The Conversion Bureau: Galvanized

Chapter 3

Ten days after Samantha had closed the door behind her, Kevin was opening it to see his younger sister on the doorstep with a pale red unicorn stallion at her side.

“Hey, there she is!” said Kevin as Shelly jumped through the doorway to hug him. The stallion waited patiently to be invited in.

“Brooooheim!” cried Shelly into Kevin’s ear, making him wince for a couple of reasons. “Good to see you, and good to see you haven’t burned the place down yet.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Kevin as the two separated. He looked to the unicorn. “Who’s this?”

Shelly backed up and knelt beside the stallion, hugging his barrel to her. “Kev, this is Rampart, a friend I made at school.”

Rampart smiled in embarrassment and looked up at Kevin, holding out a hoof. “It’s great to finally meet you, Kevin,” he said. “Shelly’s had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“Oh, that means she hasn’t been saying much, eh?” Kevin shook Rampart’s hoof while the pony chuckled. “Come on in.” He stepped to one side, allowing the two to enter the living room, and pulled Shelly’s bags inside before shutting the door behind them.

Rampart sniffed the air as he came in. Humans didn’t generally notice, and when they did, they didn’t seem to mind. There had been a pony in the house—a mare—either very long ago or very briefly. Her scent was too faint to tell what type of pony she’d been. There was also the sweet, sharp smell of alcohol coming from the top of the stairs. Rampart snuck a glance at Kevin as he picked up one of his sister’s bags.

Shelly threw herself onto the couch and wiggled into a comfortable position. “Ah, man, it’s good to be back,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m just gonna sleep here all summer, okay? Wake me up the day before classes start.”

“Haha, yeah, right,” deadpanned Kevin, dropping the bag he was holding at the foot of the stairs (right where Samantha’s Conversion-Bureau bag had been). “Get up, you bum, and go get settled in. You brought a guest, which means we gotta entertain.” He turned to Rampart. “What’re you drinking? I’ve got water, grape juice, orange juice, Sprite, bourbon, vodk—”

Rampart held up a hoof, smiling nervously. “Er, water will be just fine, thank you.”

“Water it is.”

Shelly stood back up and gathered her things while Kevin walked to the kitchen. Rampart followed him. Kevin stopped at the cabinets and turned around.

“Uh, I actually… don’t know…” he cleared his throat. “Do ponies use glasses to drink, or… like, bowls?”

Rampart smiled warmly, but in the back of his mind he wondered how this never came up with the mare who had been here. “We can use glasses just fine,” he said. “Nothing about them confounds us, to my knowledge.”

“Right,” said Kevin, turning back around and opening the cabinet. “Okay, glasses. Got it.” After collecting a glass, he then pulled a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator and poured Rampart a generous amount. Kevin was surprised to see Rampart easily grasp the glass with a single hoof and then walk alongside him on three legs back to the living room.

“How do you do that?” he asked the pony.

Rampart arched an eyebrow. “How do I hold a glass?”

“Yeah, um…”

Kevin stopped to gesture to the couch. “Please.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Rampart climbed onto the couch and tucked his free legs under him. Kevin sat on the opposite end, leaving a cushion between them. “Well, we just… if you wanna hold something in a hoof, you just, like… pick it up? Sorry, I’ve actually never had to think about how to explain such a thing before.”

Kevin held up a hand. “Oh, no no, that’s okay, it’s just… I guess it’s kind of weird of me to ask. Sorry.”

Shelly came bounding down the stairs and sat down with a bounce between her brother and her friend. “Last summer before graduation! Go Huskers!” she cheered, throwing an arm around Kevin. Then her face fell as she remembered seeing the PER attack on the news. “Oh my god, that’s right, Kevin! I heard about what happened at Delta, are you okay?”

Kevin shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I? I was one of, like, six people who didn’t get hit.”

Shelly whistled and shook her head. “Talk about your close calls, huh?”

Rampart sipped his water and listened quietly while Kevin spoke. “Well, in a way, they still got me: Delta’s closing this office. Got my pink slip in the mail and everything.”

Her jaw fell. “You’re kidding me! You’re out of a job? Just like that?”

He shrugged. “I had an inkling it might happen. Building owner saw an opportunity to hike the rent due to ‘security and preventative costs,’ and Delta said ‘screw that, we’re not paying,’ so they pulled up stakes. If I wanted to keep working for them I’d have to compete with everyone else to get one of the few open positions up in Lincoln. I’m not gonna bother.”

“Aw, shit, Kev, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me too.”

“What’re you gonna do for money?”

Kevin scratched his temple. “Well, I’ve still got my share of Mom and Dad’s inheritance socked away in savings, that’ll do for a while. I also… well. Never mind.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “No ‘never mind,’ Kev. Tell me.”

He lifted his head and looked over at Shelly, making momentary eye contact with Rampart just past her. “Sam and I broke up. Day of the attack.”

Shelly covered her mouth with her hands. “Jesus Christ, Kev, really?”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Get this, Shel: she told me she was going to a spa with Kathy for two weeks, right? Well, come to find out she actually went to Omaha and got converted. Both of ‘em did! Kathy’s now named ‘Night Dancer’ or some shit and Sam… hell, maybe she’s changed her name by now, who knows.”

Rampart’s ears perked up at the mention of conversion, and he saw that Kevin noticed it.

“So yeah, she came to my office right after the attack had happened, as a pony, and then once we got home she started playing like I was blowing it out of proportion! She wasn’t the same, Shel, I’m telling you, she was… it was like the idea of people just becoming ponies didn’t bother her at all, and that Barrier’s now just the most harmless thing you could ever imagine.

“Anyway, I was going to propose to her in a few months, but… now I’m thinking I’ll just sell the ring and get some money for the bills.”

Shelly and Rampart exchanged a look, then Shelly squeezed her brother’s shoulder. “Kev… I’m sorry to hear all that. I really am. You didn’t tell me you were planning on getting engaged!”

Kevin shot her a wan smile. “I know, you Shel,” he said. “You’re a blabber. You’d blab. You wouldn’t mean to, but it’d happen.”

She sighed. “Look, I haven’t dropped my scholarship money on my senior year yet. I could funnel it to you, put off graduation for a year while you look f—”

“No!” said Kevin immediately. “It sucks, yeah, but I don’t want this affecting you or what you’re doing. Don’t change things around just because of what’s going on with me. I’ll bounce back. Hell, I might already have a new job before you even go back.

“But enough about this,” he went on. “The farmer’s market is in town today, and I’ll go pick up some stuff for dinner.” He stood and looked to Rampart while diving into his pockets for his car keys. “What’s your pleasure? No meat, right? I may not know much about ponies, but I remember you guys don’t eat meat.”

Rampart smiled at him. “We don’t, no,” he said. “Say, would you mind terribly if I came along? I’ve never been to a human farmer’s market before and I'd kind of like to check it out. It’ll also let me see what’s available.”

“Sure, it’s fine with me,” he said. “You coming too, Shel?”

She folded her arms and smiled serenely. “Nah, I’ll let you boys get your bonding time in. I’ve gotta unpack anyway.” She shuddered. “Sleeping in Mom and Dad’s bed, though, it’s just...”

“Yeah,” said Kevin. “Bet you regret letting Dad turn your room into a rec room now, huh?” He managed a smile, but it was a weak one. “You were so sure you were done with this place forever. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to get out of this house and off on my own, it’ll be so great—’”

“Yeah yeah, I thought you were leaving,” she said, springing up and pushing him towards the door.

“—gonna be my own person finally and live free of your rules—”

“Out!” she shouted. Rampart set his empty glass on an end table and trotted after them.

*    *    *

The late-afternoon sun cast the strip in deep orange as Kevin looked out over the two-block length of stalls and stands. The Beatrice Farmer’s Market set up every Saturday from 2PM to 6PM on the blocked-off section of 5th Street between Court and Bell. Over the past few months, Kevin had noticed more and more ponies in the crowd, browsing the stalls and chatting with the local growers. They were still a huge minority, but every week there seemed to be just a few more than the week before, dotting the throngs with colorful coats that made them easy to spot.

“There are places much like this in Equestria,” said Rampart as they leisurely walked down one side of the market, “except they’re open every day out of necessity.”

“In Equestria?” said Kevin. “You’ve been there?”

Rampart laughed, and his laugh was free of mockery. “I should think so!” he said. “I’m from Equestria. Native born.”

“Oh! Wow. I thought you were… you know, some college kid Shelly already knew who converted.”

The little unicorn grinned and shook his head, his red mane swishing back and forth over his neck. “Nope! I’m actually here on royal business. Any native Equestrian you’re likely to run into at this early stage is probably here in some official capacity. Their Royal Highnesses haven’t yet blessed off on Earth tourism until the safety of their subjects can be assured… and—this is just my theory, but—I think they don’t want ponies heading to places that don’t yet have Bureaus set up.”

As if to underscore the statement, Kevin and Rampart passed by a dour-looking celery grower who had a plywood sign propped up against his stand which read “PONY SERVICE REFUSED” in dripping black spray-painted letters. Kevin didn’t know why, but he put his hands in his pockets. Rampart simply chose to look away at the suddenly more interesting stalls across the street.

“Did Shelly happen to tell you the deal with our parents?” asked Kevin after a few moments of walking in silence.

“Not in detail, but she did tell me what happened,” replied Rampart, his ears drooping. “I mean, everypony knows about the Queen Mary 2 and Emergence, but… you and Shelly are the first humans I’ve met who’ve been directly affected by it.”

“Well, if you care for more detail, yeah, they were on that ship,” said Kevin, looking ahead at nothing in particular. “They were on a cruise from Southampton to New York City, trans-Atlantic for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. About halfway there, the Barrier, just… poof, there it was, and pow, there they went. All that ocean, and the hundred miles they were in happened to be the hundred miles the Barrier took as its foothold.” He chuckled unevenly. “I mean, heh, what’re the odds, right?”

Rampart looked up at him sadly, his ears still down. “Kevin, you have my heartfelt condolences over the loss of your parents. It wasn’t something anypony ever inten—”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s fine,” said Kevin. After a moment’s consideration, he pulled a hand from his pocket. “Well, I mean, truthfully it’s not fine, it fucked me up—”

Rampart winced at the word, gritting his teeth a bit. Hearing humans swear felt like nails on a chalkboard to him, or a bug bite in a spot impossible to reach.

“—sorry,” continued Kevin. “It messed me up pretty bad, but what I’m trying to get at is that yeah, that happened, and I broke up with Samantha after she went pony without warning me, but I don’t want you to think I’m one of those people.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“I understand,” said Rampart slowly. He wondered if Kevin even really had his feelings sorted out all that well. “I’m a member of the Royal Guard back in Equestria, and before I shipped out here with some other comrades we got a briefing on the fringe groups already springing up, the HLF and the PER and whatnot. Princess Luna has assured everypony on both worlds time and again that the PER do not reflect nor represent the wishes of the Crown, and their actions are wholly condemned by the Equestrian diarchy.”

“I think I remember hearing about that,” said Kevin, “but I try to limit my intake of news these days.” He nodded at a small stand they were quickly approaching. “Let’s stop here,” he said. “I know this guy.”

Rampart looked up at the older human standing behind crates of tomatoes lining a long plastic folding table. Humans had small, piercing predators’ eyes which were sometimes hard to read without body language to help. His instincts wouldn’t let him figure out what to make of the man until he broke into a smile and shook Kevin’s hand.

“Mr. Kevin! Good to see you,” said the old man.

Kevin smiled back and gestured to the unicorn next to him. “Mr. Trossbach, this is Rampart, a friend of my sister’s.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trossbach,” said Rampart.

The farmer snorted, the smile still on his face. “‘Jerry’ will do just fine, thank you,” he said. “I’ve known the Stone kids since they were little enough to have ridden on your back, Rampart, and they ain’t never stopped callin’ me Mr. Trossbach, so don’t you mind what Kevin and Shelly do. At any rate, the pleasure’s mine.”

“We’re here for some tomatoes, Mr. Trossbach, and some carrots, and…” Kevin leaned to one side to look behind Jerry. “Say, where’s your cold trailer?”

Jerry pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and put it in his mouth. “About that… I’ll be scaling the meat-selling back to every other week, though to be honest I’d only give it a month, maybe two before it’s gone altogether.”

Kevin’s brow furrowed. “You won’t be selling meat anymore?” he asked. “Why not?”

Jerry nodded to the pony and switched the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Equestria’s been busy courtin’ us farmers,” he said. “I know they got princesses and all, but man, they must be plenty rich to do what they’re doin’.”

Rampart blinked, unsure of what the tall old man was talking about. “W-what are they doing, Jerry?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware the Crown was even dealing with human farmers.”

“They’re buyin’ out all the meat subsidies,” said Jerry, “at least the ones ‘round here, but I can’t imagine it’d be much different in other states. They’re offering the government rates plus twenty percent! That ain’t much to sneeze at right there.”

Kevin scratched the back of his head. “That’s… wow, that’s a hell of a thing, Mr. Trossbach.”

Jerry leaned on his table. “Ain’t it just?” He looked up and down the row before continuing. “Now, I’m sure some folks won’t be getting on board, what with who’s doing the offering and everything, but… sorry, Kevin, that kind of money talks loud, you know?”

“No, I get it,” said Kevin. “Can’t say I’d do different in your position.” He looked down at Rampart. “Invisible hoof of the free market, right?” Rampart managed a halfhearted chuckle.

“All the same, expect meat prices to go through the roof in about a month,” said Jerry.

“I’ll be sure to stock up when I see you next week,” said Kevin with a nod. “Heck, I might buy out your stock.”

“Wouldn’t hurt my feelings none if you did,” said Jerry. “But anyway, that was tomatoes, carrots… anything else for you boys? Got some lettuce I’m trying to get rid of. Cut you a deal.”

“Good on lettuce, sorry,” said Kevin. “Corn too.”

Jerry handed Kevin some plastic bags. Rampart and his host then selected the produce they wanted from the stall and gave it to Jerry to weigh. As Kevin fished out his money to pay, Jerry remembered something.

“Oh! Before you fellas skedaddle, I got something to show you, Kevin.” Jerry reached into his jeans pocket and produced a single golden coin in his hand. “Take a gander at that,” he said. “This is what we’re gettin’ paid in! Equestrian bits. This is almost pure gold!” He grinned and bit down on the edge of the coin, showing it to Kevin once more. “Look at that: bite marks! And I hardly bit down at all! This’ll be nice to have once it finally comes time to convert. I don’t know how far a bit goes in Equestria, but I like the idea of me ‘n Millicent being able to retire after all this is done.”

Kevin stiffened a bit. “We’re gonna lose you, Mr. Trossbach?” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice as he counted out the price of the vegetables. “When?”

“Probably when we can’t no longer safely stay at the farm,” said Jerry. “Seems as good a time as any. So, probably a while yet.

“And don’t say ‘lose’ like that!” he grumbled. “Seesh, you’re makin’ it sound like I’ll be dyin’ or something.”

“I can’t imagine Their Royal Highnesses would be anything less than generous with compensation for willingly changing the way you do business while still human,” said Rampart. “I’m confident that you’ll be quite comfortable in Equestria with your earnings, Jerry.”

Jerry smiled as he accepted Kevin’s money. “Well, that’s something I don’t mind hearing right there,” he said. “Thanks much and enjoy. Come again!” Kevin and Rampart both waved as they walked away, with Kevin holding the plastic bags of vegetables.

“I guess it’s salads all around tonight,” said Kevin. “Do you have salad dressing in Equestria?”

Rampart gave a haughty scoff. “Hah, are you kidding? We have it elevated to an art form. Why, the right dressing can completely transform any combination of edible plant you’d care to name!”

Kevin got busy challenging Rampart to pair various human-style salads with Equestrian dressings as they purchased the rest of the ingredients they needed. By the time they got to the end of the market strip, Kevin had two full bags in each hand and Rampart had pitched in, carrying one in his mouth.

“There’s one last stop I’ve got to make,” said Kevin, “and it’s right at the corner here. One more food group I need for myself.”

Rampart looked up at the faded sign “Corner Liquors” hanging above a recessed door directly on the corner of the building facing the intersection. The windows were covered in sun-bleached advertisements for various beers and spirits, with names completely alien and nonsensical to him. He couldn’t guess at what anything shown must have tasted like, much less how some of it was made or from what. The black wrought-iron bars over the windows complemented the neglected ads rather well, he reasoned.

“Coming in?” asked Kevin from the doorway. Rampart snapped out of it and realized he’d been hesitating on the sidewalk.

“Oh, uh, no, I’ll just stay out here, if that’s all right,” the unicorn said.

Kevin shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll just be a minute.” He turned and disappeared inside.

While the cashier rang up his Sailor Jerry’s and a two-liter of Coke, Kevin watched the ancient 19-inch tube TV above the cigarette rack. The volume was turned down a bit, but he could hear the anchor talking over establishing shots of Boston with the card

Real Estate Crash in Boston & NYC

Residents, Businesses Already Fleeing East Coast

along the bottom.

“Hell of a thing, ain’t it?” Kevin said absently to the clerk, not looking away from the TV. The clerk made a noncommittal grunt in reply and gave Kevin his amount owed.

Once back outside, with his purchase in a brown paper bag under his arm, Kevin nodded to Rampart with a smile on his face.

“Okay,” he said, “now that I know I’m not gonna go thirsty, let’s get back.”

Rampart regarded the brown bag for a moment before giving an uneasy smile and a slight nod.

*    *    *

Kevin noticed that Rampart was much more practiced at sitting in human chairs than Samantha had been.

Shelly set a wooden salad bowl on the table before the pony and sat down with her own bowl across from him. Once the three of them were settled, they dug in, eating in silence for a few awkward moments.

Kevin decided to break the ice. “Shel,” he began around a mouthful of lettuce and shredded cheese, “did you know old man Trossbach and his wife have decided to go pony?”

“They have?” said Shelly. She looked down at her salad and stabbed it morosely with a fork. “Aw. Well, good for them, but… I’m gonna miss them.”

Rampart laughed. “I don’t think he’d want to hear you saying that, Shel,” he said. “He told Kevin he made it sound like he was dying!”

She giggled and looked to Kevin, who smiled sheepishly in confirmation. “Yep, he said that all right.”

“You needn’t worry,” Rampart went on with a smile. “You’ll be able to visit them as much as you like once you go to Equestria yourselves.”

Kevin’s hand whitened around the fork and he ran his tongue along his teeth. Rampart quietly cleared his throat and looked away, his smile gone. Shelly, reading the mood, patted her brother’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” said Kevin. “It’s my own issues, I know that. Sam was right when she said it’s nobody’s fault, but… I can’t understand why people would throw themselves at that Barrier already.”

Shelly sighed. “Kevin—”

“I mean we don’t know what’s gonna happen! Maybe it’ll stop growing, maybe it’ll start shrinking! What if people get stuck here as ponies, huh? What if native ponies get stuck here away from Equestria? Like...” He chuckled once. “L-like how much do we really know, right? It’s not unreasonable to worry about stuff like that, is it?” He looked to Rampart for affirmation.

The pale red unicorn raised his eyebrows and stammered over his salad, his eyes unwilling to make contact with Kevin’s. “I, uh… what can I say, really? Their Royal Highnesses are confident that the Barrier will continue to grow and human scientists have collaborated with them on the development of the conversion agent, no small undertaking itself. As a loyal subject of the Crown and a Royal Guardspony, I can do no less than trust them absolutely. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have volunteered to come here to your world.”

Kevin shook his head slowly. “All I see when I look at that Barrier is how it killed over three thousand people just like that. I don’t know how I’m gonna get past that and trust anything to do with it, but...”

He trailed off. Then his brow knit and he looked up again, at Rampart. “That’s right,” he said, “you mentioned you were here on royal business. What royal business is there at UNL?”

Rampart let out a breath. Here went nothing. “I’m a headhunter,” he said. “There’s a Conversion Bureau due to open in Lincoln and I’m approaching students nearing the end of their education about either moving to work in the Bureau after graduation or possibly converting and then bringing their unique human-style talents and education to Equestria.”

“So Princess Celestia’s not only getting the farmers dancing to her tune, she’s also trying to induce brain-drain in human societies,” said Kevin, trying to keep calm. “She’s sounding better and better. I can see why you trust her so much.”

Rampart’s ears drooped. Shelly pulled her hand away from Kevin and glared at him.

“Kev, that’s not fair,” she said. “You asked and Rampart answered truthfully.”

“Why can’t you ponies just leave us alone?” asked Kevin. “I don’t mean ‘ponies get out,’ I mean just present us with the choice to convert and then leave it at that. Don’t you realize that the more you actively push people to convert, the harder it’s going to make life for the rest of us? At what point does it stop being politicking and start being the kind of stuff the PER does?”

“I’d say around the time we just start splattering potion everywhere,” said Rampart, a bit of chill in his voice. “Nothing being done is illegal; the princesses have been very careful not to overstep their bounds on this side of the Barrier. We’re injecting money and value into your economies and we’re opening up new opportunities for your best and brightest to consider pursuing. It’s all choice, none of it is edict or mandated.”

“It’s just the way things are now, huh?” said Kevin.

Rampart nodded. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Kevin, but yes, it’s the way our worlds are going. Things are changing over in Equestria too, because of this, and I’m sure there are many ponies who feel the same way you do, just in the other direction.”

“Speaking of other ponies,” said Shelly, “I want to invite Stanza to stay here for a while. She’ll need a place after the dorms close up and I think Kevin could do with a bit more conversation with ponies to help him work through his stuff.”

“Fine,” said Kevin with a wave of his hand, “I don’t care, we’ve got room, just don’t blame me if I drive her off somehow. I seem to be good at that.”

“Stanza is one of the other volunteers at the university,” explained Rampart. “She’s native too, and she’s got her head screwed on straight, don’t you worry. If anypony can help you warm up to the way things are going, Kevin, she can.”

“All right,” said Kevin. “She’s welcome to try. I don’t think I could do it on my own.”

The conversation died with that, and they finished the rest of their salads quietly. Afterwards, Shelly took Rampart to see a movie and Kevin went upstairs to get better acquainted with the finer points of combining rum and Coke.

His record improved slightly; that night, he made it all the way into bed.