Broken Gears

Chapters

1: Pieces
2: Cracked
3: Fragments
4: Splinters

1: Pieces

It was an oddly painful feeling with the connection severed. Severed was the only word that Copper could think of that justified his feeling. Like a part of him was hacked off, as if he had lost something that he would never get back. He wouldn't get it back. He could never get it back and that was a crushing feeling. An entire life gone in an instance. And now the thoughts were pushing in. Without the other world, without his other self, his real self, the thoughts and past of this body were pushing on him. Clawing at the back door of his mind. Now there was nothing to prove it had all happened. It was just a dream.

“Are you all right?” Scootaloo's voice brought him back from his thoughts. He had forgotten where they were going. There was concern in her eyes, the kind of worry that Copper had taken for granted several times.

“I'm...fine. I think,” he said as he stared off down the street. “Is it always so foggy?”

“This time of year, I think.” They had been walking through a fairly light fog, but it limited their sight to a few blocks away. “But it's been a while since I've been here.”

London was an odd city, unlike something Copper had seen yet familiar. It was quite lively during the day, but this early in the morning it was quite quiet. The sun had not even risen yet. Only a car coming by every so often even gave the hint that they were not the only ones there. It was peaceful. An odd shudder ran down his spine as they turned a corner and the fog was a bright yellow red. “That's a fire,” Copper said as he immediately started jogging.

“Is that-” They saw the blaze now, the entire building engulfed in flames. There was, what Copper learned later, a fire truck outside and several firefighters who were trying to control the blaze and keep it from spreading to other buildings.

Copper couldn't pull his eyes from it. The flames. The heat. The fire. The crackling noise of wood. Flashes of things hit his consciousness. The distant sound of explosions. He shook his head and tried to focus. For a moment he saw a little filly, standing beside him. Covered in soot and blood with terrified eyes. He blinked and the vision was replaced by Scootaloo, who was staring at the flames. There was an ache on his back; a painfully vacant feeling as though he'd just lost something important.

He shook himself and took several deep breaths as he looked around. He spotted the old pony who worked in the building, he was leaning against the back of the truck, covered in soot and wrapped in a blanket. Copper rushed towards him, trying to seek a distraction from these clawing memories. “What happened?” Copper said as he came up to him. The old pony had been kind during the brief interaction they had had. He was polite, even though it was obviously forced.

“D-don't know,” he said and coughed. “Building just...was going up in flames...some firefighter pulled me out...” Copper knew the pony was in shock, he'd seen it before.

“Where's Emily?” Copper said slowly, trying to pull the pony's attention.

“Just...all up in flames.” There was a far away look in his eyes.

“Focus.” Copper tried to get in the the gaze. “Emily. Where is Emily?”

“Heat and flames...”

He rushed the building. There were screams of, “Stop!” and, “What are you doing?!”

The door was wide open and the flames lapped around him as he ran through the building. He knew where Emily was being stored, across the building in a back storeroom. Something collapsed in a room as he ran past and he rounded the last corner to find the door open. The door had been locked. The pony had said he always kept it locked. The room was burned worse than the rest as though it had been the source of the flames, but the fire had run out of things to burn. Something skittered across the floor as he moved to where Emily was.

He stopped and crouched down, covering his mouth with his coat to keep from breathing more smoke. Bits of hot metal covered the floor. Part of a broken gear had somehow managed to avoid being melted in the heat. When he looked around a shelf he saw more pieces of metal, most of it melted. He stood slowly, his mind working quickly through all of the likely possibilities. “Await retrieval...” Copper muttered as he stared at the destroyed heap of a machine.

The noise of skittering pieces of metal behind him caused him to turn, and what he saw caused him to leap back as a long blade lashed through the air. It was pony in shape and size, but metallic. Its assault did not stop as it came at him again, swiping and slashing. It was far more graceful than Emily had been, smooth and fluid motions. Copper would have enjoyed watching it move if it was not trying its hardest to stab him. He ducked and kicked out the bottom of the shelf at his side, which due to its fire weakened state collapsed between him and the clockwork. The clockwork took several steps back.

“What model Emily are you?” Copper asked, obviously seeing similarities in appearance to the Emily he had studied.

It remained silent.

“Rewriting your database on me? Or taking notes?” He was trying to work out a way to defend himself. “I'll make you a deal, tell me your model and I'll tell you who I am.”

“You are Copper Feather,” the clockwork said. The voice caught him off guard, it was far more musical than Emily's had been. It was moving from left to right as it calculated angles. Copper knew it was doing that because he was doing the same.

“Ah, yes. Technically I am.” He set his feet, having figured out his course of action. “But I'm a completely different kind of pony than the Copper in your little file.” He rushed forward, leaping over the ruins of the shelf. He spun to his right as the knife thrust at where he would be if he kept going and he barreled into the clockwork. It went down oddly easily; it was built light like the other Emily. He regained his balance quickly and slammed his heel down, crushing the area just above the elbow of the knife hand. It had underestimated him.

“Error-” There was a hiss from the arm as it tried to move it and he slammed his heel down again on the clockworks chest, causing it to collapse inward. That's where its main engine was; what was keeping it going. “E-error...” It was twitching, trying to move as steam escaped from cracks in its chest. Immediately he felt immense regret. It was a beautiful piece of machinery and he felt horrible for what he had just done to it.

“Tell me your model number and why you destroyed the Emily Mark Twelve Point Five Version B.” It stared at him with an expression that Copper couldn't figure out if it was simulated fear or actual fear.

“Emily Mark F-Fifteen Point Th-Three... Mission O-Objective...Eliminate f-failed m-m-model.” He could see the damage to its inner workings was done and it was dying.

He reached down, placing his hand against her cheek with a tenderness that surprised even him. The metal was hot to the touch, as if she had a fever. Someone had taken immense care to mold every feature and curve of her face. Her eyes slowly lost the light that they had, winking out.

Something crashed above him and without thinking he scooped up the Emily and ran. He hit the corner a tad hard and felt the wall buckle when he hit it and something else crumbled as he ran. It was a straight shot to the door and he could see it open. The air was cold and burned as he exited. He shook himself as he walked back over to the firetruck and laid the Emily down beside it. There were quite a lot of people around him. “Am I on fire?” he asked as he checked himself, slightly out of breath and coughing quite a bit. As far as he could tell he was just a bit charred and covered in soot.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Scootaloo screamed as she pounded on his chest. “That is a burning building! A burning building, Copper! On fire!” He grabbed her wrists gently to stop her from hitting him.

“I know.” He looked down at her, several figures were looking down at the new Emily. “I think that's what started the fire.”

One of the griffons gave a whistle. “Now that's a fancy clockwork.” He nudged it with his foot. “Is it dead?”

“Broken and off,” Copper said as Scootaloo pulled away from him, folding her arms and walked a bit away. Copper made sure to keep an eye on her. "So yes, dead."

“You know a lot about clockworks, American?” Of course his accent, or lack there of, was obvious.

“Yes, that's why I'm here. It's illegal over there, so I have to come here to do any real research.” Copper knelt down beside the Emily, looking it over.

“Ever seen one this complicated?” The fire was apparently under control, since several of the firefighters were here asking him questions.

“Yes, one other. Though this one appears to be a newer model...” Copper felt that there were a lot more ponies around than when he had gone into the building. “Scootaloo, come over here.”

She gave him an annoyed look, but didn't argue as she came over. “What?”

“This is a Mark Fifteen. Notice anything different about it?” She glared down at the clockwork, her brow furrowed. “Focus on the face.”

“It's...different,” she said and then leaned in a bit.

“She's more expressive. Why would somepony spend so much time on a clockworks expression, when it's built to kill?” He lifted up the wrist, it was the exact same design of retractable blade and with a slight twist there was a loud shink. The crowd backed away. “Same blade design...odd...”

“Your Detective side is showing,” she said as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

That made him smile. “Yes well, I am a Detective, more or less.”

“Without jurisdiction around here,” Scootaloo added as the crowd looked at Copper. “Isn't that right, Officer?”

“Quite right.” Copper looked up at the pony who was speaking, immediately recognizing the officer who had come knocking at Roseluck's shop. “Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Private Detective.”

“This is where I was staying,” Copper said as he stood up, dusting off a bit of soot.

“A warehouse...why am I not surprised. Where's your Interpol buddy, hm?” The officer looked around.

“I'm afraid he had other business to attend to,” he said as he watched the officer. There were quite a lot of police there he noticed.

“I'm sure he did... So what's this about you thinking this clockwork started the fire?” The officer was now leaning down and examining Emily.

“I had one similar to it in my possession.” Copper felt it would not be wise to try and hide anything, this pony could be quite helpful. “I was attempting to track down its creator, who I was informed was in London.”

“And why are you so fixed on finding the creator?”

He saw the look Scootaloo gave him out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. “Attempted murder and kidnapping.” The officer stared up at him, quite shocked. Copper pulled back his shirt a bit, revealing the stab wound, which was still healing. “The other one had attempted to kill me in order to kidnap my associate here.” He gestured to Scootaloo as he fixed his shirt. “Frankly, I take things like that rather personally.”

“Rrrriiight. Well...I'm afraid that we're going to have to take you two and your...clockwork into custody.” The officer stood up and Copper saw how several of them moved towards him.

“Oh of course, if you must. Though it quite honestly will be a waste of time on everyponies part. Is that your car there?” Copper gestured at one of the police cars.

The officer didn't look away. “Yes, after you.”

Copper sat down in the car and moved over so that Scootaloo could get in as well. She gave his shoulder a rather hard hit. “Way to go. Now we've been arrested and our passports went up in flames in that building! Not to mention all of our stuff. My clothes, Copper. All of my clothes went up in flames!”

“Clothes can be replaced.” He gazed out the window and around the area. “This is our chance to get out of here and I'm going to take it.” They were loading the clockwork into another vehicle. He hoped they would make it to the police station. “We're in the Creators territory now and I wouldn't be surprised if there are more clockworks in the area.” The officer got into the car. “So just sit back, and enjoy the ride,” he said as he gave Scootaloo a smile.

It was obvious that she was unhappy. “Chrysalis is not going to be happy about you getting arrested,” she said with a loud harrumph. Copper noticed how the second officer in the car seemed to flinch ever so slightly.

“Oh I'm not worried about her.” He watched the back of the two ponies as the car took off. “All it'll take is one phone call and we'll be fine. You have his number, right?”

“Who- oh.” She smiled slightly. “Yeah I know his number.” She suddenly seemed to feel a lot more comfortable about the situation.

Copper leaned forward, mumbling to the passenger officer as the other was preoccupied with the car radio, talking to someone back at the station. “If you'd be so kind, dear changeling, to contact Chrysalis and inform her of our predicament,” Copper watched as the pony went rigid as he spoke, “I would very much appreciate it.” It felt like second nature to Copper to be able to pick them out of crowds. Then leaned back in the seat as he watched the passenger officer practically melt into his seat, the driver didn't seem to notice. “I do hope it's not far. Hopefully it doesn't take too long, right Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo was staring blankly out the window. “You owe me an entire wardrobe after this.”

“An expensive one?” he asked with a smile.

“Extremely.”

They were interrogating Scootaloo first. He wasn't sure how that was going, but he assumed poorly; for them. He had told her to simply tell the truth, as it would have no consequence in the end. He took deep, slow breaths. They had offered him tea, or coffee, but he didn't want to be awake. With his eyes closed he managed to drift off to sleep. It always paid to have a backup plan.

His dreamscape had altered so much since he had lost the other world. It was more tailored to this world now. For a brief moment he almost tried to get Luna's attention. But she didn't know him here, and he wasn't even sure if she went into dreams in this world. So he decided on his second choice. “Nightmare? You available for a chat?”

“For you?” She was sitting in the air behind him. “I'm more than available...”

He chuckled softly as he sat down as well, it didn't matter if he was sitting on anything or not. “Good to hear. So, how fast could you get to London?”

“Oh? You're there already? You're in quite a hurry to go places...aren't you, dear Copper?” She floated towards him.

There was a loud snap and Copper's eyes opened, staring at the two ponies in front of him. He looked down at the large file that was on the table in front of him. “Morning,” he said with a yawn and a stretch. “Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Yes, I'm sure you didn't.” Copper had an odd feeling he knew the white pony in front of him. A black splotch over the side of his face was a fairly memorable feature. “It took quite a while to track your goings on as of late, Mr. Feather.”

Copper frowned slightly. “Please, call me Copper if you're not going to use one of my proper titles.” He felt oddly relaxed considering the situation.

“And what sort of titles do you have, Mr. Feather.”

“Detective. Or Sergeant is another good one, though I prefer Detective.” Copper waited for the other pony to interpose but he remained silent.

The splotched one gave him a smirk. “Oh we know all about your military days, and your days as a Detective. But our records show that you quit quite a long time ago. Self employed and as far as records go, broke. You've been living off your money from the military and from the police force. So, hitting other countries since you can't make any money in yours, Mr. Feather?”

“A private Detective, is still a Detective. Now, are you going to continue to berate and insult me, or are you actually going to ask me relevant questions? I'm sure that you're quite a busy pony, you and your silent associate, and I for one know that I'm quite busy so please stop wasting both our time with this petty inquiry.” There was actually a hint of annoyance on the ponies face, bordering on anger.

Now the other pony chimed in. He was a soft beige color and was smaller than the splotched one. “Now now, we're not here to get anypony upset.”

“Well you've thoroughly flubbed any chance of that,” Copper said as he looked at the pony. There was no flinch, no sign of recoil. “Now if we could drop the whole 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' routine I'd like to go about my day. I've a clockwork to study.”

There seemed to be a relief of tension, subtle as it was, when the patched pony gave a loud harrumph and left the room. “Know a lot about clockwork?” the beige pony asked.

“A lot more than most I would guess. The one you have, hopefully still have, is the most advanced I've seen. According to it it's a Mark Fifteen, which I'm guessing it's the fifteenth model in some sort of line that the Creator has done. I studied from a Mark Thirteen. From what I saw, he has made vast improvements to his design.”

“Improvements? Damn...” The beige pony sat down opposite Copper, pulling out a notepad and pencil as he did. “We've been having trouble with a pony, or griffon, calling himself the Creator for five years now, though we expect that his exploits range decades. Even our experts in clockwork can't do a thing with what we've recovered in the past.”

“I do hope they're not messing about with the one I took down.” The pony raised an eyebrow at him. “They're deadly. No sense of life or death, so they attack quite ferociously.” He saw the pony lean over to a wall, which had an oddly mirrored surface on it and he tapped on it a few times. Copper thought this curious, but continued, “The Mark Thirteen 'Emily' stabbed me. I wasn't ready for the fight, but this time I was a bit more ready and the environment was more to my benefit. And I didn't have to worry about protecting Scootaloo.” Copper had this odd feeling that there was somepony behind him and he had to resist the urge to look.

“Yes, you mentioned that the earlier one was on a mission to capture her? She said the same but claims to have no knowledge of why.” The pony was taking little notes.

“I've been trying to figure it out...it said that somepony commissioned the Creator to capture her.” The ponies brow scrunched. “Things are very complicated, and I have very few leads.” Copper took a deep breath and stared at the light a moment.

The splotched pony came back into the room with his arms folded. “What sort of leads?” he said, apparently he had stepped out to calm himself down but had still been listening.

“Well, Doctor Vonzinzer is the biggest one.” The two officers eyed each other.

“Why would you need to speak with that crackpot?” The splotched pony leaned against the wall beside the door.

“I think he could give me some sort of direction. There are questions that I have.” The splotched pony laughed and Copper's brow wrinkled. “What's funny about that?”

“Oh if you ever get the chance to ask your questions, you'll find out.” Copper looked at the beige pony.

“Doctor Vonzinzer has never been one for questions...it's hard to explain without knowing the type of person he is.” The beige pony didn't even look up at Copper, taking notes. “But back to the clockwork. You have studied them, correct?”

“I have studied an earlier model, which was destroyed in the fire. But this new one seems more advanced in ways. I've spotted a few of the basic clockwork that walk around and none of them seem up to that level.” Copper was watching the pencil scratch away at the paper.

“Advanced clockwork tend to be kept inside. What exactly have you found out about them?”

“The oddest thing that I found about it that there was no mark from the Creator marking it as something he had made. An artist always signs his work, but this Creator seems to either not care about it, or has put it into some place that cannot be reached without taking apart something crucial. Thanks to my knowledge of that older model though, I was able to cause this one to shutdown without too much damage.”

“How'd you do that?” the splotched pony was glaring at the notepad, it was apparent that he hated that scratching noise.

“The engine that keeps it going is a type of boiler. It has pipes laced throughout it's body, after I knocked it to the ground, I crushed the pipes in it's arm to disable it, and then crushed, and probably ruptured, the boiler in it's chest.” Copper felt like he had lost the splotched pony, but the beige one continued taking notes.

“So that will work on all models?”

“I believe so. How many have you seen?” Copper asked as he eyed the pony and he finally looked up.

“Personally I've seen nothing but pieces. They always escape, or we do not even see them. This is the first...'Emily' I've ever seen.” He set down the notepad, placing his pencil on top of it. “If I may ask you a personal question, Copper...why did you become a Detective?”

Copper had to think about it a moment, but he heard a voice over his shoulder and couldn't help but repeat it. “I still had a lot in me after I was dismissed from the military. I never aimed to become a Detective...it just worked out like that.”

“Then why did you leave?”

Again the voice, but this time he matched it rather than lagging behind it. “Scootaloo.”

“I don't understand why,” the splotched pony said with a frown. “We got her records extremely easily and she has a rap sheet longer than any pony I've seen in my seventeen years.”

“Mostly misdemeanor’s,” the beige pony added. He hesitated a moment before continuing, “But there are some very serious ones.”

“Like attempted murder. She's put at least a dozen people in the hospital, and that's just the ones they know of. She ran gun for Don Burrasca for practically her entire life.” The splotched pony was staring at Copper as if he was trying to decide what to do with him. “She's a little monster.”

“But she's my little monster,” Copper snapped, actually beating the voice.

“What is your relationship with Scootaloo?” the beige pony asked cautiously.

“As far as anyone is concerned, she is my daughter.” It felt good to say, even if ponies would give him odd looks about it. “Now...do you have any other questions? I actually do have a job to do here, other than personal interests.”

“What sort of job?” More notes.

“I was asked to check up on a griffon, and request that she come to New York.” Copper looked at the splotched pony a moment.

“And who, pray-tell, asked you to do this job?” the splotched pony asked, glaring at Copper once again.

“Don Burrasca.” He was met with silence and nervous glances. “He asked me to find his daughter.”

There was a sense of relief that filled the room. “Don Burrasca doesn't have any children.”

“Well, if you don't believe me, allow me and Scootaloo to give him a call. That'll clear things up.”

Again the splotched pony laughed. “I'll call that bluff.” He opened the door. “Right this way, Detective.”

Copper stood up purposefully looked behind him as he turned, glancing around the room. Despite what he had felt, nopony was there. That was another headache he would be forced to deal with; hearing voices. “Of course.”

He followed the splotched pony down a hall to another door, behind which Scootaloo was sitting. She had a frown on her face and her arms were folded. She was pouting. She looked up as the door opened and she saw Copper. “What's going on?” she asked as she moved quickly to him and out of the little room.

“We're going to make that phone call,” Copper said with a smile. Scootaloo returned it as they followed the splotched pony down the hall into a larger area they had passed through previously. There were a lot of police officer's here, both ponies and griffons, and even some diamond dogs.

“Here,” the splotched pony pointed to a phone sitting on the table. Copper had not had much dealings with phone's, but knew basically how they worked. There was a part where you spoke into, and a part that you heard what the other person was saying on the other side. It was fascinating technology and Copper had no idea how it worked.

Copper gestured for Scootaloo, as she knew the number. She quickly picked up the phone and dialed numbers using the little turn dial, before handing the actual speaking part to him. He knew how to hold it from what little experience he had. A voice on the other side spoke to him. “Who is this?”

He didn't recognize the voice. “Copper Feather, I need to speak with Burrasca.”

There was hesitation on the other side. “Uh...are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure.” A crowd had now gathered around him, listening intently.

There was quite a bit of silence until Copper heard in a hushed, or muffled tone, “Don Burrasca...there's a phone call for you.”

Another moment of silence before Copper heard the familiar voice of the griffon Don Burrasca. “I do hope this is important.”

“Oh, am I interrupting something?”

There was a feeling of confusion from the other side before Burrasca spoke, “Copper?”

“Of course. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt,” Copper was looking around the room, some of the looks were horrified, some had fled it seemed. The rest either didn't know what was going on, or thought it was some sort of joke.

“Not at all. What has brought on this call? Have you found Gilda?”

“I'm afraid not. To summarize, I have completed most of my personal errands, the building we were in was burned down and we lost the clockwork, but gained a new one, and I have been arrested,” Copper couldn't help but smile as he spoke.

“Oh dear. It seems that you have had quite the hard time. But it sounds quite simple to correct. I shall deal with it personally.”

“Thank you very much, Burrasca. Would you like me to call you again after it's all sorted out?”

“There's no need. Simply inform me when you have located my daughter and I shall arrange for your return to New York.”

“Again, thank you. Also, that was quite a rough plan you had to get me here,” Copper said with a slight frown, remembering the pirate encounter and kidnapping.

“Ah, yes. I will ask your forgiveness for that in person. Is there anything else?”

He had think about it a moment, wondering if there was anything else that he could ask Burrasca while he had the chance. “No, I think that's all for now.”

“Then I shall go and deal with this promptly. Hope to hear from you soon, Copper.”

“Of course. And thanks again.” Copper heard the click of Burrasca hanging up and he did so as well, taking a moment to think about how it was done.

“Well now,” the splotched pony said, smirking. “How did it go with 'Don Burrasca'?” There was a tone of triumph in his voice.

Copper held up his hand. “Give it a moment,” he said and everyone stared at his hand, and then looked towards one side of the room as a door opened to reveal a large griffon.

Copper was close enough to be able to read the plaque on the wall that read 'Chief Inspector' in large letters, and close enough to see the nervous expression on his face. “Where is Copper Feather?”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at Copper. “Right here,” he said with a smile.

The Chief Inspector headed towards him. “On behalf of myself and Scotland Yard, I would like to apologize for the inconvenience and any indiscretions that have happened during your time here.”

Out of the corner of his eye Copper saw the splotched pony slinking off into the crowd. “Not at all. Overall my stay has been quite pleasant.”

“If there is anything I can do to apologize for this misunderstanding, please don't hesitate to ask,” the griffon said as he looked around as if trying to find someone to shift the blame to.

He wondered what Burrasca had said; if he he had made any threats, or if he had simply stated that he was disappointed. Copper looked at Scootaloo. “Do you need anything.”

Scootaloo looked thoughtful a moment. “Nothing I can think of off the top of my head, but I'm sure I'll think of something.”

Copper looked at the Chief Inspector and smiled. “The clockwork, for one. I will allow it to stay here and be studied, after I have a crack at it, but when I want it, it will come with me.” There was a hesitant nod from the Chief Inspector, then a line that Scootaloo had said previously jumped to mind. “And...as a private Detective from America, I don't have any sort of sway here. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like jurisdiction to operate here in England. That would make my inquiries much more productive.”

2: Cracked

It was an odd feeling wearing a suit. It was the only thing they had that would actually fit him, and it was built for a griffon of a tad larger stature than him. Honestly he had not been concerned but Scootaloo had pointed out that his clothes were burnt, tattered and covered in soot. Unfortunately for the owner of the suit, he would not be getting it back. Though Copper guessed he wouldn't want it back now that the white frill of the sleeves was covered in oil and it was splattered where the jacket did not cover his chest. “Hand me that,” he said as he pointed to an odd tool. The assistant immediately handed it to him. Higger was his name, he was apparently the best clockwork master around, and in the employment of Scotland Yard. “What the hell even is this?” Copper said as he examined it.

It was a sort of odd bent tool with a ratchet type attachment at the end but for something he'd never even seen before. “What?” Higger blinked a few times at Copper. “It's a rire, it's for-”

Copper tossed it behind him into a pile. “Overcomplicated is what it is,” Copper grumbled. “Ah, now, you see this?”

“The neural processor?” Higger leaned in to get a better look at it.

“So that's what it's called...” Copper unceremoniously ripped it from its housing. “The older model had one as well.”

“I-I'm not surprised. It's required for interlinking with other very advanced clockwork as well as stations. It's how it receives it's programming.” Copper obviously made the griffon worried.

“Interesting...” Copper was examining it under one of the lights. The first question Higger had asked Copper was, 'Where did you receive your training?' to which Copper had replied, 'Never got any.'

It was obvious that he knew very little and this was a learning experience, but Higger was impressed with how quickly he could disassemble parts and be able to explain them and for the most part, what they do in the simplest terms. “You learned everything you know from the previous model, right?”

“Yes,” Copper said, answering that question for the third time. “As I said, I'm a fast learner and it was the first physical thing I learned from.” He was reconnecting the neural processor. “How long would it take for you to build something to be able to access this? Access it's programming?”

“I...don't think I could. It's more advanced than anything we have here, and the parts would be astronomically expensive.” Copper looked up at Higger in his oil stained lab coat. Higger responded by adjusting his glasses nervously. “Unfortunately Scotland Yard is only interested in stopping them, not using them.”

“Shame.” Copper turned Emily over slowly, so that she rested on her back. He had learned a lot in less than an hour. “Have you finished repairing the boiler?”

“Ah!” Higger turned quickly and produced the large metal canister looking device. “Yes.”

Copper would have preferred they not have such a large audience, but this was, as Higger described it, an autopsy viewing room. There were elevated seats surrounding them on an upper level and dozens of people there. Some of them were students, the rest of them police. Copper took the canister from Higger and reattached it inside Emily's chest. A few more connections and...

Her eyes snapped open, gazed around fanatically, caught sight of Higger first and her arm jabbed towards him. Then she stared at the stub, she was missing her forearm. “None of that now,” Copper said as he forced her to lay flat on the table with a forceful thump. Higger was scrambling over a table to get away. “You've been...disarmed,” Copper said with a smirk. There was a loud groan from the stands and Copper guessed that that had been Scootaloo.

The Emily stared blankly at him.

“I'll save you a bit of time assessing your damage. You're arm has been removed, your other is not connected to your control system, nor are your legs. Your arm is removed due to excessive damage, but the damage to your chest and boiler have been repaired.”

She continued to stare at him.

“Now then.” He sat down. “You do not have any sort of inhibitor that I could find, unlike the previous Emily, so that means you have a different process system to determine whether to answer or not. But my real question is...why did you respond to my question, if you did not have to?”

“Obviously it was programmed to,” someone from the stands piped in.

“I would have thought that if she had not refused to answer me the first time. Unless someone had put in exceptions to when it will say things, but that was a very specific situation. During shut down, recite your name?” There was a lot of chatter amongst the crowd as Copper pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Copper Feather.” The room went silent. “Why did you take Emily?”

“Which one? The previous Emily, or you?” The muttering flooded around the room again.

“This one.” Her face was showing confusion, which Copper could not tell if it was actual or faked.

“A lot of different reasons. Mostly to learn. But I could not let you simply be destroyed.” He was watching her face as she was speaking.

“You have stolen this one, for knowledge?”

“It is not stealing. You attempted to murder me, therefore you have been arrested.” Copper tilted his head to the side slightly. “Hm.”

“A clockwork can now be arrested? How interesting.”

“So who am I speaking to right now, if I might ask?” Copper was having a strange feeling.

“You are an observant one,” she was looking around the room.

“So, are you the Creator that I hear so much about?” There was silence, except for several people getting up.

“Very observant.” The Emily looked at him once again. “So, Detective Copper Feather...it seems that the reports I was given on you were quite wrong. And Higger...you are still working for them I see.” Higger was hiding behind a table. “You've done quite well, disabling all of my systems...”

“Yes, he's done a good job,” Copper said, frowning slightly. “Now, I do have to ask, are you going to be cooperative and tell me why someone hired you to take Scootaloo?”

“Oh I don't know. They offered me quite a lot of money, as well as...certain other things. Quite secretive about it as well.” There was an annoying smugness on her face now. “But now it seems you have one of my Emily's once again.”

“Yes, well...you made it personal going after Scootaloo. And if you aren't going to give me anything to go on, this is going to get get a lot more personal.” Copper stood up, looking down at her.

“Well that is unfortunate. Having such a...resourceful opponent might cause a problem.”

Copper reached down and switched her back off. He sighed softly as he sat back down. “Well, this is troublesome...” He looked over his shoulder as someone laid a hand on his shoulder, it was Scootaloo. “Hi,” he said with a slight smile.

“C'mon. We've got a job, right?” Scootaloo said with a smile.

He nodded and stood up, brushing himself off a bit. “Yeah, I know. Let's get going. Higger.” Higger stood up abruptly. “Do not turn her back on. Find out how the Creator can communicate to us through her.”

Higger nodded. “O-of course. I'll do whatever I can.”

It was a short walk through the station to the main room. Copper noticed there were a lot of people waiting to be processed, seated against the wall or standing in front of a desk. But everyone was looking at one person in the room, and it wasn't hard for Copper to figure out why. With a mane made up of something like dark smoke, and wearing a flowing violet dress. “Oh there you are, Copper!”

“See, Ms. Nightingale, he is right here.”

“Nightingale?” Copper said as she rushed towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and he blinked and looked around. “Uh...”

“Oh and here I was actually worried. How foolish of me.” She was smiling at him, looking around. “It's been a while since I've been to London...” She held him at arms length, looking him up and down. “You are filthy. What have you been doing?”

“Working.” Copper looked at her a moment and then down at Scootaloo, who was giving him an annoyed look. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Who's this, hm? Another one of your 'friends'?” Scootaloo seemed to have mastered the scowling frown. Nightmare, or Nightingale as she was apparently calling herself, was fussing over his collar and adjusting his bowtie.

He chuckled softly. “I'll explain when we're in a more private area. It's all rather...complicated.”

“Uhm, Copper Feather?” There was an officer approaching him, he felt like he recognized him but he had seen so many in the last few hours they were all starting to blur together.

“Yes?” He reached up and loosened his bowtie. It was comforting to have one on, but the way that they were worn here felt weird on his throat.

“Could you come with me? There's someone from Interpol here to see you.” The pony turned and was walking towards the entrance to the building out into the public area.

Copper's brow furrowed slightly as he went after him, Nightingale was clinging to him the entire time, humming to herself. Scootaloo was still glaring at him. The door practically burst open as they were approaching, and there stood a tall, almost white pony with blonde hair. “Ah, Chrysalis,” Copper said with a smile, it was hard not to recognize her, especially when he had seen her in that form before.

There was a look of relief on her face, quickly replaced by annoyance when she saw some other pony clinging to him. “I see you're doing well...who's this?”

“This is Nightingale. She was here to assist in my release but I have already taken care of that.” There was still a look of displeasure from Chrysalis, one which Nightingale seemed to revel in.

“Then why is she still here?” Chrysalis said, glaring at her.

“To make sure he makes it out of here,” she responded.

“Well you're not needed. I'm here now.”

“Oh? And what makes you so important, hm?” Nightingale released him.

“I have actual legal sway in the matter,” Chrysalis snapped.

“Well it looks like you weren't needed here at all, either.”

“And you aren't needed now. Why Copper thinks that he needs to be around such...ponies is beyond me.”

“Oh another thing that's out of your reach, hm?”

“How dare you!”

Copper watched as the argument spiraled further and further out of control. He assumed any moment now it would get physical and the two would bludgeon each other to death. It was such an odd contrast, Chrysalis in white against the dark blue of Nightingale. “Copper?” He looked down at Scootaloo. “Are you just...gonna stand there and watch?”

He chuckled softly and walked between the two of them, gently pushing them apart as he walked. “Sorry,” he said to the following Scootaloo. “I'm not used to having anyone fight over me with such passion.” The two perplexed ponies stared after him. “It is an...odd feeling.”

“One that you were enjoying,” Scootaloo folded her arms at him.

“I would be lying if I said I was not.” He pushed open the door and made his way outside.

A second argument had broken out in the car as they were driving. Chrysalis had a vehicle apparently, a very nice one in fact. Copper sat in the back with Scootaloo, she had insisted on that to keep them from arguing over who got to ride beside him. But it had not helped keep them civil. Copper was not even sure what they were arguing about, he had lost interest quite a long time ago. Instead he had dozed slightly, trying to catch up on sleep before his next confrontation, and he had a lot of things to think about. Such as Chrysalis being apart of Interpol. Or how the Creator had been able communicate with them through Emily. Or even this mysterious contractor that wanted Scootaloo.

“Why do you think they're after you?” he said eventually, looking at Scootaloo beside him.

She blinked and looked up at him. “I don't know,” she said as she turned away, staring out the window.

“Yes, you said that. But I know you're smarter than that, Scootaloo. You may not know the reason why, but you have some ideas.”

He could tell she was frowning. “I don't.”

There was silence for a moment, the argument had been put on pause to let Copper speak. “All right. Well, if you do think of anything, let me know.” He sighed softly as he looked out the window. He knew that she knew. She knew something at the very least, but didn't want to tell him. They were coming up to a massive complex. “I take it that's the place?”

“Yes.” Chrysalis said as she pulled up to a massive metal door. A griffon with machine gun walked up to Chrysalis's side of the car and she showed him something. “Agent Chrysalis, Interpol. We're here to speak with Doctor Vonzinzer.”

The griffon looked confused, looking at the odd group in the car. “Really?”

Copper was watching the diamond dog with similar garb walk around the car. He opened the hood of the car first, checked under every tire and then inside the trunk. “Yes. Really.”

“Who's in the car?” The diamond dog said, looking in the back window.

“This is Nightingale, civilian. Scootaloo, also a civilian. And-”

“Detective Copper Feather,” he said with a smile at the griffon, passing the passport thing the Chief Inspector had given him.

“Ah...yes...” The griffon passed it back. “Sorry, have to check everyone, you know how it is.”

“Oh yes, no rush,” Copper said as he relaxed back in his seat. “Though the car that's parked three blocks away the way we came had been following us since Scotland Yard. It's gray, license plate Eight Seven One, R Six Five Nine Zero.”

“That's a fellow Interpol agent,” Chrysalis said, frowning back at him. “Why didn't you mention you spotted it?”

“Oh you and Nightingale seemed so wrapped in your conversation, I didn't want to interrupt,” Copper said with a smile at her. “My apologies. I was mistaken.”

“You said Nightingale, right?” The diamond dog leaned in the window slightly. “Oh wow! It is. Wow. I've seen all your movies, Miss Nightingale.”

She smiled at him. “Why thank you. It's always so wonderful to meet a fan, especially over here in Europe.”

Copper had never seen a diamond dog look bashful, it was a very odd sight. “Begin' your pardon, ma'am, but would it be possible to get your signature?”

“You can do that later,” Chrysalis snapped. “Copper may not be in a hurry, but I would like to get going.”

The diamond dog stood upright. “Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am.”

Copper watched the two of them retreat, one of them going to the wall up to what looked similar to a telephone. “That was a bit harsh, Chrysalis,” he said as the gate began to open.

“I'd rather not have her waste all of our times pandering to these men.” Chrysalis was frowning as she parked the car.

“Well, you both will have plenty of time when I talk to Vonzinzer.” They glanced back at him. “I'll be speaking to him alone.”

“You cannot be serious.” He had assumed Chrysalis would be against it.

“I have to agree with Miss Interpol here.” It was weird seeing Nightingale side with her.

“And I'm against it as well.” Scootaloo was glaring at Copper.

“Tough. None of you can stop me, nor would you stop me. The fact is I do not want, or need any of you talking with him.” He couldn't help but be firm about it. It was something that he had to do. “You will be nothing but a distraction. Besides, I need help finding Gilda. We don't have any leads and as soon as I'm done with Vonzinzer, we're going to speak with her.”

“And you're asking us to do that?” Nightingale was looking back at him with a large grin. “I'm very good at finding people...”

“As am I,” Chrysalis said, casting a sideways glance towards Nightingale.

Copper was fairly certain that the inside of the car got hotter from the intensity of their glare. He shook his head slightly as he got out. “I wont be long. Keep an eye on Scootaloo, please.” Scootaloo stared at him as he closed the door on her. “Probably an hour.”

Scootaloo rapidly rolled the window down. “I don't even get to come inside?” she said, extremely annoyed.

He chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair before turning and walking away. “Nope, when I said alone, I meant alone. And I want to make sure you're safe.”

She rolled up the window as angrily as physically possible. “Fine.”

There was no safer place for her that he could think of. Two resourceful ladies that would hate to disappoint him. “What's your business?” There was another guard at the front door.

Copper offered him the passport thing. “Detective Copper Feather, I'm here to see Doctor Vonzinzer. The chief inspector of Scotland Yard should have phoned ahead and explained some of the situation.”

The guard handed it back and nodded. “Yes...they told me about that.” He watched Copper as he took the passport back and tucked it into his empty gun holster. “Got anything on you that you shouldn't? I have to ask.”

“Nothing that I'm aware that I'm not allowed to have.” He opened his jacket, showing the guard that he had nothing. Copper realized how he literally had nothing but the clothes on his back, the passport and his gun holster. His pockets were empty.

“Strange place to keep your badge,” the guard said as he pushed a button on the intercom. “Detective Copper Feather is here.”

There was a buzzing noise and a click before the guard opened the door. “Thank you,” Copper said as he made his way in.

“Straight back to the desk, please,” the guard said as he let the door closed.

Copper looked around at the large room with it's pillars. It was an oddly elegant room. Copper wasn't entirely sure what this place even was, but it wasn't important as he walked towards the large desk. There was a female griffon that Copper felt he recognized sitting behind it. “Good afternoon, Detective.”

“Afternoon.” He stood at the desk as he watched her place a pen in front of him.

“Sign the ledger, please.” She opened a book beside him, giving it a vague tap. Her eyes never left him as if she was struggling to get a read on him.

“Of course,” he said as he gave a quick signature on the lowest spot, signing it CoFeath.

“If you don't mind me asking, what do you expect to accomplish by coming here? I would expect you are aware of the difficulties everyone has dealing with Vonzinzer.”

Copper looked at her as he laid the pen down, making sure that it made a click on the desk. “Yes, I have heard that. But I'd like to see for myself.” He smiled slightly. “I'm thorough like that.”

She was frowning at him. “Well you're lucky the higher ups agreed that it wouldn't be a waste to let you see him.” She pointed off down a hall to the left. “Basement floor seven, the guard will tell you where to go from there.”

“Thank you,” Copper said as he walked off down the hall she had indicated. It was starting to bother him where he had seen her before. Suddenly he perked up, snapping his fingers. “Ah yes, that's where it was.” He smiled a bit. It had been at one of Lady Evale's parties. He had never learned her name, but it made him feel better that he knew where it was from.

The elevator was already open and there was a large diamond dog standing in there, already glaring at him. “What floor?”

“Basement seven,” Copper said as he got into the elevator.

“Ah, you're the Detective person to see the crazy doctor.” The diamond dog swiped a card and pushed a button. A second later the door closed and Copper felt the elevator begin its decent.

“Why do you say he's crazy?” Copper leaned vaguely against the side of the elevator.

“He yells at the lot at the wall. Breaks lotsa stuff. A lot of things like that. But I'm not usually down on that level, that's where the scientists are. I like elevator duty though, it's easy and relaxing. Shift's really long though.” Copper was sure that the diamond dog could break anyone who came into this elevator without authorization, but there also seemed to be a bit of intelligence on top of the brawn.

“I can imagine that it could get a bit boring standing in one spot just going up and down all day.” The elevator came to a trembling stop and the door opened. “I couldn't sit still for that long...”

“I like the peacefulness. Gives me time to think. Anyways, the crazy room is down the hall to the left. Room seven fifteen.”

“Thanks.” Copper stepped out into the hallway, looking left at the dim lit hallway.

“Careful you don't get lost,” was the last thing Copper heard before the elevator doors closed and he was alone.

Copper took a deep breath as he began walking down the hall. There were barely any lights, most of the light came from large windows, which when Copper looked in the first he saw several figures around a table. They all watched him walk passed as though he were the most interesting thing they'd seen all day. The next several rooms were all empty, most looked like examination rooms. The door wasn't hard to find, it was a very heavy door and the only one with a guard. “Copper Feather?”

“Detective, yes.” Copper always made the point to make sure that people understood that part.

The guard grunted in response as he entered something on a keypad behind him. “He's riled up today, no idea why.” The door clicked and the guard gestured for him to go in. “Just knock when you want out.”

The door snapped behind him when he walked into the room and copper stood at the back of a large lecture hall. There were rows upon rows of desks, all facing a rather annoyed looking griffon who was furiously writing on a wall sized chalkboard. The entire chalkboard was covered in numbers and designs. “Now! Can anyone tell me where the mistake is?”

Copper walked quietly down the steps, passed the rows of desks, which all had odd constructs in them. None of them moved, but as Copper passed he noticed each one had piles of papers in front of it, all filled with scribblings in the same scratchy handwriting.

“No one?!” The griffon slammed the piece of chalk down onto the ground and began frantically writing something on the floor. “It's a simple, such a simple thing...where is it?!”

“Your scale is off on part of the engine,” Copper said and the griffon froze. He had been working over the diagram as he walked towards the griffon. “You're right, it is a simple mistake, but one that screws up every proceeding piece by a slight enough measure that by the end you're entire design is beyond any sort of recovery.”

The griffon stood up, examining his own designs. “That's...exactly right!” He turned and threw the piece of chalk at Copper.

It bounced off his chest, leaving a small spot of white on his coat. He watched as it clattered to the ground and rolled away. “What-” The whirring of a machine snapped his attention back to the old griffon and he dove to the side at the sight of a flash.

Copper didn't dare look out from behind the desk. The ground where he had been standing had been peppered with bits of metal. “Hah! Nice dodge! Smart, and quick!”

“Some kind of shotgun?” He crawled slowly behind the desks. “But it's got way too tight of impact at that range to be a shotgun...” He leaned against the desk, they were heavy duty wood but he doubted they could survive a blast from whatever that had been. His suspicions were quickly realized when the desk he had first taken cover behind exploded.

“Ah! You moved!”

“Of course I moved you blasted old man!” Copper rolled to the side quickly, but there was no shot. “Long reload time?” The table he had shouted behind exploded. “Long reload time...”

“So! Who did they send for my secrets this time, hm? Who did Interpol send to pester me with their nonsensical questions?!”

“I'm not with Interpol!” Copper slipped to the side and then through the hole that the last explosion had made, rolling to the left as soon as he was behind cover of the next row. The desk he had initially ducked behind exploded. “How many shots does he have?” he muttered to himself.

“Not with Interpol, eh? So they're outsourcing? They haven't tried to get anything from me in five years!”

“Five? Jeez...” Many of the constructs that had been seated had fallen over and Copper made his way over to one. Tools littered the floor...it was perfect.

“You think things will be different?” He pulled several pieces of the construct off. “All they want is for me to build weapons...so I build them! I build them, and then shoot them at any who comes to claim them!” He took off his coat, and began building quickly. “I, was a scholar! Am a scholar! I was one of the greats! I taught dozens of those little cretins who think they can change the world with machines!”

“Just keep talking, old man...” Copper muttered as he wound the device. It was crude, but it would move and move fast.

“Do you understand how difficult it is for a teacher to not teach? It is what I loved, it was my passion. Forget machines, I could teach math for all I care!” Copper heard the whirring and one of the desks exploded.

Copper fumbled a bit as it was a tad too close for comfort and some shrapnel from the desk had nicked his arm. “Jeez...well at least he's talkative...”

“But no. I build one clockwork, and it just so happens to lose control, just as a diplomat happens to be passing by, they outlaw clockworks and ship me off to serve out my sentence here! Here!?” Another desk exploded, but this one was far away from Copper.

He attached his coat to the device and let it go. It made a quick little squeaking noise as it took off down the lane towards the center. “Go little guy, go quick.”

The griffon took the bait, as the coat trailing behind the device passed a walkway and ducked behind some more desks the griffon fired at it. “Where do you think you're going?!”

Copper was up over the desk, a few skips along the top of desks and he had cleared the room and made one final leap. There was some large machine the griffon was on top of which had, as far as Copper could see, a cannon attached to the front. But now it was facing the wrong way. The griffon hardly had time to turn before he was clotheslined by Copper's wing and sent sprawling onto the floor. He caught himself easily and rolled the old griffon over, placing a foot on his back to pin him. “My name is Copper Feather, I'm a Detective from New York city. I would like to ask you some questions.”

“Questions?!” The griffon struggled. “No! No questions! That is all I ever get from you blasted people! How are you today, Doctor Vonzinzer? What would you like to eat, Doctor Vonzinzer? What are you making, Doctor Vonzinzer?! How do you make a thermonuclear weapon, Doctor Vonzinzer?! What is the exact weight of cannonball sized piece of gold, Doctor Vonzinzer?! How many cups of sugar does it take to get to the moon, Doctor Vonzinzer?! No! No questions!” It was obvious to Copper that this griffon's mind had cracked from isolation.

He stared down at the wiggling griffon, watching his hands as they grasped for things, but nothing was in reach. “Fine. Then I'll just talk and we'll see if you have anything to say on a particular subject.” Copper stepped away, watching as the griffon rolled over, ready to continue fighting, only to be disappointed by seeing Copper a ways away. “A month ago I was attacked by a clockwork, in New York.” Immediately Copper had Doctor Vonzinzer's attention. “It attempted to not only kill me, but it was going to kidnap my associate.” He moved to the large cannon, examining it as he spoke. “It called itself Emily.”

Vonzinzer slumped against the wall bellow the chalkboard. “He is still building them...”

“Yes. The one that I fought the first time- yes I have fought two of them now, the first one was a Mark Twelve, and the second one was a Mark Fifteen. I've no idea what the latest model is, but I'm certain that it's well beyond fifteen. Currently I have the Mark Fifteen in my possession-” the griffon shifted towards Copper with excitement. “-at Scotland Yard.” Again the griffon slumped. “I got a good look at it's inner workings, but I find it strange that the one calling himself the Creator leaves no mark on his machines, nothing to say that they are his.”

“Because he does not need to. No one can come close to that kind of genius.” Copper looked at Doctor Vonzinzer. “Look at the world ten years from now, and the Mark Two will be more advanced than anything out there.”

“Why not the mark one?” Copper reached a hand into the cannon, examining some of the controls.

“Because I built the first Emily.” He placed his hand onto his chest. “It was the most beautiful thing I had ever built, it moved almost like a pony. Almost perfect...but then...”

“It killed the ambassador from Britain.” The griffon nodded, laying down on the floor on the scrawling he had made earlier. There was an odd squeaking noise and Copper saw the little thing he had made, making its way around the room, trailing his jacket. “Such a shame...” He reached down, catching it by his coat.

The griffon leaped onto the device and pulled it from his coat before Copper could react. But Copper let him have it. He double checked that his passport was still in it's holster, which thankfully it was, before putting on his coat. “This is what you made?”

“Yes. It's crude, but I just needed to distract you.” He was fixing his sleeve, which had been rolled up as the little machine had dragged it.

“You call this crude?” The griffon had mostly taken it apart. “It is so...simple... Simple is what I would call it, not crude.”

“Well, I've always had a certain way with machines. I enjoyed studying, and learning from both versions of the Emily. I would have thought that this was something from them.” He gestured to the chalk board. “It's very similar to their...heart. I'm not sure what you call it. But it seems...”

“Crude...” The griffon was holding the small device, staring at it. “What questions do you have?”

He looked down at Doctor Vonzinzer. “I thought you said no questions?”

“I'll make an exception, for now...now, ask before I change my mind.”

“I only have two. Who is the Creator, and where is he?” Copper pulled his hands from the cannon, it had at least thirty more shots in it. He was glad he went with his plan to rush, rather than wait it out and try to have him run out of ammo.

Doctor Vonzinzer laughed, and shook his head. “The Creator, as you call him...was a student of mine. Very bright. Impeccably intelligent. He could take apart anything, and build near anything from it. I was sure that he would lead the world into a better place...and then...”

“The war.”

The griffon nodded. “Yes...the war... It was so brutal...”

“I know. I was there, for some of it.” He sighed softly, closing his eyes a moment. Every time he closed his eyes now for very long he swore he could hear bombs in the distance and screaming.

“I see it left it's mark.” Vonzinzer was holding the small device as if he would die if he let it go. “But that has not weakened you...you have not let it. You have turned it into strength...”

“I'm aware of that. Now, back to the Creator.” He looked at Doctor Vonzinzer on the floor.

“They attempted to draft him, and he fled. I was a teacher, and too old for the draft, so they only sought me for my knowledge of machines. Had they known of his skill, I am sure they would have used him for that as well...”

Copper took a deep breath. “And where is he now?”

“Why do you hunt him?” the griffon asked. “He is not the kind of thing you want to go after.”

“He tried to kill me, which I could care less over, but...” He gripped the side of the cannon. “He tried to take my daughter, because he was hired to. I'm going to find him, and beat out the information I need, if I have to.”

Doctor Vonzinzer looked at him a moment, and then nodded. “That's a good reason...funny how you'd go so far out of your way to find out the information...”

“You were not the reason I came to London in the first place.” Copper turned towards Doctor Vonzinzer. “You were a bonus. Now, enough delaying. Where is the Creator?”

There was a grin on the old beak of Doctor Vonzinzer. “Yanno...he writes to me, often. Sending me little cryptic messages through his secret contacts...and there's one thing that's always the same on ever letter...the post office that the envelope is from.” He crawled slowly over to his desk and after a moment of fishing though it, pulled out an envelope. “His most recent, which arrived not long ago, was most surprising, as it was not addressed to me.” He held the letter out to Copper.

Copper took it hesitantly and looked at the front of the letter. It was addressed to him. That cocky bastard... He was several steps ahead of him already. The worst part of it was the return address. Otsego, New York. What was written on the letter just made him mad. It was just another spit in Copper's face. “Try me.”

3: Fragments

His head was spinning as he walked back towards the elevator. He pushed the button for the elevator, pinching the bridge of his nose. New York...the Creator was in New York? How was that even possible? All the signs had pointed towards him being in Britain. Didn't they? What had he missed? He had missed something important. There was a detail, an earlier clue that he had missed that would have hinted at it. The whole thing gave him a headache.

There was a ding as the elevator opened. It was empty. Copper almost thought nothing of it, but remembered the diamond dog and stopped, staring into the empty elevator. He stepped backwards until his back was against the opposite wall. He waited until the elevator doors closed before looking back and forth down the hallway. There was another detail he was grasping at. Something Doctor Vonzinzer had said. “Secret contacts...” he muttered. “Letters that frequently got into a high security facility...” There was a dim sign that caught his attention, a stairs sign.

He ran, mentally registering that all the rooms were empty as he passed. He quickly checked that his passport was still there as he came to a stop at the door to the stairs. He paused for a fraction of a second, noting that it swung away from him, before pressing himself to the wall beside it. There was an odd twitch in his fingers before he reached over, knocking on the door. He listened, waiting for a sound. He wasn't sure if he was imagining the sound of shifting on the other side of the door, or if it was actually there.

Something metal peeked out from underneath the door and Copper quickly stepped in front of the door and kicked it in. There was a meaty thump as it hit something, that something then cascaded down the stairs. Copper moved back to the side as machine gun fire pelted the wall and floor where Copper had been. “Hah! I thought you'd go for the stairs.” The door swung shut again, but Copper heard the familiar voice say, “Get back up here.”

Copper shoved the door open again, coming in low. A hail of gunfire whizzed over his head as he tackled the pony into the railing. He gave him two hits to the face, one of which was returned as the pony tried to fight him off. A knee to the groin caused the pony to double over and Copper seized hold of the machine gun before kicking the pony down the stairs after his comrade, who was making his way back up. He caught the falling pony and struggled to get something in his coat a moment before Copper shot him in the leg.

There was screaming as both ponies tumbled down the stairs. He recognized one of the moving heaps at the bottom of the stairs as the pony from the front door. Copper spat out a bit of blood from the hit he'd taken and ran up the stairs, pointing the machine gun up ahead of him. “Never liked machine guns. Too inaccurate.” Copper slipped up a few steps, staring around. It had sounded like he had spoken, but he hadn't.

He looked down at the machine gun before he began running back up the stairs. ”Don't do this to me now,” he muttered. “Not when I'm fighting for my life.” But it was silent all the way up. He paused at the floor before the first, noticing that the door on the main floor up ahead was propped open. He panted, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't hear anyone coming up the stairs after him.

The silence was annoying him as he slowly made his way up the stairs, stopping once he got to the point that he could see through the open door. He could see the elevator off in the distance; he could see the hulking mass of the diamond dog waiting beside the elevator. There was the secretary griffon still sitting behind the desk, but there was something off. She wasn't moving. He remembered that she had been writing when he came in, but now she was not even doing that. Copper walked slowly up the stairs until the diamond dog spotted him. “And here I was hoping you'd take the elevator.”

“You're clip is empty,” the voice said from behind him. Copper tossed the machine gun to the side, much to the confusion of the diamond dog. That would have been nice to know earlier...

“Gonna fight me pony to dog, hm?” The diamond dog cracked his neck, followed by his knuckles, as he approached him. “Not smart on your part.”

“No.” Copper held up his fists, spreading his feet slightly. “Not pony to dog. Dog to dog.”

“I used to box back in the military,” the voice continued. Copper noticed how the diamond dog adopted a similar stance.

“So what's the deal, hm? Creator got you in his pocket?” The diamond dog swiped at him, but Copper easily dodged, making a halfhearted swing at him as well, which he batted away. They were testing each other, feeling each other out. A few more exchange of swings, either dodged or blocked. “Not talking to me?”

“Nothin' to say to you,” the diamond dog responded before laying into Copper. It had caught Copper off guard, a straight hit to the jaw that sent him skidding across the floor and bumping into the wall.

Copper had to shake himself a bit as he got up, apparently play time was over. His lip had split and he could taste blood. “Shame. You seemed like a smart one.” He dusted himself off slightly as he shifted into a different stance. He charged at him, ducking under the diamond dogs swing before pelting him in the gut several times; it was like punching Emily again. Copper blocked the knee and shifted around, giving him a hard strike to the jaw.

But the diamond dog rolled his jaw slightly, smirking slightly down at Copper. “You're quick, I'll give you that. But you can't hit for shi-” Copper socked him in the jaw again before the diamond dog gave him a hearty hit to his gut. The blow lifted him quite a distance up off the floor.

He coughed and threw up, heaving and trying to breath. “Guess I'm rusty,” the voice said and the smugness of the tone annoyed Copper immensely.

“Dog to dog, hm? Well you sure grovel like a dog.” Copper skidded across the floor up into the wall as the diamond dog kicked him. “And here I thought you were going to be difficult. I warmed up and everything.”

Copper struggled to get back up, coughing as he gasped for breath. “Still tough, though,” the voice said as Copper managed to get back on his feet.

“Sics...” Copper said as he leaned against the wall, trying to get the taste of bile out of his mouth.

“What?” The diamond dog hesitated, staring at Copper.

“You're name's Sics.” Copper was trying to work out what to do. The diamond dog was tougher and stronger than him.

The diamond dog looked down at himself for a second before pulling out his I.D. card from his pocket. “How did you know that? I don't know you.”

Copper shook his head, chuckling softly. “No...you don't...” He couldn't beat the other Sics, either. He used his terrain to his advantage in that fight. He hurt, but now at least he had some semblance of where he was standing. “But you have five brothers...which is why your parents named you Six.” There was quite a puzzled look on the diamond dogs face now. Copper made a dash in and up the stairs while Sics was distracted. He took the stairs two at a time as Sics rushed in after him. Copper was faster than him and once he got to the second floor he pulled open the door and kept running up the stairs. He spotted Sics hesitate a moment and then, spotting Copper a flight ahead of him, continued to run after him.

“Stop running and fight!” Sics yelled after him.

Suddenly he stopped running and waited till Sics got up to his level, before he jumping the railing and dropping down, grabbing the lower level and hoping back over, running down the stairs now. He kicked out the little block that was holding the door to the first level open and ran towards the desk. The griffon was motionless, propped up in the seat. Copper wasn't sure if she was dead or unconscious, but didn't have time for that. Instead he went through the drawers of the desk. Sics kicked the door clear off it's hinges.

“I said stop runn-” Blam blam. Copper panted heavily as Sics dropped to the ground trying to clutch both his leg and his shoulder.

Now Copper checked the griffon, finding that she was unconscious. He pushed the button on the desk and leaped over it. He heard the buzzer that unlocked the door, throwing the pistol to the side as he rushed out the door. He was outside and out of breath, looking around. There was no guard there, but he saw Scootaloo sitting in the back of the car still, talking with Chrysalis. He walked towards the car as he wiped blood from his chin and spat to get rid of the taste of blood and bile. He opened the door, getting in the car. “We need to leave, now. Where's Nightingale?”

“She's- what the hell happened to you?!” Scootaloo practically jumped on him as she turned his head from side to side.

Chrysalis leaped up as well, nearly losing the cigarette she was smoking. “What happened?”

“Apparently the Creator owns most of the people in this place. Chrysalis, now. Leave. Go.”

She started the car and it jerked backwards, swinging around as she gunned it. “What happened in there?” But she had to come to a stop as they approached the large door.

“I'll explain in a bit.” He held his stomach. “Ugh...after we get going...I think I broke a rib...”

Nightingale was walking towards them with a smile, coming out of some sort of guardhouse with quite a saunter. She rushed the car when she saw Copper doubled over in pain. “What happened?” she said as she hurried into the car, practically crawling from the front seat to the back.

“Sit down,” Chrysalis snapped as she gunned it through the now open door.

“That was a heck of a fight...” Copper said, taking deep breaths as he leaned back in the seat.

“It's just a bit bruised,” Scootaloo said as she examined Copper. “But you've chipped a tooth. Did Doctor Vonzinzer do this to you?”

Copper laughed and regretted it immediately as he bent forward. “Ah- ...no...some of the people working there work for the Creator...and apparently he doesn't like me at all. Diamond dog named Sics gave me a rough time on my way out. And I put a bullet in his shoulder for his effort.” Copper closed his eyes. “It was honestly a pretty good attempt but these people keep underestimating me...which is good for me.” He waved his hand in the air in a sort of victory celebration. “Woo...”

“But what happened with Doctor Vonzinzer?” Nightingale asked, still turned around in her seat to face Copper.

“I said, sit down,” Chrysalis said again.

“Actually pretty well. He tried to kill me at first, but I think I earned his respect in the end.”

“What the hell is it with you and people trying to kill you?!” Scootaloo said as she gave him a shove.

“I've been trying to figure that out for quite a while now...” He took a deep breath. “Can we go somewhere to get something to eat?” Taking deep breaths hurt, but felt good at the same time. “Afraid I lost my lunch...”

“What lunch? You've eaten like, eight doughnuts, and four cups of coffee,” Scootaloo said, folding her arms at him.

He chuckled softly. “All the more reason...” He shook himself, realizing that he had almost lost consciousness. “Must you smoke those? You know I don't like that brand...”

“I can only ever find this brand here in London, Copper. You know it's not that often-” Chrysalis stopped, glancing back at him in the mirror. “Copper?”

“Hm?” His eyes opened, he had not realized he had closed them. “What?”

“You...are you all there?”

Copper stared blankly at her a moment and covered his face with his hands. “Ugh...there are...I don't know...fragments...from the old Copper...things that are forcing their way up... A voice...” He took another deep breath. “I don't know, something scratching at the back of my mind, seeping in through the cracks...” Another deep breath. “I feel like I'm going insane.”

“Too late for that,” Scootaloo said as she sat back, and Copper couldn't help but smile.

“Yeah...” he said as he relaxed in the seat. “Too late for that indeed.”

“I know a place a good distance away...I'll have to speak with my associates about what exactly happened in there...” Copper noticed how how tightly she was gripping the steering wheel. “I didn't even hear gunshots...” she muttered.

It was oddly comforting, all the concern he received on the trip to the small restaurant, though he got a lot of odd looks from the other patrons as he looked over the menu. He was doing his best to not get blood on it. His fingers hurt from punching the brick wall that was Sics and even holding the menu was some difficulty. “Iiiii don't recognize anything on here,” he said as he placed the menu down with a smile.

Scootaloo pointed at one of the dishes, without even looking. “You like that.”

“Fish and chips?” Copper said as he examined the menu. It was the first time he had actually looked at a menu since he got here. A lot had happened in the last month and he found it interesting how simple things were so alien to him.

Copper looked over at Nightingale, who was signing autographs again. Despite what she said she was apparently a fairly famous actress. Perhaps he could actually see how a movie was made... “What's your plans, Copper?” He looked at Chrysalis when she spoke.

He gave a slight shrug, knowing that she was just asking to try and pull his attention away from Nightingale and back to her. “I do the job, and go back to New York. Start searching again.”

“Are you sure Vonzinzer's information is credible?” She had ordered a small glass of wine and Copper was oddly fascinated by the way she slowly swirled it in the glass.

“Fairly sure. If it's just an attempt to throw me off, he went through quite a roundabout way of doing it.” He leaned back in the chair, catching himself a moment as he felt a slight lapse in consciousness. “I suspect a trap to be waiting for me, but I wont know until I get there.”

She was giving him quite a concerned look. “Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?”

“Don't bother,” Scootaloo said, still going over the menu. “I couldn't get him to go when he'd been stabbed, I doubt he'll go just cus he took a few punches.”

Copper chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “It'd just be a waste of time.”

“Honestly you're not even recovered from that stabbing,” Scootaloo continued. “I'm not surprised you got the snot beat out of you.”

This time he laughed. “Yeah. I'm a bit worse for wear.”

“And yet you seem entertained,” Chrysalis said with a frown. She practically glared at him over the wine glass.

He had to shrug again, this time it hurt but he ignored it. “I guess. There is a certain part of me that enjoys it, but for the most part I'd rather it just...” His gaze wandered down to the menu as he spoke. “I don't know. Stop.”

“Like you'll ever stop,” Scootaloo piped in, setting down her menu. “Not unless you were dead.”

Copper chuckled softly. “Yeah...probably.” He ran a finger around the rim of the glass of water in front of him. “But I'd rather not do that.”

Nightingale dragged herself away from the people wanting her attention in order to order food. Copper was fascinated by the fact that she was so popular. Scootaloo had been right about his taste in food and his mind wandered to how much she actually knew about him. He was watching her as she spoke with Chrysalis and Nightingale, discussing things that were quite normal. All of them seemed very adept at pulling themselves away from things and talking about things that Copper would think normal. It was something Copper had never been able to get the hang of; being normal. This was not normal. Here he was, eating strange food in a strange place in a strange body. “Hm?” Scootaloo had pushed a bottle of something towards him.

“Ketchup,” she said as she went back to her food. “Put some on your plate and dip stuff in it.”

He chuckled softly as he followed her instructions and they went back to their conversation. Copper was not paying attention to what they were talking about, something about clothes. He was trying to focus on eating and remaining conscious, though the later seemed easier now. Eventually he had to stop, his hands simply hurt too much to do the simple task of picking up anything. He pressed his knuckles to the cold glass of his drink, sighing softly. Fingers were another thing he was still getting used to. “Are you all right?” It seemed Nightingale had noticed his odd behavior.

“My fingers hurt...I'm not used to that. Fingers are...weird.” Everyone at the table was looking at him now. “I mean, they're useful and all but they seem really fragile at the same time. I can see why there are such advanced pieces of weaponry here. You have the dexterity and necessity to build intricate things.”

There were suddenly two chips, as they were called, held up in front of him. He looked past them to see Nightingale and Chrysalis glaring at each other; each one holding one up. He laughed and then doubled over slightly in pain, coughing. “Are you all right?” This time it was Chrysalis voicing concern.

“Yeah...fine...” He took a drink of water and leaned back in his seat. “I'm not completely helpless.”

“Yet,” Scootaloo added, which got her two glares from the other females at the table.

Copper chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess yet is a good way to put it...” He took a slow, deep breath before looking at the two who were still holding up chips and glaring at each other. “But...thanks, for your concern,” he said as he went back to eating.

The rest of the meal went on as normal as Copper could guess. There was an argument over who would pay the bill, Chrysalis or Nightingale, until Scootaloo suggested they split it and that ended it. Copper was sitting in the back of the car with Scootaloo once again. Chrysalis had gone to talk to the other Interpol agents in the car that was following them, while Nightingale was once again signing autographs.

“So which one do you like more?” Scootaloo said as she watched Nightingale.

“Hm?” He looked at her, realizing that he'd not given it much thought. “I dunno.” He relaxed more in his seat. “Honestly I don't think it really matters right now...I'll worry about that when I have time to think about things like that.” There was a certain edge that he felt at the back of his mind, as if once again something was pushing on him.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said, still not looking at him. “But they're both very pretty...”

Again he looked over at her, and then past her at Nightingale. “Yeah, they are. But there's more to it than beauty.”

“You were together with the Chrysalis in the other world, right? And you knew this...Nightingale there, too?” Copper realized that they had not discussed it as he had promised her he would.

“Yeah, her real name, if you could even call it that, is Nightmare.” Scootaloo finally looked back at him, confused. “Technically she's a...well, I suppose a monster would be the best way to describe her. She goes around, traveling the world of dreams and feeds off the fear of death. The more people that fear death, the more powerful she is.”

She gave him a look that she didn't exactly believe what he was telling her, before she looked back out the window. “Then she must be really powerful...”

“I'm not too sure...so far, I haven't seen her do anything more than some minor magic, things any unicorn could do.” Scootaloo shrugged in response. He looked at her as silence began to creep back in and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh don't give me that,” Copper said with a chuckle. “You may have been able to lie to the old Copper, but I'm good at knowing when somepony is fibbing.”

“I didn't lie to him,” she snapped.

Copper looked at her for a little longer before he sighed and pulled his hand away. “Then why are you lying to me?”

She didn't answer and Chrysalis opened the door to the car once more. “Okay, so we have some leads on Gilda. She's known to hang around the warehouse district, there's a big night club down there and- am I interrupting something?”

He shook his head. “No, I think we were done talking. For now.” It was bothering him that Scootaloo was not telling him something.

Chrysalis looked between the two of them a moment before she sighed. “All right then...well...so we'll head down to the warehouse district and see if we can pick up any leads down there.”

“Oh the warehouse district? I've not been there in years,” Nightingale said as she got back into the car. “There are some quite lovely little places down there.”

“Why does that not surprise me.” Chrysalis was glaring at her out the corner of her eye.

“And what does that mean?” Nightingale didn't even look at Chrysalis.

“Oh nothing, just not surprising that a person like you would skulk around those types of areas.” Chrysalis was fiddling with something that Copper could not see.

Nightingale made a tisking sound and turned away from Chrysalis. “I do not skulk. I leave that to people like you, miss Interpol.”

“Both of you knock it off,” Scootaloo snapped and then looked at Copper. “Are you just going to sit there and let them argue?”

He blinked and looked at her. “Hm? What?”

“You weren't even paying attention?” Scootaloo glared at him.

“No, I heard. Warehouse district.” There was still the extreme look of annoyance plastered on Scootaloo's face. “What? They're going to argue. I'm mostly tuning it out.” He took a deep breath and winced. These bruised ribs were going to be an extreme problem, as well as fractured knuckles, several cuts on the inside of his mouth and his eye hurt. Even his legs hurt. He hadn't realized it at first but some of the bullets had grazed him and he had several cuts. They were arguing again but Copper couldn't be bothered to listen. “All right, that's enough of that,” he said and they both went quiet.

“Ugh. Finally.” Scootaloo sat back in her seat with a huff.

Copper was thinking now. “Nightingale...or Chrysalis, I don't care which one.” Nightingale looked back and Chrysalis gave him a perplexed glance. “I need one of you to heal me.”

There was a moment of silence from all of them. “Copper...” Scootaloo was looking very concerned at him.

Nightingale turned a bit back to face him. “Copper, we can't do that. If you're feeling that bad, we should go to the hosp-”

“No. I don't have time to sit and recover. If you don't remember, there are people trying to kill me.” He closed his eyes. “The last thing I can afford is to sit still for a few weeks, or months.”

“It's too dangerous, Copper,” Chrysalis said. “Healing takes years, maybe decades off your life.”

“I don't think that that's going to matter. If I don't get some kind of healing, the next attempt on my life is going to succeed.” Chrysalis had pulled over and was looking back at him. “Frankly, I'd rather lose a few decades then die in a few hours.”

“He does have a point...” Nightingale said and both Scootaloo and Chrysalis glared at her.

But it was when Scootaloo gave a sigh and leaned back again with her arms folded that he knew he had won. “Fine.”

Copper smiled and ruffled her hair softly, and she batted his hand away. “I'll be sure to take it a lot more careful. I understand the limits of this body a lot better.” Even if there are still a lot of things I don't understand. “And as soon as I can do some work, I'll have plenty of surprises for them.”

“If you're sure,” Chrysalis said, though she was still frowning.

There was the immediate shift of both Chrysalis and Nightingale towards him and they bumped into each other, immediately turning and glaring at each other. “And what do you think you're doing?”

“I am going to heal him,” Nightingale snapped.

“Like hell you are. I'm going to heal him.”

“Both of you shut up and heal him,” Scootaloo snapped. “He's going to pass out.”

Copper chuckled softly. “Well, maybe...almost lost it a few times, but hey. I'm still up for now.”

Copper had been healed before, mostly before he knew of it's detrimental effects. Of course they were just little bruises and cuts, a few serious ones, but the loss of life had never bothered him. He had never thought he would live very long anyways. He guessed that his other self would probably wouldn't even live half the average span of a regular pony, but he was fine with it. Of course, this was nothing to say of when Madam Raven had had him.

But being healed by someone who cared for you was one of the best feelings he could think of. It was the pleasant feeling of being caressed by something hot that left trails of an odd bubbling sensation deep inside the bones. It did not take very long with the both of them healing him. He shuddered when the feeling had abated and he could not help but check his tooth, which was whole once more. “Thank you,” he said and smiled.

They were both still glaring at each other. “You're welcome,” they both said.

Chrysalis turned back and began driving once again. “Now you better not get hurt again.”

He smiled slightly. “No promises.” Scootaloo punched him in the shoulder, rather hard.

Hard enough that she had to rub her hand. “Don't even joke.”

His expression softened as he looked at her and ruffled her hair again. “All right. Sorry.” He relaxed in his seat, taking a deep breath and glad that it didn't hurt. In fact he felt really good, better than he had since he got this body. That caused him to think. “Scootaloo?”

“What?” She glared at him.

“Was I...” He paused. “Was there something wrong with me?”

She arched her brow at him. “You mean more than mentally?”

He chuckled softly. “Yes. Besides that. I feel...good.” The other two looked back at him. “Like...there was something wrong before...like I was sick. Perhaps I had some sort of disease?” He was more thinking out loud now. “Or maybe there was some sort of injury...” His mind wandered back to what Death had told him; the Copper in this world is dead and he is just in his body.

“If you were...you never said anything to me...but...maybe your liver? You did drink a lot,” Scootaloo suggested, looking quite concerned.

He nodded slightly, taking a deep breath. He had died of alcohol poisoning, so a damaged liver is not far out of the question. But that didn't feel like exactly what it was. Surely any liver problems he had were gone, but it felt like something worse. “Everyone always told me the drink would be what got me in the end...but there are worse things that were killing me.” Copper blinked, it was the voice in his head.

“That must have been it. But it's gone now,” he said and smiled at Scootaloo. “Good thing about healing magic, is that it'll heal things that you don't know about.”

There was a general agreement throughout the car.

It was hard to tell any building apart, all of them looked the same. Just dozens of large warehouses. The only way Copper knew where they were going, was the line outside. There were several different leads and places that Gilda could be, but Copper knew she would be here. Of course, he didn't tell anyone he knew where to go and let Chrysalis and Nightingale go and check out other places.

Of course, he couldn't shake Scootaloo, but then again he didn't want to. He wanted her nearby. “Well, this looks pretty exclusive...” Scootaloo muttered as she saw the line and the three bouncers who sent quite a few people away.

As Copper paid attention, about half of the people were turned away. “Yes. I'm trying to figure out how we're going to get in.” He had already scanned the line of oddly dressed ponies and griffons, but didn't see her, so either she was already in there, or not here yet. He had the feeling she was in there.

“Well, we could wait in line and try to get in that way, or just force our way in.”

“I thought about that. But those two diamond dogs'd probably kill me.” She gave him a slap on the arm and he laughed. “That's why it's not a plan. There's always sneaking in, or trying my passport thing.”

“I think they wouldn't let you in if they saw the badge on it.” Scootaloo was frowning at him. “This place doesn't look like a place that likes police.”

They were standing on the other side of the street and Copper was aware of the many in line that were looking at them. “I don't think the bouncers like us already, with the looks their giving us.”

“What about sneaking in?”

“Doors are probably locked, or there'll be someone big watching the door.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Think Burrasca could get us in?” he said with a vague gesture.

“I dunno, maybe? I mean, it would be difficult to- oh. Someone's coming over.”

Copper's focus returned from the building to the griffon coming across the street. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe. A friend of mine said she'd be in here, and invited us to come but we were debating whether it was worth waiting in line.” Copper was good at coming up with things like this. “Honestly I think it's not worth it...”

He pulled a pad out from his coat. “What's her name?”

“Gilda.” He was flipping through pages of the little notebook. “Gilda Crosswing.” They had come across her whole name.

“Well, there's a Gilda on the list, but she ain't Crosswing.”

“Told you she wouldn't use her real name,” Scootaloo said with a frown.

“Well she didn't give us any other name she was using,” Copper retorted. He was glad that she was so fast at picking up on things and improv. “I guess we'll just head home then.”

“Forget that. Night's still young, we can go to a bar or something.” Her attention turned to the bouncer. “Know any other clubs nearby that aren't so...exclusive?”

The bouncer looked at her a moment and then at Copper before glancing back. “Uh...give me one moment.” He headed back towards the other.

“Think that will work?” Scootaloo muttered to him.

“Maybe?” He watched the griffon talk with one of the other griffons while the two diamond dogs continued to turn people away. After a moment the griffon waved them over. “Looks like it's working.

The two of them crossed the street towards the griffons. “You know Gilda?”

Copper nodded. “Yeah. Friends of the family.”

That seemed to make the griffon nervous. “She don't talk about family, except how she can't stand them.”

“Well we're not part of the family,” Scootaloo said with a frown. “We keep out of the mucky stuff.”

The griffon looked hesitant, Copper was guessing that he was working out the pros and cons of letting two American's in when they weren't on the list. “All right, go on in. But only cus you know Gilda's full name, she don't give that out to people. And please, don't cause any trouble.”

Copper smiled. “Of course not, what kind of trouble would we even be able to cause?”

The two diamond dogs eyed him as they walked in. Scootaloo nudged him once they were out of ear shot. “You're nothing but trouble.”

“I do try.” She shook her head as they walked past the coat check. The female griffon eying them with heavy suspicion. The place was dark, lit oddly and there was loud music. Copper had never seen a club like this. “What would you call this place?”

“It's a night club. A grungy one, not like Burrasca's. It's a rougher place.” He could see a lot of people who were not dancing. “I don't think we'll find her in this.” He was following her around the outside edge. There were dozens of people leaning against the wall and there was a walkway that was barely clear before it became the dance floor. Though Copper could hardly call it a dance floor with the mass of people packed together to the point where it would be impossible to get through without shoving people. “Great. So even if she is here, we wont be able to find her.”

“Well, let's ask the bartender, or a waitress,” he suggested, looking around.

“What bartender? I don't even think this place sells alcohol for pities sake.” They came to a point where stairs led up to a sort of balcony and Copper followed Scootaloo up. She was thinking along the right line, getting a vantage point. But there was an angry looking diamond dog at the top, blocking the way.

“Where do you think you're going?” he snarled.

Scootaloo beat Copper to the punch, “We're lookin' for Gilda. You seen her?”

The diamond dog hesitated. “What you lookin' for her for?”

Scootaloo glared at the diamond dog. “Do you bloody know, or not? We're in a hurry.” To Copper's surprise, she actually pushed past the diamond dog, who actually just got out of the way, but it looked like she had shoved him.

“I...uh...she's across the way,” the diamond dog said and pointed, a very confused look on his face as Copper followed after Scootaloo.

Sometimes Copper forgot the sort of life Scootaloo had had. She was raised by Burrasca and was used to dealing with the more grimy side of the world. She was a lot tougher than she looked, even if it was an act for the most part. He saw how she was when she thought no one was looking, but she was always quick to put on a tough act. It was how she'd gotten by. When in the court room he had seen the fear in her eyes at the charges being placed against her, and the relief that was on her face when he stood up for her. Even though she would never admit it, there were times when he had seen her crying. Burrasca had betrayed her, and- wait, where were these thoughts coming from? He had to pause a moment as he again thought of the court room. But he hadn't been there. “Are you coming?” Scootaloo was glaring at him but her expression turned from annoyance to confused when she saw him. “What's wrong?”

“Things are...bubbling up again.” He rubbed his head, trying to chase away the beginning of a headache. “Just...give me a moment...” His head was spinning again and he leaned against the railing, staring out over the crowd of people trying to catch his breath.

4: Splinters

Copper realized immediately he had passed out as he gazed at the dreamscape. That was something he had not done in quite a long time; pass out. He hoped that Scootaloo would not be too panicked, but he remembered having sat down before losing consciousness. This was getting extremely annoying. He could not figure out why his head was so scrambled, or why he was a pony again.

There was sudden realization as he looked down at his hooves, rather than at his hands. He should have hands, not hooves. In the dreamscape of this world he had always had hands. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had had hooves. But he seemed to be the only thing different. The dreamscape was exactly the same, or at least this dreamscape was. “What the hell is going on...” he muttered as he shifted slightly, trying to get used to the old shape of his body.

“Haven't you figured it out?” Copper looked up at the shape of the thing that he had come to know as himself. Him as the Detective, in his coat and everything. The figure was glaring at him.

There was something obviously wrong, Copper knew immediately by looking at him. “No...” Copper said slowly, trying to figure out what was with this odd shade of himself.

“You have taken my body from me.” The figure moved towards him shakily.

“No, I was forced into it.” He paused before continuing, “And you are aware of this.”

“How you have taken it doesn't matter. I'm taking it back.” Copper was really getting a good look at himself for the first time in quite a while, or at least how the shade was portraying him.

“Well I'm using it. Now go away.” Copper was starting to get annoyed.

“I will leave when I have my body back.” The form wavered a bit before solidifying again. “You go away.”

“What even are you?” If he was going to argue with the thing it would be nice to know what it was he was dealing with.

“I'm Copper Feather,” it said with an irritated tone; obviously it was bothered by this argument as well.

“No, Copper Feather is dead.” Copper watched as the frustration formed on the figures face. “He died of alcohol poisoning weeks ago. His soul departed and I was put in its place.” Something clicked inside his head. “Which would make you...what was left. His mind?”

“I am Copper Feather. Now give me my body back.”

“Take it,” Copper said, eyeing the mind of Copper Feather. “If you can.”

Nothing happened for what felt like several minutes, but time in the dreamscape was irrelevant.

“That's what I thought...you're like the wolf outside the brick house; all talk and huff, but despite your best efforts you can't do anything.”

The frustration turned to anger as the shade glared at Copper. “I will have my body back.”

“And what would you do with it, hm?” Copper couldn't help but feel angry as well; the emotions seeping from the shade into himself. “What could you do? Would a drunk like you have been able to keep Scootaloo safe? Would you have had the brains to deal with Burrasca?”

Again silence seeped in.

But Copper wasn't about to let it last long. “You would probably be dead in that alley way outside Pink Wave, if you could have sobered up long enough to get there, and Scootaloo would have been all alone.”

“You think I don't know that?!” The shade swung his fist at Copper, but it passed through him harmlessly.

“And what would you do now, hm? You would have to find Gilda, then convince her to come back to New York. Then deal with Burrasca, and Octavia.” The shade simply glared at him. “You're just the leftover thoughts of a dead pony.”

“I. Want. My. Body. Back!” the shade was trying to fight Copper, but he wasn't about to give it the satisfaction.

“You cannot have it. You would do nothing but get us both killed.” Copper's words didn't seem to phase the shade. “And then what would become of Scootaloo?”

The shade stopped abruptly, staring blankly at Copper.

“You have no strength as it is. I understand the helpless feeling you have.” Copper was doing his best to repress the seething rage that was being forced into him and be diplomatic. “But you would not be able to do anything in the real world, even if you used every ounce of your strength. You wouldn't even be able to beat me, and the only thing your meddling is doing is risking our lives by distracting me.”

“I...I do not like what you are planning,” the shade said, looking down at Copper. It seemed that he had finally calmed down. “The things you think...the way you go about things. If you continue on this path against the Creator, you're going to start a war.”

“If he wants a war, then I'll-”

Scootaloo had slapped him rather hard, his hand going up to his cheek. “Ow,” he mumbled as he rubbed the spot.

“God damn it, Copper.” She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “When you said you needed to sit down I thought you meant just take a break, not take a little nap.”

He gazed a moment at the scowl on her face and returned it with a smile. “Sorry, didn't expect it.”

“Shaking you wasn't waking you up either.” She was rubbing her hand. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine.” Copper was slightly bothered at the fact he said that line so much. He was fairly certain it was just a reflex response now. Copper was glad that his little moment of unconsciousness had gone unnoticed by the crowd of people, who were obviously preoccupied with countless other things.

“You said that earlier and it turned out you weren't.” She glared at him for a bit, but then she sighed. “I think I spotted her, or at least someone who looks a bit like they could be her...” Scootaloo said as she nodded her head towards a group of griffons.

Copper knew her immediately. “Yeah, she's over there...” he said as he stood up and tried to shake whatever odd feeling he had in the back of his head. “Right then...let's see what sort of mood Gilda is in today...”

He was aware at how Scootaloo walked slightly behind him, using him as some sort of shield against the griffons. He wondered if due to her dealings with Burrasca she was defensive towards griffons on default. “-and then I- Who the hell are you?” The group had turned towards Copper and Scootaloo.

“Gilda, a word with you a moment?” Copper said, focusing on her and ignoring the other griffons of the group. There were four other griffons with her, one of which Copper was fairly certain would be able to take him down no problem.

All of them looked at Gilda, who was looking at Copper. “You know this guy, Gilda?” one of the griffons asked as he eyed Copper.

“I'll just be a minute, guys,” Gilda said as she separated herself from the group. “C'mon, this way.” Gilda walked quite briskly off to the side and Copper and Scootaloo followed after. They came into a side room, which looked like a private party room of some sort. “All right, the hell do you want?” Gilda asked as she shut the door. “I recognize Scootaloo, but you I don't know.” She was glaring at Copper.

“Well if you know Scootaloo I'm fairly certain that you've already made an assumption as to why we are here.” He was about to sit down but noticed something rather unpleasant on the seat and decided against it. “My name is Copper Feather, I'm a detective from New York.”

Copper saw how Gilda's face scrunched slightly and her brow furrowed. Griffons were harder to read than ponies due to their beak, but Copper had had practice. Especially when dealing with Gilda. “So you're Copper Feather. Back when I was still talking with my father, he mentioned that you had taken Scootaloo from him.”

“Yes I suppose that's one way of looking at it.” Copper decided that leaning against the wall didn't look like a good option as it didn't look any cleaner than the couch.

“My father sent you, didn't he?” She had her arms folded in front of her. Maybe it was something about Gilda that scared Scootaloo, as she was still partially hidden behind him and remaining quiet.

“Yes, he did. He wants you to come to New York.” Copper watched as her stance and expression became even more defensive.

“Well, I'll tell you exactly what I've said to every other blasted person he's sent to fetch me. No. Piss off. I'm not going anywhere. You can go and tell that griffon bastard that I'm quite happy to live my life as far away from him as possible!”

“All right,” Copper said with a slow nod.

“What?” Gilda and Scootaloo both said.

“What? My job was to try and get Gilda to come back. She doesn't want to, therefore I have tried. Gilda was not the main focus of me coming here, I only did this as a favor for Burrasca as I was going to be in the area.” He moved past Gilda towards the door. “Sorry to interrupt, have a good evening, Gilda.”

“That's it?” Gilda said, eying him. “You mean you're not gonna try and convince me, or nothing?”

“Why would I bother? You seem quite determined to stay here. Besides...” He smiled at Scootaloo who was standing at his side. “I have a war to start.”

“Wait, what?” Scootaloo partially blocked him from opening the door. “The hell are you talking about?”

“It's something that I've realized. It's what is going to happen if I go against the Creator...I don't like the thought of it, but that's the feeling I'm getting.” He had to admit that the shade of the old Copper was right, this would start a war, the question would be: how large of a war?

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gilda echoed Scootaloo's words.

“Nothing that concerns you.” He saw as Gilda's face skewed into annoyance. “After all, you're staying here. So it'll be no problem for you.”

“The hell it wont. I was born before the war. I had to try and get through my childhood through that damned war. War effects everyone,” Gilda was growing increasingly annoyed, but Copper could hear the slight frantic tone in her voice.

“Yes, that's true. But how large this war will be is yet to be determined. The Creator has more allies than I do and I honestly don't know if I'd even stand a chance against him.” He was looking at Scootaloo, who was glaring at him in a similar manner to how Gilda was glaring at him.

“You're talking like a crazy person,” Scootaloo said softly.

Copper laughed. “That's because I'm crazy.” He gentle pushed Scootaloo to the side and opened the door. Much to the surprise of the griffon on the other side. “Evening.” Copper didn't hesitate to plant his foot firmly between the griffons legs and watch him crumple.

“What the hell?!” Gilda shouted as she ran towards him. “That's Jerome, what the hell are you-”

He stomped down and pinned the griffons hand to his chest. “Don't you dare,” Copper snapped as he pulled the gun out from under the griffons coat before he could get any closer to it. “I've had quite enough of people shooting at me today, thank you.” He holstered it in his own holster after moving his passport to the inner pocket of his jacket.

Gilda stared down at the griffon known as Jerome. “What the hell are you doing with a gun, Jerome?!”

“Yeah, Jerome,” Copper said as he crouched down, putting more of his weight on his wrist and therefore his chest. “Why do you have a gun?” The griffon spat at him. It had been quite a while since Copper had had anyone spit at him. He wiped his cheek. “That is disgusting, honestly why do people do that?” He pulled out his new found gun, placing it against the griffons forehead. “Let's try this again. Why did you have a gun, Jerome?”

“Does it really matter?” Scootaloo said, looking down at the griffon who was struggling to form words. “Whether he's just some punk with a gun or one of the Creators flunkies doesn't really matter.”

Copper paused as he looked at the griffon. “You're quite right.” He slapped the griffon with the side of the gun and then stood up, holstering the gun as he stepped out of the room.

“Was the pistol whip necessary?” Scootaloo said with a frown.

“Well if he's just a punk with a gun, it'll make him rethink his life a bit-”

“I think you cracked his beak,” Scootaloo said as she stepped over the writhing griffon.

“And if he's with the Creator...well he probably wont be getting up to chase us anytime soon.” Copper walked at a fairly quick pace. “I wonder if there's a back way out of here...I have a feeling there's going to be trouble if we go out the front door...”

“Yeah, this way. Follow me.” Gilda was suddenly with them, gesturing off behind them before heading in that direction.

“I thought you weren't coming with?” Scootaloo said before Copper could comment.

“Shut up and let's get out of here.” Apparently she was re-evaluating her current position in London.

The way that Gilda moved quickly into the back area of the club, without a problem from any of the bouncers or other patrons was rather impressive. Obviously she was well known here. They ended up leaving the club through a back door and ended up in the alley behind. “Well that was easy,” Scootaloo said as she eyed both directions.

Copper did the same. “Yes...well...sometimes things go that way.”

“So am I going to be able to stop by my place and pack?” Gilda said with a frown at the two of them.

“Oh? So you really are intent on coming?” He found it fairly funny that she had been so easily manipulated.

“I'll come to New York, but I will have nothing to do with Burrasca.” She had her arms folded, and Copper noted that it was actually fairly cold out.

“That's fine.” He pulled the gun out, dropping it into a storm drain before returning his passport to the holster and holding his coat out to Gilda. “And yes, we have time to go to your apartment. Chrysalis and Nightmare should be back there by now waiting for us.”

“We might have needed that,” Scootaloo said with a frown, looking at the storm drain.

“No we don't, you still have my gun.” Scootaloo frowned more at him as if hoping he had forgotten. “But I'm assuming you meant that two guns are better than one?”

Gilda had taken his coat and put it on. He found it humorous how things seemed to have come full circle. “Enough about the damn gun,” Gilda snapped and began walking down the alley, holding the coat tightly around her.

Copper was quite aware at how cold it was without his jacket, his breath fogging up in front of him as he followed after Gilda. “No other affairs to put in order?”

“I knew I'd have to leave in a hurry eventually...” Her home wasn't terribly far and she was keeping to back alleys. “So no. Nothing else to do but pack my things. You've got a ride out of here, yeah?”

“Several,” Copper said as he looked up and down an almost empty road as they crossed it. A few cars and people going about their evenings, but nothing that caught his attention. “Hopefully you have a phone.”

“Of course I have a phone,” she said with a scowl at him.

“Most people have phones, Copper,” Scootaloo said, looking up at him.

“Ah, well...there are some who don't, right?” Scootaloo nodded. “So better to check.” He was really starting to feel the cold now as the night continued on, but he had been in far colder situations that made this seem warm. Or perhaps he was going numb and was imagining the warmth.

“I don't see Chrysalis's car,” Scootaloo said as she nudged Copper.

“We must have beaten them back, then,” he said as he looked around. He was quite certain that what Nightingale and Chrysalis had set off to do would take less time than them, but apparently he was wrong. “Still...gives us a bit of time for Gilda to get packed and for us to make the phone call.”

Gilda lived in a fairly run down loft, but the building was structurally sound and from what he had seen of her loft it was well furnished. “You guys didn't...go in, did you?” Gilda asked as they were heading up the stairs.

“No, but we did have a look through the fire escape.” Scootaloo gave him a slight slap across the arm. “What?” He chuckled softly. “We had to make sure that you weren't home and just ignoring us.”

“Yes but that's rude,” Scootaloo said with a frown at him.

“Oh, so it would have been better if we hadn't told her we'd looked in?”

“Yes,” both Gilda and Scootaloo said at the same time.

Copper shrugged. “Noted.”

They stopped at her floor and Copper immediately pushed Scootaloo and Gilda to the wall. “What-”

“Sh.” He made a sort of grabby hand gesture towards Scootaloo and after a moment she pulled out his gun with a sigh and handed it to him. Then she spotted what had caused Copper to stop, just after Gilda had. The door of her loft was gone, nothing left of it but splinters in the hallway. He peeked inside the gaping hole that had been a door at some point, looking around the room. He held the gun back out to Scootaloo, who took it and stowed it wherever it was that she hid things. “Well they came and went in a hurry.”

The door was several feet away, quite busted up. “What did that to the door, do you think?” Scootaloo asked as Gilda moved passed them into the room.

“Damn it, not all of this is my stuff!” she said as she started sifting through the wreckage. Furniture had been flipped and smashed, her bed had been slashed open and her dresser was in pieces with her clothes scattered all over the room.

“I'm just going to assume a clockwork,” Copper said with a frown as he moved over to the window overlooking the alley. There was a fire escape there that they had used to get a look inside the loft a few hours ago. “It must have been soon after we left...”

Gilda was grumbling and picking up her clothes off the floor. “Blasted bastards...this is one of my favorite tops...why'd they have to rip this one? Of all the tops, why this one?” Copper only heard little snippets of what she was saying.

Copper was examining the door. “Phone still work, Scootaloo?”

“I'll check.”

The door had been practically exploded into several chunks and splinters. In fact, much of it was splinters. “It was hit in a large area,” Copper heard the shade inside his head talking. “Larger than a foot or hand-held battering ram.”

“It hit near center, partially towards the door handle...mounted on the right side?” he muttered to himself.

“Most likely. Several feet wide and having an odd shape to cause the most damage.”

“Not meant for taking down doors, that's for sure...” He tried to ignore the fact that the shade was trying to be helpful now.

“Not wooden doors, at least. Probably for cars or trains. Maybe airships, but most definitely something for metal.”

“Why would they have brought that, though...” He picked up one of the splinters, turning it and noting the small little holes in the wood.

“Phones still working, had to dig it out from behind the couch,” Scootaloo said as she came up to him.

“Probably just what they had readily available,” the shade said.

“Lockpick would have been simpler...” He turned to Scootaloo. “Thank you. Let's make that phone call and tell Burrasca the status.”

Gilda frowned at him. “You're going to call him?”

“He's plan A for getting back to New York,” Copper said as he followed Scootaloo to what was left of the couch; it had been broken in half. “Jeez...what were they even looking for?” He looked over at Gilda.

“I don't know. Most valuable thing I had in here was clothes. Which they've destroyed most of.” She was holding up a shredded shirt.

“Large metal claws,” the voice said. “Left hand. Definitely a clockwork. Some sort of ramrod bashing for a right arm, large metal claws for a left. There were designs for it on one of Doctor Vonzinzer's desk.” Copper paused mid step, running through his memory for what he had looked over. It was a wheeled thing with six legs and two arm like things. One of which was a sort of over the top battering ram with the other being a clawed hand. It was meant for searching wreckage’s. It was a long device to snake through hallways and tunnels.

“Right...” He rubbed his face a bit, at least he knew that something as terrifying as that was on the loose somewhere. But what was it looking for? Us? Gilda? “Could you do the- oh.”

Scootaloo was already holding the phone out to him and he took it, taking a deep breath. It was the same voice who had answered last time. “Who is this?”

“Copper Feather, I need to speak to Don Burrasca.”

Again there was a hesitation. “Fine, one moment.”

It actually took several minutes before Copper actually heard anything. “-and be quicker about telling me who is calling!” Someone picked up the phone. “Yes? Copper?” He sounded out of breath.

“Something going on, Burrasca?”

“What? No. I was simply taking a bath.” There was a slight tone of annoyance to his voice. “I do hope that this isn't about more police troubles.”

“Not at the moment. I just wanted to inform you that we need a ride back.” He sat down on the remnants of the couch.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Then...you have spoken with my daughter?”

“Yes.” He watched as Gilda started to pack up the clothes that were not damaged.

“And? Has she agreed to come to New York?”

“She has, with a condition.” Scootaloo was helping her sort through wreckage now for more clothes. “She wants nothing to do with you.”

There was another pause before Burrasca spoke, regaining his composure. “That's to be expected. I'm...sure that it will take quite a bit of warming up, as it were.”

“Could start with clothes,” Copper suggested. “She's recently lost quite a lot, judging by this pile...” He was looking at the pile of ruined clothes.

There was another pause on the other line. “I...see...I'm sure that there must be some sort of explanation as to why her clothes are destroyed?”

“One that I hope to not find out considering what it did to her loft.” He nudged a but of debris with his foot.

Again there was a pause. Copper had to admit he was having a bit too much fun stringing Burrasca along in such a manner. “And what did it do to her loft?”

“Trashed it. Whole place is in shambles, like someone decided they hated every single piece of furniture in the room and got ahold of a wrecking ball.”

“But she is all right, yes?”

There was the odd feeling of a switch being flicked in the back of Coppers mind. “He is feigning interest,” the voice in his head said.

Don't be absurd. He looked at Gilda a moment and then out the window. That is is his daughter. But there was this odd feeling as though Burrasca wasn't actually interested. “Yeah, she's fine. She wasn't here when when it happened. We just walked into it.”

“That's good. I shall arrange for your trip back with all haste.” There was the noise of movement and scraping from the other line. “I will contact Chrysalis with the address, as she is the easiest to get a hold of. If she is still traveling with you?”

Copper assumed he was making a memo to himself, or a note to someone. “Yes, she's still part of my little...group.” He couldn't shake an uneasy feeling he was getting suddenly, but he couldn't tell if it was from Burrasca or from something else. He wasn't sure if he imagined the movement in the alley, or if there was something moving around down there. “I'll let you go...I think things are about to get a little bit more complicated.”

“I'm sure you can handle it.” There was a click.

He frowned as he hung up the phone, staring down at the alley. “He has his own agenda.” Of course he does, he's Don Burrasca, he always has an alternative motive to anything. “How long will it involve you?” He did not like how the voice was trying to make him think of things that he was already trying to work out.

“That is the question, isn't it?” he mumbled. “In more ways than one...how long before I become useless?” That was something that he hated to think about. He knew eventually he'd be useless; unable to help or do anything. He placed his hand on his cheek, the slap Scootaloo had given him still made his cheek feel hot. He put pressure on it, trying to avoid going down this thought road again. “Hm?” Someone had said something to him.

“I said, what are you doing?” Scootaloo was glaring at him from the other side of a stack of bags. Apparently Gilda had finished packing.

“Thinking and watching,” he said calmly as he looked at the pile of bags. “All packed?”

“Yes, I think I am.” Gilda lifted two bags and began moving them towards the hole that had been the door.

“Wait.” Copper had realized that he hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around him. Once again the shade had gotten him off topic and unfocused. He made his way past her quickly and looked out into the hall. “Maybe I'm just being paranoid...” he muttered as he stared out at the empty hall.

“Got that feeling again?” Scootaloo said from his side, looking out into the hallway again.

He looked at her and smiled a bit. “Yeah. But I can't be sure why I'm getting it. All I know is something is wrong.” He leaned against the wall beside the open door, folding his arms. “Something somewhere...”

Gilda frowned at him. “The hell are you talking about?” She put her bags down beside the door. “Don't help me by the way, oh no, I've got it.”

Copper chuckled softly as he began helping her move the bags. “Just something that happens to me. I get this weird feeling when things are wrong, or when something is about to happen. Good instincts, I've been told.” There were six bags. Copper wondered if in those six bags was all she owned.

“Maybe it's about your Chrysalis friend?” Gilda suggested as she stood up an overturned chair. “Can't be that long to-”

Copper barely had time to react as the window exploded. He heard what sounded like gunfire and half expected to see Scootaloo with the gun, but he realized that he had actually grabbed her and pulled her into the hallway to avoid debris. Of course now the gun reappeared and they rushed back into the room. Gilda had leaped over a table, avoiding the debris herself. Copper saw red lights on what looked like some sort of insect like head. It was almost exactly like the drawing Copper had seen in Doctor Vonzinzers room. Apparently it had been watching the window and waited for Copper to stop watching before climbing the fire escape.

Blam blam blam blam. Scootaloo didn't hesitate to open fire on the thing. “The hell? Not even a scratch?” It did recoil and press itself against the wall as it searched for the hole with its back legs.

Everyone in the room stared at Scootaloo, as well as the clockwork contraption which had found the hole it had made and was now making its escape. “Well at least it's leaving,” Gilda said as she turned the attention of everyone back to the clockwork.

“I guess it thought we had something or someone that we don't,” Copper said with a frown as the thing made its way out the window slowly and down the fire escape.

“Does this weird stuff always happen around you people?” Gilda said with a glare.

“Well...not really.” Copper slowly followed it over to see where it was going.

“Not really!?” Scootaloo shouted at him, stomping towards him. “In the last few days, we have been kidnapped by pirates, fought some weird aliens. Aliens!” She was angrily reloading the gun as she was yelling at him. “We traveled across the world in a magic box, fixed some sort of magical rift in the universe,” she snapped the chamber of the gun closed, “Then you fight some blasted clockwork in a burning warehouse, you fight some mad scientist who tries to kill you, then battle some sort of rogue government agents, and that's just today! And you have the nerve to say not really!?” She threw the empty shells at him.

“All right...so this stuff happens a lot.” She stomped away from him, grumbling and muttering. “Especially recently.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I'm just so used to this stuff happening to me from the other world that it just doesn't seem weird to me.” He looked down in the alley at the the clockwork, which was settling itself back down in its alcove in the alley. “So that's where you were hiding...” He looked back at Gilda. “Are you all right?”

She was holding her shoulder. “Yeah, fine...just...nicked by a chunk of the wall.”

Copper took a few steps towards her when he heard the clearing of a throat and a slight knock. “Everything all right?”

Copper stared a moment at the police officer griffon. “Oh yes, quite fine,” Scootaloo said with thick sarcasm. She had hidden the gun quite quickly.

“Scootaloo.” Copper frowned at her and she rolled her eyes. “Just a...rough night.”

“Are you the tennant?” the officer said, Copper noticed how he stayed outside the room.

“No, that would be-”

“Me,” Gilda said as she moved a bit forward. “Gilda Crosswing, I've been renting this flat for seven months.”

“May I come in?” The griffon was looking around the room.

“I-”

“No,” Copper interrupted Gilda as he walked towards the officer.

“Excuse me?” the griffons eyes narrowed on Copper.

“I said no.”

“You are not the owner of this flat, so you do not have any legal right to decline my request. Ms. Crosswing?”

“Copper-”

“Ya know, I had a thought,” again he interrupted her, but he made note how the griffon made no attempt to get inside as he approached. “Just a bit of something I noticed. I've never seen an officer, here, or in New York, who traveled alone.” The officer blinked owlishly at him. “It begs the question, where's your partner?” He pointed upwards as if having just thought of something. “Oh! I know the answer. It's that clockwork in the alley.”

“What are you blathering about?” the officer snapped.

But Copper had noticed the flicker of panic and uncertainty. “You were surveying the room just now.” Copper was just on the other side of the doorway. “You were looking for something in particular, and I noticed that subtle downturn of your beak in disappointment.”

“The hell are you talking about?” seemed to be the words that left everyone’s mouths simultaneously.

“When you regain consciousness, tell the Creator I'll see him soon.” The griffon reached for something but as Copper grabbed either side of the door-frame and planted his foot firmly into the griffons ribs the griffon quite forgot what it was he was doing. Bashing into the wall on the other side of the hall was not much better for his thought process and he slumped over. “That is, if you even remember it after that.”

“Copper?! What the hell?!” Gilda and Scootaloo both rushed towards him.

But Copper simply picked up two of Gilda's bags and looked back at them. “I'm not going to play nice anymore.”