11. Growing Pains I – Be Careful What You Wish For
“First things first!” I shouted over the heads of the mass of ponies in front of me. “Form up in lines! Let’s get this done quick, lads!” The gaggle dutifully shuffled their hooves, quickly lining up in uneven, yet orderly rows wide enough for me to move through. “Good, good! Blueblood, if you’d kindly?” A quill levitated over to my waiting fingers. “Thank you. Construct, headcount?”
“One moment,” she said, immediately trotting off into the mass. A few minutes passed before I heard her call out, “Five hundred thirty eight, First Minister!”
“Five hundred…” I dutifully jotted the figure down. That… was a lot of people to be depending on me. I couldn’t let it get to me. Not in front of them. “Right. That makes… two dozen, Construct, Blue and Lyra… Hooves too… five hundred seventy one people here. Including myself. Fuck me.
“Right!” I called next. “As you might all already know, I am First Minister Adam Inns of the Free State. Right now, on this patch of land, what I say goes. I might have been granted this position by the grace of her Majesty, Princess Celestia, but if any of you fuck with me, it’ll be me kicking your arse back to the pits of Hell, understood? Excellent.” I gestured to my entourage at my sides, consisting of Blueblood, Construct and Lyra. “Ambassador?” I prompted, at which he quickly stepped forwards, casting a gaze out to the masses.
“This is Ambassador Blueblood, the Free State’s connection to the Equestrian Diarchy. If you’ve got a problem with anything back home, or if back home has a problem with you, it’ll be him you will need to talk to. Likewise, if you’re not a Free State citizen, and you cause trouble here, it’ll be him talking me down from throwing your arse out of here.”
Next, I gestured to Construct, who quickly took his place. “This is Sturdy Construct. She’s the one in charge of building your houses, farms, barns, wells, piping, absolutely everything you’ll ever need to live here. In my absence, and with the lack of anyone more qualified, she’s in charge. Give her any crap, and I’ll know – assuming she doesn’t kick the rest of it out of you for me. Likewise with the employees under her.”
As for Lyra, well… she was content with hiding behind me. I couldn’t think of anything major she might be useful for at this stage, and she hadn’t volunteered for anything. I let it rest for the time being, instead stepping forwards myself.
“Now!” The crowd refocused on me. “With our introductions out of the way, we need to get to yours. Once I know who you are, that’ll be it for the day. Tomorrow morning, ten o’clock, at the sawmill – be there, I’ll decide what to do with all of you. Construct, Blueblood, Lyra.” The trio turned to me expectantly. I handed out a few sheets of parchment to each, trusting Blueblood to have enough brains to magic up some quills and ink to go with them – which he did at once. Smart cookie. “I’ll need your help to do this quickly. I want a full name, tribe, age, physical description, and a special talent for each pony, where applicable. Try to group family members together, if you can.” Each nodded, their implements already in their magic, or wings (somehow) and mouth for Construct, as they set off for the rows upon rows of ponies waiting expectantly.
Dutifully, I moved forward to the first row myself, quill and parchment in hand, and up to the first pony along. “Alright,” I muttered. “Earth pony, dull green coat, dark grey mane… cutie mark of…”
“A beaver’s tail,” supplied the pony.
“Beaver’s tail,” I noted. “Stallion… name?”
“Snapper,” he said.
“That your full name?” I asked, to which he nodded. “Alrighty… age?”
“Thirty-one.”
“Aaand special talent?”
“I, uh, I can buck trees down real easy.” He didn’t sound terribly confident in himself. Was that something that was looked down on? I chuckled, nevertheless.
“Oh, you’ll fit right in here, I’m sure. You got anyone else with you here?”
He took a moment to swallow before replying. “…No.”
“Alrighty.” One down… one hundred and thirty something to go. “That’s all I need to know. You’re free to go. Sawmill at ten o’clock tomorrow, don’t forget.” I stepped sideways to the next pony in line, letting Snapper wander off by himself. “Next up, pegasus mare, cream coat, magenta mane...”
On and on the census went. The list of ponies in my hand grew larger and larger, soon passing a hundred entries. The rows quickly dwindled; occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of a certain two-toned cyan mane, or an immaculate white coat, or some dirty-brown wings that’d seen better days, working the rows up ahead and trimming them down just as quickly.
Soon, only a few ponies were left in line. The sun was now hanging low in the sky, casting a magnificent crimson streak in the air that barely cleared the treetops. The third-to-last pony on my last row had just finished up, and stretched out his legs, tired from sitting in one spot for over an hour. Stepping sideways, I began my inspection… of a patch of grass above a tiny pony’s head. Adjusting my gaze…
“Er…” A foal was staring up at me with big brown eyes. “Hey there, kid… brown coat, deep green and yellow mane, earth pony. Cutie mark… nope.” I turned to the last pony in line, next to them. “They’re yours, right?”
“No.” They shook their head.
I blinked. “Seriously?” I looked around, trying to find any pony looking for a missing child of theirs, but no dice. I turned back to the kid, still staring up at me with those damn eyes. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Silent Wish,” said the foal.
“Where are your parents, Wish?”
“I don’t have any parents,” said the foal.
…
Oh Jesus fucking Christ. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Then… don’t you have anyone to take care of you? No legal guardian? Sibling, aunt, uncle, cousin? Anyone?”
Wish made to shake her head, but her eyes lit up at the last moment. “Oh! Sky Gale used to give me bread before he told me to come here. Does that count?”
Sky Gale… checking my list over revealed no such name. I could only hope that he was in one of the rows I didn’t get to… before the rest of the sentence passed my idiot brain and dashed those hopes to nothing.
Fuck. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it all to hell. I sighed explosively, and lowered my parchment to my side. “No,” I said. “No, it doesn’t. Alright, kid. Look… ah… just, stick with me for now, okay? Can you do that, Wish?”
“Okay,” said Wish, nodding enthusiastically. Immediately, she scampered to my side, pressing herself against my left leg.
“Yeah…” was the only word that could escape me. “Okay, one last pony. Unicorn, ah… mare, pink-white coat, dirty blonde mane… cutie mark of… is that a sparkler?”
“That’s a firework,” she explained.
“Ah, I see. Firework… let me guess, your special talent is…?”
“Pyrotechnics manufacturing,” she said, rather pointedly.
I tutted. “Darn. I owe myself ten bits. Making fireworks, then. And your name and age?”
“Rose Tick,” she said. “And forty-three.”
“Hmm. Odd name, but whatever. Alrighty,” I concluded, tucking the quill away in a pocket somewhere, drying it off. “Remember, sawmill at ten tomorrow. You can go.”
With my final pony recorded on the paper, I could finally take a breath and survey my surroundings. Construct was still struggling through her load, though it was nearing its end with only a dozen ponies left for her, with Blueblood quickly hopping in from the opposite side. Lyra had already finished her work, and was watching the pair.
My footsteps on the grass were louder than I thought; I didn’t even have to call her name for her to turn to me… and immediately drop her gaze to the foal at my side. I could practically see her heart break.
“Lyra?”
She didn’t bother to look up at me. “You too?”
“What?” As if to reply, another foal peeked out from behind Lyra, looking my way. This one was a grey little thing – grey coat, grey mane, grey eyes, grey wings. His inquisitive stare bored into my own dying eyes. “Oh,” was all that came to me.
Apparently, things could only ever get more depressing in the Free State. Two little foals had somehow found their way to me, alone, along with the five hundred other ponies with nowhere else to go.
“Your sheet, please,” I said, trying to divert my mind from the situation. Her parchment lit up cyan, and fluttered over to my waiting palm. Reading it over revealed nothing out of the ordinary… except for one entry near the middle, missing an age – just like my own was for Wish, I realised.
“So… you must be… Bowmound?” I said, to which the grey foal immediately perked up at, and nodded. “How old are you?”
“I’m eight and three quarters!”
“And you, Wish?”
“I’m nine and a half!” She even stuck her tongue out at the colt. I jotted the figures down with a sigh.
“Right.” Construct and Blueblood were just about finishing up, finally. All five hundred plus new residents of the Free State had been catalogued. Construct turned to face us as we approached, a certain tightness in her posture that only grew stronger as she took note of the foal at my side. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s a bit of a mess, ain’t it? Your sheet, please. Yours too, Ambassador.” I quickly snatched up their offered parchments, rolling them up together and putting them in an inside pocket.
“What do you need from us now, First Minister?” asked Construct.
Once again, I sighed. “Okay. Okay.” ‘A bit of a mess’ didn’t do it justice. I steadied my breathing, willing my heart rate to lower and my hands to stop shaking without success. “Okay. Lyra, could you kindly keep the foals occupied for a while? Construct, Blueblood, to my cabin, please.”
“Of course, sire,” said Lyra. “Alright, Wish, Bowmound, come over here please…” Her voice, and the foals’, petered out as I neared, then entered my cabin, holding the door open for my two partners. I locked it shut behind me.
We didn’t move out from the hallway. None of us spoke for a long while. None of us seemed to be able to put our thoughts to the air. Construct shook her head in dismay, the lines etched into her face working to age her up about thirty years. Blueblood looked between the two of us worriedly, trying occasionally to work his jaw.
I was dumbstruck. It had barely been a week since I’d said my piece, and already over five hundred souls had made the journey to the Free State. Why on Earth would so many people be so willing to throw themselves at my feet, so quickly?
“Fuck,” I summarised. My two companions only nodded. When I saw that it wasn’t enough to kickstart an actual conversation, I continued. “This is all… just, fucked. Fucked, I tell you.”
“You brought this upon yourself, First Minister,” reminded Blueblood. “Was this not the whole purpose of your appearance at the Summer Sun Celebration?”
“I didn’t think there’d be so many so soon!” I exclaimed. “Fuck me, if I’d known I’d have gotten five hundred fucking mouths to feed inside a week I’d have waited until I could actually feed them, yeah?”
“You,” said Construct, “are an idiot.”
I sighed explosively, letting myself sag in place. “Yes,” I ground out. “I am. Fine, whatever. Call me whatever you like. I’ve got to unfuck this shitshow. Any ideas?”
Construct was silent.
“Anyone?”
So was Blueblood.
“Anything?”
…
“…Oh, fucking hell.” I practically slammed my palms onto my face, worming my fingers under my glasses to work at my eyes, trying to rub the fatigue out of them. “Fine, one thing at a time then. Start from the beginning and see what we can make work from it.” I fished the lists back out from my pocket and skimmed through them. “Let’s see… how many foals do we have here…?”
“I counted seven,” said Construct.
“I saw two,” said Blueblood.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, your memories are good. I only got the one. So Lyra’s list has… er, twelve, looks like. So that makes… twenty-two kids, including the two… orphans. Five-three-eight minus two-two… five hundred and sixteen adults.
“First off: where do they sleep? Construct?”
She drew herself up, as if to stand at attention before a drill sergeant. “We are in far too early a stage of development to be able to house all of your residents. Currently, we have eleven houses and two storage depots suitable for habitation, as well as two houses under construction.”
“How many can you fit in the depots?” I asked.
“Minimum of fourteen,” answered Construct. “Maximum of thirty-seven. Depending on how much other material we have stored.”
“So, worst case is…” This time, I did the maths in my head. “Seventy-two ponies? And best case is a hundred eighteen?”
“Like I said, sir,” said Construct, utterly flatly. “You are an idiot.”
“Leave off it, Construct,” I barked. “Now is not the time. Does every other pony sleep outside? How much do they pack themselves in?”
“Pack themselves in?” parroted Blueblood. Construct shared his confusion.
“Yes,” I said. “Pack them in. Sleeping outside is the very worst case scenario. There’s plenty of room in a house, if they don’t mind sleeping on the floor; at the very least they’ll be under a roof. I don’t know how pony physiology works, but exposure in bad weather kills a human pretty quickly, and no mistake. Four ponies to a house is a gross under-utilisation of indoor space, particularly in a crisis like this one.”
“That’s… not something I can recommend, First Minister,” tried Construct.
I was having none of it. “I don’t give a fuck. Get as many ponies sleeping indoors as possible. If there’s still not enough room, then… I dunno, bang up some fabric canopies or something. Anything will do, really. Even sleeping under a tree, if necessary.”
Eventually, Construct relented. “…I’ll see what I can do.”
“Excellent. Now, the next thing. Food. How much do we have before shit hits the fan?”
“Much of the last harvest still remains,” said Construct. “However, five hundred ponies will empty our reserves rapidly. I estimate about three weeks before it runs out.”
“Bugger.” That was very, very bad news. My food grew fast, to be sure, but three weeks was a pipe dream and a half. My next harvest, I thought, was likely to come about sometime in the middle of autumn. Early October, if I was lucky… November, if not. That was a lot longer than three weeks… everyone would have starved by then. “That’s… actually really bad fucking news. What can we do to make it stretch?”
“For how long?”
“Until… worst case, next harvest, late autumn. Best case, we can ask for some help, or scrounge up all our cash and buy in bulk from Las Pegasus or somewhere, along the way.”
“How much do you have?” Blueblood was the one to ask this.
I frowned. “Assuming our residents don’t chip in – or can’t – about two thousand in bits, and another two or three thousand in valuables.”
“Four thousand… that might buy you another month.”
I nodded. “Good. That’s a little more manageable. We’ll still have to ration carefully… how much could we forage from the surroundings?” A thought struck me, one which I really should have come up with earlier. “Wait! You’re ponies, right? Can’t you just eat grass?”
“Seriously?” Neither pony in front of me approved. Blueblood in particular looked at me like I was rotting scum. I quickly took the hint, a creeping pinkness coming to my cheeks.
“Ah… I suppose not, then. But still, I’ve seen you folk eat flowers, ones humans definitely can’t. About how much could we get from the forest, and the fields?”
“That depends,” said Construct, still staring at me like I was an apocalyptic moron. “If the field is as inert in the forest as it is here, then probably not much.”
“Worst case?” I prompted.
“I’d say… maybe enough for twenty, twenty-five. It’ll give us an extra few days at least.”
“Every little helps,” I agreed. “We’ll just have to hope it’s not as bad as that. Distribution?”
“...Distribution?” both ponies parroted.
“We’ll need to ration very carefully. Squeeze out as much time as possible.” I grimaced. “I hate to use the term ‘starvation rations,’ but, if worse comes to worse, some… might have to suffer for a while.”
“You’d starve your own citizens?” exclaimed Blueblood.
“What else would you have me do?” I snapped. “It’s either feed them less now, or feed them nothing later! Unless you can fart out a banquet from your fucking horn, Mr. Magician?” Next, I blazed at Construct. “Or how about you, Builder Bob? Care to hammer up some fucking banana plantations?”
“Do you believe your subjects will stand for that?” asked Construct, completely unfazed.
Her flat tone made me pause. “…You have a good point,” I conceded. “The border’s open, after all. Either they’ll leave now, when I tell them, or later when they actually start starving. Either way, at least no-one will actually die.”
“You’re telling them you intend to starve them?” asked Blueblood, incredulously.
“You think they don’t deserve to know?” I asked back, a little heated. “Who the fuck do you take me for, Ambassador? I’m not gonna withhold food from starving ponies just for fun, you idiot! If there’s a good fucking reason for me to do it, then they can be fucking told it, yeah?”
“I apologise,” he said immediately. “It was not my intention to insinuate such. I merely question the wisdom of such a move.”
“Wisdom or not, it’s the right thing to do,” I dismissed with a wave of the hand. “We’ll need to expand our crop fields quick. Not to mention… the…” Oh God damn it. Only now you come up with it, Inns, you moron. “Construct.”
“Yes, First Minister?” She looked alarmed, at my sudden trailing off. Blueblood tilted his head.
“Congratulations,” I intoned. “I’ve just found you an extra five hundred motivated workers.”
“Sir?” A blank look was all I got. It was one I returned… for exactly as long as it took for comprehension to dawn. “That… that would certainly speed things up.” Then, a crinkle on her forehead. “But they won’t be very effective workers if you aren’t able to feed them properly.”
“I know.” I sighed. “We’ll have to prioritise certain groups for first pick of the food supplies. Can’t work on empty stomachs, after all…” I put a hand to my chin, eyes unfocusing. “Children and the elderly go first, of course. Then… a little more for parents, perhaps, just in case. Then, the most useful workers get more food. Anyone who can’t, or won’t work, gets rationed. It’ll deplete our stocks a little faster,” I grimaced again, “but it’ll have to do. Oh, and Construct, I’m afraid you’ll have to get your and your workers’ food from the Crown, from now on.”
“Of course, First Minister,” she said, nodding to me. “I’ll remind you, though, that it will slow the transportation of other materials down.”
“We can worry about that later,” I dismissed. “Right now, we need to make sure no pony here starves to death. And doesn’t die of exposure, either.” I put a hand to my forehead. A pressure in my head had snuck up on me while I wasn’t paying attention, and the headache was now here in force. “Ah, fuck me… what a total shitshow. I can’t-”
A knock on the door stopped me cold. Before I could snap out of it, Blueblood magicked the door unlocked, and opened it. Lyra, on the other side, blinked, not expecting me to not have opened it myself, but quickly recomposed herself, and stepped inside – a particular pair of a gray colt and a brown filly following soon after.
“Lyra?”
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said. The door shut itself behind her, courtesy of the Ambassador. “It’s getting late outside, and the foals didn’t have anywhere to sleep.”
“Of course they didn’t,” I grumbled. “Well, if nothing opens up, they can stay here. Which reminds me,” I snapped my fingers. “Plenty of floor space in here, too. Stick some ponies in here as well, Construct.”
“In your own home?” Construct asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am.” I gave her a level stare, which cowed her pretty quickly. “I’m perfectly capable of walking my talk, sunshine. I’ll sign myself up for rations if I have to. And I’m pretty sure I will.”
“What about Wish and Bowmound?” asked Lyra. The two blinked their impossibly large eyes, right at me.
I exhaled. “I don’t know… they can sleep on the couch, I suppose.”
“But then where will you sleep?”
Lyra was the next recipient of my stare. “Where do you think? The floor, that’s where.”
Silence reigned. I looked to each pony in turn. Their faces might as well have been carved from granite – each telling a slightly different story, but still conveying the same general message: shock.
I strode past the herd into my kitchen, dismissing my entourage with a wave of the hand to my door. “Damn it all,” I muttered. “And to think, I was gonna get smashed tonight. Fat chance of that happening now, eh.” Coffee was a tempting mistress, but I knew I couldn’t; not at this late hour, or else I’d have fallen asleep at one in the morning, and been miserable for the entire day after. Not to mention that if I did that, I might have slept through the next day's meeting. I settled on some boring old water.
A tug at my pants almost made me fumble the cup, but I recovered quickly enough. The filly, Wish, was trying to get my attention. “What is it, dear?”
“Thank you, mister,” she told me. I saw the pegasus colt duck in quickly, trotting up to me as well. “For letting me stay in your house.”
“Thank you,” echoed the colt, a little quieter.
I felt my eyes sting as I leaned down and patted Wish, then Bowmound, on the head. “Believe me,” I told them. “It’s the least I can do.” I stood back up, and gestured behind them. “Now go on. Little ponies need their sleep, and I’m pretty sure it’s your bedtime. I’ll set the couch up for you in a sec.” The little ponies nodded and ran out. I finished off the rest of my water, feeling rather sleepy myself. It’s the least I can do… I sure hope it is.
The kiddos watched me work with an intense fascination, as I quickly laid out two sheets and pillows across my ‘bed.’ The pillows were on opposite sides; I figured neither wanted to catch cooties in their sleep, assuming that sort of thing was still relevant here. Fortunately, there was plenty of space for it to fit them both.
“Here you go,” I said, straightening and stepping back. “Hopefully that’ll do the job. If you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask, either me or Lyra. Bathroom’s just before the front door, on the right.”
“Thank you mister,” chorused the two foals, clambering up and onto the couch, and into their sheets. I nodded, more to myself than anything, and stepped back out into the hallway, resting my forehead against a wall.
Jesus fuck. Today had been… a lot. The weight of five hundred people pressed down onto my shoulders, and I was nowhere near prepared for the strain. If I fucked anything at all up in the next weeks and months, people were going to die. Fuck, people were probably going to die even if I didn’t. Or they’d just leave, tell me to fuck off, and this will have been a big fat pointless waste. And then, even if they didn’t, even if everything ended up going perfectly, what then? What was I supposed to do? More were going to show up? Was I doomed to eternally chase after perfection, until the stress of it all drove me into an early grave?
I felt lost, adrift at sea. Nothing in all my short few years of life had ever prepared me for the actual, physical feeling of being responsible for the life of another. These ponies, all five-hundred and change of them, had entrusted themselves to me, with Equestria leaving them in the dust and forcing them to trust in me as their last chance at some sort of good life… and I couldn’t even feed them properly. Twenty-two kids I was responsible for, now, and I couldn’t even feed them.
A hot streak ran down my face. I startled at the unfamiliar sensation, dabbing at it with a finger. I still didn’t realise I had started crying until my glasses began to fog up from the bottom. How in the fuck Celestia had done this for all her three-thousand years of her life, I would never in a million years be able to comprehend. It hadn’t even been three hours, and already I was about to unravel.
Once more, I contemplated surrender. To simply throw my hands in the air, get Celestia on the horn and tell her to sort this shit out her own damn self. No-one would have to starve, no-one would have to sleep under the stars, I could go back to my old life reading shitty adventure novels (sappy romance bullshit was never my thing) and not have to worry about having hundreds of ponies to feed and clothe and house… who would begrudge me for making such a choice? Did I really, at the end of the day, need the approval of others? I’d made do without back home, and I’d made do without here. Could I live without Lyra’s – Celestia’s, whoever’s – forgiveness, when all is said and done, if I did choose to kick this shit to the pavement? Sure I could.
I sighed, shaking my head in despair. The problem is, could I live without mine?
“Adam?”
Absorbed in my pit as I was, I hadn’t noticed Lyra sneaking up behind me until she reached out with a hoof, tapping my shoulder. Neither had I noticed having sunk to the floor. I turned my head a little, still focusing on the same unknowable spot in the wall that had absorbed me initially. “Hey, Lyra,” I said, tiredly. “I’m sorry. You caught me at a bit of a bad time.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You really have to ask me that?” This time, I took the considerable effort to look her in the eyes. No doubt she saw the streaks of moisture on my face, judging by the pity I sensed coming off her like a stench. Back I turned to the wall, pressing my forehead against it once more. “I never asked for this,” I said, eyes screwed shut. “And it’s still all my own bloody idiot fault. Should just have stuck to an ad in a paper… what the hell was I thinking?”
A brush of fur against my ear made me jump – Lyra had actually nuzzled me. “Not all hope is yet lost, Adam,” she whispered. The rush of breath on my skin served well to re-ground me to reality. I didn’t even feel the usual crawling. “Whether you believe it or not, you have done a great service to these ponies.”
“Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” I pleaded, unmoving. “To me it feels like I’m pulling a long con on these poor fuckers! Suckering them in with false promises of a better life, only to hand them an outdoors sleeping spot with a healthy side of starvation! How can that be called a service? What, possibly, could I have given these people?”
“Hope.”
…
Lyra needed to speak only a single word to silence me. That she continued on was just the icing on the cake.
“I understand you’ve only been back here a few hours. You haven’t talked with any of these ponies yourself. Believe me, Adam, when I tell you that you’ve already changed their lives so much, just by offering. Some of those ponies have already received everything they had asked for, now. That hope… that’s a commodity that Equestria, for whatever reason, saw fit to deny them, that you’ve handed to them with a smile on your face.” Again, fur brushed against the side of my head. “Who says they have to be false promises? The lack of food and shelter? That’s a problem you can solve, Adam. Would it hurt so much to even try? I know you’re a better pony than that – a better person. A stronger person.”
I closed my eyes again. Inhaled, then exhaled. Opened them… peered at Lyra’s softly smiling face out of the corner of my eye. Shook my head in amazement.
I turned to face her fully, a smile – genuine and warm – mirrored on my own face. “Thanks,” I said. “I think I needed to hear someone else say that.” Finally, I went to the bother to wipe my eyes from the moisture that had collected on them from earlier, and staggered to my feet, overcoming a brief bout of vertigo. “I guess you’re right… wouldn’t hurt to try, would it.” I looked around, still in the hallway, peering into the kitchen – empty – then the living room – empty, except for the two kiddos. “Hmm. Would have thought Construct would have shepherded some ponies indoors by now. Well, nothin’ for it.” I turned back to Lyra. “Suppose I ought to go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Wait, Adam,” she said quickly, then shied backwards, avoiding meeting my eyes. “You could, ah, I mean… you don’t have to go to sleep on the floor… you really shouldn’t…”
“I ain’t got any futon to pull out, ya know,” I pointed out.
“I know that,” she said. “But, I mean… I could, well, share your bed? That is, I mean…”
“What, you want me to sleep together with you?” My smirk faltered only briefly, when she eventually nodded. “Gee, Lyra. You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”
“What?” Her quizzical stare was countered by me waggling my eyebrows at her, which quickly got my message across. “O-oh… no, I don’t mean like that-”
“I know you don’t,” I relented. “Although, are you sure you’d be comfortable with it?”
“Of course,” she said, immediately. The speed of her response caught me off-guard, although in retrospect, it really shouldn’t have. Ponies, after all, were pretty big on physical affection, whereas I was much more ambivalent on the concept – enough for Lyra to pick up on it. “I-I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to… I understand-”
“No, no, that’s fine. I can do that. As long as you don’t try any funny business,” I said, my smirk this time a little more forced, though still enough to get a blush out of her. “I’ll just warn you now, though, I’m a pretty… ah, shall we say, ‘vigorous’ sleeper. Don’t come complaining to me if I squish any of your delicate bits in my sleep by accident.”
“…Okay,” she said, nervously, magicking the door to my bedroom open. “You can go to bed, I’ll stay up a little longer.”
“No problem,” I said, shuffling inside, the siren song of sleep already calling out to me.
Before I knew it, I was in bed and out cold.
My first more-or-less official duty as First Minister, I thought with a certain bitter amusement, twiddling my thumbs under the roof of the sawmill. Give a speech to a crowd. Oh, Christ, when did I become a fuckin’ politician? I’d slept like a log, only woken up by Lyra just before eight. No mishaps had occurred in the night, to our knowledge, which I breathed a sigh of relief for. I had been a little more put off by the sight of ponies laying on the floor in the kitchen and hallway, before I remembered that I literally asked Construct to make that happen. That morning, the sight only filled me with resolve, rather than the crushing despair it would have the previous night.
Now, after a slightly less hearty breakfast than usual – along with about a coffee and a half, naturally – I was sat on my arse, together with Construct, ‘in’ the sawmill, waiting for ten o’clock, because to be early simply would not do. I hadn’t prepared what I was going to say; with any luck, I could pull a half-decent speech out of my arse in five minutes, as well as sculpt a half-decent one in five hours. Construct had found the sentiment quite funny.
I’d spent a few minutes walking around the… ‘settlement’ still felt a little inappropriate, but I couldn’t really call it ‘my place’ any more, not with five hundred extra chucklefucks running around. My realm? I’ll have to work on that, I think. Regardless, it did at least do wonders for my morale: hearing dozens of thank-yous for what I’d done from the newcomers filled me with a wonderful feeling that I hadn’t really felt before in my life, one I couldn’t exactly place, or name. Hopefully I’m not gonna sour all that goodwill any time soon. Not even the harsh truth of reality could dampen it.
“…only just remembered,” I was saying. “What’s happening with that doctor you invited?”
“He was called away with the cataloguers,” replied Construct. “Something about a new strain of knacker’s flu. Nothing dangerous, but it does last a while, and it’s quite contagious. I’m not entirely clear on exactly where it was found, but they did say it was somewhere outside the forest, and not near here.”
“When should I expect him to be back?”
“That depends on exactly what the flu turns out to be. If it’s similar enough to other strains, an existing shot should be fine, and he’ll be back within the day. Otherwise, they’ll have to report to Medical, which’ll be another three days or so.”
“They need to report that in person?”
“Standard procedure,” said Construct, with profound disdain. “I don’t make the rules.”
Of course. Bureaucracy. “Gotcha. Anything else to report?”
“No, First Minister.”
“Okay, good.” I checked the time; nine fifty-two. Fuck it, I’m tired of waiting. I stood up abruptly, and heard a throat clear behind me.
“Am I dismissed, First Minister?” asked Construct.
“I’m afraid not,” I replied. “I’ll need you to organise whoever wants to work for their home into a proper construction brigade.” I snapped my fingers, and inhaled sharply. “Ooh, yes. Also, anyone with the right talent for things, I’d like you to train them as well. If at all possible, I mean.”
Construct grimaced. “With respect, First Minister, that wasn’t in my job description…”
“It’s in mine,” I retorted. “Helping people out of a jam is all well and good, but at some point they’ll have to provide for themselves. I can teach the basics of how to work a field, but I don’t know how to build a house, or operate a saw, or run a farm complex. Besides, the sooner we get this mess fixed, the sooner you can go home and get paid, and the sooner I can start actually running a country, rather than a glorified refugee camp.”
“…As you wish, First Minister,” sighed Construct.
“Excellent.” I strode easily out to the closest thing I had to a proper stage – the raised platform out from under the roof, leading up to the saw itself. Beyond the set of stairs in front of me was already a throng of ponies. Construct stepped out next to me, though a step or two behind. “This everyone, you think?”
“Hmm…” Her eyes darted this way and that, the beam of her gaze like that of a lighthouse, sweeping across the whole field in just a few moments. “I think that’s the vast majority of them.”
“Close enough, you think?”
“I suppose so, First Minister.”
“Okay.” I inhaled, held it for a beat, then exhaled. Truth be told, I wasn’t even that nervous. Back at the Summer Sun, I was practically quivering at the thought of speaking to a crowd of thousands. Five hundred was still not much to sneeze at, and yet I felt practically light as air, despite – or perhaps even because of – the weight of my responsibility anchoring me to reality.
“Wait,” said Construct, blowing my speech right out of the water. “I think there’s more ponies here than we should have.”
“Huh?” Great. Nice and smooth, Inns.
“This crowd is a little large for five hundred thirty eight. It looks more like six hundred.”
I frowned, shortly, until the deduction sprang forth. “…More ponies? Wishing to join?”
“Most likely,” she agreed.
“Fine.” Inhale, hold, exhale, once more. No big deal; a short addendum at the beginning would sort them out, whatever they were. I shook my head, and focused.
“Ponies!” My call silenced the attendees at once. “Hear me now!
“First off, I humbly welcome you to your first official day of residence in the Free State. That so many of you have entrusted yourselves to my care, instead of the civilisation that has sheltered the pony race for thousands of years, ruled, created by one of your own… it swells my soul like nothing else. I swear to you all now, to those willing to stay and live here: for as long as I hold the post of First Minister, I shall devote my life and soul to you – those who would receive no such declaration from any other being, for whatever reason they may wish to conjure – to protect you, to nurture you, to raise you above and beyond what you could possibly have imagined for yourselves… if necessary, to my dying breath.
“Our first order of business!” I threw an arm out to the crowd, beckoning with my fingers in a mock ‘come here’ gesture. “If my eyes do not deceive me, I believe I see some faces that were not here yesterday! Please, if anyone was not present at yesterday’s inventory, please raise a hoof. Don’t be shy, I won’t bite!” A beat passed, before a few hooves flew high. “Construct, count, please?” I whispered.
Only seconds elapsed before, “Seventeen, First Minister.”
“Thank you.” The hooves went back down. “To those who have raised your hooves, please make your way to the side of the platform, so that I may note down your information for the registry.”
The ponies in question were terribly hesitant, heads turned downwards and eyes shifting around, though eventually they were, indeed, all in a group, a few metres down and to my right. I turned back to the main group.
“To the rest of you, our second order of business.” I sighed. This was going to make or break us. I had to be absolutely certain of what I was about to say. “I will be absolutely, unreservedly honest with all of you. When I arrived here, after the announcement at the Summer Sun Celebration, I did not expect to see five hundred ponies at my doorstep. Perhaps I was naïve to have not foreseen so many in need, but I know I was not prepared for it.
“I won’t lie. The next few weeks and months will be difficult. We do not have enough food, nor enough housing, for a hundred souls, let alone five. The problems we now face are myriad. They will push us – all of us – to our limits. Perhaps, in the end, they will prove to be insurmountable. The reality that lies ahead of us is extreme rationing and cramped quarters, under chaotic weather, in an area of Equus that is almost inhospitable to the common pony. If any of you, at any point now or in the future, choose to cut your losses and return to Equestria, I will not begrudge you for doing so.”
I ignored the jab at my leg from Construct, as well as her pointed whispering about doom and gloom. “I cannot promise it will be easy,” I continued, not missing a beat. “I cannot promise a magic wand to wave away all your troubles. All I can promise you, in fact, is blood, toil, tears, and sweat.” I paused to inhale, holding it for just a touch longer than usual. “For all that I have done, I am still only one man. I cannot do this single-handedly. I may have begun this project, but it will have to be us – all of us – that will finish it. The road will be long and difficult, make no mistake, but at its conclusion is everything that you could possibly have asked, hoped, prayed for, and more. What say you, ponies?”
Instantly, an exultant cheer blasted out from the crowd. It seemed I’d pulled off the rousing speech pretty bloody effectively. Huh. Turns out I can pull speeches out of my arse too… oh Christ, I really am a politician now, aren’t I? I pushed that thought away and raised my hands in the air, gesturing for silence – which took a rather long time to happen. It looked like morale wasn’t likely to be a problem… for today, at the very least. Thanks, Churchill.
“That brings me to our third order of business. Our current labour force consists of two dozen workponies – far too few to bring us all through to even the next autumn. I’ve laid the foundations of the Free State for you – now, it’s up to you to build the community on them. Every pony with a talent for construction, woodworking, or carpentry – either from a cutie mark or by acquired skill – form up in a group there, please.” I indicated a vague area, off some distance past the first group waiting to be registered. Ponies immediately broke ranks from the mass, making their way over.
There were… surprisingly many of them; I’d expected maybe another dozen or two, but it looked more like a full tenth were handy ponies. “Not you, just yet,” I called, seeing one of the seventeen beginning to trot off towards them. “I still need to get you on the books, please.” They dutifully returned to their group, looking sheepish. “Next, every pony with a talent for farming or gardening, in a group please.” This time, there were only a few – less than twenty. Piss. The one group that needs to be as big as possible, naturally. “Thank you kindly.
“Now, as for the rest of you.” I paused for effect, seeing a few of the remnants shuffle their hooves – either in shame or anxiety, I couldn’t really tell from here. “You have one of two options. Option one: pick one of the two groups to join, and they will teach you as much as possible about your chosen vocation, so that you may contribute to your community directly. Option two: stay where you are, and join the unskilled labour brigade, to help those that do so. Of course, you do have the option to choose neither and sit on your arses all day, but… those not doing useful work will be first on my chopping block in regards to food rationing. Make your choice accordingly.”
Urgh. I rubbed at my throat, feeling the first specks of soreness growing in it like a fungus. Too much bloody talking. “Thank you kindly for your co-operation. Let’s make this world a brighter place.” It wasn’t the best way I could have ended that speech, but I couldn’t really give a toss. Cheers rang out for it anyway, so I figured I must have done something right. I glanced at Construct, who nodded at me.
“Alrighty,” I called out, quieting the now-restless crowd once more. “I’ll now hand you over to Sturdy Construct. She’ll be the one overseeing your work here. Do as she tells you to.” I tilted my head downwards slightly, staring out at the crowd from under my eyebrows. “If you fuck with her, or with me, I’ll know. And I will make you regret it personally.” I held my gaze for a few more moments, before gesturing to the crowd for Construct. “All yours,” I told her. “I’ll report to you later for my own assignment, yeah? In case nothing else comes up, I mean.”
“As you wish, First Minister,” she acknowledged, stepping down the stairs to make her way over to the crowd personally. As for myself, I had ponies to register.
“Now, where’d I put my quill…?” I muttered, patting my pockets down in search of it. A parchment was already in my hands as I strode over to the group of newcomers, and welcomed them to the Free State.
First Minister’s work is never done, I mused, beginning to write names down. Never, ever.
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I expected there to be more foals and definitely families as well. Maybe, there’s going to be even more coming soon?
Cool newspaper 🗞️ stories you did there. Kind of shows some interesting issues that might not been talked about by other news outlets or elite since it would make certain ponies embarrass by mistakes that they made or not wanting to fix problems that they caused. I definitely would believe any fund raising from taxes isn’t going to really help their nation like say US has issues with my government doing bills that don’t really benefit the American people rather their own pockets…
Can’t wait for more orphans to show up and fill the whole house.
Getting two updates is very cool! I want more newspaper 🗞️
Edit: I completely forgot! Isn’t it very dangerous for orphans to be sent alone to the free state??? It’s amazing that so far just two orphans made it but was there more that got lost or worst? That’s a whole nightmare for Equestria to be responsible for lost orphans due to being not properly sent safely towards the detonation…
So a man named Adam says:
Hmm sure gets the noggin joggin
No matter how much Adam thinks he's in over his head, he needs to remember he's not alone. He has Blueblood (as loathe I am to admit it) and Construct to help him build his nation, even if they question his methods, they will still follow through with his vision.
But most of all he has Lyra for support. Before all this, she had nothing. No family, no home, no friends, and no hope, but out of the kindness of his heart, he gave her a bed, a roof, food, and best of all, hope. And in return, when the weight of his responsibility finally came down on him and he began doubting himself, she pulled him out of the pit and reminded him why he did all this, to give these ponies hope of a better life like he has given her and no doubt she will be there with him every step of the way, even if (hypothetically IF) his vision fails and he's left with nothing.
Well, you really got my attention, even though the audience is small, I'm looking forward to continuing... It's a pity that people don't notice good and interesting stories when they pass them by. And only a few notice this, and their numbers are very few.
You really captured the feelings of acute hopelessness, despair brought upon of by the belief of carrying the entire world on solely your own shoulders. The shame of contemplating calling it quits... And then the rekindling of resolve from another's encouragement. Excellently written.
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It's getting enough traffic to end up on the Popular list when it updates, so hopefully as it goes along more people will notice and follow.
And so, the struggle begins for the Free State. I have my full confidence in Adam to make this work. Truly.
Again, the story is just great. The whole situation is very similar to the first months of the existence of the Soviet Russian Republic in 1917. After the fall of a mediocre and rotten monarchy, a simple norod received hope for a better world. And then they urgently solved the problems of housing, hunger and the existence of the state as a whole.
It is also interesting whether there will be thestrals in history, because after the imprisonment of the Moon, they could become the most deprived and rejected in Equestria.
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Those lucky navigationally challenged fools!
Sorry, I couldn't resist. That would be one way to hide the orphan problem though I guess.
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You know that monarchy fell more than year before that? And parlaiment establishment existed for several 4-year paces before that after first crise (often called "the first revolution"). WWI had caused empire collapse not once, but four times in row, politically and economically.