The Chancellor of Manehattan

The Chancellor of Manehattan

By Chimpso

The Chancellor of Manehattan was the only one to exit through the back door.

He pulled his overcoat around himself tighter and began his walk down the stairs, back into the streets of the grey city. The chattering of his fellow congress ponies floated to his ears on smoggy zephyrs that fluttered the dying trees and rustled what leaves remained away from the solidarity and comfort of their home branches, carrying them to the cold brown pavement below as his hooves stepped over them, their tired skin milked to the point of not producing the slightest audible crunch.

As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the thought of a destination flickering briefly through his mind before being expelled, his eyes remained fixed to the ground as his hooves passed over the gnarly weeds sprouting from the overgrown grass that had tenaciously slipped through the concrete, reaching skyward and longing for the beauty of the sun to give them new life. Such beauty they would not obtain, not on this night, and not on those of the future, for the sky sat painted an acrid mosaic of greys, blacks and reds, the red of Celestia’s sun fighting to power through the smog and cleanse the city below, but to no avail.

He remembered when it had all started, the offices and businesses being replaced with the factories and warehouses. The few remaining skyscrapers – the symbols of the city’s drive for progress – sat obscured behind the towering chimneys that threatened to rival them in height and, as the times progressed, their importance as well, as the offices were no longer of concern, owned by the factories for their own benefit as headquarters and opulent living space for the corporation heads. The shops and small businesses were gone – they were no longer needed. Manehattan: The City of Progress, determined to prove it until the very end.

The Chancellor of Manehattan sidestepped the conventional path into the downtown district of the city – where the few commercial shops and residential neighborhoods remained – and took another road, this one branching towards the outskirts. He walked for a duration he didn’t acknowledge at first, until he looked up at the sky and noticed that the orange hues of sunset filtering through the clouds was gone, replaced with the pale blue of the moonlight flittering through the smog. There was silence all around him; the machinery being powered down and the workers returning home several hours earlier; those that had homes at least.

His thoughts had wandered as he walked, drifting to his life, his friends, his family, what he had just committed himself to earlier that day, and what it meant for the little time he had left. His thoughts on these matters were pretty secure, but the one thing that tugged on his mind was that dreaded, three letter question; so simple and yet so complex: Why?

As he had stood up in the assembly, the only one that did so, and voiced those words of disagreement, he immediately wondered why. The thought hadn’t occurred to him beforehand. He admitted to himself that he had thought about doing it in the past, but they were always idealistic thoughts, up there with a foals aspirations of a future of flying to the stars. He had never thought it would happen, that he’d actually do it, that he’d find the courage to do it.

But was it courage? Perhaps it was fear, fear of what would happen if he didn’t make a stand, but he dismissed that too. He had much more to fear from making a stand then not, and yet he didn’t fear anything now. Nothing was unexpected, he knew what would happen, a seven could not be rolled on a six-sided dice, there were only a few ways that the night would end, and he feared none of them.

So what was it then?

He was somewhere seedy now, both in the mind and the body. His ears were cold as the wind blew between them, and the buildings around him were dirty collaborations of rough stone and wood, the only illumination being the faint glow of the windows and flickering of fireflies. These were the destitute parts of town; the factories here were not the pride and joy of Industrial Manehattan, rather they were the necessary producers of capital and raw materials to fuel the economic engines of the city. Except for the rustling of the grass and few remaining trees in the gentle twilight breeze, nothing moved or made a sound. With the mass of Earth Pony workers – of which this district was comprised almost entirely of – finally being allowed to go home, the area was dead. It was all so unfamiliar to him, he had never wandered so far before.

He was sure there had been forest here once, Manehattan had been surrounded by it. That was many years ago, now it had given way to stone and iron, with the wood mutated and transfigured into factories and homes, the former more than the later; many families lived together. Industry demanded space, but so did ponies. Fortunately, many ponies could occupy small spaces if it was their only option, and for the Earth ponies who had flocked to the city in droves in the hope of work, it was their only option.

“Hold up there pal, you’re about to have a nasty trip.”

The Chancellor of Manehattan nearly tripped over himself at the sound of a voice to his right. As he looked down, a derelict fence post, studded with long rusted barbed wire, stood in his path. Walking into that would have indeed been nasty.

The Chancellor turned to face his benefactor, and saw an Earth Pony with a coat of brown not unlike his own. While he stood with his overcoat and it’s many layers, the Earth Pony’s clothing was far simpler, a single-layered cloak hooded over his head with his ears poking out the top. He had deep blue eyes, and a faint smile. His accent was local, and he didn’t look too old.

“Don’t see many of you lot around here too often,” The Earth Pony said. He was lying in the grass, underneath one of the pines of the forest that once stood there. The grass around him, green and blemished, was long and untamed; there was no need to maintain it if it did not interfere with progress. He sat surrounded by the long blades, some of them reaching past the height of his barrel. Fireflies danced around the blades and through the tree above, undisturbed by him and his voice. A small bag leaned against the tree, likely containing any possessions he owned.

The Chancellor of Manehattan indeed did realise that he was out of place in that district. Unicorns were not usually seen around there, they were employed at the factories that brought everything together, not in theses dirty industries. Pegasi were found in both, but were more often than not employed as message bearers and couriers. The Earth Ponies were all here, in these districts, performing the work that that other ponies didn’t see fit to do.

Perhaps it was guilt? There was another idea, another perspective. Perhaps he'd felt guilty about his status, his prestige; about the circumstances of his birth. Perhaps. Though it had never affected him in the past, he had been quite content. After all, the spoils had been grand. And so, the why remained.

“So why are ya’ out here, pal?” The Earth Pony asked, “I’d think you were here on business, but not this late, eh?”

The Chancellor became suddenly aware that he had not yet spoken a word, and shuffled his hooves as he tried to think of something to say. “I don’t suppose taking a walk is a good enough reason?”

“Walk?” The Earth Pony replied incredulously, “Out here? A Unicorn takin’ a walk out here? That’d be rather strange during the day, but at night? Seems to be up there with miracles, pal, don’t happen too often.” He sniffled as his ears twitched, another zephyr blowing past, sounding the gentle rustle of the tree above. “Where’ya off to?”

The Chancellor of Manehattan cast his eyes to the cold stone beneath his hooves; he didn’t know, he had no idea. He could feel the Earth Pony’s own eyes trying to read him, and his visage of indifference he had thought perfected from years of political office had not seen itself fit to present upon his face. His head shot up again as the Earth Pony spoke: “Wanna talk about it?”

Indeed, the Chancellor of Manehattan wasn’t used to hearing such an honest and forlorn request. He had heard it many times before of course; the ingratiating, sympathetic utterance of his colleagues; the tender, inquisitive question from his wife – but never had he heard it so sincerely asked. The Earth Pony had known him for all of a minute, but already sensed a disease in him that those around him hadn’t cared to notice, that he himself hadn’t cared to notice.

He slowly approached the Earth Pony’s alcove of bark and grass, shivering as his hooves left the stone of the path and stepped into the minute remnant of forest resting between hard steel and stone. As he eyed the space next to the other pony, he had doubts. Did he really want to sit on the grass and dirt? In such a fine overcoat?

He sighed, it didn’t matter. After tonight, nothing would.

As The Chancellor gingerly sat down, feeling the grass tickle his legs and brush up against the overcoat around him, the Earth Pony grinned as if he had just won some ludicrous bet. “Would’ya look at that, something must really be troubling ya’ to sit down with one of us, pal.”

“One of us?” The Chancellor asked, though he knew perfectly well what the Earth Pony meant.

“Yeah, one of us. Ya’know, us workers, us Earth Ponies.” He scraped a hoof through the dirt below him, then held it up to his face before shaking off the clumped dirt that had matted his fur. “Though we’re more like Steel Ponies now, or Stone Ponies. Can hardly say we’re of the Earth anymore.”

The Chancellor recoiled slightly at the truth of the Earth Pony’s sentiment. The Industrialisation had removed much of agriculture and farming from Equestria’s industry. Only small towns dedicated purely to such fruitless endeavors, such as Ponyville, still spent their precious land on fields and trees. It was of course necessary: Equestria needed food, but it always irked him to see so much land do so little.

But did he really think that? If he did, why had he spoken up? What was the motive behind his objection? He still couldn’t fathom it. Equestria had undoubtedly changed dramatically over the last few decades, but he had never suffered any ill from it; the rapid industrialisation and booming industry had only made him and his colleagues richer and richer. His own career in politics had soared, anything to do with everything he had objected to had helped him in some way or form. Why did he do it?

“Say, pal,” The Earth Pony broke their short silence, “What do you think of all this, eh? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I understand how you lot do well from it and all, but this used to be a forest ya’ know? I used to take long walks through this place back when I was a kid, let my imagination soar, now it’s just this.” He extended a hoof towards the grey of the factory their small alcove sat facing. “There’s no nature left, just this little patch right here that they somehow missed while they were plowing through.”

The Chancellor of Manehattan had had this conversation many times before. His interactions with the public were sparse nowadays, especially with the Earth Ponies, but he knew where this question would lead, and he knew how he was meant to respond, but that didn’t seem to register at that time. If this would be his last night, he’d might as well be honest. “I don’t know.”

The Earth Pony cocked his head, confused at the unorthodox reply. “What’ya mean?”

“Well, I don’t know.” The Chancellor repeated, staring at the ground between his forelegs. “At least, not anymore.”

“Rough night, eh?” The Earth Pony said, staring off at the sky over the roof of the factory as the moon poked through a small hole in the smog.

“A rough day, rather,” The Chancellor mumbled, still not sure what he hoped to gain from the conversation, “I made a choice. I did something, but I can’t figure out why. That’s all.”

“That’s all’? That’s a pretty big deal, pal. Have an argument with a wife or marefriend, eh? I know that feeling, never been able to settle down myself.”

The Chancellor laughed, arguments with his wife had always been the most depressing thing for him in the past, but tonight, they seemed like mere child's play. “Not quite.”

“Aww, I was close though, wasn’t I?” The Earth Pony was grinning, and he scratched his chin as he formulated another guess.”Okay, so it’s not a mare. Lemme guess; bad day at work?”

The Chancellor nodded.

“Bingo!” The Earth Pony hollered, as if he had just struck gold, “Still got the touch for guessin’ ponies. Now I just gotta guess where you work.”

The Chancellor of Manehattan felt somewhat awkward listening to the Earth Pony, but he had to admit that he was surprised at how well he was taking him. Most of the Earth Ponies he had met or passed had viewed him with a sort of scorn. His tours with other party members through the industrial regions of the city always left him with a feeling of foreboding as he returned home in the evening, still feeling the resentful eyes of the Earth Ponies boring into him even through the night. He had been in part responsible for this after all; a part of the Unicorn aristocracy, naturally resented by the working class Earth Ponies. This one however, didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t disguising or hiding his contempt, the Chancellor honestly believed that he had none in him at all. He treated him as if he were just any other Earth Pony friend, and seemed to have no intent to blame him for the ills of his own life, even if The Chancellor believed that he deserved to be blamed, at least in part. Why had he been so welcoming? Again, that question was back to haunt him.

“Okay, that’s a very nice coat, so I’m gonna guess you work in the business sector.” He thought for another second, before his face lit up. “You’re an executive, right? One of those big-shot business ponies with their own little secretaries and pencil-necked coffee genies?”

The Chancellor laughed, finding the idea that anyone else would do his paperwork rather amusing. “No, try again.”

The Earth Pony was more than welcome to accept the challenge, rattling off job after job, title after title, and position after position. He’d come close a few times, but had never managed to hit home. The Chancellor had to admit it, he was enjoying himself. Their laughter was a soothing remedy for his problems, making them fade and be forgotten, if only for a while. Finally, the Earth Pony threw up his hooves and admitted defeat.

“Alright pal, I give up.” He said, trying to appear dejected but not being able to efface his grin. “What do you do then?”

The Chancellor hesitated. The Earth Pony had been nice to him as of now, but if he revealed who he truly was, would that change? He might have considered him simply a high class unicorn with a good job, but a job that could not change anything that had already be set into motion. The Chancellor did have a job that allowed for him to do just that.

Then he remembered that he had changed something, and that he had nothing to lose.

Reaching into his overcoat, he removed a lapel pin. It was sparkling gold, depicting a trinity of an Earth Pony head, Pegasus feathers, and a unicorn horn, all connected to the depiction of a sun and moon in the center: Celestia and Luna. The three races of ponies working together in harmony for the prosperity of Equestria under the princesses. The pin was a symbol of many things, harmony, community, but most importantly, justice. The pin signified that all ponies were useful to Equestria, and that the rule of the kingdom under Celestia and Luna would be fair and ripe with opportunity.

It was the well-recognised badge of office for the Manehattan Chancellor of Justice.

The Earth Pony’s eyes went wide, and his head darted back and forth between the badge and the Chancellor of Justice. He seemed to want to say something, but instead quickly got to his hooves and brushed the grass from his cloak. “Oh... I-I... Sorry, sir. I had no idea... I–”

The Chancellor quickly got to his own hooves and shushed the Earth Pony, not from his authority, simply to calm him. “Think nothing of it,” he said, “Tonight, I’m nothing special.”

“Nothing special?” The Earth Pony’s mouth was hanging open. “You’re the freakin’ Chancellor of Justice, you’ve been all over the news today. Didn’t you contradict your own party of something? Didn’t they have to call a debate or discussion or whatever to decide what they’re going to make of all this?” The Earth pony swayed a hoof around wildly, indicating the industry all around them.

“Yes,” The Chancellor sighed.

“Sweet Celestia, pal! Everyone here thinks you’re a hero!”

“Really?” The Chancellor asked, genuinely surprised. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and most certainly would never have the chance to.

“Yeah! You guys might not know, but we do. We know what will happen if we keep expanding. There’s not enough workers, pal, just not enough, and we know what you’re gonna do about that: shut down other Earth Pony occupations to bring more of us here. It’ll degrade our culture even further! I mean, what do you plan to do when there’s not enough room or workers to build farms and grow food? We can’t just import all our food from the Zebra or Griffons, they’re industrialising to. Soon no one will want to be producing food, it’ll be a disaster.” The Earth Pony had obviously thought this through, and of course, the Chancellor was well aware of the consequences he was describing. It was of no concern to his party however, they were sure it would work out in the end, and besides, that had been the problem for the economists, not him.

“Aren’t you going to give a speech on it tomorrow? I mean, you have to, right? You’re the Chancellor of Justice and so you have to object when you think the Government is pursuing an unlawful or dangerous line of policy, which means you have to make a speech, right? Right?” The Chancellor recoiled slightly at the Earth Pony’s energy and vigor. He was staring at him intently, the moon reflected in his expectant blue eyes as it shone through another hole in the smog.

“I’m afraid I will not be able to make it to the speech tomorrow,” The Chancellor said, casting his eyes downwards to avoid the Earth Pony’s saddened gaze. “I’m afraid I won’t even make it to tomorrow actually.”

“What do you mean?” The Earth Pony asked, his eyes now weary and worried.

“I mean, my party is not going to take this kindly. We’ve benefited greatly from this and have always been in support of continued industrialisation. But now...” His voice drifted off as he suddenly thought of his family. Why hadn’t he thought of them before? His wife, his daughter, what was he leaving behind? It pained him for a moment, but then he remembered that it wouldn’t pain him after tonight, there would be nothing left to feel. “But now that I’ve spoken up, there are doubts all across Congress, doubts about the rapid expansion. It might actually be possible that it won’t go through, we might be able to slow it down, stop it even.”

“That’s good though!” the Earth Pony cheered, wrapping a hoof around the Chancellor’s shoulder and flashing his wild grin. “Now maybe we can have the chance to at least settle in before being herded out to find another paying job on the other side of the city.”

“Yes, but as I said, my party won’t take this too kindly.”

“So what? What do ya’ think they’re gonna do? Have you whacked?” The Earth Pony joked, but the Chancellor just stared at him.

And then The Chancellor of Justice nodded.

The Earth Pony’s smile faded as a look of surprise slowly took over his face. He shook his head. “No... I mean, no! They can’t do that, right? They can’t do that! You’re the Chancellor of Justice! Ponies will ask questions, the police will...”

He stopped as the Chancellor just shook his head solemnly. “The Police will be bribed away, questions will be asked for a while, but it’ll all die down. Soon, everything will be back to normal. I’ll just be replaced, after a few weeks, no one will remember.”

“But... can’t you do something? Anything?” The Earth Pony was trying to find hope in the Chancellor’s veridian eyes, but the only thing there was a simple acceptance of the inevitability of his fate.

“I don’t welcome my death, but I can accept it. I accepted it not long after I spoke up.” The Chancellor ran a hoof through his mane and exhaled. “I just wish I could make that speech. It could have changed so much. I don’t know why, but... I just felt that something was wrong. I think I know now, I didn’t know before, why I spoke up that is, but now I think I do. I profited from this system for so long, but I’m a product of the past, I knew how things were before. Everyday I would look around and find everything wrong, but I never actually realized that it was spurring on my actions. I thought my selfishness was what motivated me, and maybe it did at first, but now it doesn’t even matter. I was doing one thing while believing in something entirely different, and I didn’t even know it.”

“So, that’s it then, there’s nothing you can do?” The Earth Pony asked.

“No, not for me. No matter where I go, they will find me. There is nothing I can do to save myself.” The Chancellor sat back down on his haunches, feeling more deflated than he ever had. Even losing debates on policy hadn’t been as disheartening as thinking of what laid ahead of him now. He was silently praying for that confidence he had possessed previously to return to him, but it would not come back.

Then, a glimmer of hope sparked across his mind.

The Earth Pony, noticing the sudden alertness of his features, approached him slowly, “What is it, pal?”

“Are you comfortable with your life?” The Chancellor asked pointedly. “Do you like what you’ve been given?”

“What sort of question is that? Of course I don’t, none of us do. But we need money to get by, we need to work and support our families, even if we have to spend the nights on the streets, as long as we can return home and feed our children we’ll take any work we can get.” He chuckled half-heartedly, “The again, I don't have a family, but I still need to survive.”

“Would you like to carry on the fight then?” The Chancellor dug around in his pockets and produced the lapel pin. “Would you like to do what I can’t do?”

“What? Be the Chancellor of Justice? I don’t think it works like that, pal.”

“No, not be the Chancellor of Justice, just take my place for one day. Tomorrow.”

“What?” The Earth Pony recoiled, taking a step back. “What’ya mean, ‘take your place’?”

“I mean...” The Chancellor stopped himself. Was this Earth Pony, a laborer, really the one to speak on his behalf? He seemed to have only a modicum of knowledge on politics and the government, but perhaps that was good. His party had spoken time and time again about the long term effects of the Industrialisation, how it would benefit Equestria in the long run. The ends justified the means, that was their idea: a little pain now, to make the country stronger in the long run.

Perhaps, he thought, they needed someone to tell it how it was, that the delusions of a grander future were towering over the reality of the present. There was an issue, an issue that existed in the hearts, hooves and minds of all the Earth Ponies, and it was being ignored, disregarded, and they continued to toil along, because they had no other option.

“What?!” The Earth Pony skittered backwards, his mouth held open in shock. “No way, pal! Not for a billion bits! I mean, look at what’s gonna happen to you because ya’ spoke up, you want that to happen to me too?”

The Chancellor of Justice remained calm, trying to reassure the Earth Pony, “Nothing will happen to you. They are going after me because I am highly influential and my disappearance can be easily covered up as not many ponies know me personally. You however, I assume you have a lot of friends?”

The Earth Pony still eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. “Yeah, we all know each other in the factories, I know a lot of the others from this block too.”

“Exactly,” The Chancellor said. “If you went up on stage and gave a speech, the papers would plaster your name everywhere. When you return here, you’ll have dozens or even hundreds of ponies backing you up. If they try to eliminate you, everyone will know it was them.”

“But... But... I’ve no idea what to say. I mean, I ain’t never made a speech before. You can’t trust me to do this.” The Earth Pony’s head was darting around nervously, as if trying to find an answer in the dead steel and cold stone around him. “I’m not you, I wouldn’t have any idea what to say.”

The Chancellor of Justice approached him, and, placing a hoof on his shoulder, looked straight into his blue eyes. “Say what you want. You’ve been saying it for years. Think about it, you have all night. When morning comes around, you’ll know what you say, and no one will be able to stop you.”

With that, The Chancellor held the lapel pin out to the Earth Pony, its gold trimming shining in the transient moonlight. “I trust you. I know you can do this.”

The Earth Pony didn’t know what to say, his mind could find no words to describe how he was feeling at that point in time. A great surge of hope was shooting through him, invigorating his muscles and making him feel as if he would bound around the small patch of forest that remained whilst singing a jaunty tune at the top of his lungs. On the other hand, a surge of fear blasted through those same veins, making him feel small and afraid, making him want to curl up in some hard stone corner of the expanse of industry all around him and weep for a better tomorrow. Such an unnatural combination of emotions perplexed him, neither trumping the other as they mixed and fought for control of his mind, but he had to do something. He had to make a choice, and make it right now.

His hoof reached out and scooped up the lapel pin before he even knew what he was doing. He felt it recoil back in the direction of The Chancellor of Justice, trying to undo the decision, but he willed it to remain. “I’ll do it.”

Did he really just say that? Did he really mean it? No. What was he getting himself into? He had just been sitting there, innocently awaiting the new day and next job, and now he had accepted an offer to stand in front of politicians and citizens alike, and make a speech?

The more he refused to believe it, the stronger the belief became. Did he have anything to lose? Would it be worth it? What would it even accomplish? Those questions cut through his mind like a Griffon sabre in the grip of sharp talons, but his body was telling him to do it.

Do it.

He held the hoof holding the pin to his chest, and tried to keep his voice as confident and sure as possible as he met the Chancellor’s eyes. “I’ll do it. Where do I need to be?”

The Chancellor smiled and nodded his head in relieved approval. “In front of Congress, at midday.”

“And I just need to show them the pin, right?”

“Yes.”

The Earth Pony let out a long sigh “Okay, tomorrow then. Tomorrow it is.”

The Chancellor just nodded again and placed his hoof back on the Earth Pony’s shoulder. “Good luck.” With those parting words, the Chancellor turned to leave, when the Earth Pony suddenly noticed that his friend was departing.

“Wait! I never got your name, pal.” The Earth Pony shouted out.

“Does it really matter?” the Chancellor of Justice turned his head and shouted back, “What’s in a name?”

The Earth Pony laughed, a hearty yet saddening laugh. The Chancellor suddenly realized that it was the last genuine laugh that he would hear. “Take care of yourself, pal,” the Earth Pony said, “Take as much care of yourself as you can.”

As The Chancellor finally broke eye contact with the Earth Pony, disappearing around the corner of a factory, the comfort of their discussion faded, and the Chancellor began to feel sick to his stomach. He felt the compulsion to vomit, but forced himself to swallow it down as his heart rate picked up and his blood ran cold through his veins. He knew where he was going now, and he knew what waited for him there. He kept telling himself over and over again that he was not afraid, that he needed not be afraid of things that he knew would happen, but it didn’t help.

As The Chancellor of Justice marched back towards his home, towards death, he knew that only one phrase would be uttered between him and his colleagues that night as they made ready his demise. The only phrase that needed be said when the majority outweighed his minority, the phrase that would be uttered with the utmost sadness and shame as they would surround him with their hard, disappointed faces, all dolled up in their fancy attire.

“You’ve talked this over, I presume?”