> A Week in the Rainbow Factory > by bahatumay > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Octave sat with his back to the wall of the cart. He just looked down, not even noticing the other five ponies with him in the cart. So this is what happened to failures. In all honesty, he had expected to fail his flight test from the beginning. He had never been much of a flier. Never had been, never really expected to be. But he hadn’t actually expected to fail. Now it was actually happening. His aunt in Ponyville said that they had so few pegasi there that their flight test was just a simple question: Can you fly? But no. He had had to stay here in Cloudsdale. He had had to take their test. And he had failed drastically. He had the dubious honor of being the only one of their group to get three hooves down. He’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so worried. He wondered what his life would be like now. Rumors abounded about what happened to those who failed their tests. Exile was a common theory, but he had heard from a neighbor's friend's cousin that one pegasus who failed had eventually returned to Cloudsdale, so he tried to keep his spirits up. Which is amazingly hard to do when you're bouncing along in the back of a crowded wagon listening to two stallions who probably hadn't showered in a month discuss what they termed 'the hot piece of flank at the Cool Cloud last night'. He suppressed a small whimper and pushed himself back into the wall of the cart. Whatever he had been expecting, it was certainly not to arrive at the Rainbow Factory. It was certainly not to be herded into the lower level of the Factory by ponies in white coats wielding shocksticks. And it most definitely was not being lectured by a red pegasus with a white mane calling himself Dr. Atmosphere. “You are in the Factory. You will never leave the Factory. Any rumors that you will leave are pure and utter nonsense. I have also heard mutterings that you are useless. That's also nonsense, let me assure you. You have a noble purpose, with an effect both far and wide! You get to help us make…” here he paused for dramatic effect, “-rainbows!” Octave flinched, and not just in reaction to the spittle that had landed on his face. So that was his fate. Physical labor was not his forte by any means. He wasn't the strongest of colts, and judging by the ponies he saw working here, there weren't any small ones. Those valves did look pretty heavy and hard to turn, and- Wait. He looked around again to confirm what he already knew. There were no other small ponies there. Every single uniformed pony was definitely a grown-up. So where were the other young ponies that had failed? The other foals that had come here before his group? Not knowing or caring about Octave's internal musings, Dr. Atmosphere continued. “Doesn't that excite you? It excites me.” One colt giggled, obviously taking that last sentence in a dirty way. “Ooh, I'm glad I'm not alone!” Dr. Atmosphere said cheerily, trotting over to the one who had laughed. “Would you like to talk about what's so exciting about rainbows?” The colt nodded hesitantly, unsure about being singled out like this. Octave scanned the crowd again. Most of the workers were grinning, or nudging each other at some inside joke. Suddenly, his eyes were drawn to a yellow pegasus with a light blue mane. She pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and watched. To Octave's surprise, her eyes seemed to be filled with... pity? It was such a foreign expression compared to the other ponies who were chuckling, if they were even paying attention. No, scratch that. Everypony was now paying attention. Dr. Atmosphere straightened up again and addressed the crowd. “Who here knows what rainbows are made of?” There was silence among the foals. Finally, one filly raised a hoof. “Spectra?” she guessed. “Correct!” Dr. Atmosphere beamed. “And where does spectra come from?” There was some awkward shuffling among the foals. One hazarded a guess. “Magic?” “Not quite!” Dr. Atmosphere kept scanning the crowd, grinning and looking very much like a demented school teacher. “Nopony? Very well. I'll answer this one. Live ponies!” There was more of an awkward shuffling, and the colt that spoke up at first raised his hoof. “So how do you get it out?” he asked. Dr. Atmosphere smiled, a thin smile that sent shivers up Octave's back. “Funny you should ask…” Octave walked slowly back, following a deep blue mare he didn't recognize. His eyes were wide and he was just completely shocked at what he had just witnessed. Others were sobbing or even crying openly, but he was silent. He had no words to describe what he had just seen. A colt just like him was just breathing, just fine, and then chains and then his ribs were cracked and the machine just kept grinding and grinding and grinding and- Before his mind could go further down deconstructing what he had just seen, he ran into the mare’s flanks, knocking himself back onto his tail. She shook her head and muttered something that sounded vaguely like ‘mucking failures’ before opening a door made of thick bars and gesturing inside. Behind the door stood tall cages all in a row, made of a chain-link material, much like the ones Octave had seen at the pound when he had visited the earth ponies on that field trip. “Get,” she ordered coldly. “Three to a cage.” The foals needed no second command. As they scampered inside, she followed, locking each door behind them. The rooms were made of compressed cloud, stuff so thick that Octave didn’t think it would ever work loose. The entire room must have been half the size of his bedroom at home, and there were no amenities at all. There weren’t even any bunks to sleep on. He looked at his two cellmates and whimpered quietly. “Prison’s better than this,” one colt muttered. The blue mare slammed her shockstick against the cage wall, making them jump. “Prison’s too good for the likes of you,” she retorted. “Now sleep well, failures. Tomorrow’s a busy day!” And with that, the mare locked the main gate and walked away. Octave lay down and tried to get comfortable. It was a losing affair. The compressed cloud might as well have been concrete. However, not all the foals had resigned themselves to their dismal fate just yet. As soon as the mare had left, a colt in the cage across from Octave began digging, trying to use his own hooves to get through the cloud layer. Faster and faster he worked, but judging by his grunts of frustration, he wasn’t getting far. “Don’t bother.” All the foals jumped at the sound of a new voice. Standing behind the main door was that same yellow mare Octave recognized from earlier. She still wore her lab coat and goggles, pushed back up on her forehead. With a weak smile, she continued, “Each square brick of this cloud is compressed from a forty by forty cumulonimbus. Trust me. It’s not coming loose.” “How do they do that?” a filly whispered reverently. The mare shrugged. “This is the Cloudsdale Weather Center. There’s not a lot we can’t do.” The colt who had been digging stopped and straightened up, staring defiantly. “So it’s compressed tight. So what?” The mare fished in a pocket for a ring of keys. With a little jangle, she unlocked the main gate and stepped inside. “So if you want to get out, what you need is somepony on the inside.” She stopped in front of the cage of the colt who had spoken and poked a hoof through the bars in invitation for bumping. “Raindrops,” she introduced herself. The colt looked down at her hoof and back up at her, clearly distrustful, and did not return the gesture. Raindrops sighed and withdrew her hoof. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” she conceded. “But look. I’m here to help. I don’t want to see more foals die than I have to, so I’m going to help all of you that I can get out of here.” “Not all of us?” Raindrops looked over at the filly that had spoken and frowned. “I don’t work every day, sweetie,” she said gently. “And even when I do, I’m not always on failure duty. There are a lot of jobs here.” She smiled wryly. “Seems that once management started noticing that lots of failures started disappearing when I was around, I’ve been getting more and more assignments to clean and do paperwork than actually transport.” She walked over to the filly’s cage and knelt down to look her in the eyes. “But I promise, I’ll do everything I can to get as many of-” “Raindrops!” Raindrops’ eyes flew open and a mild epithet left her lips. She sprinted out of the main door and closed it as quietly as she could, while shouting, “Yeah! And then, and then, you get fed into the Device one by one! See? Extract your spectra! That’s what you get for failing, worthless losers!” “Save it, Raindrops, you’re not fooling anypony.” Raindrops turned and looked at the pegasus behind her. Even from behind two doors, Octave couldn't help but take an instinctive step back. This mare was huge. Her light green wings must have extended at least three times his span, and her short purple mane and intimidating stare made it look like she was more sizing Raindrops up as a meal than as an actual threat. “Oh, hey, Blizz,” Raindrops said with just a hint of nervousness. “I didn’t see you there.” “Like hay you didn’t,” Blizz said airily. “You been talking with the failures again?” “No,” Raindrops scoffed. “You’re as useless as they are. Remember what the Boss Mare said about catching you in here when you’re not on shift again?” “I- it’s not like they can fire me,” Raindrops said, putting on a show of bravado. “You know how hard it is to get ponies to work here.” “Maybe,” Blizz conceded. “But if you do get fired, that means more overtime for me.” She smirked. “Actually, I think I like this idea. Wonder what she’d say…” Raindrops wilted a bit at this implied threat. “I can give you my shift tomorrow?” she offered weakly. “Morning shift, five to ten?” Blizz nodded smugly. “I think that will work. See you tomorrow, Raindrops. Oh wait, I won’t.” Chuckling at her own joke, Blizz continued down the passage. Raindrops glowered. “Blizzard is such a…” She looked back at the foals and ended her sentence there. “Like I said, I’m not supposed to be here right now, and now I’m not going to be here tomorrow,” she added under her breath, “but the day after I should be able to get something done.” She rested a hoof on the bars. “I promise, I’ll help as many of you as I can.” Octave watched her leave. He couldn’t smile, but for the briefest of moments, he wanted to. > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This waiting was probably the worst part. There was no clock in here, no windows, the light never changed. There was no way to mark the passage of time. His cellmates, a stocky colt and a gangly filly, were similarly quiet, or nervous, or not wanting to draw attention to themselves, but nopony in the room seemed to want to be the first to speak.  Maybe they, like he, were wondering if this were all just a bad dream. Maybe he’d wake up in his bed, ready to take his flight test. The outer door screeched open, sounding almost hauntingly melodic. His perfect pitch translated the sound into corresponding notes. E F G A Bb.  Two ponies entered, walking up to a random cage. One was holding a shockstick, while a second carried a strange metal pole with a long wire loop around one end. The first opened the door with a key, and the second slipped inside. Octave realized its purpose right as she used it. She looped it over the head of a small yellow filly, and she tugged much harder on the line than she needed to. The filly gagged as the wire tightened around her neck, and her cellmates could only stare in horror as she dragged her out of the cage room. The pegasus with the shockstick locked the door behind them as they left, and that seemed to be that. Octave slowly sunk to his haunches. This answered the question of what would happen to them. He laid back down, but he already knew sleep wasn’t going to come. How could it? Not when any moment could be his last. But some of the other foals weren’t about to take this laying down. The shock had worn off, and they were starting to talk.  “Look, if they only come in two at a time, we outnumber them,” a filly was saying. “It’s a three on two. We can run out, grab the keys, and get everypony out.” “And then what?” another asked irritably.  “We take their weapons and get out of here!” “In case you didn’t notice, none of us can fly,” another pointed out, flaring his little wings. “And we’re in a factory up in the sky.” “No, but I’d rather not die grinded up like a peppercorn, if that’s alright with you,” the filly in the next cell interjected.  “We don’t have a chance.” “Not with that attitude, we don’t,” another said disparagingly. “But if all of us get out-” Octave curled up, trying to block out the arguing. He didn’t want any part of this. He just wished he could go home.   Octave jumped as the main door opened, the melodic creaking sounding harsh. He and his cellmates all pressed themselves against the wall, all having come to the same conclusion that it might be better to not be seen right away.  This strategy might have paid off. The worker, a blue stallion, selected one of the other cages.  There was just one worker to collect this time. Octave held his breath. Would they try it? They would. One colt darted to the side, as if to draw his attention, and the other leaped at him, swinging wildly. The other filly raced around, her goal the open door. But he was ready for this. He ignored the first colt, as he was running to the side closed off by the open cage door, and used the body of his shockstick to block the second colt by driving it up into his muzzle. A sickening crunch rang out, and he hit the ground hard. Then, he whipped around the active end and clipped the tip of the filly’s hind leg with the prongs.  That slight contact was enough. She yelped as her whole body convulsed, rolled over in the air, and hit the ground. She slid across the floor, legs splayed out and spinning like a young foal on ice.  This stunned the other colts into stopping. They stared. He nonchalantly kicked the cage door shut. “Thank you for volunteering,” he said brightly, which contrasted sharply with the cruel stomp he delivered to her stomach.  She cried out and curled up defensively.  “Come on,” he ordered, but she didn’t seem to be able to move. With an exasperated sigh, he leaned over, bit down on her wing, and began dragging her backwards down the hall, decidedly disregarding her continuing cries of pain.  The door crashed shut, and nopony said a word. The room was silent, aside from a few quiet whimpers of pain as the second colt tried to stop his bleeding muzzle.  The revolution had been decidedly crushed. The main door creaked open again, and every foal jumped up, terrified that they would be chosen next. But this time, it was Blizz, carrying trays on her massive back and her outstretched wings. With a careless movement, she slid them along the ground towards the cages. On top was a meager assortment of bland-looking food.  The tray she slid towards Octave’s cage didn’t get close enough for them to grab. Irritably, Blizz kicked it over, spilling most of the food off as the tray skittered across the ground and closer to the cage.  Octave couldn’t remember what he’d last eaten. Breakfast, his mom had made waffles, was that yesterday? It didn’t really matter; the other colt in his cage had reached through and grabbed all that he could, stuffing it in his mouth. This earned him a dope slap from the filly, but he just growled at her.  Octave looked down. He wasn’t sure he could eat anyway. Not after what he’d seen. His stomach just felt tied up in knots- A soft pressure on his flank made him jump.  The filly was there, holding a torn part of a bread roll. She held it out to him.  He smiled thankfully and ate it slowly. It was as bland and tasteless as it had looked, but somehow that had made it a little bit better.  > Chapter 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Octave was suddenly awoken by the sound of the outer door creaking again. It would have been a hauntingly fun melody, if it wasn’t such a harbinger of impending doom. He sat up, disoriented, his heart pounding. In front of the cage at the end closest to the door, two ponies stood, the stallion with a shockstick and the mare with a catchpole.  Two of the cage occupants were pressed against the wall, clearly terrified that one of them would be chosen, but one colt was still asleep in the middle. He must have been a heavy sleeper; his hind leg kicked weakly but he didn’t stir.  The worker loomed over him, her smile widening, her catchpole at the ready. Octave winced at the imminent rude awakening he would be receiving. And then she whipped it over and grabbed the other colt pressed against the wall around the neck and pulled him to the ground. He choked in surprise, his visible relief instantly becoming horror, but didn’t have time for anything else before she dragged him away.  “It’s like they’re choosing somepony we don’t expect,” the filly in his cage murmured. Octave thought so, too, and honestly, that frightened him. This was not like music at all. With music, there were rules and patterns, and here, there was none of that. He didn’t even know what time it was, and he didn’t dare ask. The main door creaked open, but quieter this time. Octave still moved away from the grate, but that had struck him as odd. Raindrops rushed in. “Alright,” she said quickly, her chest heaving. “My shift hasn’t technically started yet, so I don’t think anypony will notice if I’m not at my station right away. I can take one of you, but we have to move now.” There was a brief pause as they processed this sentence. And then the foals exploded into chatter, pushing to the front, pleading desperately with her to take them. “No, no! Shh!” Raindrops hissed, urgently waving them down. “You’re gonna get us caught!” She looked around and pointed at a colt in the back. “You,” she said, opening the cage door and gesturing him over. “Come on, come on!” The colt didn’t stop to question his luck. He darted out, ignoring the protests of his cellmates. “Alright,” Raindrops said as she shut the cage door and faced the main one. “The clouds here are compressed, the ones up top are not. Once you’re outside, grab a chunk of cloud, and you should be able to steer yourself down.” “What if a guard sees me?” Raindrops shook her head. “No guards outside,” she said. “It’s called security through obscurity. If there were guards flying around, ponies would want to know what’s so special that it needs protecting. Once you’re out, you’re home free.” Octave’s ears pricked. She’d thought this out. That promise of freedom suddenly sounded a lot more valid--and a lot more possible. “Alright. Stay calm, stay calm.” “I am calm,” the colt protested. “I’m talking to myself,” Raindrops said. She blew out a puff of air. “Let’s go.” Octave watched them leave. He wasn’t sure how he felt. It wasn’t him, which wasn’t good. But somepony was getting out of here, and that was good. So that probably evened out, somehow. Octave lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, thinking once again that he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. He knew how many other failures had been taken, three (not counting the one Raindrops had freed). None from his cage yet, but it was only a matter of time before their number came up.  The door creaked open again, and he jumped up and backed against the wall. It was probably bad to be moving to draw attention like that, but it was still instinctive. A pony that looked like somepony’s grandma entered, and then to his surprise, he recognized the second pony entering. Raindrops was back. “Let’s take these two,” the grandma said, pointing at two cages.  One of which was Octave’s.  “Fine by me,” Raindrops said. She banged on his cage with the butt of her shockstick. “Your turn,” she said. “Walkies!” She gave them a surreptitious wink as she unlocked the door and stepped back. “Don’t get any ideas,” she warned them, still in her gruff voice. “This is just a quick walk, nothing more.” None of the foals moved.  Raindrops sighed. “None of you are going in the Device,” she said tiredly. “Not yet, anyway,” she amended hurriedly with a quick glance over her shoulder at the other worker.  “We learned that if you don’t get a little physical activity in, the spectra isn’t as bright,” the grandma pony explained. “We could just use more fresher failures, but you know, waste not.” Her smile was sickly sweet, and Octave flinched.  Her smile deepened, seemingly gratified at his reaction.   Warily, he stepped out, slightly comforted by Raindrops’ presence but still not sure about this whole situation. His other two cellmates followed, and he felt a little better. He looked between the two. Could this be the chance to escape? He neared Raindrops, intending to ask but not sure how. “Not now. I’m being watched,” Raindrops murmured preemptively, keeping her mouth closed and not looking down at him. Octave nodded but tried to hide it, and backed off. He didn’t want her to get in trouble.  Once all the foals were out, Raindrops led the way as the grandma pony kept the rear, her shockstick at the ready. Any further hope of escape vanished when they got to the floor. They may have only had two escorts, but they were walking on what was effectively a long catwalk with no barriers, and ponies with shocksticks lounged on the sides, watching them pass. One mare gently stroked hers while she watched them pass, like she was hoping for a chance to use it. Octave instinctively moved behind Raindrops’ legs. “Is that another group?” another foal asked, pointing down at a lower level.  The group moved over to look. A couple other foals were down there, all of them looking like they were exhausted and dragging themselves along, also escorted by two workers with shocksticks. Will I end up like that? Octave wondered. Those foals barely looked alive.  “Yep,” Raindrops said roughly. “We’ve got a couple storage cages here. You know, we used to keep you all together in one huge room, but that got shut down thanks to the Incident, so that’s why we switched to the groups setup.” “What happened in the Incident?” “Shh!” Raindrops hissed, spinning around and shoving a hoof in the speaker's mouth. She looked around nervously. “Do you want them to hear you? Bringing up the Incident is one sure way to make sure she puts you next in line for the Device. Keep your mouth shut.” The colt nodded, his eyes wide in fright. He didn’t know who ‘she’ was, and right now he didn’t want to.  Raindrops dropped her hoof and continued walking.  They made the rest of their way around the factory in relative silence, until the end. Octave’s eyes caught movement, and he looked up. He gasped, causing the surrounding ponies to look up, too.  Hovering above them was a pony with a rainbow mane, wearing a black suit that had been splattered with what looked like blood, having a conversation with Dr. Atmosphere. Sensing she was being watched, she looked down at the group, and her cerise eyes narrowed.  Octave quickly averted his eyes and tucked his wings, instinctively trying to make himself look small. This could only have been ‘she’. The Boss Mare. Another colt kept looking up, seemingly unable to look away from her.  “Don’t make eye contact,” the grandma pony said, giving him a rough bump on the back of his head with the butt of her shockstick.  But as brusque as it had been, this time her voice had carried no malice.  Octave was sure there was something to that, but he had no intention of trying to find out. How strange was it that now he wanted to go back to the cage? Octave was crouched against the wall, pressing up against it, as if in hopes that he could phase through it. Visions of the rainbow-maned pony’s eyes still flicked through his memory, and he hated it. His filly cellmate pressed some of the canned alfalfa in his direction. “Come on. You have to eat something,” she urged. Octave nodded and ate slowly. It didn’t taste like anything, and he wasn’t hungry, but she was right; he had to eat.  The door creaked open again, and he choked. Instinctively, he went back to the wall.  The grandma pony was back, carrying a catchpole. She glanced across the room, and then selected a cage. His cage! He flinched as she opened the door, closing his eyes, imagining that he’d feel that cold wire wrap around his neck in a moment.  But his time here was not to end like this. The other colt, however, was not so lucky. “No! Please! Take one of them! Take one of them!” “But I’ve already got you, darling little colt,” the grandma pony said with a wicked smile.  “I’m not-! Please!” She flipped the catchpole over her shoulder, throwing him into the air and slamming him against the ground. Her voice turned vindictive, cutting over his groans of pain. “With a performance like that, do you really think you even deserve those wings? You’re a worthless pegasus and you deserve this, failure.” And with that, she dragged him through the room and out the door.  The filly looked down, as if mourning their cellmate. And then she leaned over and started eating the food he’d dropped. Octave gave her a sideways look, and then realized that she was right. He wouldn’t need it anymore, and they would. It didn’t stop him from feeling a little callous, but still. The thought that he’d live a little longer buoyed him ever so slightly, and he joined her. > Chapter 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The main door opened once again, making the foals jump; but this time, it was a more familiar face. Raindrops walked in, carefully balancing their daily food trays on her outstretched wings.  “Raindrops!” some of the foals cheered. “Hey, Feather. Scout. Cloudy,” she greeted some of the closer foals. She winced as she set the trays down, making sure to set them down easily within reach. “Looks like they’ve been taking a lot of you. I’m really sorry. I’ve been stuck doing a lot of paperwork.” It was a relief to see her face again. Even the bland breakfast—it was probably supposed to have been alfalfa on a bagel, but looked and tasted more like wilted grass on a cardboard square—seemed better.  “So I’ve got good news and bad news,” Raindrops said. “Good news, we’ve hit our quota of spectra.” “Quota?” one of the fillies asked. Raindrops nodded. “The Rainbow Factory works like any other. We get orders, and we fill them. Sometimes, we hit our quota early. Sometimes, we’re working until the last minute. We happened to hit it early this week. So that’s the good news: the Device is staying asleep for now. The bad news is, ponies are going to get really suspicious if I walk around with a foal until the new orders come, so I can’t get you out that way.” Octave felt his ears droop, and everypony else seemed to have the same reaction. “Oh, don’t look so glum, guys!” Raindrops said brightly. “You think this hasn’t happened before? This is the perfect time to get some of you out. Sure, the workers are everywhere, but they’re just showing up for a paycheck and don’t care about what else is happening. We’ll just have to be a little more… creative.” She glanced around and her eyes fell on one of the other fillies. Her brow furrowed. “What happened to your wings?” The filly in question quickly slammed her wings shut against her body, and her periwinkle cheeks colored instantly. “’m molting,” she answered in a low mumble, sounding embarrassed. “Molting… or mites?” Raindrops prompted, standing up, her ears pricking. “What?” “Feathers don’t have a lot of spectra. Otherwise we’d just keep all the ones we shed and use those. But if you have mites, that’ll taint the rainbow. I think I can use this,” she said eagerly.  “How?” “We keep a medic on staff,” Raindrops explained. “Mostly for workers, but you all, too. After all, you're worthless as spectra if you're dead. Or, in your case, infested with mites. I can take you out there and nopony will want to get close.” She gestured at her cellmate. “Could you pull out some more of her feathers? Just to help sell it in case we get stopped?” The filly spread her wings, and then gritted her teeth in pain as her cellmate did just that, pulling out a couple other feathers. Raindrops winced empathetically. “Yeah, that’s good,” she said, bending over and gathering the empty trays. “I’ll be back in a bit. Let me drop these off, and I’ll be back.” True to her word, Raindrops soon returned, taking the filly with her. Before long, she came back, a triumphant little smile on her face. “Got her out,” she said in a low whisper. “Told them I was taking her to the medics, and she jumped over the side before I could stop her. She’s home free.” Her cellmate smiled a half-smile. She still felt guilty about pulling out her feathers. Raindrops noticed. “I know, it wasn’t fun; but you did good, Scout,” she said comfortingly. She brightened. “Here, I brought you all something else I think you’ll like.” She reached under her wing and pulled out a long loaf of bread. “Bread!” Feather said excitedly. “Sure is,” Raindrops said, breaking it apart and distributing it. “Better than whatever they’re giving you, anyway.” She stuck her tongue out. “I wouldn’t give that to a bird.”  Octave gratefully took his portion. It wasn’t warm, but it was leaps and bounds better than what they’d been served. The other foals felt similarly. “This is great,” one said. “It’s amazing,” another agreed. “Thanks,” Raindrops said, adjusting her hat as if to hide a blush. “Apparently, I'm really good at baking bread.” She leaned in, covering her mouth with her hoof. “Don't tell anypony, but I might be part earth pony.” The foals had to giggle at that.  “Don't worry, guys,” she said comfortingly. “I know it’s rough right now, but I’m going to get as many of you out of here as I-” “Raindrops!” Everypony present jumped at the sound of an angry voice. Bread hurriedly disappeared into mouths or behind wings.  That rainbow-maned pony from earlier, still wearing that bloodstained suit, marched up to Raindrops and put her face right up to hers. Her eyes narrowed. “Get out,” she growled, her voice a low rumble. Raindrops tried playing dumb. “What? I'm just-” The rainbow-maned pony’s lip curled up, revealing gritted teeth. “Get. Out,” she repeated. Raindrops scampered. The rainbow pony waited until she was out of sight before slumping over, her ears dropping, as if she were suddenly exhausted. She turned to glance at the quivering foals before quickly returning her gaze to the floor. She grimaced, shaking her head like she was trying to startle off a fly. “Don't listen to her,” she muttered, her eyes still scanning the ground.  Suddenly, she turned, reared up and slammed her hooves against the nearest grate. “Don't listen to her!” she roared, sending the foals skittering back in fright. Still breathing hard, she dropped her hooves back to the ground. “Don't listen to her,” she repeated once more, this time softly, and then she turned and walked away. The foals silently watched her leave. Nopony dared to say anything, just in case it brought her back, and it took a while before any were brave enough to retrieve their hidden bread. Octave tried to keep eating his, but just knowing she was here (and knowing that she clearly suspected Raindrops of something) meant it tasted like ash in his mouth. He hoped she’d be ok. > Chapter 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The outer door creaked open again. Some of the foals here had stopped jumping up at the sound. It was just part of life now, and they had accepted this. Octave wasn’t one of those yet, but he quickly came back to the front of the cage when he heard the other foals call out. “Raindrops!” “Hey, everypony,” Raindrops said quickly. “I’m technically on my break, but I came to say-” “You have more bread?” one asked hopefully. Raindrops winced and gestured to herself. She didn’t have any place to hide it. “In my locker. I’ll see what I can do later. I was going to say, I’m sorry you had to see that.” They didn’t need to ask to know what Raindrops was referring to. “I don’t like her,” one of the fillies said, and the others agreed. “Yeah, we’re all scared of her,” Raindrops said. “Ever since the Incident… I mean, she was unhinged before, but now, she’s ten pounds of crazy in a five pound sack.” She cracked a small smile. “She threatens Blizz with the Device at least once a week. Says she’s got enough spectra in her fat… uh, flank,” she said tactfully, “to bump an entire week of failures.” “What about you?” Octave had to ask. He didn’t want anything to happen to her. “She hates me,” Raindrops said easily. “But she hates everypony, and she can’t prove that I’m doing anything out of the ordinary, as much as she’d like to.” She smirked. “Believe me, I’m very good at covering my tracks.” “So what did happen in the Incident?” a braver filly asked.  Raindrops winced. “I really don’t…” She looked around and realized that everypony was looking expectantly at her. With a half-smile, she took a steadying breath. “Alright. Don’t go spreading this around, ok? This is secret stuff.” She sat down and scooted closer to the cages. “So every pegasus in Equestria has to take the flight test, right? Well, somepony she knew, somepony very close to her, ended up here, just like you. Long story short, she got put to a test of loyalty to the Factory, and she ended up Device-ing her herself; but I think she regrets doing it.” Raindrops pursed her lips. “And part of me wonders if she actually does know about what I do, and intentionally looks the other way.” She shook her head. “But you didn’t hear any of that from me,” she warned. She stood up and glanced down at her wrist and winced. “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll bring by more bread for you all later.” Octave waved goodbye as she left.  The more he thought about it, the more he hated this place. Maybe the rainbow-maned pony had been a good pony at one time. Maybe she’d had family, friends, maybe she could have five, or six good friends, because that’s how many colors she had in her mane. But that had been taken from her. And now, she struck terror in the heart of everypony else. Were rainbows really that important? The door creaked open again. Octave jumped. His cellmate seemed to be getting used to this, though. Her ears pinned, but she didn’t jump to her hooves anymore. He briefly wondered if that were a good thing or a bad thing. Another stallion and Blizz entered. “Come on, you lazy sacks,” he said, opening two cages. “Walk.” This part was familiar, now. Trudging along, not saying anything, making it around the circle without drawing any attention.  But this walk would be different. Octave noticed that the colt in front of him was looking to the side, looking over at the edge of the catwalk. Octave had thought it didn’t need rails because most pegasi could fly, but he quickly pieced together what he’d already figured out. With fewer in the group, there were fewer ponies guarding their walks. “Don’t do it,” one of his cellmates pleaded in a low whisper. The colt shook his head, but it was only to steady himself. With a quick glance at Blizz to make sure she wasn’t watching, he sprinted over and threw himself over the railing. Octave’s heart stopped. That had been horrifying, but at least he got to go out on his own t- And then his body was thrown back over. He hit the ground, still twitching.  “Alright! Two points!” crowed a mare as she flew back up, her shockstick still smoking. She stepped over him and angrily addressed the group at large. “Listen here, you useless sacks of horseapples. You belong to the Factory. You do not decide when you leave the Factory. The Factory decides, and there is only one. Way. Out.” She bit down on the nape of his neck and flew him up to one of the processing stations at the top of the Device. With a few quick movements, she’d strapped him to the table. “Hope we get that new order soon!” she called, loudly enough for the foals to hear. “Otherwise, you might be there a while!” She laughed at that thought. Nopony said anything else on the way back.   Octave chewed mechanically. His filly cagemate had split their tray evenly, and he was forcing himself to eat it. Really, if it hadn’t been for her, he probably wouldn’t have eaten anything.  Except Raindrops’ bread, that is. That was still just as good every time she brought it. The door creaked open again, and Raindrops entered, dragging a mop and a bucket. She seemed really happy to be doing cleanup work. “Hey, guys,” she said, hurriedly pulling the mop out and cleaning the cloud floor. It had been so compressed that it really was just like concrete, and a surprising amount of dirt came up as she cleaned. “Hey, Raindrops.” “Not today,” she said, preemptively answering the question. “I got called in, so I didn’t get to make any. I’m not technically on the schedule.” She grinned. “You’re looking really happy today,” one foal pointed out. “It’s a good day,” Raindrops said. “And I’m going to get one of you out,” she added. “With a mop bucket?” “You see a mop bucket. I see an escape route,” she whispered. Octave’s eyes widened. With the room more or less clean, Raindrops looked over, and her eyes fell on Octave. “Octave? You ready to get out of here?” Octave’s heart began racing. Freedom, finally within his grasp! He glanced over at his cellmate. The filly who had shared food, made him eat, helped keep him grounded, had helped him in so many ways. She’d even helped him sleep. She’d let him use her forelegs as a pillow when the floor got too hard, and that was the best sleep he’d gotten all... how long had he been in here? “No,” Octave said, almost surprising himself. “Take her.” Raindrops looked at him, then realized he was serious. She pursed her lips and nodded tightly. “You’re a good colt, Octave,” she said. “Indigo, you ready?” With a start, he realized that he’d never learned his cellmate’s name. He felt a little guilty about that. But that feeling went away when she darted over and wrapped her forelegs around him in a tight hug. Octave felt his cheeks start burning. Raindrops smiled.  Indigo climbed in the bucket, and crouched low, almost needing to submerse herself completely so she wouldn’t be seen. “We’re going to take it slow, ok?” Raindrops said. “Keep as still as you can, and I’ll do my best to not splash you. Just keep breathing.” Octave couldn’t help but smile. She was going to be ok, and that made everything ok. > Chapter 6 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The outer door creaked open. Octave had finally gotten used to this, and his heart no longer stopped when he heard that familiar, haunting tune. So many foals had been taken, and at this point, he was just waiting his turn. But when he saw who stood in the doorway, his heart stopped again. The rainbow-maned mare stood there, still wearing her black, blood-splattered suit. Raindrops quickly entered, doing her very best to not make contact with anypony, and unlocked all the cage doors. There were fewer for her to unlock, now, and it didn’t take her long. “Quick walk. Everypony. Come on,” the rainbow-maned pony said irritably.  Nopony dared move. “Now!” she shrieked, stomping her hooves, her voice ringing off the walls. The ponies quickly left the cages, hoping to avoid her wrath. “Believe me, I did not ask for this job,” she said testily as she raised a hoof disgustedly, as if afraid to touch them. “But somehow, half my crew has food poisoning-” Octave’s eyes flicked over to Raindrops, wondering if she had had a hoof in that.  “-so it’s either this, or a flankload of paperwork later explaining why the rainbow specs are off, and, lucky for you failures, I hate paperwork. So keep your stupid mouths shut, and we’ll just get this over with.” She turned and walked away. Raindrops gestured that they should follow, and the foals filed out behind her. Their walk was quicker and quieter than usual. The rainbow-maned pony led in front, and Raindrops followed behind. Octave glanced around. There were much fewer foals here now.  A filly made her way up to the front. Octave watched with fascination. Why would she approach this mare? The rainbow mare glared at her, clearly wondering the same thing.  The filly took a steadying breath. “I just… wanted to say… you have beautiful eyes.” There was a long pause.  The rainbow-maned pony's face twitched, as if trying to recall something. Suddenly, she let out an animalistic roar that made even the ponies on the top level turn and look. She reached out and seized the unfortunate filly, and with a few beats of her powerful wings, she physically lifted her over her head, carried her over to the Device, and with one hoof, threw her in, without any preparations at all. The machine groaned and strained as its gears tried to process the sudden increase in mass, but with a lot of whining and grinding, it managed to convert its load, sending a double-dose of spectra flowing down the tubes and the white-coated ponies scurrying to flip switches and open conduits to compensate for the dramatic increase in rainbow. The rainbow-maned pony flew back and met every foals' eyes, one at a time. “Never. Mention. My eyes. Again. Understood?” she whispered. Her voice was cold and dark, and sent a shiver up Octave's spine. With one last snarl, she turned and flew away so fast she left behind a rainbow contrail. One of the other ponies left her station to escort them back. She was terrifying, and Octave found himself contemplating which he feared more, the Device, or that mare. The door creaked open again. Octave didn’t bother moving this time. Until he heard a “Psst!” Octave looked up to see Raindrops, crouched next to his cage and holding a white rag. “C'mere!” Octave warily stood up and walked over. “What is that?” he asked. “It's your ticket out of here,” she said, holding out the rag. “It is?” he asked, leaning in to sniff it. “Not yet!” Raindrops hissed, pulling it back. “It's chloroform. In about twenty minutes, lay down on top of this cloth and breathe in deeply. You'll pass out, I'll come back, say that you need medical attention, you'll be out of the cage, and I'll get you out of the factory in no time.” Octave felt a spark of hope well up in his chest, faint, but present. “Will that work?” “Sure will. It’s a trip to the medic. I’ll just say they pronounced you dead and dumped you in the incinerator. They don’t keep records because technically, you don’t exist. Nopony will blink an eye.” Octave couldn't help but see a flaw in this plan. “Won't you get in trouble if I don’t show up at the medic’s?” he asked. “I don't want them to hurt you.” Raindrops smirked and shook her head. “Nah. I haven’t survived this long by being sloppy.” She set a hoof comfortingly on his shoulder through the bars. “Don't worry. I'm getting you out of here, and not even Rainbow McGrumpypants can stop me.” She stood up and began to walk away. “Remember, twenty minutes.” Octave sat and began to count. One altostratus, two altostratus, three altostratus…  Octave awoke with a slight headache. His forelegs hurt, and so did his back, and there was a stabbing pain in his hind leg. He must have laid down wrong.  And then his eyes opened.  His forelegs hurt because they were strapped down to a rough metal table. His back hurt for the same reason.  And his hind leg hurt because there was a large needle in it, connected to a syringe filled with spectra—his spectra. And holding that syringe was… “Raindrops?” “Hey, Octave,” Raindrops said distractedly, pulling it out and looking at it. She tapped it to get the air out and grinned. “Oh, yeah,” she murmured knowingly. “QC’s gonna love this one.” With practiced motions, she removed the needle, capped it off, and dropped it into a tray.  “Wh- what’s happening?” Octave asked.  Raindrops’ eyes flicked between him and the Device’s waiting mouth. “Is this a trick question?” she asked.  Octave’s mouth fell open as realization hit him like a lightning bolt. Hot tears burned in his eyes.  He’d been betrayed. “Y- you said you’d save me,” he whimpered. “You said you’d get me out.” “I did say that, didn't I?” Raindrops conceded. She leaned in and smiled, an awful smile that sent shivers up Octave's spine again. Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “I lied.” She straightened and spoke brightly. “Enjoy your ride!” She hit the start button and took a step back and stood as if to watch, but flinched as her name was screamed again. “Raindrops!” the rainbow-maned pony yelled, apparently very close to having an aneurysm. “If you don't get another failure at your station in thirty seconds, I will personally put you in the Device myself!” Raindrops crinkled her nose, and had but one word to say as she turned and left. “Spoilsport.” Octave couldn't process what had just happened. He saw Raindrops, his savioress, leaving, abandoning him. Ahead, he saw chains tightening. Below, he saw metallic teeth grinding against each other. He closed his eyes, but there he saw Raindrops, grinning at him with those wide eyes and awful smile. He had to open them again. Now he was suspended above the middle of the vat. He heard a scream (was it his own? It wasn't stopping...) as an intense pain flashed through his chest, and he saw blood oozing from numerous cuts along his chest, formed by the broken shards of his own ribcage poking through his skin. He saw the chains slacken. He saw the upper level disappear. He saw the grinding teeth getting closer. He saw > Epilogue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The door creaked open, and Raindrops entered. “Hey guys,” she said, looking around at the cages filled with foals. It was a larger group this time. Her eyes flocked over to the cage nearest the end, the one with only one filly in it. Perfect. “Hey,” she whispered, crouching down to meet the filly’s eye level. “Sundog, right? How are you doing?” The filly looked up and wiped a tear from her eye. “Ok,” she said softly. “I'm really scared, though.” “I know,” Raindrops said as she reached through the bars and pulled her into a hug. “Don't worry. I'm getting you out of here, just like I promised.” She opened the cage door and held out a thick black trash bag. “Here,” she prompted. “Get in. It’ll look like I’m just taking out the trash.” Hope swelled up in her barrel, but she was still hesitant. “Are you sure it’s safe?” Sundog asked, casting a wary glance at the plastic bag.  “I promise, you’re not going to be in there long,” Raindrops said earnestly. “The clouds here may be compressed, but the ones up top are not. Once you’re outside, you can grab a chunk of cloud, and you should be able to steer yourself down. Just don’t make a sound until we’re out.” Sundog nodded, hope shining in her eyes, and she climbed inside the bag. Once she was safely there, Raindrops gently slung the bag over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah,” she said softly. “I’ll get you out in no time.”