First Draft

by Cherry Rie

Dense Macabre

All the King’s Horses
A Conversion Bureau story.

Chapter Eleven: Dense Macabre

Flakes of aged masonry crumbled away as the sleek figure left the unstable gable end, a briefly arched flight bringing him to the rough tar coated surface. Rolling to disperse the impact, the runner’s momentum carried into a fluid leap over the roof bound ventilation ducts, his feet finding the ground once more at a sprint.

They say that all fashion works in cycles. In a world where a message could travel to every country in the blink of an eye, commodity had been placed on secure information. Thus the courier had been reinvented. Once upon a time their cargo would have been letters encrypted by genius or cipher. Now the product was Vaults, isolated physical memory only accessible to those who had the correct data keys. It was the couriers job to deliver these unique keys and information to their prospective buyers. Naturally people would always need physical possessions moved around too and the delivery companies did good side business in contracted postal work.

With their high value packages, trouble tended to follow couriers like circling vultures. Whether armed or not, a delivery boy in the open was a sitting duck for would-be robbers. A good agent was one who survived to make their second delivery. This had led to various innovations on the part of the couriers themselves, evolving to deal with their predators. Some had taken to using heavily armed transports, others used careful planning and some even resorted to the dank oppression of the old sewers. Few though had mastered the aerial arts like Simon ‘Fax’ Golla. In his Australian home town of Dunnit, it was said that ‘Fax’ was quicker then e-mail.

From his vantage upon a particularly jaunty rooftop, Fax looked out over the urban jungle like a prince surveying his father’s lands.

Despite its unusual adaptations to life on the perpetual flood plain, the city of Portland was actually fairly mundane. The tall closely packed buildings mirrored one another in size, rough variants on the theme of ‘oblong’ rising side by side like dull monoliths. Here and there, the mad smatterings of ‘artistic licence’ spawned a cylinder or misshapen pyramid, but in the end they were lost in a sea of grey blocks in an uninspired child’s play set. What really set the city apart though was its façade, specifically it’s near conjoined roof space. Mismatched roofs were woven together by conduit pipes, walkways and plasti-steel bars, crisscrossing the simplistic cityscape into a thatched cottage the size of Manhattan. It was a free-runner’s paradise.

Latest package safely delivered, Fax felt the press of time waning in the heat of the daytime and sat down on the slanted rooftop for some well earned respite. Taking a long drag from the pipe leading to a his water canister, the career courier was about to kick back for a nap when a subtle movement caught his attention. What he had at first mistaken for the warble of distant heat haze turned out to be a tall figure, once sat and now striding across the open rooftops toward the runner. Other then the occasional Pegasi, visitors were rare in this world above. Delicately, without so much as braking pace, the thin person mounted the two inch wide conduit which led up to Fax’s perch. As the steel pipe began to creek under her weight, Sarah walked plainly across the precarious multi-story drop as though it were a generously proportioned sidewalk, reaching the other side without so much as a twitch of lost balance.

“Simon Golla?” Queried the artificial feminine voice. “KatRina is in need of your assistance.”

Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Simon nodded in reply. “Huh. Your sister said you were going to upgrade your voice. Suits you Sheila. What does Kitty need me for then?”

Whether or not the compliment was well received seemed unobtainable from the moulded features of the cyborg. “She requires to speak with someone.”

Though he already suspected the answer, Simon posed the question none the less, “Why not you?”

There was only a slight pause, too long to go unnoticed. “She needs someone real.”

--

“You’re sure it’s her in there?” Fax asked, watching as the door of the shed shook violently from another impact. From the intense swearing, something relatively human was being held within the barricaded shed. But in a world where even rats were no longer necessarily quadrupeds * he was inclined to air on the side of caution.

Sarah seemed to think for a moment before replying, “To within a ninety five percent probability.”

“No worries then.” Muttered the man, stepping forward to lay a hand upon the rusted steel surface. Beyond the corrugated door, the verbal assault had petered off into raspy muttering. Fax was no counsellor, he wasn’t being paid nearly enough for that. But he understood enough from what Sarah had told him during their brief journey across the open walkways. With little more than these ruff facts and a smattering of intuition, Simon had a fairly good idea what the girl’s panic was about. Waiting for Sarah to retreat to a safe distance (possibly on another roof), Simon gently leaned against the door and chose his words carefully.

“It’s an important decision, choosing how you die.”

The ranting inside stopped abruptly, the shack’s occupant suddenly quite attentive to the familiar voice.

“ ‘Our plan is to ponify you, the sooner the better. Expect this to happen when you least expect it.’ That’s how the Ambassadors put it when they first launched the Bureaus, and I can see why they don’t normally tell people when their number is up.”

Cautiously, Fax withdrew the obstructive rebar and gently opened the door, allowing daylight to flood the tomb like space beyond. “You were expecting it to be quick and definitive with no time to actually reconsider. Put fate in someone else’s hands, or hooves or whatever. But suddenly you’ve got the chance to make the choice yourself.”

“What would you know!” Growled the hunched shadow, stepping forwards to reveal the gangly teen, socks and all. “You can’t understand what my life has been like! My mother was executed in front of me. I was tortured for things I still don’t understand. I’ve been used, made to do the most horrible things for crowds of sick repugnant men and tossed aside like a soiled rag.”

Simon barely winced, knowing that if he started to pull punches she would slip back inside her shell.

“Yeah, your sister told me. She explained what happened with your mother, how you ended up in the Canadian States and about the club where she found you. Hate to tell you this, but everybody has a sob story on this messed up planet. They either cope or adapt. Besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve run away from something important.”

“I’m scared, okay!” Kat yelled, desperation cracking her fragile voice. “I’m fucking terrified. Everything was so vague before, but now that this ‘ending’ suddenly has a time and date I feel like I’m wasting away, content to just exist because there isn’t enough time left to DO anything.”

Turning her look of defeat to the forest of rooftops, Kat gestured to the sprawling cityscape beyond. “Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, we are only here for a fraction of a second. But while alive, we wait in vein, wasting years for a phone call or a letter, or a look from someone or something to make it all right but it never comes!”

Anger overtook despair like a falling counterweight, the girl’s mood switching so quickly that Simon could almost hear the snap of tension.

“It was supposed to have meant something!” She shouted, “All of it! Selfish to the last day of this hell, we want for that which we don’t have and loath that which we do. After everything that we’ve achieved man is still a fucking animal, screwing his way up the food chain. Fuck what happens to anyone else so long as he’s happy. Hate, greed and love, just chemicals in our blood commanding us to eat and shit and fuck, all to distract us from this brief pointless existence that can only lead to more suffering for those that come next.”

“And the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long, all the while pretending I’m okay. Maybe because no one wants to hear my misery, because they have they’re own.”

“Well. Fuck everyone.” Spat the ranting girl with uncharacteristic venom. Rounding on Simon like an enraged snake, the fury fled from her eyes at his look of aloof pity.

“I want to live Fax, I really do. But I can’t, not like this. I can’t keep waking up to this same tragedy, this same linier existence, this same face that I hate so god damn much that it makes me want to tear it off just too see if there’s anyone real underneath.”

Settling some, Kat’s gaze drifted to the automaton stood on the opposite roof, it’s back turned and head craned upwards to watch the Pegasi Swooping overhead. “ Yet when it comes to the longest step, the deepest cut, that one last pill that could afford me some beautiful release, turns out I’m just as much of a coward as she was.”

Fax sighed heavily. Neither empathy nor talking with kids were his forte. Sadly the mess of a girl had a thing for him. Though he wished that the skeletal woman had been wrong, as Sarah had pointed out to him Simon had the unique position of being someone whom Kat might actually open up too. Now he was stranded in the middle of a perilous psychological maze. Maybe it was best to start with his own feelings first?

“Look,” he started carefully, licking his lips in concentration. “You know I’m not into this whole ‘Equine’ thing. Used to be that changing how you look didn’t change who you were, just what part people saw first. Frankly, it’s wrong to just drink some magic goop to make you ‘nice’ instead of actually trying to become a better person, and downright creepy to think so many people have just leapt into this head first. Worse, there’s no fairness in who is converted and who isn’t. Murderers and brutal animals of the worst kind are welcomed with open arms, with no justice for the people who’ve suffered because of them.”

Finding his own opinions and frustrations flowing quite freely, the man boldly approached Katrina and pled his case, allowing the words to come without his fumbling brain interfering too much.

“But you’re a good kid Kitty, so here’s the way I see it. Ponies are total Sooks the lot of ‘em. Protecting someone else mind you, they’ll stand like a ewe with her lamb, but they’re virtually incapable of violence to defend themselves. So, not exactly the type to go around masterminding insidious plots to execute an entire race. You want to die? Fine, that’s your own choice an’ I ain’t going to argue the toss with you. But conversion isn’t going to do that. What it will give you is another view point, clear your head and open up some more options on where you go from here.”

Katrina winced as a firm hand gripped her shoulder, resisting the urge to lash out at the unexpected contact.

“If you still feel this way afterwards then fine,” Continued Fax in a remarkably upbeat tone, “throw yourself off a bridge or something. Hell, you could go to Equestria and feed yourself to a dragon. How’s that for a classy way to go? At the end of the day, at least you can say that you gave this new life a try. Who knows, you might get there and actually like it. I don’t approve of most people’s reasons for going to the Bureau, but unlike a lot of sinners on this earth, I honestly think you’re deserving of a second chance.”

Trails of dust whipped around the high rooftops in the gentle breeze, their thin dancing waltz distracting the distant youngster as she processed the older man’s words.

“Could you...” She tried, swallowing to clear her parched throat, “Would you come back with me? Just to the Bureau?”

*(Intresting point; the world record for the most legs on a muti-rat currently stands at thirteen and a half, the half due to a controversy over whether prehensile teeth counted as a functioning limb.)

--

“Dizzy, would you please stop.” Muttered the human receptionist, watching the anxious equine from behind her paperwork. “You’ve been walking in circles yammering for the last half-hour. Seriously, you’re going to give yourself ulcers or something.”

It had been several hours since the sisters had left the security of the bureau for the urban sprawl. Worried at their long absence, the pony had considered abandoning her post to look for them, a silly idea that was quickly quelled by her human partner. Even in a conversion city like Portland, a lone pony on the streets was in grave danger of assault or worse.

Suddenly, Dizzy looked up from the groove she was gradually wearing in the laminate flooring, ears flicking towards susurration too quiet for human hearing. The clinic doors slid aside, revealing the mechanised woman, her charge and a lanky man that the pony didn’t recognise.

“You’re back! Oh gosh, you’ve got to hurry!” Gasped the filly, anxiously trotting behind Katrina and nudging her towards the ponification wing, “They called your name fifteen minutes ago, Kat! Gogogo!”

Blinking in surprise at the pony head butting her rear, Katrina glanced up at Fax as though seeking guidance.

“We’ve brought you this far.” Shrugged the courier, “The rest is up to you, Kitty.”

With a nod, the girl broke into a run, vanishing behind the flapping clinic doors as she followed the blue arrows to the conversion rooms.

Letting out a long sigh, Fax poked the android in her skinny arm and held out his hand. “Got to get back to work before I’m missed too much. You owe me one.”

“Your assistance was much appreciated.” Sarah replied whilst taking the offered hand.

“Buh-bye now!” Waved the happy receptionist, watching as the courier bolted out into the entrance hall.

“He was nice. Wow! You two really cut that close! I mean I wasn’t too worried to begin with, but when it got after midday and you still weren’t back I started getting that awful feeling that something bad had happened and then I got these itches in my hooves so couldn’t even sit still at dinner-“

A careful forefinger and thumb pinched the excitable pony’s muzzle closed, silencing her rambling mid waffle.

“Are you still required here?” Sarah quavered, kneeling down to the Equestiran’s eye level, “I would like you to come with me to the garden.”

Mouth still sealed, Dizzy made a muffled sound and looked pleadingly at her partner on the desk.

“Don’t look at me,” replied the other receptionist hotly, “Your shift ended half an hour ago.”

--

Reclined against a small sculpture of a cubist’s worst nightmare, Sarah had watched in silence as her giddy companion darted around the wide open space. Amazingly the normally yellowing grass had begun to take on a healthy green hue around the happy earth pony.

Above them, barely six feet off the spongy green ground, a small cloud system had been assembled for the Pegasus newfoal flight class. Flitting like frightened fledglings pushed from the nest, the winged horses jumped from cloud to cloud, focusing on controlled landings on the uneven soft surface.

“What do you think it’s like to fly?”

Dizzy paused in her revelry and tilted an ear at Sarah’s suddenly broken silence.

Leaving the clinic behind, the pony and the half woman had climbed sweeping stairways to the rooftop intrigue that was the Portland Bureau garden. Whilst earth’s soil could be carefully processed until sickly plants could once again grow within it, only the slightly undulating lawn was native to Terra-firma. Twenty tons of soil had been imported from Equestria itself to fill the plethora of shallow flowerbeds and planters. Most were still empty, but others had been claimed by various newfoal earth ponies for their adventures in horticulture. With little effort the ponies were gradually creating their own corner of Eden.

“I’m not sure,” replied the giddy pony, “But I’d love to give it a try! Apparently they have airships in Equestria, isn’t that fantastic!”

Nodding stiffly, Sarah returned her gaze to the bouncing ponies, the juxtaposition utterly wasted on her limited experience. “Thank you for coming here. This has been enjoyable.”

Dizzy beamed, “That’s wonderful. Salve said you couldn’t feel like normal humans, but I’m glad you can have fun too.”

Something occurred to the filly as the words Sarah had spoken twigged her natural concern. “Umm, but if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you waiting to meet your sister after her conversion? I’m sure she’ll really want you to be there for her.”

“I cannot comply.” Replied the synthetic voice. “This unit’s actions over the past Eighty six thousand hours have violated Ghost control protocols. Restored cognitive functions were classified as mission resources.”

“Were?” Echoed the curious earth pony, ear tilting again in an adorably confused manner. She could swear the plastic woman was smiling.

“Cognitive functions serve no purpose beyond interaction with KathRin. In the event of mission failure, said functions will be discontinued. Conversion process takes twenty seven point five minuets. Two minuets remain until critical mission failure.”

Bewilderment prevailed on Dizzy’s features until realisation rushed up like a tidal wave. Gasping, the filly leapt the last few feet to Sarah’s side. “But, but conversion doesn’t change anything! I should know! She’ll still be her! She’s still… still…”

An emaciated hand silenced the frantic pony with a gentle scratch behind her flattened ears. Tears brimming in her enormous hazel eyes, Dizzy sat down and stared in defeat at her doomed friend.

“But that’s so mean! You can’t just disappear like that.” She begged, stepping closer to hug the gaunt form, “There has to be something I can do!”

“There is.”

For the second time, Dizzy gasped dramatically, renewed hope blossoming in her determined heart. “What! What do I have to do!”

“Stay here for one minuet, and thirty two seconds.”

Comments

[Cherry Rie]

I poured a lot of personal daemons into this chapter. It came out well, though slightly disjointed. Enjoy everyone!

[Cloudhammer]

I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter Cherry! really hope it works out for Kat

[Chatoyance]

Bawwww! One minute and thirty-two seconds! So sad!

Brill chapter, though. Thank you!

[Awe Striker]

Sorry for nitpicking like this, but...
It's spelled "courier". Not "currier", as tasty as curry is.

mmm, curry...

Dizzy better find a pretty long minuet if she doesn't want to have Sarah leave... oh. wait.

I really do like this. I can only assume it is nearing its end...

[Midnightshadow]

Ouch.

Yes, this chapter was a bit disjointed, but the only reason it was painful to read was because of what it meant to the characters. Well done.

[Cherry Rie]

347669>>347794>>349256

That one's escape from life might poison one's only sibling. Oh bitter irony thy name is Katrina.

348132

Thanks hun Gone through and corrected all the misplaced curry, could probably start up a bistro with all of this ^_^
Sadly you a correct, we are nearing the end now… of the first act.

[Cherry Rie]

EDIT! I've struggled over how to start the next chapter and to be honest, the dream sequence in the middle of this chapter is kinda out of place anyway. So I'll move Kat's conversion Dream to the beinging of chapter twelve instead.

[darkmatterbutterflies]

Woah, man, this is some intense emotional draught here, the kind of stuff that keeps you up at night. This chapter really shows your writing chops, all niggles about editing aside.

[Cherry Rie]

369490

Wow that’s a lot of comments Darkmatter! Your observations about the setting are quite correct! ‘Chatoyance’ fan that I am, I love to make call-backs to her astounding work. Quite a few of the grammatical errors and such are, as you suggested, miss-wording from MS word’s spell checker. One day, perhaps when the more turbulent part of the fic is out of the way, I’ll have to go back through with a second pair of eyes and pick out all the mistakes.

I’ve worried about chapter five and eleven for a while. Ch5 sees the assemblage of background plot, but didn’t play out exactly as I’d hoped. The feeling I was trying to convay was that the good doctor was being pedantic in his choice of setting, deliberately getting on Winsor’s nerves by acting the stereotype. If I were to go back at some point, I’d completely rework that scene, possibly to a kind of ‘another day at the office’ mentality. Darn, now I wish I'd thought of that change sooner, that would have worked so much better.

Though emotionally intense, chapter eleven doesn’t flow evenly. That and it comes across as overly ‘emo’ . The self-absorbed nature of Kat’s personality needed airing properly so that, after her transformation, a clear epiphany about her selfishness had more obvious founding to the reader. Very hamhanded on my part. Still, nothing to do about it now other then soldier onwards!

Thanks again hun!
Next chapter is about thirty percent written, mostly because I’m also working on the next instalment of ‘way to go home’ too. Yay multitasking!