> Changing History > by Darkstarling > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Tea, Plus the Secret History of the Changelings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, Daring Do here. I know you want a story, and this one is a favorite of mine. And not for the swashbuckling and adventure. It has that, sure, don’t get me wrong. I mean, this is me we’re talking about. Some days I’d swear I couldn’t take a shower without an anaconda deciding that it was it’s one day of the month feeling peckish, and the pony intruding on it’s personal waterfall would substitute for delivery pizza. But no, this story is important. I’ve had my days of heroism, advanced the science archeology, and sometimes even stopped a madpony from getting their hands on a stupidly powerful ancient artifact. But still, it’s not every day you change the fate of an entire species. It began when I was summoned to speak with Princess Celestia. Now if you’ve been following along with my adventures, you know this wasn't the first time we'd spoken. You know everything about her beauty, grace, poise and wisdom that a hundred poets have expressed more eloquently than a dusty antiquarian like me. I just dig up the art, I don’t make it. And you’ll also know that I’ve come to dread these meetings, because something is always up. Always. No exceptions. These past few years, I’ve come to shudder at the sight of Seasons tea. And don’t get me started on Anise Cake. So it was with an increasing feeling of doom that I was escorted down the Tulip-Pillared Gallery to the Looming Solarium. I wondered in passing just what Celestia was thinking when she named the castle rooms, but it could be worse. The ‘tulip’ pillars are positively phallic, we’re just lucky the Princess doesn’t have a dirty mind. And I knew that I was mentally rambling to distract myself from whatever was to come. To be honest, I’ve faced Ahuziotl with less apprehension than I did the smiling demigoddess seated before me. “Daring,” she said in a friendly tone as the butler turned and abandoned me to my fate. “It’s so wonderful to see you.” “Your Highness,” I replied with a quick bow and what I hoped was a cocky grin. She laughed a bit, and it was of course musical. “Daring, how many times am I going to have to tell you to drop the formality?” “Oh, at least once more, as ever, your Highness” I said, slipping into banter easily. After trading quips with Cabelleron all these years I swear it’s become a reflex when I’m stressed. She shook her head fondly, and I took the seat beside her. The solarium really was lovely, looming or not, and gave a beautiful view down the mountain to the sun sinking over the plains beyond. We sat, and for a moment we just looked, and I felt some of the tension ease. “Well, I do hope you know that I mean it,” she said eventually. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for the crown all these years, of course. But I really do enjoy the time we get to spend together as well, even if it’s always in less than pleasant circumstances.” “I do know. And of course I’m always glad to see you, how couldn’t I be?” I was too, for all I like to complain. And for all I was still waiting for the bad news to drop. “But that’s life isn’t it?" I continued. "I know how you can’t take time off, you’re the Princess. It’s why I’m glad I’m just an archaeologist. Give me an honest poison spear trap over a crown any day.” She raised an eye at that, and smirked. “Well fine,” I admitted. “A crown that’s occupied. Skulls don’t count.” “Much better,” she said, mostly managing to keep a straight face. “You know I have always encouraged honesty in my subjects.” She poured the tea for both of us, and I took a sip. It was, of course, excellent. “So...how bout you tell me what you need from me?” I asked, then immediately realized how that sounded. “I mean! Not that this isn’t nice, because it is. I just don’t want worrying about it looming over our time together, you know? I’d much rather know and get it over with.” She sighed and put the tea down. “Do I really make you so nervous, Daring?” She asked. To my surprise she sounded almost hurt. “Hey, don’t take it that way,” I said, trying for my usual cheeky tone. “Tea in the palace of the most beautiful mare in all of Equestria? I’d be a nervous wreck even if I didn’t know some big mission was coming.” What? Everyone knows they say it’s funny cause it’s true. At least it made her blush. “Really, Daring,” she said, shaking her head, “one of these days your charm will get you into trouble. Somepony will get the wrong idea and take you seriously.” “What makes you think it hasn’t already?” I felt a genuine smile appear on my face, almost verging on a smirk, and I slipped on my worst high society accent. “Oh, your Highness, I’m sorry but we simply must stop meeting like this. The scandal! I, a lowly author and historian, enamored and daring to tempt the heart of a Princess. Such a thing cannot be! Oh woe for it is our fate, crossed by stars and separated by duty…” “Oh stop!” Celestia said, bursting into laughter, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “Besides, we both know that for love you would dare, and do, no matter the risk. For what greater treasure is there than the heart of your beloved?” I froze for a moment, saw her beautiful face and wise eyes lit by mirth and framed in the halo of her mane. And then I blushed a deep crimson and turned away, staring determinedly at the landscape. “Well, that got turned around on me didn’t it.” I coughed. “But speaking of ancient treasures more valuable than kingdoms, you do have something for me to dig up right? Something tangible?” “Well, I suppose I do yes,” she said. I couldn’t see her expression. The treetops of the Everfree were certainly beautiful this summer, and were demanding my full attention. “This one is actually a bit different then the usual," she continued after a pause. "More something a simple archaeologist might be interested in, rather than a dashing and heroic adventurer.” “I hate adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner. I don’t know what anypony sees in them.” I found the nerve to turn and look at her, and simply found her smiling at my little joke. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well. Good. But her face turned somber. “In all seriousness though Daring, this may be mostly a research mission. But believe me when I say this is an incredibly important and sensitive assignment. I can’t trust anyone else with it.” I nodded. “You can count on me, your Highness. To the ends of the world and back, if need be.” “As if you haven’t proven that already, many times over.” She gave a brief smile before her serious expression returned. “What I’m about to tell you is secret information, and extremely politically sensitive. And it all revolves around the newly founded Changeling nation.” I whistled. Equestria’s newest and most controversial ally. And in the midst of a resurgent isolationist movement at that. Even with all four Princesses pushing the public opinion, anything even vaguely related to them was like lit dynamite. “Indeed, I see you grasp the magnitude of what I am about to tell you. King Thorax is working hard to establish them as a legitimate nation, and their metamorphosis has cured them of their hunger for stolen love. Everything seems to be going perfectly.” I nodded. “But?” “But… I have seen this before. Exactly this. Thorax has not founded the first nation of reformed Changelings. He has merely founded the first in recorded history.” I stared. “But...how is that possible?" I sputtered. "Whole nations don’t just vanish. They leave ruins and records. Well, except for the Crystal Empire of course. But nopony, nocreature, had even heard of Changelings until the Wedding Invasion.” Celestia nodded. “Indeed. It was then as it is now. It was the year 351 when Hive Mantodea came, a threat we had no records of nor strategy against. They hunted among us, unseen. Replaced our leaders and subverted our military. Equestria teetered on the edge of utter defeat. But in the end they were stopped, redeemed and metamorphosed by the power of Agape. They joined us in friendship, under their new leader Queen Apocrita. We had such plans to build a new future together. And then, in a single generation, they were all gone.” She sighed, and it seemed for a moment I could see the weight of ages as she looked backwards. “It began simply, and slowly. Their eggs changed. Just a few at first, turned dark and strange. They refused to hatch. All our tests showed they were viable, but some curse or poison left them trapped in stasis. And it spread rapidly. Within years not a single unaffected egg was laid. And nothing anyone tried, Pony or Changeling, made a difference. Worse, the eggs began to drain the magic from the land. It was slow, and certainly not subtle. We knew exactly what was happening. But it could not be denied that they had become a menace. And yet we could not destroy them. They were our friend’s children, their only hope for the future.” She looked at me sadly, and I was shocked to see tears in her eyes even after all the centuries. I’ve often wondered how she lasts through the ages when she cares so much. “I still remember the day Queen Apocrita declared defeat. She swore that they would never again threaten Equestria, and that a life lived in friendship was worth everything that might have come after. And so they carried their eggs far away, to desolate lands where they would harm no one, in hope for a better future where they could be cured. And they returned to Equestria, to live out the rest of their lives in peace. I thought the last Changeling had died well over five hundred years ago, and there was nothing I could do to save her.” “And yet here they are again.” “Here they are. And history repeats itself. I need to know what happened. I have heard rumors and seen references to other times this has come to pass. The signs were there, once I knew to look for them. A hive of Changelings is reformed, only to be cursed to collapse and die. And few have ended with the dignity Apocrita brought them. Someone, or something, does not want to allow Changelings to live in peace, and before long it will come for Thorax and his people. Daring, I need you to be my eyes in the past. See for me now what I could not at the time. This must not happen again.” I nodded, and gulped. And I thought my thesis was high stakes. Now it was only the fate of an entire race that hung on my research skills and Octarine level clearance. No pressure. “Of course, Princess. I won’t fail you, I promise.” And she smiled, and it was like the sun came back. “I know,” she said, and she said it with such absolute confidence that I almost believed it myself. > Ghosts of the Past > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A tip for all aspiring adventurers out there. Dramatic promises are all very well, but they don’t do much to sustain you after your third all nighter in a row. They’re also really hard on a conversation. What do you even say after that kind of thing? Do you talk about the weather? So do yourself a favor and prepare a couple of multipurpose rejoinders to get things going again, and refresh your memory of them before any important meeting until they feel spontaneous. Seriously, I can’t emphasize this enough. It comes up way more often than you’d think. Personally I go for the self-deprecating quip, but find your own style. In any case, whatever you find works for you, Celestia and I managed to relax for a time after the initial heavy conversation. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me to bring a board game from somewhere I’ve traveled when we meet, mostly because a game she’s never played is the only place I can keep up. She’s been a master of chess since before the Magii pieces could move without hopping. And I’m not looking forward to what will happen when I can’t find a new one. Today we played a game called Thud, with Yaks against Ponies, and talked happily until Celestia was called away by her duties. “Do take care of yourself, Daring,” she said, a warm smile glowing in the setting sun. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I really do hope you come back with all your limbs working this time.” “Well, you know, it’s a dangerous assignment your Highness,” I replied, cocking my hat at a roguish angle. “Wandering the dread wastes of Ark’kive, avoiding bibliodons and the dread Thesaurus, forced to subsist on nothing but stale croissants and lukewarm coffee… you may never see me again.” “And that would be a tragedy for Equestria on a scale the Elements themselves couldn’t repair. Beware the Thesaurus especially, for it works on the tongue of its prey. And I will have use for yours quite soon if I have my way.” She paused just long enough for me to begin to cough and splutter. “You resume teaching at the Academy in a few short months yes?” “I...um...yes. Yes I do,” I managed to choke out. One of these days I’m going to have to accept that Celestia is just better at this than I am. “Excellent. Education is the future of Equestria you know, and your lecturing talents are renowned. Till we meet again then Daring, and I hope it is not too long.” She swirled and vanished around the corner as I struggled to bow, reply, or do anything particularly coherent. A giggle tinkled through the air. It was, of course, enchanting. I did, in fact, immediately set out for the Royal Canterlot Archive and begin my research. There was a lot of work to do, and every Changeling was counting on me. And besides, I’d promised Celestia. I set to it with a will. However, as I mentioned, promises are cold comfort when you find yourself in the stacks and hear the birds begin to make a racket outside for the third time in a row. I had begun by tracking down all of Celestia’s leads and rumors, of course, and taken notes on the few records of the war with Hive Mantodea. My degree isn’t for nothing, and even a Princess can’t know everything. But they were mostly second and third hand sources citing works more than a thousand years old, most of which didn’t exist anymore. They were certainly suggestive, and it formed a pattern when taken together. But, as Celestia had said, only when you knew what to look for. It was like an optical illusion of data, the skull that appears from a young courting couple that you can’t unsee. And just like an illusion or a ghost, there was nothing substantive to grab on to. I shook my head at that morbid thought, and tried to refocus. Despite what you'd expect, the vast majority of an archaeologist’s work is in the library. Dodging traps, psychopathic rivals, and forgotten monsters of myth is only twenty percent of the job. Thirty at most. And so I was quite familiar with this phase of the investigation. It’s more or less inevitable when facing a real challenge. The part where you've exhausted all your leads and your clever insights have come to naught. It’s tempting to throw your hooves up in despair. Here’s another adventuring tip for free. Don’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re dead tired and flat out of inspiration. Take a rest, take a meal, take a break, but never despair. As my dad used to say, moments like these separate the warthogs from the gazelles. It’s all well and good to leap along effortlessly in your brilliance, but eventually you’ll hit the rough patch. And that’s when you need somepony who will dig in and plow through. The world belongs to those who make the effort when it’s not easy anymore. So I sat there, trying to shake the old skull image from my mind. Why was it so thoroughly stuck? Maybe it was time for some fresh air. I tried to ignore the chorus of creaks and cracks as I stood and stretched. I have literally heard animated skeletons that sounded less stereotypical than I did at that moment. For a start most of them don’t actually groan. No tongues. I decided to stop by the Owls Nest on the way out. It’s the Archive’s official unofficial cafe. And one of the lesser known perks of Octarine Clearance, aside from free travel and instant access to any book or non-military record in Equestria, is that the Owl’s Nest will serve you coffee made to Princess Luna’s personal recipe. It’s literally the only place you can get it outside the palace kitchens, and it’s so strong you need a stiff drink before you take it to come out even. Caffeinated death in a cup. Remember kids, sanity is best in moderation. Please drink responsibly. With a cup of lunar coffee, a few doughnuts from Pony Joe’s, and a park bench as the dawn broke over Canterlot, I was feeling almost equine again. Or at the very least like death warmed over. Even if the blasted stuff was reminding me that I’d be paying for this the rest of the week. I wasn’t exactly in grad school anymore. Cool mist flowed through the park, and I nodded quietly in the direction of the castle as the sun cleared the horizon. It was as a perfect moment, as quiet as a city ever gets. The loudest sound was the singing of the cicadas. And the few others out at this hour drifted by in the fog like ghosts. Wait. Ghosts. I began to laugh then. I may prefer the facts and figures of scholarship to the more nebulous tricks of Princess Luna’s realm, but even I can eventually recognize when my subconscious has been trying to drive a point through my thick skull. I tipped the last of my coffee in an unintentionally ironic toast to the Princess of Dreams, and began trotting to the train station. I already had a go bag stored there, and I was eager to get started again now that I had a real plan. I needed to get the quickest train to the Crystal Empire. Really, I can’t believe it hadn’t occurred to me sooner. My only excuse was a lifetime of habit and not knowing it existed. The Crystal Empire had returned with a royal library and archive a millennia out of date...which was exactly what I needed. And moreover, I happened to know that the best source of living history in Equestria was there conducting his own research. And he predated both the Empire and Equestria by centuries. Not only had he probably read my primary sources, for all I knew he had written them himself. It was time to visit Stygian the Scribe. I had always wanted a chance to talk to one of the Pillars, ever since they had returned from Limbo. But without being, you know, a fanfilly about it. I know all about dealing with that from the other end. But here was legitimate, Princess mandated business! I had so many questions, I could hardly wait. My elation is my only excuse for why I didn’t see the griffon tough until she dragged me into an alley and had her claws at my throat. > The Dynamic Duo > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A number of thoughts flashed through my head as she lifted me by the neck and slammed me against the wall. She clearly didn’t want me dead just yet. The one-limb lifting slam is a classic for intimidation, but only among amateurs with more muscles than sense. It’s way too easy to escape. That and the nervous glance up and down the alley before she, yes, leaned forward to glare in my face was a dead giveaway that she was new to the game. Probably in over her head. I suppressed my instinctive response (counter number three, headbutt followed by double legged buck to the chest) and decided to listen to what she had to say. Thinking on it, it’s possible I have entirely too much experience being jumped by thugs. “Alright dork, listen up,” she growled. “You’ve got some real nasty customers following you. And they aren’t friendly like me.” She tried for an intimidating smirk. It...didn’t work. “So you’re going to do what I say and maybe, if you’re very very lucky, we’ll be able to save your fuzzy pony flank. Got it?” I would have raised my eyebrows if I wasn’t more concerned with being able to breathe. The other reasons only amateurs go for the neck lift is that it makes conversation difficult. I quickly nodded, urgently gesturing to her talon while carefully avoiding struggling. Your typical griffin, struggling makes them instinctively grip harder. But.. “Oh, right,” she said sheepishly, and let go. I thumped to the ground, internally nodding to myself. Yep, your typical in-over-their-head thug isn’t used to violence. They’ll stop once they’ve won, unless they’ve really nerved themselves up. Oh Harmony. I really, really have too much practice at this. “Well...good! Good. Glad to see you know what’s good for you.” She paced a circle nervously before turning to glare at me again. “That was easier than I thought. You sure you’re really Daring Do?” I briefly considered pulling the old body double routine. This one looked like the type to fall for it. But then I wouldn’t learn anything. “Hey, we all have our bad days,” I said, getting up and brushing myself off. I made a point to adjust the angle of my hat. “Besides, it’s not every day I get ambushed.” True, by technicality at least. “And it’s not just anycreature who can get the drop on me either. Good work on that grab.” Eh, blatant flattery never hurts. And encouraging poor practices in your enemies is just common sense. “Heh, yeah, I am pretty awesome,” she said, polishing her claws on her feathers before wincing for some reason. Huh. “I can tell. Definitely a different quality than the usual muscle I deal with.” Also technically true. “Who are you anyway, and who has the luck to have a bird like you on their side?” “You don’t need to know that. What matters now is…” “GILDA? Hey Gilda where are you? Gildaaaa...oh, there you are!” I raised my eyebrows as another griffin touched down in the alley. The first, Gilda apparently, smacked her face with her claws. “Darn it you moron, what did I tell you? Three times? Starts with ‘Don’t’ and ends with ‘use our real names’?” “You said to not use our real names, because only an idiot would use their real name on a secret mission! So I thought, if everyone knows that, then I should call you by your real name. Because then a real hero like Daring Do would think your real name was anything but your real name!’ She nodded to herself in satisfaction. Gilda stared. “Gee, finally a good idea from you… that you just explained in front of Daring!” “Oh I sure did…’Gilda’,” she replied with a broad wink and an elbow, before turning to me and extending a friendly talon. “Hi! I’m Gabby!” “Daring Do. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I suppose.” I shook her claw in bemusement. Even among the most rank of amateurs, this was not how these encounters usually went. I took a moment to look at the pair of them again, now I was pretty sure this wouldn't turn into a real fight. Gilda, a powerful cross between a bald eagle and a lion, currently grinding her beak in frustration at her companion. And Gabby, an osprey crossed with a grey lynx. They were a study in contrasts. Hard and soft, talky and taciturn. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gabby was humble to match Gilda’s obvious vanity. Griffins believe in a whole system of traits and talents from their animal combinations, and some of them get as intense about it as we ponies do with cutie marks. I didn’t know if I believed it myself, and I sure didn’t have the charts memorized. But I was pretty sure these two would never have chosen each other’s company, had been stuck together on purpose, and that with a few years experience they’d either be a great team or tear each other apart. Griffins also believe in improvement through conflict. “So...you two are with the GIS?” I asked. It was a shot in the dark, but not as much as you’d think. I’d dealt with the Griffin Intelligence Service before, and I recognized that particular brand of crazy logic. Gilda puffed up her chest and nodded. “Yeah. Provisional Special Investigators Gilda and Gabby.” I nodded. It explained a lot. Griffin Special Investigators were part of a mutual treaty with Equestria. A type of ‘official’ spy, like ambassadors, who accepted certain limits in return for immunity from prosecution. Celestia said that the more Griffons knew, and especially the more they thought they were getting away with, the less likely it was that they’d start a war over a misunderstanding. It was also usually considered an introductory position. ‘Provisional Special Investigator’ was spy speak for ‘so fresh it hasn’t been picked yet’. “Well, good to know I’m dealing with professionals at least,” I said aloud. Technically true, as I at least presumed they were being paid. Though with the Griffin government you can never be sure. “That doesn’t explain why the GIS has agents following an archaeologist though.” Gilda scoffed. “Gee, maybe it has something to do with the fact that the last time someone stole a major cultural artifact it ended with a Capran juggling the sun? How Equestria has been stockpiling cultural relics and that led to magic being drained from the whole continent? Not to mention that incident with the Tears of Ymir.” I had to admit she had a point. “Yeah! And so they had us following you in case you ran off to get some big treasure so we could steal it first. And then we noticed all the other people following you, and started spying on them too. And then they got all excited because you went to the castle and had a big new research project. And Gilda said ‘We have to save her!’ and…” “I...I did not!” Gilda sputtered. “We just couldn’t let them steal the treasure first, that’s all.” I facehoofed. Fans. Fans who were spies. Fans who were incompetent spies. Just great. I could feel the effects of the coffee wearing off just with proximity to the madness. This was going to be one of those adventures, I just knew it. Thanks Celestia. “So you decided that you’d kidnap me, and keep me safe from the other bad guys to steal the treasure yourselves?” “Yeah!” “What? Hey! No! Gabby that’s wrong! We weren’t going to kidnap you. We were going to trick you. Big difference.” I shook my head. “Well sorry to disappoint ladies, but there’s no treasure this time. This is pure research.” “Uh huh! Suuuure there’s no treasure,” said Gabby with another broad wink. “Really though, what is it? I’m so excited! I bet Gilda it had to do with the Dromaed. Their feathers are so handsome in all the pictures.” “No, really,” I said with a frown. “There’s no treasure or artifact or secret amulet. Didn’t you look at my notes?” “Pfft, what, that nerd stuff? No,” Gilda scoffed. I facehoofed again. Of course they hadn’t. I try to be open minded about stereotypes, but Gilda really wasn’t doing her people any favors. “Research? Really? What are you studying?” Gabby chirped, her face showing apparently genuine curiosity. “It’s…” I began, and then caught myself. Right. Political sensitivity. Dire implications for our alliances. Spies. “...something I can’t tell you about,” I finished lamely. “Mm hm. Suuuure you can’t.” Another wink. I was starting to hate those winks. “I can’t! But look, just ask the other people spying on me. They’ll know, even if you didn’t go through my notes yourself.” “Yeah, no. Those dweebs couldn’t sneak a look either. We know, we were watching.” “You don’t sleep very much,” Gabby helpfully chimed in. “And after a while you were doing that twitchy eye thing where you jump at small noises. Oh! Gilda! That reminds me, the other spies! I saw them at the end of the street with a bunch of tough looking sorts. I think they were heading this way. I came to warn you.” Gilda and I both froze. We turned to look at the ends of the alley, where we had apparently acquired an audience. One of them had popcorn. You just can’t get good help these days. “Right,” said Gilda, with the tone of one who has made a snap decision. “Daring, hit the roof. We’ll get you the time to escape. And then we will continue this conversation later.” “What, really? Are you sure?” I said, turning to her in surprise. Sure they had been planning to betray me, but that’s half the people I meet. I’d still feel bad just flying off. “You look tough, but there’s a lot of them, and Gabby doesn’t seem like much of a fighter.” “What was that?” I turned around to a worrying clinking sound. Gabby’s talons were full of several vials that glowed worrying colors, and she had an unsettling grin. “Never mind.” “Yeah, don’t worry about us. Get out of here, nerd girl.” I nodded and took off, while Gilda pounced with a roar and Gabby threw a vial that enveloped the alley in a cloud of sweet smelling purple smoke. The sounds of the fight followed me as I ran for it. “Ow! Oh yeah? Try that again you horn headed pansy! It is so on it’s almost off again!” “Whee! You saved Daring Do! Your Dashie will be so jealous!” “She is not my Dashie! Don’t think when I’m done with these bozos I won’t have more left for you!” I zoomed away, making a beeline for the train station, the sounds fading quickly behind me. They’d be fine, I reassured myself repeatedly. I knew my luck. There was no way they wouldn’t be pestering me again. And that bunch had looked looked like bottom-barrel goons at best. I hoped they made it out okay. The train station is much closer when you’re running for your life than when you are taking a leisurely dawn stroll. And fortunately, even at this early hour there were plenty of trains to the Crystal Empire. A quick flash of my badge for a ticket, pulling my go bag from the long term storage locker, and inside an hour I was in a private compartment watching Mount Canter pull away into the distance. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. So, apparently everyone and their dog thought I was off on another treasure hunt and were circling like magpies round a dragon hoard. Just wonderful. My head was aching from a mix of frustration and exhaustion. I really hoped that sometime on the trip the coffee would wear off enough to sleep, so I could at least function when I arrived at the other end. And that none of my enemies had managed to follow me and sneak onto the train to ambush me in my sleep. With that cheerful thought, I reached into my bag and pulled out some books. I hadn’t quite scoured them clean yet, and at the very least I wanted my notes properly organized when I presented the problem to Stygian. Between the review of old material, the noise of the train, and the griffon dynamic duo having worn the edge off the coffee, I was sleeping on my book inside of five minutes.