> Gadget's Gift: A Hearth's Warming Tale > by The Hat Man > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Gadget's Gift > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The light through the window shining on her face woke her before her alarm did. Just the same, she sat up in bed with the utmost reluctance and rubbed her eyes as she let out a long yawn. Smacking her lips, she looked at her alarm clock on the small table next to her bed and saw that it was only five minutes until she’d have to get up anyway. Might as well get up and get moving, she said to herself, and pushed off the heavy covers. She shivered once the covers were off. She’d been used to running her heater on low at night in the winter back in Vanhoover, relying on the heavy covers to keep her warm. But the cold in Manehattan was something else entirely. It was freezing cold and windy, and the pegasi brought the first snow two months ago, just after Nightmare Night. She looked over to her desk. It was all a blur of differently colored blobs until she squinted and found her red-rimmed spectacles and placed them on her muzzle. Then she took another look at the desk. It was filled with sketches and notes and books she’d borrowed from the library as well as her tools. They were right where she’d left them. Above the desk was a wall calendar. She looked at the date: Twelfth Moon, 23rd day, 999 CYP. Two days left until Hearth’s Warming. And on the corner of the desk, she saw the opened letter that she’d stuffed back into the envelope with her name on it. She’d need to respond to it soon, she supposed, but at the rate her work was going… Tonight, she told herself. I’ll give Mama and Papa an answer by tonight. I’ll know by then. She went to the bathroom and stood on her hind legs, balancing herself by placing her forelegs on the rim of the sink, and looked in the mirror. A young earth pony mare with a cream-colored coat and a dark brown mane stared back at her. She giggled to herself, seeing how messy her mane was. It was completely flat on one side and stuck out in a mass of cowlicks on the the other side. Her little brother would probably have laughed at how silly she looked if he’d been there. She paused at that thought, blinking at her reflection. If Fall Leaf were here… I haven’t seen him since I left home a few months ago… The alarm clock came to life, its loud, sudden ringing causing her to squeal in surprise, and she scrambled back across her apartment to the bedroom to shut it off. She heaved a sigh. Come on, Gadget, she told herself, you need to get moving. You’ve got a job to do. She trotted back to the bathroom. She started the shower and, once it was nice and hot, got inside. She let out a contented moan as the hot water poured down over her, drenching her messy mane and running down her neck and along the length of her body. It was so relaxing that she simply stood there for several long moments letting her mind wander. Reduce stopping time… no more chains… continuous system… the accident… vacuums no good… the accident… 800 meters minimum… all those ponies… thicker pads… the accident… She opened her eyes. There was work to be done. After she’d finished her shower and made a simple breakfast of oatmeal and jam on toast, she went back to her bedroom closet to get dressed. But this particular article of clothing was unlike any other. Sitting there, propped up against the back wall of her closet was a device, a harness with a series of curving metal bands. The back was a flat, metallic box with two holes on either side. Placed nearby were four long, segmented mechanical arms. She attached them, plugging them into the holes in the device, and heaved it onto herself. She pressed a small button just above her shoulder. She grit her teeth as the harness activated, and the round bands clamped down around her barrel. It only stung for a second, but then she felt her earth pony magic channeling into the device as the arms came to life and rose up. She was an engineer now, but to get recognized at her age, she’d spent two long years designing the machine and training her body to use it. There were plenty of earth pony engineers to be sure, but unicorns outnumbered them by a factor of ten; working with delicate machinery needed the kind of precision only unicorn magic could produce. Hooves were too unwieldy. But with her mechanical appendages, she had an edge. She put on her favorite black jacket, slipping her forelegs through the sleeves and the mechanical arms around the sides and back. Two of her hands began gathering her things on her desk and packed them neatly into her briefcase while another pair of hands tied a scarf around her neck. She then took one last look at herself in the mirror, smiling with satisfaction at her appearance, and then went to the front door of her small apartment, opening it wide as she stepped out into the world. It was time to go to work. She would not be late; she would not let Mr. Vanderbull down. *** Cornelius Vanderbull exited his carriage, raising his arm to shield his face from the stinging cold winter wind. He nodded to his driver, who took off as he made his way up the stairs to the building that bore his name: Vanderbull Industries and Railroad Company. It was a massive edifice on the outskirts of Manehattan; a broad, rectangular building ten stories tall. Looming white statues of mythological figures and towering columns lined the stairs leading up to the main entrance. No less impressive to the ponies who surrounded him was Vanderbull himself. He was, after all, the most prominent minotaur in Equestria. For many ponies, to see any minotaur at all was a rarity, but even the employees he saw every day looked up to him… literally, for he towered above his equine assistants, dressed in his finest suit, complete with a vest, tie, and breeches. Still, despite his imposing appearance and occasional gruffness, Vanderbull was the very picture of a gentlecolt. “Good morning, Miss Touch Type,” he said to the front receptionist, smiling at her as he brushed the snow from his sleeves. “Good morning, sir!” she said, greeting him with a broad smile. “Sir, your secretary says she’s received another telegram from Mr. Rockefoaler, and it’s on your desk.” His smile faltered. “Why am I not surprised?” he grumbled. “In for another fight, sir?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “With Rockefoaler? Always.” He chuckled and made his way inside, but paused briefly. “Oh, and will you be at the Hearth’s Warming Eve party tomorrow evening?” “Of course, sir!” she said, grinning broadly. “Well, I imagine a certain Mr. Hay Toss will be glad to hear that,” he said with a wink. She giggled nervously, her cheeks flushing. “Oh, sir, I… is it that obvious?” she asked. He let out a hearty laugh. “As the horns atop my head! Have a happy Hearth’s Warming, young lady.” “And you too, sir!” she said, waving as he went past her. He made similar brief stops as he made his way through the hallway. He’d just come from a morning meeting with the stationmaster at Grand Central Depot, and he knew there’d be more work for him once he reached his office, but in the meantime, he was content to take his time and check in on his employees as they did their morning work. When he’d first come to Equestria decades ago, the holiday of Hearth’s Warming had baffled him. So much fuss, so many gifts, not to mention the ostentatious feasts and the fact that many of them completely stopped working for several days. It was unproductive and overly sentimental, much like ponies themselves. But over the years from his early days working on steamboats to his current role as the head of the largest railroad company in Equestria, he’d grown to appreciate the holiday. The more friends he’d made along the way, the more he’d learned to appreciate them, and sometimes a little revelry and celebration was the best way to focus on that. And that was why, for the last twenty years since this building had opened, he’d held a massive Hearth’s Warming party for all his employees. It was all very unproductive and sentimental, of course… just the way he liked it. When he reached the 5th floor, he stepped out into the expansive main room of the Research and Development Department. In addition to the railroad business, Vanderbull was keen on expanding the business to include technology of all sorts. And it was in the R&D Department where some of the finest minds in Equestria worked to design, build, and test that technology. “Morning, Commodore!” said Monkey Wrench, the earth pony department head, calling Vanderbull by his old nickname. “Ah, good morning!” Vanderbull exclaimed, greeting him warmly. “Don’t mind me, everypony, I’m just stopping by to say hello and take a quick peek at what you’ve all been working on.” The various ponies gathered at their desks and workbenches looked up and waved to him as well. In the open-floor room, they were free to move around and work in groups on whatever project most took their fancy, provided there wasn’t some specific project Vanderbull had given them. For the moment, however, their time was their own; Vanderbull had found that a little creative freedom was all that it took to get some good innovation out of his engineers. “...and, if I’m right, keeping a vacuum of air between the inner and outer layer should keep the soup hot!” “I see,” Vanderbull said, rubbing his chin as he listened to the engineer’s explanation. “Would it work for coffee?” The engineer nodded. “Certainly! For just about anything!” He smiled. “Excellent work. We’ll have to see about manufacturing a prototype after the holidays are done.” “Oh, thank you, sir!” “And will I see you and your team at the Hearth’s Warming Eve party?” Vanderbull asked. “Absolutely, sir!” “Glad to hear it!” He smiled and gave the engineer and his team a nod. Monkey Wrench followed right behind him as he continued down the line. “Everypony’s been working very hard, sir,” Monkey Wrench said. “I can see that.” Vanderbull raised his head and looked around, searching for one pony in particular. “Pardon me, but I can’t seem to find our youngest engineer?” “Ah… yes,” Monkey Wrench said, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s this way, sir.” In a corner, moved away from the other tables in the massive, open room, there was a desk covered with books and papers stacked so tall that they obscured the sole occupant. However, occasionally there was the quick movement of a metallic hand or arm and Vanderbull immediately knew who it was. He walked around the desk and saw Gadget standing there, her arms moving around quickly as she scribbled down notes on a piece of paper with a pencil in her mouth. One hand was holding up a book that she was reading from. The other three were busy assembling a device that consisted of a mechanical air pump, a hose, and some sort of cylindrical canister. Monkey Wrench cleared his throat. “Miss Gadget?” Gadget held up one mechanical finger. “Just a moment, sir,” she said, not raising her head to look at him. Monkey Wrench narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “Miss Gadget,” he said again, more loudly than before, “Mr. Vanderbull is here to see you.” “Huh?!” Gadget sputtered, whirling around. When she did so, however, she forgot about her mechanical arms, which whipped around as she turned. One accidentally slapped Monkey Wrench across the face, while another smacked into one of the tall stacks of books on her desk, causing it to collapse, falling onto the others and making them all topple over in a domino effect. Crying out in surprise, Gadget dropped the device she was working on as the piles of books and papers simply collapsed on top of her, burying her under a veritable mountain of information and schematics. “Oh, for the love of Celestia,” Monkey Wrench groaned, rubbing his sore cheek tenderly. Vanderbull only watched this with a smirk on his face. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the canister that had clattered to the ground and bent to pick it up. As he did, Gadget emerged from the pile of books, shaking her head. She looked up to see Vanderbull, her glasses askew on her face and a half-opened book resting on her head. “S-sir!” she exclaimed, getting to her hooves as she adjusted her glasses. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know there was an inspection today!” “There’s no inspection,” Vanderbull said gently. “Though, for the record, I would advise you to keep your desk a bit tidier.” Gadget gulped and stood straight up. “Yes, sir!” she barked, as if she were a Royal Guard standing at attention before her commanding officer. “Miss Gadget,” Monkey Wrench said, tapping his hoof on the floor to get her attention, “will you please clean up this mess?” “Ah, sorry about that, boss!” she cried. Then, with astonishing speed, she used her mechanical arms and hands to rapidly pick up the books and re-stack them onto her desk. The task took her a mere ten seconds. Vanderbull watched her do this, and his jaw slowly dropped. “Well, at least you’re efficient with those hands,” Monkey Wrench said. “Not merely efficient, Monkey Wrench,” Vanderbull said, “but precise! If I’m not mistaken, she’s not only put the books back, but put them back in the same order and position as they were before.” “W-what?!” Monkey Wrench asked, taking another look at them. “Am I correct, Gadget?” Vanderbull asked. “Huh? Oh, yes,” she said matter-of-factly, giving a short nod. “But why?” Monkey Wrench asked. She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Because that’s where they go,” she replied. “I see,” Vanderbull said, giving an approving nod. “You have your own system. And you are able to remember it perfectly.” “I, um, just have a good memory like that, sir,” she said, looking down, but cracking a smile. “Well, never mind all that, Miss Gadget,” Monkey Wrench said, still trying to get over his indignation at being ignored, then slapped in the face with a metal hand. “Explain to Mr. Vanderbull what you’ve been working on.” “Oh, well, it’s…” She paused, glancing around and only finding part of the apparatus. “Wait, where is--” “Looking for this?” Vanderbull asked, holding out the cylindrical canister. “Ah, that’s it!” she exclaimed, reaching for it. But Vanderbull held it aloft, just out of her reach. “Not so fast,” he said, wagging a finger at her playfully. “This appears to be a brake cylinder. In fact, this is the type that is used on air braking systems for trains.” She smiled appreciatively. “That’s right, sir!” she said. “I’m working on designing a new braking system for the company’s trains!” Monkey Wrench cleared his throat. “That’s nice, but unnecessary,” he declared. “As you’re aware, we’re already planning to begin fitting our trains with the Westinghorse Air Brake system next year.” “W-well, yes, but I just thought--” “I can’t believe this little project you’ve thrown yourself into is to solve a problem that we’ve already found a solution to!” he groaned. She lowered her head. “B-but, I…” Vanderbull held up a hand. “Gadget, I have to admit that Monkey Wrench is right. This was an executive decision. I’m thoroughly convinced that the Westinghorse system would be the most efficient means of solving the issues with the old chain brake system. Many smaller railroad companies are already using them.” Gadget’s ears lay back. “Oh. I see,” she said quietly. Vanderbull pursed his lips. “Still, we haven’t implemented them yet. I have a few minutes, if you care to explain more about why you’re pursuing this course of action.” She raised her head again, perking up immediately. “Y-yes, sir! Well, ever since the…” She paused, biting her lip. “The, um… accident?” Vanderbull’s smile vanished, and his expression turned gravely serious. “You’re referring to the Trottingham Rapids accident.” Even the nearby engineers idly watching this exchange grew quieter at this. The Trottingham Rapids accident had occurred a month ago. Trottingham was getting a particularly strong snowstorm fed by rogue winds from the Crystal Mountain range. In the icy conditions, a passenger train had collided with a coal train. Thirteen ponies had died, and sixty more had been injured. Celestia herself had ordered an inquiry, and among the main causes, it was found that the old chain brake system was too slow. Under the circumstances, a train like the passenger train needed a minimum of 800 meters and probably over a kilometer to come to a stop. “Well, I was just… I was really sad when I read the report, sir,” Gadget said. “And I saw how it was decided that we needed new brakes on the trains, so--” “Which is why,” Monkey Wrench interrupted, “we decided to adopt the Westinghorse system! It’s much more efficient and should solve all our problems!” “Not all of them!” Gadget exclaimed. “If the pipes that carry air to the brakes are ruptured, the whole system will fail. And we’ll need to install more brake cars for the bigger trains. And you have to completely engage the brake, they take a long time to recharge, not to mention the time and cost of building the reciprocating steam air compressor…” “All true,” Vanderbull said, “though those concerns are relatively minor.” “R...relatively, sir,” she said. She took a deep breath. “But I still think there has to be a better way.” “And that is?” She looked down at the apparatus in her hooves, then back up at Vanderbull. “I’m still working on it.” Vanderbull nodded. “I see. Good luck then, Gadget. Please keep us all updated on your progress.” She smiled up at him. “I will, sir!” “Very good! And now,” he added, his grin growing wider, “tell me, will you be coming to our Hearth’s Warming Eve party?” Her expression changed for a moment. Her eyes bulged and her smile vanished. “Is that a no?” “I, um… probably not, sir,” she mumbled. “I might have plans.” “A shame, but I understand,” Vanderbull said, handing her back the brake cylinder. “Well, keep up the good work until next time.” “Yes, sir!” she replied, and waved to him with her hoof and several hands as he walked away. Monkey Wrench turned to look over his shoulder and saw Gadget immediately return to her work. He then caught up to Vanderbull as he left the room and entered the hallway. “Sir, do you have a moment?” he asked quietly. Vanderbull paused and glanced down at him. “Yes, I suppose so. What’s on your mind, Monkey Wrench?” He sighed. “Sir, I’d like to talk to you about Miss Gadget.” Vanderbull wore a grin. “Yes, she is quite the precocious young lady, wouldn’t you say?” “That’s not exactly the first word that comes to mind,” he said. “Frankly, sir, I… I’m not sure she’s working out.” Vanderbull’s expression soured and he crossed his arms, glowering at him. “Oh really?” he asked, with a dark edge to his voice. Monkey Wrench swallowed. Vanderbull was known for being kind, generous, and magnanimous… until you stirred his near-legendary minotauran temper. “S-sir, please understand, I’m just trying to be honest. You didn’t appoint me to supervise R&D for no reason, after all. I know you’re fond of her, but I really think there’s a problem.” Vanderbull took a deep breath, telling himself to calm down. “Very well,” he said. “Explain it to me.” “First, to be fair, it’s obvious that she’s smart. We all know that. She built those miraculous arms of hers all on her own in a shed behind her parents’ house! And when there’s a problem with one of the prototypes, she’s one of the very best at finding the problem and fixing it. And, as you saw, she’s got a nearly perfect memory. It’s obvious why you picked her for the job, despite her age.” Vanderbull nodded. “All right. Then what’s the problem?” “It’s not just one problem, sir,” Monkey Wrench replied. “But, in order: “For starters, she’s antisocial. As you know, she dropped out of school early to teach herself.” “Yes, because the material was too easy for her, so she followed her own pursuits,” Vanderbull reminded him. “Which would be fine except that she barely had any social ties to anypony for all that time. She just threw herself into her project and never really learned to socialize. She’ll help fix things, sure, but she hasn’t joined a single collaborative project as a team member, nor has she asked anyone to help her. She’s painfully shy, sir, and unless the topic is of interest to her, it’s nearly impossible to have a conversation with her.” Vanderbull ran his tongue around his cheek. “I see,” he replied. “Go on.” “Second,” Monkey Wrench continued, “she’s unfocused. She has started dozens and dozens of projects, sketching them out, amassing the parts to build prototypes, and so on, but abandoned almost all of them to switch to a new pet project. Not only that, but those arms of hers? The very things that caught your attention and got her published in Scientific Equestrian? She refuses to help construct more devices like it!” “Yes, I recall,” Vanderbull said. “She stated that the process of building them was too difficult at the moment, since she had to train herself to use her earth pony magic to manipulate them.” “That might be true, but when I pressed her about it, she said she mostly just didn’t want to spend another two years trying to build another device. Even though we offered to work as a team to streamline and customize the process so that anypony could use one, she refused!” Vanderbull blinked. “But… why would she object?” “She says that there’s no way to do it without meticulously adapting it to a single pony, but I personally believe it’s because, to her mind, she’s already solved the problem.” Monkey Wrench sighed. “She just doesn’t want to waste brain power on something she’s already mastered. She wants to move on. She’d rather let others attempt mass production; she only built them for her personal benefit and so she could work and build things more precisely without relying on a unicorn assistant to handle the small parts.” “Yes,” Vanderbull said, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers. “Earth pony engineers otherwise have to rely on their hooves and mouths alone, which isn’t always the most precise of methods. Honestly, sometimes I don’t know how you ponies can manage without hands.” “We get by,” Monkey Wrench muttered, rolling his eyes. “And anyway, both of those issues are made worse by the last problem: she’s just plain immature.” “Are you saying that because she’s young?” “No, I’m saying that because she’s young and she acts that way.” His frown lines deepened. “Sir, even the designs she has finished are… impractical. She once designed a gigantic mechanical drill powered by 200 ponies running on treadmills. The thing would have been over a kilometer long and the sole purpose of it was to drill through a mountain or, to quote her, ‘Bore through the Great Wall of Chineigh or something.’” “That’s…” Vanderbull looked away. “Yes, I suppose that’s not something we’d really need.” “Even it if was, we couldn’t afford to build it! We could bore through a hundred mountains with our regular drillers and dynamite for what it would cost to build it! But she said she wanted to try and accurately design something like she read in those Neighponese comics of hers.” “Well, you said she’s abandoned ‘almost’ all of her prototypes. Has she actually constructed something?” Vanderbull asked. Monkey Wrench sighed. “One. Just one.” Without another word, he went back inside the workroom for a moment, re-emerging with a small device in his hoof. He held it up to Vanderbull for him to see. It was a small mechanical unicorn with googly eyes that shook and rattled as Monkey Wrench held it. He pressed in the horn like a button, and the thing came to life, rearing up on its hind legs. It made a sound like a turkey call and, when it came back down, raised its tail and farted a cloud of rainbow-colored smoke, complete with appropriately flatulent sound effects. Vanderbull gawked at it. “That’s the only thing she’s ever built for us?!” Monkey Wrench grinned humorlessly. “You see the problem now? We are paying her a fairly generous salary at one of the most prestigious institutions in all Equestria, and this is what we’re getting for our investment. For your investment, sir.” Vanderbull removed his spectacles and rubbed his face in exasperation. “Sweet Celestia…” Monkey Wrench lowered his head. “Commodore, I know you have a soft spot for her. You also got a start when you were young and fresh out of Minos. And I know you were also self-taught and had mentors who helped you become the pony-- er, minotaur you are today. We all know your story and admire you for it. I imagine you wanted to pass your good fortune on to that little filly in there. But she’s never had to deal with responsibility or expectations, and she doesn’t know what to do with the freedom we’ve given her. “She’s not just young, she’s our youngest engineer and the second youngest engineer here is ten years older than her! She’s a child prodigy, but you only see the ‘prodigy’ in that, and not the ‘child.’ I’ve tried to talk to her and get her on the right path, but she just doesn’t seem to listen. I’m sure she’s got some good ideas in that head of hers, but maybe they - and she - just need some time to mature.” Vanderbull took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he clapped Monkey Wrench on the shoulder. “You certainly are deserving of your position, Monkey Wrench,” he said, giving him a warm smile. “I suppose you’re correct about me. And her. I had hoped that giving her this opportunity would allow her to flourish, but perhaps…” He paused, standing up straight and smoothing his coat. “Well,” he continued, “I will not dismiss somepony right before Hearth’s Warming. Let’s wait until after the holidays and then, if she hasn’t shown any sign of promise by that time, then I suppose we’ll… we’ll have to do something.” Monkey Wrench nodded solemnly. “Understood, sir.” “Very well then,” Vanderbull said, turning to go. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see if our dear friend Rockefoaler has been naughty or nice this year.” *** While Vanderbull and Monkey Wrench were out in the hall, Gadget was perched on a stool, leaning over the desk with her face resting in her hooves as she stared at the brake apparatus. She used one of her mechanical hands to turn the valve on the air pump, turning it all the way before the brake cylinder engaged. In one of her other hands, she held a stopwatch, timing how long it took for the brake to fully engage after turning the valve. “Fast,” she mumbled, “but not instant.” She massaged her temples. It was only a second and a half. But a second and a half for a train hurtling down the track at seventy kilometers per hour or more could mean a fair amount of distance, especially because that didn’t even account for the time it would take for the engineer to signal the brake cars. And no matter what, the longer it took to start slowing down the train, the less distance there would be to stop in time. Thirteen ponies. Thirteen ponies lost their lives. She shut her eyes. If only they didn’t need the brake cars to help slow the train, she thought. If the engineer could just hit the brake himself, he could stop the train faster! And if I could just come up with a better way than the Westinghorse system, they could hit the brakes fast as lightning! Her eyes popped open. “Lightning,” she whispered. “Lightning… lightning!” Some of the engineers at nearby desks turned their heads as she got to her hooves, her face lighting up. “LIGHTNING!!” she bellowed, causing all of her coworkers to give a start. “Of course! I can use electricity!” She kicked her forelegs in the air excitedly, and, oblivious to all the stares she was getting, quickly got out a piece of paper and began scribbling a list of supplies she’d need. She then dashed over to the front of the room just as Monkey Wrench returned from his conversation with Vanderbull. “Boss! Boss!” she cried, running up to his desk, practically bouncing on her hooves. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Miss Gadget, what is it?” “I think I’ve got it! We can use electricity to--” “Do you have a blueprint? Or even a basic design?” She blinked. “W-well, no, but I have the idea in my head, so if I could just, um, get some supplies…” She trailed off as she passed him the list. He sat down on his own work stool, frowning at her. “Normally I’d chastise you for not following standard procedure, but since it’s nearly Hearth’s Warming and you’ve got very little time left to finish this project, I’ll do you a favor.” He took the list, glancing at it. “I think I can get these things for you. You’ll need to use a test track and modify a scale model, too, if you’re planning to test your prototype.” She perked up. “Perfect! Let’s see…” She paused, rubbing her chin. “It’ll take me the rest of the day to build the system. I can work late and use one of the test tracks this evening!” Monkey Wrench got out a large book and flipped through it. “Let me check the schedule,” he said, finding the appropriate page. “Hm. I’m afraid all available times are booked even late into tonight.” Gadget’s eyes bulged. “But… but I need to test the prototype immediately!” she exclaimed. He shrugged. “Then,” she said, “if you asked one of the other engineers if I could have their time slot instead, I could--” “I won’t do that,” he said, holding up a hoof. “They’ve taken the time to schedule their tests before the holiday begins. You’re just out of time.” “There has to be something available!” she cried, getting right in his face. He gently pushed her back. “Not tonight there isn’t,” he replied, his annoyance threatening to boil over into anger. “However, if you’ll let me look… yes, there is one slot--” “I’ll take it!” “--late tomorrow afternoon.” She froze. “That’s… that’s Hearth’s Warming Eve.” “Yes. Right when most of the company will be at the Hearth’s Warming Eve Party. And as I recall, you said you probably had plans at that time?” She nodded slowly. “Well, this is the very last slot before the company closes for the holiday. If this is how you want to spend your Hearth’s Warming Eve, that’s your choice, but I will warn you that if you can’t come up with something impressive, then we’ll be signing a contract with the Westinghorse company as soon as we return. So, tomorrow evening, one slot left, Hangar #3, Hearth’s Warming Eve: take it or leave it.” She grew uncharacteristically quiet. She lowered her head and her ears drooped. Even her mechanical limbs seemed to visibly sag. “I… I see.” She swallowed. “All right,” she said quietly. “I’ll take it.” “It’s yours,” Monkey Wrench said, taking a pencil and adding her name to the slot. “Okay, Miss Gadget, wait here, and I’ll get your supplies.” “Right,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Um, boss? Can I take an early lunch break? I just need to stop by the telegraph office really quick.” “Sure, why not,” he sighed as he turned away from her. “See you when you get back.” *** It was late when Gadget came home. It was dark and cold outside, but her little apartment somehow seemed even darker and colder. She shivered and shook the snow from her mane as she undid her scarf and stepped inside, setting her bags down by her desk. Going to her kitchen, her belly growling furiously at her that she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch, she simply took a few slices of bread and placed them in the toaster, then opened a can of beans to heat them in a pan on her stove. As her food cooked, she unpacked some of her bags, looking over her notes from the day. She’d spent the entire day on her prototype, but she wouldn’t get to test it until tomorrow. Then she glanced at the envelope on the corner of her desk. She slid the letter out and read it again. Her lip quivered momentarily, but she drew in a breath and shut her eyes, steeling herself. “No,” she whispered. “I have to do this.” *** The next day, in the grand ballroom on the top floor of the Vanderbull Industries building, Cornelius Vanderbull stood before his employees, a microphone on a stand stretched as tall as it would go before him. All around them, the room was decorated with wreaths and holly and ribbons (and a few discreetly-placed bits of mistletoe), and the tables off to the side were laden with gingerbread cookies, chocolates, peppermint sticks, and other treats, as well as large bowls filled with either chilled eggnog or piping hot mulled cider. “Good afternoon, everypony!” Vanderbull shouted, his arms spread wide as he stood before them in a bright red Santa Hooves coat complete with a fake white beard and a red cap atop his head. “You’ve all worked very hard to make this company a success for another year, and I am proud to call you all members of our team! Let’s have a round of applause for all the hard work you’ve done and all that you’ve accomplished!” Several hundred ponies all cheered and either clapped or stomped their hooves in response. “Still,” Vanderbull continued, “there is a time to work one’s hooves to the nubs, and there’s a time to make merry! And this is certainly the latter! So, before we all go off to be with our families or depart for our ‘ho-ho-homes’--” A groan went up from the audience even as Vanderbull smiled at his own terrible pun. “--let us all enjoy this lovely Hearth’s Warming Eve with our friends and colleagues! Happy Hearth’s Warming, my friends!” “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Mr. Vanderbull!” the crowd shouted back, erupting into cheers as the party began. *** Outside and behind the building, Gadget was pulling a cart with supplies and tools with her teeth. She’d have used her mechanical arms, but each of those was holding a box or bag filled with even more materials. A cold wind blew her mane into her face, covering her eyes, and she dropped the handle of the cart as she sputtered and tried to shake it off. Once it was free, she looked up at the top floor of the building and saw the lights and the silhouettes of the party-goers in the windows. She paused for a moment, wondering what sort of food they had up there, how warm it would be, or if the handsome stallion in accounting might try to kiss her on the cheek if she were to stand under the mistletoe. Her smile grew and her cheeks reddened at the thought. Another stingingly icy wind lashed across her face, bringing her back to reality. She shook her head and picked up the cart handle again, pulling it the rest of the way to Hangar #3, where the test track was waiting for her. The long brick building had a huge sliding door that she managed to shove out of the way as she brought in her things. The sound of the door sliding along its treads echoed off the high, arched ceiling and throughout the spacious building. Inside the building was a gigantic model train track. She would place her modified scale model train cars upon it and begin running her tests on various inclines and angles with different speeds and simulated conditions. She had to run the full gamut of tests to prove the validity of her design, and that would take hours. And then she would have to finish writing up the full proposal with an overview and description of the design… it was going to be another long night. She shivered again and began to close the door against the wind outside. As she did so, she took another longing look at the party going on at the top of the building. For some, she told herself, it was time to celebrate. For her, it was time to work. Gadget shut the door on the world outside and concentrated on what waited within. *** That evening, Vanderbull’s carriage pulled up to the door of his prodigious mansion on the outskirts of Manehattan. He got out and went up to the front door, which opened before him and Alfredo, his aging, primly-dressed butler welcomed him inside. “Thank you, Alfredo,” Vanderbull said, wiping his hooves and taking off his coat. “Welcome home, sir,” Alfredo said, giving his boss a smile as he took the coat in his magic and hung it up in the nearby closet. The two of them walked together through the foyer and into the magnificently furnished dining room. “You are right on time, sir. Dinner is almost ready to be served.” “Wonderful! Though I hope I haven’t filled up on too many sweets from the party!” “But knowing you, dear,” said a gentle, familiar voice, “you’ll still find room for dinner and dessert as well.” He smiled broadly as he saw his wife, Sophia, a sandy-colored unicorn with a black mane, standing under the glittering light of the crystalline chandelier. “Right you are, sweetheart,” he said, going over to her, kissing her on the cheek. “Oh, Cornelius, your nose is freezing!” she laughed, pushing him away playfully. “Now come get comfortable. I have been smelling Alfredo’s cooking all evening, and I am simply famished!” He nodded and took his seat at the table. *** Gadget’s mechanical fingers swiftly typed out the very last page on the typewriter. She drew it out and placed it with the rest of her report. She included all her designs, notes, and measurements from her tests and bundled it all together in an accordion folder tied with a string. Somehow she had managed to get it all done before security had made her shut down so they could lock up the hangar. She rode the elevator up to the ninth floor and walked out, the light from the elevator behind her casting her shadow long across the smooth, tiled floor. She made her way to Vanderbull’s office with its broad wooden double doors. She turned the handle, stepping inside the large office with Vanderbull’s monolithic desk placed by the window. Through it, she could see the shimmering skyline of Manehattan against the dark, smoky gray sky. Snow was scheduled for that evening, but it hadn’t come yet. She sighed, knowing she’d probably have to run her furnace on high that evening. But still, she managed a smile as she placed the accordion folder on Vanderbull’s desk. He would see it as soon as he returned from his Hearth’s Warming holiday. Mission accomplished, she told herself. Once finished, she rode the elevator back down and went to the front door where a security guard was posted. “Workin’ late again?” he asked her. “Yeah,” she replied, looking up at him wearily. “I guess we both had to work late on Hearth’s Warming Eve.” “Nah, my shift’s almost ovah,” he said, waving his hoof. “Then I’m gonna go home and have dinnah with the wife an’ kids.” Gadget blinked. “That sounds nice,” she said softly as he opened the door for her. “Have a Happy Hearth’s Warming, sir.” “Back atcha, miss,” he said, smiling at her as she walked out. Once again in the cold, she looked around to try and spot a taxi, but no cabbies were in sight, so she resigned herself to the walk home. *** Vanderbull poured himself a snifter of brandy before sitting in the tall armchair by the grand, crackling fireplace. He sank into the chair as he took a sip and smiled at Sophia, who was putting a vinyl record of holiday music on the phonograph. She smiled mischievously as she trotted over and climbed into the tall chair, snuggling next to him. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Mr. Vanderbull,” she whispered, resting her head against his chest. “The same to you, Mrs. Vanderbull,” he chuckled, running his fingers through her mane. She murmured something as he glanced up at the mantle above the fireplace, noting the comical little Hearth’s Warming dolls depicting the two of them. His smile wavered for a moment, noting how much room was left on that mantle for more dolls. But the mantle, like the house, had far more space than just two needed. “Cornelius?” He looked down at his wife, who’d tapped him on the shoulder. “I asked if you’d like to open a present this evening or just wait until tomorrow morning.” “Oh, well, I…” He froze. His eyes went wide. Present! “Oh, blast it all!” he shouted. He got to his hooves as Sophia looked up at him with confusion. “Cornelius? What is it, darling?” “I, ah, just realized I forgot something at the office. I’m terribly sorry, dear, but I need to go back to get it.” She pouted. “Cornelius, why don’t you worry about that later? Stay with me.” She tugged playfully at his shirt with her magic. He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, no, I’m sorry Sophia, I can’t just leave this. I promise I’ll return as quickly as I can.” She rolled her eyes, but waved him off. “All right, but I’ll hold you to that, mister.” He nodded, giving her one last smile as he went to the servants’ quarters on the corner of his property. He’d have to offer an extra bonus to his driver for helping him go out on Hearth’s Warming Eve, but it would be worth it. *** Vanderbull stepped into his darkened office, inwardly cursing himself for his forgetfulness. He stepped behind his desk and opened the large bottom drawer. Inside was a small wrapped box containing a custom-made diamond necklace for Sophia. It was to be the highlight of Hearth’s Warming, and he certainly wasn’t going to wait until the holiday was over to give it to her. Fortunately, his driver had understood perfectly and agreed to help him. He pocketed the box and was about to leave when he noticed something that had been placed on his desk. It was an accordion folder with a note that simply said: For: Mr. Vanderbull From: Gadgette F. Giroux He blinked. It wasn’t a very ornately wrapped present, to be sure, but his curiosity was piqued just the same. He sat behind the desk and opened it, turning on his desk lamp to see better. There was time, of course; his driver could wait in the nice, warm lobby while he had a look for a few minutes. Those few minutes soon stretched into nearly half an hour. With increasing interest, he pored over the notes, examining the detailed plans and checking the data. “Sir?” He gave a start at the voice and saw his driver standing there. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you said you’d only need a few minutes. I didn’t want to rush you, but…” “Ah, yes, I’m terribly sorry!” Vanderbull said, slapping his own forehead. “Yes, I’ll just need a few more minutes, and then we can…” He glanced at the notes on the simulated runs. Gadget had meticulously noted the time and results of her tests with the modified scale model. He realized that she’d run those tests when he and the other employees had been at the party. She’d sacrificed her time to make sure she had something substantial to show before the holiday ended. Before they went forward with adopting the Westinghorse brake system. He frowned and pulled an employee directory out of his desk. “Just a moment,” he said to the driver, who was still standing nearby dutifully. “I have a hunch… I think I’d like to make a slight detour before returning home.” “You’re the one who has to face Mrs. Vanderbull, sir,” the driver replied slyly. Vanderbull chuckled. “I think she’ll understand in this case.” *** Gadget turned up the heat on the wall radiator and pulled the blanket around herself. She took another sip from the cup of soup she held, blowing on it carefully to avoid burning her tongue. There’d been a telegram waiting for her when she’d arrived home. She’d been avoiding reading it until she at least had something to eat, but now that she’d made some soup, she’d run out of excuses to look at it. She held it up and began to read it as she sat in a small chair in her living room. Her eyes ran over it, but presently she began to sniffle and her eyes grew wet. She wiped them away, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I made the right decision… I made the right decision…” She whispered that mantra to herself a few more times when there was a heavy knock on her door. She sat up straight and walked over to the door, still holding the blanket around herself while her mechanical hands carried the telegram and her soup. “Who is it?” she called. “I beg your pardon,” came a gruff, familiar voice. “This is Cornelius Vanderbull. I’m looking for Gadget. Er, Gadgette F. Giroux? She’s an employee of mine.” Gadget frowned. Even though it sounded like him, she couldn’t think of a single reason why Vanderbull would deign to visit her at her apartment. “I-if this is a joke, it’s not very funny!” she said. There was a beat and then the speaker said, “Gadget, I recognize your voice. I assure you, it’s me.” Gadget got on her hind legs and opened the door a crack, a secure chain in place just in case it really was some imposter. She saw in an instant who it was and gasped. “Oh! S-sir, I’m sorry!” She undid the chain and opened the door for Vanderbull, who was nearly the size of the door itself. It was, after all, built to be used by ponies, not a minotaur. He stepped inside, taking a look around. “This is your home, Gadget?” he asked. “No,” she replied instantly. Then she shook her head. “Er, what I mean is yes, it’s my apartment. I live here. So, I… I guess it is home.” He looked down at her and frowned. “Forgive me, Gadget, but your eyes are a bit red. Have you been crying?” She looked away, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t mean to intrude, Gadget,” he said, bowing to her. “It’s just… well, I read the proposal you left on my desk and I--” “Oh!” Gadget cried, standing up straight. “I thought you would look at it after Hearth’s Warming, sir! I didn’t mean to bother you with it now!” He waved his hand. “No, no, it’s… actually, I’m thoroughly impressed. This ‘electro-pneumatic brake system’ as you call it, is quite remarkable. Using electricity to activate the air pumps and engage the brake cylinders to instantly begin slowing the entire train, doing away with the brake cars, and giving the engineer himself control over the brakes and how hard to apply them? It’s brilliant! Why, if your simulations are correct, this will be as good, if not better than the results of the Westinghorse system! “Gadget, you’ve finally proven yourself! This is fantastic work, and it could potentially save a great many lives!” Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him. Then she lowered her head, smiling bashfully. “Then… then it really was worth it,” she whispered. He knelt down, getting on one bended knee to look at her on her own level. “Gadget, when you said you couldn’t come to the party, I didn’t realize you were going to be working. And while I understand why, I must admit that I’m surprised you’re still here in Manehattan. Are you not going home to spend Hearth’s Warming with your family?” Gadget shut her eyes and shook her head. “You… you mean you plan to spend Hearth’s Warming here? Alone?” “It’s… it’s not like I wanted to,” she said, sniffling slightly. She walked back to her desk and retrieved the letter and gave it to Vanderbull. He raised his spectacles and began to read. Dear Gadgette, Have you decided to come home for Hearth’s Warming yet? We’d love to have you back with us so you can tell us all about your new job in Manehattan. We promise to make your favourite cookies, and Fall Leaf keeps asking if his big sister is coming soon. He really misses you, even if he pretends that he doesn’t. If you come home, we promise that we won’t make you wear that frilly Hearth’s Warming dress you hate in the family picture this year. We know you’re doing your best, even when it’s difficult, and we think it’s really great that you’re trying to build something that will save ponies’ lives. Even so, if you can finish your work and buy a ticket back to Vanhoover, we’d love to see you. We sent you a picture, and we hope to see you soon. Love, Mama, Papa, and Fall Leaf Vanderbull finished reading and noted the picture. There was an earth pony mare and a stallion with a mustache and a little colt with a messy mane making a goofy face at the camera. Her family. Gadget then gave him the telegram. It was much shorter, obviously to save on the cost of sending a long message. Gadgette, We understand about the job. Please come home ASAP. We love you very much. “I really wanted to see them,” she said, her voice strained and breaking. “I didn’t really realize how much I missed them until I got their first letter. But I… I had to finish my work before they closed the building for Hearth’s Warming, or else it would be too late! You’d pick the Westinghorse system, and I couldn’t stand by when I knew there was a better way.” Her eyes grew damp, and she tried to wipe the tears away as she continued, feebly trying to hold them back. “I really wanted to go home, but all the trains on Hearth’s Warming are s-sold out. I sent a telegram, and I know they understand, b-but…” A sob escaped her and she sank to her haunches, the tears flowing down her face freely. “I thought I could handle it! I th-thought I could show you and Monkey Wrench that I’m not wasting your time, and I thought I was strong enough to handle this. I ju-just wanted to prove I’m not a stupid filly anymore, but I…” She looked up at Vanderbull with reddened, tear stained eyes. “I miss my mom and dad. I miss home. I think about my parents and my baby brother opening their presents and singing songs, but I’m not there now. I just imagine them putting out my Hearth’s Warming doll and putting it next to everypony else’s, even though I’m not even there for it! And… and they probably miss me as much as I miss them, and I d-didn’t want to spend Hearth’s Warming by myself, b-but I couldn’t leave until I finished, s-so I… I just… I just…!” Vanderbull leaned down and embraced Gadget as she broke down crying on his shoulder. He found himself thinking of his conversation about her the day before. Now he saw the ‘child’ part of this child prodigy. “I’m so ashamed,” she whimpered. “I’m s-so selfish. I bet I really hurt Mama and Papa’s feelings. I…” “There there,” he said, drawing a hanky from his coat and offering it to her. “You aren’t the first to make such a difficult decision. Believe me, I know.” She took the hanky, drying her eyes and blowing her nose into it. “Thank you, sir,” she said, her lip still quivering. “Do you… do you think I did the right thing? Do you think it was wrong of me to put my work before my family?” “Well, I am your boss, so I might be biased in my answer to that question,” he replied, giving her a wink. She giggled in spite of her tears as she managed a smile. “I’m so sorry about all this, Mr. Vanderbull,” she said. “I’m really a mess, aren’t I?” “Well, messes were made to be cleaned up,” he said, standing to his full height. “And I suppose I’m partly to blame for this particular mess. After all, I’m the one who convinced your parents that I’d watch over you if they allowed you to work for me, so I will do something about the situation. For now, though, Gadget, please get your coat. You’re late.” “Late?” She blinked at him. “For what?” He smiled warmly. “For spending Hearth’s Warming Eve with my wife and me,” he replied. *** Two days later, Gadget’s hooves crunched through the freshly-fallen snow as she made her way up the path to the little house on the outskirts of Vanhoover. The little pine tree in her front yard was decorated with lights and ornaments. The Equestrian flag was already out on a flagpole. It was morning, but she saw the warm glow of the fireplace radiating out through the windows as she approached. Vanderbull had given her a wonderful Hearth’s Warming evening. Though Sophia Vanderbull had been surprised to see her husband show up with a young filly by his side, she’d recovered quickly and had welcomed her like an old friend. They’d played games, sang songs, and that night she’d slept in a voluminous bed that looked as large as a mountain range. And the next day, Hearth’s Warming Day, she’d even joined them when they opened presents. She’d told them that she felt terrible that she had no gift for them to repay their kindness, but Sophia Vanderbull had just said that having someone else to share their house and their time on Hearth’s Warming was gift enough. Much to her surprise, though, Mr. Vanderbull had a present set aside for her as well. It was a small envelope. Inside she found a gold-rimmed slip of paper. It said “Executive VIP Pass” on it. According to Vanderbull, there were always spots reserved on the express trains for royalty, mayors, and celebrities, but he was the President of the entire company, so he could give them out to anypony he pleased. Even if the trains were completely sold out, she could use it to go home. She wouldn’t be home in time for Hearth’s Warming Day, true, but she was going home just the same. And in the midst of her cries of joy and thanking him profusely for his generosity, he gave her one more present. “Gadget,” he’d said, “you’re fired.” “Wh-what?!” she’d cried. Then he’d laughed. “I’m rehiring you as my Executive Assistant. That memory of yours should help me keep organized. And furthermore, if you’re going to learn responsibility, you’ll need somepony to mentor you. You can still build your creations to your heart’s content, of course. I’m even giving you a workshop of your own to do so. However, you’ll need to be there to help me when I call. Now, go home and tell your parents the good news… and take your time: I’m giving you an extra week of vacation to prepare yourself for this new position.” With a wink and a smile, he’d sent her on her way, and now, after nearly a day on a cross-country train, she was nearly home. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled, barely able to contain her happiness. She’d never forget what Mr. Vanderbull had done for her, and she’d do her best from then on to make him proud. She wore a Santa Hooves hat and held a green and red wrapped present in her mechanical hands as she went up to the door and knocked. It opened, casting a warm glow on her as she smiled. “Hello, Mama and Papa,” she said. “I’m home for Hearth’s Warming.”