Station Thirteen

by Jarvy Jared

Chapter Four

Cypress would have liked to continue investigating, but then his supervisor sent a communication informing him that a package of fresh reports was coming; they would need to be sorted post-haste. Never mind that she had already set him on this first task—whatever summit she was attending had yielded results, and she needed all hooves on deck processing what she sent. Indeed, as soon as he’d read that message, another notification arrived, telling him that several packages were waiting him in the mailroom.

Shifting from one sub-task to another and watching as more packet receipts materialized into existence before him, Cypress felt like a hopelessly abused worker ant laboring for the unseen queen, and more than once had to resist the urge to flush each order—or himself—down the drain. By the time he had sorted everything, hours had passed since he’d been in the storeroom. He cursed to himself and sprinted from the mailroom to Logistics, too desperate to care about the confused looks from the other workers. When, at the end of the dank corridor, he came to the door, it was closed; but, he couldn’t remember if he’d closed it the last time. He tried to dredge up some degree of calm, and, his breathing labored and his heart beating a drum-fill in his chest, opened the door.

The same room greeted him, one as curiously devoid of dust as before. Baffled by the sight, he cautiously wormed around the boxes and shelves. The ones he’d checked before he’d gone to get lunch were on the floor, apparently in the same positions he’d left them. He checked them; checked and re-checked them; then combed through the other shelves and boxes, repeating the same tired process he’d performed that very morning with the desperation of a drowning stallion. Sheer will, forged in the fires of bewilderment, prevented him from checking them again.

“Nothing?” he whispered.

It was true. Aside from the four boxes which he’d already turned over, no more supplies had been stolen. The thief had not returned. He still had a chance to capture them.

With a sigh, Cypress sank to the floor, confused laughter bubbling up inside him. Celestia above, he was going to quit after this, he thought; all this stress over a phantom thief who was probably just as dumb as he was.

“Huh. Reverie and relief. Tastes kinda funny.”

Cypress yelped and spun around. “Wha—hey, you can’t be back here!”

Kai stood in the doorway, smiling a little. “The door was open, though,” they said. .

“That still doesn’t mean you can waltz in here! You, uh, don’t have the clearance!”

“By the looks of it, I’m not the only one.”

Cypress made a strange noise—half-strangle, half-shout. Kai closed the door behind them, scanning the storeroom’s shelves and boxes. The door closing sent a few sheets of paper flying. Cypress grabbed them in his magic, but Kai simply looked at them lazily.

“Regardless,” Cypress said, attempting to sound a little like Peppy, “this is for Logistics personnel only, so I would appreciate it, Kai, if you would please leave.”

“Sure. So long as I can talk to your cousin about those components they don’t know anything about.”

With a slight hiss, Cypress’s magic fizzled out, and the papers fell to the floor. He turned slowly to find Kai staring a little smugly at him.

“What are you talking about?” Cypress asked weakly.

“It was a valiant effort, but lying to a Changeling isn’t so simple. I could practically taste you lying the moment you tried feeding me that story about your cousin. No offense, but you kirins aren’t all that great at hiding your emotions.” Kai looked around again, as though distracted. “I’d wager that the truth of the matter has something to do the appearance of this storeroom. As well as whatever has you feeling such contradictory emotions.”

They nudged one of the boxes with their hoof. “This one interests me. You can tell it’s missing a few supplies. By the looks of it, they’d be the same ones you said your cousin had questions about. And those”—here, Kai nodded at the other three boxes—“are probably the same, yes? And based on your reaction, these boxes shouldn’t be missing anything in the first place.”

Cypress said nothing, but flicked his tail.

“Obviously, your cousin, if they do or don’t exist, isn’t interested in using these components for anything. But somepony is. Somepony that… shouldn’t be, is that correct?” Kai looked at Cypress. “So why are they interested in the first place?”

Cypress sighed. “That’s what I was asking around for.”

“So I gathered.” There wasn’t any judgment in Kai’s voice, just curiosity. “Would you mind telling me about what’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

Cypress hesitated. “I can at least tell you, I had nothing to do with this,” Kai said. “I’ve been here only two weeks and have never gone into Logistics before. The only reason I found this place was by following you.”

That much, Cypress could figure out for himself; plus, as far as he could recall, he really had never seen Kai before. Looking at them, he didn’t think they were lying, nor that they had any reason to lie. Their face shone with a sincerity he’d seldom seen in the faces of his coworkers, the ones who offered him only polite, distant nods and appraisals.

Cypress sucked in a breath, steadying himself. “All right, so… here’s what happened.”

Comments

[Bicyclette]

“It was a valiant effort, but lying to a Changeling isn’t so simple. I could practically taste you lying the moment you tried feeding me that story about your cousin. No offense, but you kirins aren’t all that great at hiding your emotions.”

ehehe, that does make too much sense as exactly how a kirin trying to deceive a changeling would go

[redmar]

I called it that Kai knew he was lying.