Those Thirty Days

  Keen walked up to the administrator's office, taking a deep breath before knocking. Having already spoken to the secretary, she knew she was allowed inside, but she still felt it necessary. A voice from within telling her that it was alright to come on in. Keen took another breath before pushing the door open, entering the administrator's office while shutting the door behind her. The stallion behind the desk set aside a mountain of papers, looking up at Keen.

  "Miss Caramel Swift, was it? What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. Keen stepped a bit closer to his desk until she was within range to talk lowly enough that anypony outside wouldn't hear.

  "I know it isn't my place to warn you, but I have a friend who works in the F.P.D. who has told me a judge has just sealed a court order, a warrant, allowing the police to search our facilities entirely." Keen said, only hoping that it would gain the response she was hoping for. The pony regarded her carefully.

  "This... friend of yours, are they a trustworthy source of information? And how exactly did that subject come into your knowledge, or have they simply been feeding you everything that comes and goes in that office?" The pony asked pointedly.

  "They are trustworthy, they pride themselves in their honesty. As to how it came about... well..." Keen scratched the back of her neck. "We kind of had a small get together last night and, well... let's just say alcohol makes tongues dance a very fine jig." The pony nodded in reply.

  "I suppose it does." The stallion agreed slowly. "Is there anything else she divulged in her inebriated stupor that is of note? An example being when they intend to use said warrant, or what they anticipate finding."

  "My friend made it rather clear the Fillydelphia Police Department was quite busy with several cases at the moment, and the specific case they are looking into that concerns us is of lower priority, though they do expect to use it either lat afternoon today or before noon tomorrow." Keen supplied. "She said that because of all the cases, another way the search will be impacted is that they will only be able to spare roughly four or five ponies to look through everything. As for what they hope to find... to be honest, she wasn't sure, just something about projects that might over step the bounds of contractual agreements, whatever that implies."

  "My dear Caramel, what that implies is a great deal, but more specifically, a great deal of bits out of our pockets, and a great deal of unwanted negative press." The pony replied. "Now, usually I'd say at this point that we can never be sure and that it was most likely a false piece of information, I think this friend of yours and the circumstances in which she told you lend a certain air of credibility to your story." He then pressed a button on his intercom. "Attention, attention, files in sections thirty-two to forty-seven are to be relocated to safety zone Alpha Omega Three under protocol Hierarch. This is not a drill, please go to preordained positions for protocol Alpha Centurion. Code Orange, repeat Code Orange. All civilians and non-employees are to exit the building through designated areas. Code Red to be initiated after civilian evacuation." The stallion then released the button and looked towards Keen. "Thank you for giving me this information, is there anything else?"

  "Just one thing, sir." She said. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak with an attorney and to have an attorney present during questioning. If you do not have an attorney and cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you before questioning. Do you understand and consent to these warnings as I have explained them to you?" Keen said, going through the rights as she remembered them. The administer chuckled slightly.

  "I guess that does explain how you know about the warrant, though it still is interesting that you got through background checks with a police record. Tell me, Miss Caramel Swirl, does your coltfriend know you work with the F.P.D.?" He asked pointedly.

  "Are you relinquishing your right to remain silent?" Keen asked in response, gaining an annoyed groan from the pony. "But to answer your question," She said, turning to tear off the cutie mark from her flank, happy to finally have it off, "Caramel Swirl had nothing to do with the Fillydelphia Police Department, my name is Keen Eye, Private Investigator." She said, a smile growing across her face. "And for your information, the police were the only 'civilians' inside today. You got three quarters of the department running through your complex as we speak, so files from section thirty-two to forty are being transferred to the evidence section of the F.P.D., not Alpha Omega Three."

  "Well played... but I fear that in terms of legality we are cleaner than a newborn foal." The administrator stated with a wry smile. "Everything we did in here was to contract with ample reparations as per contract." He then leaned forward dangerously. "So have fun searching through four hundred thousand, six hundred seventy-three files that carry an average of three hundred twenty pages of eight point type, fitting approximately five hundred words per page. An approximate reading time for it all is roughly ten months, two weeks, six days, ten hours, fifteen minutes, and eleven point five seconds, give or take a few."

  "Well, in regards to the legality of the issue, I think projects Illusions, Solitaire, Ghost Town, and Cat and Mouse have a few things to say, especially Cat and Mouse, since no contract was signed under willing circumstances is under any circumstances." Keen said with her own smile. "I also so happen to have recordings from Project Solitaire in my possession that can be provided as evidence, but more specifically, damning evidence. So before you get to cozy, I suggest you reconsider and try for some leniency with the court by pointing us at the right files. We already have a good idea what you've done, and in the very least, the defamation of character of your former test subjects after they pressed charges is enough to set you back a few months, and even if the courts find you innocent of charges of violation of contract and inequine treatment of ponies, the press will certainly love a good story about how the F.R.I. has been treating ponies, which will reduce your already thin ranks of employees, not to mention altogether cut you off from refreshing your staff. Now, I'm no economist, in fact I took a masters in Law and Criminal Justice when I was at college, but I do believe that without employees, even if you have a massive bank account, things tend to either stagnate, or more likely, go downhill. So, what's it gonna be?" By the time Keen was finished with her rant, the administrator pony was fuming, his brows furrowing ever more as he gave Keen, who through it all was giving a devilish smile, a death glare.

  "I plead silence." He said simply, pushing away from his desk and away from his chair. Keen nodded, quickly taking off the security uniform before leading him out, all the while smiling.

"Well, that's a wrap, the F.R.I. is closed down at least temporarily, with all projects terminated and all test subjects released. We have enough instances of breaching of contract to empty their pockets and enough stories to dissuade any sensible pony from seeking a job there." The chief of the Fillydelphia police said with a short nod. "Soon enough everypony who has been wronged by them will be getting what they deserve, including you. I'll see to it personally that a special restitution fund is set aside within the Fillydelphia Research Institute bank accounts, something I know they can afford."

  "I'm more than glad with the outcome as it stands now." Keen admitted. "All I want to see happen now is that the ponies that suffered through experiments like Ghost Town and Illusions are given proper compensation for what they've been through. I barely went through anything in comparison."

"In a court of law all that means is a smaller part of the restitution fund being allocated to your name." The pony replied. "I can only hope that the pony that gave you this case is pleased with the results, you certainly did a great job in making the F.R.I. face the music for its actions." Keen nodded slowly.

  "That is an interesting point though. The pony who gave me the case never told me who they were, or even what they wanted me to look into. I simply took it in the direction of making the F.R.I. pay for what it has done to the ponies that were the subjects of their experiments." Keen admitted. "The letter that came with the initial case material said that I would figure it out."

  "Well, I guess that if this wasn't what they wanted you to do then they can just go sulk somewhere else, because I think that taking down an untouchable corrupt company is a pretty good day and a very well done job." The police mare said with a smile. "I hope your employer sends you a notification soon." Keen only nodded in response.

  Keen walked down the hall, looking at each cell as she passed, the ponies inside for unknown reasons for her, but she was more focused on a certain cell number she had yet to see. Beside her, Lodestone walked, looking at the cells on the opposite side of the cell block in the same silence. Eventually they came to it, Keen having spotted it first. Inside, a brown earth pony mare lay asleep. Keen knocked a hoof against the cell bars, which caused the pony to roll over and look out at them. When her eyes fell on them they went wide in shock, looking between Keen Lodestone, only to narrow as they fell solely on Keen.

  "Let me go this instant, I have no reason to be in here." She hissed, taking several dangerous steps towards the pair.

  "That's why I'm here, Caramel Swirl." Keen replied simply, catching the mare off guard. "But I'd like to explain certain things before I do so that we are all on the same page." Caramel sighed, sitting down on the cold hard floor, motioning with her hoof for Keen to continue. "I, as you probably have been told before, am a private investigator. I was assigned a case on the F.R.I. as few weeks ago by an unknown client who had unknown motives for giving said case to me, though I doubt it was simply done for fun." Caramel nodded as if she had heard the whole spiel before. "When you attempted to capture me, the fact we sounded quite a bit similar and looked near identical to me gave me an idea of how to get more of an inside perspective on what I was investigating. Using you uniform and a fake cutie mark, I entered the F.R.I. under the guise of being... well, you." Keen said, to the shock and appalled expression of Caramel, a mare she felt she had gotten to know through an odd way.

  "W-wait, that means you must've met..." Caramel's eyes grew wider still as a dawning realization came upon her. "D-did you?"

  "I met Ganache, yes. He is a nice stallion, and I made sure I didn't advance you're relationship to far without your presence, though I will have to fill you in on a few details." Keen said, hoping that it was comforting in some small measure. Caramel seemed to relax a bit at the news, though she still seemed uncomfortable. "I did assume you wished to further the relationship, and said as much on your behalf to Ganache." Caramel looked up to Keen.

  "Thank you, I... I don't think I would've actually told him that... that..." Keen waved a hoof to silence her.

  "Either way, another major thing that I should tell you is that he thinks you knew a pony by the name of Lodestone back in middle school, and that said pony help you in geography." Keen said, getting odd looks from both Caramel and Lodestone.

  "Uh, yeah, about that..." Lodestone began.

  "I actually did attend middle school with Lodestone, here, and he did, in fact, help me with geography." Caramel admitted. "I was actually the pony who told him about the open position in the F.R.I. as a survival trainer."

  "That's true." Lodestone confirmed. "When you mentioned that I just thought you had done your research and had figured out that information for yourself. I guess that it was just a lucky guess." Keen looked between the two in shock.

  "It is nice to see you again, Lodey." Caramel said with a small smile.

  "Yeah, she doesn't know about that piece of our history." Lodestone chuckled. "For as much as she knows, or had made up, we were just friends and nothing more." Keen's jaw reached all new levels of being dropped. "Even so, the same to you, my little Caramel candy." A record which was promptly broken. Quickly regaining some of her composure, Keen looked at the two of them.

  "So, should I have told Ganache that Lodestone was competition, or was telling him that he wasn't in any danger a good move?" Keen asked, unsure of how the other stallion might react. Caramel tapped her chin in thought.

  "Depends on your definition of competition." Lodestone said playfully. "I mean, I have heard that after dating another mare for three months, Whetstone got back together with Haute Couture." Caramel's eye lit up.

  "Really? I always hoped they'd get back together, but I'd never thought they would." Caramel said, only to have her eyes narrow in to dangerous, yet playful, slits. "Maybe they aren't the only ponies from those years who might get back together." For a few moments the two ponies looked at each other with looks that Keen couldn't read, but then they broke into laughter, leaving Keen sighing in frustration.

  "I guess I'll just leave you two to catch up then." Keen muttered before taking out the key and giving it to Lodestone. "Here, let her out when you feel like it..." Keen then narrowed her eyes as a playful, and almost knowing, smile crept across her face, "Unless of course you'd want some private time." Lodestone stared blankly at Keen before shaking his head.

  "My goodness, we've infected her, we have officially ruined one of the only decent mares left in Fillydelphia." Lodestone muttered to Caramel, who snickered in response as Keen moved on, allowing the two to catch up with each other, she had other things to attend to.