Solitaire

by Acologic

Chapter VI

‘Private Ivy?’ Honey had pushed her way through a small crowd to reach the inner circle, who had been babbling about the world’s ills and the significance of the colours on Princess Celestia’s battle-dress.

‘Just Ivy’s fine,’ called Ivy, smiling at Honey. ‘Private makes me sound mysterious. I’m an open book, honest.’

‘Good,’ said Honey once the giggling died down. ‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion. I’d like to speak with you – in private.’

‘The private private!’ said Ivy, grinning as her friends spluttered with laughter. ‘That’s me!’

Honey beckoned her, and together they walked toward the mouth of the cave. At first, Honey walked in silence, but Ivy was full of words. ‘You have a very nice mane, Major,’ she said, beaming at it. ‘Those lighter bits, like highlights – is that your natural colour?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, it’s lovely! I see you’re using the wax too, but I can’t stand the stuff, because my hair’s very coarse, so it forms little pieces of residue. It looks like I haven’t washed.’ She dragged a hoof quickly through her mane. ‘There, see? Oh, no. Ah. There.’ She showed Honey her hoof. Honey stared and said nothing. Ivy continued. ‘You said your name was Honey? Isn’t that funny! I was speaking with Sergeant Smoothtooth a while ago, and he mentioned a Honey! It isn’t quite so common, though – strange, because I think it’s quite lovely. And a good name for a mare, although it’s considered neutral, isn’t it? But I couldn’t call a stallion “Honey”. It’s too – sticky. Too sweet for a stallion.’ She laughed as they exited the cave. ‘But Honey was sour,’ she went on, smiling. ‘Smoothtooth’s Honey was, so he said. Sour Honey. Isn’t that funny? Sour Honey!’

‘Sour,’ muttered Honey. ‘I’m sure she was.’

‘Maybe there’s a sweet-and-sour Honey too,’ chuckled Ivy.

‘Maybe.’

‘I haven’t eaten honey in years,’ Ivy rambled. ‘I’m not sure they even produce it anymore. No, they must – because the rich ponies always eat well, don’t they? So, they probably have all the honey – the sour, the sticky, the sweet and the –’

‘Private Ivy,’ said Honey. They had reached the same fissure inside which Masterduke had first mentioned Solitaire. Ivy found her bearing.

‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘I’m going to ask you some questions.’

Ivy’s face was blank. ‘OK,’ she said. Honey paused, eyeing her. She did not speak. Ivy started to smile but caught the corners of her mouth.

‘Who is Solitaire?’ asked Honey eventually. Ivy’s face lit up and her composure broke.

‘Solitaire!’ she gushed. ‘You want to know about Solitaire?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s why you’re here, then! To find out about him! Ah! Ah!’ She raised a hoof and knocked herself on the side of the head. ‘Not him! Her!’ she said, nodding quickly and grinning. ‘Her, Major, her! I’ve said it. I’m sticking to it. Solitaire is a mare! There’s no doubt.’

Honey blinked. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, it’s so tedious, that everyone’s always saying “he!”, “he!” Why “he”? No one knows for certain! And mares are much better at magic in general. And it makes more sense too. A stallion could never abide all the cloak-and-dagger. Eh, Major?’ She grinned knowingly at Honey, who frowned. ‘No, I keep saying it,’ said Ivy. ‘A stallion would have to do what, ma’am?’

‘What?’

Ivy stomped triumphantly. ‘Take the credit!’

‘How do you know Solitaire is a mare?’ asked Honey.

‘Well, I don’t know –’

‘Then everything you’ve just told me is speculation merely.’

Ivy looked taken aback. ‘You don’t have to cut it down like that, ma’am! Of course, I can’t say any of it for certain, but that’s because Solitaire’s more than just a pony down the road, isn’t she? She’s like – a symbol.’

‘Please tell me only what you know from now on,’ said Honey.

‘Oh,’ said Ivy. Her face fell. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

‘Who is Solitaire?’

‘Well, she’s –’ Ivy hesitated. ‘I don’t really know, ma’am,’ she said.

‘When did you first hear the name “Solitaire”?’

Ivy snorted and quickly stopped herself with a hoof to the mouth. ‘Sorry, ma’am, it just seems funny. It was right here, ma’am, where we’re standing.’

‘Yes?’

‘And it was the same day Sergeant Smoothtooth talked about sour Hon—’ Her eyes widened and darted to the Major. ‘First Intelligence Battalion?’ she squeaked.

Honey met her gaze. ‘Stay on track, please,’ she said. Blushing deeply, Ivy continued.

‘Erm, w-well, it was Major Masterduke who had seen her – I mean, Solitaire – and –’

‘Yes,’ said Honey. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D.’

‘That’s right,’ stammered Ivy, still recovering.

‘Tell me exactly what he told you,’ prompted Honey. ‘If you can,’ she added more gently, watching Ivy flounder.

‘Erm, well – let me think,’ said Ivy, shaking her head. ‘Sorry. Yes. Yes, I remember. He said that he was – oh, that really was strange, wasn’t it?’ she muttered, frowning. Honey waited. ‘He said that he’d come here looking for Solitaire.’

Honey tilted her head. ‘Why was it strange?’

‘It felt strange,’ said Ivy. ‘Something about it all, in hindsight – now that we’ve been speaking about Solitaire. For some reason, I never thought back. But it didn’t feel right. Major Masterduke talked a lot about Solitaire,’ she said, frowning hard, ‘yet he’s never mentioned her – him or her – since.’

‘How do you know that?’

Ivy’s smile returned swiftly. ‘I’ve been speaking about Solitaire a lot. I speak about a lot of things a lot, so I know how it is, and it was definitely strange – because Major Masterduke is nothing like me, ma’am. And yet – he was,’ she sighed, ‘I don’t know, speaking like me? Does that make sense?’

Honey watched her closely. ‘Do you mean to say he was dissembling?’ Ivy blushed again. ‘Was he pretending?’ added Honey quickly. Ivy swallowed and nodded.

‘It felt like that. Well,’ she said, grimacing. There was a pause. ‘Performing,’ she finished. ‘That’s the word I’d use. It seemed like he was performing.’

‘What did he say about Solitaire?’ asked Honey.

‘Quite a bit,’ said Ivy. ‘That she was maybe a soldier. That she was living out here, on the dunes. That he wanted to meet her. That she was some sort of secret in the spellmaking industry.’

‘That’s very interesting,’ said Honey. Ivy’s eyes flicked back to Honey’s.

‘Is it?’

‘Yes,’ said Honey. She looked over both of her shoulders, then focused on Ivy. ‘I’m going to let you in on a secret,’ she said quietly. Ivy’s eyes bulged.

‘What secret, ma’am?’ she breathed.

‘Between the two of us only,’ said Honey, stepping closer. Ivy nodded at once.

‘Yes, of course,’ she whispered, trembling slightly. Honey paused.

‘Solitaire is either the best-kept secret Equestria has ever seen, or Solitaire doesn’t exist at all – because we checked. The First Intelligence Battalion checked.’

Ivy’s eyes popped. ‘You did?’

‘We did.’

‘And you didn’t find anything?’ she said, her voice quivering with excitement.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ said Honey. ‘Doesn’t that make you wonder?’

‘It does!’ said Ivy. ‘So, does that mean Major Masterduke was lying?’

‘Do you think he was?’

‘I think he was!’ squeaked Ivy. She was walking on the spot. ‘So, Solitaire didn’t stop the thralls? Major Masterduke made it up?’

‘What do you think?’ asked Honey.

‘Well, if he made it up, why? Was he trying to boost morale?’

‘Do you think he could have been lying about all of it?’ asked Honey. Ivy frowned.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Say not only did Solitaire not interfere – but the thralls did not stop at all.’

‘No, the thralls definitely stopped,’ said Ivy, ‘because that’s how they all got away.’

‘You weren’t there, were you?’

‘I was on-duty but with a different squad.’

‘So, you saw none of the events take place.’

‘None,’ said Ivy.

‘What I mean to say,’ said Honey, ‘is what if the thralls did not stop on our account? That is, they stopped anyway, and Major Masterduke has taken advantage of that fact.’

Ivy placed a shaking hoof to her chattering teeth. ‘Why would Major Masterduke lie?’ she said, wide-eyed.

‘Alternatively,’ said Honey, ‘what if Major Masterduke stopped the thralls himself?’

‘My, do you think he could have?’ said Ivy, looking at her. Honey shrugged.

‘I don’t know. Do you think he could have?’

‘Yes!’ said Ivy. ‘Absolutely, because he stopped three Sombre Officers by himself that very same night!’

Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘Captain Meadow’s report did not mention that,’ she muttered.

‘Well, it happened!’ said Ivy. ‘Ask Starburst! That’s how they got away. Major Masterduke went for a walk, which he shouldn’t have done, and they ran into them – and they got away because he blasted them with one of his spells.’

Honey’s hoof shook for a second. Her lip twitched. ‘Did he, indeed,’ she whispered.

‘What I don’t understand,’ Ivy was saying, ‘is what Major Masterduke would gain by lying. I mean, it’s like I said!’ She stomped. ‘If he did stop them, I’d say he’d want the credit!’

‘This stays between us,’ said Honey. Ivy stopped to look at her.

‘I understand, ma’am.’

‘I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and hear the regiment talking about Major Masterduke.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I won’t tell anyone.’

‘Thank you – Ivy,’ said Honey, and she smiled. Ivy stood to attention and saluted shakily, her eyes dancing. ‘You may go now.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’

Honey watched Ivy walk into the mouth of the cave. She inhaled deeply and sighed. ‘She won’t tell them all,’ she said, ‘but she might tell one or two. And that would be enough to put pressure on “Solitaire”.’ She snorted at the name. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D, the disingenuous spellmaker who talks of genius and legends and secrets, who sneers at the lay, reports to no one, stinks of deception and sits at the end of every road of inquiry, with a disdain for authority and an ego the size of a regiment –’ She snorted again. ‘If he isn’t our pony, I’ll donate my lungs.’

---

A ladle of stew dropped into Starburst’s tin. He nodded to the cooks and walked back to his tent, slowing as he neared. Waiting next to the canvas was Major Honey. ‘Can I help?’ asked Starburst, drawing closer.

‘Are you Private Starburst?’ she asked. Starburst nodded. ‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion.’ Starburst met her eye. He opened his mouth, closed it and worked it.

‘Major?’ he said.

‘What can you tell me about Solitaire?’ asked Honey. Starburst neither replied nor moved. Honey watched him. Starburst watched her.

‘I don’t know anything,’ he said.

‘Really?’ said Honey. ‘I was under the impression that the regiment speaks of little else.’

‘Flanks,’ snorted Starburst, rolling his eyes, ‘that’s true, and make no mistake. But I don’t know anything about him –’ He fixed her with a gaze. ‘Because it’s all waffle, what they say,’ he finished.

‘Yes,’ said Honey. ‘I see that. In any case –’ She pointed at Starburst’s tin. ‘I’ll come back later, once you’ve eaten.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Starburst. Honey walked away, farther into the cave. Starburst did not start on his food until she had vanished from sight. A second interruption came soon enough – Masterduke, clutching his own tin as though it were armour. He looked around, then sat beside Starburst on his mat, grunting as he lowered himself. Starburst scowled.

‘That was her,’ breathed Masterduke. ‘She asked you about me, didn’t she? About Solitaire.’

‘She asked about Solitaire,’ said Starburst.

‘We have to be very careful,’ muttered Masterduke. ‘You have to act naturally. When she comes back, don’t say any more than you have to. It’s straightforward enough. Just keep calm, and –’

‘Can you just shut up and let me eat?’

‘The sooner you let me finish the sooner you’ll be rid of me!’ hissed Masterduke. ‘These are key moments here! Honey’s sniffing for evidence, but she won’t find any if we keep our heads! Except for me and you, no one knows anything. Without anything from us, she can only suspect. Stay calm, Starburst, and buy us time to plan our next –’

‘“Our” next move,’ growled Starburst. ‘This is getting ridiculous. I’ve a good mind just to –’ He slammed a hoof into his mat, spilling some of his soup. Masterduke frowned down at the stain, then up at Starburst. Starburst set aside his tin and worked his mouth. ‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘you were right in the first place. Maybe the best thing to do is to teach everyone your spell. That solves this Solitaire nonsense. You get to show everyone how clever you are,’ he spat, ‘and who knows? Maybe an advance on Sombra will work.’

Masterduke stared at Starburst. Starburst glared back. ‘But you won’t want to go back to that,’ he said, ‘and I can guess why. Because it means owning up as a liar and an egotist – and it might not work, anyway – and it paints a target on your back.’ Masterduke said nothing. ‘You won’t be casting that spell any time soon,’ continued Starburst, ‘because the heat’s on you for Solitaire, so there goes using it for anyone’s idea of good – and,’ he added, ‘you’re probably bricking it because you’re worried I’ll sell you out to Honey. So, how about we call it quits instead? You don’t have to own up. Just give it up.’

‘Give it up. Pretend the spell – my spell – doesn’t exist,’ said Masterduke, licking his teeth, ‘and never did. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

Starburst nodded. ‘But that’s just weakness from me, as you’d call it. You should be owning up. You should be teaching everyone the spell. It’s bothering me all the time now.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Maybe I should have encouraged you earlier, on the dunes, before you came out with “Solitaire”. And we’d all be patting you on the back for a spell well done. You’d have been happier.’ Starburst sighed again. ‘I should tell Honey.’

‘You promi—!’

‘Flanks, I know I did – but so did you.’ Starburst picked up his tin and resumed eating. ‘Just remember your side of it. You’re going to help ponies from now on.’

‘But Solitaire is a great idea,’ said Masterduke. ‘You’ve seen how well the regiment has responded to him.’ He grinned. ‘He’s a shield to his maker. He’s hope to his believers. What if Solitaire is the best way to help ponies?’

‘I don’t want to hear any more waffle about how great you could be,’ said Starburst.

‘Then what if I made you another promise – right here, right now – that I will agree to forgo both the spell and Solitaire if I can’t make them work for us?’

‘For you, you mean.’

‘No! For us! For you! If Solitaire proves to be a dead end, I promise you I’ll turn around.’

‘And what’s my side, then?’

Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘You leave me to sell a lot of lies,’ he said, ‘because, to make it work, I’m going to have to rely on many more.’

Starburst worked his mouth. ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s right.’

‘“Right”,’ sneered Masterduke. ‘You’re still behaving like a child, focused on the niceties. Think of the greater good.’

‘You have the nerve to cite “the greater good” to me,’ said Starburst quietly, ‘after all you’ve said and done. Take my advice and shut up before I start playing by your rules.’ Starburst picked up his tin, got to his hooves and left Masterduke beneath the canvas. Masterduke scowled. His hoof thudded into the mat.

‘Go, then! Tell everyone!’ he hissed. ‘Do it for me! So leaves one of us forever – my weakness or myself.’

---

‘So, you’re back,’ grunted Lance Corporal Sweet as he dropped his salute. Honey nodded.

‘I’m back.’

‘Are you staying?’

‘No.’

‘I thought so.’

‘Then why ask?’

‘That’s how small talk works.’

Honey nodded again. ‘I suppose.’

‘So,’ said Sweet. ‘It’s about Solitaire.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘The company’s been talking about you,’ said Sweet. ‘About all your questions.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘No.’

Honey watched him. Their eyes met and stuck to each other like glue. Sweet did not blink. Neither did Honey. ‘And has anyone said anything interesting?’ she asked.

‘Interesting?’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘Has anyone said anything that you think other ponies would find interesting?’

‘Probably.’

‘Tell me the substance of what the company says about my being here. Answer me fully.’

‘Yes, ma’am. The general feeling is you’re wasting your time.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Solitaire is supposed to be out there,’ grunted Sweet. He turned and pointed toward distant, deserted rock. ‘Not here.’

‘“Supposed to be”,’ repeated Honey. ‘What do you think about that?’

‘About what?’

‘About Solitaire being “out there”.’

Sweet chuckled. ‘Solitaire’s a fairy tale.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I was there when it started,’ he said. ‘Speak to Major Masterduke.’

Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘Why?’

‘He started Solitaire – here, in the regiment, at least.’

Honey said nothing. Sweet’s face did not change. He stood still as Honey opened her mouth. ‘Tell me,’ she began, ‘everything you know about Major Masterduke – and everything that you’ve seen him do.’

‘He crafts standard-issue for the Unicorns. He’s been here five weeks and fought with us, Blue Squad, on the night he arrived. That night, I saw him climb the rise right after the thralls’ fire stopped. I asked him whether he’d stopped them, and he denied it.’

‘Do you think it was him? Did he stop the thralls?’

‘I think so.’

‘Why do you think he denied it?’

Sweet deliberated. ‘I think he wanted to tell a good story.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t know. Maybe that’s who he is.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe he likes telling good stories.’

‘What else do you know about him?’

‘He spends a lot of time working alone,’ said Sweet. ‘He’s been a liberator, I think. He said he “developed” liberation. He doesn’t mix with the regiment, although,’ he added, ‘he’ll talk to Starburst.’

‘Private Starburst?’

‘He’s the only pony I’ve seen the Major speak to privately. Ah,’ he grunted. ‘They know each other, that’s why. He was his teacher or something.’

‘Major Masterduke was Starburst’s teacher?’

‘That’s right.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘It was on the wagon,’ grunted Sweet. ‘They recognised each other.’ Honey stared.

‘When I spoke to Starburst,’ she muttered, ‘he spoke as though Major Masterduke was as new to him as he is to you.’ Sweet shrugged and remained silent. ‘Do you know anything else about him?’

‘No.’

‘What do you think of him?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Please answer me fully.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I don’t think about him. He’s just another pony. I have no proper impression of him.’

‘I don’t believe that.’ Sweet met her eye. ‘Do you feel badly toward him?’ prompted Honey. ‘Please tell me everything.’ Sweet paused, then shrugged.

‘Since you want everything – I think he’s a pony worth steering well clear of.’

‘Why?’

‘That’s what my gut says,’ answered Sweet. ‘No one in your battalion would care about what my gut says.’ He shrugged again. ‘I doubt you do, ma’am.’ He smiled slightly. ‘But I listen to it, so I’ve kept my distance from the Major.’

‘Then let me take you back to Solitaire,’ said Honey, watching him. ‘You said he was a fairy tale – Major Masterduke’s or someone else’s?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Sweet.

‘Would it surprise you if it were his?’

‘No,’ said Sweet. Honey shook her head.

‘You admit to believing that he stopped the thralls, which implies you also believe he possesses Solitaire’s abilities.’

‘No, it doesn't.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t believe he stopped them in the way he claims Solitaire did.’

Honey nodded approvingly. ‘Then how do you think he did it – if he did it?’

Sweet shrugged. ‘Don’t know. With respect, does it matter?’

‘It may be the only thing that matters,’ said Honey.

‘I don’t know if,’ grunted Sweet, ‘and I don’t know how.’

‘I see. What if I were to tell you that Major Masterduke is, in fact, Solitaire?’

Sweet frowned. ‘Are you telling me he is?’

‘No,’ said Honey, ‘I’m asking you to behave as though I have told you that he is.’

‘When you say “Solitaire”,’ asked Sweet, ‘do you mean as they talk about him or as he really is?’

Honey’s mouth twitched. ‘As he is.’

‘Then I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s just a small difference.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘Major Masterduke likes to tell a good story,’ said Sweet, ‘and, if he’s Solitaire, he gets to be its hero.’

‘So, what are you saying, ultimately?’ Sweet raised a brow. ‘Are you telling me,’ continued Honey, ‘that Major Masterduke, if he were Solitaire, came up with the story for his own gratification?’ Sweet nodded. Honey sighed. Then she asked: ‘Do you remember how Solitaire came up in conversation?’

‘What?’

‘You were there when Masterduke “started it”.’

‘Yes.’

‘So, how did he?’

‘It was right after he denied it.’

‘What?’

‘Right after I asked him whether he stopped the thralls. He said he tried to and failed. And then he saw Solitaire do it instead.’

‘Of course he did,’ said Honey quietly. ‘You were right.’ Sweet stared. ‘Thank you. You may go.’

Sweet saluted stiffly. ‘Ma’am,’ he grunted.

‘The pony to speak to,’ muttered Honey as Sweet traipsed to his tent. ‘The only pony here who could know what happened to the thralls and how. Why does a pony create an alias?’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Why does a criminal wear a mask? To be himself.’