SAPR

by Scipio Smith

The Wrong Chair, Part Two (New)

The Wrong Chair, Part Two

“Comm check,” Rainbow said, tapping her earpiece as she spoke. “Everyone, report in.”

“This is Neon, there’s nothing to see here,” Neon answered from down below. “The museum has just shut its doors.”

“Keep patrolling around the outside; shout if you see anything suspicious,” Rainbow instructed.

“Aye aye, captain,” Neon replied.

“This is Blake; they’re putting the garbage out here at the back entrance,” Blake said. “I don’t think there’s anything suspicious about that.”

“I don’t know,” Neon said. “The prices they charge in the museum café are a little suspicious if you ask me.”

Rainbow snorted. “Focus, everyone,” she instructed.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t say ‘focus’ like we didn’t all hear you just then, Dashie,” said Neon.

“I can think it was funny and inappropriate at the same time,” Rainbow said. “Twilight, how are things at your end?”

“I’m monitoring Mantle’s security cameras for any sign of the suspect,” Twilight said. “So far, no luck.”

“And I am inside the museum’s own security system,” Midnight chimed in. “I will inform you if there are any system failures — provided those failures don’t take me out too.”

“Don’t joke about stuff like that, Midnight,” Twilight said.

“Why not?” Midnight asked. “Would you miss me if I wasn’t here?”

“Of course,” Twilight said. “Where else would I get my sarcastic commentary from?”

“I hardly know whether to be amused or affronted,” Midnight declared.

“You’re a really big help, Midnight,” Twilight said. “And I mean that sincerely. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Twilight Sparkle,” Midnight said. “I think that you are my new favourite.”

Rainbow frowned. “Wasn’t Twilight always your favourite?”

“I told you that you used to be my favourite, Rainbow Dash.”

“Yeah, but I always knew that was a lie,” Rainbow said. “I thought Twilight was your favourite for sure.”

“And what would make you think that?” Midnight asked.

“Because…” Because she is you. “Okay then, who was it really?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Midnight?” Rainbow asked.

“A lady does not tell,” Midnight said.

“What?”

“Focus, Dashie,” Neon said, a touch of amusement entering her voice.

“Okay, fine, I deserve that,” Rainbow huffed. “Ciel, Penny, can you see anything from where you are?”

“We can see a lot,” Penny said. “We can see the whole main street and lots of side alleys and all the people and—”

“However, we cannot yet see anything relevant to our intentions here,” Ciel interrupted. “Unfortunately.”

“Give it time,” Rainbow told her. “The museum only just closed, remember; he’s not going to try anything while they’re still shutting up shop; most of the staff won’t have left yet; they’ll still be … taking the garbage out, like Blake said, sweeping the floor, that kind of thing.”

“Then why are we here?” Neon asked.

“Because if we wait until the time when a thief is likely to show up, then he might see us setting up,” Rainbow explained, again. “We need to be in position before he gets here. Speaking of which,” she tapped the side of her goggles, increasing the magnification to times four, turning in place as she swept her eyes across all of Mantle that she could see from her lofty perch on top of the museum.

The Museum of Mantle was one of the oldest buildings in the whole of Mantle; it had once been the royal palace, back when Mantle had been the capital of the kingdom instead of a has-been also ran, and parts of it had been burnt down in the revolution that followed right after the end of the war, when the Commune tried to take over the city. More of it had been wrecked when the army suppressed the Commune, but what was left had eventually been turned into a museum.

Rainbow thought that was kind of cool, but at the same time kind of odd. Like, it was really pretty cool, when you thought about it, that the actual building itself had as much history as the things that were stored inside of it, but at the same time … well, it was kind of odd when you thought about what kind of history it was. Madness, death, executions … and now, old vases.

And old jewellery too, of course, Rainbow thought. She wondered briefly what the old residents of the palace would have thought of that, the king who had tried to abolish self expression and the communards who had wanted to abolish property.

They’d all be turning in their graves.

Regardless … yes, regardless of what they would have thought about the kind of things that were now being stored beneath what had been, for a little bit at least, their roof, the Museum of Mantle was a tall edifice of white marble, and unlike a lot of places in Mantle, it was kept reasonably clean, although the amount of maintenance need to keep the marble from fading from white to a dull grey had proven beyond it. It was almost tower-like, at least what remained of the old building was, rising to a high pinnacle, a brass spire reaching up towards the sky. It was beneath the spire that Rainbow stood at the moment, high above the rest of the city, looking down upon the rest of Mantle from her high perch, like an eagle nesting at the top of a particularly tall tree, ready to swoop down the moment she saw a particularly appetising field mouse.

Or a chicken.

Rainbow’s plan was pretty straightforward, having divided assignments amongst the group based on their skill and abilities — Neon and Blake on the perimeter; Ciel and Penny keeping watching from a different and more accessible vantage point, a roof overlooking the main road to the museum; Twilight watching the city’s security cameras from inside The Bus; Midnight inside the security systems of the museum itself; Rainbow up here on the highest pinnacle — they were going to wait for their quarry to make an appearance and then nab him.

Admittedly, they didn’t know he was going to show up tonight, but then, they didn’t know that he wasn’t going to show up tonight either. They didn’t know when he was going to strike.

They couldn’t even say for definite that he was going to strike here at all, although it seemed a pretty good bet that he would, because there was no more tempting target than this in the whole of Mantle.

If he didn’t show up tonight … then they would have to come back tomorrow, and the night after that, and the night after that until Feathers Markinson showed himself … or it became undeniable that he wasn’t going to.

If that happened … if that happened, then Rainbow Dash would get the money herself, never mind Ciel’s parents and their working class pride. It was all very well for Sunset to talk about how ‘pride is the one thing that nobody can take away from you,’ and maybe it was, but you couldn’t eat it, you couldn’t take it to the bank, you couldn’t exchange it for life-saving medicine.

Rainbow had meant what she’d said in the diner: if Scootaloo had been dying, then there was nothing that she wouldn’t have done, no humiliation she wouldn’t have put herself through, in order to get her the help she needed. The alternative was … unthinkable.

Rainbow hadn’t known that Ciel’s brother was sick. She’d known that Ciel had six brothers, but she hadn’t known that one of them was fatally ill. It seemed like Ciel had wanted to keep it private, but that was no excuse. She ought to have known, even if it meant that she had to go snooping around to find out.

She could make up for it by helping to save him, if not this way, then by whatever means necessary.

For crying out loud, there was enough money in Atlas to pay for this; admittedly it wasn’t something from which Atlas as a whole would benefit … or would it? Who knew what Alain — yes, she knew their names; she just hadn’t known he was ill — would become? Who knew what he would do with his life if he was allowed to have one? He might become almost as great a scientist as Twilight, or compose a song that would inspire generations of Atlesians, or … anything, really. That was the cool thing about being a kid; you could be absolutely anything, provided you were given the opportunity.

And making sure you got those opportunities was the job of those who came before.

So even if Feathers Markinson had taken off from Mantle and high-tailed it to Vale or Mistral or somewhere, Rainbow would get that money for Ciel, even if she had to spend the rest of her life paying back Twilight’s parents and Councillor Cadance and everyone else she’d borrowed from to scrape it together.

But, in the meantime, she was on top of the roof of the museum, her magnified goggles allowing her to see what was going on in the world down below, watching, waiting. Hoping.

“I’ve got movement down here,” Blake said.

Rainbow turned that way, looking down towards the southeast, where the back door of the museum, the one that wasn’t open to the public, the one that lay behind a set of wrought iron gates, was located. Blake was down there, lurking in the shadows, able to see everything that was going on even as darkness fell on Mantle.

“You’re talking about the armoured truck, right?” Rainbow asked as she watched the black van-like vehicle drive up through the streets towards the back gates.

“Right,” Blake confirmed.

“I guess he would need something to put all the stuff he steals, unless he wants to carry it away in a sack,” Rainbow murmured.

“Shall we move in?” Neon asked.

“Penny and I are out of position here; we can’t see anything,” Ciel said. “We’re repositioning now.”

“Negative, not yet,” Rainbow said. “We don’t know that this is Markinson; we don’t know this is a getaway vehicle; we don’t want to move in or reposition, and it turns out to be caramel shortbreads for the café. Blake, what does that van look like to you? I can only see the roof from up here.”

“Hard to say,” Blake replied. “The windows are dark; it’s got a logo on the side. It doesn’t look like a bakery.”

“What does the logo look like?” Twilight asked. “Can you take a picture with your scroll?”

“Maybe,” Blake said. “It’s strange, it’s … grotesque, honestly; it’s a person with eyes all over their body.”

“Hmm,” Twilight said. “I’m sending you an image now; is that what you’re seeing?”

There was a few moments of pause, before Blake said, “Yes, that’s it.”

“It’s not our guy,” Twilight said. “That’s the logo of Argos Panopticon Security; they’re a private firm hired to provide security for the crown jewels by the Mistralian authorities.”

As Twilight spoke, a man in a suit emerged from the back door of the museum, buttoning up his long dark coat as he did so, and walked out towards the gate beyond which the van waited. He waved with one hand, and as he reached the gate, he pressed a button which caused the gate to swing open inwards. The van drove in, parking just outside the back doors as the man in the suit and coat shut the gates after them.

The doors of the van opened, and a half dozen armed men disembarked, all wearing black, with forage caps and what looked from up on the roof like submachine guns held in their hands.

Leaving their vehicle, they followed the man from the museum inside.

“Looks like we’ve got competition,” Rainbow said. “Six men, too uniformly equipped to be huntsmen, I think, but they probably have some training. Midnight, can you see what they’re doing in there?”

“Give me one moment, Rainbow Dash,” Midnight replied. A moment passed, and then another.

“They are moving into the rooms where the Mistralian jewellery and gowns are being exhibited,” Midnight said. “No, wait. Three men are remaining in those rooms, one on the entrance, one on the exit, and one patrolling.”

“And the other three?” Rainbow asked.

“Seem to be patrolling the rest of the museum’s seventh floor,” Midnight said.

“Reasonable,” Rainbow murmured. Half their numbers to stop people from getting close to the exhibits, the other half in case they did.

“What does this mean?” asked Penny.

“It means that we have competition,” Rainbow replied. “If we let these guys catch this thief, then we won’t get the reward for Alain. That said, it doesn’t change our operational plan: they’re inside, we’re out here, so if we all look alive and do our jobs, then we’ll still spot Markinson before they know he was anywhere nearby. So stay sharp, everyone. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

---

Ciel looked at the world through the scope of her rifle.

Ciel hadn’t taken Distant Thunder home with her — unlike in some kingdoms, Atlas operated strict licenses on who could have or carry weapons, and Ciel’s student license did not allow her to carry her weapon in Mantle; she, and everyone else, was breaking the law at present. It was something that she probably ought to have felt more guilty about than she did; perhaps Rainbow’s argument for arming the people of Mantle had affected her more than she thought, or else she simply wanted to accomplish so much, she was prepared to break the law for Alain’s sake — but Rainbow had brought it down from Atlas with her.

And so Ciel lay on her belly upon the roof of a three-storey Strunk and White’s — a bookstore — that sat on the main street leading to the museum. She lay on her belly, her chest resting upon a pillow she had borrowed from home — one of her pillows, lest she be accused of taking one of her brothers’ — and through her scope, she scanned the street beneath her.

It was dark and quiet. The sounds of traffic off in the distance were a mere background hum, and only the sounds of the trains passing by only a moderate distance behind her disturbed the stillness of the air at all. Darkness had fallen ere the museum closed its doors to the public, and they were a few hours past that point by now. Night was well and truly upon them, and while parts of Mantle were doubtless still alive, this part of the city had well and truly died. The road that led to the museum, the road that passed this very large bookshop — and the old-fashioned record shop, and the cafes — was wide, with two lanes for traffic and broad pavements for pedestrians on either side, but all of those were quiet now. There was no one around, except Neon, who could be seen lurking in the shadows if one knew where to look.

Ciel kept looking, never taking her eye away from the scope of her rifle, seeing the world that way — and through the single lens of the multi-purpose sight that she was wearing on a band around her forehead and which fell down to cover her shooting eye.

It had several modes, but right now, Ciel was using the night vision, casting the empty street into shades of green.

It was simple to see the world like this; not green, necessarily, but through the scope of a sniper rifle. It was easier than looking at it in the round.

You didn’t have to worry about what people thought of you when you were viewing them through the scope of a rifle.

Or when you couldn’t see them, because your world had shrunk to what could be perceived through said scope, and had no room for copper-topped androids.

“Ciel?” Penny said.

Of course, just because you couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there, or that they were without other means of getting your attention.

“Yes, Penny?” Ciel responded, her voice soft, barely disturbing the cool air.

“Why don’t you look at me?” Penny asked plaintively. “Why haven’t you said a word all night?”

What would we talk about? You’re leaving. It sounded petty and childish in Ciel’s head, but, well, it was how she felt, and why shouldn’t she be allowed to be petty and childish just this once? Why did she have to be so terribly grown-up all the time? Just because she was the eldest of seven siblings didn’t mean that she had to be the grown-up in every relationship.

Except it … did, didn’t it? At least when it came to Penny, young as she was. And so Ciel said, “I … am endeavouring to concentrate.”

“There’s nothing here,” Penny pointed.

“There may be something,” Ciel said.

“And you’ll see it whether you talk to me or not,” Penny said. “You don’t even have to look away; just say something.”

“What is it you would like me to say, Penny?” Ciel asked.

Penny let out a sort of wordless growl. “This isn’t fair!” she snapped. “You’re acting like I did something wrong!”

“No, I’m not,” Ciel said, but the words sounded feeble even to herself.

“Yes you are,” Penny insisted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be sulking like this.”

“I am not—”

“Then what would you call what you’re doing?” Penny demanded.

Ciel was silent for a moment. In fact, she stayed silent for longer than a moment, making no reply at all to Penny, letting the silence stretch out because … because there were no good answers here. Either she agreed that, yes, she was sulking, or she told Penny that the reason she hadn’t been talking to Penny was that she felt … she felt as though there was nothing to say between them.

She did not take her eyes off the scope, watching the street instead of watching Penny.

“Ciel?” Penny prodded.

“I am surprised you want me to speak to you,” Ciel muttered.

“That isn’t fair,” Penny said.

“Is it not?” Ciel demanded, still not looking away from her scope. “You are the one who made our friendship conditional on me helping you do what you wanted.”

“I want to be free!” Penny cried. “I want to be free to make my own choices, to do what I want instead of what other people have planned for me; if you don’t think I have the right to that, then how dare you call yourself my friend? How dare you?”

Again, Ciel did not reply. Penny’s own response … was difficult to argue with. With the heart … it had felt like blackmail, emotional or otherwise. But with the head … Penny could hardly be said to be wrong, could she? ‘A real friend would help me escape from the chains of slavery.’ Well … yes. Yes, they would. There wasn’t a lot you could say against that. It was difficult to argue that, no, actually, there were friends worth their salt who would refuse to help liberate their so-called friend from bondage, because the law or because of societal expectations or because they believed slavery to be philosophically justified.

‘When God is silent, heed the words of the King,’ the Lady said, in her epistle to the men of Mantle, appropriately enough. ‘But when God speaks through me, let the thunderous sound of His Word drown out the king and all his trumpets.’ What Ciel had always taken that to mean was that the laws of the state held no import when they came into conflict with the laws of her faith. Others, braver and wiser than herself, had seen it thus: in Mantle’s palace, in what was now the museum around which they all kept watch, the last king of Mantle had burned his Warden of the West to death for refusing to renounce her faith.

‘I am the King’s good servant,’ she had said, before they put the torch to her pyre, ‘but I am servant to the Lady first.’ So they had lit the flames, and two hundred men, good men no doubt, according to their lights, had watched her burn alive because the king commanded it so.

Compared to that, what reason had she for allowing Penny’s situation to continue for as long as she had? What did she risk, by helping Penny to escape from circumstances she found intolerable? How could she justify it, to Penny, to the Lady, to God?

“My Lady, I held the whip over a slave because General Ironwood commanded that I should. “

“And how loud does General Ironwood speak, that he roars louder than the thunder of His Word?”

“My Lady, I was unwilling to help a captive escape, because it pleased me to have them near at hand, and I did not wish them to go far.”

“And why was your pleasure more important than their liberty?”

“My Lady, I took her desire for freedom as a slight against me and was petulantly aggrieved.”

“Wherefore are you so proud, that such weighty questions must turn around your feelings?”

I must repent ere I be damned for this.

Distant Thunder trembled a little in her hands. “I … I’m sorry, Penny,” she whispered. “I have been … a poor servant. I have walked so proud and held my head so high and thought myself so very moral, and yet, I have forgot what are amongst the most fundamental teachings of our faith.”

She paused, and as she paused a ragged sigh escaped her lips. “‘For there is no slave in the House of God, and in His sight, all men are equal. Therefore I charge you see to it that as you are equal in the next life, so be you equal in this: keep no man in chains, deny none their liberty, let all be free to seek His Word.’ Words I should have heeded.”

“You didn’t think of it that way,” Penny said.

“Do not make excuses for me, Penny; it is unseemly that they should come from you, to whom I have…” Ciel trailed off for a moment. “I should be begging forgiveness of you, not lying here in petulant silence.”

There was a pause for a moment. “So you were sulking,” Penny said, with just a hint of a triumphant note.

The corner of Ciel’s lip twitched upwards into a smile. “Yes,” she admitted. “Amongst other things. Penny?”

“Yes, Ciel?”

“Why are you here?” Ciel asked. “In Mantle, I mean? Why did you come? The Lady knows you have little cause to help me.”

“Don’t I?” Penny asked.

Ciel briefly looked away from her scope and the little world that it encompassed to look at Penny. She was … she was astonished by the look of disbelief on Penny’s face; her question had not been spoken sarcastically; there was nought in her face but confusion.

“You are … we are … I do not deserve your friendship,” Ciel said, ever so softly, like a breath of mist upon a pane of glass.

“You thought you were doing the right thing,” Penny murmured.

“It is true that I, not seeing Atlesian service as a burden, did not see how it might seem burdensome to you, but that is no excuse,” Ciel said. “Right … moral right does not care how I see things, what I thought I was doing; it does not depend upon majority vote or orders from above — unless by 'above,' one means the powers of Heaven. Right is … right, as the Lady lays down for us. And yet, Rainbow Dash, godless as she is, has done more for you than I who call myself faithful.” She looked away, back into the scope of Distant Thunder. “I will be humble after and seek for grace. I should have taken you away from Atlas as soon as I could.”

“And go where?” Penny said.

“To Beacon, as you wish.”

“I didn’t know that I wanted to stay there then.”

“And yet you fled,” Ciel pointed out. “I should have thought what it meant when we set out to bring you back. I should have realized that it made me a slave catcher.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Penny urged. “I don’t blame you. That’s not what this is about. What’s past is … it’s past. It’s over with. It’s all done now. This last year has been … wonderful. The friends I’ve made … I wouldn’t risk that by changing anything, even if it meant that I was free earlier. If being free meant that I didn’t meet Ruby or Pyrrha or Sunset, then … then I’m glad you came to get me. Although, yes, I’m also glad that Rainbow is team leader instead of you, because you would have taken me back to Atlas, wouldn’t you?”

“Guilty,” Ciel muttered.

“You didn’t think of it … you didn’t think of me … I understand,” Penny said. “Just like I understand that there are a lot of practical issues with me not being part of Atlas anymore. Maybe I won’t be able to be maintained, maybe I’ll break, piece by piece, until nothing works.”

“You should not speak so glibly about—”

“But everyone dies, don’t they?” Penny asked. “Ruby is going to die, and Pyrrha and Sunset; you, Rainbow Dash, General Ironwood. I don’t think I’d want to live forever, getting all of my parts replaced over and over again, living on when everybody else is gone.”

“I am sure that you would have no trouble making new friends,” Ciel pointed out.

“But what if I don’t want to?” Penny asked. “What if I’d rather…”

“Die?” Ciel asked.

“Death … could be a grand adventure, don’t you think?” Penny asked. “The point is that … I don’t want you to feel bad about what you’ve done; I just … I just want you to understand why I’m doing this, why I want … what I want. I want you to understand why I … why I don’t love you, the way you’d like me to.”

“In your position, I would not love me either,” Ciel admitted. “And yet … and yet, I think that you must love me more than I deserve or—”

“Sunset says that love has nothing to do with what we deserve,” Penny said.

“Does she?”

“Yes,” Penny replied. “She says it to Jaune.”

“However she intends it, that cannot help but sound harsh,” Ciel remarked. “For all of Pyrrha’s fine qualities, Jaune is … a fine young man, possessed of many excellent qualities of his own, for all that he lacks skill.”

Penny was quiet for a moment. “Do you like Jaune?”

“Certainly not, and I should certainly not admit it if I did, involved as he is,” Ciel said sharply. “But he is a gentleman, and one cannot help but admire that in this day and age. He hardly…” She chuckled. “He hardly deserves to be told that he does not deserve Pyrrha, as Sunset’s statement implies. And yet … and yet, it is a comforting thought, in general, I must confess.”

Once more, she paused briefly. “Thank you, Penny.”

“For what?”

“For coming,” Ciel said. “In spite of everything. I am … I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here, too,” Penny said. “I meant what I said in the diner; if you need help … just because I can’t be the little sister you wanted me to be doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends, even friends who live in different kingdoms. I could call you.”

Ciel closed her eyes for a moment. “I … I would like that, Penny,” she said softly. “I would like that very much.”

---

“Rainbow Dash, I’ve got something on the cameras.”

“Which direction? Is it our guy?” Rainbow asked.

“No,” Twilight replied. “It’s … Doctor Polendina.”

“Dad?” Penny asked.

“Which Doctor Polendina, Twi?” asked Rainbow.

“Pietro.”

“Right, that’s obvious,” Rainbow muttered. What would the other Doctor Polendina be doing in a place like this?

Well, he might be coming to skin me alive for bringing Penny to Mantle, but other than that…

“What about Dad?” Penny demanded. “Is he okay?”

“He seems to be,” Twilight said cautiously. “He’s … on his chair.”

“You mean like sitting down on the street?” Neon said.

“It’s a walking chair,” Twilight explained. “It has legs, and a semi-autonomous guidance system connected to the CCT that means that, for longer journeys, Doctor Polendina doesn’t need to drive the chair himself but can simply program in his destination, and the chair will convey him by the swiftest route.”

“Fancy,” Neon said.

“You know a lot about it,” Blake observed. “Did you help with the programming, by any chance?”

“I was able to do my part, yes.”

“That’s great,” Rainbow said, “but … I suppose it is kind of strange that a man his age is out and about at this time of night, but it’s not like there’s a curfew. So—”

“It’s strange that Doctor Polendina is on his way to the museum,” Twilight said.

“What?” Rainbow said. “Here? Are you sure about that?”

“I’m positive,” Twilight replied. “I’ve been monitoring Doctor Polendina for some time as he passes from camera to camera, but I didn’t say anything until I was sure that he was headed in your direction. It’s weird, right?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow murmured. It was weird, if only because everything around here was closed at this time of night. “Where’s he coming from?”

“The direction he’s approaching from will bring him down Thermidor.”

Thermidor Road was the main road that approached the museum from the front. Rainbow was already facing that direction, so she tapped the side of her goggles once to increase the magnification yet further, casting her gaze out across Mantle in the hopes of spotting the good doctor before he actually turned onto the road itself.

Even at high magnifications, she wasn’t getting a brilliant view, but she thought that she could see him — a man in a personalized robot chair was pretty distinctive. It was like Twilight said; he was heading their way.

Although he hadn’t actually reached Thermidor yet, it was possible that he was just out for a stroll, in a manner of speaking. After all, just because he couldn’t walk or run long distances didn’t mean that he had to confine himself to his clinic, never seeing the sights or feeling the air on his face. What was the point of having a robot chair to carry you around if you let yourself become a prisoner in your own home anyway? Maybe he wanted to go out at night because there was no one else around to get in his way or make remarks about his chair, or just because he liked to look up at the moon. It was a free kingdom, after all.

But at the same time … something about this … the fact that he was on his way here, in their direction. It didn’t feel right.

Rainbow considered having Penny run down and intercept her Dad; he’d love to see her, and if he really was on an innocent and unassuming walk, then they could go together.

And if there was anything shady going on, then Penny would be in the middle of it.

“Twilight, is Doctor Polendina alone?”

“I … think so?” Twilight replied.

“You think so?” Rainbow repeated. “Is there anyone else there, or isn’t there?”

“I can’t see anyone else,” Twilight said, “but … I don’t know; I sometimes think there’s movement in the shadows, but it’s too dark for me to make out.”

“Don’t these cameras have any night modes?” Rainbow demanded.

“No.”

“That’s a lot of good at night, isn’t it?” Rainbow grumbled.

“There is something else,” Twilight said. “Something strange.”

“Go on.”

“Doctor Polendina has his Handy Hands attached to his chair.”

There was a moment of silence.

“His … Handy Hands?” Blake asked.

“They’re a pair of robotic hands fitted onto a unit that can be attached or detached from the back of Doctor Polendina’s chair or worn like a backpack,” Twilight explained. “They have a long reach, so they can be used to get jars off the top shelves or reach into distant nooks and crannies. They’re very useful, but why would he be wearing them outside?”

“Maybe he forgot to take them off after he put the cookie jar back?” Neon suggested.

Rainbow frowned. “Midnight, what’s the situation inside?”

“Unchanged,” Midnight replied. “Everything seems normal, and the mercenaries from Argos Panopticon are continuing their patrols.”

“Okay, thanks,” Rainbow said softly. “Neon, Blake, keep an eye out; don’t get distracted. Twilight, don’t focus too much on Doctor Polendina; we still need to be looking out for Markinson.”

“What about Dad?” Penny asked.

“We’ll keep an eye on him, Penny,” Rainbow assured her. “In fact, I’ve got both eyes on him right now.”

Doctor Polendina moved inexorably in their direction, carried by his chair step by step towards the museum. As he got closer, Rainbow could see him in more detail; she could see what must be the Handy Hands, actually a pair of claws — three claws on each ‘hand’ — attached to what looked like a canister fitted to the back of Doctor Polendina’s chair.

As he got closer, Rainbow could also see that Doctor Polendina had his eyes closed, and he was slumped forward a little in his chair.

“Twilight,” Rainbow said, “does Doctor Polendina look asleep to you?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “Yes, he does. He must have programmed his chair to take him … to where you are, and then fallen asleep.”

“Hmm,” Rainbow murmured, beginning to doubt that Doctor Polendina had programmed his chair to take him anywhere, because not only was he asleep, but he was also wearing his pyjamas: a string vest and a pair of white boxer shorts with big red dots on them. Which, first of all, the fact that he was walking around in his PJs, and second of all, it wasn’t exactly warm out here at night; it probably wasn’t healthy for an old man to have so little on.

Rainbow could believe that he wanted to go out for a walk; she could believe that he might programme his chair to take him for a walk and then fall asleep — it was late, after all. She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that he would go out dressed for bed without putting so much as a coat on first.

And he was definitely coming this way. In fact, he had turned onto Thermidor Road already and was advancing straight towards the museum.

“What do we do, Dashie?” asked Neon.

“Penny, get down there, wake your Dad up, and take him—” Rainbow stopped.

She stopped because Doctor Polendina had stopped, about halfway down the road, halfway to the museum. He was on the actual road part of the road and would have been at risk from the traffic if there had been any traffic to speak of. He was standing there, or rather, his chair was standing there, while Doctor Polendina continued to slump and slumber in his seat.

“Everyone hold,” Rainbow ordered. Perhaps this was the destination, and the chair would soon turn around to take him home.

It did not move.

“Movement,” Ciel hissed. “Someone approaching … target sighted!”

“Confirmed,” Rainbow said, because she saw him too: Feathers Markinson, instantly recognizable with that chicken crest on his head; the beady black eyes on the picture were not as visible when you were looking in night vision, but all the same, it was definitely him. There was something familiar about him, and not from his wanted poster either. Rainbow couldn’t work out what it was.

It didn’t matter. He was there, and he was starting to walk towards Doctor Polendina. At this point, it didn’t matter why Doctor Polendina was there; if they let him get to him, then he could take the doctor hostage or he could just get hurt.

They needed to stop him now.

“Neon, grab him now!” Rainbow snapped.

“Copy that,” Neon said.

There was a rainbow blur, a streak of spectral light that lit up the darkness, a brilliant white that cut through Rainbow’s night vision, as Neon closed the distance to the target faster than a speeding bullet.

With one fist, she hit Feathers across the jaw, knocking him to the ground and his crest right off his head. It landed on the road beside him, revealing—

Rainbow’s eyes widened. “It’s the penguin?!”

“What?” Blake demanded. “'Penguin'? What’s going on?”

“Markinson, he’s not a chicken faunus at all,” Rainbow said. “He’s a penguin faunus wearing a fake chicken crest. He’s also Doctor Polendina’s lodger; that’s where I recognized him from.”

“Huh,” Neon muttered as she rolled Feathers over and pinned both his arms behind him. “Clever. A lot of people don’t look beyond faunus traits.”

“They do,” Rainbow said. “It’s just that they’re kind of a big deal, so … never mind. Ciel, call the police; Penny, go—”

Neon squawked in alarm as one of Doctor Polendina’s Handy Hands rotated to face behind the doctor and his chair, shot out and grabbed Neon by the throat, yanking her backwards and up into the air before slamming her down, head first, into the road.

Feathers, his captor lifted from off his back, sprang to his feet and started to run.

“I have a shot,” Ciel said dispassionately.

“Don’t shoot him; if you do that, you’ll be getting a murder charge instead of a reward,” Rainbow said. She leapt off the roof of the museum, her Wings of Harmony unfurling out of her backpack to spread out on either side of her, catching the Mantle air as she fell with style towards the streets below. “Neon, are you okay?”

Neon groaned wordlessly as the Handy Hand picked her up and slammed her down into the road a second time, even as Doctor Polendina’s chair began to walk towards her. “Am I allowed to break this thing?”

“No, Doctor Polendina still needs it for the tall shelves,” Rainbow replied. “Midnight, can you lock the museum down?”

“Is three the first digit of pi?” Midnight replied. “Yes, yes it is.”

“Great,” Rainbow said. That would stop the mercenaries from getting out and interfering. “Once you’ve done that, I think that Doctor Polendina’s chair has been hacked, so I need you to get in there and … counterhack it.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

“Just fix the chair,” Rainbow said. “Blake, come around the front; there’s no point in you hanging around the back anymore.”

“Understood,” Blake said. “I’m on my way.”

"Neon, I'm going to need you to tough it out for a little bit, okay?" Rainbow said.

"Sure," Neon groaned, as she was dragged across the tarmac towards Doctor Polendina's chair. Said chair stepped forward, planting a leg upon Neon's stomach, pinning her to the ground. "I'm doing awesome here."

"Ciel, keep him in sight; Penny, stay where you are for now," Rainbow ordered.

"Why?" Penny demanded. "I can get him."

"You should be there for your dad, Penny," Rainbow said. Also, I'm almost certain that Markinson hacked his chair, and I don't want to put you up against someone like that. She didn't actually know if it was possible to hack Penny, but since Penny's systems could be overridden — she'd seen Twilight do it, if only with Penny's consent — she couldn't say that it was impossible. And she'd hate to find out for sure because Penny actually got hacked by some low-life jewel thief.

She would have told Penny all of that, except that Neon didn't know that she was a robot, and it wasn't a great time to fill her in.

Rainbow levelled out, the jetpack of the Wings of Harmony firing as she ceased to fall and began to fly instead, soaring above Thermidor Road. Feathers Markinson was below her, running down said road. He was like a mouse, and she was the owl on the prowl.

Nevertheless, because she didn't want to find herself being grabbed by the ankle by the other one of Doctor Polendina's Handy Hands just as she was about to grab their quarry, Rainbow didn't immediately swoop down upon him. Rather she let him run, putting distance between himself and Doctor Polendina — putting too much distance for the Handy Hand to help him now.

Feathers looked up and behind him; Rainbow didn't know if penguins had good night vision or not, but he seemed to be able to spot Rainbow Dash, because he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol.

BANG!

The roar of Distant Thunder shattered the night, temporarily blotting out the sounds of the trains rattling by. The gun in Feathers' hand disappeared, although the word didn't do justice to how much it seemed to hurt Feathers himself, who stumbled, clutching at his hand, although he didn't yell or cry or make any sound of pain.

Nor did it slow him down for long; he picked himself up again quickly and resumed his attempted escape.

"Nice shot, Ciel."

"One tries one's best," Ciel murmured.

Rainbow swooped down upon her prey; there was no way that he could get away from her on foot.

A transit van screeched out of the night; it was white, unmarked, and most bizarrely of all, there was no driver in the cab, and yet, it burst into view, back doors open, beating at the sides of the van as they flapped backwards and forwards. The van slowed at the entrance into Thermidor Road; it didn't stop, but it did slow down; it slowed down enough for Feathers to throw himself into the back of the van — which looked otherwise empty from what glimpse Rainbow could catch of it — before the doors slammed shut behind him.

Rainbow landed on the roof of the van just as it accelerated away, leaving the museum behind and heading in the direction of the railway line.

"Twi," she said, "I need you to send Blake directions to the nearest level crossing; Blake, get there, and if necessary, I'll meet you there."

"I am inside Doctor Polendina's assistive devices," Midnight declared. "However, there is no sign of any virus present."

Makes sense. "Thanks, Midnight. Penny, wake your dad up, walk him home, make him some hot cocoa, and put him to bed. Ciel, go with her."

"But I—"

"I've got this, and I've got Blake to back me up if need be," Rainbow said. "Neon, do you think you can catch up with a speeding van?"

"I'm a cat, not a dog, Dashie," Neon grumbled. "But I'll give it a try."

"Thanks," Rainbow said.

Not that I'll need the help, if I can end this now.

She knelt on the roof of the speeding van, clinging to it with one hand. Her other hand, she balled into a fist, and without even needing to focus her aura — still less to use an aura boom of any size — she punched a hole through the flimsy metal. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the hole she had made and began to peel away the metal of the roof, like peeling away the tin foil around a roast bird.

The van swerved sharply, veering hard to the right, and Rainbow lost her grip on the tear in the roof as she needed both hands to keep from being thrown clear across the road into the buildings beyond. She clung on, her knuckles turning white, and she did not let go.

The hard right turn became an equally hard swerve to the left, and this time, Rainbow found herself holding onto entirely the wrong side of the roof.

Rainbow curled into a ball as she was thrown clear, but she felt the impact nonetheless, her aura dropping as she bounced and rolled across the tarmac. She rolled upright and onto her feet in time to see Feathers' van speeding away, heading towards the railway line once more.

Rainbow gave chase, a rainbow trail bursting out behind her, illuminating the streets of Mantle as she pounded down them in pursuit of the van. Once she had closed some of the distance, Rainbow switched to the Wings of Harmony once more, choosing to burn dust instead of her aura as she flew low level — very low level; her feet were barely off the ground — behind the fleeing van. It was a little slower than running, but she wouldn't run out of aura this way, and she wasn't worried about the van with Feathers in it getting away.

She had a pretty good idea where he was going.

Feathers didn't seem much interested in throwing her off course. He made a few swerves, turned an unexpected direction a couple of times, and once or twice, Rainbow had to fly up to get vantage enough to spot him again, but he always went back to the same way that he'd been going before: towards the railway line.

They were almost at the crossing now; the barriers were down at the point where the road met the rails, and there was a train approaching: a big, automated SDC freight train heading north towards Atlas, carrying a cargo of dust for the big elevators up to the city in the clouds.

There was no sign of Blake, which was unfortunate.

As the van approached, screeching up to the barrier, the train which had been thundering down the line, pounding at the rails, seemed to Rainbow Dash to slow down just a little bit.

The van reached the barrier, and as it did so, it spun to a halt, tyres screeching, leaving black marks upon the road; the rear doors flew open, and Feathers leapt out, ducking beneath the barrier and throwing himself at the oncoming train, grabbing the metal ladder and pulling himself up onto one of the rear cargo cars, disappearing inside.

Rainbow landed upon the roof of the caboose, folding her wings up behind her.

"What took you so long?" Blake asked.

---

Blake allowed herself a degree of amusement at the look of surprise on Rainbow's face.

"Blake?" she said. "How did you—?"

"Instead of directing me to the crossing, Twilight led me to the closest point on the railway line, and I boarded the train there," Blake explained. She smiled. "I do have some experience with this kind of thing."

"Yeah," Rainbow muttered. She paused for a moment. "You know, sooner or later, we always seem to end up on a train, don't we?"

"Perhaps it's a sign we should take up trainspotting?"

Rainbow snorted.

There was a jolt, and the rail car they were on began to slow down — as the rest of the train began to move away from it.

"Gotta move," Rainbow said, and she and Blake leapt the growing distance onto the next car, leaving the rearmost car on the train behind them, gradually slowing to a halt upon the rails.

"Twilight," Rainbow said, "inform the authorities there's a stranded railway carriage stuck on the line, someone should clear that up before there's an accident."

"Understood; I'll let Rail Traffic Control know."

To Blake, Rainbow said, "I'm pretty sure that this guy has a hacking semblance. That's how he took control of Doctor Polendina's chair and got his getaway van to move without a driver and detached the last car of this train."

That will be why you kept Penny far away, I suppose, Blake thought. She'd attributed it simply to Rainbow's protectiveness, but it turned out there was a sound reason behind it. Blake wouldn't want to take on a hacked Penny in a fight, nor would she wish that kind of violation upon the other girl.

Of course, Rainbow's assumption also raised the question of train security. Blake drew Gambol Shroud. "So what you're saying is that we might have to do this the hard way?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Rainbow said, as she drew Blunt Honesty and Plain Awesome from their holsters at her hips. "But … yeah, pretty much."

Blake's lips twitched upwards. Well, it won't be the first time. With a single swing of Gambol Shroud, she sliced open the lock that secured the rooftop hatch, then bent down to open it up.

Rainbow went first, dropping down into the railway car, with Blake following.

The hatch banged shut after her, enclosing them both in darkness.

A darkness in which Blake for one could see the Atlesian AK-130s lining the walls.

"Haven't you replaced all of these with the new models yet?" Blake asked.

"It's an unmanned train running between Atlas and Mantle; these units will be the last ones to be replaced," Rainbow replied. "Besides, it hasn't even been a year since the 200 rolled out; give it time."

The faces of the AK-130s began to glow a bloody red, illuminating the robots and the car; the light died down a little as, one by one, the visors on the androids slammed down, leaving only a crimson slit burning like fire.

The androids stepped down off their docks, moving to surround Blake and Rainbow Dash.

"Intruder, identify yourself," came the demand in that tinny, robotic voice.

"Get down!" Rainbow snapped, and Blake ducked as Rainbow began to fire, spraying rounds in all directions from her machine pistols, turning in place to sweep her weapons across the androids.

Some went down, riddled with bullets; others, though damaged and pockmarked by the fire, transformed their arms into three-barrelled rotary machine guns and took aim.

Blake sprang at them like a tiger, Gambol Shroud in one hand and her cleaver-scabbard in the other, cleaving one android into three with a succession of rapid slashes, then cutting another in two down the middle with a downward stroke.

One android, its arms transformed into blades, lunged at Rainbow Dash, who grabbed one arm, wrenched it off the AK-130, then used the arm blade to stab it through the face.

The androids rushed at them with blades or stood off and fired at them with guns, but it didn't really matter; Blake and Rainbow destroyed them all just the same: shooting them, cutting them to pieces, beating them into submission with their bare hands, that last being more Rainbow Dash than Blake, for obvious reasons.

It was funny; their fighting styles didn't really match up — Rainbow, for all the speed of her semblance, had a stolid quality about her fighting; she preferred to meet force with force rather than using any finesse — and Blake couldn't say that they were in sync the way that she and Adam had been; she couldn't predict exactly what Rainbow was going to do next, nor could Rainbow predict what she could do in such a way they found themselves combining attacks without needing to be instructed. But despite that, they found themselves falling into a routine as they cleared out each train car or each flatbed in turn: Rainbow would take the lead, guns blazing, battering down the first wave of the android opposition to them until she ran out of ammunition and had to reload; when that happened, Blake would take over, leaping ahead to cut a swathe through the ranks of the outdated androids, firing until she got too close, then switching Gambol Shroud back to sword mode to cleave her way forward; Rainbow followed her at that point, mopping up any androids that she had left behind in her headlong rush.

It was not difficult; in fact, it was so not difficult that Blake had time to realise just how … how comfortable she felt, doing this, with Rainbow Dash.

With her new partner.

They fought their way forwards through the train, with no sign of Feathers Markinson even when they came to the last car; from here, Blake thought, it would be nothing but flatbeds until they reached the engine itself.

This last car was empty.

Except, as Blake already knew, that meant that it was not.

Blake looked up, snapping off two shots from Gambol Shroud as the spider droid dropped down from the ceiling, landing heavily upon its four claw-like legs, unfolding itself to its full, large height.

"I'll buy you some time!" Blake cried.

"Buy me some time for what?" Rainbow demanded as she leapt past Blake, one fist drawn.

Oh. Yeah. Right.

Rainbow roared wordlessly as she punched the spider droid square in its face; there was a thunderous crack, a shockwave that brushed over Blake's face and sent her hair flying in all directions, and the spider droid shattered into fragments that clattered to the floor of the train car.

"Impressive," Blake said as Rainbow landed. "How's your aura?"

"Low," Rainbow admitted. "But I'll be okay. Come on, he doesn't have much further to run at this point."

They burst out of the train carriage. Feathers Markinson stood on the edge of the next car, a flatbed half-loaded with SDC crates.

The coupling between their two cars detached, and the part of the train that Blake and Rainbow Dash were on began to slow down as the last remaining part of the train, still attached to the engine, began to pull away.

Feathers watched them both dispassionately, his face, his little black eyes, without expression.

"Rainbow!" Blake cried. "Give me a boost!"

"You got it," Rainbow said, making a cradle with her hands.

Blake put one foot into the impromptu stirrup Rainbow had made. Rainbow threw her up and across, and as she gave Blake a push, she concentrated all the aura that she had left into her hands to propel Blake upwards and forwards, strengthening Blake's leap to carry her across the burgeoning gap, over Feathers' head, and land on the flat car behind him.

Blake didn't know if there was anything left on this part of the train for him to hack, but she wasn't going to take any chances; with one hand, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, hauling him backwards away from the gap; with the other hand, she hit him hard enough to knock him out with a single punch.

As he hit the ground, Blake tapped her earpiece. "Target is secure, awaiting pickup. Ciel? It's going to be okay. We got him."

Author's Note:

This will be the last chapter for a month, as I'm taking a break from this story to do NaNoWriMo for the first time in several years. The story will resume on Friday the 2nd December

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

Considering how powerful a semblance 'Feathers' has, if he had been anything other then just a jewel thief... well, people would properly be dead. I mean seriously, how much better equipped and prepared would the White Fang under Adam have been with this guy working with them?

[ChaosDX1]

You clever author. You set up this reference several chapters ago and I never saw it coming!

A mute penguin sharing a flat with an inventor. It is so obvious in hindsight!

[Mastermind4892]

I hate to hear you’ll be gone from my favorite story for a whole month, but I appreciate that you’re looking to another one of your works. Best of luck, and enjoy!

I already felt like this was like Wallace and Gromit with the genius’ robot limbs being hijacked to commit jewel robberies. And then the culprit is a penguin! I love it!

I also love Ciel’s self-reflection through the Lady and looking hard at her own pride and self-righteousness. She gets that from her mother. I hope Ciel will bring this to bear when it comes to getting her mother to actually accept the money, instead of putting her pride and self-righteousness before her son’s health and future.

Happy Nightmare Night everyone!

[RedDog5207]

I was grinning like a loon when I noticed the Wallace and Gromit reference.

[Zer0prototype]

I was so happy to see the wrong trousers reference. When the wanted poster was of a rooster I knew it was a reference but when you described them seeing the walking chair it all fit together beautifully. Good foreshadowing. I thought he was just a downtrodden faunus to show that Dr. Palindina was really struggling to make ends meet. Not to set up the trousers.

Well done!

[Boltstrike58]

I was gonna ask if anyone else got the Wallace and Gromit reference, but it looks like others beat me to it. Good job, internet.

[Mindscape]

“It’s a walking chair,” Twilight explained. “It has legs, and a semi-autonomous guidance system connected to the CCT that means that, for longer journeys, Doctor Polendina doesn’t need to drive the chair himself but can simply program in his destination, and the chair will convey him by the swiftest route.”

My thought process at this moment:
Huh, what's he doing here... wait a minute, what was this chapter called again?!
OMG, they're waiting for a CHICKEN faunas!!!
I swear, if it turns out Dr Polendina is asleep...

“Twilight,” Rainbow said, “does Doctor Polendina look asleep to you?”

Sonova!!!

“Markinson, he’s not a chicken faunus at all,” Rainbow said. “He’s a penguin faunus wearing a fake chicken crest. He’s also Doctor Polendina’s lodger; that’s where I recognized him from.”

You freaking madlad! you just ripped off the entire plot for this chapter didn't you!?!

"Intruder, identify yourself," came the demand in that tinny, robotic voice.

And now you're doing the same with the Black trailer XD

Well played you absolute bastard, I freaking love it