The Conversion Bureau: Sing for the Wicked

by Microshazm

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A situation unhoofed

Chase trotted around nervously in the living room of Fiona’s spacious three-room apartment. They had stayed there for two days now and he grew more distressed every minute. Chase didn’t mind living with the girl, after all, she was a very disoriented newfoal and needed his help. But regardless of Fiona telling him that finding an abandoned apartment with working heat would be nigh impossible, he still wasn’t comfortable with the place.

First of all, it was difficult for the two earth ponies to manage anything in a typical human household. Secondly, the neighbours were all humans and Chase could swear some of them had bad intentions when it came to Equestrians.

However, this morning had put all those feelings away and yet greatly upped Chase’s level of anxiety. When Fiona would wake up, what in Equestria was he going to say to her?

The first night had been the worst for both of them. Fiona had called her closest friends and relatives and sent them tear-filled goodbyes. She had told them that she’d be moving to Equestria and that this is what made her happy. Chase had asked her – as politely and subtly as he could – why she was doing this, why she had to set up this lie. The latter question had made Fiona explode:

“Because that’s the only thing I can do! If anyone gets even the slightest fucking idea that it was us leaving the scene just thirty minutes before it exploded, we get stormed by the media and arrested. Nobody will believe anything we say ‘cause there’s no evidence and then that man will find us and finish his fucking job! The second I can walk straight, think straight and shit straight we leave to Equestria! No matter what I gotta leave behind!”

Chase had been very sorry for her, but the thought of somepony, this man, getting away with such a massacre had felt, and still did, overwhelmingly wrong.

The following day had been better. Chase had shopped for food and he had tried to cook Equestrian dishes for Fiona – most of which had failed miserably. He also had taught her to pick up and move things without fingers, the normal stuff. They even had had great laughs when Fiona had browsed through her wardrobe trying to find a single piece of clothing that would still fit her.

Chase figured Fiona must have been some kind of a collector: she had some twenty pairs of shoes, more than a dozen dresses, eight umbrellas, forty scarves and, much to Chase’s astonishment, a couple of tuxedos and a hairy jumpsuit she called Kong. All in all, it had been a much better training day than he usually had. The environment, though small, was ways less rigid.

Today they were going to leave, but after seeing the morning news, Chase couldn’t think about leaving, much less anything else. He’d been keenly following the news from the moment they had got to Fiona’s, every new story being a turn for worse.

Initially, there had been shock. The shock had been followed by a fair share of panic in other nearby Conversion Bureaus. It had faded quickly though, as the Bureaus acquired massive security measures. Meanwhile, investigations had begun at the scene.

It hadn’t taken long for the first results to get published. They had been negative in almost every possible way: no traces of explosives, no traces of any of the victims – just an empty lot with some pieces of the glass dome scattered around. Even nanoswarm speculation had to be swiftly ruled out since thousands reported seeing a bright flash and hearing an explosion, which explicitly contradicted the stealthy nature of even the most destructive nanites.

Every single human specialist was completely clueless about the nature of the explosion. Light, yes, sound, yes, but the area of effect had apparently been contained on purpose. There had been no shock wave, besides the sound, and no cloud of smoke or debris. South State Bureau simply was no more. The otherworldly mystery gave the mass of reporters abundant scoop material. It hadn’t taken long for somepony to mention ‘magic’.

That one mention alone had been enough to spark heated debates, and in a matter of hours the blast site had been scoured by a group of unicorns. The results had still been inconclusive. The unicorns were very secretive about their findings, assuming there were any, and had yet to share them with the public.

Wild mass guessing began, along with doubt and distrust. They would say those unicorns are hiding something and not telling the truth. When asked about the most likely cause, many fingers had begun pointing at ponies and their magic.

Chase had barely been able to stand all this, as he was sure the humans would back away from such a ridiculous possibility. However, the final straw was right there on the television screen.

Conversion Bureau attendance drops 60 per cent after federal authorities state they can no longer ensure the safety of those who apply. So called Equestrian magic scholars claim the establishments safe but still present no facts regarding the total annihilation of South State Conversion Bureau in Chicago that took the lives of 255 individuals...

“…of the Human Liberation Front, Frank Dunland what is your message to the unsure crowds?”

“First of all, I’m terribly sorry for everyone, who have lost their friends or loved ones in the incident, be it human or pony. Second of all, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but it was bound to happen, those things were never safe and I’m sorry this is how...”

“...was driving maybe less than 300 feet away from the building. Then, suddenly, the sky lit up, like struck by lightning, but the noise, wow, it was like a, like a bizarre roar, sure wasn’t thunder. Of course, I drove to see what was happening, and there, where the Bureau should’ve been, there was nothing, it was an empty lot. Magic? I don’t know but I’ve heard...”

...stia, the Princess of Equestria herself has been contacted. Her short statement made clear that she, while expressing her most dear condolences, doesn’t know any better than her advisers, who...

… Front member applications have increased over tenfold within the last two hours as campaign proves successful and well-timed...

On every channel, on every newsfeed it was the same. Although not entirely unfamiliar with wrath, Chase had to push himself not to go berserk.

Humans, so doubtful to good but so hasty to turn bad. Somehow they, in a brief moment of ignorance, turned to the first possible solution, whether it was the truth or not. Why didn’t the Princesses do anything about this? This was all just a trick, and they wouldn’t fall for it. That was impossible.

“Chase are you alright?” Fiona’s sudden emergence made him jump a little. How long had she been watching him?

“Not in hay," he blurted. The brick red mare stared at Chase incredulously for a reason. Seeing an Equestrian this upset would surprise anypony, even one who had always lived among them.

“I can’t just let this happen," the grey stallion said in an unintentionally bleak tone and pointed a hoof towards the television. “I’ve decided to step forward, Fiona, and you have to tell me everything you can about the man you met there. Every single detail or else they won’t believe me.”

“For fuck’s sake no! All that’s just bullshit. If you do, he’ll find us. He will–” Fiona’s voice had the same desperation Chase had heard a few times already, but he kept his cool.

“There’s my name on the disappeared list, not yours. I tell them I’m a survivor, they check the list, they listen. But they need somepony to look for, or else they’ll blame me,” Chase said calmly trying to keep Fiona from getting too dismayed. It seemed to work, at least she didn’t argue back out loud.

“And no, I can’t do it from Equestria. You humans are so impatient and to them Equestria is a fairyland. It would take weeks to get anything credible out here and that would already be too late. No human will take me seriously unless I talk to them from as close as possible.” Fiona faintly shook her head and looked at him like he had forgotten about something.

“Those few people saw us come out.” Chase couldn’t keep his facade up any longer. Why couldn’t Fiona see that they couldn’t just cover their own flanks?

“Those few people I can discredit! You humans should know all about that! Those people in the television, they say what we offer is a joke, or better yet, an enslavement deal. But if you had this situation the other way around, I bet my head on it, you’d force feed the potion to every single one of us! If you couldn’t find a reason to do so, you’d just make one up! Just like now.”

He could think of a million other hateful things about humanity and was very close to spitting them all out. Chase waited for an angry response, but instead the newfoal merely raised her brows in disbelief.

After a while of awkward silence, Fiona put on a smug face and tilted her head sideways, as if she’d been waiting for this moment.

“That’s it. No more TV for you,” Fiona said like scolding a foal. “You say we’re impatient and somehow, after two days of watching TV, you think you’ve charted this little monkey brain of ours? Are you so different Chase? I mean, where’s the humble kindness and all the love and tolerance you ponies so eagerly promote?” Two days of TV? Chase had been in that Bureau for four months! But, being honest with himself, he didn’t recall watching much news in there.
“Chase, it’s fine. If you want to sacrifice yourself for the pride of ponykind, I won’t stop
you. Just remember to make one hell of a scandal as fast as you can.” Fiona walked away to the kitchen leaving Chase more baffled than ever. After watching eight hours of human news reporting during the last two days, Chase was sure that he had a pretty good idea of how to ‘make one hell of a scandal’.

Together over breakfast, Chase and Fiona formulated a plan. At first, Chase tried to bar her involvement, but Fiona’s ‘expertise in monkey psychology’ proved too useful to ignore. They discussed who Chase should go see first, and the exact words he must use in order to gain attention.

“Although,” Fiona said, “the easiest way to get attention would be running around shouting ‘bomb’, but I think you ought to be a little more subtle than that.” They both burst into laughter, even though Chase didn’t understand Fiona’s joke. Must have been the excitement.

As exciting as this plan was, there was one part of it Chase hoped they wouldn’t have to discuss. Very soon, they’d have to part ways and Chase wasn’t sure what to think of it. They didn’t share much as individuals, but if two ponies go through the things Chase and Fiona had, should they ever separate like this? One escaping and the other doing the exact opposite? Saving each other’s lives sure had odd effects on everypony.

Stay by the blast site. Try not to get arrested no matter what. Fiona had told Chase to be a complete sell-out in order to get the media on his side. They have the power to drag almost anything through the mire, including law enforcement. But in case the media thought his arrest would net them a better story, their allegiance would quickly turn against him. He would’ve much better chances as the center of attention than in an enclosed death trap interrogation room.

Chase had taken all of Fiona’s advice seriously, and, though her claims seemed dubious at times, hadn’t yet questioned the apparent invincibility of the man who’d wounded her. Maybe the killer wasn’t literally an unstoppable monster, but Chase wasn’t going to take chances against a pulverized Bureau and the slandering of an entire species.

The Bureau that had been his home for the last four months, The Bureau that was now gone along with his friends and colleagues – everypony he knew on Earth. Nevertheless, when Chase tried to think about what had happened, everything felt somehow blurred and out of place. He could remember what he had done, like, getting the spare key from the surveillance booth by the car lot or pouring the ponification serum into human Fiona’s open wound.

However, it had proven difficult to match these memories with anything he remembered seeing. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, he could only picture the concert, the fireworks and the short man, who’d given him ‘ouzo’.

Of course, Chase had tried asking Fiona and she had loudly refused. She had her right to, but it did little help to Chase. Yet for the time being, it probably was for the best. They both had to deal with the nightmare eventually, but right now, there were other matters at hoof.

There he was, surrounded by a dozen cameras of different sizes and a tall female reporter from World Wide Broadcast or WWBC, as hundreds of labels were happy to point out. It had taken the news crew less than ten minutes to check the disappeared list and to find out that he indeed was the real deal – Fiona hadn’t praised their efficiency for nothing. The director began the countdown. Just a few seconds and Chase would be going live.

“I’m Leanne Forge, WWBC news. With us here in snowy Chicago is a confirmed survivor of the incident that happened two days earlier. Zephyr Chase why did it take you two full days to come forward?”

This was it, no turning back. Chase told the woman about the man and why he had been hiding until now. Most of it was true – a certain amount of disrespect for authorities was always liked – he only had to recount both his and Fiona’s experiences as a single one. He also wondered where they had got his full name from, but he was here to answer questions, not to ask any.

The reporter went on: “Yes, the police are struggling. How come there is so little evidence? How do we even know that the 250 people in the Bureau have definitely lost their lives?”

Chase gulped and had to delay his answer for a second. The current uncertainty meant that the families and friends of the victims hadn’t yet lost hope. To them the Bureau had only disappeared, not gone forever, and possibly to reappear at anytime. As bad as that felt, giving them false hope would only make things worse in the end. He had to crush those hopes.

Chase told that he had seen the bodies, that the kills had been done by a professional, and that he’d been lucky to escape the scene. The lack of evidence, however, was harder to explain. The killer had had time to prepare his trick, and Chase and Fiona hadn’t actually seen what he’d set up in the cafeteria kitchen. Chase didn’t want to think of it as a lie, but more an half-educated guess. If anything, the word ‘military’ was sure to incite, at least, some authorities.

The live feed was on for full fifteen minutes and they continued to record for another twenty. The reporter had gone from forensic details to inquiring about possible reasons for the attack, the motif of the killer and what kind of events would follow. Chase followed the plan and stayed neutral. It was easier than expected, for the questions didn’t go too near his commitments to Equestria and he didn’t even know ‘what action the Princesses will take’.

Finally the crew cut the interview and left Chase alone with a single camera drone hovering about. The dark, metallic disk was about one third of his size and surprisingly silent. Chase could hear and feel a small current from its propellers every time it moved, but that was all.

They told him to stay around as they’d prepare to shoot a special some time later. A special was good news, but had Chase been good enough? With the drone buzzing next to him, he was marked.

“Yeah, Mr. Chase, we’re having a lunch break and the director said that, as long as you let Skippy to tag along, you can go maybe, like, see the pony specialist group on the other side of the... y’know.” The short man shrugged and turned back to his colleagues.

Though Chase perfectly knew it was to get inside information from the ponies, the offer still was too tempting to pass. He hadn’t got much pony-to-pony interaction in a while. He trotted past the parking lot to the east of the site, where a small group of ponies was gathered around a long silver table. There were four of them: three unicorns perusing some shards of the glass dome accompanied by an apparently bored pegasus, who was flying around the scene in small circles. As expected, the sky-blue pegasus was the first to notice Chase’s approach.

“Hey, how did you get one of these?” The mare flew straight to the camera drone, barely even glancing at Chase. “I haven’t seen any this close. They don’t even let me near one. How does it even fly like that?” The pegasus tried to catch the drone and touch it, but the lightning fast machine evaded her hooves. Chase was sure he hadn’t met the pegasus before, but she looked familiar. Perhaps she’d been in the paper back in Equestria.

“Skippy’s just cautious with new acquaintances. Harass it some more and it’ll zap you.” Chase grinned as the pegasus promptly distanced herself from the drone. They were near enough the group for Chase to have a look at the three unicorns: two older, grey-haired stallions with light brown coats, brothers maybe, and a younger mare he recognized. She was Twilight Sparkle, a forerunner in the whole Conversion Bureau project, who had visited South State less than three months ago during her tour. A real celebrity and apparently a magic specialist as well.

“Hello there," Chase greeted, but the trio paid little attention to his words.

“I’m always happy to meet a new pony, but we’re very busy right now," the purple mare responded, her eyes fixed on her notebook. The grey twins just mumbled something that Chase couldn’t make out, but the pegasus rushed between him and the unicorns.

“Oh c’mon Twilight! He’s the survivor from the news!”

“Survivor?” Twilight raised her head and started instantly measuring Chase and the drone. “Of the accident?”

“Yeah, they just interviewed him over there. There was a big fuzz with lots of cameras and other stuff. He told them there was this...” Chase listened as the hyper pegasus gave a quick but accurate summary of his supposed ordeal in the Bureau that morning. Either she had just been watching television or had been eavesdropping at the scene. Chase suspected the latter.

“That, that is terrible. I’m so sorry.” The unicorn’s eyes turned to the ground. Who knows what she had had in that Bureau. Friends, lifelong acquaintances, even family members – Chase felt somewhat lucky he hadn’t known any of them for longer than four months.

“Ah, don’t worry. The mess going on right now is the worst part.” Chase said, trying to lift the overall mood. Twilight looked back at Chase again, her expression was indeed a bit brighter, but serious. “I didn’t yet introduce myself. I’m Chase.” Zephyr, he could hear the pegasus say in an amused tone. The purple mare skirted the table and moved in on Chase and the drone.

“I’m Twilight Sparkle, those two are Wiseword and Notewell and you’ve already met Rainbow Dash.” The two stallions didn’t even react, but the pegasus waved at him cheerfully. “They’re very serious about what they do," whispered Twilight and nodded back towards the table.

“Charming," Chase said with a smile.

Chase, Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash had as open a discussion as they could under the keen eye of Skippy the camera drone. They talked about this and that, the pegasus being most careless with her words and Twilight had to constantly remind her that their conversing was being recorded. Chase, of course, had his story to stick to.

Still, there was much he wanted share and much he wanted to ask, but Chase knew Twilight would have to hush about the group’s recent findings, as well as about her own opinions. Rainbow Dash, however, was very straight with her multitude of complaints.

“I’ve been on Earth a while now and there’s something bugging me every single day. The air is too thick so I can’t fly fast, the clouds here are so thin, and light, and dirty I can’t even call them clouds. But you Skippy, you’ve really made this day a whole lot better.” The two earthbound ponies laughed a little while watching the blue pegasus still trying to grab the drone that somehow managed to keep its distance.

It was, for lack of a better word, fun. No matter how the situation would unfold, Chase had now had a conversation with princess Celestia’s trusted advisor and ambassador, or actually two of them, if any of the pegasus’ ramblings held true. Nevertheless, a quarter of an hour wasn’t enough to make him forget about Fiona and why he was there.

“Uuh... Chase," began Rainbow Dash while floating a few metres above ground, head turned to the west, “the news group’s got some visitors.”

“What kind?” Chase yelled out the question to which he already knew the answer.

“Two big black cars, people in dark clothes, lots of stuff goin’ on...”

“Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash, I thank you for your time. I bet they want me there, so I have to go," Chase said, trying to be calm. The unicorn’s expression was suddenly worried, but Chase didn’t let her talk. “A pleasure meeting you all. I hope we see again.”

Chase hurried through the blast site; the camera drone still following him. Goodbye Skippy! He could hear the pegasus’ joking shout coming from behind but shrugged it off. It was ‘the feds’ and there would be no joking with them.

Chase arrived at the scene. There were four dark suited humans waiting for him, though they let him approach them on his own.

“Zephyr Chase?” Asked a brown woman with short hair, when Chase was less than three metres away. His heartbeat mounted, but he stuck to the plan.

“Am I a suspect? Because we ponies have rights too.”

“Not a suspect," the woman answered and walked next to Chase, “but based on what you said, we can hold and interrogate you just fine. Now, in the back of the van, or we’ll make you.” Chase cringed at the sight of the shiny black vehicle with its back doors opened. How did it come to this so fast? The news crew should’ve covered him!

The woman led him into the small, dark space and said, as if she’d read his mind: “Nice try though, getting the media all over you, but a lot of folk has died Mr. Chase. Besides, if what you say is true, it’s only better that we, the real authorities, get the information from you and not from the news. And by the way, thanks to all those hero cop shows, our public image is rock solid.” She smiled wryly and closed the doors leaving Chase sitting on a hard, colorless rug. A joke or not, the media part of the plan had failed.

Or had it? After half a minute in the van, Chase spotted something familiar. Floating on the other side of a window was Skippy that still filmed him. The machine looked positive, although Chase might have misplaced the term a bit. Maybe it could help, it could have some additional hidden functions, in case it would need to break in or out of something.

“Skippy! Get help!” Chase screamed to no avail – guess it wasn’t much of a helper. He could hear voices coming from outside. The feds and the news crew weren’t very subtle with the situation.

“Don’t you have any decency?”

“Get that camera off the pony!”

“Mr. Chase is our interviewee. We’re about to interview him! You can’t do this!”

“We can and we will. Now get it off! Or do you want to interview him in the van?”

And there, the last, foolish glimpse of hope was gone.

Comments

[Cloudhammer]

A good start, tracking for now to see what comes next.

I'm not sure if it's from the text editor you're using or not, but some of your spacing was a little off in a couple places.

[ray10k]

I see this has been trolled to a low score. Here, take these five, well-earned stars!