Millennium Novus

Millennium Novus

Part I: Chapter 3

Questions

“Have you found anything, Officer?”

The brown earth pony looked over his notes with an expression Amber had seen too many times before. It was the look of someone who didn’t have anything good to say, but couldn’t remain silent. The pony took a breath.

“I’m… afraid not, ma’am. There’s very little. We’ve had our best officers on it, though, I assure you.”

“Well, what about the car? The ponies?”

“We’ve checked them both. Several passersby managed to get pictures of the plates, but they led us nowhere. Likewise, none of our contacts report knowing anything about the ponies you mentioned. They’ve simply dropped off the map.”

Amber fixed him with a glare. “That’s not good enough,” she said.

“I know, ma’am, but we’re doing the best we can.”

“The best you can? What is this, kindergarten? That’s my sister you’re talking about! I don’t want to hear that you’ve done your best, I want her back!”

“We’ve got several of our best officers on the case—“

“Yeah? Your best? They drove her away down a street full of ponies in broad daylight! If this is your best, I shudder to think what your worst is. Why, no wonder this town’s so full of crooks and thieves—“

“Miss Sterling!” The officer said, standing up and looking the distraught mare in the face. “I understand how trying this time is for you, but understand that we are doing everything we can to get your sister back. I’m sorry, but I will not stand here and have my station criticized when we are stretched thin as it is. As soon as we have something better for you, we’ll let you know. I promise.”

Amber looked at the stallion, noticing for the first time the bags under his eyes and the unhealthy coloration of his coat. She sat down. “I… I apologize, Officer Stout. You’re trying to help me, and all I can do is shout at you. It’s just, it’s been three days now, and I… I just…” she drew in a shuddering breath. “All I can do is sit and wait.”

Officer Stout’s eyes softened. “I know, ma’am. It must be terrible.” He reached a hoof out, placing it on Amber’s arm. “But we will find her. I've put Detective Vigil on the case. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amber said. She stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of a few errands. You have my number?” The officer nodded. “Good. Then I’ll be seeing you, Officer Stout.”

“Ma’am.”

Amber left the office and walked out of the police station. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, and ponies walked about, enjoying the late afternoon and going about their business with pleasure.

She hated it.

Amber walked to the bus station and checked the times. She’d just missed the last bus, and the next wasn’t due to arrive for almost twenty minutes. Grumbling at the appalling state of public transportation in Hub City, she set off on foot instead. Behind her, unnoticed in the shadows, a form detached itself from the wall and followed.

Amber had never felt so alone. When her parents had passed away, she had had Aria, and when the two of them had moved to the big city, they had never been closer. It had been the two sisters against the world, but now Aria was gone, and Amber did not know what to do.

The walk took longer than she had expected, and by the time she reached her neighborhood, the sun had set. The neon lights and flashing signs grated on her, and suddenly a different destination came to her mind. She walked right past her apartment and entered a small bar tucked between two bigger buildings.

The barkeep greeted her with a knowing look. “Evening, Miss Amber. Usual?”

“I think something a tad stronger tonight, Tap. Can I get a straight Smarenoff martini?”

Tap blinked. “Certainly.” He mixed the drink and poured it into her glass.

Amber took a large gulp without so much as a shudder. She nodded at Tap and he moved off. She looked at the assortment of liquors and beers arrayed behind the counter. So much variety. So much choice. And yet all of them would get a to a pony exactly the same way. The stool next to her turned, and a young stallion seated himself. Tap came sidling up.

“I’ll have a beer,” the stallion said, casting a furtive look at the mare seated next to him.

“Domestic or imported?”

“Uh… domestic.”

Tap brought his beer. The stallion took a sip and tried not to grimace.

Great. Amber finished off her martini and signaled Tap for a second. Most any other day she would have enjoyed the attention, but today she just wanted to be alone. He was young, a colt, really. She thought for a moment, hiding a grin as an idea came to her. The colt took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat.

Amber wipped her head around just as the colt began to speak. “Can I help you?” She asked, voice sweet as silk.

He looked surprised for a moment, but then he cleared his throat again and spoke. “Y-yes. Um, how’s it going?”

“Oh, you know,” Amber said, waving a hoof airily. “Just another long day at work pretending like I’m not dealing with a massive family tragedy, then a light walk to the police station where I find that they’ve made absolutely no progress finding my sister, and now I’m trying to take a bit of the burden off and have some time to myself, except a bumbling idiot who doesn’t even know the difference between domestic and imported beer is hitting on me with all the elegance of an elephant tap-dancing in a china cabinet.” She gave him her sweetest face. “You?”

“Ab, I… well…” the colt’s face was beet red. Tap, swabbing the counter on the far side of the bar, chuckled.

“You’re in for it now, kid,” he said.

“I… do you… want to-to… uh…”

“I think the lady’s had enough, don’t you?” a new voice said. Amber and the colt both turned to look.

A unicorn stallion stood there, eying the would-be pickup artist with distaste. He was dressed in a dark brown suit, trench coat, and fedora. He loomed over the stammering colt, eyes cold. “Get,” he said.

The colt scrambled out of the seat as fast as he could. The stallion took his place, giving the abandoned beer a look of disgust.

“You’re paying for that, you know,” Tap said. “Scaring away my customers like that.”

The unicorn rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Get me what the lady’s having.” Tap nodded and moved off. “Now,” he said, turning to Amber, “I have something to tell you—“

“And where do you get off of?” Amber asked, “treating him like that.”

The unicorn blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Poor boy was just trying to talk to a lady, and you scare him away. So uncouth.”

A loud guffaw was heard from the direction of the barkeep. The unicorn took in a breath. “In case you didn’t notice, you’d done a number on him yourself. Now—“

“And that outfit is hideous.”

“Excuse me?” the unicorn said, staring at Amber.

“Quite. Look at that. Brown suit, trench coat? Real stylish if you’re, I don’t know, living eighty years ago. And a fedora? What is this, The Maltese Falcon? Simply horrid.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, you’re… kind of a jerk!”

Amber gasped. “Such wit! I’m practically falling into your arms. Do dazzle me again!”

With visible effort, the stallion reigned himself in. “If you’ll give me a chance to explain myself, Miss Sterling, maybe you’ll find that I’m not here for what you think.”

Amber narrowed her eyes, the faint air of humor in the room vanishing. “How did you know my name?”

“That’s not all I know,” the stallion said. From within his coat he produced a number of pictures and placed them on the counter. In spite of herself, Amber examined them. Although a few featured herself, almost all of them were of Aria. Aria singing, Aria playing a school, Aria walking with her friends…

“What is this?” She asked, voice sharp.

“These pictures were taken by the kidnappers in the weeks before they acted.”

Amber kept looking. She saw a picture of Aria sleeping in her bed. “They knew where she lived…” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said. “And that’s not all. All the evidence points to a kidnapping months in the making. The car was purchased for just the occasion, and the perpetrators covered their tracks with professional ease. These are big ponies.”

Amber looked up at the stallion and saw the fire in his eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name isn’t important,” the stallion said. “I am merely a concerned citizen. And I ask you: will you accept my help?”

“Your help?”

“In finding the kidnappers.” The stallion removed his fedora, and Amber noticed his mane for the first time: vibrant blue, with a softer streak running through the middle. There was something almost… familiar about him.

“I…” she said.

“Hey, I know you!” Tap said, bringing back the stallion’s drink. “You’re the crazy heir to the Shield house!”

Amber could pinpoint the exact moment the mood snapped. “What?” she asked.

“Oh, shoot,” the stallion muttered, a long suffering expression on his face.

“Yeah!” Tap said, scratching his chin with a hoof. “You had that conspiracy theory thing. You’re Honorable Shield, or something like that.”

“Noble Shield,” the stallion said, his voice tired. “And it’s not a theory. I have actual, verifiable evidence that Lord Sanguine is a crook. But that’s another matter.”

He turned back to Amber, only to find a hoof whistling towards his face. Smack!

“What the hay was that for?” he shouted, falling back on the seat and rubbing his cheek.

“That’s for getting my hopes up!” Amber shouted. “Here I thought you might be able to help me, and it turns out you’re just some sort of quack! Ugh!” She swiped at him again, but he yelped and ducked.

“Miss Sterling, I assure you, I might have a bit of a controversial past, but my results are anything but!” Noble shouted. “These pictures are real, and I have much more evidence in my office. Please, just hear me out.”

Amber looked at him, and he gave her his best dazzling smile. She rolled her eyes. “You probably think you’re a right private eye, don’t you? At least it explains the fedora. Honestly. But…” She thought about it. She could remember the debacle, now that Tap had jogged her memory. Noble Shield showed up in the tabloids that the her employer stocked from time to time, spouting crazy theories about the aliens, corruption, and the Pre-Marks. He was probably more than half crazy. But he had managed to get a hold of information that she had never seen before, and he seemed honest enough. “Why are you doing this? I can’t pay you anything.”

Noble looked at her. “I have a duty to give back to this city,” he said.

Sounds very noble, she thought, but I’ll be damned if anyone in this city acts solely out of the kindness of their own heart. I can’t really afford to take chances, though. “Alright, Mr. Shield,” she said, “I’m prepared to give you a chance.”

“Yes!” the stallion said, pumping his hoof. “I mean… here’s my card.” He pulled a business card out of his jacket and gave it to her.

Noble Shield

Private Eye

1001 Crystalline Corner,

Hub City, DE, 43045

“Come to that address tomorrow at 10 am. I’ll have your file ready. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some private eyeing to do.”

“Pervert,” Tap muttered.

“Not like that! I, ugh.” The stallion rolled his eyes. “See you tomorrow, ma’am.” He left the barstool and walked out the door. Amber watched him leave. Funny, she seemed to be forgetting something…

“You gonna pay for his drinks?” Tap asked, pointing at the untouched martini.

Oh. No.

The next day found Amber standing in a strange part of town, looking at an apartment complex with a dubious expression. This couldn’t be the place.

She checked the address on the card.

She checked the address on the building.

She checked the address on the card again.

Damn.

Sighing, she tucked the card into her jacket pocket and walked into the lobby. The very, very opulent lobby. The floors were tiled in marble. Gilded chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Speakers pumped the soothing sounds of a string quartet. A stallion with an outlandish moustache manned the reception desk, reading a magazine. Amber walked up and coughed.

“Ahem.”

The stallion didn’t look up. Amber waited a moment longer.

“Ahem.”

Nothing.

Amber was about to cough a third time when her eyes caught sight of a sign on the desk. “’Please ring bell to…’ oh!” She reached out a hoof and rang the small bell.

With a look of infinite patience, the stallion glanced up. “Can I help you… ma’am?” he asked, eyebrow raised at the state of her clothes.

Amber felt a hot blush rise on her cheeks. She patted the frayed edges of her coat.

“I… um, yes hello. My name is Ambrosia Sterling. I’m here to see Noble Shield.”

“I see,” said the stallion, looking like he had just sucked a lemon. “I’m afraid Mr. Shield is out for the moment. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Amber cocked her head. “Is that so? We had an appointment scheduled for today at ten. That’s now.”

“I’m afraid that no mention of such an appointment was made with the front desk, ma’am.”

“What are you, his butler?”

“I am whatever Mr. Shield needs me to be, including his scheduler.”

Amber narrowed her eyes. “Well, maybe he didn’t mention this one to you.”

The butler’s eyes hardened. “He never neglects to mention something to me.”

“Well, can you tell him I called?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Really? They not teach you to write like the rest of us?”

“Ma’am!” The butler’s eyes flashed. “I will not have you sling insults in my lobby. I am sorry, but Mr. Shield is simply not available. Thank you for coming by.”

There was a tense moment. Amber stared at the butler. The butler stared at Amber. She felt the creep of doubt chill her mind. What if he was right? What if it had all been some sort of joke? What if—

The intercom crackled and Noble’s voice blared into the room. “Hey Pennyfeather! You got my last shopping list? I’m plum out of nacho cheese.”

There was silence, and then Amber’s eyes slowly slid from the intercom to Pennyfeather’s face. The stallion, eyes fixed on Amber, pressed a hoof to the call button and said, “Certainly, sir. I’ll have one of the aides go out shopping later today.”

“Good. Also, by the way, if a lady comes to the door and asks to see me, send her up, okay? It’s about the detective thing. Sorry I forgot to mention it earlier.”

Pennyfeather’s expression could have been set in stone. “Certainly sir,” he said, sounding as if he were chewing tacks, “She’s just arrived. I’ll send her up in a moment.”

“Thanks, Pen. You’re the best.”

“I try, sir.”

The intercom crackled off. To his credit, Pennyfeather did not look away. “Top floor,” he said, grinding the words between his teeth. “It’s the penthouse. I’ll buzz you in.”

“Why, thank you, sir. Such nobility!” Amber gushed, a grin that would not be out of place on a puma across her face. “My good friend Noble is so lucky to have someone like you. Keep up the good work, dear!” With that, she trotted into the elevator, flicking her mane over her shoulder. She kept a straight face until the doors closed. The she collapsed into a fit of giggles.

“That stallion! He was… oh!”

By the time she reached the penthouse, Amber had managed to compose herself. She stepped out of the elevator, grin mostly wiped off. The penthouse was just as opulent as the rest of the building, with plush couches and a full sunroof in the patio. She looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Noble. “Hello?” she called.

“Yes, yes, in here!” the voice called back, and she followed into a side room. It was a study, of sorts. Pictures were arrayed all along the walls, pieces of string tacked to them, creating a vast web of connections and theories. Sitting behind a desk at the far wall sat Noble Shield. His fedora and coat were off, but he still wore a full suit.

“Hello, Miss Sterling,” he said, gesturing to a chair by the desk. “Please sit.”

Amber walked across the room and sat down. Noble reached under the desk and pulled out a bottle of Mac Daniel’s. “Drink?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” she said. “You said you had more evidence to show me?”

“Right to business, then,” he said, pouring himself a drink.

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, my sister is missing.”

“I’m aware. Here, take a look at this,” he said, pulling a file out of a drawer. Amber opened it. Three photographs sat on top of a pile of papers. She picked one up. It was a mug shot of a very familiar stallion.

“These are the kidnappers,” she said, looking at them. The three of them glowered out of the page. “But the police said they couldn’t find any records.”

“That’s because they don’t know where to look,” Noble said, his chest puffing out. “It wasn’t really their fault, though. These records had been wiped.”

“Wiped? By who?”

Noble shrugged. “I don’t know, but they did a pretty good job. I actually had to go to the prison myself and talk to the guards who knew these three. There were no other records. These were in a file that had, purely by chance, been misplaced.

“Who are they?”

“Blackjack, Angle, and Card,” he said, pointing them all out.

“What kind of names are those?”

“Yeah, well,” Noble said, his lips pursed. “They were Murgese.”

There was silence. “Bullshit,” Amber said.

“You think I would joke about this?” Noble said. “Look.” He pointed to one of the pictures. “See the tattoo on his flank?” Amber looked. Sure enough, all three she could see a shape tattooed on the stallion’s hip. It was some sort of geometric shape.

“That’s their symbol,” Noble said. “Trust me, I’ve seen it often enough.”

“They could have gotten someone else to do it.”

“No.” Noble shook his head. “The Murgese Family puts their tattoos on differently. It’s a guarded secret, and as far as we know it’s impossible to replicate.”

“Well, that still doesn’t change the fact that there is no way the Murgese sent these stallions after my sister.”

“Why not?” Noble asked.

“Because we’re nobodies!” Amber shouted. “I moved here five months ago and have done nothing but work that whole time. And Aria, she’s just a filly! We’ve done nothing to make them notice us.”

Noble sighed and pulled out a small spiral notebook. He flipped to the first page. “No loans from shady characters?” he asked.

Amber rolled her eyes. “No.”

Noble checked off a box. “No protection fees you forgot to pay?”

“No.”

“No drugs?”

“No!”

“No, ah, services rendered?”

“What do you… oh, you brute!” she raised a hoof and he backed off.

“Sorry, sorry! I just got to make sure, you know?”

“Insinuating something like that to a lady. I ought to have you charged.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. It was bad. But there has to be an explanation why the Murgese would send three hitponies to abduct your sister.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Noble,” Amber said. “There’s no reason, because it’s not possible. Maybe they defected. Maybe someone figured out a way to synthesize the tattoo. Maybe it’s something else. But what you’re suggesting…”

“Hmm,” Noble said, scratching his chin. “Well, we’re stymied there for now. We’ll have to come back, then. Anyway, that’s not even the most important piece I’ve got. Aria isn’t alone.”

Amber looked up.  “What do you mean?”

“She’s not the first filly kidnapped this way.”

“She’s not? But the police said—“

“The police don’t believe that there’s any connection, but again, they’re morons. Look.” He slid a few papers out of the file and pulled out another photo. It showed a young filly, about Aria’s age, with a bright red mane and a huge bow. Amber thought it a tad ostentatious. “This is Honeycrisp,” Noble said. “She was abducted last week. Vanished on her way home from school. Her sister found a note saying she was running away in her room, and since there’s no evidence of foul play, the police bought it.”

“And you disagree?”

“Reports of a trio of stallions matching your goons turned up the day before. They purchased a dinner in a café in the nearby town. Paid with cash. The waiter only remembers them because they didn’t pay a tip.”

“You sure it’s the same ponies?” Amber asked.

“No,” Noble said, “but I’d bet money on it. It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore. The police don’t agree, but they don’t have these mug shots.”

“So what do we do?” Amber asked, looking at the stallion across from her. He looked determined, the steel in his eyes in contrast to his goofy, anachronistic outfit. He caught her eye and grinned.

“I say we take a trip out to the country.”