Chapters The lab was tables and shelves. They were empty. A desk bore stacks of books and papers. A pony’s horn glowed. His coat was sirocco and his mane shark-black. His magic was amber. A notebook landed atop the smallest pile. The pony sighed and rubbed his chin. He tightened a travel bag and blinked at the desk. He sighed. He walked to the desk and split two piles. He flicked through a sheaf. He stopped and closed his eyes. He grimaced. He levitated the papers into order. He turned and walked. He ran his hooves over the empty tables. He reached the wall. He patted it, smiling. ‘A cold, empty, cruel farewell,’ he muttered. ‘But no. Goodbye is never good. So it is, and I cannot make it right.’ He smirked. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Right.’ He walked. He patted the desk. He brushed a book. He sighed. He tapped the notebook. He paused. He picked it up. He licked his teeth. He opened it. He read:
… In the extremities of the following regions are those most critical points of contact, whose…
He stopped. He smiled and shook his head. He snorted. ‘As if I don’t know,’ he muttered. He turned. He eyed the door. The notebook floated in front of him. His horn flashed, and the pages burst into flame. ‘You won’t take this one from me,’ he said. ‘Not this one.’ Ash gathered and scattered. His horn shimmered and it vanished. He looked at the desk. ‘A slave to you no longer,’ he said. ‘Bad-bye, then.’ He turned, opened the door and walked out. He blinked and swallowed. A soldier was standing in the corridor. He wore a white jacket, white trousers and a white cap. On his shoulders were various patches. He had been leaning against the wall. He stood to attention and saluted.
‘Major Masterduke,’ he said. ‘Colonel Spruce wishes to see you.’
‘Yes,’ said Masterduke. ‘I know.’ He hoisted his bag and walked away from the lab.
Colonel Spruce stood in the atrium. Masterduke descended the stairs. He walked to the Colonel and stood before him. They eyed each other. The Colonel opened his hooves. Masterduke reciprocated. They embraced. ‘How silly the question,’ said Spruce as they parted, ‘yet I shall ask it. Until something is done, something may change. Are you decided?’
Masterduke nodded. ‘I am now.’
‘Then I shan’t see you again.’ He smiled at Masterduke’s look. ‘Come now, you know my hypotheses.’
‘Assume the worst?’ said Masterduke.
‘Exactly,’ said Spruce. He wasn’t smiling anymore. ‘You’re a scientist. What can you offer out there that you cannot do better here? I have tried to understand, but I don’t. Will you tell me?’
Masterduke rubbed his chin. ‘We’re crippled by distance. How can I improve my spells’ efficacy without access to who’s casting them?’
‘The same way you always have.’
‘No. It’s not enough.’
‘I see. Experience, then.’ Spruce saluted. Masterduke smiled.
‘What colonel salutes a major?’
‘You’re already playing at soldiers, to ask that. Go, Mast. Your desk will always be here.’ Masterduke twitched and licked his teeth. He walked away and out of the building.
The train was long, grey and dirty. The platform was crowded. Ponies shuffled in and out of cars, moving supplies. There were crates of rations and of munitions. There were fabrics and tents and wood and metal. There was livestock, bleating and moaning. Ponies queued. Few spoke. No face carried a smile. Beggars mumbled. Some were missing limbs. None had more than a hoof of coppers. Masterduke stared, sweating, at a clock as a beggar spoke to him. ‘What’s the time?’ Masterduke swallowed and turned.
‘Excuse me?’
The beggar leered. ‘I lost a leg,’ he said, patting the floor beside his stump. Masterduke stared. He turned away. ‘Hee, hee, where are you going?’ Masterduke pushed ponies aside.
‘Oi!’
‘In a hurry, are we?’
‘No rush, friend; we’re all bucked.’
He reached the edge of the platform. He blinked. He turned and walked toward a pony. He reached into his bag, extracted his papers and offered them. ‘Let’s see,’ drawled the pony. ‘Wrong car. You’re that way.’ He jabbed a hoof.
‘Which one?’ asked Masterduke.
‘Personnel,’ he answered. Masterduke shuffled along the platform. He winced as the corner of a crate scraped his chest. He squeezed through and showed his papers. He stepped onto the train.
He watched Canterlot from the windows once the train moved. The city was grubby. Soot blackened most buildings. The palace was empty and vandalised. Ponies congregated in certain areas, like the barracks and the platform. The streets were silent. Masterduke peered into his bag. In it were a beret and a red sash. He licked his teeth. Around him sat soldiers, dressed in white. No one spoke. The train clattered and rattled. ‘Destination,’ echoed a monotone. ‘Rock Dunes Frontier – via Cloudsdale, Gorge and Bay.’ Masterduke itched his horn.
‘Soon,’ he mumbled. No pony looked up. ‘Why? Why not? What answer have I to either? Sombra. Celestia.’ He smiled. ‘Masterduke. Well. We shall see. “In the extremities of the following regions”. We shall see.’ Teams of Pegasi flew above the tracks. They were dragging rain clouds toward crop fields. Masterduke watched them from the window and shook his head. He closed his eyes.
The sun was setting as the train slowed into Rock Dunes station. The doors clanked open and the soldiers poured out. Masterduke rose, donning his uniform, and followed the tide. He stepped onto the rock and shuffled forward. A steep stone staircase led up onto a dune. A long, narrow stream of ponies ascended. He joined it and climbed. At the top of the steps, Masterduke saw the horizon. Ochre light washed across the desert of rock. The caravan funnelled into a fissure and the sunset disappeared. The ponies emerged into a huge cave. Here the tide dispersed and he stood, watching. White light blared into the space from lamps high above. White-clad soldiers walked to and fro. Against one wall were pinned canvases. Under these were gear and sleeping mats. ‘As sterile as any lab,’ muttered Masterduke. He walked into the mouth of the cave. The space was deep. He stepped toward a large tent near the front.
‘Major Masterduke, R&D,’ he told a sentry. ‘Reporting.’
‘Colonel Comet is there, sir.’ A pony with a jet-black coat and mane stood at a desk cluttered with paper. Masterduke joined the queue and waited. He stepped forward, presented his papers and saluted.
‘Major Masterduke, R&D,’ he repeated. ‘Reporting.’
‘Masterduke. Yes.’ Colonel Comet read. ‘Ah!’ His face lit up. ‘You are a liberator? Excellent!’
‘No, sir,’ replied Masterduke. He licked his teeth and added: ‘Although, as you see, I developed the programme. If you have any captives, I will be happy to remove their helmets.’
‘Well! What a stroke of luck! We’ve some, although –’ Comet grimaced. ‘I see that isn’t why you are here. Spells… standard-issue… This isn’t my field, Major, and I’m afraid we haven’t any specialists in the regiment.’
‘I know, sir,’ said Masterduke.
‘The best I can do is send you to local artillery.’ Comet scribbled on a page, placed it onto Masterduke’s papers and passed him both. ‘If you can,’ he said, ‘see Lieutenant Mask about those helmets. Dismissed.’
Masterduke asked the sentry for directions. He walked to the mouth of the cave. Wagons were filling. Beside them he spotted a pony with a pumpkin coat and an officer’s cap. He walked up to him. ‘Captain Meadow?’ he asked. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D. Colonel Comet’s orders.’ He passed the pony the page. Meadow read. His eyes widened. He stared.
‘By harmony,’ he spluttered, ‘you’re that Masterduke? Oh, forgive me, sir.’ He saluted. Masterduke smiled and waved him down.
‘Please. As you see, I’ll be coming with you.’
‘I must say, sir, that this is an unexpected privilege.’
Masterduke blinked. ‘Oh?’
‘Oh, indeed, sir! How many times your spells have saved my sorry hide!’
Masterduke grinned. ‘I’m delighted they work for you.’
‘Indeed, sir, for everyone in the company. So, is that why you’re here, sir? To test new spells?’
Masterduke’s eyes flickered. ‘No, I’m here to improve the old ones – and, if possible, to plan more.’
‘You’ll have no trouble here, sir,’ piped up Meadow. ‘Good horns, all.’
‘Are you going into action?’
‘Perhaps, sir. We’re travelling onto the dunes. Skirmishes at worst. The thralls are scouting us. Colonel Comet sends us to keep them as far from base as possible.’
‘Good. As you were.’
‘Sir.’
They boarded the final wagon. The platoon of Unicorns trundled into the dim, pulled along by silent, burly Earths. They entered a narrow fissure and turned. Masterduke strained his eyes. Black rock ran far. There were four wagons, each carrying ten or so ponies. They stopped, arranged in single file and continued. Masterduke cast his eye over the ponies in his cart. A few blinked at him. One saluted. One stared, his mouth agape. Masterduke watched him. The pony leaned forward. He removed his cap. His mane was tumbleweed and his coat copper-rust. Masterduke blinked. ‘Professor?’ said the pony.
‘Who’s that?’ replied Masterduke, shifting forward.
‘Professor Mast? Is that you?’
‘You know me?’ said Masterduke. Their eyes met. Masterduke’s widened. ‘Starburst?’
Meadow was turning his head from pony to pony. ‘Private, you know the Major?’
‘The Major!’ Starburst beamed. ‘That’s Professor Mast! Flanks! How did you end up here, professor?’
‘You are Starburst,’ Masterduke said, ‘that student who could conjure the most wonderful ribbons!’ A few ponies turned and snorted.
‘What?’ said one, grinning.
‘Ribbons?’ sniggered another. Starburst blushed.
‘Ah. Yeah. Well. That was a long time ago.’ He grinned. ‘Yeah, they were pretty awesome, though, weren’t they, sir? I guess you aren’t teaching any more. Flanks. Closed down the uni, did they?’
‘Quiet,’ hissed the Earth pulling their wagon. ‘We’re leaving base.’ As the fissure widened and the wagons spread, Masterduke leaned in and smiled.
‘How are you finding my spells?’ he whispered. Starburst shrugged.
‘What do you mean?’
‘My spells. You know, standard-issue. You cast, surely?’
‘Oh. You mean killing. Those are your spells?’
Masterduke flinched. He paused. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘They are.’ He stayed quiet. He watched Starburst, who was looking down and fidgeting with his cap. ‘They did,’ he whispered. Starburst looked up.
‘What?’
‘Close it – the university, that is. I’ve worked for the cause ever since. You know,’ he said, leaning closer, ‘I developed the methods we use to rescue ponies from helmets. Did you know that?’
‘You did?’
‘Yes, yes! I did.’
‘Are you here as a liberator?’ Masterduke shook his head.
‘No. I’m here to do… something else.’
Starburst nodded. ‘Cool.’ Masterduke rubbed his chin. He swallowed and turned away.
The wagons split. They travelled alone across a dune. Meadow ordered the driver to stop. They climbed down from the cart and assumed positions along an overlook. Below them was black rock. Meadow raised a hoof and signalled for silence. He crouched. Masterduke and the others followed suit. ‘There,’ breathed Meadow. ‘Do you see them?’ Masterduke strained his eyes.
‘No,’ he whispered.
‘Look there. Open wide.’ Masterduke peeled back his lids. He glimpsed a flat shadow inching forward. ‘They suspect that we’re here,’ breathed Meadow. ‘They know we search for them. You’ll appreciate this, I think, sir.’
He slipped away from the precipice and signalled to the squad. Horns glowed. Spirals of aqua, olive, navy, silver and green shone in the dim. Then they fired. A giant, yellow-pink cloud shimmered above the dune. It dropped. There was a flash of red and the report of a splash spell. Squeals echoed upward from below. Meadow shot orbs into the sky. Masterduke raised a hoof and shielded his eyes. On the rock lay helmets and corpses. Meadow turned to him, grinning. ‘Well, sir? What do you say to that?’
Masterduke closed his mouth and swallowed. ‘You’re all trained in mortar splash,’ he muttered, rubbing his chin. Meadow swelled.
‘As I told you, sir – good horns, all. Hold on. Ah, there’s more. Charge up, lads.’
‘How efficient are your secondary spells?’ asked Masterduke. ‘You’ve expended a lot of magic.’
‘All your ones, sir,’ replied Meadow. ‘We start with a splash, though rarely one as big as that. Then it’s beams and sweeps. Your manual on focus made that possible. Hold on. Shit.’ Thirty or so thralls emerged from positions across the dune. Some had started casting. Meadow and Masterduke ducked as blasts shot over their heads. ‘Beams! Synchronise and fire!’ commanded Meadow. The ten ponies obeyed. Masterduke added his beam to the sweep. They carved through the first rank, dropping them. Few rose.
‘You’ll need to take care of that,’ said Masterduke, pointing to their flanks. Thralls crawled up the cliffs. ‘Split the squad into three. Five in the centre and pulse.’
‘Yes!’ said Meadow, grinning. Three ponies moved at Meadow’s order. Another few ran to cover the other side. Masterduke joined Meadow in the centre. ‘Horizontally, now,’ cried Meadow. ‘Fire!’ Their wave stunned the onrushers. The rank behind them stopped, squatted and fired. The squad shrank behind the lip. As they did, thralls advanced. ‘Back, charge up and fire on my command!’ snarled Meadow. Horns glowed. They poked their heads over the lip.
‘Ah!’ A pony squealed and fell onto the rock below. His body crumpled. Masterduke’s eyes bulged. The flanks were swarming with thralls.
‘Shit!’ said Meadow. ‘Retreat! Full retreat! Oo!’ The orbs vanished. Masterduke blinked in the dark and swallowed.
‘This is it,’ he muttered. ‘My greatest creation? Now we shall see.’ He scrambled sideward and down a slope. He spun around and saw the flashes of thralls’ spells. He steadied himself and closed his eyes. He licked his teeth. His horn glowed. It flashed. He grimaced and stamped. He closed his eyes and steadied his shaking body. He breathed in and out. His horn glowed. The shine swirled. It grew. A tornado of amber light twisted around his head. He focused and pushed. It zipped forward and vanished into the dark. He waited, holding his breath. There were cries from the overlook. ‘Let it be,’ he muttered. ‘Let it be; let it be –’ He shivered. His eyes widened.
‘Stop,’ he hissed. ‘Cease fire.’ The blasts of the rear rank of thralls vanished. The dune was black. He stood, shaking and blinking. He opened his mouth. ‘Was that it?’ he breathed. ‘Have I done it? Did it work?’ He staggered forward and stretched out his hooves. He felt. He touched cold metal. His eyes widened. ‘A helmet,’ he muttered. ‘A thrall!’ He leapt backward, then stopped. He stared. His eyes adjusted. He rubbed his chin. His lip curled. Five thralls stood before him, breathing. They did not move. They did not speak.
He turned and ran to the overlook. He followed the shouts. The squad, with Masterduke, had become five. They ran. Thralls, slower, chased. He spotted Starburst and the Earth, who had abandoned the wagon. Meadow was alive. ‘What do we do?’ he demanded.
‘Keep running,’ grunted Meadow, sweating. ‘We get to safety. Find a fissure. Get down into it.’
‘What happened, professor?’ asked Starburst. ‘Did you stop them?’
‘I tried,’ panted Masterduke. ‘They’re still behind us.’ They ran. The dune was flat, yet shards and gaps tripped the ponies. Masterduke squealed as his snout scraped the rock.
‘Are you hit?’
‘Fell,’ he gasped. ‘Go!’
‘They’ve stopped, I think,’ grunted the Earth, looking behind. ‘They know there’s not much point.’
‘Even so,’ said Meadow. ‘We aren’t leading them to base. We’ll find a fissure. We stay out tonight.’
The fissure into which they wriggled was tight. They leaned against the rock, panting. Meadow sighed, his mouth thin. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he muttered. ‘I wanted to give you a show. We gave you one, and the price was lives. Celestia damn me, and damn this war too.’ Masterduke nodded. He was trembling.
While the others rested, he stared out of the opening and at the sky. The clouds parted and the moon shone. Masterduke swivelled and surveyed the remnants of the squad. All slept, even the Earth, who had volunteered to watch. He wriggled out of the trench and up onto the dunes. His mouth wobbled. He smiled. He chuckled. He licked his teeth. ‘So,’ he whispered. ‘So. Is the world mine?’
‘Professor Mast?’ Masterduke turned and tripped in his haste. Starburst was watching him. Masterduke stared. Starburst climbed out of the fissure and stood beside him. They watched each other. Starburst spoke. ‘You did something out there, didn’t you? Meadow said it. He thought we were going to die, but then half the fire stopped.’ Masterduke licked his teeth, then smiled.
‘Why deny it? Yes, I did. Oh, I did something quite unique, Starburst. Something truly special. It may have been the greatest magic I’ve made.’
Starburst stiffened. ‘Did you kill them?’
‘Wha—? No! No, of course not!’ He glared at the Private. ‘You don’t believe me? Well, I’ll have you know! Not only were they alive and well when I left them; they were unscathed! You hear? An anti-personnel weapon that harms neither hide nor hair!’
Starburst blinked. ‘But – how?’ Masterduke beamed at him.
‘I’ll show you! That’s the beauty of it; the spell isn’t too hard once you have it! My boy, don’t you see? Sombra’s power is broken! The war is over! I have ended it!’ He stamped and beamed. Starburst opened his mouth. Then his eyes widened. He stepped forward, then stopped. A blade touched his throat. Masterduke gasped as a blade brushed his.
‘Big claims,’ hissed a voice in his ear. ‘Very interesting ones too, I think. Come, then, let’s hear all about it – but not here. Leave them, Marius,’ hissed the voice. The eyes of a third pony, Marius, flashed red. He stepped away from the trench, its occupants unmolested. They walked in silence across the dunes. They came to another fissure. The ponies shoved Masterduke and Starburst into it. Their leader raised his blade and placed its tip onto Masterduke’s chest, above his heart.
‘You answer my questions or you die, and know that it doesn’t bother me too much. As it sounded, you are responsible for our little malfunction earlier. If the secret’s yours as you say it is, you’re a push away from keeping it forever, understand?’ Masterduke nodded, his face rigid and sweating. ‘Good. Now, who are you?’
‘Major Masterduke, R&D.’
‘A soldier?’
‘A researcher.’ The blade twitched.
‘A researcher, eh? Then why are you out here? Speak!’
‘Ah!’ squeaked Masterduke as the blade scratched his torso. ‘I’m – I’m a researcher! I make spells. I’m here to improve them.’
‘Aha! Look, Marius! A darling of death!’
Marius glared, his eyes redder than fire. ‘I say we flay him. Take his cutie mark and send it to their colonel.’ He stepped forward. The leader shooed him.
‘Calm down. Let’s get to the bottom of this first. So, you’re a spellmaker. What spell did you use to sabotage the helmets?’
‘I didn’t!’
‘Don’t lie! I saw it myself!’
‘No! Please! It wasn’t the helmets! Ah! It wasn’t the helmets. It hasn’t anything to do with mind control at all! It’s isolated excitation leading to extreme suggestibility!’
‘Which means what, exactly? Same difference so far as I see it. You hit our troops with a spell, and they stopped listening to us. However you frame it, that’s trouble enough. Now tell me exactly how you did it. Preparations, incantations – whatever you Unicorn lot do. All of it. Oh, and to make sure you’re straight with us –’ He looked around. ‘Ah, yeah. Marius, cut that one’s leg when I tell you. So, no nonsense, and junior keeps his stride.’
Masterduke told them. As he talked, Starburst listened and swallowed.
‘Well, that was painless. Now, just to make certain you haven’t told us a pack of lies, you’re coming with us. You’ll prove it, and then – because we’re fair – we’ll spare your life. I think you’ll look good in a helmet.’ He chuckled. Marius scowled.
‘We should kill him,’ he growled. ‘Kill them both and the secret’s safely in the grave.’
‘Idiot!’ snapped the leader. ‘They commandeered half a squad! You think His Highness will decorate you for bloodlust? We take them. They prove it. Then we’ll see.’ Masterduke swallowed and rose. He walked in front of the blade. Starburst walked beside him, hyperventilating.
‘Are you OK?’ whispered Masterduke. Starburst gasped, eyes rolling.
‘If I pretend to have a fit,’ he breathed, slurring, ‘can you handle them?’ Masterduke paused. He swallowed. He nodded. ‘Oooo,’ groaned Starburst. He collapsed. He writhed.
‘Get up!’ Marius raised his blade.
‘No!’ snapped the leader.
‘It’s this one we need,’ snarled Marius, jabbing at Masterduke. ‘If he squeals any louder, we risk giving ourselves away.’
The leader paused. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Kill him.’ Marius leered and swung. There was a flash and a whistle. He blinked. He looked at his hooves. They were yards away, on the rock. Blood oozed from stumps. His head rolled.
Starburst rose, his eyes bulging. He stared at the corpses. Masterduke was wiping his brow, gasping. An amber glow dissipated. Starburst watched him. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘No,’ panted Masterduke. ‘That spell – takes – takes a lot,’ he gasped. He closed his eyes and staggered. ‘But –’ His mouth twitched. ‘I must admit – I have wanted – for a long time – wanted – to use it.’ He inhaled. He exhaled. He stood, wobbling.
‘I think we should move them,’ said Starburst.
‘Where? Into a fissure?’
‘If there’s one nearby.’
‘Well, have – have a look, then.’
‘Here.’
‘Good. Can you use your horn?’
‘Can’t you use yours?’
‘Not yet. I have to wait.’
‘Flanks. Levitation isn’t standard-issue, you know.’
Masterduke snorted. ‘Soldiers,’ he mumbled. ‘No artistry.’ As Masterduke rested, Starburst pulled the bodies into a ditch.
‘So, that’s that,’ said Starburst, watching him. Masterduke sighed.
‘Yes. That’s that. You know the spell now.’
Starburst shifted. ‘What?’
‘The spell. The masterpiece.’
‘You mean –?’
‘Yes! I’m anxious to see you cast it.’
‘What, now?’
‘No, not now, boy! In the field!’
‘But – isn’t this sort of thing, like, research?’
‘Of course it is! Why do you think I’m here?’
Starburst frowned. ‘You implied it was to evaluate our firepower.’
‘Well, yes – that’s the official story. Don’t you see, though? It’s as I said! The end of the war!’
‘I don’t know about that. Who says Sombra won’t think up a counter?’
Masterduke waved his hooves. ‘Details, boy, details! If you can cast it, and it works, then we can train everyone. We can synchronise! Snap those wearing helmets into suggestibility! Order an advance on the Empire! Sombra is a genius, but he is not all-powerful. I have him!’
‘Sombra is a genius,’ repeated Starburst, glaring. Masterduke blinked.
‘Magically. I speak in relation only to his magic. Ah, Starburst, these are details. I have it, the means to –’ He stopped at a gasp from the trench. Starburst stiffened. Masterduke’s lip wobbled. There was a gurgle, then a moan. The Unicorns looked at each other.
Masterduke and Starburst stared into the trench. Marius and the unnamed subordinate were still and their eyes glassy. The moans came from their leader. His snout was bloody and torn, and he was missing an ear. Blood dripped from the wounds. He spluttered. His body shook. The Unicorns watched each other. They stared at the pony in the trench. Starburst was pale and stiff. Masterduke was wide-eyed and trembling. They looked at each other. ‘What do we do?’ said Masterduke. Starburst blinked.
‘You’re asking me?’
‘Yes! Yes! In the manual – you know, the guidelines! What do they say?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘About casualties! Enemies! You know!’
‘Ah. Well, if they’re defeated –’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, if they are, then we take them prisoner. Thralls we always take back when we can because – well, you know. Liberators can deal with the helmets.’
‘Who are these, then? None of them wore helmets.’
‘Officers,’ mumbled Starburst.
‘And what if they’re dying? Do the guidelines change for that?’
‘Well – if they’re hurt and we can’t take them…’ Starburst watched Masterduke. Masterduke blinked.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t. This night’s casting has taken most of the magic that I have.’
‘Then we leave him, or it’s – you know,’ said Starburst. ‘Coup de grace.’
‘The coup de grace,’ repeated Masterduke, flinching. He paused. He licked his teeth. He nodded. ‘The coup de grace. Very well.’ He waited. Starburst frowned.
‘You – you want me to do it?’
‘Well – yes. You’re a soldier, aren’t you?’
‘A soldier! Flanks! Wasn’t I the colt who made ribbons not long ago?’
‘But I can’t do it!’ protested Masterduke.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m – it’s not,’ he stammered. He stopped. ‘I can’t do it,’ he repeated. ‘I told you. My magic’s out. If you won’t do it, then we leave him.’ Masterduke flinched at another moan. Starburst paled and swallowed. He closed his eyes.
‘We have to do it. All right.’ He breathed in. Masterduke stepped backward as Starburst marched into the trench. His horn glowed. He stiffened and held his breath. Then he stopped. He exhaled. Masterduke frowned.
‘What?’ he said, stepping forward.
‘Curse – you,’ rasped a voice.
The leader was conscious. He gasped and spluttered and glared at the Unicorns. ‘Lie still,’ said Starburst.
‘You little fool,’ gurgled the leader, struggling to sit. ‘Gah!’ He collapsed, gasping. He spotted Masterduke. His eyes flashed red. ‘You devil,’ he snarled. ‘Whatever you conjure, you won’t – s-set – a hoof –’ His eyes rolled. He stumbled and his face slackened. Masterduke’s eyes bulged. He looked at Starburst.
‘Dead?’ he asked. Starburst checked and shook his head.
‘No. I’ll stay here, professor. You can get help.’
‘What?’ snapped Masterduke. ‘Help? Why? Are you sure? Won’t he bleed out?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘And this is what the guidelines say?’
Starburst frowned. ‘What problem would you have with it if they didn’t?’
‘He tried to kill us.’
‘I have enough magic to press the wounds,’ said Starburst. ‘Captain Meadow’s out there, maybe even the rest of the platoon. If you bring them here, we can take him back to base.’ Masterduke stared at Starburst, who leaned the injured pony against the wall of the trench. He licked his teeth.
‘It’s dangerous out there,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll stay.’
‘What?’
‘What if I were attacked? In any case, you’d be quicker. I’ll stay with him.’ Masterduke dropped into the trench beside Starburst and squatted. Starburst watched him.
‘You’ll apply pressure?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought you said your magic’s out.’
‘Confound it, Starburst; I’ll use my hooves!’
‘So, you’ll stay?’
‘Yes.’
‘While I go and get help?’
‘Yes, yes.’ Masterduke blinked. He snorted. ‘You don’t trust me!’ He met Starburst’s gaze. Starburst, pale, swallowed. They watched each other. Masterduke smiled, though his face was tense. Starburst’s grew paler. ‘So I thought!’ snapped Masterduke. ‘What do you think I’m going to do, impale him with my horn?’ Starburst’s eyes flicked to the ponies’ blades, sitting on the dune. Masterduke’s face twitched. He held up his hooves. ‘Why would I kill him?’
‘I think you’re worried about your spell,’ mumbled Starburst. Masterduke rubbed his chin and licked his teeth. He paused.
‘It’s dangerous,’ he said. ‘We’d be splitting up. We’d risk the platoon or at least what’s left of the squad. To what end? We could leave him here. Maybe his thralls will pick him up. Yes, maybe they won’t. Maybe he’ll die. That’s cruelty. Why let him suffer?’
‘So, you say we just kill him.’
‘Exactly what you suggested, Starburst! The coup de grace.’
‘Yeah, when he was half-dead.’
‘He is half-dead. Why are you so hesitant? You were happy to fire a splash spell. Would it help if I made it an order? Do you want me to order you to do it?’
Starburst scowled. ‘Flanks! You aren’t a soldier, and you said it yourself. You’re fine with me calling you “professor”, but you want to pull rank on me now?’
Masterduke bristled. ‘Can’t I?’ Starburst stayed quiet. Masterduke closed his eyes. ‘He tried to kill us.’
‘We killed his friends.’
‘He killed ours.’
‘He’s helpless.’
‘Is he? What if he’s bluffing and slits your throat?’
‘With what? He’s going to fly there, back and at me?’
‘Young ponies,’ muttered Masterduke. ‘Stubborn little mules. All right, then, Starburst, demanding justifications – the professor has a question. Elucidate. How many ponies did you kill tonight, yesterday, the day before? From where has this special dispensation come?’
Starburst glared at him. ‘It’s not right,’ he said.
‘What isn’t?’
‘You know.’
‘Poor student, that’s no answer. “It’s not right”. Oh, out would come the red ink. “Substantiate”.’
Starburst scowled. ‘You think it’s right?’
‘Ah, mistake again! Questioning my question is not an answer.’
‘You’re just playing games now.’
‘I assure you I am not. I am absolutely sincere and serious. Look! Look me in the eye.’ Starburst obliged. Masterduke glared at him. Starburst scanned his old teacher’s face. He paused.
‘You’re asking me why it’s wrong? To kill a defenceless prisoner in cold blood? It’s a war crime.’
Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘What does that mean, exactly? And no, before you answer with what you are expected by Colonel Comet or Celestia or Equestria to say – I don’t want to hear that. What does it mean to you? Take away the modifier. Start with crime. What is that?’
‘You promise you aren’t playing games with me.’
‘Absolutely! Look at me!’ Starburst stared. He sniffed and blinked.
‘If I got hit with a spell,’ he muttered, ‘and I was wounded, and I got caught by them, I’d want them to take care of me. Not torture me or kill me.’
‘Well, there we are. A start. Treat them as you hope they will treat you. Stalwart and pedestrian.’ Starburst stiffened. He turned away. His horn glowed. The leader mumbled as his wounds contracted. ‘It’s a common principle,’ continued Masterduke, ignoring them, ‘and with that in mind, let’s return to “war crime”.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Some yes or nos. Do you want to be in a war?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Do you want to fight?’
‘Not really.’
‘Did you want to cast spells tonight?’
Starburst paused. ‘No,’ he said.
‘Yet you did!’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you want to kill tonight?’
‘No.’
‘You did.’
Starburst worked his mouth. ‘Yes,’ he said.
‘So there you have it. A war criminal. You!’
‘That’s not how it works.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No. We were fighting for our lives.’
‘Oh? A caveat? What’s this? Explain exactly why you may breach your principle when firing splash but not when squatting next to a half-dead killer.’
Starburst narrowed his eyes. ‘Because he’s helpless.’
‘Oh? What does that mean, “helpless”? What difference would it make to him, do you think, if he were killed in a charge or a coup de grace?’
Starburst glared. ‘It feels wrong.’
‘“Feels”,’ snorted Masterduke. ‘That’s it. You’ve placed your hoof precisely onto the true guiding principle, at the heart of all matters, the tyranny of whimsy!’ He smirked as he spoke the word ‘true’. ‘You’re standing on rock. Yes or no.’ Starburst shrugged.
‘Yes.’
‘Prove it,’ demanded Masterduke. Starburst shrugged again.
‘I can see it. I can feel it.’
‘Oh? Prove that, then.’ Starburst stared. ‘You don’t see or feel it. You think that you do. You think that you think that you do. Sooner or later your proof, so-called, runs out. You feel it, you say? What if you don’t? What if it isn’t there? How do you know? How do any of us know anything, any “fact” at all? Our options are few, Starburst. The first is to accept our “fact” as fact, immortalise it and move on. The second is to rely on other “facts”, which we also cannot prove, as proofs and move on. The third is to ask the question endlessly, demanding proof forevermore.’ Masterduke’s face was flushed. ‘Lies! All of them! Blindness, circles and infinity! Now, here’s the real “truth”. Hah. “Truth”. What lunacy. What’s true? What’s right? What’s wrong? It’s all programming, imposed by nature and society – and that’s nonsense too! It is and it isn’t! Who knows? Hah! That’s the madness! A principle, any principle – it’s just a cruel, dogmatic joke! No pony has any real reason to believe any word any other pony says, or any stone he ever touched, or any image he ever thought he saw! We’re just a pack of liars indulging dressed-up whims!’ He spat the final sentences and stopped. He swallowed. Starburst stared at him. His eyes shone.
‘I think,’ he said, ‘that you’re a very sad pony, professor.’
‘Hah. How completely correct you are or may be. As correct as anyone. As correct as anything. Don’t you see? The maddening equality of it all. All of it, equally shallow and empty. No proof of anything . Well, if nothing exists, everything is possible! I have no reason not to do anything, none but what I perceive as my own weakness! I’ll kill him. What reason do I have not to? My whims shout “Yes!” Let them. So be it.’ Starburst nodded. Masterduke blinked and rubbed his chin. ‘You aren’t going to try to stop me?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’d rather you kill him than us kill each other.’
Masterduke shuddered. ‘Pragmatist!’ he hissed. ‘Typical. All right.’
‘I’ve lost a lot of respect for you.’
Masterduke bristled. ‘Why should I care?’
‘I didn’t say you should. Saying so was my whim.’
‘Hah. Good. You begin to see.’
‘First I was afraid that you wanted to kill ponies. Then I thought that you wanted to save them. But it has nothing to do with them. It’s all about you.’
‘Yes,’ said Masterduke. ‘My spells. My triumphs. My whims.’ Starburst worked his mouth. Masterduke climbed from the trench and walked over to the blades. He chose one and lifted it with his mouth. He returned, squatted and pointed the tip at the officer’s heart. He rubbed his chin and licked his teeth. The blade wobbled. He was shaking.
‘You know,’ said Starburst. ‘After all you said, you might as well leave him. If it’s all whims. If it’s all the same.’
Masterduke blinked. ‘Yes. And I might as well not.’
‘Well?’
‘Well, what?’
‘You haven’t. Maybe you don’t want to.’
‘I do.’
‘Why?’
‘Damn it, boy; you heard me! You know that question has no answer!’
‘Yeah, no answer. Any answer. Every answer. All the same, right? So give me one, professor. This is me, here, indulging my whim. I want to hear you tell me.’
‘Tell you what?’
‘Do you want to kill him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then why haven’t you?’
Masterduke turned away and licked his teeth. He stared, his mouth trembling, at the leader. He stared at the blade. He gritted his teeth and lunged. The blade did not move. Tears ran from his eyes. He pressed them shut and pushed. The blade slipped from his grasp and rattled against the rock. He stumbled sideward and fell, shivering. ‘I – I can’t!’ he gasped. ‘Programming! Accursed programming!’
‘You call it that,’ said Starburst. ‘I call it mercy.’
‘Weakness!’ moaned Masterduke.
‘Or maybe it’s just a stronger whim.’
‘Huh!’
‘Well? Couldn’t it be?’
‘Yes, yes! Of course it is! Weakness is a whim!’
‘And because it’s all the same, I get to call it mercy. And I get to call it good. And I get to say that you’re better than you think you are.’ He smiled. ‘Maybe there’s respect left after all.’
‘You poor fool,’ muttered Masterduke, wiping his eyes.
‘I think I’ve got you here. If it’s all nonsense, here’s some more. Who says you aren’t just doing what you feel is right? You’re just answering that question, “Is it right?”, and what you do reflects that.’
‘Hah. As silly as anything. Perhaps. I admit it. Well said, Starburst, well said. Whether one calls it weakness or mercy, I cannot kill him.’
‘So, you won’t?’ Masterduke closed his eyes and sighed. He shook his head. Starburst beamed at him.
‘What do we do, then?’ croaked Masterduke. ‘Thralls might come for them. If either of us stays, and they do – well. Now that I think about it, that’s not a risk I mean to take.’
‘Then we get back to base and report it,’ said Starburst. ‘A search party can get to him in the morning – if he’s still here. As you said, the thralls might come anyway.’
Masterduke sighed. ‘Very well. Let’s go. One night, and already I’ve had enough of this place.’
‘We’re going? Flanks! Even though you told him? About the spell?’
Masterduke glared at Starburst. ‘Are you trying to tempt me, boy?’ he growled.
‘No, no! It’s just – nice to see.’
‘Huh. Years of toil. Years of my life.’ Masterduke licked his teeth. ‘It’s my fault. My weakness. Well, Starburst, let’s pray the fool forgets the details. Come on.’
They walked in silence along the dunes. They searched for the fissure inside which Meadow and the others had lain. When they did not find it, Starburst suggested that they heed the Captain’s advice, find another and wait until dawn. Masterduke said that this was pointless since no thralls were following them. They traipsed south, Starburst smiling, Masterduke sighing. ‘Fool,’ he muttered. ‘The world is mine, yet I do not claim it. Oh, to be single-minded! Certitude, that deadly power! I am weak, but there is hope. Perhaps here, in the midst of war, strength will come. But why did I tell them? Why didn’t I lie? I will rue this day, the day I let that pony live. It’s all nonsense. I said it myself. Why waste my time? End the war? Is that truly my goal, my whim? Of course not. I am an artist, and an artist needs only one thing: an incontrovertible masterpiece. I have it.’ His lip curled. ‘Now I must show it to the world!’
The sky was growing lighter once they reached the cave. Starburst, citing precaution, had taken them into several fissures before returning to the one through which they had left. Masterduke sighed and stretched his neck. Starburst, younger, walked without complaint. They reached the mouth of the cave, still bathed in its bright light, and reported their return to the officer on watch. Masterduke staggered to his tent, a stretch of canvas attached to the cave wall. In it was his bag and a sleeping mat. He collapsed onto it, rolled over and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He opened them. ‘They’ll debrief us, surely,’ he breathed. ‘What do I tell them? What do I say?’ He turned and blinked. The lights shone onto his face. He grunted and rolled. He stared at the stone, black and dry. He paused. He stretched out a hoof and touched it. ‘Aloof,’ he murmured. ‘Impenetrable.’ He lay there, silent. He smiled. He closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes and winced. A pony was standing over him, speaking. Masterduke groaned and stretched. He blinked and shuffled upright. It was Starburst. Masterduke frowned. ‘What are you doing here?’ he muttered.
‘Breakfast,’ said Starburst, watching him. ‘We’re on a schedule, so you come now or you go hungry.’
‘Already?’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve barely touched the mattress.’
‘Huh. I’ve let you sleep in, professor. I was up over an hour ago. Captain Meadow’s back. He woke me to gather his report.’
At the word ‘report’, Masterduke got to his hooves. ‘What?’ he snapped. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘I knew it,’ grunted Starburst, working his mouth. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘Don’t worry?’
‘Yeah. I told him you went out walking and I went out to stop you. We ran into trouble, and one of Sombra’s officers is sitting in a fissure. I even gave you credit for saving us. That’s all.’
Masterduke closed his eyes and breathed out. He sank backward onto his mattress and sighed. ‘Well. Thanks. Thank you, Starburst.’
Starburst watched him. ‘Yeah, I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I am,’ said Masterduke, nodding and swallowing. ‘I’m grateful.’
‘Cool. Breakfast or not?’
‘I’m coming.’
Together they walked deeper into the cave. From a row of canvases came smells of cooking. Masterduke touched his stomach. ‘I haven’t eaten since I arrived,’ he murmured.
‘We get three square and some rations too,’ said Starburst, ‘and I’ve still lost weight.’ They joined the queues. A team of soldiers ladled sloppy vegetables into tins and passed them out. Masterduke accepted his, stood aside and waited for Starburst. Starburst watched him. ‘Are you waiting for me?’
‘What exactly did you tell him?’ muttered Masterduke.
‘Who?’
‘Captain Meadow.’ Starburst rolled his eyes. Masterduke licked his teeth. ‘I must know. If they ask me for mine, our stories have to match. So, you didn’t tell them about the spell.’ Starburst watched him.
‘No,’ he said.
‘What did you tell him, exactly?’
‘I told him about the spell you used to take out the officers. I said I faked a fit and you blasted them. I never mentioned the other one.’
‘The masterpiece.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You didn’t mention it.’
‘I already told you. No.’
Masterduke sighed. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Good.’
The cave had no tables around which to sit. Ponies squatted where there was space, in tents or next to boxes and crates. Masterduke followed Starburst, who said nothing. They returned to the mouth of the cave and stepped out. Within the trench of a nearby fissure leaned Captain Meadow, two others and the Earth who had pulled their wagon. Starburst joined them. ‘Ah!’ said Meadow, setting aside his tin and saluting. ‘Good morning, sir!’
‘Captain Meadow,’ said Masterduke, nodding. ‘You returned safely?’
‘We did, sir, at the crack of dawn. Slept well, though I hear you didn’t!’ He chuckled and nodded to Starburst. ‘Well done!’
Masterduke blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Three Sombre Officers with one spell? That’s some good work!’
‘Oh.’ Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘Thank you, Captain. And –’ He swallowed. ‘My apologies. I should not have tempted fate.’ Meadow grimaced.
‘As I told you, sir, it was my fault that we were there in the first place. What’s done is done. Join us, please.’
Masterduke entered the trench and leaned against the rock. He nodded to the Earth and to the other ponies, a fruit-salad-coated mare and a sapphire-coated stallion who had fired splash. ‘This is Sergeant Smoothtooth,’ said Meadow, pointing to the Unicorn stallion. ‘Private Ivy.’ The mare saluted, then smiled. ‘Lance Corporal Sweet.’ The Earth stared at Masterduke, who blinked and looked away. ‘And it’s to all of you that I owe my apology,’ said Meadow, his smile slipping. ‘Six ponies – dead. Six friends.’ His voice broke. ‘And that’s on me. On my watch. Celestia damn me. And damn me if I spoil your breakfast.’ He saluted Masterduke and smiled at the others. ‘Gentlecolts,’ he said. He lifted his tin and left. Masterduke chewed a carrot and swallowed. The others were watching him. He looked at Starburst, who blinked, shrugged and continued to eat.
‘He’s an admirable sort, our captain,’ said Smoothtooth, slurping. ‘Stands and is counted. Takes all the heat even when it should go around. He’ll curse himself, and that’s to his credit, but hey, it’s a war. You won’t see too many tears in my eyes. Sorry, sir,’ he added, smirking. ‘Out of term. Ah, but you aren’t really a soldier, are you? So Starburst tells me.’ Masterduke flinched and glared at Starburst, who shrugged.
‘What?’ he said. ‘You aren’t.’ Masterduke licked his teeth.
‘Three with one spell,’ said Ivy, wide-eyed. ‘I’ve never heard of it! What are you, then, sir? A mage?’
‘Not quite,’ said Masterduke. ‘I’m a spellmaker.’
‘You dunce, Ivy,’ snapped Smoothtooth. ‘This here’s the pony who crafts standard-issue! Every spell we shot yesterday was yours, I presume?’ Masterduke’s mouth twitched, and he swelled.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Every one. Unfortunately, as I saw, they weren’t – enough,’ he finished.
‘Nah, nah, they work all right,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘I’ve been blasting thralls with them for years. I’ll tell you what it was. That damn-fool stunt with the mortar splash! Meadow’s hard horn for you bucked us good. Sir,’ he added. He grimaced. ‘Do I have to say “sir”?’ he asked.
Masterduke swallowed. ‘If you prefer not to –’
‘So, like I said, he takes the heat regardless, but this time it’s landed right on target.’
Masterduke glanced at Starburst. ‘Our squad got lucky,’ Ivy was saying. ‘Not even a glimpse of a thrall.’ The Earth, Corporal Sweet, grunted.
‘Bet you got back nice and early,’ he said. Ivy sniggered.
‘What do you want, an apology?’
‘Wouldn’t mind an extra carrot.’
‘Aww, diddums! Here, take one.’
‘Ta.’
‘You know,’ said Masterduke, ‘that I can also liberate. In point of fact, I developed the programme. Colonel Comet mentioned a Lieutenant Mask –’
‘Finally !’ exclaimed Smoothtooth, spraying the ponies with soup. Sweet grunted and Ivy groaned, wiping herself. ‘At long, long last!’ He grinned. ‘Now we shall know!’
Starburst rolled his eyes. ‘Flanks, sarge, it was ten bloody years ago.’
‘So? So? I’ve got him at last!’ He turned his eyes onto Masterduke’s. ‘Used to know a pony called Jet Set, and I know – I know – that he nicked exactly seventy-four bits from my coat pocket during a gala night in Canterlot!’ Masterduke blinked. ‘Yeah! He’s been sitting in our cave for a year, and there hasn’t been a liberator in these parts since we caught him. Well, when you get in there and get his helmet off, tell him Smoothtooth wants to speak to him! Hah!’
Masterduke swallowed. ‘If I get the chance,’ he said, ‘I will. You see, as happy as I would be to do it, that isn’t why I’m here.’
‘He’s here about spells, sarge,’ grunted Sweet.
‘Yes,’ said Masterduke. ‘R&D, research and development – creating, if you will.’
‘That was you creating, was it? Last night?’
‘What?’ breathed Masterduke.
‘Last night,’ grunted Sweet. ‘We were getting peppered until one of the ranks stopped. I saw you coming up the rise just before we ran.’
Masterduke’s mouth wobbled. His eyes flicked to Starburst. He swallowed and looked at Sweet. ‘No, I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. Although –’ he added, ‘I managed to slow a few on the cliffs. That’s why I went down, to get a better spot. I’ll tell you what I did see.’ He looked around, then leaned in. ‘A shadow,’ he muttered. ‘A shadow with a purple horn.’
‘A thrall, that’s all,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘Their magic glows purple.’
‘No! Not a thrall! I was close enough to see! No helmet!’
‘No helmet?’ said Ivy, frowning. ‘An officer?’
‘Nah, can’t be!’ exclaimed Smoothtooth. ‘Their magic’s red!’
‘I know of only one pony, one Unicorn whose magic glows purple, who could have been there,’ murmured Masterduke. He glanced at Starburst. Starburst worked his mouth, frowning, but said nothing. Masterduke grinned and licked his teeth. ‘Have you ever heard,’ he whispered, ‘the name Solitaire?’
‘Solitaire?’ repeated Smoothtooth. ‘What, like the card game?’
‘Like the card game.’
‘Who is this Solitaire?’ asked Ivy.
‘Well, that’s it,’ said Masterduke. ‘No one knows.’ Starburst sniffed and turned away. Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘But Solitaire – and I have to admit it now that I’ve told you what I saw – Solitaire was one of the reasons why I came here, of all places. Some say that out there, among the dunes, is his laboratory.’
‘La-bo-ra-tree?’ repeated Smoothtooth, frowning. ‘To heck it is! I’ve never heard of this “Solitaire”, and I’ve been out here longer than any of you. You ever heard of this character, Sweet?’ Sweet shook his head.
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Masterduke. ‘He doesn’t make himself obvious. As I said, he’s why I came here. Because Solitaire is a spellmaker – that is, we think he is. The lore goes, at least, that he has been. In any case, he’s little-known, even in the industry. A forgotten legend of sorts. But if you dig, there are all sorts of stories about him. They say he’s a disaffected genius, neither for Sombra nor Celestia. They say he’s out there, experimenting. Making new things. Casting new spells. I must admit – even though I’m here to do a job – well, I’d love to meet him.’ He smiled. ‘However unlikely.’
‘And that was him?’ sneered Sweet. ‘Didn’t do that much, did he!’
‘Come off it, Sweet,’ said Ivy. ‘You Earth Ponies know nothing about magic! Did you see what he did, Mas— I mean – sir? Was it him? Did he stop them?’
‘Yes,’ said Masterduke. ‘It was him. I have no doubt. He cast one spell, and five thralls stopped firing. Who else could do such a thing?’ He rubbed his chin, smiling. ‘I say “he”. It could have been a mare.’
‘My, do you think so?’ said Ivy. Smoothtooth snorted.
‘Here it comes,’ he said. ‘Here it comes.’
‘Huh,’ said Ivy. ‘Did I say anything?’
‘You’ve said plenty before.’
‘Well, say Solitaire is a mare! That would prove it, wouldn’t it, sir? Mares are the best at magic.’
Smoothtooth snorted. ‘No point arguing. She’s convinced.’
‘Celestia, Luna, Cadence –’ She reeled off the names. ‘Flurry Heart, Scarlet Shimmer –’
‘Just as intriguing is the discussion around his – or her – identity,’ interrupted Masterduke.
Smoothtooth frowned. ‘Eh? Thought you said it’s just some random smart.’
‘No, I didn’t say that,’ said Masterduke. ‘I told you some of what we think we know about Solitaire. Another story says he’s an alias, a cover for a very powerful pony.’ Starburst sniffed and shook his head. Masterduke licked his teeth and continued. ‘Some say it’s Sombra himself, indulging his whims.’
‘What a load of nonsense,’ grunted Sweet.
‘Well, yes, perhaps. Some say it’s Princess Luna.’
‘I say so too!’ piped up Ivy, and she snorted at Smoothtooth’s expression.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Masterduke. ‘I think – well, perhaps I shouldn’t say.’
‘Say!’ said Smoothtooth and Ivy. Masterduke’s lip curled.
‘I think, and thought – again, this is partly why I came here – that perhaps Solitaire is one of you, one of the soldiers.’
‘What?’ snapped Smoothtooth. ‘Who?’
‘Could it be Colonel Comet?’ asked Ivy, wide-eyed. Masterduke shrugged.
‘Nah, nah, the Colonel’s far too boring,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘No, I’ll tell you who it would be if she were still here. That funny one. Cold and aloof.’
‘Who’s that?’ asked Ivy. Masterduke watched them, smiling.
‘You know who, Sweet?’ asked Smoothtooth.
‘No idea,’ said Sweet. ‘No, wait. Wait.’
‘Ah? Ah?’
Sweet smirked. ‘You’re a sick pony, sarge.’
‘That I am! You’ve guessed?’
‘That sour one. Lieutenant Honey.’
‘Damn it, Sweet, but you know me! Well? Doesn’t she just fit the bill or what? All brains. Cold and calculating. Never spoke to any of us. “Better” than us, she thought, no doubt.’
‘Aww, she left before I got here,’ said Ivy.
‘Don’t complain, you lucky sod! She ran my platoon before Meadow. And do you know what? Word is she’s done all right for herself. It was Captain Honey last I heard. They always fall on their hooves, those types.’
‘But it can’t have been her that you saw yesterday,’ said Ivy, blinking at Masterduke. Masterduke shrugged and glanced again at Starburst, who had not said a word.
‘Nah, it can’t have been,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘She got transferred to some secret base at who knows where. Intelligence – or counter-intelligence.’
‘Keeping tabs on her?’ Ivy grinned. ‘You liked her, really, didn’t you, sarge. Go on. Say it.’
Ivy and Smoothtooth snapped insults at each other while the others finished eating. Masterduke followed Starburst, and they deposited their tins. Starburst was ignoring him. Masterduke tapped him on the flank. He tapped him again. ‘What?’ snarled Starburst, rounding on Masterduke.
‘Well? What do you think? What do you say to that, eh? “Solitaire”.’ He grinned. ‘Brilliant, yes?’ Starburst scowled.
‘What a load of absolute tosh! You’re just sad! A sad, sad pony!’ He made to walk away, but Masterduke held him back.
‘Listen to me, Starburst; you said it yourself. Yes, sad I may be, but don’t you see? There’s good I can do! You were right last night. You were absolutely right! What was I thinking? Declare my spell to all and sundry, and Sombra would skip over it in a second. But this way… I have a shield, a mystery, a ghost! Sombra can get to any pony, and he can bend him and break him. He can destroy him utterly. But Solitaire?’ He laughed. ‘No, no! Because he is nothing! A spectre. An idea. An idea through which I shall do my good.’
‘Yeah. Flanks. It’s all talk, professor, and I’m not listening anymore.’
‘All talk! What do you mean, “all talk”?’
‘You said it yourself. You couldn’t have said it any clearer. You don’t believe in good. You don’t believe in anything. Nothing but your own whims. This is an ego trip. You don’t care two bits.’
‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Yes, I see it as nonsense, but you see it as good, don’t you? You know what my spell can do, how many ponies it can save.’ Starburst stopped. He worked his mouth. ‘Yes, yes! So, you’re right; I don’t care. You’re absolutely right. But you do. And you know that, if you let me, I’ll help ponies. And you want that. You do want that, don’t you?’
Starburst stiffened. He sniffed. ‘So, it’s all about you, yet you’re going to help ponies.’
‘Yes,’ said Masterduke.
‘Huh. And I suppose the second you change your mind, you’ll do whatever else your “whims” command.’
‘Oh, absolutely. I make no pretence. But, as it stands, you know what my whims are.’
Starburst sighed. ‘Huh. Flanks. What do you have in mind?’ Masterduke’s lip curled.
‘Excellent,’ he breathed. ‘Well, Starburst, my plan is simple. Through the guise of Solitaire, we use my spell, you and I.’
‘Eh? You want me to use it?’
‘Absolutely, and I’ll tell you why. Say something were to happen to me, and the magic stops. No, no, that will not do! I want this spell to last. Then there’s a strategic bonus. Solitaire is one pony. We are two. Together we can make him – or her,’ he added, smiling, ‘truly remarkable! Truly invincible!’
‘Yeah? How?’
‘We start small,’ said Masterduke. ‘Let’s say we go out at night –’
Starburst snorted. ‘Are you serious? Weren’t you moaning about lack of sleep half-an-hour ago? And do you really think no one’s going to notice us missing – or slipping out?’
‘All right, then, we try something else. How about during duty? On missions and so forth.’
Starburst rolled his eyes. ‘Same point. Someone will notice.’
‘Damn it, Starburst! Help me here! OK. If we can’t go out together, we cover for each other. Take turns. I don’t know. Something.’
Starburst shook his head. ‘Until you know, I’m out.’
‘Starburst!’
‘What?’
‘Don’t be stubborn.’
‘Huh.’
‘I’ll think of something, don’t worry. When I do, I will tell you.’
‘OK.’
‘Promise you won’t tell.’
‘Don’t,’ sneered Starburst, turning away.
‘Starburst! Promise!’
Starburst closed his eyes and sighed. ‘If I do,’ he said, ‘then there’s a condition.’
‘Name it.’
‘You have to use this spell for what I think is good. To help ponies. To help Equestria.’
‘For what you think is good? Arrogant boy!’
‘Look who’s talking!’ snapped Starburst. ‘Bye, professor!’
‘No, no! Wait! OK. Yes. Very well.’ Masterduke licked his teeth. He rubbed his chin. He sighed. ‘I promise,’ he muttered.
‘Promise what?’
Masterduke’s face twitched. ‘I promise to use my spell for good.’
‘To help Equestria?’
‘Yes.’
‘To help ponies?’
‘Yes, yes.’
Starburst stared at him. He nodded. ‘Then I promise too. I’ll keep your secret.’ Masterduke beamed.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘You won’t regret this. You’ll see.’
‘Oh, and a bit of advice,’ said Starburst, smiling.
‘What?’
‘Prepare to be bombarded.’
Masterduke blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that Ivy’s the biggest gossip in the regiment, and you’ve given her “Solitaire” – a gold mine. Have fun!’ He walked away, Masterduke watching him. The latter’s lip curled.
‘Gossip indeed,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve struck gold. May the name spread like wildfire. May it go down in history! And, one day, there I shall be to claim it!’
Only one pony sat in the office. Behind a desk was an empty chair. On the walls were photographs, framed certificates and a pencil sketch – a schooner on a calm sea. The carpet was grey and sterile. Files and stationery sat on shelves. A gable-green metal cabinet leaned against high wooden skirting. Beside it drooped a flag on its pole. The pony’s coat was midnight-blue and her mane periglacial. Her uniform was stiff and spotless, with high-ranking shoulder marks and a necktie. She sat as though at attention. She stared, unblinking, her eyes fixed on the empty chair. The door opened and she rose, saluting. A pony wearing a colonel’s uniform limped forward and, sighing, dropped into the seat. He rearranged some papers, pulled some forward, pushed others aside and read something briefly. The pony who had waited did not so much as twitch. ‘At ease,’ said the Colonel. She sat.
‘Your latest report intrigued me, Major,’ said the Colonel.
‘Sir,’ she said. ‘In which regard, may I ask?’
‘You may, for it is the very reason that you are here. I am referring to the latest events of the Rock Dunes Regiment, to what you have called “rumours of mind-control magic”. Who is this “Solitaire”? You’ve said very little.’
‘There is very little to say, sir,’ said the Major. ‘What you have read is what I know.’
‘I appreciate that,’ said the Colonel. ‘And it is so little that I have to ask, then, for what you suspect.’
The Major blinked. ‘They’re rumours, sir. We cannot set store by them on principle.’
‘Don’t include me in that “we”, Major. A rumour in itself may be worthless, but it’s how a rumour starts that intrigues me. Especially a rumour such as this. For all the vagueness, there are moments of uncharacteristic specificity. You’ve given me a list of names – of “potential eye-witnesses”? What did they see?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘I can see that, Major! I want to know!’
The Major paused. ‘Among the rumours are references to some sort of escapade in “C” Company. Those names are of the ponies who were on duty. I included that.’
‘Yes, I see,’ said the Colonel, reading. ‘Well, I have to say, Major, I’m disappointed.’
‘I am very sorry, sir.’
‘For a notion so disturbing, this isn’t nearly enough. Oh, yes, Major. Disturbing.’
‘With respect, sir, I wish to stress that they are rumours.’ The Colonel scoffed. She continued. ‘I served at the dunes, as you know, sir. I learned their ways. Here I sense another example of them – ponies coping through commotion, through sensation.’
‘Your personal history is hardly relevant to the matter in question, Major,’ snapped the Colonel. ‘I suggest that you don’t play “experience” to my face again. You’re fortunate, in fact, that I need you enough not to complain more. Your reports leave me with more questions than answers. You are uncompromising, uncooperative, uncommunicative and inflexible. That’s exactly why I’m issuing you this assignment.’
The Major’s brow rose a regulation inch. ‘Sir?’
‘I shall be frank with you. Your diligence – and it is to your credit – has elevated you beyond the rank at which you are most effective. You were an exceptional lieutenant and a passable captain. As a major, you are displaced. You do not belong near high command, and –’ The Colonel smiled, studying her reaction. ‘I think you know this. You belong in the field and, as of today, that’s where I want you.’
She blinked. ‘You are demoting me,’ she said.
‘Do not presume without evidence, Major. I thought that was your way. I am not demoting you,’ said the Colonel. ‘I do not punish diligence; I reward it. You will keep your rank. That you are so unsuited to it and have it nonetheless is testament to your ability.’ The Major’s face did not move. The Colonel leafed through the papers and sighed. ‘I want you to get out there and find out how much of this is real. Let there be no ambiguity. This could be serious, beyond serious. “Mind-control magic” – were you misleading me, Major? I mean to find out. Before you leave, I want some answers. If you do not know the answers, I want you to give me guesses.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Who is Solitaire?’
‘I don’t know, sir. Would you like to hear my guess?’
‘Yes.’
‘An invention, sir,’ said the Major. ‘The name is new, not old as the rumours say. Not a spell whose maker we have on record was made by them. No one relevant whom I have contacted has heard the name before, sir – let alone its associations.’
‘Then why have they started, these rumours?’
The Major paused. ‘My guess again, sir?’
‘Tell me.’
‘A romanticisation of the escapade in “C” Company. Ponies crave distraction, and who can blame them?’
‘What about this escapade, then? How much of that is real?’
‘Evidence exists that, during a skirmish, thralls behaved uncharacteristically. They stopped firing, perhaps directly as a result of a spell.’
‘Evidence? This report?’ said the Colonel, skimming. ‘This report of Captain Meadow?’
‘Yes, sir. That is, in fact, the only evidence – the only “real” thing. Even then, it is a summary of eye-witness accounts. If I may, sir, the ponies involved must be debriefed regarding events – and regarding Solitaire.’
‘Then that is exactly what you will do. You haven’t answered the most important question, Major.’
‘Sir?’
‘“Mind-control magic”. What evidence is there of that?’
‘None, sir. That is rumour. They say the thralls stopped upon Solitaire’s command. Captain Meadow’s report says they stopped – only that they stopped.’
The Colonel sighed. ‘It’s too serious, too dangerous. Too much is going on here for us to leave it be. Whether it’s this Solitaire or the Olden Pony who stopped them, we cannot ignore the implications. If a spell interfered with those helmets in any way, we have to know about it. Whoever was behind it, if anyone was behind it – they must be found and used to serve Equestria. Sombra’s power is his ability to control this.’ The Colonel tapped his skull. ‘If there’s any hope, any pony out there who can help us fight him –’ The Colonel met the Major’s eyes. ‘And if, Celestia forbid, Sombra gets to them first…’
The Major nodded. ‘I understand the gravity, sir.’
‘I hope so, Major. You will report directly to me. Interview the witnesses first and go from there. Captain Meadow, Rock Dunes Regiment, C.O. of “C” Company,’ he read. ‘Sergeant Smoothtooth, Rock Dunes Regiment, “C” Company. Lance Corporal Sweet, Rock Dunes Regiment, “C” Company. Private Starburst, Rock Dunes Regiment, “C” Company.’ He frowned. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D,’ he read. ‘Masterduke? The spellmaker?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘He’s in the field?’
‘Yes, sir. I spoke to Colonel Spruce. He told me that Major Masterduke is working to develop better firepower.’
‘Speak to him first, then. This Solitaire business sounds right up his alley.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘Leave immediately, Major. Report as soon as you begin and keep me well up-to-date.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Dismissed.’
She stood, saluted, turned and left.
Licking his teeth, Masterduke walked toward Colonel Comet’s tent. He was thinner than before and his brow was furrowed. His eyes were bloodshot and baggy. His fur was lank. He rubbed his chin. Neither he nor Starburst had cast the spell since their first night together. Masterduke had been observing “C” Company, the regimental artillery, yet their duties had not involved further combat. Though they had travelled the dunes like before, no thralls had engaged. Masterduke and Starburst had said little to each other and nothing about their secret. Ivy, however, brought up at breakfast, lunch and dinner the story she had heard. Others told tales about spells and miracles, none of which Masterduke had precipitated. ‘Solitaire’ gripped the regiment like a fever. Every time he passed a soldier whispering the name, Masterduke smiled. He rubbed his jaw.
‘Major Masterduke to see Colonel Comet,’ he told the sentry.
‘Go in, sir. The Colonel is expecting you.’ Masterduke paused, licked his teeth and entered. Colonel Comet stood, absorbed in papers, at his desk. He looked up as Masterduke neared.
‘Ah, Masterduke. How are you?’
‘I am well, sir. Tired, I must admit. In Canterlot I had many luxuries. A good night’s sleep was my favourite.’ He smiled as he repeated the words. Comet chuckled.
‘That’s army life for you, Major. There’s little slacking. Speaking of which, how goes your work? Are you making progress?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Masterduke.
‘You write reports?’
‘No.’
‘Really?’
‘To whom would I report? Myself? I know my work, Colonel. No one knows it better.’
‘I was under the impression that you worked for Colonel Spruce,’ said Comet. ‘Is this no longer the case?’
‘I apologise if you have been misled. It was never the case. You must understand, sir, that neither Spruce nor myself are soldiers. We are scientists – spellmakers. We carry ranks as tokens merely. Spruce and I knew each other long before the war. We taught together at the university.’
‘Ah. I see,’ said Comet. He was reading. Masterduke licked his teeth.
‘Why do you ask, sir?’ he said.
‘I received a message from Colonel Tango’s office. He has sent Major Honey to investigate the pony of the moment, Our Helpful Horn, Solitaire.’
Masterduke’s eyes bulged. His mouth trembled and he rubbed his chin. ‘Investigate?’ he squeaked. Comet looked up. Masterduke cleared his throat. ‘What do you mean, sir? What does this have to do with me?’
‘Well, it’s quite simple. As I heard it, you and your squad actually saw the pony in action. You did, didn’t you?’
Masterduke swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘So, she’ll be asking me about you in…’ Comet tilted his head back and forth. ‘Little more than an hour’s time. Brace yourself, Major. I know Honey. She used to belong here, in my regiment.’ He chuckled. ‘She’ll give you all a grilling, but know it’s nothing to worry about. Colonel Tango’s job is to keep up-to-date on these things.’
Masterduke’s face twitched. ‘But this is a waste of time, surely,’ he said. ‘Forgive me, sir, but the entire business has been greatly exaggerated. I was right there, right beside – well, whom I thought was Solitaire – and I tell you that half the things they say –’ He grimaced. ‘Well, you know. Imaginations running wild more than anything,’ he finished. Comet nodded.
‘And I’m sure you’re right in that respect,’ he said. He grinned. ‘“Solitaire”. Pah! I must admit I’m looking forward to seeing Honey’s face when she realises she’s dragged herself out here again for an anticlimax. But you saw someone stop those thralls, so someone has to look into it. And here we are. At any rate, if and when I fail to satisfy the Major’s hunger for your personal details, know that I’ll be sending her your way.’
Masterduke shivered. He licked his teeth. He turned and paused. He turned, looked at Comet and said, ‘Where would I find Lieutenant Mask, sir?’ Colonel Comet’s eyes shot upward.
‘Ah!’ he said. ‘You have time? To liberate?’ Masterduke nodded.
‘Yes, sir, I do. As a matter of fact, I’ve achieved more – and more quickly – than I thought. I would be happy, as I said, to remove any helmets.’
‘Splendid!’ said Comet. ‘Well, that’s excellent, Major. Thank you. One moment.’ He lifted a quill and scribbled on a page. ‘Give this to Mask – my authorisation. You’ll find him in the Pit. Take the third fissure on your right and speak to the sentries.’
Masterduke left the tent and stepped out of the cave. He followed Comet’s directions. The fissure widened, then finished. At its end stood two ponies, flanking the mouth of a low opening in the rock. ‘Let this Honey take issue with a liberator,’ breathed Masterduke. ‘I’m fortunate that the Colonel warned me!’
The sun was setting as the train slowed into Rock Dunes station. The doors clanked open and the soldiers poured out. Major Honey rose, donning her uniform, and followed the tide. She stepped onto the rock and strode forward. A steep stone staircase led up onto a dune. A long, narrow stream of ponies ascended. She joined it and climbed. At the top of the steps, Honey saw the horizon. Golden light danced across the desert of rock. The caravan funnelled into a fissure and the sunset disappeared. The ponies emerged into a huge cave. Here the tide dispersed and she stood, watching. White light blared into the space from lamps high above. White-clad soldiers walked to and fro. Against one wall were pinned canvases. Under these were gear and sleeping mats. ‘More or less as I left it,’ she muttered. She walked into the mouth of the cave. The space was deep. She stepped toward a large tent near the front.
‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion,’ she said to a sentry. ‘Where is Colonel Comet?’
‘The Colonel is expecting you, ma’am.’
‘You did not answer my question.’
‘He’s here, ma’am, in his tent.’
‘This is his tent?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I shall see him now.’
‘Very good, ma’am.’ Honey strode into the tent. A pony with a jet-black coat and mane stood, reading, at a desk. She approached him.
‘Colonel Comet,’ she said, saluting. ‘I have arrived.’
‘Major Honey,’ said Comet, looking up. ‘Welcome to the dunes – welcome back, rather. How are you?’
‘I am well, sir.’ Comet smiled.
‘“Well”. If I had a bit every time I heard that answer –’ He chuckled. ‘No, I still would not be wealthy. Well, then, Major, having read Colonel Tango’s message, I propose that we’ve no need for ceremony. I doubt that bothers you.’
‘It doesn’t, sir.’
‘Ask away, then, Honey; ask away. I’ll do my best to answer.’
‘I see that you expected to be questioned.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You never let trifles like “Colonel” get in the way of –’ He shrugged. ‘Well, anything. And it seems you’re well on the way to becoming one yourself. I salute your persistence.’
‘Thank you, Colonel,’ she said.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Who is Solitaire, sir?’ she asked.
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ said Comet.
‘Who do you think is Solitaire, sir?’ Comet shrugged.
‘Could be anyone – or no one. What I think he is –’
‘“He”, sir?’ said Honey. Comet smiled.
‘What I think he is, Major, is a nice little story that’s boosted morale. Exactly the sort of story that you would have enjoyed with us.’
‘Of course, sir,’ she said. ‘Is Major Masterduke here?’
‘He is.’
‘Who is he, sir?’
‘I know that you know, Major.’
‘Humour me, sir.’
‘He’s a spellmaker from R&D.’
‘To whom does he report, sir?’
‘To himself, apparently.’
‘I have it on record, sir, that he reports to Colonel Spruce.’
‘Yes, I asked him about it. He said he doesn’t. Take it up with him; he knows you’re coming.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘Did you tell him that I was, sir?’
‘I did.’
‘Where is he now, sir?’
‘Still in the Pit, I think.’
‘Why is he there, sir?’
‘He’s removing some helmets for us.’
‘By whose authority, sir?’
‘Mine,’ said Comet. Honey stared at him. He met her gaze.
‘I will speak to him now, then, sir.’
‘By all means.’ They waited. Honey did not move.
‘Permission to leave, sir,’ she said. Comet shook his head and sighed.
‘You never make things easy, do you, Major,’ he said. ‘Yes, go on, go. Dismissed.’ She saluted.
Honey walked out of the tent and out of the cave and took the fissure that led to the Pit. She reached the opening, showed the sentries her authorisation and entered. She stooped and walked. She emerged from the tunnel and into a vast, lit space. Against one wall were helmeted Earths and Pegasi, chained and collared. In the centre of the cave, two-thirds of a platoon were standing still and casting upon the other wall a translucent dome. Chained to this wall were helmeted Unicorns. One helmeted Unicorn, subdued by four, lay outside the barrier. Over him leaned a pony whose coat was sirocco. His long, shark-black mane covered his face. His horn glowed amber. ‘Now keep him steady,’ gasped the pony. ‘Steady! Ah!’ He grimaced. His horn flashed. ‘Now, now!’ he cried. One soldier pulled and the helmet rose.
‘Uh,’ groaned the Unicorn to whose head it had been attached. The soldiers stepped away. Honey stepped forward, watching him. He tottered to his hooves and felt his snout, his ears, his mane. He closed his eyes and retched. He gasped.
‘Hah!’ said the pony who had removed the helmet.
‘Brilliant, sir!’ exclaimed Lieutenant Mask. He and his soldiers guided the pony to the exit, muttering comforts. The sirocco-coated Unicorn sank to the floor, panting. His eyes found Major Honey’s. They watched each other.
‘So, this appears to be Masterduke,’ muttered Honey. She greeted him. He reciprocated, wiping his face. ‘Congratulations,’ she said.
‘Hah, yes. Yes, thank you. I haven’t done that in years, yet as you saw – positive triumph. So walks free another pony, and Sombra retreats another step.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Honey. The pony blinked.
‘Major Masterduke, R&D,’ he said. ‘Who are you, if I may?’ he replied.
‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion,’ said Honey. Masterduke paused and rubbed his chin.
‘What can I do for you?’
‘First, let’s step outside.’
They exited in silence. As soon as Masterduke rose, Honey walked. He trotted after her and fell into step. ‘Who is Solitaire?’ she asked. She watched him. His eyes flicked to hers and his tongue darted across his teeth.
‘You’ve heard of him?’ he said.
‘Who is he?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘Who is he?’ she repeated, her face motionless.
‘I don’t know who he is, I’m afraid, although I know who he is said to be,’ said Masterduke. ‘It’s been chaos, Major, since I arrived. Our soldiers babble more than I would have thought.’ They walked to the end of the fissure. Honey stopped. Masterduke stopped. She stared at him. He licked his teeth.
‘What happened on your first night?’ she asked. Masterduke paled. His mouth twitched. He smiled.
‘Don’t you know?’ he said. ‘I thought everyone knew.’
‘Humour me.’
‘On my first night I saw him, Major. That’s what happened! I saw Solitaire!’
‘What did you see?’
‘I just told you.’
‘No. You told me you saw Solitaire, and you don’t know who that is. What did you actually see?’
Masterduke paused. ‘A pony. A pony whose magic glowed purple. No, it was not a thrall. It was a Unicorn. He or she cast a spell. He or she stopped five thralls. I was there, right next to them.’
‘How do you know that the spell stopped them?’
Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘Don’t tell me my craft, Major. I know what spells can do, when they do and how they do.’
‘I didn’t tell you anything. I asked for how you know.’
‘Of course. Forgive me.’
‘Well?’
Masterduke glared. ‘You think I can give you the details? You are not a spellmaker and would not understand. Suffice it to say, however, that my experience equips me to state that the spell was unique in design, quite fantastic. The thralls did not just stop. I stress that. They did not “stop”. They obeyed.’
‘The pony you saw spoke?’
‘Perhaps they did not have to speak. I’ve been thinking about it. It intrigues me, you know. That spell – well, if I were to postulate, either it transferred control of the helmets to Solitaire or it affected its targets’ suggestibility. Either case is remarkable. In the former, Solitaire has proven himself at least Sombra’s equal with respect to power in this regard. In the latter, by stimulating in certain ways certain areas of the brain, Solitaire instilled a monomania, a single idea whose influence – so specific – was sufficient to displace the far more general control of the helmets.’ His lip curled. ‘“Cease fire”, for example. The latter case, I must say, is more beautiful. To achieve a power equal to that of Sombra – what a task! Yet unoriginal, a disciple’s efforts. To sabotage his masterwork through a single thought, a single obsession, a single idea… To render it worthless … Make no mistake, Major. Solitaire is the greatest mind beside which I have had the privilege to stand.’
‘Did the pony you saw speak?’ Masterduke licked his teeth. He shook his head.
‘No,’ he grunted.
‘If this pony wasn’t Solitaire, your genius is someone else.’
‘But it was Solitaire, Major. Take my word for it. It could have been no one else. Only him. Singular. Legendary.’
‘Hardly,’ said Honey. ‘No one knows him.’
‘No one knows him?’ spluttered Masterduke. ‘The regiment talks of little else!’
‘Is Solitaire a he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You couldn’t tell?’
‘No.’
‘Am I to take it, then, that you are nonetheless convinced that this pony cast a spell, that the spell worked as you described and that this pony was Solitaire?’
‘Convinced? How lay of you, Major! I make spells. I am never convinced.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘I can see that.’ Masterduke’s mouth wobbled and he rubbed his chin. ‘I have another question,’ said Honey. Masterduke frowned.
‘Why all these questions?’
‘You chose now to ask me that. Interesting.’ Masterduke’s eye twitched. ‘Why were you in there?’
‘Where?’ snapped Masterduke.
‘In the Pit.’
‘You saw! I was removing helmets.’
‘You are not a liberator. You had no licence to remove that helmet.’
‘No licence,’ sneered Masterduke. ‘Forgive me, Major, but perhaps the First Intelligence Battalion should retrace its name. I developedliberation! Liberators exist because of me!’
‘You will not remove any more helmets,’ said Honey.
‘Won’t I! Colonel Comet himself authorised –’
‘And General Stone will deal with him once Colonel Tango has read my report. Do not enter the Pit again.’
‘You cannot order me, Major.’
‘No. I have advised you.’ Masterduke glared at her, licking his teeth. Honey stared at him. ‘I am staying,’ she said. ‘Sooner or later, I may ask you further questions.’
‘Very well, Major, so long as it doesn’t disrupt my work.’
‘Who sees your work?’
Masterduke blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘To whom do you report?’
‘Impertinence! I report to no one! I am not a soldier! And let me tell you now that, if and when we win this war, I will not stand for this culture of hapless servitude, couched in military motley. One totalitarian is another!’
‘I see.’
‘I hope so, “Lieutenant” Honey. You’re alive only because of me. Me, my spells and Smoothtooth’s horn. Don’t forget it.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. She stared at Masterduke, who glowered. She took a step toward him. Masterduke’s eye twitched. She took another. He stood, rigid. She raised a hoof. Masterduke’s horn glinted. She placed it across his neck. He flinched. She pulled him close, as close as a lover, close enough to kiss. She opened her mouth. ‘Colonel Tango will be very interested, Major,’ whispered Honey, stressing ‘Major’, ‘to hear that you report to no one.’
She stepped back, turned without another word and strode out of the fissure and into the cave. Masterduke watched her leave. Once she had vanished from sight, he closed his eyes and sighed. He rubbed his chin and licked his teeth. ‘Accursed pony!’ he hissed. ‘Accursed world – insolent, ungrateful!’ He stamped. ‘Nonsense. How little patience I have left for you, Weakness. Die! Die and torment me no longer!’
Masterduke jabbed Starburst, who stirred. He waited. Starburst shifted his head and slept. Masterduke licked his teeth. He jabbed him again. Starburst grunted and turned. He blinked. He rubbed his eyes. He blinked. ‘Flanks, professor, what are you doing? What time is it?’
‘Shh!’ hissed Masterduke, looking over his shoulder. ‘We need to talk,’ he whispered. ‘Has she questioned you yet?’
‘Has who – what?’
‘That pony. Major Honey, the former lieutenant. Did you know her?’
‘Barely,’ said Starburst. ‘You’re talking like she’s here.’
‘Yes, yes! She arrived last night. She spoke to me. She’s here to –’ He grimaced and checked. He lowered his voice. ‘She’s here to ask questions about Solitaire,’ he breathed.
Starburst shrugged. ‘What did you expect? You reap what you sow. You seemed quite happy for every pony in the regiment to bang on about “Solitaire”,’ he snorted, ‘and now that you’re feeling some heat, your hooves have gone cold? I said I’d keep your secret. I have. Let’s leave it at that. It’s your problem, professor – it is your problem – so, like I said, have fun dealing with it.’ He turned away his head and closed his eyes. Masterduke’s eye twitched.
‘You stubborn little fool,’ he hissed. ‘You have no idea how much more I could be doing with myself, how easily I can destroy you or Honey or anyone else. With merely a thought, I can –’
‘I – don’t – care,’ said Starburst, turning and glaring. ‘Flanks, you really are a piece of work. Is this how it’s always been, then? Behind the eyes? While I was sitting in the hall, listening to your boring crap, you were hating everyone and cursing everything.’
‘Insolent boy,’ said Masterduke. ‘You are a fool!’
‘I’m not even going to deny it. Maybe I am. Flanks, I must be. I’m sitting here. You know how easily I could wreck things for you . Where’s my pride?’ They glared at each other.
‘Blackmail?’ said Masterduke. He licked his teeth. ‘So be it.’
‘Blackmail,’ snorted Starburst, shaking his head. ‘Not everyone sees the world like you.’
‘Deny it!’
‘I am denying it. I don’t care two bits. I don’t care.’
‘Watch, then, as your lack of care destroys my work!’ hissed Masterduke. ‘The greatest spell I’ve ever made, and I can’t even step out of my tent to cast it! Oh, you had better pray, Starburst, you and everyone else! Pray that my next whim doesn’t backfire on you and your lack of care.’
Starburst shrugged. ‘Then I’m telling,’ he said.
‘Wretch!’
Starburst shrugged again. ‘Why shouldn’t I? You’re just waffling, and it all boils down to “love me or fear me”. How am I the one telling you this? Flanks! You’re so bloody juvenile!’
‘You gave me your word.’
‘Shut up. You told me it’s all the same to you. You said you don’t care. You wouldn’t care about what you ever promised.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘Within reason. Yeah, I don’t particularly like the idea of going back on my word. But if it’s to stop a tantrum that’s going to crap on everyone else –’
‘Tantrum? That’s what you think this is?’
‘What else is it?’
‘Whims!’ spat Masterduke. ‘Whims and that’s all! And yours will not hamper mine!’
‘Then you know where we stand. I’m fine to keep quiet if you’re using your precious “Solitaire” to bring some good into this world. That’s it, and that was your part of the bargain. So go ahead; do what you like. Just don’t complain when I do the same.’
Masterduke stared, licking his teeth. Starburst stared, working his mouth. ‘Fine,’ said Masterduke. ‘To continue with this, with Solitaire – and your idea of good – I need your help.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Will you give it to me?’
‘Depends.’
‘Huh. Of course.’
‘Of course,’ repeated Starburst.
‘Do you want to hear what I have to say?’
‘Not particularly.’
Masterduke closed his eyes, twitching, and swallowed. ‘Will you listen to what I have to say?’ he said.
‘Sure,’ said Starburst.
‘Honey is here to find Solitaire, and if our little encounter was anything to go by, she’ll be breathing down my neck from now on.’ Starburst waited. Masterduke continued. ‘At least she will be until she finds something better. With that in mind, let’s give her a show and get her off my case. Somehow, we need Solitaire to appear – a Solitaire. And she needs to see that I have nothing to do with him.’
‘I’m not playing Solitaire, if that’s what you’re getting at,’ said Starburst.
‘You said you’d help me!’ snapped Masterduke. ‘You said you’d cast the spell!’
‘I said I wouldn’t tell, and that’s all I said.’
‘Then that’s it! Over! There goes my life’s greatest achievement! Do you think I can afford ever to use this spell again if the military is going to chase me, the spellmaker who vanishes just as Solitaire emerges?’
‘And whose fault is that? Maybe that’s a lesson learned, professor. Your tosh’ll take you out.’
‘A lesson,’ snorted Masterduke. ‘Yes, perhaps there is a lesson. Perhaps I should vanish and take up the role myself, hunted or not. And how simple everything would become. An amusing thought – Solitaire.’ His smile slipped when he saw Starburst’s scowl.
‘You’ve never done a thing in your life that wasn’t for you,’ said Starburst. He rolled over so that he faced the wall. Masterduke glared at him.
The wagon slowed to a halt, and the Earth who had pulled it detached his collar. Soldiers dropped from the back and into the light of the mouth of the cave, their shadows dancing on the rock. A sapphire-coated stallion muttered to the officer on watch, saluted and waved at his squad, who dispersed. The Earth traipsed toward a nearby tent, stretching his neck. A group of Unicorns ripped into food packs and chewed. One dribbled water over a cut, wincing. The stallion clapped her on the flank, and she doused her mane. ‘Oi!’ She kicked out, and the stallion dodged and laughed. His eyes came up. He stiffened. Honey watched him. His grin had vanished. He stared. Honey beckoned him. He hesitated. She waited. He came over, his face taut. They watched each other quietly.
‘Well, well,’ muttered Smoothtooth. ‘Speak and she shall appear.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We were talking about you,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘Just the other day. Sweet and me. You remember him?’
‘Of course.’
‘I told him you were the worst pony I’d ever served under. He said more or less the same.’ Honey’s eyes flashed. Smoothtooth’s did not waver from hers. They glared at each other. ‘That’s changed,’ he said, pointing at her uniform. ‘What is it now? Captain? Major?’
‘Major,’ said Honey.
‘Major. Isn’t that nice. Are you expecting a salute?’
‘I expect you to salute.’
Smoothtooth nodded. ‘Of course you do. Get it somewhere else. You don’t run my show anym—’
‘You weren’t the worst I had,’ said Honey.
‘Hah!’
‘But you were bad enough. When I said “duty”, you heard “chore”. When I said “order”, you heard “demand”. What I call “service”, you call “show”.’
‘And what? You’re here to get me back? Going to report me?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m off-duty, you little –’
‘I know you don’t care, have never cared, and you are right: I will report you for it. Until you salute me, I will report you. Until you address me as “Major” or “ma’am”, until you respect the chain of command – I will report you.’
Smoothtooth glared. ‘Might as well go all the way, then, right?’ he said. ‘You do know that, when it all ends, you’re finished? See them?’ He jabbed at the wagon his squad had vacated. ‘Know why they listen to me? Don’t answer me, because you don’t. If you can name even one pony who’d speak to you, or listen to you, or sit next to you in peacetime, do it.’ Honey’s eyes flashed. She said nothing. Smoothtooth grunted. They stared at each other.
‘When it’s over,’ said Honey, ‘I want to paint. Until it’s over, I have questions for you.’
‘What questions?’
‘Do you remember the night on which Major Masterduke arrived?’
‘Yeah. Hard to forget.’
‘Why?’
‘Very nearly got shot up to shit. That’s why.’
‘What happened?’ asked Honey.
‘What do you mean “what happened”? Bloody thralls, weren’t they?’
‘But what happened? Describe it.’
‘Huh. Quick and painful. And costly. Lost a few horns, but I can’t say I cared too much. Lots of new faces, and Captain Meadow was in charge. His fault, and I didn’t know most of them.’
‘You are cruel.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘You are. You don’t care.’
‘Oh, you do?’
Honey’s face was like stone. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Describe the skirmish.’
‘Like I said, it was Captain Meadow’s bag. He had us put on a show for the new face. Mortar splash, as big as we could do it.’
‘The new face – Masterduke?’ said Honey.
‘Yeah. And it was all well and good until he realised we’d stumbled into what amounted to a platoon of thralls.’
‘Go on.’
‘Fired beams and all the rest of it. I remember thinking, “Shit, this would be a shitty way to go.” Then we legged it. Best decision Meadow made on the night.’
‘This isn’t helpful enough.’
‘Hah!’ Smoothtooth snorted with laughter. ‘Damn it, but I never said you didn’t have a sense of humour!’
‘When you thought you would die – why did you think that?’
‘Outnumbered,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘Outnumbered bad.’
‘Why would that matter? You outran them.’
‘Ah, yeah, I see your point,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘No, I’ll tell you what it was. We would have been picked off quick if it hadn’t been for one of the ranks bottling their fire. That gave us enough time to make distance.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘What happened?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest. Although Masterduke was there. He’ll tell you.’
Honey watched Smoothtooth, her eyes focused and very still. ‘What did Masterduke do during the fighting?’ she asked.
‘Helped us. Joined in.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Fired beams too. And yeah, like I said, he went down to stop them on the cliff.’
‘You didn’t tell me that.’
‘But that’s what I meant when I said he’d have seen. Heck, he did see! He told me who it was!’
‘Who?’ breathed Honey.
‘This flaming Solitaire, that’s who! You don’t need to ask me about him.’
‘Solitaire,’ she repeated. ‘I do.’
‘Don’t know a thing,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘Masterduke’s the pony to talk to. Or Ivy.’
‘Who’s Ivy?’
‘Private Ivy. She’s in the platoon.’
‘What do you know about Solitaire?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You don’t know anything?’
‘Nothing!’
‘Not even a whisper of a rumour? You must know something. You said “this flaming Solitaire”.’
Smoothtooth rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, because Ivy and the rest of them won’t shut up about him. Me, I said it was a load of phooey from the start.’
‘The start.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What start? What’s the start? Who started it?’
‘Masterduke did. Well, he told us.’
‘What?’
‘That he thought he’d seen Solitaire.’
‘Who’s “us”?’
‘Me and Sweet,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘And Ivy. And Starburst. And Meadow too, probably. No, wait. No. Meadow wasn’t there.’
‘Masterduke told you,’ she said. Her mouth twitched. Smoothtooth watched her.
‘Yeah.’
‘What did you think when he told you?’
Smoothtooth shrugged. ‘That he sounded really into it. Excited. Said something about coming here specifically to meet him.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘That’s interesting,’ she said.
‘If you say so,’ grunted Smoothtooth. ‘I wasn’t paying the raptest attention. Was thinking about Jet Set, the little –’ He muttered curses. Honey spoke over them.
‘Can you remember exactly what Masterduke said?’
‘Exactly? What, like, all of it?’
‘As much as you can remember. And, if you can, use his words, not yours.’
‘You don’t half ask for much, do you? Fine, if it’ll hurry this up. Let me think.’ He paused. ‘He said he suspected one of the soldiers.’
‘He said that?’
‘Yeah, that was it! And I know why I remembered that! Ivy and I were getting into it.’
‘Did he say who?’
‘No, but Ivy said Colonel Comet, and – hah! Hah!’ Smoothtooth stamped, grinning.
‘What?’
‘You’ll never guess who I said!’
‘Who?’
‘Hah, you’ll never guess!’
‘If you say so. Can you remember anything else?’
‘Yeah. I think he said it was an industry secret – Solitaire was. And that there was a lab on the dunes somewhere. I called tosh on that.’
‘Anything else?’
‘That’s it.’
Honey paused. ‘So, if I followed correctly, your sole source of information regarding Solitaire has been Masterduke.’
Smoothtooth shrugged. ‘And some others, chatting here and there.’
‘Who? When?’
Smoothtooth shrugged again. ‘Most everyone at some point.’
‘Recently, though.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Recently meaning after your conversation with Masterduke.’
‘Yeah, it’s been after that all right. Ivy’s to blame for that. Went straight to her head.’
Honey nodded. ‘Think very carefully. Had you ever heard the name Solitaire before you met Masterduke?’
‘Never.’
‘You’re absolutely certain. Think.’
‘Don’t need to. Absolutely certain. I was laughing about it, because who gets named after a bloody game of cards?’
‘What do you think of Masterduke?’
‘He’s a prat.’
‘Elaborate.’
‘It’s the way he speaks.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. One of those non-stop fakers. Can’t stand those. On and on, drivel, drivel. They speak all the time and they never say anything, and he’s one of them.’
‘Have you spoken often?’
‘Barely.’
‘Then how do you justify your impression?’
Smoothtooth paused. He shrugged. ‘Just from what I sensed when we spoke.’
‘Your conversation about Solitaire,’ said Honey.
‘That’s the only time we spoke properly, yeah. If you could call it properly.’
Honey scanned Smoothtooth’s face. ‘You weren’t the worst I had,’ she muttered, ‘because you were honest.’ Smoothtooth frowned. Honey’s eyes were fixed on his. ‘Tell me,’ she breathed, ‘is this a joke? This. Solitaire. One of your “funs”?’ Smoothtooth’s frown deepened. He stared at Honey. She nodded slowly. ‘Then,’ she said, ‘that’s all. You may leave.’
‘Nah, nah. You aren’t getting away with that. Asking me all that and then closing up. I get to ask one thing.’ Smoothtooth took a step toward her. She did not budge. ‘I couldn’t even piss without you forcing me to take a note of it,’ he said, ‘and if you’ve changed, I’ll snap my horn.’ Honey stared at him. ‘Here we are,’ he continued, ‘off the record. Tell me what it’s all about. Why you do it. I want to know.’ Honey was silent. He waited. Neither spoke. ‘Fine. Go ahead and repor—’
‘That you asked me this,’ muttered Honey, ‘implies hope for you.’
Smoothtooth snorted. ‘What’s that mean?’
‘You do care.’
‘About some things, yeah.’
‘Yes,’ said Honey. ‘Perhaps even the right things.’
‘And?’
‘Latrines are firing splash,’ she said, ‘which is writing a report, or reporting for duty, or arriving on time, or eating dinner at the mess. If you piss in the wrong place, or fail to report, or eat too slowly –’ She paused. She looked at Smoothtooth. ‘What do you think happens?’
He shrugged. ‘No idea.’
‘Suffering.’
‘Eh?’
‘That’s why I asked you to piss in the right place – and why I punished you for disobeying.’
‘What sort of an answer is that?’
‘That’s my answer.’
‘Eating slowly gets you to bloody suffering?’ Honey smiled. Smoothtooth jolted, stepped backward. They watched each other. Eventually, Smoothtooth started to chuckle. ‘I said you,’ he added.
Honey frowned. ‘What?’
‘For Solitaire, said Smoothtooth, smiling. ‘I heard brains and loneliness, so you were the first name.’
‘Brains and loneliness,’ she repeated. ‘You didn’t tell me Masterduke said that.’
‘Oh. Yeah. He said – yeah, I’ve got it now. “Disaffected genius”. Alone on the dunes. That was it. Half-complimentary of me, really.’
‘Why were you even talking about it?’ said Honey.
‘Eh?’
‘How,’ she said, ‘did Solitaire come up in conversation? Why did Masterduke tell you this at all?’
‘Because he saw him during the fighti—’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Stop. Think. How did the conversation merit Solitaire? How did the topic come about?’
Smoothtooth frowned, then grimaced. ‘Can’t remember,’ he said.
‘You’re sure.’
‘Yeah.’ They watched each other. ‘So, you’re finished?’ said Smoothtooth. Honey nodded. Smoothtooth left at once, muttering to himself: ‘Eating equals bloody suffering, so it does. My, my.’
‘Private Ivy?’ Honey had pushed her way through a small crowd to reach the inner circle, who had been babbling about the world’s ills and the significance of the colours on Princess Celestia’s battle-dress.
‘Just Ivy’s fine,’ called Ivy, smiling at Honey. ‘Private makes me sound mysterious. I’m an open book, honest.’
‘Good,’ said Honey once the giggling died down. ‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion. I’d like to speak with you – in private.’
‘The private private!’ said Ivy, grinning as her friends spluttered with laughter. ‘That’s me!’
Honey beckoned her, and together they walked toward the mouth of the cave. At first, Honey walked in silence, but Ivy was full of words. ‘You have a very nice mane, Major,’ she said, beaming at it. ‘Those lighter bits, like highlights – is that your natural colour?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, it’s lovely! I see you’re using the wax too, but I can’t stand the stuff, because my hair’s very coarse, so it forms little pieces of residue. It looks like I haven’t washed.’ She dragged a hoof quickly through her mane. ‘There, see? Oh, no. Ah. There.’ She showed Honey her hoof. Honey stared and said nothing. Ivy continued. ‘You said your name was Honey? Isn’t that funny! I was speaking with Sergeant Smoothtooth a while ago, and he mentioned a Honey! It isn’t quite so common, though – strange, because I think it’s quite lovely. And a good name for a mare, although it’s considered neutral, isn’t it? But I couldn’t call a stallion “Honey”. It’s too – sticky. Too sweet for a stallion.’ She laughed as they exited the cave. ‘But Honey was sour,’ she went on, smiling. ‘Smoothtooth’s Honey was, so he said. Sour Honey. Isn’t that funny? Sour Honey!’
‘Sour,’ muttered Honey. ‘I’m sure she was.’
‘Maybe there’s a sweet-and-sour Honey too,’ chuckled Ivy.
‘Maybe.’
‘I haven’t eaten honey in years,’ Ivy rambled. ‘I’m not sure they even produce it anymore. No, they must – because the rich ponies always eat well, don’t they? So, they probably have all the honey – the sour, the sticky, the sweet and the –’
‘Private Ivy,’ said Honey. They had reached the same fissure inside which Masterduke had first mentioned Solitaire. Ivy found her bearing.
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘I’m going to ask you some questions.’
Ivy’s face was blank. ‘OK,’ she said. Honey paused, eyeing her. She did not speak. Ivy started to smile but caught the corners of her mouth.
‘Who is Solitaire?’ asked Honey eventually. Ivy’s face lit up and her composure broke.
‘Solitaire!’ she gushed. ‘You want to know about Solitaire?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s why you’re here, then! To find out about him! Ah! Ah!’ She raised a hoof and knocked herself on the side of the head. ‘Not him! Her !’ she said, nodding quickly and grinning. ‘Her, Major, her ! I’ve said it. I’m sticking to it. Solitaire is a mare! There’s no doubt.’
Honey blinked. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, it’s so tedious, that everyone’s always saying “he!”, “he!” Why “he”? No one knows for certain! And mares are much better at magic in general. And it makes more sense too. A stallion could never abide all the cloak-and-dagger. Eh, Major?’ She grinned knowingly at Honey, who frowned. ‘No, I keep saying it,’ said Ivy. ‘A stallion would have to do what, ma’am?’
‘What?’
Ivy stomped triumphantly. ‘Take the credit!’
‘How do you know Solitaire is a mare?’ asked Honey.
‘Well, I don’t know –’
‘Then everything you’ve just told me is speculation merely.’
Ivy looked taken aback. ‘You don’t have to cut it down like that, ma’am! Of course, I can’t say any of it for certain, but that’s because Solitaire’s more than just a pony down the road, isn’t she? She’s like – a symbol.’
‘Please tell me only what you know from now on,’ said Honey.
‘Oh,’ said Ivy. Her face fell. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’
‘Who is Solitaire?’
‘Well, she’s –’ Ivy hesitated. ‘I don’t really know, ma’am,’ she said.
‘When did you first hear the name “Solitaire”?’
Ivy snorted and quickly stopped herself with a hoof to the mouth. ‘Sorry, ma’am, it just seems funny. It was right here, ma’am, where we’re standing.’
‘Yes?’
‘And it was the same day Sergeant Smoothtooth talked about sour Hon—’ Her eyes widened and darted to the Major. ‘First Intelligence Battalion?’ she squeaked.
Honey met her gaze. ‘Stay on track, please,’ she said. Blushing deeply, Ivy continued.
‘Erm, w-well, it was Major Masterduke who had seen her – I mean, Solitaire – and –’
‘Yes,’ said Honey. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D.’
‘That’s right,’ stammered Ivy, still recovering.
‘Tell me exactly what he told you,’ prompted Honey. ‘If you can,’ she added more gently, watching Ivy flounder.
‘Erm, well – let me think,’ said Ivy, shaking her head. ‘Sorry. Yes. Yes, I remember. He said that he was – oh, that really was strange, wasn’t it?’ she muttered, frowning. Honey waited. ‘He said that he’d come here looking for Solitaire.’
Honey tilted her head. ‘Why was it strange?’
‘It felt strange,’ said Ivy. ‘Something about it all, in hindsight – now that we’ve been speaking about Solitaire. For some reason, I never thought back. But it didn’t feel right. Major Masterduke talked a lot about Solitaire,’ she said, frowning hard, ‘yet he’s never mentioned her – him or her – since.’
‘How do you know that?’
Ivy’s smile returned swiftly. ‘I’ve been speaking about Solitaire a lot. I speak about a lot of things a lot, so I know how it is, and it was definitely strange – because Major Masterduke is nothing like me, ma’am. And yet – he was,’ she sighed, ‘I don’t know, speaking like me? Does that make sense?’
Honey watched her closely. ‘Do you mean to say he was dissembling?’ Ivy blushed again. ‘Was he pretending?’ added Honey quickly. Ivy swallowed and nodded.
‘It felt like that. Well,’ she said, grimacing. There was a pause. ‘Performing,’ she finished. ‘That’s the word I’d use. It seemed like he was performing.’
‘What did he say about Solitaire?’ asked Honey.
‘Quite a bit,’ said Ivy. ‘That she was maybe a soldier. That she was living out here, on the dunes. That he wanted to meet her. That she was some sort of secret in the spellmaking industry.’
‘That’s very interesting,’ said Honey. Ivy’s eyes flicked back to Honey’s.
‘Is it?’
‘Yes,’ said Honey. She looked over both of her shoulders, then focused on Ivy. ‘I’m going to let you in on a secret,’ she said quietly. Ivy’s eyes bulged.
‘What secret, ma’am?’ she breathed.
‘Between the two of us only,’ said Honey, stepping closer. Ivy nodded at once.
‘Yes, of course,’ she whispered, trembling slightly. Honey paused.
‘Solitaire is either the best-kept secret Equestria has ever seen, or Solitaire doesn’t exist at all – because we checked. The First Intelligence Battalion checked.’
Ivy’s eyes popped. ‘You did?’
‘We did.’
‘And you didn’t find anything ?’ she said, her voice quivering with excitement.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ said Honey. ‘Doesn’t that make you wonder?’
‘It does!’ said Ivy. ‘So, does that mean Major Masterduke was lying?’
‘Do you think he was?’
‘I think he was!’ squeaked Ivy. She was walking on the spot. ‘So, Solitaire didn’t stop the thralls? Major Masterduke made it up?’
‘What do you think?’ asked Honey.
‘Well, if he made it up, why? Was he trying to boost morale?’
‘Do you think he could have been lying about all of it?’ asked Honey. Ivy frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Say not only did Solitaire not interfere – but the thralls did not stop at all.’
‘No, the thralls definitely stopped,’ said Ivy, ‘because that’s how they all got away.’
‘You weren’t there, were you?’
‘I was on-duty but with a different squad.’
‘So, you saw none of the events take place.’
‘None,’ said Ivy.
‘What I mean to say,’ said Honey, ‘is what if the thralls did not stop on our account? That is, they stopped anyway, and Major Masterduke has taken advantage of that fact.’
Ivy placed a shaking hoof to her chattering teeth. ‘Why would Major Masterduke lie?’ she said, wide-eyed.
‘Alternatively,’ said Honey, ‘what if Major Masterduke stopped the thralls himself?’
‘My, do you think he could have?’ said Ivy, looking at her. Honey shrugged.
‘I don’t know. Do you think he could have?’
‘Yes!’ said Ivy. ‘Absolutely, because he stopped three Sombre Officers by himself that very same night!’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘Captain Meadow’s report did not mention that,’ she muttered.
‘Well, it happened!’ said Ivy. ‘Ask Starburst! That’s how they got away. Major Masterduke went for a walk, which he shouldn’t have done, and they ran into them – and they got away because he blasted them with one of his spells.’
Honey’s hoof shook for a second. Her lip twitched. ‘Did he, indeed,’ she whispered.
‘What I don’t understand,’ Ivy was saying, ‘is what Major Masterduke would gain by lying. I mean, it’s like I said!’ She stomped. ‘If he did stop them, I’d say he’d want the credit!’
‘This stays between us,’ said Honey. Ivy stopped to look at her.
‘I understand, ma’am.’
‘I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and hear the regiment talking about Major Masterduke.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I won’t tell anyone.’
‘Thank you – Ivy,’ said Honey, and she smiled. Ivy stood to attention and saluted shakily, her eyes dancing. ‘You may go now.’
‘Yes, ma’am!’
Honey watched Ivy walk into the mouth of the cave. She inhaled deeply and sighed. ‘She won’t tell them all,’ she said, ‘but she might tell one or two. And that would be enough to put pressure on “Solitaire”.’ She snorted at the name. ‘Major Masterduke, R&D, the disingenuous spellmaker who talks of genius and legends and secrets, who sneers at the lay, reports to no one, stinks of deception and sits at the end of every road of inquiry, with a disdain for authority and an ego the size of a regiment –’ She snorted again. ‘If he isn’t our pony, I’ll donate my lungs.’
A ladle of stew dropped into Starburst’s tin. He nodded to the cooks and walked back to his tent, slowing as he neared. Waiting next to the canvas was Major Honey. ‘Can I help?’ asked Starburst, drawing closer.
‘Are you Private Starburst?’ she asked. Starburst nodded. ‘Major Honey, First Intelligence Battalion.’ Starburst met her eye. He opened his mouth, closed it and worked it.
‘Major?’ he said.
‘What can you tell me about Solitaire?’ asked Honey. Starburst neither replied nor moved. Honey watched him. Starburst watched her.
‘I don’t know anything,’ he said.
‘Really?’ said Honey. ‘I was under the impression that the regiment speaks of little else.’
‘Flanks,’ snorted Starburst, rolling his eyes, ‘that’s true, and make no mistake. But I don’t know anything about him –’ He fixed her with a gaze. ‘Because it’s all waffle, what they say,’ he finished.
‘Yes,’ said Honey. ‘I see that. In any case –’ She pointed at Starburst’s tin. ‘I’ll come back later, once you’ve eaten.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Starburst. Honey walked away, farther into the cave. Starburst did not start on his food until she had vanished from sight. A second interruption came soon enough – Masterduke, clutching his own tin as though it were armour. He looked around, then sat beside Starburst on his mat, grunting as he lowered himself. Starburst scowled.
‘That was her,’ breathed Masterduke. ‘She asked you about me, didn’t she? About Solitaire.’
‘She asked about Solitaire,’ said Starburst.
‘We have to be very careful,’ muttered Masterduke. ‘You have to act naturally. When she comes back, don’t say any more than you have to. It’s straightforward enough. Just keep calm, and –’
‘Can you just shut up and let me eat?’
‘The sooner you let me finish the sooner you’ll be rid of me!’ hissed Masterduke. ‘These are key moments here! Honey’s sniffing for evidence, but she won’t find any if we keep our heads! Except for me and you, no one knows anything. Without anything from us, she can only suspect. Stay calm, Starburst, and buy us time to plan our next –’
‘“Our” next move,’ growled Starburst. ‘This is getting ridiculous. I’ve a good mind just to –’ He slammed a hoof into his mat, spilling some of his soup. Masterduke frowned down at the stain, then up at Starburst. Starburst set aside his tin and worked his mouth. ‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘you were right in the first place. Maybe the best thing to do is to teach everyone your spell. That solves this Solitaire nonsense. You get to show everyone how clever you are,’ he spat, ‘and who knows? Maybe an advance on Sombra will work.’
Masterduke stared at Starburst. Starburst glared back. ‘But you won’t want to go back to that,’ he said, ‘and I can guess why. Because it means owning up as a liar and an egotist – and it might not work, anyway – and it paints a target on your back.’ Masterduke said nothing. ‘You won’t be casting that spell any time soon,’ continued Starburst, ‘because the heat’s on you for Solitaire, so there goes using it for anyone’s idea of good – and,’ he added, ‘you’re probably bricking it because you’re worried I’ll sell you out to Honey. So, how about we call it quits instead? You don’t have to own up. Just give it up.’
‘Give it up. Pretend the spell – my spell – doesn’t exist,’ said Masterduke, licking his teeth, ‘and never did. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
Starburst nodded. ‘But that’s just weakness from me, as you’d call it. You should be owning up. You should be teaching everyone the spell. It’s bothering me all the time now.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Maybe I should have encouraged you earlier, on the dunes, before you came out with “Solitaire”. And we’d all be patting you on the back for a spell well done. You’d have been happier.’ Starburst sighed again. ‘I should tell Honey.’
‘You promi—!’
‘Flanks, I know I did – but so did you.’ Starburst picked up his tin and resumed eating. ‘Just remember your side of it. You’re going to help ponies from now on.’
‘But Solitaire is a great idea,’ said Masterduke. ‘You’ve seen how well the regiment has responded to him.’ He grinned. ‘He’s a shield to his maker. He’s hope to his believers. What if Solitaire is the best way to help ponies?’
‘I don’t want to hear any more waffle about how great you could be,’ said Starburst.
‘Then what if I made you another promise – right here, right now – that I will agree to forgo both the spell and Solitaire if I can’t make them work for us?’
‘For you, you mean.’
‘No! For us! For you! If Solitaire proves to be a dead end, I promise you I’ll turn around.’
‘And what’s my side, then?’
Masterduke’s lip curled. ‘You leave me to sell a lot of lies,’ he said, ‘because, to make it work, I’m going to have to rely on many more.’
Starburst worked his mouth. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s right.’
‘“Right”,’ sneered Masterduke. ‘You’re still behaving like a child, focused on the niceties. Think of the greater good.’
‘You have the nerve to cite “the greater good” to me,’ said Starburst quietly, ‘after all you’ve said and done. Take my advice and shut up before I start playing by your rules.’ Starburst picked up his tin, got to his hooves and left Masterduke beneath the canvas. Masterduke scowled. His hoof thudded into the mat.
‘Go, then! Tell everyone!’ he hissed. ‘Do it for me! So leaves one of us forever – my weakness or myself.’
‘So, you’re back,’ grunted Lance Corporal Sweet as he dropped his salute. Honey nodded.
‘I’m back.’
‘Are you staying?’
‘No.’
‘I thought so.’
‘Then why ask?’
‘That’s how small talk works.’
Honey nodded again. ‘I suppose.’
‘So,’ said Sweet. ‘It’s about Solitaire.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘The company’s been talking about you,’ said Sweet. ‘About all your questions.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘No.’
Honey watched him. Their eyes met and stuck to each other like glue. Sweet did not blink. Neither did Honey. ‘And has anyone said anything interesting?’ she asked.
‘Interesting?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘Has anyone said anything that you think other ponies would find interesting?’
‘Probably.’
‘Tell me the substance of what the company says about my being here. Answer me fully.’
‘Yes, ma’am. The general feeling is you’re wasting your time.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Solitaire is supposed to be out there,’ grunted Sweet. He turned and pointed toward distant, deserted rock. ‘Not here.’
‘“Supposed to be”,’ repeated Honey. ‘What do you think about that?’
‘About what?’
‘About Solitaire being “out there”.’
Sweet chuckled. ‘Solitaire’s a fairy tale.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I was there when it started,’ he said. ‘Speak to Major Masterduke.’
Honey’s eyes flashed. ‘Why?’
‘He started Solitaire – here, in the regiment, at least.’
Honey said nothing. Sweet’s face did not change. He stood still as Honey opened her mouth. ‘Tell me,’ she began, ‘everything you know about Major Masterduke – and everything that you’ve seen him do.’
‘He crafts standard-issue for the Unicorns. He’s been here five weeks and fought with us, Blue Squad, on the night he arrived. That night, I saw him climb the rise right after the thralls’ fire stopped. I asked him whether he’d stopped them, and he denied it.’
‘Do you think it was him? Did he stop the thralls?’
‘I think so.’
‘Why do you think he denied it?’
Sweet deliberated. ‘I think he wanted to tell a good story.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t know. Maybe that’s who he is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Maybe he likes telling good stories.’
‘What else do you know about him?’
‘He spends a lot of time working alone,’ said Sweet. ‘He’s been a liberator, I think. He said he “developed” liberation. He doesn’t mix with the regiment, although,’ he added, ‘he’ll talk to Starburst.’
‘Private Starburst?’
‘He’s the only pony I’ve seen the Major speak to privately. Ah,’ he grunted. ‘They know each other, that’s why. He was his teacher or something.’
‘Major Masterduke was Starburst’s teacher?’
‘That’s right.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘It was on the wagon,’ grunted Sweet. ‘They recognised each other.’ Honey stared.
‘When I spoke to Starburst,’ she muttered, ‘he spoke as though Major Masterduke was as new to him as he is to you.’ Sweet shrugged and remained silent. ‘Do you know anything else about him?’
‘No.’
‘What do you think of him?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Please answer me fully.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I don’t think about him. He’s just another pony. I have no proper impression of him.’
‘I don’t believe that.’ Sweet met her eye. ‘Do you feel badly toward him?’ prompted Honey. ‘Please tell me everything.’ Sweet paused, then shrugged.
‘Since you want everything – I think he’s a pony worth steering well clear of.’
‘Why?’
‘That’s what my gut says,’ answered Sweet. ‘No one in your battalion would care about what my gut says.’ He shrugged again. ‘I doubt you do, ma’am.’ He smiled slightly. ‘But I listen to it, so I’ve kept my distance from the Major.’
‘Then let me take you back to Solitaire,’ said Honey, watching him. ‘You said he was a fairy tale – Major Masterduke’s or someone else’s?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Sweet.
‘Would it surprise you if it were his?’
‘No,’ said Sweet. Honey shook her head.
‘You admit to believing that he stopped the thralls, which implies you also believe he possesses Solitaire’s abilities.’
‘No, it doesn't.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t believe he stopped them in the way he claims Solitaire did.’
Honey nodded approvingly. ‘Then how do you think he did it – if he did it?’
Sweet shrugged. ‘Don’t know. With respect, does it matter?’
‘It may be the only thing that matters,’ said Honey.
‘I don’t know if,’ grunted Sweet, ‘and I don’t know how.’
‘I see. What if I were to tell you that Major Masterduke is, in fact, Solitaire?’
Sweet frowned. ‘Are you telling me he is?’
‘No,’ said Honey, ‘I’m asking you to behave as though I have told you that he is.’
‘When you say “Solitaire”,’ asked Sweet, ‘do you mean as they talk about him or as he really is?’
Honey’s mouth twitched. ‘As he is.’
‘Then I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s just a small difference.’
‘Elaborate.’
‘Major Masterduke likes to tell a good story,’ said Sweet, ‘and, if he’s Solitaire, he gets to be its hero.’
‘So, what are you saying, ultimately?’ Sweet raised a brow. ‘Are you telling me,’ continued Honey, ‘that Major Masterduke, if he were Solitaire, came up with the story for his own gratification?’ Sweet nodded. Honey sighed. Then she asked: ‘Do you remember how Solitaire came up in conversation?’
‘What?’
‘You were there when Masterduke “started it”.’
‘Yes.’
‘So, how did he?’
‘It was right after he denied it.’
‘What?’
‘Right after I asked him whether he stopped the thralls. He said he tried to and failed. And then he saw Solitaire do it instead.’
‘Of course he did,’ said Honey quietly. ‘You were right.’ Sweet stared. ‘Thank you. You may go.’
Sweet saluted stiffly. ‘Ma’am,’ he grunted.
‘The pony to speak to,’ muttered Honey as Sweet traipsed to his tent. ‘The only pony here who could know what happened to the thralls and how. Why does a pony create an alias?’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Why does a criminal wear a mask? To be himself.’
Captain Meadow started as Honey approached at a march his tent. He had been readying a drink but quickly stashed it away and saluted stiffly. Her face had not moved, and she saluted in turn. ‘Captain Meadow,’ she said.
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘I am very disappointed.’
‘Ma’am?’
‘You face a charge of perverting the course of justice.’
Meadow blinked. He opened his mouth and closed it. ‘I – don’t,’ he spluttered. ‘But – who’s charging me?’
‘I am,’ said Honey flatly. ‘That is, I will be unless you explain right now why you thought you could hide that, on your watch, Major Masterduke wandered into the enemy and promptly blasted three of them.’ Meadow gathered himself. He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. ‘Do you deny it?’ added Honey. He shook his head.
‘No, ma’am. What you say is true.’
Honey glared at him. ‘Explain yourself, and leave out no detail.’
Meadow nodded and began: ‘Major Masterduke had just arrived to inspect the company’s firepower, and I wanted to give him a good impression of us.’ He paused and licked his lips. ‘Later, on the dunes, I ordered action against some thralls. They outnumbered us, and we retreated. Those ponies died –’ His brow furrowed; his voice grew more strained. ‘They died – because I wanted to look good,’ he finished, staring at the floor. ‘I was ashamed. I didn’t want to cause Major Masterduke any more trouble.’
‘So you covered for him,’ said Honey, glaring. Meadow met her eye and nodded curtly.
‘I did, ma’am.’
‘Do you have any idea how much trouble your report has caused?’ she snapped. ‘I’m here on your word, and you are a liar. What else shall I discount?’
Meadow stiffened but did not back down. ‘I did not lie, ma’am, only omitted. Everything else I reported as it happened.’
‘“Omitted”,’ repeated Honey. ‘“Only” omitted.’ She watched him closely. ‘I do not omit, Captain. My report to Colonel Tango will include this – at worst, your duplicity. At best, your incompetence.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I said to leave out no detail. How did you find out about Major Masterduke’s escapade?’
‘Sorry, ma’am,’ continued Meadow. ‘I received the report from Private Starburst the following morning. He had joined the Major on the dunes.’
‘Tell me exactly what he told you.’
Meadow bit his lip. ‘I can’t remember exactly, ma’am, but I shall tell you as best I can. He said he had tried to stop the Major from walking out. Three Sombre Officers intercepted them. Private Starburst simulated a seizure, and the Major killed them with a single spell.’
‘He killed them?’
‘Yes, ma’am, but one survived. They left him, wounded, in a fissure.’
Honey waited, but Meadow had finished. ‘Don’t you find any of that strange?’ she prompted.
‘No, ma’am.’
‘Why not?’
‘Major Masterduke is very capable, ma’am.’
‘He’s a spellmaker, not a spellcaster,’ remarked Honey.
Meadow raised a brow and added, ‘He showed during the skirmish that he was capable with standard-issue.’
‘Three Sombre Officers with a single spell goes beyond standard-issue.’ Honey stared at Meadow. ‘Go now and bring Major Masterduke here. Tell him I must see him. Approach him normally. If he refuses, return at once and tell me.’
Meadow blinked, saluted and trotted without another word toward the mouth of the cave, to Masterduke’s tent.
Masterduke’s jaw was tightly clenched, his mouth stuck in a half-smile. His eyes flicked from target to target. Honey watched him as he and Meadow neared. Her eyes were flints. They bored into Masterduke’s on his approach. Eventually, he traded the tents, crates and rock for a look at her. Their gazes locked together. Meadow glanced briefly at both majors, cleared his throat and looked away. ‘Major Masterduke for you, ma’am,’ he said. Honey nodded.
‘Thank you. You may leave us, Captain.’ Meadow left, and Masterduke stayed. He greeted her with neither a salute nor a word, only their long, unbroken stare. Honey kept it, motionless. Soon Masterduke’s tight smile widened.
‘Major,’ he said, nodding.
‘Are you Solitaire?’ Honey levelled at him. Masterduke shifted slightly, then grinned. He rubbed his chin.
‘I’d love to say I was, Major. Truly, I’d love to say I was. But, unfortunately, no – Solitaire? I am not he.’
Honey nodded. ‘I thought you’d say that.’ Masterduke chuckled.
‘Then why ask? No, don’t tell me. Is this what, idiomatically, we could call “clutching at straws”? Your investigation suffers, so you change tack. And how! “Am I Solitaire”. As I said, if only I were. Yes. If only.’
Honey remained unmoved. ‘Who said it was an investigation?’
‘Colonel Comet,’ said Masterduke, ‘though it’s painfully obvious. At this point, you have badgered half of the regiment.’
‘That’s an exaggeration,’ said Honey. ‘I’ve asked some ponies some questions, some of which have involved Solitaire directly.’
Masterduke shrugged as if to say, ‘So?’
‘Are you Solitaire?’ she asked again. Masterduke frowned.
‘I answered you already.’
‘Answer me again. Are you Solitaire?’
‘I don’t like playing games, Major.’
‘Are you Solitaire?’
‘No.’
‘No,’ repeated Honey.
‘No,’ said Masterduke.
‘Are you prepared to swear to that?’
‘I swear it.’
‘Are you prepared to swear to that in front of a jury?’
Masterduke snorted. He licked his teeth, stared at Honey, then smiled. ‘Of course I would be happy to swear it in front of a jury. I told you. I am not he.’
Honey nodded again. ‘I think you are a liar.’
Masterduke’s smile grew to its largest since he had travelled to the frontier. ‘Why would you think that?’ he said. ‘Why would I lie? What’s in it for me?’
‘Since you ask,’ said Major Honey. She wasn’t smiling, yet the corners of her mouth had twisted slightly. ‘I’ll tell you.
‘No one had seen, heard or spoken the name “Solitaire” until you arrived here. A skirmish that you were involved in led to a retreat, during which Captain Meadow observed uncharacteristic behaviour from its thralls – that they had stopped firing for reasons unknown. The day his report was filed, you told four ponies – Sergeant Smoothtooth, Private Ivy, Lance Corporal Sweet and Private Starburst – that not only did you see these thralls stop but that a pony, “Solitaire”, had stopped them. This was the first mention of the name, which, when we spoke, you referred to as “legendary”, yet no one recognises it outside this regiment. You lied, or you know something. There is only your word that Solitaire was present on the dunes and involved in the action. You introduced the notion that he is a secret of the spellmaking industry, which has since been deemed false. You introduced the notion that he resides in the dunes, for which there is no evidence whatsoever. There are witnesses who would swear to each count. The whole business stems from you or leads to your encounter with the thralls, for which you are the only accessible source of information. Throughout the affair, your behaviour has been questionable. You have both shown and acted with contempt for military authority and procedure and, regarding the matter of Solitaire, a serious matter, have been accused by multiple witnesses of dissembling. Additionally, you are said to have attacked three Sombre Officers with a single spell, almost certainly unregulated – killing two – after irresponsibly flouting field guidelines and needlessly risking your life and others’. This is more than enough to merit a full-scale investigation and a consequent court martial for, at the very least, conduct unbecoming the character of an officer.’
Throughout the monologue, Masterduke had snorted, smiled and shaken his head. At its end he chuckled, yet his words cut like knives. ‘I have given everything to the military,’ he said to Honey’s eyes. ‘My mind, my spells, my industry. This is war, Major, not a parade. Have I stumbled on a rule or two? Of course. Have I been a model soldier? How could I? I, an academic, a scientist? I do what I can and have done so – if I may say myself – admirably, to the best of my ability.’
‘Are you Solitaire?’ said Honey.
‘No.’
‘Are you Solitaire?’ she repeated. Masterduke’s eyes narrowed. The smile was long gone.
‘I have answered you enough,’ he breathed.
‘I will see to it that you are charged.’
‘Charged?’ sneered Masterduke. ‘With what? “Conduct unbecoming”? The words apply to one pony in three. If you wish to waste your time, who am I to deny you? Charge me! It will bring me peace of mind, at least, away from the front, where I toil to bring you the very spells Sombra has learned to fear!’
‘You smell of guilt, Major.’
Masterduke guffawed. ‘Do I, indeed!’
‘Yes.’
‘And you think my scent will convince a jury?’
‘No, I’m simply telling you.’
‘And I’m telling you,’ snapped Masterduke, ‘I am not Solitaire!’
‘I think you are.’
‘Then you’re a fool.’
‘Maybe. You are very angry.’
‘Angry?’ Masterduke snorted again. ‘Of course I’m angry!’
‘Why?’
‘Because ungrateful ponies grate on me,’ he hissed. ‘Because I have wasted my time and energy, and you want to steal more of it.’
‘No,’ said Honey. ‘I want the truth.’
‘Then take it! Take it and go!’ Masterduke turned and made to depart.
‘Are you Solitaire?’ came Honey’s voice once more, flat and steady. Masterduke span around, glared at her one last time and left, eyelid twitching. Honey watched him. ‘On the stand you’d pass,’ she muttered. ‘This calls for something else.’
Colonel Tango’s office was as she had left it. The schooner swam on a pencil sea. The green cabinet stood on the grey carpet. The Colonel himself was scowling at her through steepled hooves. After her encounter with Masterduke, Honey had returned immediately to headquarters. There she’d had several details confirmed. Colonel Spruce did not receive written reports from the spellmaker and had displayed confusion at the idea of his friend’s being mixed up in a military investigation. No spells capable of simultaneously putting down three ponies had been declared by R&D or approved by military standards. Further additional inquiry into ‘Solitaire’ had unearthed no new information, so Major Masterduke remained the sole primary source. She had explained all this to Colonel Tango. Then she said she had confronted him and, effectively, threatened him with a court martial.
‘Where do you get the gall to adopt the role of prosecutor?’ he snarled at her. ‘Your task was to get in there and discover what happened to the helmets! Not only have you failed to find anything solid, you have accused to his face a pony invaluable to the war effort of intention to pervert the course of justice!’
‘I did not, sir. I simply told him the facts, my suspicions and that I believe he is due a trial.’
‘Oh, you believe it, do you? Don’t you dare presume to suggest ever again the course of action my office will take!’
‘Sir, with respect, it is of great importance to the investigation.’
‘Is it, indeed! Look at me before we continue. From this moment on, you will not exceed your orders. I’ll hear you say it, Major!’
‘From this moment on, I will not exceed my orders.’
‘You shock me to the end! Now, about Masterduke – as it happens, I agree. Likely, he will face charges put forth by the legal corps. That is not my concern, nor is it yours. I want to know who stopped the thralls and how.’
‘I think he did.’
‘You “think”,’ scoffed Colonel Tango.
‘I do.’
‘Where is your evidence?’
‘I have witnesses who would confirm that Masterduke precipitated Solitaire after the skirmish.’
‘I don’t care who “precipitated” Solitaire! Who is he?’
‘I am convinced it is Major Masterduke.’
‘Convinced! You astound me!’ Colonel Tango thumped his desk with a hoof and shook his head vigorously. ‘I send you on your reputation for rigour, your skills in gathering evidence, and you come back to me with this!’
‘Feelings are evidence too, sir,’ said Honey.
‘Feelings! Am I going mad here? Pray tell! How have you concluded that Major Masterduke is Solitaire?’
‘At the very least, sir, I have found that he is the source of the rumours and, barring the thralls themselves, the sole witness of the event in question. For these reasons alone, he merits further investigation.’
‘How have you concluded that he is Solitaire?’ repeated Tango.
‘He is a deeply unpleasant pony,’ said Honey. ‘He is a liar. He dissembles constantly. He is an egotist so cares only for himself. Each word he has spoken to me drips with deceit. He is the source of Solitaire, yet he denies it. He was perfectly placed to give a detailed account of the event, yet he withholds it and filibusters relentlessly. His manner suggests concealed megalomania, disregard for ponies’ welfare and, most of all, the will and ability to perpetuate a character through which to glorify himself with none of the personal risk.’
Colonel Tango sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. ‘Sir,’ said Honey. He held up a hoof. ‘Sir,’ she pressed. ‘It is evidence of a lesser sort, I know, which is why I want to return at once to gather the other kind – hard evidence in the form of a confession.’ Colonel Tango snorted.
‘Confession!’ he spluttered, smiling and shaking his head. His smile fell at the sight of Honey’s face, taught and fervent. ‘What in Celestia’s name makes you think he’ll give you one?’
‘He is a coward,’ said Honey simply. ‘He can be successfully intimidated.’
Colonel Tango’s eyes narrowed. He glared at her. She met his gaze. He steepled his hooves again. ‘You really are certain. This could end in tears, but the fact is you’re right about one thing: Masterduke is the only lead we have. I doubt much good will come of it, yet the possibility alone is worth the effort. We must be sure.’ He sighed. ‘You want to “intimidate” him.’
‘I do, sir.’
‘And what did you have in mind?’
‘First, sir, I will require a prop.’
‘A prop?’
‘An order for his arrest – valid, signed by you – on suspicion of failure to disclose information vital to the welfare of personnel,’ she said, ‘or any such charge.’ Tango’s frown deepened. ‘Then,’ she continued, ‘I require an independent squad of soldiers to make the arrest.’
‘You want command of a squad?’
‘Temporary command, sir. It’s window dressing, a show of force to unnerve him.’
‘Don’t push your luck, Major. The order, maybe, but soldiers –’
‘Sir, it must appear crystal clear that I have been authorised to bring him to justice.’
Tango sighed deeply. ‘A warrant and a squad with which to arrest him. Anything else?’
‘Yes. Captain Meadow should face a charge of per—’ She stopped herself. She waited. After a minute, with a long sigh, Colonel Tango pulled toward himself a stack of embossed sheets and wrote down the orders. He signed each with a flourish.
‘You will know by the end of this,’ he told her, ‘exactly how much or how little Major Masterduke knows about mind-control magic. You understand?’
‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
‘Dismissed.’
But Honey did not leave. ‘Actually, sir, there is one more thing.’
‘Don’t you think you’re pushing this?’ growled Tango.
‘I need a pardon for him too. Something that looks like it, at least.’
‘No.’
‘Sir!’
‘No!’
‘Sir, we must have something to show him, a reward, a light at the end of the tunnel – something to make him feel safe, immune.’ Her voice had risen higher; she had spoken quickly, imploringly. Tango’s next sigh came with a nod and another signature. Major Honey stood and saluted. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Get to it,’ said Tango.
‘Right away, sir.’ Smiling freely, Honey saluted again and left, the papers clutched safely in her mouth.
‘Major Masterduke is Solitaire, isn’t he?’
Starburst swallowed quickly his mouthful of porridge and stared. ‘What?’ he coughed. Ivy blinked at him.
‘I mean – he must be, mustn’t he? That’s why she left after she summoned him to Captain Meadow’s tent. She’s gone to fetch a warrant.’ Starburst relaxed a little. He shrugged.
‘Maybe.’
‘You don’t think so?’
Starburst worked his mouth. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, I think it’s tosh,’ interrupted Smoothtooth, slurping. ‘“Solitaire” this, “Solitaire” that – I’ve had enough.’
‘Butt out, then, sarge,’ said Ivy, grinning. Sweet grunted. Smoothtooth scooped another mouthful from his tin, watching instead the soldiers who had finished breakfast start early-morning duty. Ivy returned to Starburst. ‘She as good as told me it was him! I thought you’d know, being his friend and all!’
‘He’s not my friend,’ snapped Starburst. She looked taken aback.
‘But you’ve been speaking to him.’
‘I have,’ admitted Starburst. He paused. Sweet noticed.
‘I think you know something we don’t,’ he remarked, ‘because you’re not acting normal.’ Starburst’s eyes flicked to his. Sweet’s gaze was steady. Starburst worked his mouth.
‘We fell out,’ he said simply, paused, then added, ‘over his views about the war. About everything.’
‘Views?’ Smoothtooth was interested again. ‘What, brought out some barmy academic thoughts, did he? Come on, then,’ he snorted. ‘Give us a laugh.’
‘Not academic,’ said Starburst. ‘I thought he saw things one way –’ He frowned. ‘Well, I didn’t really.’ He stopped. ‘I didn’t really know him.’ He worked his mouth again. ‘Shows you.’
‘What?’ grunted Sweet.
‘Can’t you see?’ chimed Ivy, grinning. She nodded and waved a hoof. ‘Here’s a pony who feels let down! And that’s what I always say – that you never know another pony until you really talk!’
‘That’s why you never shut up, is it?’ sniggered Smoothtooth, tossing aside his empty tin.
‘But that’s what it is, isn’t it?’ Ivy said to Starburst. ‘You realised he wasn’t who you thought he was.’ Starburst looked at her. He nodded.
‘So, what’d he do, then?’ demanded Smoothtooth. ‘Come on! You’re acting like he took you out back for a touch!’ Smoothtooth’s grin widened. ‘But then he was your teacher, wasn’t he?’ Ivy spluttered with laughter. Sweet was smiling in spite of himself. ‘Bad taste?’ chortled Smoothtooth. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ Starburst said nothing. ‘Well?’ he prompted.
‘He said he doesn’t care who wins, basically. Sombra, Celestia, us, them, anything – doesn’t matter. All the same to him. He doesn’t care.’ His eyes darkened. ‘He doesn’t care at all.’
‘Is that it?’ Smoothtooth shook his head. ‘Boring! I hoped for so much more!’
‘Because you don’t care either,’ grunted Sweet, but he was smiling. Smoothtooth reciprocated.
‘I don’t “care” about the war,’ he chuckled. ‘I care about doing what I want to do. Sadly,’ he said, ‘to do what I want means we have to win the war. So, here we are – winning it,’ he finished, shaking his head.
‘He didn’t just “not care”,’ added Starburst, working his mouth. ‘It was more than that.’ He paused, eyes firm. ‘A disgust,’ he muttered eventually. ‘Flanks. A hatred, even, of the idea that ponies have things they care about.’ He snorted. ‘Because they didn’t match his.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ said Sweet. ‘I’ve always thought he was a pony to avoid.’ Starburst looked at him. ‘I don’t know what it is about those types,’ he went on, ‘but I can sense it. There’s an instability, a fire – something. You can smell it. Steer clear, that’s what I said. To Honey,’ he added.
‘Didn’t listen, did she?’ snapped Smoothtooth. ‘“Solitaire”, “Solitaire”,’ he said again.
‘He probably made that up, sarge,’ said Sweet.
‘Eh?’
‘Made it all up,’ said Sweet. ‘Don’t know why.’
‘For fun!’ Ivy was nodding. ‘And that’s what you told me, Sweet! You said she’d mentioned “his own gratification”.’ Sweet nodded.
‘That’s right.’
‘But it’s the stopping the thralls that gets me,’ said Smoothtooth, frowning. ‘Did he actually stop them?’
‘Maybe that’s more “fun”,’ said Sweet.
‘But he killed the officers!’ Ivy said. They all turned to Starburst, who nodded.
‘He did. Flanks. In front of me without a moment’s hesitation.’ He swallowed. ‘I said, “Handle them,” and he did that.’
‘Well, lies or not, at least he’s done some good for us,’ said Smoothtooth. ‘The spells, the helmets and the officers. Three good things, prat or not. It’s kept me alive, and I’ll take that any day.’
Starburst’s face darkened. He shifted. ‘I bet he’d love to hear you say that,’ he mumbled. Ivy sighed.
‘I do hope we’ll find out soon,’ she said, fiddling with her tin. ‘I need some new material.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ grunted Sweet. Ivy frowned at him.
‘Eh?’
Sweet nodded. Ivy shrugged. ‘What?’ Sweet nodded again. ‘What?’
‘Look.’
‘Wha—? Oh!’
Major Honey had joined the lines streaming from the station into the cave. She was easy to spot on account of the six red-uniformed soldiers surrounding her, like a bloodstain on white cloth. They marched ominously toward Colonel Comet’s tent. She went inside with two, leaving four, who guarded the flap, preventing entry and drawing stares. Ivy stared. Smoothtooth stared. Starburst stared.
‘She must be here for Solitaire! With a warrant?’ squeaked Ivy, trembling.
‘Calm down,’ sniggered Smoothtooth. ‘Bet it’s the Captain.’ Sweet raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah.’ Smoothtooth smiled. ‘Word got around that she thinks he’s been less than honest in his reporting.’
Ivy’s face fell. ‘No, no, it can’t be that!’
Soon the flaps were thrown open and out marched Honey. The red-clad squad gathered around her, listening to her speak. Starburst worked his mouth. Then he walked to that of the fissure and toward them. ‘Hey, where d’you think you’re off to?’ called Smoothtooth. Starburst did not change course.
‘Forgot to tell her something,’ he grunted.
The fissure they marched Masterduke into was private and deserted. He hadn’t struggled upon announcement of his arrest. Honey had watched him closely; he’d merely given her smirks and stares. ‘Sergeant?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Coal.
‘Stay with me. Everyone else, guard the exits.’ They obeyed at once. The fissure was tall, steep and narrow. No Unicorn could escape without fighting his way out, and the odds – against a squad of trained soldiers, three with horns, three with attack hooves – were long. Honey made a seventh. ‘Now we can talk,’ she said coldly, glaring at Masterduke, who snorted.
‘Talk? I see you must really be desperate, Major. You leave only to return with trumped-up charges and soldiers to bully me.’
‘Hardly,’ said Honey. ‘This –’ she produced a paper, embossed, bearing the stamp of her battalion and Colonel Tango’s signature ‘– is a pardon for any and all violations currently attributed to the accused, made available to me to give to you,’ she said smoothly, ‘on the condition that you provide me today with a full confession and –’ she produced another ‘– sign this to confirm it.’
Masterduke read slowly, carefully. As he read, he snorted. He glared at her. Then he raised the paper to her face and tore it in two. Honey did not so much as blink. ‘You’re going to have to do a lot better than that, Major,’ said Masterduke.
‘How about charging you with intention to pervert the course of justice?’
Masterduke licked his teeth, still smirking. ‘You can charge me with whatever you like – starting the war or stealing your porridge – it doesn’t matter. Your official charge,’ he went on, grinning, ‘is “suspicion” only. As soon as we’re done here, I’m free.’
‘Are you?’
‘I am.’
‘Don’t be so sure.’
Masterduke chuckled. ‘It must be frustrating,’ he mused, ‘trying so hard to impress your superiors.’
‘Admit to me that you are Solitaire.’
‘Trying to intimidate me into believing I’ve done something wrong,’ he snorted, glaring at her.
‘You have.’
‘Oh, have I? Prove it.’ Honey stared. Masterduke grinned. Honey watched him closely.
‘If you do not sign a confession,’ she said quietly, her eyes boring into his, ‘then I’ll go to Private Starburst instead.’ Masterduke started, shifted, stared. Honey watched him, stiller than stone. ‘I’ll go to Private Starburst,’ she continued, ‘and he’ll say it for you. And you’ll be arrested for far worse than “suspicion”, as you put it. And,’ she added, watching Masterduke’s tongue dart across his teeth, hoof scratch his chin, ‘I can promise you’ll see no kind offer of pardon then. You won’t see anything except the bars of your door and the walls of your cell,’ she finished in a whisper. Masterduke’s gaze darted to Sergeant Coal, whose face hadn’t twitched, then back to Honey, whose eyes were bearing down on him. His face twisted into a smile so tense that veins appeared. Honey watched quietly.
‘I see,’ he muttered. ‘That’s how it is, is it?’ His voice shook. Honey nodded.
‘That’s how it is.’
‘A confession.’
‘A confession,’ repeated Honey. Masterduke snorted.
‘You arrogant –’ he breathed. ‘I have worked tirelessly, toiled endlessly –’ He struggled to find words. Honey waited, silent. He smiled; his eyes popped. ‘A confession?’ he snorted again. Honey nodded.
‘Admit it. You created Solitaire and precipitated him. Why did you?’ she added, raising a brow. ‘For gratification?’
‘“Gratification”,’ sneered Masterduke. ‘Gratification! Whims! Why else? Why else does a pony do anything? You tell me, Major. You, standing in a uniform, giving and receiving orders – why? You tell me first.’ Honey said nothing. Masterduke shook his head, chuckling. ‘I have done,’ he began, ‘exactly what I wanted. And you owe me for it, you and everyone else. If I hadn’t done as I wished, this war would be over. We’d all be wearing helmets, and I’d be free of your wretched whining about “gratification”!’
Honey frowned. ‘Whining?’
‘Whining!’ spat Masterduke. ‘“Oh, how could you?”’ he sneered in a mocking voice. ‘“Think of the other ponies!” “Think of the difference you’re making!” “They won’t love you for it, Mast, but they’ll be grateful.” Except they aren’t!’ he hurled at her. ‘You ponies! You steal me from myself! You think you can leave me at a desk to slave away for you, and when I have something to say about it, I’m the one who’s playing up? I’m crossing a line? The “truth” –’ he snorted the word, fixing Honey with a stare ‘– is that I’m better than you. All of you! And what has been my reward? To sit, to work, to make spells – to see nothing in return! Nothing! So, forgive me, “Major Honey”, self-gratifying fool that you are, for doing the same!’ He lapsed into heavy breathing and glared at Honey, who hadn’t moved a muscle, only stared. ‘Except it isn’t the “truth” at all!’ He exploded again, started to laugh. His sniggers devolved into cackling. ‘It’s “the nonsense”! The utter nonsense of it all! I am free to do as I wish, yet do I take it? No!’ he shouted. ‘No! No! Because, whatever I am – if I am anything – I am a fool! A weak fool!’ There was a long pause. Coal had glanced twice at Honey. Both times she had held up a hoof. She watched Masterduke.
‘You’ve lost me,’ she said. He snorted with laughter.
‘Of course I have!’ he snapped. ‘Soldiers,’ he sneered. ‘Empty heads with emptier lives, forced to fight for nothing, all according to their betters’ whims.’
‘I have never fought for nothing.’
‘Indeed! You fight for grand Celestia against the mighty Sombra! What fun! What lies! How did you join the army, Major? Were you drafted?’
‘I was.’
‘So! And have you enjoyed it?’
Honey watched him. She waited. Masterduke waited for her. ‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘I haven’t.’
‘Of course you haven’t. What fulfils you? Fighting for a cause that claimed you? It’s brought you nothing, yet you do it still. You have no whim to do it, yet you bow like a cripple and let the tide sweep you away.’
Honey’s lip twitched. ‘Just like you.’
‘What?’ snapped Masterduke.
‘You told me you are a weak fool who’s been mistreated.’
‘Well,’ he said, grinning. ‘Quite.’
‘Unlike you, by the sound of it,’ continued Honey, ‘I’ve served because it’s my duty.’
‘Well, well, look at you! “Your duty”,’ sneered Masterduke.
‘Except you haven’t been mistreated at all,’ added Honey. ‘You’ve done “exactly as you wanted”.’ Masterduke scowled.
‘There’s a context,’ he hissed. ‘No matter, for one way or another we return always to the eternal problem, the agonising paradox of knowledge! “Your duty” – prove it! Tell me now!’
Honey blinked once. ‘What are you asking?’
‘Prove that it’s your duty.’
‘I can’t prove it. I think it.’
‘Prove that you think it, then!’
‘How? Either you take my word for it or you don’t.’
‘Then prove it to yourself!’
‘I have. I thought it.’
‘No!’ cried Masterduke, grinning, pacing on the spot, licking his teeth. ‘You think that you thought it! You think that you think that you thought it! Once again, the horrible possibility of it all! You’re standing on rock – yes or no!’
‘I am not here to debate philosophy.’
‘Well, how convenient! The arrogance! You presume to tell me what I have and haven’t done wrong, yet you have no concept of anything! “Confess”,’ he sneered. ‘You want me to confess? You’re standing on rock – yes or no!’
‘Yes.’
‘Prove it.’
‘I can see it. I can feel it.’
‘Not good enough.’
‘Sergeant?’
‘Ma’am.’
‘Can you see that?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Can you feel that?’
‘I can, ma’am.’
‘Thank you.’ She turned to Masterduke. ‘Sergeant Coal can feel it too.’
‘Only if you take for granted that your senses haven’t lied!’ snarled Masterduke. ‘You sickening dogmatists! All of you! Swallowed whole by the lies of the world, the illusions! The “truth”, if ever there was a statement that deserves the term, is that you do not know, and you cannot know! None of us! All of us, we stumble around blindly, acting for reasons we cannot know and do not understand. That statement in itself is subject to a lack of proof! So is this one! The agony! The endlessness! Circles or infinity! Or dogmatists like you, who think they have it all figured out. You ponies,’ he growled, shuddering. ‘The worst kind!’
‘This won’t save you,’ said Honey. ‘Confess, and you’ll have your pardon.’
‘I don’t care about your stupid pardon!’ snarled Mastrduke, voice breaking, spit flying. ‘To Tartarus with it! Stuff it down what you think is your throat! You have no appreciation of the scale! No idea what you’re doing!’
‘I know,’ said Honey.
‘Then tell me!’ hurled Masterduke. ‘Enlighten me!’
‘Since you ask,’ said Honey. ‘I think you’re right. Ultimately, we don’t know. Where does that leave us? Each of us behaves chaotically, independently?’
‘Yes! ’ choked Masterduke, slapping the stone, grinning broadly. ‘At last you begin to understand! Chaotically! Independently! Freely! Whatever whim I wish! Because none of it I can prove to be true!’
‘It doesn’t have to be proven true,’ said Honey.
‘Of course it does.’
‘No, it doesn’t, and it can’t be anyway, as you said.’
‘So, where now?’ demanded Masterduke. Honey watched him.
‘We operate on what appears –’
‘No,’ muttered Masterduke.
‘– to be true –’
‘No .’ He was shaking his head.
‘– as best we can,’ she finished. ‘And what appears to be true is that you are Solitaire, and you demand that I prove it while simultaneously espousing our inability to prove anything.’ Masterduke giggled. ‘You are Solitaire; say it,’ said Honey. Masterduke was shaking, wiping his forehead, rubbing his chin. ‘Say it,’ said Honey again. ‘You will be pardoned.’
‘Say that word again,’ hissed Masterduke, gritting his teeth, wiping spit from his lips. ‘I – don’t – care –’
‘You are Solitaire,’ said Honey. ‘It’s clear to me. You have explained adequately the reasoning behind all of your behaviour. Your arrogance,’ she added, watching him as she said the word. Masterduke bristled. ‘Your overwhelming selfishness. Safely out of harm’s way, your mind has been able to wander to these places. You are quite happy to let other ponies die for you. You gave them the tools to do it, but they’re the ponies actually doing it. Without them, neither you nor Solitaire –’ she looked him in the eye ‘– mean anything.’
‘Out of harm’s way?’ he heaved, voice crawling. ‘I came here! I stopped the thralls! I killed the officers! Me! Me! Me and no one else!’ His lank mane swung from side to side, eyes popping, straining, red with blood.
‘Yes, you did,’ said Honey, breathless. ‘You stopped them with your spell. You are Solitaire,’ she repeated. ‘Say it.’
‘I am ,’ giggled Masterduke, a hoof on his horn, grinning, swaying. Honey watched him.
‘You are,’ she prompted. ‘You are Solitaire.’
‘Yes.’ Masterduke smiled. He stopped. He beamed at her. ‘I am. I am Solitaire. Thank you.’
‘Sergeant Coal, we’ll take him with us.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Honey sighed. She closed her eyes briefly and smiled. There was a flash and a whistle. She blinked. She looked at her hooves. They were yards away, on the rock. Blood oozed from stumps. Her head rolled.
The thrall was odd. The pony was an Earth, which was neither new nor special, but something about the helmet had changed. Its shape was rounder, slightly more compact than usual. Its metal and dull crystals looked more or less the same, but the energy they emanated felt different. The ponies who’d brought it into the Pit waited in silence as Lieutenant Mask completed his inspection. ‘What do you make of it?’ he aimed at their sergeant.
‘It’s the shape, sir,’ replied the sergeant.
‘Yes.’
‘A change of design.’
Mask frowned. ‘But why?’ He scanned the thralls chained to the wall. ‘Why would Sombra change it? They already obey him completely!’ He paused. ‘To make them harder to remove?’ he suggested. The sergeant shrugged.
‘Maybe, sir.’
Mask sighed and nodded. ‘Well, as luck would have it, we have a liberator in the regiment – Major Masterduke. Send one of your lot to fetch him for me. I want his opinion on this.’
‘Yes, sir. Twinkle? Off you pop.’
‘Yes, sir.’
At Colonel Comet’s tent Twinkle saluted the sentry, who saluted too. ‘Lieutenant Mask requires Major Masterduke,’ said Twinkle.
‘Major Masterduke has been arrested,’ the sentry told him. Twinkle blinked.
‘Arrested?’
‘Yes.’
‘But – why?’
‘I don’t know. An officer, Major Honey, came with a warrant. Colonel Comet’s dealing with it.’
‘May I see him?’
‘In you go. Good luck.’
‘Thanks.’
Colonel Comet stood at his desk, absorbed in paper. ‘What is it?’ he grunted without looking up.
‘Private Twinkle, sir, for Lieutenant Mask – he wants to see Major Masterduke, sir, but I’ve just been told he’s been arrested.’
Colonel Comet glared at Twinkle, who swallowed. ‘What does Mask want him for?’
‘It’s the helmets, sir.’
‘What?’ snapped Comet.
‘The helmets – we turned in our thralls, and many of them are wearing different helmets. Lieutenant Mask wants Major Masterduke’s opinion.’
Comet sighed. He shook his head. ‘Lieutenant Mask will have to wait,’ he grunted. ‘Major Honey –’ he spoke the name through gritted teeth ‘– has indeed arrested him, is interrogating him – and until she’s finished, he is as good as absent.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The helmets are “different”. What’s different about them?’
‘I don’t know, sir. The shape looks different, but we have no idea whether the effects are different. They fought just the same when we caught them, sir.’
Comet closed his eyes and sighed deeply. ‘And Masterduke’s the only pony in the regiment who can tell us,’ he muttered. He thumped his desk. ‘Honey be damned. I’ve had enough of “Solitaire”. She can mess around once the real work’s been done.’ He scribbled an order and gave it to Twinkle. ‘Take this to Major Honey, and bring Major Masterduke back with you to see the helmets,’ he commanded. ‘The narrows, third fissure to your left. Dismissed.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Twinkle saluted and left. He trotted from the cave to the fissure Comet had indicated, entered and slowed. It was tight and tall. He wound through it, paper clamped between his teeth. After a couple of minutes it widened rapidly and opened into a series of narrows. Red uniforms leaned against the entrance to one of them, as though their owners were lounging, and Twinkle approached, preparing to salute again.
He froze. His mouth fell open. The order fell to the floor.
‘Leaving, are you?’ said Starburst. Masterduke spun around frantically. He’d been snatching up his belongings, stuffing his bag with what rations he had left. He saw Starburst. He blew air and his shoulders slumped.
‘Leaving. Yes. Yes. Yes, I am.’ Masterduke was breathing heavily. Starburst nodded.
‘What did she want?’ he asked.
‘Who, Honey?’
‘Who else?’
Masterduke chuckled. ‘Solitaire, of course,’ he giggled.
‘I thought so.’ Starburst worked his mouth. Masterduke glared at him. ‘So, you’re getting away,’ continued Starburst, ‘before she catches up. Flanks.’ He worked his mouth. ‘Honestly, professor? I hoped you would. This way it ends, and no one else gets hurt. I don’t have to keep your secrets, and you can go –’ he half-spat ‘– and be whatever you want to be.’
‘You told her!’ Masterduke hurled at him, eyes popping. Starburst frowned.
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Starburst,’ hissed Masterduke. ‘Not you.’
Starburst scowled. ‘I never told her.’ He glared darkly at Masterduke. ‘And you want to know why? It’s because I thought about it, and I realised it’s exactly what you’d do,’ he sneered. ‘You accused me of being a “pragmatist”. Flanks! Well, look in the mirror! You know, I didn’t think your little lecture would change anything, but it looks as though it did! You were right. I will keep my word, and it’s for my own sake, not yours. Because you know where it leads you, if you do what’s convenient?’ He sniffed, scowling. He worked his mouth. ‘Look no further,’ he growled.
Masterduke blinked. ‘But –’ he hesitated ‘– she told me you told her,’ he muttered.
Starburst frowned. He looked at Masterduke. He shrugged. ‘Well, I didn’t.’ Masterduke goggled at him, eyes wide as plates. He half-snorted, half-sobbed.
‘Then –’ He sniggered. ‘It was all just a bluff?’ he breathed. He chuckled. He leaned back his head and laughed. Starburst stared at him. ‘Goodbye, Starburst,’ said Masterduke eventually, beaming. ‘Enjoy playing by whatever rules you choose. Enjoy your ribbons.’ He chuckled again. ‘I’ve chosen mine.’
Five minutes later Twinkle came pelting toward Colonel Comet’s tent, gasping for breath, wide-eyed and trembling. ‘Colonel, sir!’ he wheezed. ‘The squad! It’s Major Honey, sir! She’s dead! They’re all dead!’
Meanwhile, Solitaire turned to examine the fissure he’d exited. He grinned, then cantered away into the dunes, into the gleaming sun.
Only one pony sat in the office. Behind a desk was an empty chair. On the walls were photographs, framed certificates and a pencil sketch – a schooner on a calm sea. The carpet was grey and sterile. Files and stationery sat on shelves. A gable-green metal cabinet leaned against high wooden skirting. Beside it drooped a flag on its pole. The pony’s coat was light grey and her mane mulberry and indigo. Her work clothes were worn but clean, with neatly made turn-ups and a bowed headband. She sat as though the world was right. She hummed, blinking, her large eyes wandering across the room. The door opened and she turned without getting up. A pony wearing a colonel’s uniform limped forward and, sighing, dropped into the seat. He rearranged some papers, pulled some forward, pushed others aside and read something briefly. The pony who had waited smiled. ‘So,’ said the Colonel. ‘My adjutant tells me you think you know who Solitaire is and that you think he is still at large.’
‘Hello, Colonel, and yes, that’s right.’
‘Well?’
‘He is not some supernatural being, as the stories portray him. He’s a forgotten spellmaker, a former major named Masterduke.’
‘What in Celestia’s name led you to that conclusion?’
‘Oh, a lady has her ways.’
‘Really. You. A seamstress.’
The pony smiled. ‘I’m really rather good at investigating,’ she said. ‘I think that, with a little time and some thought – and some good ponies with me – I could track him down.’
‘Well, you certainly appear to have a knack for knowing things you shouldn’t. What was your name again?’
‘Rarity.’
‘Alright, then, Rarity – let’s say Solitaire’s still at large. I want to know where he is, and I want to know what he’s doing. Report to Captain Snow, head of the investigation. And if he’s satisfied with your information and your ways, then show us what you can do.’
‘I would be delighted, Colonel.’
‘And, Rarity –’
‘Yes?’
Colonel Tango sighed. ‘I wish you luck. You have big horseshoes to fill.’
