Talking Heads

by Dave Bryant

Once in a lifetime

“I . . . guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Sunset muttered, half appreciative and half resigned, as broad shallow bowls appeared before us one after another. “Back of the pantry.” Tart apples, dried cranberries, raisins, sweet onions, all topped with orange vinaigrette, steamed as enthusiastically as the early treasure had. Another winter dish, the hot salad was named for its probably apocryphal origins as the odds and sods remaining in household stores as Winter Wrap-up approached, tossed and sautéed quickly. The chef had added his own touch, though, accompanying it with equally fresh warm olive loaf, crusty and fine, and high-grade olive oil for dipping. Before starting on either, though, Sunset bit her lip and gave Pin Stripes an apprehensive look.

The latter took that as her cue. “So. University. Major?”

Whatever Sunset was expecting, that didn’t seem to be it. “I—uh, art, I think. Performing with the Rainbooms is a blast, and I’ve really gotten into drawing and painting, even comics a little bit. Canterlot High has a good arts program—better than a lot of schools, they tell me, so I’m getting a decent grounding.” She tipped her head, even as she absently lifted her fork with a bite of the salad. “A lot of other kids are skipping traditional media and going straight into digital art, but I think that’s a mistake.” Her voice turned distinctly self-conscious. “Maybe I’m just biased because of where I’m from, though.”

I couldn’t resist butting in. “No, I think you’re right. Everything I’ve heard suggests learning traditional media builds a foundation for basic skills and outlook that’s hard to get otherwise. Do both at the same time, maybe, but don’t skimp on either one.” Exactly what meaning lay behind the look my boss gave me I couldn’t decipher, but I shut up and stuffed my pie hole with another bite.

“Mm. Studies show most high-school friendships fade away in a few years.” Pin Stripes’ tone was idle; her words were anything but. I wasn’t sure what studies she was talking about, assuming they actually existed, but then it wasn’t a subject I’d researched.

For the first time Sunset showed a glint of fire; her face hardened and an edge entered her words. “Not ours. I think that’s one reason Rainbow Dash started the Rainbooms. It’s just the kind of thing she would do. She’s loyal that way.” The hand not holding a fork stole up to touch her pendant. “Besides, we have these.”

“Ball and chain?” The clinical manner continued as Pin Stripes selected a slice of bread and touched its face to the pool of oil in the small plate on the left of her place.

Now there was a definite frown on the young face. “No! More like . . . a connection. A reminder. Okay, yeah, maybe we’ll need that extra help after we graduate from CHS, but I don’t think any of us have plans to skip off somewhere anyway.” Sunset’s flip of the hand carried a definite hint of Rarity’s mannered gestures in its wiggling fingers. “This isn’t a big city, but it’s big enough, and these days being where the action’s at isn’t as important as it used to be—or still is, in the other world. I did talk about the Internet, right?” A daring hint of sarcasm leaked through before she remembered her situation and closed her mouth with a snap.

Was there a hint of approval on the older face? I couldn’t be sure, but then, while I knew Pin Stripes better than Sunset did, that wasn’t to say I knew her well. “And after university?”

“I don’t know yet.” The simple statement was painfully honest. “Most of the others have pretty good ideas what they want to do, and I’ll bet Cook can give you chapter and verse on that if he hasn’t already—but I spent three years focused on the next time the portal opened, so I only started thinking about this a year ago.” She stole a glance at me, which I returned with a nod of acknowledgement. “I’ve been talking about it with the girls, and Princess Twi, and both Celestias and Lunas, and even Cook. I’m sure I can figure it out, if my friends help me with it.” After this little speech she looked down again, concentrating on the remains of her salad. For a moment all of us said nothing and continued eating.

“Family?” Pin Stripes wasn’t any quieter, but at least she no longer seemed to be prodding as hard.

“What?” Sunset sat up to favor her interrogator with a baffled expression. “How do you mean that?”

“You tell me.”

Sunset bought a moment to think by chewing on more bread, her face the picture of concentration. “My family? I . . . haven’t seen them lately. Maybe . . . I should talk to Princess Celestia about that.”

“Maybe you should.” A peculiar note flashed through the response. “Go on.”

“. . . Starting a family?” The aquamarine glare was back full force. “It’s a little early to be thinking about that, isn’t it? Besides, if there’s anything that isn’t your business, that’s it!”

“Says the former pony.”

Only our genteel surroundings seemed to keep Sunset in her seat. She leaned forward, put the heels of her palms against the table’s edge, and hissed through clenched teeth, “As long as I’m here, I’m as human as you are. If I drop-kicked you through the portal, you’d be a pony too. Probably. Maybe a griffin. A diamond dog would be too much to hope for.” She seemed on the verge of swearing like a sailor, and I sat up in alarm, setting my fork with a clatter in my empty bowl.

As I hoped, the sound broke the tension. Sunset shoved herself back in her seat and bit off her words. “Okay. If and when I find someone I like that much, maybe I will settle down. Maybe I’ll even be a mother. Maybe I’ll take my family through the portal to show them where I came from, where half their family comes from. I don’t know yet. I can’t know yet. I’ve tried to be good about this, but that question just isn’t fair.” Outright defiance shone in her scowl.

“You’re right; it isn’t.” If Sunset’s outburst bothered Pin Stripes, it didn’t show in her unruffled voice. “But you did answer it.”

“What?” Sunset repeated. “How?”

“Quite well,” came the enigmatic reply.

Again I quelled the urge to roll my eyes. “Sunset. It’s . . . a natural concern. You’re a foreign national, which can create complications all by itself. Add the whole interdimensional aspect, and of course people are going to wonder about the issues involved. How ‘equine’ are you here? How ‘human’ am I there?” I thought a moment. “You’ve met Raven. She’s quite an attractive young mare, isn’t she?”

Sunset’s open-mouthed double-take made me bite my lip against a crack of laughter. “R-raven Inkwell? Really?”

“Well, no. I mean, she’s pretty, and smart, and appealing, but—” I shrugged. “I know I explained ‘conflict of interest’ to you. And to paraphrase you, I like her, and I think she likes me, but not that much. I just wanted to point out how it can come up as a legitimate matter of interest.” That I also was a bit more interested in men—or stallions, depending—wasn’t germane, and I didn’t want to muddle an already complicated discussion.

“Fine. I’ll say this much. Except for Sci-Twi, none of us is involved with anyone right now, and I’ll be honest—I’m not sure if her thing with Timber will last or not, but I’m not telling either of them that.” The not-mare heaved a deep breath, letting it out through her nose; under the circumstances I couldn’t help imagining her equine nostrils flaring with a snort. “Ma’am, we’re busy. We have school and lives and all the other stuff people our age in this world have to deal with, plus a rock band and all those magical problems that keep coming up. I don’t think we have time for love lives. Maybe that’ll change later. I hope that’ll change later, for all our sakes. But not right now. Does that spell it out?”

“Clearly, thank you,” Pin Stripes told her politely.

Sunset squeezed her eyes shut and visibly forced herself to relax in her chair. “What next?” Resignation dominated again, but at least her mood was less tentative than it had been when this whole rigamarole started.

“Main course,” was the completely accurate and utterly unhelpful answer. Never had I been so close to insubordination as I was in that moment. Fortunately, having noticed our empty dishes and no-longer-confrontational body language, a waiter descended on us once again to clear away the remnants in preparation for the aforementioned next course.

Author's Note:

Back of the pantry is another dish from Baron Engel’s Equestria dreamscape. Something often forgotten by grocery shoppers in the industrialized world is how recent and revolutionary supermarket offerings truly are. For all but the tiniest moment in human history, assuming one had enough to eat at all, the foods available were limited to what was in season locally, with almost no ability to obtain anything from farther afield. That began to change with the Industrial Revolution—steamships, railroads, ice houses and iceboxes, all foreshadowed the enormous, sophisticated logistical and storage systems we have today, capable of supplying and maintaining fresh produce flown from the other hemisphere within hours.
  Equestria rarely has to worry about shortfalls; thanks to earth magic, even the poorest habitants can afford, and can count on, adequate diets, which certainly can’t be said of our own world even today. At the same time, only in the last few decades have the ponies begun to develop the same technology and processes to bring out-of-season foodstuffs, in bulk, across the country. My assumption is that magic works well on an individual level, but does not generate economies of scale the way technology does. Hence, a pannier is small enough for a preservation spell, but (occasional magical prodigies aside) a warehouse is just too big for enchantment—and there is incentive for ponies to develop technology in the first place.

Comments

[Booster Spice]

You get used and even like veggies that can grow more than 6 months of the year and can store more than the rest of the time. The trick is induviduals being able to grow at least enough reliably year in year out without some armed idiot coming along and taking twice the excess so eventually all the peasants growing their food die of starvation and they get themselves killed by fighting the next door idiot thats done the same.

One reason for lots of work through school etc, is that exhausted people cant come up with new and intresting ways to mess up the balance sheet.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Do both at the same time, maybe, but don’t skimp on either one.

Symbolism!

If I drop-kicked you through the portal, you’d be a pony too. Probably. Maybe a griffin. A diamond dog would be too much to hope for.

Pulling out lethal weaponry against government employees is frowned upon, Sunset.

This is proving to be a major test of will. Likely by design. Undersecretary Stripes may be just as interested in finding Sunset's breaking point as any other data she's after.

[Arkonfleight]

>Magic works well at an individual level, but has difficulties going mass
I always figured this was the case, along with "the personal touch" being a significant element of enchantment and the crafting process.

[Dave Bryant]

9714610
“Symbolism?” I, uh, really didn’t intend any, to be honest, so I don’t know what symbolism you had in mind.