt as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. Had he not already had the revelation about how he had been treating his daughter as a concept instead of a living being, this new one may not have hit him as hard.

Lyle gave a sage nod. "I can see you've been struggling with that as well. If it helps any, you're not alone."

Tom's voice quavered as he blurted, "I look at my wife and I have trouble seeing the woman I married anymore! I keep seeing her as s-some sort of alien and I shouldn't!"

"And that's something I've heard a lot of as well," said Lyle.

Tom's vision grew watery. "And then I did it again with my daughter. I kept seeing her like she had something wrong with her that needed to be fixed. I couldn't just accept her as she was. What kind of father does that?!"

Lyle stepped over to him and drew himself up on his hind legs. He placed a fore-hoof gently on Tom's hand. "A father who has been thrust into a situation he wouldn't have contemplated in his worst nightmares."

"But that's no--"

"Please, let me finish," said Lyle. "There simply is no precedent. I have had colleagues I knew from seminary who went on to become biblical scholars beat themselves senseless over their failure to find anything in God's word that even remotely suggests how all this fits into His plan. Debate still rages over what it all means."

Tom wiped his eyes. "That doesn't really help my situation, Father."

"I'm merely pointing out that you shouldn't judge yourself so harshly. You are a good man who is doing the best with what he has. That you are so upset over this means you care what happens."

"I j-just want my family back," Tom whimpered.

"I know. But what shape that will take is up to you, your wife, and your daughter. It won't be as it was, even if Molly rehumanizes." Lyle paused. "I had heard that Princess Twilight had once said 'becoming a pony will not solve all your problems.' From what I have seen in the past six months, the same could be said for rehumanization."

Tom's throat was too tight for him to speak, but at this point, all he wanted was some solace, some sense that there was hope.

"ETS destroyed the old world," Lyle said in a somber voice. "We don't want to hear that, let alone admit it. The closest we've ever come to such a radical change was in the wake of World War II, and even then people had more time to adapt. Here, we almost literally had the old world swept away overnight."

Tom's heart ached. He truly had been pining for something he could never have again. He forced his voice to work, though it came out as something of a croak, "How do I work with this new world? I don't even know where to start."

Lyle smiled. "You've already taken the first step. You've admitted that the past is not going to come back."

Tom let out a ragged sigh, and only then realized he had a tightness in his chest that was finally starting to loosen. "Clinging to the past is so much easier," he admitted in a low voice.

"It always is. It's why the world is so slow to adapt to the new reality. We have to first accept that the past is over and done."

"But doesn't casting off the past mean casting off my family as well?" Tom asked.

"No," said Lyle firmly. "It means you're casting off your old ideas of what a family means to you. You have to make new ideas now."

"Where do I start?"

"With the very ones who were your family and who can be so again."

Tom remained silent, lost in thought.

"Talk to your wife," Lyle urged. "Talk to your daughter. Be absolutely honest with your feelings."

"That could hurt them," Tom murmured.

"Then let it hurt."

Tom's gaze snapped to those of the pony priest. "What?"

"We all hear about the families who make the news," Lyle said. "The ones where members lash out at each other violently. What we don't hear about are the opposite, where people keep their feelings bottled up and then agonize over what went wrong when the family breaks up later. Those feelings always come out, no matter how hard you try to mask them."

Conversations with Theresa echoed in his head, where she had guessed what he was feeling despite his trying to hide it, and his compounding the failure by denying he ever felt that way in the first place. She had to know he had been lying just to protect her feelings, but that likely made it hurt no less.

"I could just wind up pushing them away further," Tom murmured.

"I can't predict what will happen if you're honest with them about your feelings," said Lyle. "But I can predict what will ultimately happen if you're not."

Tom took a deep breath, letting it go as a rattling sigh as his eyes threatened to tear up again. "I'll try, Father. It's not going to be easy."

Lyle lowered himself to the floor with a gentle clop. "It never is. If it helps any, just my short conversation with your wife and child gave me a sense of hope. They want you to reach out to them, Tom. They want to do more for you but don't know how."

Tom had gained more insight into the thoughts of his family in this short conversation with a priest he had never seen before than in all the conversations he had ever had with them. He wanted to berate himself for that, but that would just prolong the agony. He had to stop blaming himself and move on.

"Thank you, Father," Tom said in a soft voice. "Thank you for talking to me."

Lyle smiled. "I was glad to have been of some help." He looked over to the table and took the pen and pad of paper in his magic. "Let me write down my cell phone number. If you ever need to talk again, please feel free to leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can."

Tom managed a small smile. "Thank you."

Lyle finished writing down the number and set pad and pen aside. "I will echo what your wife has told me. You are a good and kind man. I doubt anything will change that."

Tom's smile widened.

"May the peace of Christ be with you, my son."

"You, too, Father."

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