Progress

Mr. Sparrow was quietly walking the grounds of his complex.  He looked at the small world he had built up in just a few decades, and some part of him felt it wasn’t enough.  After what she had done to him, he deserved so much more.  A sardonic smile crossed his lips.  Ponies never get what they deserve.  If I’ve learned one thing it’s that you have to take what you want.

Despite his anger, Mr. Sparrow was not particularly worried.  Everything was going according to plan.  Miss Bolt was on the train, and would soon destroy the evidence.  It would be a few days or perhaps weeks more, and all would be complete.

Sparrow glanced across to his second in command.  Doctor Brown Punch looked to be a nervous wreck.  She floated a writing tablet before herself, furiously scribbling out and writing new lines.

“Doctor,” Punch looked up at him, startled.  “Shall we get lunch?”  Punch nodded her consent and they began a trek towards the worker’s town.

“I’ve been thinking, and what if you’re wrong.  About miss Bolt, I mean.”

Sparrow sighed.  They’d had this conversation already.  “I assure you, Miss Bolt is entirely within my power.  I can give her the one thing she truly desires.  Power.”

“But–”

“Do you know why Celestia hasn’t promoted her?  She’s a good spy.”

Sparrow waited several seconds, but Punch did not respond.

“Miss Bolt has qualities that good leaders do not want in their spies.  Ambition and greed, not to mention enthusiasm.”

“Explain.”

“It’s quite simple.  If you let a spy who’s ambitious and greedy have too much power, soon you will rot in a dungeon and they will sit the throne.”

“Does Celestia really need to worry about that?”

“Perhaps not, but imagine this.  Miss Bolt is promoted to General of the Covert Guard, with nearly autonomous control over the Guard.  Eventually she grows bored, and so she begins to fight against the nobility, or even the crown itself, but all from the shadows.”

“It seems unlikely.”

Sparrow rolled his eyes.  “Fine, to provide with an actual challenge she sells confidential information to the crown’s enemies, which makes them that much harder to fight.  A spy who did not enjoy intrigue would never do this, but one who did enjoy it, with enough cleverness to do it successfully?  It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

They were nearing the worker’s town.

“So, about our recent acquisition?”

Fluffy Coffee rushed into the hotel.  This is where the inspector was staying.

The receptionist eyes widened when she saw a thirty something mare whose face was stained with soot and tears rush up to her.

“I’m looking for an inspector, is he here?”  Coffee looked around wildly, as if expecting her attacker to leap from the shadows.  When she turned her head the receptionist saw blood matting her the fur on one side of her skull.

“Do you mean detective Barkly?”

“Yes, yes!”

“He’s in room 127.”  Coffee rushed off.

“Ma’am, wait!” the Receptionist called after her, but Coffee ignored him.

The investigator opened the door to his room after some frantic banging and shouting her name a few times.  He stopped, his jaw slackening a little at her appearance.  Coffee rushed into the room and wrenched the door closed, not even bothering to use her magic.

“Miss, what’s going on?”

Coffee jumped at his voice, as if she had forgotten he was in the room.  “Oh! Investigator it was horrible.”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.  Come in, come in.”

So sat on his bed and cried while telling him of the explosion, charging into the apartment, the dying mare’s chilling words, taking the briefcase, and finally the attack outside her shop.

“And then I came here.  Oh, Detective, what do we do?”

“You’re quite sure the papers said progress?”

Coffee nodded emphatically.

“I see.  Well, do you have anywhere to stay?”

“Well, I could stay in my shop, but I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it much longer.”  There’d been no money for insurance, and the building council would expect her to pay for the apartment.  Sure the shop was doing well, but not that well.  In a month or two she wouldn’t be able to afford to keep leasing the building for the shop.  She thought of the chef, but then she remembered the words of that mare.  She didn’t want to see him get hurt.

“The guard has wayhouses set up for situations like this.  I’m sure we can have you taken care of in a day or two.  Just rest for now.”

The Captain’s mind was racing.  Progress had finally slipped up.  Only, they hadn’t because the evidence was gone.  When he’d gone to the scene of the fire, the fireponies had claimed they’d found some sort of strange amulet, but when the firepony went to retrieve it, it was gone.

The Captain’s mind kept coming back to one conclusion, however.  He couldn’t go to the Princess, not yet.  Other than this frightened mare’s testimony there was nothing to go by.

The Captain was walking through the hallways of Canterlot Castle, headed back to his office.  He had a hundred ideas.  Maybe he could find someway to contact Bolt and convince her to find the evidence he needed.  Or else he could–

The Captain stopped.  All his plans were forgotten.

He had just walked past a door, just off the throne room.  It was an office, and he couldn’t help but notice the name ‘Progress’ painted on the door.  What’s more, he couldn’t help but recognize his spy inside that office.

The Captain barged into the office.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh...uh, hello.  I’m new.  My name’s Gentle Marth and I’m here to serve as Progress’ liaison with the Royal Sisters.  And you are?”  His sudden anger fading, the Captain remembered that she was still on assignment.

“I’m Gerald Orkney, head of Road Finance.”  The Captain said, teeth clenched.

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Mr. Orkney.”  The Captain winced internally.  His agents always addressed his as ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’.  She was being careful about it, but he was certain Bolt was gloating.

He needed to talk to her somewhere Progress wasn’t listening.

“Miss Marth, could you meet me in my office.  I need to discuss a potential contract with you.”

“Of course.”  Bolt’s gentle and cheery attitude did nothing to relieve him of his frustration.

The two ponies walked in silence down the castle corridors, finally reaching the Captain’s office.

“Do you have the evidence?”  The Captain hissed.

“Evidence, sir?”

“I– Miss Bolt, what is going on?”

“Well, I was put in charge of an engineering department, then suddenly the boss called me to his office and told me I was coming here.”

“What about your partner?”

“Red?  I haven’t seen him since we got to Progress.  I was told they put him in advertising.”

The Captain paced to his desk and sat down, suddenly feeling very tired.

“There’s something strange at work here.  One day ago an apartment building burned down in the lower section of the town.  A local shopkeeper found a briefcase with evidence implicating Progress in the fire and a larger conspiracy.  She was going to bring it to me when she was attacked and the evidence taken.  On the same day, you show up here.”

“Are you accusing me, Captain?”

The Captain looked at her sharply for a moment.  “No, there’s no evidence to indicate that.  There’s no evidence at all now.”

“Sir, have you considered another possibility?”

“What possibility, operative?”

“Well sir, if I learned anything from my time at Progress it’s that there are a lot of other companies who want to see them fall.  Perhaps the evidence was faked.  Did you see the briefcase?”

The Captain shook his head.

“Then maybe the shopkeeper was a plant.”

“Maybe...Maybe.”  The Captain muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, The Captain reached a decision.  He would simply wait, and let Progress make the next move.

“Miss Marth, I’m afraid the contract simply won’t work.  I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“It was no problem, Mr. Orkney.”  Bolt quickly took her leave.

Bolt wasn’t sure exactly what her duties as liaison would be.  No other companies worked directly with the crown, so there would be no squabbling over contracts.  Maybe she was just supposed to be a messenger between Progress and the throne.  Maybe Mr. Sparrow would tell her.  Or maybe there would be a few awkward meetings where she pretended she knew what to do.

But that didn’t matter now.  It was late, and Celestia had sent a guard to see her to her private guest quarters.

She walked through the halls of the castle, following just behind the guard.  It all felt...new.  It was like she was a filly barely out of college come to see the castle for the first time in her life.  Previously these halls had been a constant reminder that she was stuck.  But now, now that she was here as a guest rather than a servant, these halls were a reminder of all the power now within her grasp.

The guest quarters were the most lavish she had seen since she was a filly.  There was a bed large enough for four ponies to sleep upon, extravagant tapestries, beautiful furniture.  Oh yes, maybe things would be alright.

There was a large safe, by special order of Mr. Sparrow.  She opened it, using the combination he had given her, and carefully place a briefcase and amulet inside.