Chapters This continues the series of Battleships are Magic and Connection .
June, 1994
Norfolk, Virginia
The reporter was barely successful in maintaining her stoic professionalism. She was excited to meet a heroic figure like Admiral John Mittal. She spoke into her microphone, introducing him.
Mittal was “the man who discovered the other world,” she explained, looking at the camera. He looked a little stressed at her words, seemingly unused to the spotlight, but maintained his composure.
“We’re meeting with him here at the USS Wisconsin museum in Norfolk. This is the ship where it all happened, right Admiral?”
“That’s right. The ship was already destined to be put on public display after retirement, but with the discovery of another dimension, I think Wisconsin is assured a place in history.” The camera panned over the foredeck, pausing on the battleship’s massive guns.
On the other end of the TV, Kevin Daniels changed the channel. He knew that the 60 Minutes reporter wasn’t going to reveal anything that he didn’t already know.
Daniels lived in Norfolk, only a few blocks from where the ship was docked. He’d worked with the Admiral before. He’d also been one of the very first people to go through the doorway to the other world. A television show about it did not interest him.
It had been almost four years since the Navy ship had slipped through a strange anomaly and ended up making contact with a country populated by magical talking ponies. Due to operational security concerns, the information was not made public until early 1992, when a dedicated link between the worlds was established. In the time since, people had grown relatively accustomed to sentient animals living almost next door.
There wasn't much to do on a Sunday night. Daniels got up and went to check on his seven-year-old daughter. It was getting near her bedtime. Sure enough, he found her in her bedroom. Her hair was still damp from the shower.
“Are you getting ready to go to sleep, sweetie?”
“Yes.” She climbed into bed. He sat on the edge.
“Did you have a good day?”
“It was fun.” After church, she’d gone to play with her cousins over in Virginia Beach.
“That’s good.”
The phone rang. It sounded like his wife picked it up. After a moment, she called his name.
“Is that work, daddy?” His little girl had learned what late phone calls usually meant.
“Maybe.” He smiled. “Go to sleep.”
She returned his smile and closed her eyes. He got up and turned off the light on his way out of the room.
Down the hallway, his wife waited with her hand over the receiver.
“It’s Applejack,” she said.
Daniels took the phone. “Hello?”
“We got a situation,” said an accented female voice. “We caught a man usin’ an unauthorized doorway in the Everfree Forest.”
“Really? How did that happen?”
“I don’t rightly know. He jumped back through and deactivated it before we could find out.” She paused for a moment. “This doorway was round, ‘stead of rectangular. Maybe it’s a different design.”
The original doorway had been, well, a doorway. A rectangle just made more sense. This new doorway was very worrying. Who could be running it?
“Thanks Applejack. I’ll work on it from here.” They said goodbye and hung up. It had been a while since the doorways had first been opened, yet it still seemed slightly strange to think that he’d had a call from a pony .
“Are you leaving?” asked his wife. She’d endured more than a few late phone calls.
“Not right now. I’m sure the RIS contacted my office. If they want me, I’ll find out in the morning.” Applejack worked for the Royal Intelligence Service of Equestria. They coordinated with several human agencies including the US Navy’s intelligence service, where Daniels worked. Her call to him at home had been a courtesy, so he would be prepared.
The possibility of someone else having their own doorway virtually guaranteed that Daniels would get the nod to investigate. He was probably the most knowledgeable in the area, and was on especially good terms with the ponies.
In the morning, Daniels drove to the office. It was west, the opposite direction from where he used to work at the Little Creek Amphibious Base. Before joining Naval Intelligence as a civilian employee, he’d been a SEAL. Now, he had more time at home and was shot at less often.
There was an all-hands briefing early in the morning. The RIS had sent all the information they had. There were more details available now.
A pony had reported suspicious activity in the Everfree Forest. When Equestrian law enforcement had approached, a human male had fled back through a doorway, which subsequently turned off.
The dimensional links, nicknamed doorways, were powered from Earth. The appeared as a frameless portal in the other world, and would vanish when the power was shut down.
The unusual design of the rogue doorway was commented on. It was known that the programming for energy management was easier with a uniform shape. The rectangular design was favored because it was more practical.
“Questions?”
Daniels raised his hand. “Who could be behind this?”
The man with the information shrugged. “Too early to tell. The technology was obviously leaked. We’re running down where it went.”
There were a few other questions from the group. When the brief was over, everyone was given tasks to carry out. Just as Daniels thought, he was told to go to Equestria.
The nearest doorway was at the Navy base. They had begun springing up at government facilities all over the country. Travel was still somewhat restricted, as the doorways were too small to get vehicles through. Equestria didn’t have the road system to support them, either. Most of the human traffic going through were day trippers. There were fewer of them on the weekdays. Daniels didn’t have to wait very long in line.
His government credentials and passport got him through with no trouble. He stepped out in Ponyville, a small town in central Equestria. A building had been built to house the incoming doorways. A pony stamped his passport and he went on his way.
The telephone system had been something new for ponies. It made communication easy, but getting the equipment to transfer signals through the doorways had been a challenge. Daniels stepped around a few phone workers who were doing something to the transmission cables and walked out into the sun.
He’d called ahead and Applejack should be on her way to meet him. The RIS had assigned her to the Ponyville area. Daniels knew she’d grown up on an apple farm somewhere nearby. Since the doorways had opened, business for them had picked up. With the extra money, Applejack could hire someone to work the farm in her place. As the Element of Honesty, she was good at getting the truth, something that made her valuable to the RIS.
The Elements of Harmony were still largely a mystery to the humans. The ponies didn’t like to talk about them, except to say that they were a powerful force for good. That was probably a good idea, otherwise some human would likely try to weaponize them.
Daniels made his way to Sugarcube Corner, a bakery and sweet shop. It was a good place to meet. The building looked like a giant decorated cake on the outside. The inside used bright colors. Memorabilia and recommendations from local celebrities occupied one wall. There was also a signed picture of the President of the United States. Pinkie Pie, a former employee of Sugarcube Corner, now worked in the White House kitchen.
A blue and pink pony greeted him as he walked in. “Good morning, Mr. Daniels.”
“Hello, Mrs. Cake.” She and her husband owned the place.
“What will you be having today, dearie?”
Daniels studied the menu. “Cherry pie.”
“Coffee?”
“Please. Oh, and Applejack should be stopping by soon.”
Mrs. Cake nodded. “I’ll leave the pot.” She went to get his pie. Daniels sat down at a small table near the window. The town outside was busy. Merchants had set up in the town square. There were a few humans among them, shopping.
The door opened and Applejack came in. She was mostly colored orange, with a straight yellow mane and tail. Her eyes were large and green. She pushed her hat back and smiled. “Howdy. It’s been a while.”
Daniels nodded. “Someday I hope we could meet when there wasn’t a crisis.”
Applejack sat down. “The day they stop makin’ calamities is the day we’re both outta work.” There was a lot of wisdom in that pony.
Mrs. Cake came back and asked if she wanted anything. Applejack said that just drinking coffee was fine. It had actually been working with Daniels that had gotten her into the habit.
Daniels took a forkful of pie. It was great, as always. “So what did you manage to learn since you called?”
“Not much. We blocked off the scene, ‘cause ah thought you might want a look.”
“Thanks.” She waited while he finished the pie. Both of them drained their coffee and Daniels paid. He was running low on Equestrian money, and made a mental note to change some at the next opportunity.
The two of them left Sugarcube Corner and headed for the Forest. It was a reasonable walk from town. A Ponyville police officer was on duty at the scene where the mysterious doorway had appeared. Applejack said hello to him.
Daniels studied the ground. There were plenty of footsteps, both horseshoes and human shoes. He asked if they were related.
“I reckon so,” said Applejack. “All of them prints were there we we got here.”
“So we’ve got ponies working with humans to operate an unauthorized doorway. What do you think they’re doing?”
“Most of the crime comes from your world. No offense.”
Daniels shrugged. “It's the truth.”
“We found one of those cig-whatchmacallits over here,” said Applejack, walking a few steps away.
“Cigarette,” said Daniels, looking at the object she indicated. The early morning dew had fallen on it, but he was still able to read the printing on the band.
“Russian?” he said quietly. The Soviet Union hadn’t been dissolved for that long. He wasn’t sure if they had the ability or organization to produce their own doorway.
Daniels looked around for several more minutes, but didn’t find anything more interesting than the cigarette butt. He carefully scooped it into a small plastic bag that he’d brought along in case he found something.
“If there’s ponies involved in this,” he said as they walked back, “we’ve both got something to work on.”
Applejack nodded. “Ah got a few ideas about who to talk to.”
“All right. I’ll check things out on my end. If you find out anything interesting, let me know.”
They said goodbye and parted ways. Daniels stopped back at Sugarcube Corner to pick up a box of muffins to take back. They were popular at the office.
Fillydelphia
Constant Clock sat in the pub. His brown mane and off-white coat did not draw any stares. That was the way he liked it.
The unicorn had worked for the RIS for several years. Ponies who saw his pocket watch cutie mark were often surprised to find out what he actually did. His relatives sold timepieces, and maybe Constant would eventually take over the family business. For now, he worked in surveillance. More specifically, watching two ponies across the room.
His collegue, Applejack, had wanted to be there, but she had a history with the two of them. Not only was it a conflict of interest, but they would recognize her. Constant kept them in his peripheral vision, never looking directly in their direction.
What were they called again? Oh yeah, the Flim Flam Brothers. Constant wondered what they had done to get the name, or was it their real name? It didn't matter. The RIS wasn't interested in them for what they were called.
From what he could hear, it sounded like they were trying to sell the barpony something. Constant sipped his carrot juice slowly. He knew that he might be there all night, waiting for the brothers to do something interesting.
The pub was crowded, but not too noisy. A group of humans on vacation seemed to be the loudest. All of them looked young and carefree. Constant had never been to Earth, and didn't know if he cared to.
After forty-three minutes, the Flim Flam Brothers got up. The length of time didn't matter, exactly, but time was something Constant Clock was always aware of. The brothers tipped their hats to the barpony. He had either consented to buy something, or perhaps given them a free drink so they would leave. As they neared the exit, Constant downed the rest of his juice and left a few bits on the table.
He paused at the door, checking to see which way they had gone. He crossed the street and followed in the same direction. They had perhaps a block and a half lead.
The two of them rounded a corner up ahead. Constant quickened his pace, hobbling slightly to minimze the sound of his hooves. He reached the corner and took a careful glance around it. The two ponies were still walking.
He followed them carefully for a while, ending up at at an apartment building. He couldn't exactly rememeber their address, but it was in the right part of town, so he figured it was theirs. The brothers went in.
Constant walked over to the door, noting their apartment number from the list that was posted. After a moment, he walked inside.
Upstairs, he located their place. He was pleased to see that it was right next to the elevator. Pausing for a moment, he put his ear to the door. There was no significant sound from inside.
Straightening up, Constant heard somepony coming up the stairs. It sounded...two legged? Hmm. None of the names on the list out front indicated that a human lived in the building. He retreated back into the elevator. The doors closed, but he stayed to listen.
Author note: Scully and Brony1Delta for their help. If anyone else would like to help me edit, send a message.
Ponyville
The local branch of the Royal Intelligence Service was housed in a back room of the Town Hall. It was a little cramped, but the employees made the best of it.
There were filing cabinets, and desks, and everything found in a regular office, except only about one quarter of the expected floor space.
Applejack’s desk was squeezed into a corner. Her two coworkers, Lemon Slice and Paper Pusher, were equally as crowded. At least everything was neat. Paper was nearly obsessive about keeping things orderly. It was a good thing there wasn’t much in Applejack’s desk, or he probably would pick through it and organize things for her.
The three of them were the RIS’s entire representation in the area. That was understandable. Ponyville didn’t have much worth investigating. The Service had also begun to shift to a more international role, further cutting resources.
Applejack did not like working in an office. In fact, she’d rather be back on the farm working hard and bucking apples. She still lived at home with Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, and Apple Bloom, and helped out when she got the chance.
Still, she was doing a service to her country, and for that she could endure a little desk time. She just wished it wasn’t so boring.
After meeting with Kevin Daniels that morning, she’d checked on the pictures that had been taken during the initial investigation. The film was still processing.
Ponyville had changed a lot in the past few years. Pinkie Pie had moved away, and Rainbow Dash was also spending a lot of time on Earth lately. Rarity had managed to open a second boutique in Manehattan, and was there more often than not. Twilight Sparkle was heavily involved in the government and was constantly traveling to Canterlot. Fluttershy was still around, but her path didn’t cross Applejack’s very often.
They were still her friends, and she would do anything for them at a moment’s notice. Everypony just living their own lives. They couldn’t all pursue their dreams while still staying in Ponyville.
She decided that she would just have to make the best of things. There was a job to be done. She picked up the case file regarding the appearance of the mysterious doorway and flipped it open. There had to be something she was missing.
Fillydelphia
Heavy footsteps walked up to the apartment. There was a knock. The door opened. “What are you doing here?” asked one of the Flim Flam Brothers.
Constant Clock listened carefully from his position. The doors of the elevator muffled some of the sound.
“We need to talk,” said a human voice.
“Come in.” The front door of the apartment closed.
Now the sound was really hard to pick up. If the walls weren’t so thin, Constant wouldn’t have been able to hear anything. As it was, he only picked up faint snatches of the conversation.
…happened?
Not sure. Something…
…seen? It’s important…
…not. …worry…
…don’t believe you…
Calm down. …work something out.
…going to…
Can’t…some time.
Sorry.
There were suddenly two loud bangs that made Constant jump. The apartment door slammed open and he heard the sound of feet taking off down the stairs. He waited for several seconds. When nothing else seemed to happen, he pressed the button to open the elevator doors.
A few ponies looked out into the hallway, trying to figure out what the noise had been. Constant entered the apartment. There was a smoky smell in the air. The two brothers lay on the floor in awkward positions. There was blood everywhere.
Constant had never seen a gunshot wound up close before, but there was little else that could cause damage like that. Oh Celestia, was that brain matter leaking out? He turned around, breathing hard. He felt sorry for the pony that would have to clean up that mess.
He thought about giving chase to the fleeing killer, but decided against it. The man had shown that he didn’t mind violence. Constant didn’t know how to identify him, anyway.
Making up his mind, he strode out into the hallway. “Somebody get the police. There’s been a double murder.” There was a collective gasp from the ponies present. Constant went back into the apartment. Perhaps there was something he could learn.
Norfolk
“How is it that you stay so skinny?” asked Jackson DePaul.
Daniels grinned at his coworker and bit into another muffin. “Exercise.”
“You must exercise enough for three people.”
Daniels shrugged. He probably did. Leaning forward, he indicated something on the page in front of DePaul.
“Timothy Oswald. I remember him.” They were reviewing a list of people who had critical knowledge of the doorway project.
“How did you know him?”
“He was the research head for a while. Had a doctorate in something I don’t remember. Seemed like a really bright guy. Didn’t he disappear shortly after the doorway was finished?”
DePaul consulted his notes. “Looks like it.”
“I’d put him at the top of the list, Jack.”
Picking up a red pen, DePaul circled Oswald’s name. “It does look suspicious,” he agreed. “What do you think happened to him?”
“There are two options. He either went willingly or was kidnapped.”
“Neither of those is very attractive.”
“I’m no psychic, but I’ll bet it was the former. Oswald seemed to have big ideas, but the military was trying to keep the doorway technology contained. Maybe he wanted to go to an outside source to help get his plans accomplished.”
DePaul frowned. “You mean he sold out?”
“I’m not saying that he did it for money. He could have been doing it for the good of humanity. I’m just saying that I think it’s more likely than somebody grabbing him.”
“Security was pretty tight on the project,” said DePaul. “To find out that he was involved, the so-called kidnappers would have had to have someone else inside to tell them that. If they had someone inside, then they probably would have just taken the plans rather than Oswald.”
“So you agree with me?”
“Let’s just say I’m interested.”
“All right,” said Daniels, leaning back. “If we’re going to explore this, let’s go all the way. If he was going to give the technology to someone, who would it be?”
“The Russians?” said DePaul, recalling the cigarette.
“I would have thought that he’d go to an ally first, but it’s possible.”
“The United Nations, maybe? If he was doing it for idealistic purposes, that’s probably the way to get the doorway distributed to the most people.”
“Fair point. I think we probably would have heard about it by now, though.”
“Some kind of criminal underworld? The black market?”
Daniels considered it. “That sounds reasonable. It’s probably the worst-case scenario, though. There’s a lot more ground to cover than if we were just considering countries.” He stood up. "I’m going to go check if the forensics crew knows anything.”
DePaul sighed. “Sure, leave me with the work.”
“What can I say? You’re good at it.”
“Oh, get out of here. I’m keeping the muffins.”
Fillydelphia
It took the police seven and a half minutes to arrive. Constant was still picking through the apartment. He showed them his RIS badge.
The Sergeant who showed up to take charge of the scene interrogated him. Constant had no reason to conceal anything.
“So you followed them here. Why were they under surveillance to begin with?”
“There’s been reports of unauthorized doorways. We think they might have had something to do with it.”
“And then a human walked in and killed them?”
“That’s right.”
The policepony glanced briefly at the gore. “Well, it looks like that checks out. That’s definitely the work of a human weapon.”
“After discovering the bodies, I searched the apartment. There’s nothing obvious. I’m sure with a little more time, you can check for hiding places or read their mail or something.”
The Sergeant nodded. “I’ve heard of these ponies before. I’m sure they were up to something.”
Two policeponies were going through the brothers’ personal items. Constant noticed a ring with three keys on it. One had the apartment number stamped on it. One was small, as if it belonged to a mailbox. The other one was different. He pointed that out.
“Do you think they had somewhere else where they did business?”
The suggestion seemed to interest the police. Constant left them with that thought. He walked downtown to the RIS office to make his report.
Fillydelphia was a large city, and while the office was proportionally busy, it was nowhere near the size of the national headquarters in Canterlot. Constant had grown up there, and taken a job away from home just for something different.
“Hey Connie!” called a voice. He didn’t appreciate the nickname, particularly since he’d learned that it was a name for human females.
“What? Uh, ma’am.”
“I wanted to ask you about the Flim Flam Brothers,” said his boss, a severe-looking mare named Sugar Song.
“They’re dead. Some human shot them.”
She nodded. “Word gets around fast. Did you learn anything?”
“No, not really. We knew that they were criminals of opportunity, and dabbled in everything. I found out that they probably didn’t do much business from their apartment. They must have a place somewhere else for that. The Filly PD said they would keep us updated if it was found.”
She nodded. “All right. Oh, what time is it?”
“Six minutes, forty-two seconds past the hour,” he said automatically.
She nodded and walked away without thanking him. Constant grumbled to himself. He felt under-appreciated.
He went to find a telephone. His friend Applejack would want to know what had happened. He would make sure she got the formal report as soon as it was ready.
The phone was newly installed. While useful, it had not been designed with ponies in mind. Constant thanked Celestia that he’d been born a unicorn. Trying to hold the receiver with his hooves would have been difficult. He used a pencil to poke the numbers.
Up until a few weeks ago, there had only been one phone in the Ponyville Town Hall. It was shared among the offices housed there. Constant was somewhat skeptical of human technology, but in this case welcomed it. He didn’t need to listen to the Mayor practicing her speeches on him as they waited for someone from the RIS office to come get the phone.
“Royal Intelligence Service, Ponyville branch,” said a clipped, professional voice.
“Hello Paper, it’s Constant. Is Applejack there?”
“One moment.”
There was a clatter and a muffled tarnation as she fumbled with the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, AJ.”
“Hey there. Didja find the Flim Flam Brothers?”
“Yes, but it didn’t go quite like I hoped. They were murdered.”
“Darn it! They might’ve been the only ponies who could tell us what was going on.”
“Maybe. In fact, I think it’s likely. They could have been killed to keep them from talking.”
“Well, I guess you’re in a better position to find out. Nothing much happens here in Ponyville.”
He laughed. “If you want excitement, you should come to the big city, AJ.”
“Tried it. It ain’t for me.”
A pony stepped up behind Constant and waited for him to get off the phone. “I have to go. Is there anything else?”
“Human investigators are also workin’ on this. One of ‘em said he might have a suspect. I’ll give him your name.”
Constant didn’t appreciate that, but said nothing about it. “All right. Good luck to you.”
“You too, Connie.”
He put the phone down and went to write his report. He carefully listed all the details that he could remember, including precise times. It would have to cross Sugar Song’s desk and get her approval before he could distribute it to interested parties. He’d be sending a copy to Ponyville.
None of the ponies in the office seemed to know how to use the new facsimile-telecopy machine. Constant doubted they had one in Ponyville to receive the document anyway. It was a mystery to him how a fax traveled through the phone lines. Magic, maybe.
It would have to be Airmail, then. Constant waited. Sixteen minutes later, Mrs. Song returned the report, miraculously without demanding more detail. He had just barely enough time to make a copy and get it put into an envelope before the pegasus mailpony arrived.
She was cross-eyed and rather clumsy, but good at her job nevertheless. The report should be on Applejack’s desk by the next day.
Norfolk
Daniels was back to waiting in line. The last communication he’d gotten from Applejack seemed to indicate that she wanted him to take his information to someone else. They didn’t have much ability to act on it in Ponyville. He carried a briefcase with a couple of files of paper in it.
For the moment, he was waiting on a school group to go through the doorway. A field trip to another dimension was something he hadn’t heard of before. All the kids had uniforms. Must be some kind of private school.
He had never been to Fillydelphia before. Really, for all the traveling that he did, he hadn’t seen very much of Equestria. When his turn came, he walked through the doorway.
The Fillydelphia terminal was a little larger and better decorated than its counterpart in Ponyville. Daniels stopped at the money changing desk before leaving.
The city was, well, a city. Compared to Ponyville, it seemed like a giant place. Daniels had a map that he’d picked up from the terminal. The RIS office was a couple blocks away. It was still early, though, and he decided to stop for lunch.
The restaurant didn’t serve any kind of animal products. Ponies were still a little touchy about that kind of thing, despite the fact that other countries in their world, the griffins, for example, ate meat. Daniels had a cucumber sandwich and a piece of chocolate cake for dessert.
He spent a little longer on the meal than he thought, and hurried towards the RIS building. He thought he made it on time.
“You’re twenty-one seconds late,” said a pony, who waited for him outside the front door.
“Sorry, cheap watch. I’m Kevin Daniels.”
“Constant Clock. Applejack told me you had some information.”
Right to business, then. “Right here.” He held up the briefcase.
“Come in,” said the pony. His tone of voice suggested that he took those twenty-one seconds rather personally.
The office looked remarkably like a human business. Other than the employees, everything seemed to be the same. The pony led him into what looked like an interview room and closed the door.
Daniels took a seat and opened the briefcase. He careful with it. The pony didn’t need to see the gun strapped to the inside of the lid.
Equestria as a whole didn’t seem to be friendly to weapons. While they had no specific laws against them, it was generally frowned upon to bring one through the doorway. Daniels kept his well hidden.
“This is Dr. Timothy Oswald,” he said, opening a folder. There was a picture, a brief biography, and a summary of his work. “He was the leader of the doorway project. He’s been missing for a while. We believe that he gave someone the doorway technology.”
Constant Clock considered it. “Do you have any leads?”
“When he disappeared, we weren’t able to track his movements. There was no indication that he ever passed through an airport. That tells us that he was most likely only traveling a short distance. Combined with a few other things that were discovered, it looks like he probably went to Chicago.”
The name meant nothing to Constant, although it sounded like a city.
“How about you?” Daniels asked.
Constant put a few photographs on the table. Two mugshots of nearly identical-looking unicorns. One of them had a mustache.
“These are the Flim Flam Brothers. They were suspected of being involved with the unauthorized doorway. Right up until they were murdered.” He dramatically dropped a picture of the crime scene onto the table. To his annoyance, Daniels showed very little reaction to the blood.
“Looks like gunshots.”
“They are.”
“How did you connect them to the doorway?”
“Receiving and transporting clandestine goods was something they were known for. We later discovered that their horseshoes matched prints found at the place where the doorway appeared.”
“Do you know why they were murdered?”
“They probably knew too much.”
“Suspects?
“None.”
“Do you know anything about Russia?” asked Daniels.
Constant stared at him for a moment. “Is that a country?”
“Yes. We found a Russian cigarette at the doorway site.”
The pony shrugged. “It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
They went around in circles for a while asking questions. Daniels learned a few things, but not much. He still felt that the pony didn’t really like him.
Daniels left copies of the Oswald file in Fillydelphia. Hopefully it would help.
Ponyville
The report from Constant about the double murder contained more detail than he’d told Applejack on the telephone. It was not something to read to young fillies and colts.
She sighed. The Flim Flam Brothers had been lower than dirt, but nopony deserved what had happened to them. She’d met a lot of nice humans, but there were obviously a few bad apples out there.
Lemon Slice was a yellow pegasus who worked with Applejack. She had a golf club for a cutie mark, rather than something related to fruit. Her brother Berry was a reasonably famous player of the game.
Lemon was not bad at anything, and could serve as assistant to either Applejack or Paper. At the moment, he was speaking to her on the bureaucratic principles of filing expense reports.
The door opened and a policepony came in. He was a Ponyville local named Sergeant Sprinkles. “Thought you’d want to know,” he said. “We spotted a human going towards the Forest.”
“The doorway site?” asked Applejack.
He nodded.
“Come on, Lemon,” she said. The other pony looked grateful to be pulled away from Paper’s lecture.
They followed the officer out. “We pulled the guard from the place when you finished up looking around,” he said. “Right now, the man is probably on his way back.”
“Ah don’t know why anypony would want to visit that place,” said Applejack, “but it looks mighty suspicious.”
“Are we going to arrest him?” asked Lemon.
“We can’t do that unless we know he’s done something wrong,” said Sprinkles. “If he acts suspiciously, we can hold him for questioning.”
“I knew that,” mumbled Lemon. “My brain just got fried listening to Paper talk about legal policies and procedures.”
Applejack chuckled. “Ah know whatcha mean, sugarcube.”
In the road, they encountered three fillies who were acting out some kind of elaborate choreography, completely silent. One of them was Applejack’s younger sister, Apple Bloom.
“Hey sis,” she said, spotting Applejack. The two other fillies facehoofed.
“You can’t talk in charades!” complained one.
“Hey Apple Bloom. What are y’all up to?”
“Me an’ Sweetie Belle an’ Scootaloo were trying to get our cutie marks for acting. We were tryin’ all different types.” The three of them were young, and had not yet received their cutie marks. They had decided to try anything and everything they could to speed up the process. They called themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
“That’s nice,” said Applejack.
“Where are you goin’, sis?”
“We’re gonna meet a human that mighta done something bad.”
“Can we come?” asked Scootaloo. “Cutie Mark Crusader Criminal Catchers!”
“We ain’t got no proof just yet,” said Applejack. “We’re just going to talk.”
“Is it a secret meeting?” asked Sweetie Belle. “I want to be a secret agent!” She posed dramatically.
“No, we’re just goin’ to have a friendly conversation,” said Applejack, getting a little flustered.
“Can we watch?” asked Apple Bloom. Her sister sighed. She looked at the two ponies with her.
“I don’t have a problem with it,” said Sprinkles.
“All right, but stay outa the way.” The Cutie Mark Crusaders cheered. They fell in step behind the policepony and the two RIS agents.
They met up with another officer at the doorway building. Sprinkles said that he’d had the pony posted there once the suspicious man had been spotted. Applejack appreciated his quick thinking.
“I’ll give you a signal when he comes in,” said Sprinkles. He took up a place near the door. Applejack and Lemon faded into the crowd.
They waited for a short while. Many humans and ponies passed through the building. Applejack was just beginning to wonder if the man had somehow gotten lost when she saw Sprinkles give her a short gesture. He indicated a man who had just walked in. He was large, with dark hair and a serious expression. She looked for Lemon.
She was across the room. She gave a short nod to indicate that she’d seen the policepony’s signal. The two of them began to move. Applejack saw the two officers closing in. The four of them were set up in a loose circle around the man, and slowly drawing closer.
He stepped into a short line in front of an open doorway. His folded passport rested in his hand. Applejack walked up to him. “Pardon me, mister.”
He glanced at her, handing his passport to the customs pony. “What?”
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
The man retrieved his passport. He looked over his shoulder, spying the two policeponies.
“I don’t have time.” Applejack thought she noticed a slight accent in his speech.
“You better make time!” shouted a young voice. The three fillies stepped up to the customs table.
For half a second, time seemed to freeze. Then all heck broke loose. The man lunged at the doorway, scattering the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Apple Bloom tried to grab him, but he knocked her off and kept going. She hit the floor in a heap. He kept going, ducking around the line and vanished through the doorway.
Applejack rushed to her sister. “Apple Bloom! Are you all right? Say somethin’!”
The filly moaned and slowly managed to stand. “Ah’m okay, I guess.”
Applejack glanced up. “Where’d that varmint go?”
“He got away,” said Sprinkles gruffly.
All eyes looked at the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Even the usually pleasant Lemon Slice was not smiling.
“We’re sorry!” cried Sweetie Belle.
“We just wanted to help,” said Scootaloo.
Applejack gritted her teeth. She didn’t like handing out punishments, but sometimes it was necessary. “Git home,” she growled at Apple Bloom. “I’ll deal with you later.”
The three fillies ran off. Applejack shook her head and turned to face the customs pony. “What can you tell us about that man?”
“Um,” the pony stammered. “He was going to Chicago. That’s right through the doorway, there.”
“What was his name?”
“I can’t really spell it. It wasn’t like a name from the United States.”
“What country was it?”
“Ukraine.”
Applejack had never heard of the place, but sensed that this was something Daniels should know about. The police took a statement from the pony to get everything in writing. She and Lemon Slice took a copy of it back to the office. Paper seemed to be pleased to have something new to file.
By the time she left work that evening, Applejack had gotten the word out about the man who’d run from them. He was definitely guilty of something.
She walked back towards Sweet Apple Acres. In the distance, she heard the sound of apples being bucked. As she approached, she saw her brother, Big Macintosh. He had long practice in harvesting the ripe apples. She watched him clear a tree with a single kick.
He spotted her as she walked up the road.
“Howdy, sis.”
“Hello. Did Apple Bloom come home?”
“Eeyup. She told me what happened. I told her to go to her room and think about it.”
“Thanks. I don’t like punishing her m’self.” Applejack set up some baskets and bucked a nearby tree. It felt like a long time since she’d worked the farm.
“Mac, do you think I’m workin’ too much?”
Her brother shrugged, not willing to commit to a reply either way.
“Ah know somepony’s got to do it, but I don’t feel like I’m quite suited.” She paused to buck a tree. “Ah don’t know what ah’m doin’ in that little office, or chasin’ criminals all over Equestria.”
“So quit.”
“Well…ah don’t know if ah can. It feels like ah’m doing things that are too important.” She bucked another tree. The apples showered down. “At the same time, ah feel like I’m abandonin’ y’all here at the farm.”
Mac laughed. “Don’t worry about us. We can afford not having you around. Sometimes you got to go do your own thing.”
“All right,” she said. “Thanks big brother.” Applejack headed for the house. She still planned to give her sister a talking to, but in her good mood she decided not to make it too severe.
Author note:
Chicago
The Ukrainian was not pleased. He’d been told to go find the place where the doorway had opened into the pony world. He’d done that, no problems. It looked like the ponies had been there, but none were present when he’d showed up. It didn’t look like they’d found much.
The interception at the doorway terminal in Ponyville had taken him completely by surprise. He had no idea how they had figured him out, and had instinctively reacted by running.
He’d managed to get away. The security people on the other end of the doorway had been suspicious, but he’d ducked them and found himself outside the building and in Chicago scot-free. He vowed to be more careful in the future.
He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He hadn’t managed to get any of his favorites imported from home, but these were good enough. He'd managed to find them at a Russian-owned grocery store in the city. A smoke was just what he needed to calm his nerves. He would need it. He was about to go see the scariest men he knew.
Down in the deep, old part of the city stood a building. It was nondescript, and made of uninspired architecture. It had been kept in good repair, but nothing had been done to attract attention from passerby. The armed guards were well hidden.
The Ukrainian stepped up to the door and knocked. After a moment, a voice demanded a password.
He gave it. The long pause that always followed made him think that perhaps they only gave one password for every visitor, and there was a list to make sure the correct person had given the correct password. Eventually, the door opened.
“I need to see the boss,” he said, stepping in.
The stone-faced man behind the door gestured him to the stairs. He went up, his apprehension growing with every step. The boss would not like what he had to say.
The door at the top of the stairs was open. He walked inside. Two men waited for him. One was Charles Line, the boss. The other was Oscar, his favorite employee. Oscar enjoyed killing people. Line enjoyed ordering it.
“You look nervous,” said the boss. The Ukrainian shrugged to conceal the fact that that was the truth.
“There was a little problem.” He spoke English well, and had managed to loose most of his accent.
“How little?”
“I checked on the place where the doorway opened in the forest. It was found by the ponies, but none were there when I checked. On my way back, I was stopped by the police. I ran before they could question me.”
“How did they know about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really?” said Oscar. “The Flim Flam Brothers told a pretty cute story.”
The Ukrainian looked panicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, truthfully.
Oscar laughed. “Just playing. You should see the look on your face.”
The man relaxed. He had smoked a cigarette while he waited for the brothers to arrive. After that, he had given them the contraband and departed. Nothing more. He was sure that he hadn't done anything wrong. Oscar was known for his mean jokes.
“Get out,” said Line. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” The Ukrainian nodded and went back down the stairs. He felt relieved.
“I’ve got the van and the knives ready to go,” said Oscar.
Line nodded. “Take care of him. Any idiot that gets caught by ponies is useless to me.”
Fillydelphia
The file of information about the human scientist didn’t mean much to Constant. He read through it, but it didn’t appear to connect to anything he had.
He decided to try a different approach. What if he could think ahead of the bad guys? If he could predict what they would do next, that would give him an advantage.
All right, where to start? With the Flim Flam Brothers dead, the humans using the doorway would need new contacts in Equestria to help them. Who would be their second choice?
There were a couple of names that he could think of. If he asked around, he might find something. He also might tip them off, so he would have to be careful.
He called Ponyville and talked to Applejack for a while. With their combined brainstorming, Constant discovered a few new leads to check out. Applejack offered to come help out. She said she wouldn’t mind getting out of Ponyville for a while. Constant thought it was a great idea.
He asked her to come to the RIS office in Fillydelphia. She had something to finish, but should arrive in a few hours. Constant set a time for them to meet.
When he got off the phone, he sat for a moment. There were leads he could be running down. Applejack appreciated hard work, and would understand if he started without her.
Some particularly unsavory characters hung out on the west side of the city. Constant put on a pair of saddlebags to cover his cutie mark and pulled a hat low over his ears. The police had managed to find where the Flim Flam Brothers’ key belonged, and he headed there.
It looked like some kind of long-closed store. The police line was still up, telling him that there was no point in him going inside. The police were generally pretty good, and it would probably be a waste of effort trying to find something they missed. He’d read the report later.
There were other places to visit. He had a whole list of suspects.
Norfolk
Another day, another doorway. Daniels was beginning to think that a good portion of his life would be spent standing in lines. If it was a personal trip he was on, he would have considered abandoning it.
The ponies had reported a suspicious Ukrainian man. Going through the passport records for entrances, Jackson DePaul at the office had found a suspect. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, the man had come in from Chicago.
Armed with this information, Daniels was going back to Ponyville to deliver it by hand. They didn’t have a fax machine there, and international mail was slow.
Once in Equestria, Daniels headed for the RIS office. Applejack looked up as he came through the door.
"I've got this profile on the man you met yesterday," said Daniels.
"Have to look at it later. Ah was just about to leave for Fillydelphia."
"Why's that?"
“We’re going to check out some leads. Constant’ll probably want to see the information about this Ukrainian feller, too. Say, you want to come along?”
“I got the impression that Constant didn’t care for me.”
“Just get to know him, and he’ll warm up.”
Daniels shrugged. “All right, I’ll go."
Bending a doorway around to connect to a different place in the same dimension was theoretically possible, but it was simple enough to just make a transfer through a different place. Daniels and Applejack went though the Ponyville terminal to Earth, and then directly into another doorway to Fillydelphia.
Constant was not waiting for them in front of the RIS building. “What time is it?” asked Applejack. Daniels checked his watch and told her.
“He’s usually waits out here a little early. Maybe he’s inside.” They walked in. After a short search, they hadn’t managed to find him. Nopony in the building has seen him for a few hours.
“I don’t understand,” said Applejack. “Constant Clock is never late.”
“Where could he have gone?” They searched his desk for clues. There was not much to be found. A list of suspects and their locations was the only thing that seemed to indicate what he might be working on.
On the other side of the city, Constant crouched in an alley and peered through a small gap between boards that covered a window. He was completely aware that he’d blown his appointment, but knew that what he was watching was more important.
There was a doorway in the room. The building had once been used as some kind of factory. Old equipment was scattered around and partially blocked his view, but there was no doubt what he was looking at.
He’d seen a couple of ponies and one human moving around, carrying things. Most were packaged in plain boxes. It looked like a smuggling operation.
Constant didn’t know what they could be trading. Most things that ponies actually wanted to buy were legal and could be bought and sold legitimately. So what was it, then? Were they using Equestria as a temporary holding ground for smuggling between two places on Earth?
Against his better judgment, Constant decided to get closer. He used his magic to quietly stack a pile of crates up so he could reach a second-floor window. Unlike the ground floor, these hadn’t been boarded up.
He was taking a big risk. At any moment, he could be spotted. Carefully applying magic to the window lock, it clicked open.
The room was tall. What had originally appeared to be second-floor windows actually opened to higher spot on the wall of the first floor. Luckily, there was some kind of machine backed up to the wall nearby. Constant was not a technical pony, and did not recognize what it was for. He carefully climbed onto it, closing the window behind him. He slipped down and came to rest out of sight behind the machine.
He waited for several minutes. There was nothing to be heard but footsteps, hoofsteps, and quiet conversation. He slowly moved into a position where he could see.
The doorway was circular, rather than rectangular. There was an awkward gap at the floor that the ponies and the human had to step over. Constant thought he saw another human on the other side.
For several minutes, he watched. He was in the shadows and somepony would have to look directly at him to see that he was there.
A couple last boxes were transferred. The second human stepped through, holding some kind of case.
“Shall we discuss payment?” he asked. His voice triggered something in Constant’s mind. Was it the same man who had visited the Flim Flam Brothers?
The ponies who had helped seemed eager for money. The group walked through a door at the other end of the room and left the doorway unattended.
Constant quietly sneaked over to it and looked through. The other side appeared to be another industrial building remarkably similar to the one he stood in. That didn’t tell him much.
Several shots were suddenly fired, and Constant ducked automatically. He realized that they had come from behind the closed door where everypony had disappeared to. After a moment, the door opened and a man came out, open case in one hand, and a gun in the other.
He stared at the pony beside the doorway and then raised the gun. Constant reacted instinctively and jumped through the doorway. It was far from an ideal solution, but now the man could only shoot at him through the narrow circular portal.
Constant heard approaching footsteps. He was safe for the moment, but he had no idea how to escape. He ducked behind the equipment that powered the doorway. His eyes fell on a button marked “emergency stop.”
He glanced up and saw that the man had nearly reached the doorway. With few other options, he pushed the button. The doorway immediately shut off.
Constant let out a long breath. That was one problem solved, but it had created dozens of others. He didn't know how to get the doorway working again, or how to redirect it to someplace where there wasn’t a man with a gun waiting for him.
Constant looked around. He had no idea where he was.
Author note: Scully , as well as ty500600 for their prereading help.
Chicago
It was perhaps the first time that Charles Line had ever heard Oscar sound apologetic. It was the first time he had ever failed.
Line sighed. “Run that by me one more time to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“We got the doorway set up and transferred the stuff across. After that, I took care of the witnesses. On my way back to the doorway, I saw this pony. He jumped through and shut the doorway off. I had to get back through a government doorway.”
“When you didn’t report back on time, I sent some of the boys over to the doorway location. They saw the pony there, but he got away.”
“What do we do now?”
“What do you think ? You’re going to track down this pony and kill him!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll put out the word to our contacts in the police. If they see him, they’ll let us know.”
“All right, take care of it. Just don’t screw up again.”
The doorways in Chicago had been set up in the unused areas of Union Station. It was a major passenger rail center, and between the trains, doorways, and connections to a couple of airports, it was a huge travel hub.
There were crowds everywhere. Daniels and the three ponies had a little difficulty staying together. They made their way to the exit.
“I’ve never seen buildings so tall,” said Lemon. “It’s like a canyon.”
Daniels pointed to a tall black spire. “Over there is the Sears Tower. It’s the tallest building in the world. It’s got an observation deck more than a quarter of mile in the sky.”
The ponies gasped. “We could see everything from up there!” said Applejack.
Daniels laughed. “And all of it would look tiny . I think our best bet is asking to the police to be on the lookout for Constant. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
As if on cue, a nondescript sedan with government plates pulled up. A burly man with close-shaven hair sat behind the wheel.
“Great timing, jarhead,” said Daniels.
“Shut it, squid,” the man replied through the open window. He smiled.
Daniels opened the back door and the three ponies got in. He sat in the front passenger seat.
“Paper, Lemon, I’d like to introduce you to Christopher Boyle, Chicago branch of Navy Intelligence.”
“Good to see you again,” said Applejack, who knew him already.
“You too.” Both of them had been present for the first contact between ponies and humans. It had taken place on an Equestrian beach several years before. Chris Boyle had been with a landing party of Marines that encountered Applejack and her five friends.
“When we got your call, I volunteered to come pick you up,” he said to Daniels as the car left the curb. “We’ve already notified the police, and every department should have the information soon.”
“We’ve got some bad people in on this,” said Daniels. “The murdering type. Are you prepared if a sticky situation comes up?”
“Of course not. They barely let the cops pack heat in this city.” Daniels looked at him, and he grinned to show he wasn’t serious.
That was good. Two guns, however illegal, were better than one. Daniels knew that Applejack could handle herself in a fight. He had his doubts about the other two.
“Where are we going?” asked Daniels.
“Sorry to say, but we’re going to have to sit tight for a while.”
“What?” exclaimed Applejack. “We have to look for him!”
“Calm down. There are three million people out there. Finding Mr. Clock among all of them is going to be next to impossible. Right now, we just have to let the police do their job.”
Daniels didn’t like it any more than Applejack, but he knew Boyle was right.
Constant ambled down the street. He was in a more populated area now, and felt safer. Why, he hadn’t even been shot at in several hours.
The skyline that eluded him had actually drawn noticeably closer. His hooves hurt a little from so much walking on unforgiving pavement, and his stomach was beginning to growl, but things were looking up.
A car pulled up next to him. It was white with a blue stripe. Large red letters spelled out Chicago Police .
“Excuse me,” called an officer from the window. “Are you Constant Clock?”
“Yes I am.”
“Everyone’s been looking for you. You’re lost, right?”
“That’s right. I work for the Royal Intelligence Service. I ended up here accidentally while working a case.”
The two police officers in the car apparently hadn’t been told what he did. They asked him a few more questions as they guided him into the back seat of the car.
“Somebody’s running illegal doorways?” said one.
“You better believe it.”
“All right,” said the man in the passenger seat. “We’re going to take you back to the station. Detective Smally will take over from there. Do you happen to have some ID to prove who you are?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to come through a doorway.”
“With no passport or other paperwork, you might get deported.”
“Please deport me. I’ve already had enough of Earth.”
The ride to the station was quick, and the two officers left him with a man in plainclothes. This was apparently the Detective.
“You’re lucky,” said the man. “We’ve already got someone here to pick you up.”
“Who?”
“I don’t remember the name. Pony-something. Anyway, just walk out that door.” He pointed.
“Don’t I have to fill out some paperwork or anything?”
“No, it’s not a problem.”
“If you say so.” Constant pushed open the door. It didn't open to the busy street in front of the station. He was a little confused as to why they would send him out the side door.
“Hi there,” said the killer from Fillydelphia.
Author note: The Truth will be going on a few days' hiatus. These chapters are progressively going downhill on word count. I'm going to have to take a break and build up some ideas. If anybody has a suggestion on how to end this story, speak up. You'll get due credit.A Dream
“Get in,” said the man. He indicated the open door of the vehicle he stood beside.
“No,” said Constant. He wished he could have thought of something more impressive to say.
“I don’t really care. I can kill you here, if you want.” His weapon wasn’t visible, but the pony didn’t doubt that it was close at hand.
Constant glanced around to see if any police happened to be nearby.
“I’m not worried about the cops,” said the man. “I’m sure you believe that I’ll do what I say. Get in.”
Constant thought it was the hardest decision he’d ever have to make. Attempt to escape now and run a big risk of getting shot, or go willingly and hope for a chance to get away later?
Better to die right there than in some unmarked grave, he decided. He twitched, and his magic propelled a small chunk of brick from the ground towards the man’s face. He threw up his hands to protect himself, and Constant bolted.
Miraculously, he made it to the street without getting shot. He paused for a fraction of a second, thinking of going back inside the police station. No, the cops weren’t trustworthy. After all, they’d handed him to this killer. He ran in the opposite direction.
“Did you hear that?” Daniels asked, turning up the radio scanner. The two men and three ponies were still in the car, heading for the Navy Intelligence office.
“Car one three three seven, repeat that please.”
“Dispatch, we picked up a pony claiming to be Constant Clock.”
“Where was he located?”
The police officer running the radio in the car read off the approximate address. “Do you know where that is?” asked Daniels. Boyle nodded.
“Roger that,” said the police dispatcher. “Bring him in.”
Boyle made a U-turn. “I know where the closest station to that address is. Let’s go pay them a visit.”
Pulling up in front of the building, they spotted two officers coming out and getting into car 1337.
“You go ahead, I’m going to talk to these guys,” said Boyle. He got out of the car and walked over to the officers.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked one of them. He’d opened the car door, and stood with a hand on it.
“You’re the officers who just picked up the pony?”
“Uh, yes sir.” The cop was fairly young, and had no idea who the large man was.
“Chris Boyle, Navy Intel.” He showed his ID. “Was there any problem with him? Was he hurt?”
The officer visibly relaxed. The Navy man only wanted to ask questions. “No, nothing wrong. We dropped him off and Detective Smally said he would take care of him. You guys must have been close to get here so quickly.”
“Something like that. Did Mr. Clock tell you what happened?”
“He mentioned non-government doorways.”
Boyle nodded. “You might want to keep that to yourself.”
“Don’t worry.”
Boyle thanked him and turned to go into the police station.
Inside, Daniels was having trouble figuring out where Constant had gone. The lady at the front desk said that she remembered the pony coming in, but had not yet received a record of what had been done with him.
Boyle walked in. He gestured over his shoulder. “They said he’s with Detective Smally.”
The receptionist nodded. “All right, I’ll page him.” Within a few minutes, the Detective appeared.
The men and the ponies introduced themselves. Something about the man’s expression changed when he heard who they were. Daniels barely caught it, but it set him on edge.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said. “Mr. Clock said some of his friends should be showing up soon.”
“What were his exact words?” inquired Applejack. Daniels glanced at her.
“He said ‘They should be here in a couple of minutes’.”
“Where is he now?” asked Lemon.
“I’ve got him in a room in the back. Come on.”
Smally lead them past the receptionist and down a hallway. He opened a door to a small room with a table and a few chairs. There was no one there.
“Where did he go?” asked Smally, sounding surprised.
Applejack nudged him, and he took a surprised step forward into the room. “You lyin’ varmit!”
“What are you talking about?”
The rest of them crowded into the room. Boyle closed the door.
“Constant wasn’t expectin’ anypony. Even if he was, he woulda given you an exact time. Where is he?”
“I don’t know!”
“Maybe not, but you know more that you ain’t tellin’!” Applejack’s voice had gone low and hard.
“Hang on,” said Paper. “Shouldn’t we be following correct procedure for this interrogation?”
Daniels reached into his briefcase and pulled out a tape recorder. “Careful what you say, Detective.”
Smally’s face had gone white. “I want a lawyer.”
Constant’s hooves pounded the pavement. It had been four minutes, twenty-two seconds since he’d begun running and already his lungs were burning.
It was unclear what he should do next. He didn’t know who he could trust, and without his passport he couldn’t go back through a doorway legally. On top of that, he was getting hungry.
He decided to take a breather. There was some vegetation to be found, even in the city. He didn’t feel right eating grass from a piece of land he didn’t own, and he’d have to get a lot more desperate before he would consider stealing. The lack of human money was a big problem.
He walked, still vaguely continuing towards the tall buildings from earlier. He passed a vendor selling some kind of tubular meat product in a bun. The smell made him forget his hunger. No way could he eat after that.
Oh Celestia, Earth was a horrible place. As soon as he got back to Fillydelphia, he was going to put down roots and never leave again.
FYI, there’s some mild torture in this chapter.
Lie detectors were great things, thought Daniels. They didn’t even have to be electronic machines. The orange, hat-wearing pony named Applejack was one of the best.
Detective Smally, the dirty cop, sat quietly across the table. His lawyer was with him. Daniels sat next to Applejack and another Chicago Police Detective.
Daniels felt that he had the best idea of the big picture, and had been allowed to proceed with questioning. He had the best information about what was going on.
“Tell us who you’re working for.”
Smally’s lawyer whispered into his ear. Daniels looked on, impatiently.
“We’d like to know what sort of deal the District Attorney is offering first,” said the lawyer.
“This is serious!” Applejack burst out. “Constant’s in danger! It’ll look worse for you if you knew something to help, but let him die! If you know the truth, you better give it.”
The lawyer’s face remained impassive. Smally looked panicked.
“All it takes is a name,” said Daniels. “An address, anything.”
Smally glanced at his legal counsel and then looked at his hands. He cleared his throat. “Charles Line.”
“Is that it?” Smally said nothing more.
Daniels and Applejack walked out. Lemon Slice, Paper Pusher, and Chris Boyle were waiting.
“Let’s go,” said Daniels.
“Did you find something?” asked Boyle.
“Got a name.” They stopped by the front desk to borrow a phone book to match the name to a place.
“Aren’t the police cooperating?” asked Paper as they exited the building.
“They know what we know. They’ve just got procedures to follow. I suppose we do to, but we operate a little differently.” The five of them got in the car.
Line lived in the higher-rent district on Lake Shore Avenue. Daniels did not know who the man was, but suspected some kind of connection to organized crime. He wasn’t sure what the home of such a man might look like, but what they found was not what he was expecting.
It was really a good-looking, friendly place. The driveway was wide and maintained very well. A knock on the front door was answered by a housekeeper. She spoke with an accent.
She told them that Mr. Line wasn’t home. She didn’t know where he might be, but suggested that they check at the office. Daniels asked where that was.
“You don’t know? I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” The men and the ponies had already revealed their status as law enforcement agents.
“I don’t know what you mean.” There was a note of alarm in her voice. Applejack shifted her stance a little. She was hearing lies.
“Now, it might be a stereotype that ethnic maids are illegal immigrants, but I bet if we dug around in your background, I’m sure we could find something to deport you over.” Daniels looked at her sternly. “If you don’t know, fine, but if you have any hints, you’d better talk.”
The housekeeper nervously spit out an address. Daniels wrote it down and thanked her for her help.
Boyle knew about where the address was. In the spirit of interagency cooperation, Daniels had him stop at a pay phone so they could inform the police.
The building where Line supposedly was looked imposing. Daniels noted several cameras on the outside. They walked up to the door.
“Is Mr. Charles Line available?” he asked the serious-looking man who answered. “Navy Intelligence.”
“Royal Intelligence Service,” said Applejack.
“He’s not here,” said the man.
“May we come in?”
“No.”
That was about what Daniels expected. They got back in the car.
“Let me ask you something,” Lemon said to Applejack as they sat in the backseat. “How did you meet Constant? How far back do you go?”
“Ah met him when ah was just a filly and livin' with my Aunt and Uncle Orange in Manehattan. A couple years later, we ran across each other again during RIS training.”
“Is there something romantic going on?”
“What?” Applejack sputtered.
Lemon lifted a hoof. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t affect your job,” added Paper.
On the other side of the city, Constant had managed to solve one of his problems. He’d encountered a lawn care worker who was transporting a plastic bag of grass clippings to a dumpster.
“Are you going to eat that?” he’d asked casually. The man had shrugged and let him have the bag.
The clippings were clammy and smelled like gasoline. Constant only ate enough to take the edge off. He used his magic to hoist the bag into the dumpster when he was finished.
To get the taste out of his mouth, he’d luckily discovered a public drinking fountain. Overall, things were looking up. With his newfound optimism, he decided to find his way to a doorway hub and explain the situation. Perhaps they could help him, but if the police became involved, he was leaving.
The sun was beginning to set, and Constant knew that he didn’t want to spend the night in a strange city. He decided to swallow his pride and ask for directions.
The woman he talked to directed him to Grand Central Station. When he gave her a blank look, she told him to follow the nearby train tracks. That seemed simple enough.
The station building was large and made of stone. It looked quite a bit older than many of the buildings around it. As night fell, there were fewer people around. As he approached the door, a human voice said, “Let me get that for you.”
Constant turned his head to say thanks, but caught sight of the man’s reflection in the glass door. He whipped around to face his attacker but wasn’t fast enough. He was knocked over and blindfolded. There was a pinch of something in the loose skin of his neck. A needle? he wondered.
Constant felt himself being quickly tied up and tossed into a vehicle. He assumed it was the same van that he’d seen earlier. Blindfolded as he was, he couldn’t even see to use his magic. His brain felt fuzzy, and he slipped into blackness as the drugs took effect.
Oscar got in the front of the van and drove to a secure location. It was the same building where the doorway was located. He knew that it was important to find out what the pony knew and how it could hurt their organization. While he’d never had the opportunity to interrogate a pony before, he figured it wouldn’t be too hard. Just a little different work with the knife, that was all. The unicorn’s magic might be a problem, but as long as they kept him drugged and blindfolded, it would be lessened.
He pulled the van around and stopped beside the building. There were a few guards outside, but only Oscar and Charles Line were allowed inside the building. It was better that the underlings didn’t know exactly what was going on.
He pulled the unconscious pony through the door and set him in a chair that he and Line usually used for this type of thing. It was not meant for a pony, but he wasn’t going to be uncomfortable for very long. It never took Oscar too much time to get someone to break.
“So this is him?” said Line.
“I set up a stakeout at Grand Central and caught him going in.”
“Hard to believe one pony could cause so much trouble.”
“He got lucky,” muttered Oscar.
“A couple of times,” added Line, a note of unpleasantness in his voice. “Get on with it.”
After making sure the pony was tied securely, they waited for him to wake up. In not very long, he began to stir.
Oscar slapped him across the cheek. That got his attention. He shuddered, breathing hard and straining at his bonds. His head moved as if looking around, but the blindfold was still on.
“Tell us what you know.”
The pony gasped. “Constant Clock, Royal Intelligence Service.”
“That’s real nice, but we want to know what you’ve learned about us.”
Constant did not reply. Oscar punched him in the gut. If he’d been able to see the blow coming, he could have prepared, but it came as a shock and emptied his lungs. He wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
Oscar gave him a moment to recover. “It’s only going to get worse from here. If you want, we can start cutting. What did you see? What do you find out?”
Constant took a deep breath. He’d never been more scared in his life. Other than the man in front of him, he didn’t know what he might be up against. He thought he might have heard a second voice earlier while he was waking up. His mind worked rapidly, trying to decide what his options were. He’d already struggled to get free and that hadn’t worked. He suspected that whether he cooperated or not, he was dead.
“Come on,” said the man. Constant felt a sharp point touch his chest. “If you don’t want to bleed, start talking. What do you know?”
He took a deep breath. “Constant Clock, Royal Intelligence Service.”
The sudden pain of the knife felt like fire. As near as Constant could tell, the cut had been made across his chest in a diagonal line. It was not a fatal wound, as it hadn’t made it past his ribs.
“If you talk now, you’ll just get a nice scar out of this. I just wanted to show you that I’m serious. Don’t make me keep going.”
Constant opened his mouth and began to recite his name and agency again, but he was hit hard across the face. The attack rattled his brains and snapped his jaw shut.
“No more of this. You’ve got one more opportunity before I lose my patience.” Constant felt another slice across his abdomen. He barely stopped himself from screaming in pain.
“One last chance,” the voice went on. “If you don’t spill your guts figuratively, you’ll do it literally. After you suffer a painful death, we’ll dump you somewhere in the Everfree Forest and your body will never be found. Talk.”
“I’ll get the doorway set up,” a second man said.
Constant felt the blade touch his stomach.
After leaving Line’s building, Boyle had taken them back to the Navy’s Chicago office and found space to work and a large map of the city. With help from the local police, they’d managed to pick though a maze of files and come up with a list of property that Line either owned or had some affiliation with.
“What do you think of this?” asked Paper, indicating an industrial building near the lake. “Constant was picked up by the police heading away from this area.”
“There’s other places he could have come from,” pointed out Daniels. “We’ve found other buildings in that corner of the city.”
“True enough,” nodded the pony. “However, this place has a large electrical transmission line installed. I understand that doorways require a lot of power.”
Everyone in the room looked at each other. “Do we have any other choices?” asked Boyle.
“I think that this is the best option.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Several minutes later, the car rolled into the industrial compound. It was mostly deserted, but the men and ponies encountered a few guards standing around the building that they had identified.
While they were not obviously armed and dangerous, Daniels decided to assume the worst. He pulled the gun from his briefcase and tucked it behind his back.
The men standing around the building stiffened as the car with government plates approached. If they had weapons, they were well hidden.
Daniels stepped out of the car, flanked by Boyle and the ponies. He flashed his identification.
“We’re investigating a missing pony. Would any of you know about that?”
None of the guards said anything. Daniels reached for the door handle. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I take a look.”
One of the men had a spine, at least. “You can’t do that.”
Boyle stepped up to him, using his size as an advantage to look down on the man. “Mister, we’re Feds. I doubt that you’ve never been involved in a national investigation before. Want to be?”
The man crumbled. “He’s inside.”
Daniels pulled open the door. Constant was tied to a chair and a man with a knife stood over him. The man started to turn, dropping the knife and going for another weapon. Daniels grabbed for his gun, as did Boyle. Constant jerked at the sound of shots. The man hit the floor of the warehouse with five bullets in him.
Stepping through the building door with his gun up, Daniels saw the illegal doorway. It was open, and he watched a second man duck through it. He ran forward. There appeared to be a forest of some kind on the other side.
The man was running hard. Daniels prepared to go through the doorway after him, but stopped, startled by the sudden appearance of a large creature.
The four-headed monstrosity had appeared from the trees to one side of the doorway. The man, who looked like Charles Line, saw it too. He tried to change direction, but the hydra grabbed him with one of its four mouths. His shrill scream was cut off abruptly.
Daniels took a few steps backwards, lowering the gun in shock as one of the hydra’s other heads noticed the doorway. With a roar, it charged. The doorway suddenly shut off. Daniels looked around. Boyle’s hand was on the power button.
Daniels surveyed the scene inside the building. Applejack was untying Constant, who was bloody but alive. Boyle barked at Lemon to summon help. He told her where a nearby hospital was, and she flew off to find it.
The men outside had scattered when the shooting started. They would have to be rounded up later. At the moment, all that mattered was that Constant had been located.
Daniels sighed. He could really use something from Sugarcube Corner right about now.
A couple of days later, Daniels was back in Ponyville. He was delivering an after-action report from the Navy to the RIS. It contained details that the Chicago Police Department had provided. Based on all the data that had been collected, the techies at the office had managed to put together the truth of what had happened.
Applejack met him at the Cakes’ shop for coffee and doughnuts. He laid out the folder and walked her through the contents.
“Ah’m glad all that is over,” she said. “Still, what’s to stop another group from tryin’ it again?”
“Not much, I’ll admit. We might be busy investigating this kind of thing.”
“Well, that’s a shame.”
Changing the subject, Daniels asked, “How’s Constant?”
“Well, he’s gettin’ better. Them scars are gonna make him look tough,” she laughed.
“I admit, he’s tougher than I gave him credit for.” Daniels had been though counter-interrogation training, and knew that when your life was on the line it could be very difficult to keep your mouth shut.
“Oh, he also told me to thank you. Ah want to thank you, too. He’s important to me.”
“So is there something between you?”
Applejack flushed. Daniels smiled. “Come on, tell the truth.”
“Well, yes, ah reckon there is. It wasn’t until all this that ah realized just how much we have goin’.”
“Does he know?”
She nodded. “Ah figure an engagement ain’t out of the question. Once he gets outta the hospital, o’ course. Ah’m kinda nervous, though.”
“You chased criminals all over both dimensions to save a pony you care about, and you’re worried about commitment?”
Applejack laughed. “Ah guess you’re right. Ah got a trip scheduled to Fillydelphia soon. Constant should know the truth about how ah feel.”
Daniels nodded. “I wish you the best.” He chomped the rest of his doughnut.
Fillydelphia
Constant’s notes were they only thing they had to go on. Daniels frowned at the list. It wasn’t much.
At Applejack’s suggestion, they had decided to run down the suspects and see if Constant could be found. It was the best plan the two of them had been able to come up with. The rest of the ponies at the RIS office seemed unconcerned.
"Ah don't care what they say. Ah'm convinced Constant's in trouble." They took the list of suspects from Constant's desk and left the building.
The first name was Mr. Dirty Hanky. Applejack had limited knowledge of Fillydelphia, but enough to get them there. The house looked old and run-down. The pony that answered the door did, too.
“Have you seen an RIS agent today?” Applejack asked him.
“Nope. I’ve been shut inside the whole time.”
His statement earned him a glare from Applejack. He stuttered.
“Uh, I mean I went out for a bit. I went to the pub…for a while. I still didn’t meet anypony from the RIS.”
“Watch yourself,” said Applejack, turning away. It was a tone of voice that Daniels had never heard her use before. Of course, he’d never heard her catch a possible criminal in a lie, either.
The second address on the list was a bust. There was no answer to knocking on the door. Daniels wasn’t sure if it was because the pony was out, or just unwilling to open up without a warrant.
The next place was an industrial property owned by Mr. Dark Fog. It was a large building, but old. The windows were boarded up.
They took a walk around. Daniels grabbed a door latch and to his surprise it was unlocked. The two of them looked into the open door.
“We can’t go in, legally,” said Applejack.
Daniels spotted something resting on the floor. It was a spent bullet casing.
“Screw it, I’m already out of my jurisdiction.” He stepped through the door. Applejack may have disagreed, but said nothing.
The shiny brass casing was of a caliber that only semiautomatics used. The ejection system on such weapons could throw casings surprisingly far. He walked a little further into the building and found what he was fearing.
There were three ponies and one man, all shot dead. They were careful, killing shots that had been well-placed for lethality. The Flim Flam Brothers had been one thing, but executing three ponies and a human so precisely told Daniels that the shooter must be well practiced.
“You can come in,” he called. “It’s RIS business now.” Applejack stepped through the door and walked over to where Daniels was standing. She glanced briefly at the carnage.
“At least none of ‘em is Constant. Ah’m goin’ to go check the rest of the building.”
Daniels nodded and knelt to gingerly search the man’s pockets. In his wallet was an Illinois driver’s license. Well, that certainly cemented a connection to Chicago.
Applejack came back in a few minutes. “There’s nopony here. I want you to take a look at somethin’, though.”
She led him out into the main room. A large area had been cleared away.
“Do you think they were usin’ a doorway here?” she asked.
It seemed likely. The way things were arranged and some of the scuff marks on the floor seemed to indicate that there might have been one there.
“It still doesn’t explain where Constant is.”
“Well, ah’m sure he was here. If he got away, then he woulda found us. Ah think he mighta been captured.”
“I hate to say this, but I don’t think that’s likely. Whoever we’re dealing with has shown that killing doesn’t bother them.”
“We’ve still got to look for him!”
Daniels nodded. “I think I know a good place to start.”
First things first, though. They called the police. Once the scene was locked down, the two of them went back to the RIS office.
“Whaddya mean he hasn’t been gone long enough?” said Applejack.
“Let me spell it out for you,” said Sugar Song. “Constant left after lunch. It’s not even suppertime yet. Not very much time has passed.”
“But we got to do somethin’!” Applejack’s voice was rising.
“And we will. If he hasn’t turned up by morning, we’ll get started on a missing pony case. Let me remind you, Ms. Apple, I'm in charge here. You don't even work in this office.”
Applejack gritted her teeth. To Daniels, it looked like she was trying hard not to say something that she would regret.
“Can ah use your telephone?” she managed.
“Go down the hall.”
“What are you planning?” Daniels asked quietly as they left Sugar Song’s office.
“We gotta try somethin' else. Nopony in this office wants to help.” She grabbed the telephone receiver with her hooves. “Could you please dial Ponyville?”
Daniels punched the numbers for her. All signs were pointing to Chicago. It looked like he wasn’t going to be going home that night.
“Lemon, ah know Paper don’t like field operations, but we need everypony we can get," Applejack was saying. "Convince him to come along.” She gave a few more instructions before setting the phone down.
“Let’s go.”
Constant examined his surroundings. The other side of the doorway looked rough and shoddily built in comparison to the government doorways. He wanted to reprogram it and go somewhere that gun-toting maniacs weren’t, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was smart, but working on something like that was over his head.
He decided that it was more important to get out of the area as quickly as possible before more hostiles showed up. He cracked open the building’s outside door and had a look.
There was water, either an ocean or a very large lake. A few other buildings were around. Just about everything was made of either concrete or steel. All the buildings looked old and little-used.
Off in the distance, a tall skyline dominated the horizon. The buildings looked like nothing Constant had ever seen before. Skyscrapers meant people. While he didn’t particularly like crowds, especially crowds of humans, he was less likely to get murdered in public.
Constant made the decision to head towards the skyline. He had no idea where he was, but figured that there had to be other doorways out there somewhere. It beat staying where he was.
He walked to the corner of the building. There were others beyond it. He started across the stretch of pavement between them. There was a human vehicle approaching.
Just a pony, nothing to see here. Ignore me, ignore me— A hand holding a gun came out the window. Constant sprinted for cover amid the sound of gunfire. Bullets smacked the pavement around him.
He put a building between himself and the shooter and kept going at a full gallop. There was some kind of tall metal fence surrounding the area. Constant didn’t see a way through it, and knew he couldn’t go over the top.
He moved laterally, looking for any way to get away from the gunman. The sound of the vehicle drew closer.
There was a tiny gap between two panels in the lower part of the fence. Constant tugged on it with his magic, widening it only slightly. He yanked harder, and managed to open it up enough to possibly get his head through.
Constant looked over his shoulder. He was out of time. He dove into the hole, his body forcing it wider. The metal scraped his shoulders and raked down over his withers and flank, but he was through.
There were four lanes of a paved highway just outside the fence. He dashed across, just barely avoiding a collision. There were several annoyed honks from more human vehicles, but none stopped.
He slowed down on the sidewalk, panting from exertion. He didn’t feel exactly safe, but thought he could rest just a little.
There was a metal framework that held railroad tracks up off the ground. It ran parallel to the highway. The tracks seemed to extend towards the city skyline, so Constant decided to follow them.
After several minutes of walking, the buildings did not look any closer. Just how tall and far away were they, anyway? His thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling sound.
A boxy metal train made its way along the tracks overhead. Constant caught a glimpse of a red and blue logo. CTA – Chicago Transit Authority
Well, now he knew the name of the city, for all the good that did him. He kept walking. A stairway reached up to an elevated station for the train. He almost passed it, but stopped, an idea coming to mind.
Up in the station, he found what he’d been looking for, a map. It was a little confusing with multicolored lines extending across the city, but he figured it out eventually. He learned where he was, and realized that the skyline he’d been following was still quite a long ways away.
He turned to go back down to the street. He had no way to pay for a train ride. A weathered sign in the station caught his eye. Bears tickets for sale! That seemed like a strange thing to sell tickets for. Earth was already giving him headaches.
Ponyville
Applejack, Lemon Slice, and Paper Pusher stood in line with Daniels. There was a large crowd ahead of them bound for Chicago, and all were impatiently waiting.
“We shouldn’t have left the office unattended,” Paper was saying. “We’re supposed to be open until five. To do otherwise is a breach of public faith.”
“Nopony ever stops by anyway,” said Applejack. “Ah doubt they’ll miss us.”
“Getting the documentation filed to authorize this trip is not going to be easy. Not to mention the expense reports.”
“Come off it, Paper,” said Lemon. “If we find Constant, then everything will be okay. Success makes a lot misfiled paperwork go away.”
Daniels had to agree. Getting the job done made up for a lot of shortcomings.
Author note: