Tropical Sorrowsby MicroshazmChapters1. French Connection2. Dina Colada3. Techno Thunder4. Soda Pop Culture1. French Connection1. French Connection ~ I hate travelling and explorers. The many streets of Jakarta were always bustling and busy, but never chaotic. There was always a certain calmness in the middle of all the trading and bartering – daily life, that is. It seemed like during late morning, when the Sun has just begun scorching the skins of the less-prepared, Jakarta manages to attain a unique atmosphere; something that the modern world has smothered with all of its brilliant inventions and applications. Claude couldn't care less. He was busy waiting for his customers, also known as napping. The rather small man blended well into the scene. He sat on a small stool, leaned against his tall scrapmetal fence, his face hidden under a light tan fedora. To many passers-by he was more a sculpture than a living being. The approaching group of six ponies were no exception. ”Lavion de tro– somethin', I guess we're finally in the right place,” said Applejack, a bright orange earth pony with a hat quite similar to Claude's. ”Phew, it took us a while to get here. This city is one big maze,” said the light purple unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, while magically holding a city map in front of her. ”We would've made good time if Rainbow Dash showed off a little less,” Applejack retorted. ”Hey, it's not my fault these people haven't seen a real flier before!” The light blue pegasus flew in front of the pack and pointed a hoof towards a small but enthusiastic crowd of people cheering for Rainbow Dash – each in their own language and dialect. ”It's my duty to show off a little.” “These people haven’t just not-seen a flier. I don’t think they’ve seen any live pony, at all! We’re celebrities!” said Pinkie Pie, a bright pink earth pony, while bouncing around the scene – also getting a share of admirers. “I call horseapples! This is a capital city for heaven’s sakes.” But Pinkie Pie wasn’t listening to Applejack, or anypony else, for she was busy with people wanting to pose in a picture with her. ”Just ease up everypony. We are here now, aren't we,” said Rarity, another unicorn with a pure white coat, wearing a purple sunbonnet that went nicely with her mane. ”We didn't get lost and the Sun is shining, no need to make such a scene about it. Applejack, this is the right place. L'avion de tropiques – aeroplane of the tropics! Ah, reminds me of Paris!” ”You've never told me you went to Paris,” said a timid voice, barely audible to the untrained ear. It belonged to Fluttershy, a light yellow pegasus, whose long, pink mane seemed to always cover at least half of her expression. “I haven’t? Oh, it was absolutely magnifique!It was me, Shimmer Stardust, Merigold and that fabulous Arman, who showed us around. He was waiting for us at Charles de Gaulle...” The other four’s pupils shrunk into pinpricks. Twilight’s quick thinking was the first to attain results: “Hold on there, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for you two to catch up.” “But we must press on, you’re right, Twilight,” added Rarity, prompting a silent sigh of relief, “then, where is our link, our contact, our guide?” “Ooh, I know, it’s him right here!” Pinkie Pie hopped next to the statuesque Claude and popped his hat from his head. His eyes shot open the moment the shadow cast by the fedora left his face. Claude had gentle features over his thin figure. He had brown, ambiguous eyes, a short but sharp nose, and his chin was clean-shaven. His short hair was only a tad darker than his almost pale white skin which gave Claude a spectral appearance in the sunlight. The flat wisp of hair on his forehead only emphasized an already distinctive widow’s peak. He sprung up and caught the hat by the rim before it touched the ground. After brushing off the few specks of dust, Claude put the fedora back on and raised his annoyed face. He stood in front of the ponies, wearing a bleach white tank top and a pair of tan plus fours along with his hat. “Calme-toi, madame. Si tu sépares un homme de son chapeau, ça peut te coûter un doigt.” Claude spoke with a cultured Parisien accent, indicating he had grown up in an educated household. Claude veered his gaze from Pinkie’s face to her hooves. “Ou quelque chose de même valeur.” “You do not threaten any of my friends like that, monsieur!” While the others could nothing but stand and watch, Rarity was most aware of the situation. “But I’m willing to give you another chance, pour t’excuser, bien sûr.” To further impress the Frenchman, Rarity lightly brushed the tip of her elegant purple mane with her foreleg, as if it wasn’t beautiful already. Claude’s expression softened – he even briefly smiled at Rarity’s performance. “Pardonnez-moi, madames. But I ‘ave a very important meeting soon. Alors, go away.” He sat down in his stool, but his eyes were still onto the ponies. The ponies, with the exception of Fluttershy, who flinched enough to jump half a metre upwards, were unfazed by Claude’s new use of language – and the strong accent. Though he didn’t look the slightest bit threatening, Fluttershy was eager to follow his order as quickly as possible. “Hold on Fluttershy, we’re not going anywhere yet,” said Twilight firmly and stood up closer to Claude, “So, are you, or are you not Claude Strauss?” “Ouais, c’est moi,” he answered without showing his obvious surprise, “mais, as I said, I’m busy.” “It says right here, that a certain ‘Claude Strauss’ would accompany the six of us to the Papuan Highlands.” Twilight was levitating a sheet of paper in front of Claude, who snatched it. While it usually was hard to distinguish the continental in Claude, the six ponies had the best available seats for this particular showing. Whereas the tropics communicate with form and feel, Claude expressed an explicit demonstration of colour: a quick turn to bleach white which was soon followed by a deep, blushing red. “LES CONNARDS! C’est vous, les ambassadeurs!? Non, c’est pas possible! C’est faux! C’est une blague!” Claude stood up, eyes digging into the paper again, but his tantrum remained. “Merde! Ces connards me trompent!” “Ne pleure pas, monsieur.” Rarity managed to get her soothing words through the noise coming from Claude, as well as all the random things he was kicking around. But he stopped instantly after hearing the words and quickly turned his back at the ponies. “Que!? I’m– I’m not crying!” Claude turned around but kept half of his face hidden under his hat. “Une petite surprise, c’est tout. I was expecting the real ambassadeurs. The men, who shoot their enemies’ ‘eads off with miniguns, and after that, cut off their testicles avec les épées des samouraïs!” “Cut off their testicles! Is this guy insane?” Claude gave no reaction to Rainbow Dash’s remark, but Applejack answered for him: “I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout that, Dash. ‘Cause I wanna know why’s he expectin’ these testicle-cutters instead of us.” Claude picked up on the comment and turned to Applejack, revealing his beetroot face in the process. “Do you know what’s in Papouasie? Does even one of you know where we’re going?” “Jungle, extinct volcanoes, very few people...” Twilight listed. “And paradise birds, tree-kangaroos, and lots of different butterflies,” Fluttershy chimed in, the familiar subject encouraging her. “...and apparently a certain scientist lost in the middle of it all.” Twilight’s conclusion curved the Frenchman’s mouth to a faint smile. “Avec ça, on peut commencer. But there’s still a lot you must now. Alors, venez.” Claude turned to face his fence and yelled over to the other side: “Ouvre! Nous avons des visiteurs!” The group entered Claude’s yard, a scrapyard with a low, sand-coloured hangar standing in the middle amidst piles of thrashed metal. Claude led them to it and inside his office. A young Jakartan boy with a cyan t-shirt accompanied him, and they had a brief but lively discussion – Claude speaking French and the boy Indonesian. After introductions in the scantily-furnished office, Claude drew out his mobile-phone and turned on its laser projector. The image shown on the wall was that of a young woman. She had smooth, fallow brown hair that just didn’t touch her shoulders, blue, round eyes and thin eyebrows. Her whole face was somewhat narrow, but most of her features were soft. “La scientifique, Emma ‘Emsy, she’s a sociologist from Toronto. I took this photo a year ago, when I took ‘er there for the first time. She came back on ‘er own.” Claude changed the picture; it was Ms. Hemsy again but from a different perspective. The next one had Hemsy wearing Claude’s fedora. “Looks like Claude has a crush on somepony,” said Pinkie Pie around the twentieth Hemsy-themed picture. “Ah, tais-toi...” Claude began rifling through the pictures fast enough for the ponies to lose track. He settled on a different photograph: a light pink unicorn with a curly mane about the same colour as the purple in Twilight’s coat. The blue in its eyes was a straight giveaway. “This is Madame ‘Emsy two months ago, when I took ‘er back. She ‘ad got converted in Toronto.” The slide show ended. “I only have one photo of ‘er like that. Elle était très pressée. She wanted to go immédiatement. I tried asking why, mais, she was secretive. Also, she ‘ad changed considérablement, it was confusing,” Claude said with his eyes looking out of one of the tiny windows the office had to offer. “And we’re off to rescue her, is that it?” Rainbow Dash’s voice held a certain anxiousness due to the group being crammed indoors, but it also hinted of a heart for adventure. “Oui, c’est votre mission! I’m only ‘ere to accompany. ‘Ow come you know so little of this? I would not even do this, if it was not for Madame ‘Emsy. Et j’ai signé le contrait avec mon sang, mais, c’est pas important.” “We trust that Princess Celestia has made the right decision sending us here for this task,” said Twilight in an official tone, “and to be honest, we can deal with a lot of situations, even dangerous ones.” Claude sighed and splayed his arms at the ponies. “Bien alors, follow me. Let’s go meet Dina.” He walked the few steps to the room’s back door, opened it, and they entered the hangar. There was one craft in front of them, but since Claude was the only pilot, that was all they needed. The vanilla-coloured craft had “Dina” spelled on its side. It was in good condition, sleek and shiny, even in the shade of the hangar. Its design was another marvel in itself; Dina was both a jet plane and a helicopter. The blades would fold back and function as wings, allowing the dual-jet engine underneath to take over and carry the craft to higher speed and altitude. “Magnifique, n’est-ce pas? The absolute coolest avion around,” declared the Frenchman. “Très magnifique. So elegant, so smooth.” Rarity whooped, getting odd looks from her friends. Such enthusiasm over an aircraft was uncommon for Rarity, especially when most of her recent letters and other messages suggested the opposite: steadily growing apathy. “But is it fast?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Ouais, c’est la haute-technologie. Très rapide. It carries eight people, mais we will not bring any extras because Kakara, le garçon, ‘as to take Dina back ‘ere. And we can’t bring any tools or equipment, seulement les nécessités. Les tribus ‘ave their beliefs and they will not let us mingle.” “The tribes? What’s their incentive in this?” It was Twilight’s turn to ask. Though being the most educated of the bunch, it was an elementary question to Claude. “Fifteen years ago, a company called Pan American Corporation invaded Papuasie but not with weapons, it was technology. For a month, they flew avions all over the mountains, dropping brown boxes partout la jungle. They changed le milieu forever. C’est pourquoi Madame ‘Emsy était allée là.” As Claude went silent, a surprising source took his place, it was Fluttershy. “The techno tribes,” she said silently but firmly enough to be heard well. The group turned towards her – each of them had their brows arched in a similar, incredulous manner. Fluttershy took the hint: “I just happened to... in that Bureau in Bangkok. I heard an old professor talking to another man about...” She turned her gaze up at the ceiling and threw an awkward smile. “The strangest pieces of– that one could hope to find. There were others, but he mentioned the Papuan techno tribes to be the most... disturbing.” Claude gave Fluttershy a lazy applause. “Could not describe them better myself.” “So we’ll just have to meet ‘em,” said Applejack, summing up everypony’s thoughts, though the thirst for more information was hard to keep in control – especially for Twilight, whose expression had changed to a deep frown. She was starting to worry. “Ouais. Prepare yourselves to leave.” 2. Dina Colada2. Dina Colada ~ You will be offered everything, promised everything; people will lay claim to every kind of skill, while knowing nothing. Dina taxied out into the glaring sunlight that shone through the layers of smog and dust, making the shadows irregular and shapeless. People outside the yard gathered around it every time somebody noticed the sound of turning rotors. The plane-helicopter hybrid ascended steadily up in the air. Claude was in the cockpit, with Kakara next to him as his co-pilot, and in the cabin – behind a soundproof door – the six ponies took the rest of Dina’s red cup seats. “Est-ce que vous êtes prêtes?” The loudspeaker in the cabin carried Claude’s speech from the front. “For whatever troubles that lie ahead of us, we are ready, monsieur,” yelled Rarity, already being the established link between the other ponies and the indifferent Frenchman. “Vous êtes prêtes...” Claude mumbled back and pulled the accelerator switch, sending Dina soaring away. The flight got boring fast. Claude wasn’t much of a music enthusiast, so he just tuned the radio into whichever channel that didn’t irritate him. The ponies, however, were offered a whole another form of entertainment: Kakara was with them in the cabin, telling the thrilling tale of his ten-year-old life. Claude had dimmed the windows and was about to fall asleep, when the cabin door slid open, and Applejack carefully made her way to the co-pilot’s seat. She pondered a while for a decent ice breaker. “I can’t speak Indonesian. Uh... Nice hat.” “Merci, madame,” said Claude and tilted back his fedora to reveal his rather droopy face. There were more important things than sleeping right now, and he didn’t hesitate to speak with the first thought popping up in his mind. “What do you do for a living, Applejack?” “I have an apple orchard. I work over there, or at least I used to. Been travellin’ so much with the Bureaus an’ all.” There was some regret in her voice, but Claude couldn’t notice. After all, the first Conversion Bureau opened almost a decade ago. “J’ai voyagé un peu aussi. Milles des kilomètres, quelques-uns par la voiture, beaucoup plus par les avions différents. Et avec Dina, huit cent quatre-vingt-dix-huit milles et neuf, mais, il augmente à chaque moment.” Applejack rolled her eyes and murmured something back, but this time in Equestrian. It was surprising how little the ponies had actually spoken their native language, as this was the first time Claude could clearly make out its otherworldly appearance. It wasn’t Malayan, certainly not European; to Claude, it was different, and most things weren’t. “D’accord, on parle anglais. ‘Ave you been to anywhere worth your while?” “Yeah, too many to count. The last place I really liked, I think it was Florence.” “Florence!” The simple idea of an apple farmer appreciating one of the most beautiful cities on Earth was enough to shoot Claude’s eyes wide open. “It’s a beauty. The churches, the piazzas, and the palazzos.” “I kinda liked the people there,” Applejack said, continuing as if Claude hadn’t said anything in between. “L’Italiens... You don’t go to Florence to see the people, you go and see la Renaissance.” Applejack put up a cutesy smile. “Nah, I didn’t. Don’t really fancy paintin’” Applejack was barely able to finish her sentence before Claude slammed his hands into the dashboard. “Take the wheel, madame,” he said and stormed out from the cockpit. “...tell me more about the rafters!” Pinkie Pie cheered to Kakara, who was standing in the middle of the cabin and miming some kind of a boat trip, all the while giving amped comments at incredible speed. “They’re not rafters? I love guessing games! The canoers? The fishermen? The hunters? The zookeepers...” Out of the blue, a very angry Frenchman burst in and leaped on the empty seat left by Applejack. “Kakara, arrête pour un moment.” The boy interrupted his show, though not without objections from Pinkie, who was clearly enjoying the vivid mental imagery. “Les poneys, écoutez– listen to me carefully. You are Equestrian, you speak Equestrian, and you ‘ave learned English.” The ponies nodded at each statement. Claude was deep red but retained a steady composure – out of self-respect as well as the fact that they were 11 kilometres up from the ground. He continued: “This is l’Indonésie, but you don’t speak Indonesién – another bunch of unsure nods – expliquez ça! Madame Applejack grows apples! No princess in ‘er right mind would send apple farmers to Papouasie. I’m much more experienced than you six combined, et je ne suis que le pilote.” There was a brief moment of silence with the ponies staring at Claude, who was making rabid gestures and faces, the meanings of which eluding the ponies by a wide margin. “Applejack hasn’t been a farmer for ten years, neither has Rarity been a tailor, or me a librarian.” Twilight broke the silence with tremendous determination in her voice: she had, during the enigmatic show set up by Kakara, been able to turn her fear of setting her hooves into unknown and possibly dangerous territory into a new thirst for knowledge and understanding. Even though she’d never wanted to, Twilight’s position, not just as an Equestrian, but as a famous Equestrian had sheltered her from some of Earth’s intricacies. This would be a hooves-on experience on something mostly new. “But I know we still bear the Elements of Harmony. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but it’s the most powerful magic known in Equestria. I know magic hasn’t left me, honesty hasn’t left Applejack, or laughter hasn’t left Pinkie Pie, even though we haven’t been to our homes for awhile.” Claude stared at Twilight over the back of his seat. He then looked at the other ponies if they had anything to add. “Right on, Twi!” Rainbow Dash yelled from the very back, where she and Fluttershy had gone to escape the on-board entertainment. “And your element is?” Claude snapped the question at Rainbow Dash. “Loyalty,” she answered, greatly emphasizing the individual syllables. “Très bien,” Claude said and clapped once, “so is mine, alors, I won’t throw you off the avion. Am I loyal, or what?” “Pardon m-monsieur,” Rarity said with notable shiver in her voice, “but shouldn’t you be flying cet avion?” Claude managed to raise an eyebrow at Rarity before he noticed: Dina wasn’t as level as it should’ve been. He took a quick glance at Kakara, who had already buckled himself up to a seat and was now reciting prayers. Applejack was sitting in the pilot’s seat with both forelegs on the controls. She was frustrated and extremely tense all over, sweating and trembling from the effort to fly a device much more complicated than any machine Applejack had operated before. The altitude meter that was counting down quite rapidly didn’t add much comfort to the mix. “Comment est-ce possible, Madame Applejack!? You turned off le pilote automatique!” “Ya told me to fly the plane. I couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.” The tone of Applejack’s voice, much like the earth pony herself, indeed represented honesty in its purest. Claude knew she couldn’t have overheard the exchange in the back, but seeing a down-to-earth farmer been dragged into such a taxing position he almost felt sorry as well. Nothing in the mysterious contract had implied an easy trip, so if it was rough for him, it would be rough for the ponies, and there was no reason to deliberately make it any rougher. Claude was quick to undo Applejack’s errors. “Ah, don’t worry. Ça marche, ça marche bien.” Claude looked at Applejack, his expression – through the prevalent red – was now gentle. “‘Ow about we fly this thing a little? Give them a real reason to be scared.” “I dunno if we should. Stunt flyin’ ain’t something I’ve done too much.” “Ah, tais-toi.” With that Claude pushed Dina into a steep downward spiral. He knew what kind of handling the plane could take and so did its computer, which would’ve automatically interfered with stunts endangering Dina’s integrity. Claude let the spiral go on for several seconds. Then he pressed the button for autopilot. The computer took control of the craft; it leveled violently but still not even touching its limits. “Woah Claude, you’re crazy! I just hope they were all buckled up back there.” “Madame Applejack, tonight we are scraping pony meat off the windows.” Applejack didn’t laugh but Claude did, ever so zestfully. Including Claude’s little diversion, it took approximately six hours to reach Papua, much like the previous two times Claude had flown the route. Kakara would’ve still had stories to tell, but their impending descent didn’t let him continue. Dina slowed down and once more changed to a helicopter as the jets shut down and the blades unfolded. Rarity was accompanying Claude in the cockpit. After Applejack had mentioned visiting Florence, Rarity had been dying for more information, which Claude was happy to offer since this time the topics went – if not perfectly – much better with his interests. “Il faut que nous continue plus tard, madame. Nous allons arriver bientôt.” Claude pushed a button and the windows became crystal clear again. In the distance there was a mountain range with a single summit rising steep above the rest. While everything else in their field of vision was lush, green forests, the peak featured shades of yellow, brown, and even black. “Darling, as much as I’m appreciating the view, it must not be a treetop where we’re landing, absolument pas.” Rarity gazed nervously below, trying to find openings, or even better, clues of civilized life. Rarity still tried to keep an elegant posture, she held her head straight and a hoof by her chin as if she was evaluating the situation from a more superior position than she actually had. Claude answered Rarity’s unspoken question: “N’oublie pas, madame Rarity, c’est pas la première fois quand je suis là. Ils vont nous contacter.” “Oh, I just love the way you pronounce my name. Rarity, Rarity... It’s jagged and rocailleux, but it’s beautiful.” Claude facepalmed, for it was all he could do at this point, for he could guess the reason for Rarity’s oddity. Paris, with its blackened buildings, had struck her as being dirty. Along with the disillusion, came Arman – a great tailor on his own that made Rarity both miss and frown upon her modest business back in Ponyville – to infect Rarity with the poetic bug, one serious pest of the modern society. Now, she could sprout different vines of creativity at every possible moment. People often find the vines extremely clingy. To Claude, Rarity was doomed beyond salvation. A second after he was done shaking his head, the necessary information appeared on the computer display. “Fasten your seat belts, we are landing,” Claude said with the cabin door slid open so everyone could hear. “Good that you’re giving the heads up this time,” Twilight snarked back. Before the others could chime in, Claude had already shut the door. There was a few minutes of gentle descent, when the craft abruptly tilted to the left, and a moment later back to the right. Claude glanced at the computer display and then outside. Blood began flowing into his face once again. “Merde, ils ont construit quelque chose de nouveau... et il est grand.” Rarity noticed Claude’s expression and frowned. “Hmph. We’re all creative beings, darling, we must dream big, think big, and sometimes even build big. There must be a reason why you are being so hard on these, tribes, as you call them. Si j’étais toi, I– Why is le pilote automatique switched on?” Claude turned at the autopilot button with a twisted look on his face and pushed it, but nothing happened, it stayed lit. He immediately began smashing the button with his fist and cursing its missing functionality. “C’est aussi une antenne!” “So this is not something you did the last time you were here?” “Non! Certainement pas! Look outside, Rarity, it’s not meflying the avion, je suis sûr c’est la construction là-bas!” Rarity did as asked, and she gasped: below them, covering the treetops, there was a huge net, an almost transparent, but definitely solid, construct that reflected the forest around it, hence it was hard to spot. The holes in it were big but still way too small for even a rather modest aircraft like Dina to pass through. Taking their velocity into consideration, the group wasn’t landing on it, they were crashing into it. The craft took a hit, but it wasn’t the crushing end to life that Claude, Rarity, and the rest were expecting. Dina only rocked back and forth a few times before it leveled and began descending slowly in a straight, vertical course. Every now and then, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the craft’s interiors with smaller sparks randomly erupting everywhere in the net. When they were about to touch the net itself, it moved away from them, the hexagon pattern breaking its regular form and opening a hole big enough for the whole aircraft. Some people could be seen milling about below. The moment they reached the opening, all of Dina’s electronics turned themselves off. With every vector pointing straight downward, it sure wasn’t the safest thing to shut down the rotor with 25 metres still between the craft and the ground. The color on Claude’s face changed accordingly. “Ils vont nous tuer.” 3. Techno Thunder3. Techno Thunder ~ It was a society remarkably adverse to feelings that we consider as being natural. Sounds of composite cables attaching themselves to Dina’s hull protruded through all the gasping and screaming that was taking place inside. While the rest were too worried of their fate to think about much else, Claude was already having nightmares considering Dina’s next repair bill, the paint job alone wasn’t a cheap fix. The craft had only taken a few metres of freefall before the black cables had caught it, and it was now in steady descent with all electronics still offline. Claude did a quick check on the passengers: Twilight and Fluttershy were both shaking, whereas Rarity had taken refuge in fainting; Applejack was looking casual, as if she’d been expecting the ruckus; Pinkie Pie was certainly surprised but showed no signs of fear or worry; Rainbow Dash was demonstrating symptoms of claustrophobia, trying almost desperately to open the door – firmly stuck in place by the cables – and exit the craft. Then there was Kakara holding Rarity’s precious sunbonnet, which had been rendered unusable by some unfortunate mishap in the middle of things. “On a des chapeaus, gar. Nous allons trouver un nouveau, peut-être.” It was never tough to make the kid smile after such an incident, and Claude knew that. When Claude settled in Jakarta, Kakara was practically there waiting for him, the first to offer his aid in all the trivial, albeit very much necessary, things. Claude was glad to have the boy around, himself having been a lone wolf type for a good part of his life, it was the most stable relationship he’d ever had with a real person, excluding close relatives. Kakara didn’t seem too unhappy himself, even if the pairing was comically eccentric. Little by little, as the craft slowly neared the ground, their eyes got used to the evening Sun’s dim rays. Despite the cleared landing spot, the scenery was dominated by trees of varying sizes, which would emphasize the upcoming darkness. Claude cleared Rainbow Dash away from the exit, telling her to wake up Rarity so that they all could step outside, when the cables would let go. All around the craft was filled by the forest, all but a single stuccoed block approximately three by three by three metres in size. A small, lit window indicated it housed something, but one couldn’t see what was inside. The humid air dripped of ozone created by the net structure that was practically invisible now that it wasn’t active. Upon disembarking, the group was greeted by two solemn figures, the sight of which had little effect on the ponies, who were focused on having solid earth beneath their hooves. The two dark-skinned men were dressed in long, dark blue felt coats that resembled uniforms used in many naval units around the globe. They both held ceremonial spears with shafts made of wood, and the heads were like opened jackknives welded into a metal gear the size of a large fist. They also wore helmets which bore strong resemblance to the kitchen colanders one might use in one’s home. The only difference in their turnout were the ornamental patterns in their spears made of the white and yellow tail feathers of the lesser bird-of-paradise – one had more yellow in his than the other. “Meeka sieltae tou lé?” the yellow one began, hiding his anxiety, while the other leaned a little to take a look behind Claude. The yellow one quickly noticed his comrade’s jaw dropping, but it didn’t take long for him to join in, as six pastel colored ponies exited the craft one by one, behaving oddly and speaking a language he couldn’t understand. “Sieltae tou lé maalee! Ti vas varyele!” The duo turned around and sprinted towards the small, cube-shaped building. “Attendez! Arrêtez!” Claude’s cries were in vain, the men didn’t even slow down, and in a matter of seconds they were inside with the door shut and firmly locked. Claude didn’t chase after them, he just let out a bunch of swears and sat down on the doorstep of the aircraft. Rarity was plainly prancing around, happy that she was alive, while Applejack was kissing the ground with unmatched ardour. Fluttershy was busy oohing and aahing at the new environment as was Rainbow Dash, but for negative reasons since she didn’t dare to go flying in the dusk. Pinkie Pie had trotted over to the building and was knocking on its door. “Helloo-o? Why did you go inside? You looked like you were scared of us. You sillies, why would you be scared? We haven’t even met, and it’s not like we’re monsters or anything. I’m Pinkie Pie, I’m from Ponyville, and...” Twilight was the first to reattain normal behaviour. “Claude, what’s the matter?” “I’m not leaving Dina alone with the locals. Their village isn’t very far, you can go there. Je doit attendre un peu ici.” Claude pointed at a spot in the forest, where Twilight instantly spotted some tribesmen and -women, though they were remarkably different from the two greeters they’d just met. These ones looked normal, or as normal as one expects tribespeople to look like. All men wore a piece of cotton cloth around their waists that was held up by a belt of weaved straw, while the women wore simple, blond, cotton dresses. Their hairstyles were quite uniform as well: long hair tied to a type of topknot with strands of weeds or colourful feathers. Certainly more intriguing than their clothes were the colours in the men’s skins. Deep shades of blue and green in a chequerboard pattern that changed into complex ornaments from the neck up. The women bore nothing but their natural dark brown. There was one last thing Twilight noticed: every single one carried a knife of some kind in their belts. Many kinds of blades were present – all of them carefully sheathed; she could spot cleavers, bowie knives, small pocket knives – clearly a symbol of status for the tribespeople. “I’m not sure I want to go anywhere,” she said, “you know these people, Claude, you should come with us.” She briefly checked if the others had similar thoughts and picked up iffy murmuring about the knives from all of them. Turning back to Claude she saw the man was rolling his eyes. “Madame, I’m not your chasseur blanc. I’m a victim of circumstance, mais I want to find Madame ‘Emsy like you do. Alors, you ‘ave mysupport, n’est-ce pas?” Claude formed a makeshift megaphone around his mouth. “Klapi! C’est Claude! Viens-ici!” The spectating tribespeople repeated Claude’s call like a distorted echo. For a short while nothing happened, until an adolescent boy about fifteen years of age appeared from the bushes and walked up to Claude and the ponies. “Valcoyné py rou!” the boy shouted at Claude, who nodded back. The boy, Klapi, was dressed like the other men but wasn’t painted due to his young age. The knife in his belt looked more like a letter opener than a proper blade. “Ya, ya, ya, yx, k’ax, kous. Kestit koudel.” Klapi held up six fingers as he goggled at Claude, while slowly turning his face around that made his hairdo flip over from one side of his head to the other. Both men smiled, though Claude a bit more profoundly. “Oui, c’est parfait,” he answered. Klapi ran back to the edge of the clearing and yelled out something to make most of the other tribespeople leave, only two men and himself staying put. Claude watched as they took positions by the trail that led away into the dark forest. ”Ecoutez, les poneys! Pack your things, and Klapi will take you to the village. Who knows, maybe they 'old you a feast.” Claude barely had time to draw his mouth shut before Pinkie surprised him from behind the aircraft: ”Did you say feast! That's just super, I love feasting almost as much as I love partying!” ”That's jus' great, Pinkie,” Applejack chimed in, though she didn't share the fellow earthpony's enthusiasm, ”we jus' gotta remember not to get feasted on ourselves.” “Oh, how can you even think of such thing?” said Rarity, who was browsing through everypony’s saddle bags for her hat. Out of the six, Rainbow Dash was the only one without any equipment at all – though it was debatable whether items like cupcakes, birdseed, and a parasol could be considered equipment in the current locale. “Now, has anypony seen my sunbonnet? I’m positive I had it with me in the airplane.” The ponies milled about for a few more minutes, during which the sky got darker and darker as night fell, star- and moonlight being completely absorbed into a thick layer of clouds. Like the sky was weaving together a dress to prepare itself for a great spectacle; only to tear it apart in favor of the audience. Soon, it was bound to pour. It wasn’t hard to tell that Klapi and his comrades were anxious of the ponies. Even though they were cracking jokes and having seemingly light-hearted conversation, there was always at least one pair of eyes keeping firm watch on the ponies. “Now hold on a minute everypony!” Applejack yelled, when the others decided that everything was quite set to go. She turned back to the aircraft and shot an incredulous glare at Claude. ”I think I know what you’re plannin’. You’re gonna leave us as soon as we get outta your sight.” “Que!? I’m not leaving. Kakara flies Dina to Jakarta, not me.” “Kakara? But he’s just a lil’ kid!” Claude glanced at Kakara in the cockpit and chuckled a bit. “Chére Applejack, anyone can fly cet avion. I could teach a chicken to fly it. You are the exception.” For the second time that day, Applejack was unable to join the Frenchman’s merriment. But now they were finally ready to go. The triple shade of trees, clouds, and the horizon itself was enough to render eyesight rather trivial in the forest trail. The ponies could barely make out each other’s outlines, however, other observations could be made. It was apparent that some other path had been used to move about materials for the concrete cabin, the composite cable reels – they must have situated in the vicinity – and the net structure that had caught Dina, for this was too narrow, uneven, and twisting. Secondly, Klapi and the two companions, who introduced themselves as Noki and Savu, though curious especially about the pegasi, avoided actually touching the ponies by any means. Even when a particularly nasty tree root almost tripped Twilight, Noki and Savu just jumped away from her, letting her stumble on her own. In the other end of the little caravan, Klapi did the same, as he constantly made sure there was at least one diagonal step between him and Rainbow Dash’s back. With help from the infallible step of the tribesmen they cleared the distance in less than twenty minutes. The group arrived in a small plateau mostly clear, or cleared, of trees. The increase in light was most welcome, but its source was no campfires or torches, it was light-emitting diodes in the form of colorful party lights, which decorated the few tree trunks and huts. ”Brown boxes,” Twilight retorted as Rainbow shot a question concerning the lights. “Why PAC didn’t spare, say, normal streetlights is something I can’t fathom. At least not yet.” They had to wait for Klapi to run some errand before going any further into the village. They could spot a few round huts, which consisted of low walls made of pretty small log pillars that in turn supported longer but thinner pieces that connected in the middle and were covered with leaves from the local palm tree, smoke rising from the summit of the roof. All huts were built in this way, but some were smaller and some bigger than the other; for example, the hut towards which Klapi ran was very large, almost a dozen metres in diameter. Now with the improved lighting situation, Rainbow Dash got the courage to fly a small survey loop around the premises, which caused some shake-ups with Noki and Savu, who couldn’t close their mouths for a good while. As obvious as it was that the village had seen no pegasi before, was the relative lack of true boldness in Rainbow Dash. Houses were always tall, the air always had dangerous traffic, and the weather was always as unpredictable as a master player’s poker hand. Earth was never subtle about the mistakes of the pilot – or rather the one mistake that ends him. She longed for the good old days, when such worries were yet to present themselves. ”I saw more huts, another one of those concrete booths from where we landed, and someway towards the mountain there's a huge flat-roofed building with steam rising off it, and really, it's gigantic.” She landed softly in the middle of the others and folded her wings, which stirred further bemusement in the two men, who briefly mimed the folding motion with their arms. ”I didn't see any humans, though, but I think they've just gone away from the – CRACK-OOM! – rain.” The thunderbolt gave them a second head start before large drops of tropical rain filled the air, all ready to soak everything in their paths. The ponies hurried under the closest tree that looked like it could hold out some rain, though everyone still got a little wet. ”So could this place have something that could be almost considered as civilization? Or were some brown boxes just bigger than others?” said Rarity to nopony in particular as she dried herself with a towel from her saddle bags. ”Could they really do that?” Fluttershy asked. ”Like drop buildings out of planes? No, way,” Rainbow blurted back. Twilight nodded, adding that she wanted to go check out the big building, when it would be appropriate. ”Lesponeys!” This time it was Klapi talking French – or at least using a French word – though the pronunciation was quite close to Claude's. Noki and Savu called over the continuous thunder to guide the young man to the tree. After getting in their sight, Klapi gestured towards himself and yelled some more: ”Noupsah'n Lesponeys!” Klapi led everyone through the storm to the cover of the largest hut, the inside of which was lit by same bundles of party lights but also a large fire in the middle. Cupboards protruding from the walls gave the hut some sense of functionality. It seemed to be a place for gatherings, as the ponies faced maybe twenty more tribesmen, no women or children, most sitting in the ground with low, wooden tables in front of them, all curiously eyeballing the visitors and having keen discussion about them with their comrades. Klapi sat down behind a table and pointed at the empty space, no table or anything, next to him. “Munat tourpéséen,” he said, and the ponies took seats on the floor that looked like just trampled ground, but had some sort of coating that made it feel a bit like warm plastic. Pinkie Pie shook away the water from her coat, mane, and tail, and the few remaining flat hairs sprung immediately back to suit Pinkie's trademark style. ”Finally some action. I've been waiting for ever!” The others quickly found out the source for Pinkie Pie's excitement: a couple of men had taken two large aluminium bowls and trays from the cupboards, while a few others had unsheathed their blades and struck them hard into the wooden tables so that they stuck. ”I have a feeling there's a big number coming on soon.” The looks the other ponies told they weren't quite as positively excited as their pink friend. The men laid down the bowls and trays in front of another cupboard and opened it as well. They were clearly doing something but had their backs turned at the ponies. Faint bubbling sounds barely reached Twilight's ears – she was the only one with any notable interest that way. But before she could make any conclusions, the predicted ”big number” began, drowning the sounds. Someone started singing. It was the kind of tune everyone at first seems to recognize from a melody they've heard a million times before, only to be surprised as it turns out all different. Somebody else took it to accompany his comrade, but instead of singing along he pulled his cleaver from the table and started knocking the dull end against the wood, creating a beat of sorts. A third one joined in scratching together two cooking knives much like a celebrity chef does, when preparing for his next culinary challenge. The show went on; the tribesmen taking turns singing, playing their knives, and some even danced. Everything was so fluid, so natural that it couldn't have been a special occasion set up for the visitors – it was just the way of life in the Papuan Highlands. ”C-can you feel that?” Fluttershy called over the ritualistic merriment and thunder. ”Yeah, I think. There's... rumble,” added Applejack, ”but it could jus' be my stomach. I'm starvin'.” ”Even your stomach has enough decency not to be this savage, dear Applejack. This is something else.” Rarity's statement was backed up by the dust particles jumping up and down on the floor in front of them. The rumble grew stronger and stronger until all six ponies felt it clearly. ”Go easy, everypony. Klapi and everyone else are still acting the same, so it can't be anything upsetting.” Twilight's expression contradicted her words, which barely made herself feel any more secure. ”Maybe for them!” Rarity cried, ”but this tremor will give a new set of colours to my next yawn very soon, if you know what I mean.” The others promptly shifted further away from Rarity, Pinkie Pie being the exception as her mind was focused on the rumble's source that, supposedly, was located somewhere in the ground. Pinkie, ear firmly against the floor, raised a hoof to attract everypony's attention. “I know what it is! It’s a bassline, and it’s getting louder.” After a second or two the others were able to confirm Pinkie’s claim. The speakers were obviously somewhere underground. “Ooh, I wonder if there’ll be even more music.” When Fluttershy heard Pinkie’s words, her gaze grew wide, and she began murmuring to herself and staring blankly at the hut’s opposite end: “Please don’t be dubstep, please don’t be dubstep, please don’t be...” “Err... what’s she babblin’ about?” Applejack asked. She was getting a little annoyed of herself being in a constant state of ignorance. “Dubstep is an old type of riot control invented in London during some bad riots they had very long ago. The dubstep sounds are very effective against normal, thinking humans and ponies too, but they gave up using dubstep, when some poor Londoners mistook it for actual music.” Twilight concluded with a smug smile, proud that she’d googled the information the instant she’d heard about the term for the first time. “So, it’s sound meant to hurt, but people listen to it anyway? For fun?” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes before letting her gaze wander as far into the horizon as possible. “I’ll never understand these humans.” “Yep, and looks like our Fluttershy’s had the worst of it,” Twilight stated, while Fluttershy continued her monologue. “South London... Why did I go there... What has been heard cannot be unheard... Please don’t be dubstep...” Pinkie was sitting on the floor with her forelegs crossed and looking unlikely grim. “Hmph, haters...” The others paid little attention to her comment. 4. Soda Pop Culture4. Soda Pop Culture ~ The darkness through which we are groping is too thick for us to make any pronouncements about it; we cannot even say that it is doomed to last. The night never escalated; the rumbling bassline didn’t get much louder or more elaborate. But with the human aspects it was a completely different story, as the dancing, music, and singing went through many different phases and showed no signs of ceasing until sometime in the very early morning, when the temperature began to warm up from the steep drop that occurred right after the rain. Twilight made a note about this, but it didn’t help with their sleep-wake rhythms that now were terribly out of place. Claude should have informed them about this, she thought. Though they could sleep until noon like the tribe did, it still was quite the ordeal – a tribulation, one might say. The ponies eventually managed to get up, still a little tired and definitely hungry, for the “food” they’d been given last night hadn’t really been the feast they’d hoped for. “And the same thing for breakfast!?” Applejack cried and the others backed her up with disgruntled statements of their own. Their and the tribe’s lunchtime breakfast was served in the same metal bowls from earlier – and was chugged down with the same hard plastic straws. Orange soda. Rarity stared quietly into her bowl of the fizzling goodness, breathing rather heavily. It wasn’t much of surprise that she was taking the situation the worst. She had developed a ‘fine’ taste for cuisine over the past years. So, while the others were already sniffing out for edible plants, Rarity just went on with her staring competition against the orange puddle. Twilight nudged Pinkie Pie and pointed at Rarity. “Pinkie, the cupcakes in your saddlebags. I think this would be an excellent opportunity to ask Rarity’s opinion about them.” Pinkie tilted her head a little and lifted an eyebrow. “Really? That would get Rarity talking again. Didn’t you just say that the silent kinda Rarity is the best Rarity?” “Shh, Pinkie...” “Just kidding. I’ll go get her one right away!” Twilight sighed. Of course she hadn’t meant it that way, but Rarity had been a severe annoyance last night, complaining about every little detail and often with overdramatic claims of how bad some things were. It had just slipped out of Twilight’s lips after Rarity had fallen asleep – a minute before she had done the same. The ponies also got their first look on the women and children of the tribe. They had obviously been up for many hours already. The children followed their mothers as they went about with daily chores, gathering firewood and carrying water. Twilight noticed that only men were allowed to carry the aluminium bowls, as well as enter the largest hut. It also came clear that while the men did each other’s hairdos, the women dealt with the body painting. The painting process was another subject of wonder: the women had transparent, square sheets of extremely thin material which they latched onto the men’s bare skins. While it seemed to be for nothing at first, the covered skin quickly began to change colour. Dark red, blue, green, and black were the most common, but Twilight could spot brighter ones such as orange as well. Klapi interrupted Twilight’s musings with a loud holler from a dozen metres away, where he stood with both Noki and Savu. The two men were significantly darker than Klapi, though most of the skin was covered in a blue and red pattern. The ponies walked up to the tribesmen; Twilight leading the way. “Hey, Klapi and... guys,” Twilight began, “I was wondering if you could –” “No, Twilight! That’s not how you do it at all!” Pinkie Pie cut in and jumped between her and Klapi, “when you want to get the message across, you must forget all nonsense formalities” – she turned to look Klapi in the eyes – “We want visit big house. You take us ponies visit big house?” Twilight was stunned, but Klapi seemed to reach a conclusion of some kind judging by his rapid, almost shakelike nodding. “Lesponeys ha’lou haoutan,” Klapi told his companions and they began nodding too. He turned back to the ponies with a small smile on his lips. “Toullcka mouckan, Lesponeys.” Klapi gestured the ponies to follow the trio through the middle of the village, which made sure that absolutely everyone had a chance to see them in daylight. And just like in Jakarta, most eyes were glued onto Rainbow Dash who backstroked in the air. Their way to the forest trail went past the village’s concrete block. Twilight was sure she saw a head take a peek at them from the tiny window. The trail was a small one and pretty rarely used considering its semi-organic condition. A shortcut, or the tribesmen stayed away from the main routes on purpose, Twilight thought. A half hour trek in the uneven, though steadily rising terrain led the group to a clearing and only several metres away from a discrete entrance to the building. The wall they were facing was quite dull with its prefabricated concrete slabs coated with dark grey pigment. A single aluminium ventilation pipe adorned the corner on the left. Despite looking like it had been dropped out of the sky, the six-storey high building featured a concrete foundation. Klapi jogged to the door, pulling it open and first letting Noki and Savu in. Twilight had already taken the first steps toward the entrance when Fluttershy’s voice halted her: “Are you sure we all have to come in? It looks so – well, not scary but quite forbidding to be honest.” Twilight briefly frowned at her until changing to a more amicable expression. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! These people have been living in relatively unchanged conditions for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and it all changed just fifteen years ago when the corporation introduced them to modern technology. This place is like a small scale case study on all the new stuff Equestria has got from Earth! I’m positive Princess Celestia wouldn’t want us to walk away from a chance such as this.” Twilight felt a twinge of pride flowing into her. All the deductions she was making; finally something truly useful after all these years. “Now hold on a minute,” said Rainbow Dash, “weren’t we supposed to rescue a scientist, Emsy what’s-her-name-now, or something?” Twilight nodded. “Hemsy, yes, but the e-mail I got from Celestia wasn’t very big on the details, so–” “Twilight, darling, did I just hear you use the words ‘e-mail’ and ‘from Celestia’ in the same sentence?” Rarity glared harshly at Twilight, while the other ponies were unable to decide whether they should be enjoying the show or just plain worry. The moment felt like an eternity, but ultimately Twilight came to a realisation: “Oh, horseapples.” By then, however, Rarity had already taken the express train to coma. Klapi was polite enough to wait for Rarity to wake up, which gave Twilight some time to work out some sense into the situation, even though everything seemed to point at crazy at the moment. But something had to make sense! It certainly wasn’t impossible for the Princess to send her electronic mail; it was the first instance, sure, but Spike was currently shooting Son of the Dragon Warrior in the North Island of Aotearoa and therefore not available. The lost scientist was a real issue, the opportunity really was golden, and the pilot had been there waiting for... the ambassadors. Twilight closed her eyes and massaged her temples. This had to be shrugged off for now. No decisions could be made before they talked with Claude. A lump in her throat made her cough violently – if Claude would even be there anymore. “Y’alright, Twi?” asked a concerned voice. “Just fine, Applejack. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat for good and turned back to the others. “Fluttershy can stay outside if she wants to, but not alone.” Her quick scan found a raised blue hoof. “I volunteer. Not a fan of tight spaces,” Rainbow Dash stated and got an approving nod from Twilight. Pinkie Pie and Applejack were glad to join her, and to her surprise even Rarity gave an encouraging response, though it was a little creepy that she didn’t mention the e-mail thing upon waking up. “If this place is going to kill me, it might as well do it indoors.” A little macabre, but encouraging all the same. Twilight apologized to Klapi for making him wait, but the young man looked just as content as upon arrival ten minutes ago. The door opened to a huge hall filled with steel walkways, round pools of different liquids, and tribesmen which all bore the same blue-red pattern and thus were only distinguishable by their hairdos and the knives they carried. The ponies set off to follow Klapi around in the hall. “Apila,” Klapi said, pointing to another man with long, curly hair and a small cheese knife. He waved and yelled something back at Klapi, who just smiled and went on. “Tenava,” said Klapi, his hand towards a large, dark man with a machete. He also waved at Klapi. “Kohina, Sekava, Sikana, Himoja...” Everyone they met, everyone they saw; Klapi told them who it was and nothing more. By the size of the place it wasn’t too hard to guess if the list would reach astronomical lengths. But they still couldn’t just wander off to wherever, both in fear of ending up lost and accidentally agitating the tribesmen, who’d so far been nice to them. Twilight figured the knives had some other purpose than fighting, or even crafting or cooking. Nevertheless, after spotting a very nasty-looking bonesaw on a burly man, Vanukas, she didn’t want to lock it in just yet. “This place’s more borin’ than a salt mine,” Applejack muttered quietly. Despite crossing multiple platforms and walkways in several different floors, Klapi was still walking them around the same hall. “You’ve missed the really fancy ones,” said Pinkie Pie. “Salt mines can be fancy? That’d be a first.” “Don’t be so negative, AJ. You gotta try and find the silver lining more often.” Pinkie beamed at Applejack, who only managed a faint smile. Whether Pinkie was bored herself or not it didn’t show in her demeanour. Whatever happens, Pinkie’ll smile at ya, Applejack thought. How’s that for a silver lining? Rarity interrupted them, still abnormally pleased with the scenery as well as the activity: “Oh, Pinkie Pie and your love of dead things. You’re a rare gem in a mountain of dirt – she plumped up her mane a bit – oh wait, that was me. Yes, Rarity.” Rarity turned immediately back to Klapi’s presentation. Pinkie Pie found Applejack giving her a concerned look, pointing at Rarity. For once she didn’t smile; just shook her head and whispered: “Yep, Rarity’s not okay.” “...Vasara, Kanuuna, Nauha... ya Brandon.” Klapi stopped; he didn’t wave, point or yell at any direction. Soon the ponies, Twilight included, let out a collective sigh of relief. “He’s done! Thank Celestia, he’s done!” cried Rarity. “I’m not too sure about the others, but this Brandon sounds awfully familiar,” Pinkie said, scratching the back of her head, “Applejack, didn’t you have a cousin called Brandon?” “No, I didn’t.” “You silly-filly. Have you forgot about your cousin Brandon?” “Pinkie, I haven’t. My cousin’s name’s Braeburn.” “You sure? Why would anypony have Braeburn for a name? You must write to Brandon before you forget you had a cousin at all!” “Shut up, you two!” Twilight yelled. She responded to Applejack’s and Pinkie’s confused gazes with an agitated frown. “I know you’re bored but please be quiet! I need to think. Did anypony notice which way Klapi was pointing, when he said Brandon?” Pinkie Pie and Applejack both shrugged, so Twilight turned to Rarity, who tried to look like she wasn’t paying attention to her company. Rarity answered their stares with a couple of sideways glances, but gave in as the others didn’t relent their pressure. “Well, I don’t know of any Brandon,” she began, her hoof lightly scraping the floor, “I was admiring the stylish gentleman leaning against the wall over there.” Twilight’s expression twisted from forced calmness to suppressed rage and back. “What?” Who?” Rarity turned her eyes toward the ceiling. “Well, you can’t expect me to marvel at these savages, now can you?” She pointed her hoof at a relatively plain wall a dozen metres from their position. It didn’t take long to indeed notice a stranger wearing western clothing leaning its back against the wall. The person was wearing a black boater hat and a pink shirt with his dark, casual suit that didn’t include a tie. Closer inspection revealed tinted glasses with small lenses that barely covered the eyes. No beard or moustache decorated the person’s face, but the chin looked fierce enough to belong to a male. “Be careful girls,” Twilight said silently, as the man stood still regardless of their approach. His position by the wall seemed relaxed but still much too tense for the man to be snoozing. “Excuse me, sir. Brandon.” Still nothing. Twilight stopped a couple of metres away from him, but Pinkie ran straight up to the man and immediately poked him to the stomach. Twilight held her breath and swallowed, and yet again nothing happened. “Girls, quickly! Get over here!” Pinkie said over her shoulder. “C’mon, he doesn’t bite. He doesn’t... anything!” The three of them – Klapi not far behind – stood in front of Pinkie Pie and Brandon, who wasn’t a man after all. Brandon was a hologram projected from a tiny gap between two sections of wall. The hologram image was arguably the most lifelike the ponies had ever seen, and technically very advanced. Pinkie unintentionally demonstrated this by waving her hoof in front of the projector: nothing happened to the picture, not until she covered over two thirds of the gap did it start to fade in quality. “Impressive,” Twilight uttered as her mind began racing. She turned around to Klapi and said: “Has Brandon always been here?” Klapi had just been born around Pan American’s technological assault, thus he probably wasn’t the best to answer even among the tribespeople. And of course, there was the language barrier. “Brandon vees us, heelyainen myoes. Mé tukatan Brandon.” Twilight shook her head. What was she even thinking? She tried to continue her brainstorming, but Applejack interrupted her thought: “That wasn’t all, folks. I found a hidden door. I can barely see the hinges, but it opens outward.” Twilight and Rarity stared at her silently, while Pinkie was busy striking poses with holo-Brandon. “Rarity? Twilight? There’s no handle. And it opens outward.” “Oh right,” the unicorns said in unison and engulfed a piece of the wall in their purple and blue auras. Applejack was right and something budged, though the combined effort of the two opened the door all the way and violently smashed it into the wall right next to holo-Brandon. The event turned a few heads, but the prevalent noise in the hall quickly drowned all clatter. The doorway was the same size as the ones humans normally built, and so was the corridor it led to. The walls and ceiling were plain, and without the dim, white light coming from a few optical fibres in the ceiling it would’ve been pitch black. Twilight could make out another light source maybe fifty metres down into the corridor. “Twilight, I know that look of yours. You want us to go in there.” Rarity’s remark brought a smirk on Twilight’s muzzle. “Really? Are you that sure about it?” “Just look at Klapi now. It’s crystal clear he didn’t know this passage existed.” Klapi’s pursed lips and anxiously rolling eyes supported Twilight’s theory. She continued, a kind of fire burning in her eyes: “Think of the secrets we’re about to reveal. It’s beyond amazing!” “We know what you mean, but a posthumous trophy is not as amazing as it sounds like,” said Rarity, but Twilight didn’t as much as acknowledge her. “We’re going!” she proclaimed. “Now where’s Pinkie Pie?” “I’m right here,” said a muffled voice, “between the wall and the door. In a veeery tight space.” After cracking back the door, scooping Pinkie from it, and making sure she hadn’t caught any serious injuries, the four ponies made their way into the corridor. “Y’know what would be real fun?” Pinkie said, a little shaky. “If Klapi, instead of following us, just slammed the door shut and ran!” Rarity offered a response: “Pinkie dear, you have such a strange way with” – the door slammed shut – “fun.” As expected, some disorder followed: Applejack tried pushing the door open, but it didn’t move despite her best efforts, and Rarity yelled at Pinkie Pie for causing everything with her thoughtless comments. Pinkie was happy that she’d been right and ignored Rarity. All Twilight did was gaze upon the space they were now in. Going through was their plan all along – whether the door was open or not made no difference to her. The optical fibres gave out more light than it had first appeared, thus the true colours of the corridor quickly revealed themselves. It wasn’t a corridor at all but another hall with low ceiling. Everywhere was plain white and silent; like they were standing in nothingness. As the ponies’ own noise died, they could make out a faint hum around them. Twilight walked slowly toward the light in the room’s opposite end. Only a thin strip of the hall was lit, which made the ponies move in a relatively straight line. It took them about a minute to reach the middle of the hall, which suddenly caused the hum to increase significantly. The light in the back as well as the optical fibres disappeared in a burst of white light from the surroundings that rendering the ponies blind and confused. However, it wasn’t bright enough to keep them blind for long. The ponies managed to see a short glimpse of millions of tiny red, blue, and green beams of light crisscrossing the space before settling down and forming a picture of a handsome, young man: holo-Brandon. The image was bigger than the one in the large hall, but the extremely fine detail remained. Pompous orchestrated music filled every invisible corner of the hall, and the image came to life. “Does life wear you down? Does time always seem to run out? When you sleep? When you work? Do you long for that extra bounce?” Brandon’s deep, graceful voice was beyond comparison. It highlighted the man’s already apparent ethereal beauty as he walked around the ponies, letting an unseen breeze fly through every square-centimetre of his figure and cause immeasurably complex ripples across the fabrics in his clothes. He was marvel embodied. Every inch of him screamed perfection. “I’m Brandon Bayer, and I’m here with a solution.” Pinkie, Rarity, and even Applejack to some extent were all trying to find some bits to throw at the man no matter the product he was advertising. Twilight stayed sceptical with her objective point of view, though noticing a tiny bit of drool in the corner of Rarity’s mouth made it tougher. “Take a sip of Orango.” Brandon produced a soda can with the same blue-red pattern in the label that the tribesmen had painted on themselves. “Vitamins! Minerals! Proteins! Three cans a day is all you need to live a healthy life.” He opened the can, and the video zoomed in to show it in slow motion. The orange liquid poured into a glass with ice and zoomed out again. “Orango. It’s you, but on a good day.” Brandon disappeared, but the hall stayed brightly lit. “Now he’s what I call something,” said Rarity and wiped her muzzle clean with her hoof. “I reckon we should get outta here, the light’s givin’ me a headache,” said Applejack. “Hm, maybe not yet.” Twilight mused. “There could be other videos.” “That’s what I’m afraid of. It could play the theme song.” Applejack glanced at Pinkie, who of course got all excited about the possibility of hearing a new song. “I know what you’re thinkin’, Pinkie, but for all our sakes we should get movin’. You can come back here later.” “Fine,” Pinkie Pie and Twilight said. Two and a half seconds later an orange-flavoured hell broke loose. Orango! Orango! Where you goin’ when you’re around refreshments? Orango! Orango! Nothing takes the cake like you know it! Orango! Orango! King of the drinks. It’s drink of the kings! Orango! Orango! “Get runnin’! It plays on for eighteen minutes!” They galloped toward the door thankfully marked with a green exit light. Pinkie – though escaping like the rest – was also thankful for such an easy-to-learn chorus.
1. French Connection1. French Connection ~ I hate travelling and explorers. The many streets of Jakarta were always bustling and busy, but never chaotic. There was always a certain calmness in the middle of all the trading and bartering – daily life, that is. It seemed like during late morning, when the Sun has just begun scorching the skins of the less-prepared, Jakarta manages to attain a unique atmosphere; something that the modern world has smothered with all of its brilliant inventions and applications. Claude couldn't care less. He was busy waiting for his customers, also known as napping. The rather small man blended well into the scene. He sat on a small stool, leaned against his tall scrapmetal fence, his face hidden under a light tan fedora. To many passers-by he was more a sculpture than a living being. The approaching group of six ponies were no exception. ”Lavion de tro– somethin', I guess we're finally in the right place,” said Applejack, a bright orange earth pony with a hat quite similar to Claude's. ”Phew, it took us a while to get here. This city is one big maze,” said the light purple unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, while magically holding a city map in front of her. ”We would've made good time if Rainbow Dash showed off a little less,” Applejack retorted. ”Hey, it's not my fault these people haven't seen a real flier before!” The light blue pegasus flew in front of the pack and pointed a hoof towards a small but enthusiastic crowd of people cheering for Rainbow Dash – each in their own language and dialect. ”It's my duty to show off a little.” “These people haven’t just not-seen a flier. I don’t think they’ve seen any live pony, at all! We’re celebrities!” said Pinkie Pie, a bright pink earth pony, while bouncing around the scene – also getting a share of admirers. “I call horseapples! This is a capital city for heaven’s sakes.” But Pinkie Pie wasn’t listening to Applejack, or anypony else, for she was busy with people wanting to pose in a picture with her. ”Just ease up everypony. We are here now, aren't we,” said Rarity, another unicorn with a pure white coat, wearing a purple sunbonnet that went nicely with her mane. ”We didn't get lost and the Sun is shining, no need to make such a scene about it. Applejack, this is the right place. L'avion de tropiques – aeroplane of the tropics! Ah, reminds me of Paris!” ”You've never told me you went to Paris,” said a timid voice, barely audible to the untrained ear. It belonged to Fluttershy, a light yellow pegasus, whose long, pink mane seemed to always cover at least half of her expression. “I haven’t? Oh, it was absolutely magnifique!It was me, Shimmer Stardust, Merigold and that fabulous Arman, who showed us around. He was waiting for us at Charles de Gaulle...” The other four’s pupils shrunk into pinpricks. Twilight’s quick thinking was the first to attain results: “Hold on there, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for you two to catch up.” “But we must press on, you’re right, Twilight,” added Rarity, prompting a silent sigh of relief, “then, where is our link, our contact, our guide?” “Ooh, I know, it’s him right here!” Pinkie Pie hopped next to the statuesque Claude and popped his hat from his head. His eyes shot open the moment the shadow cast by the fedora left his face. Claude had gentle features over his thin figure. He had brown, ambiguous eyes, a short but sharp nose, and his chin was clean-shaven. His short hair was only a tad darker than his almost pale white skin which gave Claude a spectral appearance in the sunlight. The flat wisp of hair on his forehead only emphasized an already distinctive widow’s peak. He sprung up and caught the hat by the rim before it touched the ground. After brushing off the few specks of dust, Claude put the fedora back on and raised his annoyed face. He stood in front of the ponies, wearing a bleach white tank top and a pair of tan plus fours along with his hat. “Calme-toi, madame. Si tu sépares un homme de son chapeau, ça peut te coûter un doigt.” Claude spoke with a cultured Parisien accent, indicating he had grown up in an educated household. Claude veered his gaze from Pinkie’s face to her hooves. “Ou quelque chose de même valeur.” “You do not threaten any of my friends like that, monsieur!” While the others could nothing but stand and watch, Rarity was most aware of the situation. “But I’m willing to give you another chance, pour t’excuser, bien sûr.” To further impress the Frenchman, Rarity lightly brushed the tip of her elegant purple mane with her foreleg, as if it wasn’t beautiful already. Claude’s expression softened – he even briefly smiled at Rarity’s performance. “Pardonnez-moi, madames. But I ‘ave a very important meeting soon. Alors, go away.” He sat down in his stool, but his eyes were still onto the ponies. The ponies, with the exception of Fluttershy, who flinched enough to jump half a metre upwards, were unfazed by Claude’s new use of language – and the strong accent. Though he didn’t look the slightest bit threatening, Fluttershy was eager to follow his order as quickly as possible. “Hold on Fluttershy, we’re not going anywhere yet,” said Twilight firmly and stood up closer to Claude, “So, are you, or are you not Claude Strauss?” “Ouais, c’est moi,” he answered without showing his obvious surprise, “mais, as I said, I’m busy.” “It says right here, that a certain ‘Claude Strauss’ would accompany the six of us to the Papuan Highlands.” Twilight was levitating a sheet of paper in front of Claude, who snatched it. While it usually was hard to distinguish the continental in Claude, the six ponies had the best available seats for this particular showing. Whereas the tropics communicate with form and feel, Claude expressed an explicit demonstration of colour: a quick turn to bleach white which was soon followed by a deep, blushing red. “LES CONNARDS! C’est vous, les ambassadeurs!? Non, c’est pas possible! C’est faux! C’est une blague!” Claude stood up, eyes digging into the paper again, but his tantrum remained. “Merde! Ces connards me trompent!” “Ne pleure pas, monsieur.” Rarity managed to get her soothing words through the noise coming from Claude, as well as all the random things he was kicking around. But he stopped instantly after hearing the words and quickly turned his back at the ponies. “Que!? I’m– I’m not crying!” Claude turned around but kept half of his face hidden under his hat. “Une petite surprise, c’est tout. I was expecting the real ambassadeurs. The men, who shoot their enemies’ ‘eads off with miniguns, and after that, cut off their testicles avec les épées des samouraïs!” “Cut off their testicles! Is this guy insane?” Claude gave no reaction to Rainbow Dash’s remark, but Applejack answered for him: “I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout that, Dash. ‘Cause I wanna know why’s he expectin’ these testicle-cutters instead of us.” Claude picked up on the comment and turned to Applejack, revealing his beetroot face in the process. “Do you know what’s in Papouasie? Does even one of you know where we’re going?” “Jungle, extinct volcanoes, very few people...” Twilight listed. “And paradise birds, tree-kangaroos, and lots of different butterflies,” Fluttershy chimed in, the familiar subject encouraging her. “...and apparently a certain scientist lost in the middle of it all.” Twilight’s conclusion curved the Frenchman’s mouth to a faint smile. “Avec ça, on peut commencer. But there’s still a lot you must now. Alors, venez.” Claude turned to face his fence and yelled over to the other side: “Ouvre! Nous avons des visiteurs!” The group entered Claude’s yard, a scrapyard with a low, sand-coloured hangar standing in the middle amidst piles of thrashed metal. Claude led them to it and inside his office. A young Jakartan boy with a cyan t-shirt accompanied him, and they had a brief but lively discussion – Claude speaking French and the boy Indonesian. After introductions in the scantily-furnished office, Claude drew out his mobile-phone and turned on its laser projector. The image shown on the wall was that of a young woman. She had smooth, fallow brown hair that just didn’t touch her shoulders, blue, round eyes and thin eyebrows. Her whole face was somewhat narrow, but most of her features were soft. “La scientifique, Emma ‘Emsy, she’s a sociologist from Toronto. I took this photo a year ago, when I took ‘er there for the first time. She came back on ‘er own.” Claude changed the picture; it was Ms. Hemsy again but from a different perspective. The next one had Hemsy wearing Claude’s fedora. “Looks like Claude has a crush on somepony,” said Pinkie Pie around the twentieth Hemsy-themed picture. “Ah, tais-toi...” Claude began rifling through the pictures fast enough for the ponies to lose track. He settled on a different photograph: a light pink unicorn with a curly mane about the same colour as the purple in Twilight’s coat. The blue in its eyes was a straight giveaway. “This is Madame ‘Emsy two months ago, when I took ‘er back. She ‘ad got converted in Toronto.” The slide show ended. “I only have one photo of ‘er like that. Elle était très pressée. She wanted to go immédiatement. I tried asking why, mais, she was secretive. Also, she ‘ad changed considérablement, it was confusing,” Claude said with his eyes looking out of one of the tiny windows the office had to offer. “And we’re off to rescue her, is that it?” Rainbow Dash’s voice held a certain anxiousness due to the group being crammed indoors, but it also hinted of a heart for adventure. “Oui, c’est votre mission! I’m only ‘ere to accompany. ‘Ow come you know so little of this? I would not even do this, if it was not for Madame ‘Emsy. Et j’ai signé le contrait avec mon sang, mais, c’est pas important.” “We trust that Princess Celestia has made the right decision sending us here for this task,” said Twilight in an official tone, “and to be honest, we can deal with a lot of situations, even dangerous ones.” Claude sighed and splayed his arms at the ponies. “Bien alors, follow me. Let’s go meet Dina.” He walked the few steps to the room’s back door, opened it, and they entered the hangar. There was one craft in front of them, but since Claude was the only pilot, that was all they needed. The vanilla-coloured craft had “Dina” spelled on its side. It was in good condition, sleek and shiny, even in the shade of the hangar. Its design was another marvel in itself; Dina was both a jet plane and a helicopter. The blades would fold back and function as wings, allowing the dual-jet engine underneath to take over and carry the craft to higher speed and altitude. “Magnifique, n’est-ce pas? The absolute coolest avion around,” declared the Frenchman. “Très magnifique. So elegant, so smooth.” Rarity whooped, getting odd looks from her friends. Such enthusiasm over an aircraft was uncommon for Rarity, especially when most of her recent letters and other messages suggested the opposite: steadily growing apathy. “But is it fast?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Ouais, c’est la haute-technologie. Très rapide. It carries eight people, mais we will not bring any extras because Kakara, le garçon, ‘as to take Dina back ‘ere. And we can’t bring any tools or equipment, seulement les nécessités. Les tribus ‘ave their beliefs and they will not let us mingle.” “The tribes? What’s their incentive in this?” It was Twilight’s turn to ask. Though being the most educated of the bunch, it was an elementary question to Claude. “Fifteen years ago, a company called Pan American Corporation invaded Papuasie but not with weapons, it was technology. For a month, they flew avions all over the mountains, dropping brown boxes partout la jungle. They changed le milieu forever. C’est pourquoi Madame ‘Emsy était allée là.” As Claude went silent, a surprising source took his place, it was Fluttershy. “The techno tribes,” she said silently but firmly enough to be heard well. The group turned towards her – each of them had their brows arched in a similar, incredulous manner. Fluttershy took the hint: “I just happened to... in that Bureau in Bangkok. I heard an old professor talking to another man about...” She turned her gaze up at the ceiling and threw an awkward smile. “The strangest pieces of– that one could hope to find. There were others, but he mentioned the Papuan techno tribes to be the most... disturbing.” Claude gave Fluttershy a lazy applause. “Could not describe them better myself.” “So we’ll just have to meet ‘em,” said Applejack, summing up everypony’s thoughts, though the thirst for more information was hard to keep in control – especially for Twilight, whose expression had changed to a deep frown. She was starting to worry. “Ouais. Prepare yourselves to leave.”
2. Dina Colada2. Dina Colada ~ You will be offered everything, promised everything; people will lay claim to every kind of skill, while knowing nothing. Dina taxied out into the glaring sunlight that shone through the layers of smog and dust, making the shadows irregular and shapeless. People outside the yard gathered around it every time somebody noticed the sound of turning rotors. The plane-helicopter hybrid ascended steadily up in the air. Claude was in the cockpit, with Kakara next to him as his co-pilot, and in the cabin – behind a soundproof door – the six ponies took the rest of Dina’s red cup seats. “Est-ce que vous êtes prêtes?” The loudspeaker in the cabin carried Claude’s speech from the front. “For whatever troubles that lie ahead of us, we are ready, monsieur,” yelled Rarity, already being the established link between the other ponies and the indifferent Frenchman. “Vous êtes prêtes...” Claude mumbled back and pulled the accelerator switch, sending Dina soaring away. The flight got boring fast. Claude wasn’t much of a music enthusiast, so he just tuned the radio into whichever channel that didn’t irritate him. The ponies, however, were offered a whole another form of entertainment: Kakara was with them in the cabin, telling the thrilling tale of his ten-year-old life. Claude had dimmed the windows and was about to fall asleep, when the cabin door slid open, and Applejack carefully made her way to the co-pilot’s seat. She pondered a while for a decent ice breaker. “I can’t speak Indonesian. Uh... Nice hat.” “Merci, madame,” said Claude and tilted back his fedora to reveal his rather droopy face. There were more important things than sleeping right now, and he didn’t hesitate to speak with the first thought popping up in his mind. “What do you do for a living, Applejack?” “I have an apple orchard. I work over there, or at least I used to. Been travellin’ so much with the Bureaus an’ all.” There was some regret in her voice, but Claude couldn’t notice. After all, the first Conversion Bureau opened almost a decade ago. “J’ai voyagé un peu aussi. Milles des kilomètres, quelques-uns par la voiture, beaucoup plus par les avions différents. Et avec Dina, huit cent quatre-vingt-dix-huit milles et neuf, mais, il augmente à chaque moment.” Applejack rolled her eyes and murmured something back, but this time in Equestrian. It was surprising how little the ponies had actually spoken their native language, as this was the first time Claude could clearly make out its otherworldly appearance. It wasn’t Malayan, certainly not European; to Claude, it was different, and most things weren’t. “D’accord, on parle anglais. ‘Ave you been to anywhere worth your while?” “Yeah, too many to count. The last place I really liked, I think it was Florence.” “Florence!” The simple idea of an apple farmer appreciating one of the most beautiful cities on Earth was enough to shoot Claude’s eyes wide open. “It’s a beauty. The churches, the piazzas, and the palazzos.” “I kinda liked the people there,” Applejack said, continuing as if Claude hadn’t said anything in between. “L’Italiens... You don’t go to Florence to see the people, you go and see la Renaissance.” Applejack put up a cutesy smile. “Nah, I didn’t. Don’t really fancy paintin’” Applejack was barely able to finish her sentence before Claude slammed his hands into the dashboard. “Take the wheel, madame,” he said and stormed out from the cockpit. “...tell me more about the rafters!” Pinkie Pie cheered to Kakara, who was standing in the middle of the cabin and miming some kind of a boat trip, all the while giving amped comments at incredible speed. “They’re not rafters? I love guessing games! The canoers? The fishermen? The hunters? The zookeepers...” Out of the blue, a very angry Frenchman burst in and leaped on the empty seat left by Applejack. “Kakara, arrête pour un moment.” The boy interrupted his show, though not without objections from Pinkie, who was clearly enjoying the vivid mental imagery. “Les poneys, écoutez– listen to me carefully. You are Equestrian, you speak Equestrian, and you ‘ave learned English.” The ponies nodded at each statement. Claude was deep red but retained a steady composure – out of self-respect as well as the fact that they were 11 kilometres up from the ground. He continued: “This is l’Indonésie, but you don’t speak Indonesién – another bunch of unsure nods – expliquez ça! Madame Applejack grows apples! No princess in ‘er right mind would send apple farmers to Papouasie. I’m much more experienced than you six combined, et je ne suis que le pilote.” There was a brief moment of silence with the ponies staring at Claude, who was making rabid gestures and faces, the meanings of which eluding the ponies by a wide margin. “Applejack hasn’t been a farmer for ten years, neither has Rarity been a tailor, or me a librarian.” Twilight broke the silence with tremendous determination in her voice: she had, during the enigmatic show set up by Kakara, been able to turn her fear of setting her hooves into unknown and possibly dangerous territory into a new thirst for knowledge and understanding. Even though she’d never wanted to, Twilight’s position, not just as an Equestrian, but as a famous Equestrian had sheltered her from some of Earth’s intricacies. This would be a hooves-on experience on something mostly new. “But I know we still bear the Elements of Harmony. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but it’s the most powerful magic known in Equestria. I know magic hasn’t left me, honesty hasn’t left Applejack, or laughter hasn’t left Pinkie Pie, even though we haven’t been to our homes for awhile.” Claude stared at Twilight over the back of his seat. He then looked at the other ponies if they had anything to add. “Right on, Twi!” Rainbow Dash yelled from the very back, where she and Fluttershy had gone to escape the on-board entertainment. “And your element is?” Claude snapped the question at Rainbow Dash. “Loyalty,” she answered, greatly emphasizing the individual syllables. “Très bien,” Claude said and clapped once, “so is mine, alors, I won’t throw you off the avion. Am I loyal, or what?” “Pardon m-monsieur,” Rarity said with notable shiver in her voice, “but shouldn’t you be flying cet avion?” Claude managed to raise an eyebrow at Rarity before he noticed: Dina wasn’t as level as it should’ve been. He took a quick glance at Kakara, who had already buckled himself up to a seat and was now reciting prayers. Applejack was sitting in the pilot’s seat with both forelegs on the controls. She was frustrated and extremely tense all over, sweating and trembling from the effort to fly a device much more complicated than any machine Applejack had operated before. The altitude meter that was counting down quite rapidly didn’t add much comfort to the mix. “Comment est-ce possible, Madame Applejack!? You turned off le pilote automatique!” “Ya told me to fly the plane. I couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.” The tone of Applejack’s voice, much like the earth pony herself, indeed represented honesty in its purest. Claude knew she couldn’t have overheard the exchange in the back, but seeing a down-to-earth farmer been dragged into such a taxing position he almost felt sorry as well. Nothing in the mysterious contract had implied an easy trip, so if it was rough for him, it would be rough for the ponies, and there was no reason to deliberately make it any rougher. Claude was quick to undo Applejack’s errors. “Ah, don’t worry. Ça marche, ça marche bien.” Claude looked at Applejack, his expression – through the prevalent red – was now gentle. “‘Ow about we fly this thing a little? Give them a real reason to be scared.” “I dunno if we should. Stunt flyin’ ain’t something I’ve done too much.” “Ah, tais-toi.” With that Claude pushed Dina into a steep downward spiral. He knew what kind of handling the plane could take and so did its computer, which would’ve automatically interfered with stunts endangering Dina’s integrity. Claude let the spiral go on for several seconds. Then he pressed the button for autopilot. The computer took control of the craft; it leveled violently but still not even touching its limits. “Woah Claude, you’re crazy! I just hope they were all buckled up back there.” “Madame Applejack, tonight we are scraping pony meat off the windows.” Applejack didn’t laugh but Claude did, ever so zestfully. Including Claude’s little diversion, it took approximately six hours to reach Papua, much like the previous two times Claude had flown the route. Kakara would’ve still had stories to tell, but their impending descent didn’t let him continue. Dina slowed down and once more changed to a helicopter as the jets shut down and the blades unfolded. Rarity was accompanying Claude in the cockpit. After Applejack had mentioned visiting Florence, Rarity had been dying for more information, which Claude was happy to offer since this time the topics went – if not perfectly – much better with his interests. “Il faut que nous continue plus tard, madame. Nous allons arriver bientôt.” Claude pushed a button and the windows became crystal clear again. In the distance there was a mountain range with a single summit rising steep above the rest. While everything else in their field of vision was lush, green forests, the peak featured shades of yellow, brown, and even black. “Darling, as much as I’m appreciating the view, it must not be a treetop where we’re landing, absolument pas.” Rarity gazed nervously below, trying to find openings, or even better, clues of civilized life. Rarity still tried to keep an elegant posture, she held her head straight and a hoof by her chin as if she was evaluating the situation from a more superior position than she actually had. Claude answered Rarity’s unspoken question: “N’oublie pas, madame Rarity, c’est pas la première fois quand je suis là. Ils vont nous contacter.” “Oh, I just love the way you pronounce my name. Rarity, Rarity... It’s jagged and rocailleux, but it’s beautiful.” Claude facepalmed, for it was all he could do at this point, for he could guess the reason for Rarity’s oddity. Paris, with its blackened buildings, had struck her as being dirty. Along with the disillusion, came Arman – a great tailor on his own that made Rarity both miss and frown upon her modest business back in Ponyville – to infect Rarity with the poetic bug, one serious pest of the modern society. Now, she could sprout different vines of creativity at every possible moment. People often find the vines extremely clingy. To Claude, Rarity was doomed beyond salvation. A second after he was done shaking his head, the necessary information appeared on the computer display. “Fasten your seat belts, we are landing,” Claude said with the cabin door slid open so everyone could hear. “Good that you’re giving the heads up this time,” Twilight snarked back. Before the others could chime in, Claude had already shut the door. There was a few minutes of gentle descent, when the craft abruptly tilted to the left, and a moment later back to the right. Claude glanced at the computer display and then outside. Blood began flowing into his face once again. “Merde, ils ont construit quelque chose de nouveau... et il est grand.” Rarity noticed Claude’s expression and frowned. “Hmph. We’re all creative beings, darling, we must dream big, think big, and sometimes even build big. There must be a reason why you are being so hard on these, tribes, as you call them. Si j’étais toi, I– Why is le pilote automatique switched on?” Claude turned at the autopilot button with a twisted look on his face and pushed it, but nothing happened, it stayed lit. He immediately began smashing the button with his fist and cursing its missing functionality. “C’est aussi une antenne!” “So this is not something you did the last time you were here?” “Non! Certainement pas! Look outside, Rarity, it’s not meflying the avion, je suis sûr c’est la construction là-bas!” Rarity did as asked, and she gasped: below them, covering the treetops, there was a huge net, an almost transparent, but definitely solid, construct that reflected the forest around it, hence it was hard to spot. The holes in it were big but still way too small for even a rather modest aircraft like Dina to pass through. Taking their velocity into consideration, the group wasn’t landing on it, they were crashing into it. The craft took a hit, but it wasn’t the crushing end to life that Claude, Rarity, and the rest were expecting. Dina only rocked back and forth a few times before it leveled and began descending slowly in a straight, vertical course. Every now and then, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the craft’s interiors with smaller sparks randomly erupting everywhere in the net. When they were about to touch the net itself, it moved away from them, the hexagon pattern breaking its regular form and opening a hole big enough for the whole aircraft. Some people could be seen milling about below. The moment they reached the opening, all of Dina’s electronics turned themselves off. With every vector pointing straight downward, it sure wasn’t the safest thing to shut down the rotor with 25 metres still between the craft and the ground. The color on Claude’s face changed accordingly. “Ils vont nous tuer.”
3. Techno Thunder3. Techno Thunder ~ It was a society remarkably adverse to feelings that we consider as being natural. Sounds of composite cables attaching themselves to Dina’s hull protruded through all the gasping and screaming that was taking place inside. While the rest were too worried of their fate to think about much else, Claude was already having nightmares considering Dina’s next repair bill, the paint job alone wasn’t a cheap fix. The craft had only taken a few metres of freefall before the black cables had caught it, and it was now in steady descent with all electronics still offline. Claude did a quick check on the passengers: Twilight and Fluttershy were both shaking, whereas Rarity had taken refuge in fainting; Applejack was looking casual, as if she’d been expecting the ruckus; Pinkie Pie was certainly surprised but showed no signs of fear or worry; Rainbow Dash was demonstrating symptoms of claustrophobia, trying almost desperately to open the door – firmly stuck in place by the cables – and exit the craft. Then there was Kakara holding Rarity’s precious sunbonnet, which had been rendered unusable by some unfortunate mishap in the middle of things. “On a des chapeaus, gar. Nous allons trouver un nouveau, peut-être.” It was never tough to make the kid smile after such an incident, and Claude knew that. When Claude settled in Jakarta, Kakara was practically there waiting for him, the first to offer his aid in all the trivial, albeit very much necessary, things. Claude was glad to have the boy around, himself having been a lone wolf type for a good part of his life, it was the most stable relationship he’d ever had with a real person, excluding close relatives. Kakara didn’t seem too unhappy himself, even if the pairing was comically eccentric. Little by little, as the craft slowly neared the ground, their eyes got used to the evening Sun’s dim rays. Despite the cleared landing spot, the scenery was dominated by trees of varying sizes, which would emphasize the upcoming darkness. Claude cleared Rainbow Dash away from the exit, telling her to wake up Rarity so that they all could step outside, when the cables would let go. All around the craft was filled by the forest, all but a single stuccoed block approximately three by three by three metres in size. A small, lit window indicated it housed something, but one couldn’t see what was inside. The humid air dripped of ozone created by the net structure that was practically invisible now that it wasn’t active. Upon disembarking, the group was greeted by two solemn figures, the sight of which had little effect on the ponies, who were focused on having solid earth beneath their hooves. The two dark-skinned men were dressed in long, dark blue felt coats that resembled uniforms used in many naval units around the globe. They both held ceremonial spears with shafts made of wood, and the heads were like opened jackknives welded into a metal gear the size of a large fist. They also wore helmets which bore strong resemblance to the kitchen colanders one might use in one’s home. The only difference in their turnout were the ornamental patterns in their spears made of the white and yellow tail feathers of the lesser bird-of-paradise – one had more yellow in his than the other. “Meeka sieltae tou lé?” the yellow one began, hiding his anxiety, while the other leaned a little to take a look behind Claude. The yellow one quickly noticed his comrade’s jaw dropping, but it didn’t take long for him to join in, as six pastel colored ponies exited the craft one by one, behaving oddly and speaking a language he couldn’t understand. “Sieltae tou lé maalee! Ti vas varyele!” The duo turned around and sprinted towards the small, cube-shaped building. “Attendez! Arrêtez!” Claude’s cries were in vain, the men didn’t even slow down, and in a matter of seconds they were inside with the door shut and firmly locked. Claude didn’t chase after them, he just let out a bunch of swears and sat down on the doorstep of the aircraft. Rarity was plainly prancing around, happy that she was alive, while Applejack was kissing the ground with unmatched ardour. Fluttershy was busy oohing and aahing at the new environment as was Rainbow Dash, but for negative reasons since she didn’t dare to go flying in the dusk. Pinkie Pie had trotted over to the building and was knocking on its door. “Helloo-o? Why did you go inside? You looked like you were scared of us. You sillies, why would you be scared? We haven’t even met, and it’s not like we’re monsters or anything. I’m Pinkie Pie, I’m from Ponyville, and...” Twilight was the first to reattain normal behaviour. “Claude, what’s the matter?” “I’m not leaving Dina alone with the locals. Their village isn’t very far, you can go there. Je doit attendre un peu ici.” Claude pointed at a spot in the forest, where Twilight instantly spotted some tribesmen and -women, though they were remarkably different from the two greeters they’d just met. These ones looked normal, or as normal as one expects tribespeople to look like. All men wore a piece of cotton cloth around their waists that was held up by a belt of weaved straw, while the women wore simple, blond, cotton dresses. Their hairstyles were quite uniform as well: long hair tied to a type of topknot with strands of weeds or colourful feathers. Certainly more intriguing than their clothes were the colours in the men’s skins. Deep shades of blue and green in a chequerboard pattern that changed into complex ornaments from the neck up. The women bore nothing but their natural dark brown. There was one last thing Twilight noticed: every single one carried a knife of some kind in their belts. Many kinds of blades were present – all of them carefully sheathed; she could spot cleavers, bowie knives, small pocket knives – clearly a symbol of status for the tribespeople. “I’m not sure I want to go anywhere,” she said, “you know these people, Claude, you should come with us.” She briefly checked if the others had similar thoughts and picked up iffy murmuring about the knives from all of them. Turning back to Claude she saw the man was rolling his eyes. “Madame, I’m not your chasseur blanc. I’m a victim of circumstance, mais I want to find Madame ‘Emsy like you do. Alors, you ‘ave mysupport, n’est-ce pas?” Claude formed a makeshift megaphone around his mouth. “Klapi! C’est Claude! Viens-ici!” The spectating tribespeople repeated Claude’s call like a distorted echo. For a short while nothing happened, until an adolescent boy about fifteen years of age appeared from the bushes and walked up to Claude and the ponies. “Valcoyné py rou!” the boy shouted at Claude, who nodded back. The boy, Klapi, was dressed like the other men but wasn’t painted due to his young age. The knife in his belt looked more like a letter opener than a proper blade. “Ya, ya, ya, yx, k’ax, kous. Kestit koudel.” Klapi held up six fingers as he goggled at Claude, while slowly turning his face around that made his hairdo flip over from one side of his head to the other. Both men smiled, though Claude a bit more profoundly. “Oui, c’est parfait,” he answered. Klapi ran back to the edge of the clearing and yelled out something to make most of the other tribespeople leave, only two men and himself staying put. Claude watched as they took positions by the trail that led away into the dark forest. ”Ecoutez, les poneys! Pack your things, and Klapi will take you to the village. Who knows, maybe they 'old you a feast.” Claude barely had time to draw his mouth shut before Pinkie surprised him from behind the aircraft: ”Did you say feast! That's just super, I love feasting almost as much as I love partying!” ”That's jus' great, Pinkie,” Applejack chimed in, though she didn't share the fellow earthpony's enthusiasm, ”we jus' gotta remember not to get feasted on ourselves.” “Oh, how can you even think of such thing?” said Rarity, who was browsing through everypony’s saddle bags for her hat. Out of the six, Rainbow Dash was the only one without any equipment at all – though it was debatable whether items like cupcakes, birdseed, and a parasol could be considered equipment in the current locale. “Now, has anypony seen my sunbonnet? I’m positive I had it with me in the airplane.” The ponies milled about for a few more minutes, during which the sky got darker and darker as night fell, star- and moonlight being completely absorbed into a thick layer of clouds. Like the sky was weaving together a dress to prepare itself for a great spectacle; only to tear it apart in favor of the audience. Soon, it was bound to pour. It wasn’t hard to tell that Klapi and his comrades were anxious of the ponies. Even though they were cracking jokes and having seemingly light-hearted conversation, there was always at least one pair of eyes keeping firm watch on the ponies. “Now hold on a minute everypony!” Applejack yelled, when the others decided that everything was quite set to go. She turned back to the aircraft and shot an incredulous glare at Claude. ”I think I know what you’re plannin’. You’re gonna leave us as soon as we get outta your sight.” “Que!? I’m not leaving. Kakara flies Dina to Jakarta, not me.” “Kakara? But he’s just a lil’ kid!” Claude glanced at Kakara in the cockpit and chuckled a bit. “Chére Applejack, anyone can fly cet avion. I could teach a chicken to fly it. You are the exception.” For the second time that day, Applejack was unable to join the Frenchman’s merriment. But now they were finally ready to go. The triple shade of trees, clouds, and the horizon itself was enough to render eyesight rather trivial in the forest trail. The ponies could barely make out each other’s outlines, however, other observations could be made. It was apparent that some other path had been used to move about materials for the concrete cabin, the composite cable reels – they must have situated in the vicinity – and the net structure that had caught Dina, for this was too narrow, uneven, and twisting. Secondly, Klapi and the two companions, who introduced themselves as Noki and Savu, though curious especially about the pegasi, avoided actually touching the ponies by any means. Even when a particularly nasty tree root almost tripped Twilight, Noki and Savu just jumped away from her, letting her stumble on her own. In the other end of the little caravan, Klapi did the same, as he constantly made sure there was at least one diagonal step between him and Rainbow Dash’s back. With help from the infallible step of the tribesmen they cleared the distance in less than twenty minutes. The group arrived in a small plateau mostly clear, or cleared, of trees. The increase in light was most welcome, but its source was no campfires or torches, it was light-emitting diodes in the form of colorful party lights, which decorated the few tree trunks and huts. ”Brown boxes,” Twilight retorted as Rainbow shot a question concerning the lights. “Why PAC didn’t spare, say, normal streetlights is something I can’t fathom. At least not yet.” They had to wait for Klapi to run some errand before going any further into the village. They could spot a few round huts, which consisted of low walls made of pretty small log pillars that in turn supported longer but thinner pieces that connected in the middle and were covered with leaves from the local palm tree, smoke rising from the summit of the roof. All huts were built in this way, but some were smaller and some bigger than the other; for example, the hut towards which Klapi ran was very large, almost a dozen metres in diameter. Now with the improved lighting situation, Rainbow Dash got the courage to fly a small survey loop around the premises, which caused some shake-ups with Noki and Savu, who couldn’t close their mouths for a good while. As obvious as it was that the village had seen no pegasi before, was the relative lack of true boldness in Rainbow Dash. Houses were always tall, the air always had dangerous traffic, and the weather was always as unpredictable as a master player’s poker hand. Earth was never subtle about the mistakes of the pilot – or rather the one mistake that ends him. She longed for the good old days, when such worries were yet to present themselves. ”I saw more huts, another one of those concrete booths from where we landed, and someway towards the mountain there's a huge flat-roofed building with steam rising off it, and really, it's gigantic.” She landed softly in the middle of the others and folded her wings, which stirred further bemusement in the two men, who briefly mimed the folding motion with their arms. ”I didn't see any humans, though, but I think they've just gone away from the – CRACK-OOM! – rain.” The thunderbolt gave them a second head start before large drops of tropical rain filled the air, all ready to soak everything in their paths. The ponies hurried under the closest tree that looked like it could hold out some rain, though everyone still got a little wet. ”So could this place have something that could be almost considered as civilization? Or were some brown boxes just bigger than others?” said Rarity to nopony in particular as she dried herself with a towel from her saddle bags. ”Could they really do that?” Fluttershy asked. ”Like drop buildings out of planes? No, way,” Rainbow blurted back. Twilight nodded, adding that she wanted to go check out the big building, when it would be appropriate. ”Lesponeys!” This time it was Klapi talking French – or at least using a French word – though the pronunciation was quite close to Claude's. Noki and Savu called over the continuous thunder to guide the young man to the tree. After getting in their sight, Klapi gestured towards himself and yelled some more: ”Noupsah'n Lesponeys!” Klapi led everyone through the storm to the cover of the largest hut, the inside of which was lit by same bundles of party lights but also a large fire in the middle. Cupboards protruding from the walls gave the hut some sense of functionality. It seemed to be a place for gatherings, as the ponies faced maybe twenty more tribesmen, no women or children, most sitting in the ground with low, wooden tables in front of them, all curiously eyeballing the visitors and having keen discussion about them with their comrades. Klapi sat down behind a table and pointed at the empty space, no table or anything, next to him. “Munat tourpéséen,” he said, and the ponies took seats on the floor that looked like just trampled ground, but had some sort of coating that made it feel a bit like warm plastic. Pinkie Pie shook away the water from her coat, mane, and tail, and the few remaining flat hairs sprung immediately back to suit Pinkie's trademark style. ”Finally some action. I've been waiting for ever!” The others quickly found out the source for Pinkie Pie's excitement: a couple of men had taken two large aluminium bowls and trays from the cupboards, while a few others had unsheathed their blades and struck them hard into the wooden tables so that they stuck. ”I have a feeling there's a big number coming on soon.” The looks the other ponies told they weren't quite as positively excited as their pink friend. The men laid down the bowls and trays in front of another cupboard and opened it as well. They were clearly doing something but had their backs turned at the ponies. Faint bubbling sounds barely reached Twilight's ears – she was the only one with any notable interest that way. But before she could make any conclusions, the predicted ”big number” began, drowning the sounds. Someone started singing. It was the kind of tune everyone at first seems to recognize from a melody they've heard a million times before, only to be surprised as it turns out all different. Somebody else took it to accompany his comrade, but instead of singing along he pulled his cleaver from the table and started knocking the dull end against the wood, creating a beat of sorts. A third one joined in scratching together two cooking knives much like a celebrity chef does, when preparing for his next culinary challenge. The show went on; the tribesmen taking turns singing, playing their knives, and some even danced. Everything was so fluid, so natural that it couldn't have been a special occasion set up for the visitors – it was just the way of life in the Papuan Highlands. ”C-can you feel that?” Fluttershy called over the ritualistic merriment and thunder. ”Yeah, I think. There's... rumble,” added Applejack, ”but it could jus' be my stomach. I'm starvin'.” ”Even your stomach has enough decency not to be this savage, dear Applejack. This is something else.” Rarity's statement was backed up by the dust particles jumping up and down on the floor in front of them. The rumble grew stronger and stronger until all six ponies felt it clearly. ”Go easy, everypony. Klapi and everyone else are still acting the same, so it can't be anything upsetting.” Twilight's expression contradicted her words, which barely made herself feel any more secure. ”Maybe for them!” Rarity cried, ”but this tremor will give a new set of colours to my next yawn very soon, if you know what I mean.” The others promptly shifted further away from Rarity, Pinkie Pie being the exception as her mind was focused on the rumble's source that, supposedly, was located somewhere in the ground. Pinkie, ear firmly against the floor, raised a hoof to attract everypony's attention. “I know what it is! It’s a bassline, and it’s getting louder.” After a second or two the others were able to confirm Pinkie’s claim. The speakers were obviously somewhere underground. “Ooh, I wonder if there’ll be even more music.” When Fluttershy heard Pinkie’s words, her gaze grew wide, and she began murmuring to herself and staring blankly at the hut’s opposite end: “Please don’t be dubstep, please don’t be dubstep, please don’t be...” “Err... what’s she babblin’ about?” Applejack asked. She was getting a little annoyed of herself being in a constant state of ignorance. “Dubstep is an old type of riot control invented in London during some bad riots they had very long ago. The dubstep sounds are very effective against normal, thinking humans and ponies too, but they gave up using dubstep, when some poor Londoners mistook it for actual music.” Twilight concluded with a smug smile, proud that she’d googled the information the instant she’d heard about the term for the first time. “So, it’s sound meant to hurt, but people listen to it anyway? For fun?” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes before letting her gaze wander as far into the horizon as possible. “I’ll never understand these humans.” “Yep, and looks like our Fluttershy’s had the worst of it,” Twilight stated, while Fluttershy continued her monologue. “South London... Why did I go there... What has been heard cannot be unheard... Please don’t be dubstep...” Pinkie was sitting on the floor with her forelegs crossed and looking unlikely grim. “Hmph, haters...” The others paid little attention to her comment.
4. Soda Pop Culture4. Soda Pop Culture ~ The darkness through which we are groping is too thick for us to make any pronouncements about it; we cannot even say that it is doomed to last. The night never escalated; the rumbling bassline didn’t get much louder or more elaborate. But with the human aspects it was a completely different story, as the dancing, music, and singing went through many different phases and showed no signs of ceasing until sometime in the very early morning, when the temperature began to warm up from the steep drop that occurred right after the rain. Twilight made a note about this, but it didn’t help with their sleep-wake rhythms that now were terribly out of place. Claude should have informed them about this, she thought. Though they could sleep until noon like the tribe did, it still was quite the ordeal – a tribulation, one might say. The ponies eventually managed to get up, still a little tired and definitely hungry, for the “food” they’d been given last night hadn’t really been the feast they’d hoped for. “And the same thing for breakfast!?” Applejack cried and the others backed her up with disgruntled statements of their own. Their and the tribe’s lunchtime breakfast was served in the same metal bowls from earlier – and was chugged down with the same hard plastic straws. Orange soda. Rarity stared quietly into her bowl of the fizzling goodness, breathing rather heavily. It wasn’t much of surprise that she was taking the situation the worst. She had developed a ‘fine’ taste for cuisine over the past years. So, while the others were already sniffing out for edible plants, Rarity just went on with her staring competition against the orange puddle. Twilight nudged Pinkie Pie and pointed at Rarity. “Pinkie, the cupcakes in your saddlebags. I think this would be an excellent opportunity to ask Rarity’s opinion about them.” Pinkie tilted her head a little and lifted an eyebrow. “Really? That would get Rarity talking again. Didn’t you just say that the silent kinda Rarity is the best Rarity?” “Shh, Pinkie...” “Just kidding. I’ll go get her one right away!” Twilight sighed. Of course she hadn’t meant it that way, but Rarity had been a severe annoyance last night, complaining about every little detail and often with overdramatic claims of how bad some things were. It had just slipped out of Twilight’s lips after Rarity had fallen asleep – a minute before she had done the same. The ponies also got their first look on the women and children of the tribe. They had obviously been up for many hours already. The children followed their mothers as they went about with daily chores, gathering firewood and carrying water. Twilight noticed that only men were allowed to carry the aluminium bowls, as well as enter the largest hut. It also came clear that while the men did each other’s hairdos, the women dealt with the body painting. The painting process was another subject of wonder: the women had transparent, square sheets of extremely thin material which they latched onto the men’s bare skins. While it seemed to be for nothing at first, the covered skin quickly began to change colour. Dark red, blue, green, and black were the most common, but Twilight could spot brighter ones such as orange as well. Klapi interrupted Twilight’s musings with a loud holler from a dozen metres away, where he stood with both Noki and Savu. The two men were significantly darker than Klapi, though most of the skin was covered in a blue and red pattern. The ponies walked up to the tribesmen; Twilight leading the way. “Hey, Klapi and... guys,” Twilight began, “I was wondering if you could –” “No, Twilight! That’s not how you do it at all!” Pinkie Pie cut in and jumped between her and Klapi, “when you want to get the message across, you must forget all nonsense formalities” – she turned to look Klapi in the eyes – “We want visit big house. You take us ponies visit big house?” Twilight was stunned, but Klapi seemed to reach a conclusion of some kind judging by his rapid, almost shakelike nodding. “Lesponeys ha’lou haoutan,” Klapi told his companions and they began nodding too. He turned back to the ponies with a small smile on his lips. “Toullcka mouckan, Lesponeys.” Klapi gestured the ponies to follow the trio through the middle of the village, which made sure that absolutely everyone had a chance to see them in daylight. And just like in Jakarta, most eyes were glued onto Rainbow Dash who backstroked in the air. Their way to the forest trail went past the village’s concrete block. Twilight was sure she saw a head take a peek at them from the tiny window. The trail was a small one and pretty rarely used considering its semi-organic condition. A shortcut, or the tribesmen stayed away from the main routes on purpose, Twilight thought. A half hour trek in the uneven, though steadily rising terrain led the group to a clearing and only several metres away from a discrete entrance to the building. The wall they were facing was quite dull with its prefabricated concrete slabs coated with dark grey pigment. A single aluminium ventilation pipe adorned the corner on the left. Despite looking like it had been dropped out of the sky, the six-storey high building featured a concrete foundation. Klapi jogged to the door, pulling it open and first letting Noki and Savu in. Twilight had already taken the first steps toward the entrance when Fluttershy’s voice halted her: “Are you sure we all have to come in? It looks so – well, not scary but quite forbidding to be honest.” Twilight briefly frowned at her until changing to a more amicable expression. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! These people have been living in relatively unchanged conditions for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and it all changed just fifteen years ago when the corporation introduced them to modern technology. This place is like a small scale case study on all the new stuff Equestria has got from Earth! I’m positive Princess Celestia wouldn’t want us to walk away from a chance such as this.” Twilight felt a twinge of pride flowing into her. All the deductions she was making; finally something truly useful after all these years. “Now hold on a minute,” said Rainbow Dash, “weren’t we supposed to rescue a scientist, Emsy what’s-her-name-now, or something?” Twilight nodded. “Hemsy, yes, but the e-mail I got from Celestia wasn’t very big on the details, so–” “Twilight, darling, did I just hear you use the words ‘e-mail’ and ‘from Celestia’ in the same sentence?” Rarity glared harshly at Twilight, while the other ponies were unable to decide whether they should be enjoying the show or just plain worry. The moment felt like an eternity, but ultimately Twilight came to a realisation: “Oh, horseapples.” By then, however, Rarity had already taken the express train to coma. Klapi was polite enough to wait for Rarity to wake up, which gave Twilight some time to work out some sense into the situation, even though everything seemed to point at crazy at the moment. But something had to make sense! It certainly wasn’t impossible for the Princess to send her electronic mail; it was the first instance, sure, but Spike was currently shooting Son of the Dragon Warrior in the North Island of Aotearoa and therefore not available. The lost scientist was a real issue, the opportunity really was golden, and the pilot had been there waiting for... the ambassadors. Twilight closed her eyes and massaged her temples. This had to be shrugged off for now. No decisions could be made before they talked with Claude. A lump in her throat made her cough violently – if Claude would even be there anymore. “Y’alright, Twi?” asked a concerned voice. “Just fine, Applejack. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat for good and turned back to the others. “Fluttershy can stay outside if she wants to, but not alone.” Her quick scan found a raised blue hoof. “I volunteer. Not a fan of tight spaces,” Rainbow Dash stated and got an approving nod from Twilight. Pinkie Pie and Applejack were glad to join her, and to her surprise even Rarity gave an encouraging response, though it was a little creepy that she didn’t mention the e-mail thing upon waking up. “If this place is going to kill me, it might as well do it indoors.” A little macabre, but encouraging all the same. Twilight apologized to Klapi for making him wait, but the young man looked just as content as upon arrival ten minutes ago. The door opened to a huge hall filled with steel walkways, round pools of different liquids, and tribesmen which all bore the same blue-red pattern and thus were only distinguishable by their hairdos and the knives they carried. The ponies set off to follow Klapi around in the hall. “Apila,” Klapi said, pointing to another man with long, curly hair and a small cheese knife. He waved and yelled something back at Klapi, who just smiled and went on. “Tenava,” said Klapi, his hand towards a large, dark man with a machete. He also waved at Klapi. “Kohina, Sekava, Sikana, Himoja...” Everyone they met, everyone they saw; Klapi told them who it was and nothing more. By the size of the place it wasn’t too hard to guess if the list would reach astronomical lengths. But they still couldn’t just wander off to wherever, both in fear of ending up lost and accidentally agitating the tribesmen, who’d so far been nice to them. Twilight figured the knives had some other purpose than fighting, or even crafting or cooking. Nevertheless, after spotting a very nasty-looking bonesaw on a burly man, Vanukas, she didn’t want to lock it in just yet. “This place’s more borin’ than a salt mine,” Applejack muttered quietly. Despite crossing multiple platforms and walkways in several different floors, Klapi was still walking them around the same hall. “You’ve missed the really fancy ones,” said Pinkie Pie. “Salt mines can be fancy? That’d be a first.” “Don’t be so negative, AJ. You gotta try and find the silver lining more often.” Pinkie beamed at Applejack, who only managed a faint smile. Whether Pinkie was bored herself or not it didn’t show in her demeanour. Whatever happens, Pinkie’ll smile at ya, Applejack thought. How’s that for a silver lining? Rarity interrupted them, still abnormally pleased with the scenery as well as the activity: “Oh, Pinkie Pie and your love of dead things. You’re a rare gem in a mountain of dirt – she plumped up her mane a bit – oh wait, that was me. Yes, Rarity.” Rarity turned immediately back to Klapi’s presentation. Pinkie Pie found Applejack giving her a concerned look, pointing at Rarity. For once she didn’t smile; just shook her head and whispered: “Yep, Rarity’s not okay.” “...Vasara, Kanuuna, Nauha... ya Brandon.” Klapi stopped; he didn’t wave, point or yell at any direction. Soon the ponies, Twilight included, let out a collective sigh of relief. “He’s done! Thank Celestia, he’s done!” cried Rarity. “I’m not too sure about the others, but this Brandon sounds awfully familiar,” Pinkie said, scratching the back of her head, “Applejack, didn’t you have a cousin called Brandon?” “No, I didn’t.” “You silly-filly. Have you forgot about your cousin Brandon?” “Pinkie, I haven’t. My cousin’s name’s Braeburn.” “You sure? Why would anypony have Braeburn for a name? You must write to Brandon before you forget you had a cousin at all!” “Shut up, you two!” Twilight yelled. She responded to Applejack’s and Pinkie’s confused gazes with an agitated frown. “I know you’re bored but please be quiet! I need to think. Did anypony notice which way Klapi was pointing, when he said Brandon?” Pinkie Pie and Applejack both shrugged, so Twilight turned to Rarity, who tried to look like she wasn’t paying attention to her company. Rarity answered their stares with a couple of sideways glances, but gave in as the others didn’t relent their pressure. “Well, I don’t know of any Brandon,” she began, her hoof lightly scraping the floor, “I was admiring the stylish gentleman leaning against the wall over there.” Twilight’s expression twisted from forced calmness to suppressed rage and back. “What?” Who?” Rarity turned her eyes toward the ceiling. “Well, you can’t expect me to marvel at these savages, now can you?” She pointed her hoof at a relatively plain wall a dozen metres from their position. It didn’t take long to indeed notice a stranger wearing western clothing leaning its back against the wall. The person was wearing a black boater hat and a pink shirt with his dark, casual suit that didn’t include a tie. Closer inspection revealed tinted glasses with small lenses that barely covered the eyes. No beard or moustache decorated the person’s face, but the chin looked fierce enough to belong to a male. “Be careful girls,” Twilight said silently, as the man stood still regardless of their approach. His position by the wall seemed relaxed but still much too tense for the man to be snoozing. “Excuse me, sir. Brandon.” Still nothing. Twilight stopped a couple of metres away from him, but Pinkie ran straight up to the man and immediately poked him to the stomach. Twilight held her breath and swallowed, and yet again nothing happened. “Girls, quickly! Get over here!” Pinkie said over her shoulder. “C’mon, he doesn’t bite. He doesn’t... anything!” The three of them – Klapi not far behind – stood in front of Pinkie Pie and Brandon, who wasn’t a man after all. Brandon was a hologram projected from a tiny gap between two sections of wall. The hologram image was arguably the most lifelike the ponies had ever seen, and technically very advanced. Pinkie unintentionally demonstrated this by waving her hoof in front of the projector: nothing happened to the picture, not until she covered over two thirds of the gap did it start to fade in quality. “Impressive,” Twilight uttered as her mind began racing. She turned around to Klapi and said: “Has Brandon always been here?” Klapi had just been born around Pan American’s technological assault, thus he probably wasn’t the best to answer even among the tribespeople. And of course, there was the language barrier. “Brandon vees us, heelyainen myoes. Mé tukatan Brandon.” Twilight shook her head. What was she even thinking? She tried to continue her brainstorming, but Applejack interrupted her thought: “That wasn’t all, folks. I found a hidden door. I can barely see the hinges, but it opens outward.” Twilight and Rarity stared at her silently, while Pinkie was busy striking poses with holo-Brandon. “Rarity? Twilight? There’s no handle. And it opens outward.” “Oh right,” the unicorns said in unison and engulfed a piece of the wall in their purple and blue auras. Applejack was right and something budged, though the combined effort of the two opened the door all the way and violently smashed it into the wall right next to holo-Brandon. The event turned a few heads, but the prevalent noise in the hall quickly drowned all clatter. The doorway was the same size as the ones humans normally built, and so was the corridor it led to. The walls and ceiling were plain, and without the dim, white light coming from a few optical fibres in the ceiling it would’ve been pitch black. Twilight could make out another light source maybe fifty metres down into the corridor. “Twilight, I know that look of yours. You want us to go in there.” Rarity’s remark brought a smirk on Twilight’s muzzle. “Really? Are you that sure about it?” “Just look at Klapi now. It’s crystal clear he didn’t know this passage existed.” Klapi’s pursed lips and anxiously rolling eyes supported Twilight’s theory. She continued, a kind of fire burning in her eyes: “Think of the secrets we’re about to reveal. It’s beyond amazing!” “We know what you mean, but a posthumous trophy is not as amazing as it sounds like,” said Rarity, but Twilight didn’t as much as acknowledge her. “We’re going!” she proclaimed. “Now where’s Pinkie Pie?” “I’m right here,” said a muffled voice, “between the wall and the door. In a veeery tight space.” After cracking back the door, scooping Pinkie from it, and making sure she hadn’t caught any serious injuries, the four ponies made their way into the corridor. “Y’know what would be real fun?” Pinkie said, a little shaky. “If Klapi, instead of following us, just slammed the door shut and ran!” Rarity offered a response: “Pinkie dear, you have such a strange way with” – the door slammed shut – “fun.” As expected, some disorder followed: Applejack tried pushing the door open, but it didn’t move despite her best efforts, and Rarity yelled at Pinkie Pie for causing everything with her thoughtless comments. Pinkie was happy that she’d been right and ignored Rarity. All Twilight did was gaze upon the space they were now in. Going through was their plan all along – whether the door was open or not made no difference to her. The optical fibres gave out more light than it had first appeared, thus the true colours of the corridor quickly revealed themselves. It wasn’t a corridor at all but another hall with low ceiling. Everywhere was plain white and silent; like they were standing in nothingness. As the ponies’ own noise died, they could make out a faint hum around them. Twilight walked slowly toward the light in the room’s opposite end. Only a thin strip of the hall was lit, which made the ponies move in a relatively straight line. It took them about a minute to reach the middle of the hall, which suddenly caused the hum to increase significantly. The light in the back as well as the optical fibres disappeared in a burst of white light from the surroundings that rendering the ponies blind and confused. However, it wasn’t bright enough to keep them blind for long. The ponies managed to see a short glimpse of millions of tiny red, blue, and green beams of light crisscrossing the space before settling down and forming a picture of a handsome, young man: holo-Brandon. The image was bigger than the one in the large hall, but the extremely fine detail remained. Pompous orchestrated music filled every invisible corner of the hall, and the image came to life. “Does life wear you down? Does time always seem to run out? When you sleep? When you work? Do you long for that extra bounce?” Brandon’s deep, graceful voice was beyond comparison. It highlighted the man’s already apparent ethereal beauty as he walked around the ponies, letting an unseen breeze fly through every square-centimetre of his figure and cause immeasurably complex ripples across the fabrics in his clothes. He was marvel embodied. Every inch of him screamed perfection. “I’m Brandon Bayer, and I’m here with a solution.” Pinkie, Rarity, and even Applejack to some extent were all trying to find some bits to throw at the man no matter the product he was advertising. Twilight stayed sceptical with her objective point of view, though noticing a tiny bit of drool in the corner of Rarity’s mouth made it tougher. “Take a sip of Orango.” Brandon produced a soda can with the same blue-red pattern in the label that the tribesmen had painted on themselves. “Vitamins! Minerals! Proteins! Three cans a day is all you need to live a healthy life.” He opened the can, and the video zoomed in to show it in slow motion. The orange liquid poured into a glass with ice and zoomed out again. “Orango. It’s you, but on a good day.” Brandon disappeared, but the hall stayed brightly lit. “Now he’s what I call something,” said Rarity and wiped her muzzle clean with her hoof. “I reckon we should get outta here, the light’s givin’ me a headache,” said Applejack. “Hm, maybe not yet.” Twilight mused. “There could be other videos.” “That’s what I’m afraid of. It could play the theme song.” Applejack glanced at Pinkie, who of course got all excited about the possibility of hearing a new song. “I know what you’re thinkin’, Pinkie, but for all our sakes we should get movin’. You can come back here later.” “Fine,” Pinkie Pie and Twilight said. Two and a half seconds later an orange-flavoured hell broke loose. Orango! Orango! Where you goin’ when you’re around refreshments? Orango! Orango! Nothing takes the cake like you know it! Orango! Orango! King of the drinks. It’s drink of the kings! Orango! Orango! “Get runnin’! It plays on for eighteen minutes!” They galloped toward the door thankfully marked with a green exit light. Pinkie – though escaping like the rest – was also thankful for such an easy-to-learn chorus.
