Status Quo

“Do you remember that night, Rainy? The one where you and I met, and started our journey together?”

“Tonight is on me. Enjoy the music, try and relax.”

Clear, you wonderful fool of a sister.

I did what she said, of course. Sat myself down at a booth with the stage in clear view, used what caps she gave me to get myself a pint of cider. The drink was her choice too, something strong in hopes that the buzz would be enough to loosen me up. She saw it as her foal-proof plan; a way to relax that absolutely nopony was able to resist.

Now if only it actually worked. Sure, I got a small buzz from what little of the cider I had, but it was way too sweet tasting for my liking. It was nowhere near enough to take my mind off its sole, consistent thought. A thought that had rattled my brain for two full years now.

How the fuck does an ordinary pegasus, too young to be part of Operation Cauterize, get a job down here?

In the Enclave Remnant it would have been an incredibly simple solution. Everypony there was already coming from some manner of military background, Clear Sky and I included. The recruiters took literally anyone with two wings, the required age bumped down from eighteen to fifteen. It made them look desperate, and that was a problem they knew they had to solve quickly.

Their solution? Put a pegasi with high status to the gun and threaten anyone who dares to try and desert that the same would happen to them. We left directly before that, because we were to be the unfortunate family used as an example. At least, Clear and I did. Dad stayed behind, pulling the attention of those responsible for such a decision on him alone. He died for us, just like mom did eight years before that.

The Enclave was no longer an option, and good luck getting your standard wastelander to understand that when your kind were the ponies that nearly killed them all. Nothing the Lightbringer wrote in her book, nothing that the newly formed NCR said, and nothing that we told them changed it. We are pegasi, we might kill them because they don’t have wings, repeat into eternity. Only reason Clear had a job before me was because she had friends who also liked to play instruments. I had the luck of a newborn foal alone in the forest, with nothing but predators surrounding them.

“It’s no big deal,” Clear would say. “We got a home, even if it is pretty small. We got caps, even if it isn’t a lot. We can live, so stop stressing about jobs and whatnot and just enjoy Brayington for once.”

Didn’t matter how beautiful Equestria’s old resort area was, that feeling that I should be doing something for a living never left. My younger sister, only turned eighteen a few months prior and as peppy as a foal, was the one making a living and I didn’t like that. This was supposed to be the other way around, me providing for her. Why was I so unapproachable compared to her? What about me specifically was so wrong?!

I just… don’t get it.

The slow tune they played, a cover on an old Sweetie Belle piece, just made me more frustrated from my musings. It was beautiful, genuinely it was, but my brain couldn’t find it in itself to relax. I found my eyes trailing away from the stage and to the other ponies that were present here. The place was overall more sizable than most, though given this specific space showed signs it had once been even more fancy than it already was, perhaps that was expected. Was a good gig for them, and paid damn well, all things considered.

The money gained was still all hers though. Nothing wrong with that but… I wish I was able to do more than just freeload.

A mare set down what I had ordered, refusing to look me in the eyes or even talk. She headed off as soon as she had arrived, not giving me time to say thanks. Watching her out of the corner of my eye as I feigned to turn my attention back towards the stage, I bore witness to her being significantly more friendly to the griffon couple next to me. I frowned, considering everything I knew about Operation Cauterize from both the remnants and the surface ponies I’ve talked to.

Brayington was not even a minor target for the Enclave, just like how it had been spared the spellfire that came with the end of a world long ago. Manehattan, New Appleloosa, Stalliongrad, San Palomino, all of those places were on the high council’s shitlist. Nopony cared about little, mountainy Brayington though. So why did they care so greatly about us?

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

My eyes turned in the opposite direction of the hostess that had ignored me. It was a bat pony, the faintest sign of blue in his coat underneath a brown suit. His tail was short, well maintained, mostly gray from age, mane and eyes hidden underneath a bowler hat. He was smiling, watching the performance on stage with a fascination that no one else had. The trail of horseshoes he had for a cutie mark didn’t give me much clue as to his name or talent.

“The low, melancholic bass, invisible to the untrained ear yet so incredibly vital. The saxophone with its soulful tone, striking your heart in a way that can only be described as nostalgia,” he took a sip of a deep red wine, almost able to be mistaken for blood from the coloration, “and that voice. Smooth as the fur on her body.”

I blinked, gazing at the bat pony for a couple more seconds before turning back. A small chuckle left my throat, realizing I had been fooled by one stallion’s love for music. Grabbing my cider, I down just a little bit more. It made me want to gag, but this was a public space; not going to draw attention to myself over something as dumb as taste.

“You know, that was meant to be a conversation starter,” he said. I looked back towards him, blinking yet again upon seeing cloudy eyes in my general direction. “A pegasus mare as young as yourself, drinking alone. Seems to me this was a destined encounter.”

A scoffed at the creepy old bastard. “If your intention is to flirt, I’m not interested.”

“Nothing romantic about it. Been there, done that, I am past it.” He got up and trotted over to me, his featherless wing grabbing his drink. They took the seat directly across from me, slightly blocking my view of the stage, much to my chagrin. “That isn’t why I’m here. You came here for this little group, right?”

He placed a foreleg on the back of the chair, turning his body to watch the band. There was something suspicious about the way he said it, as if the question was just the first of more. The bowler hat, along with the way he turned his body, allowed me only his tone of voice to go off of. After checking to see if he was armed, finding nothing, I allowed myself to answer his question.

“My sister is the pony playing the saxophone there,” I said, leaning over the table slightly. “She wanted me to come to this performance, and I don’t really have anything better to do.”

“Got nowhere else to be?” He asked.

“Got no job to keep me occupied during the day,” I replied. “No reason to not come, especially when the pony keeping you under a roof offers a night to relax.”

“I see, I see,” the batpony mumbled. As the song came to a close, and a chorus of applause was sounded by everyone present – including myself – he turned back to me. “Solitary Pulse, freelance detective. You’ve captured my interest, Miss…”

“Rainy Day,” I said. I down a little more cider, barely enough to really be considered a sip. “Let me guess, I’m a subject in a case.”

Mister Pulse frowned. “Where’d you get that impression?”

“Other than your job? Nopony would talk to me otherwise.” I licked my lips, scowling at how the drink seemed to stain them with its flavor. “Got this face that apparently makes me unapproachable. Add that with the venom towards us pegasi, and what do you think?”

“I think… that you are jumping to conclusions,” Pulse replied, taking a second to sip his own wine in the middle of the sentence. “Though if you have anything to admit, I’m all ears.”

I stayed silent, knowing it didn’t matter if I said I was innocent or not. We stared at each other long enough for the next song to start, beginning with the wailing of my sister’s saxophone. My hindleg tapped the floor impatiently, waiting to hear what he was accusing me of. Instead, his expression slowly shifted off the frown and into a smile. One that grew and grew with each passing second until, finally, he leaned back and tilted his hat in such a way as to hide his eyes.

“Lots of folks around here complaining about a ‘turkey’ that refuses to leave. A cold, icy mare who always looks like she is analyzing you. Somepony may have tried to convince me you… shoplifted or some shit. Anything to get you a criminal record.”

“And shoplifting was the best that they could come up with?” I mumbled to myself. My head fell backwards, going over the chair’s backrest as I considered what he had just told me. “Well, I’m not going to fight it, at least not here. If you want to turn me in, go ahead.”

“I approve of your cooperation, but I thought my wording would have made it clear that I don’t agree with them,” Pulse responded. My mind had to do a double take upon hearing his words, my posture straightening out as my brow raised at him. “I don’t think of you as a troublemaker. Down on their luck, unwanted by most around here? I can see it, but you don’t strike me as a criminal. Though, their statement on you having this natural… iciness to you was definitely accurate.”

“You can blame my mom for that. According to my dad, I inherited it from her.” I briefly looked back towards the stage. Clear’s eyes went to me every once and a while, and I saw a smile on her face as I talked to the detective before me. She must have thought I had finally made a friend. “Neither of us knew her, so I’m not really sure how true that is. She died when we were young.”

“Part of Operation Cauterize, I assume?”

My mouth opened to answer, but I halted my words. A ministry mare of a world long gone would have said this was a moment to answer honestly, but it didn’t feel right. Everypony on the surface we had told about my mom – who she was and what she had done before disappearing late one night – had turned simple dissatisfaction at our presence into hatred. Honesty here would just give him a reason to go through with whatever form of revenge he saw fit.

Every surface pony had a reason to hate us, after all. Whether it was due to Operation Cauterize or some manner of interaction beforehoof didn’t matter. Nopony liked the Enclave, and they felt the exact same about the remnants and those who came from it. If you didn’t have Rainbow’s own mark on your flank, then they would just assume you are part of the problem. With that knowledge, the only choice I found comfortable with was a lie.

“Yes. Like many other pegasi, she died because of the high council’s idiocy,” I answered. Pulse’s expression went neutral, leaving me unable to read if he had bought the lie or not.

“I see. Sorry for your loss,” the batpony said.

A sharp exhale escaped my nostrils. “Thanks. My memory of her isn’t the clearest but dad said… he said her last words that day were about her concern for my sister and I. We meant a lot to her, that is clear.”

“Though us on the surface would paint her as some vile, murderous monster, you see her for something more clear,” Mister Pulse said, closing his eyes. He grinned, laughed, and then down the last of his drink before resting both his forelegs and wings on the back of the seat. “Allow me to ease your late mother’s worries. Miss Day, I wish to offer you a job.”

My ears perked up, my body seeming to hear his words before my brain fully registered them. Once it finally did hit me, panic and desperation nearly led me to say ‘yes’ without a single thought. The old stallion had definitely piqued my interest, but a hasty answer might just get me into trouble. Didn’t matter that he called himself a detective, there might be something to his job that he isn’t telling me.

“I’m not interested in merc work, detective.” I said. “Despite coming from a military family, weaponry isn’t my forte. My cutie mark is in weather management, whatever good that does me now.”

Mister Pulse was smart enough to see that it wasn’t a rejection, but rather a warning. He pushed his empty cup in, grin growing as he leaned forward.

“I’m not asking for a pony to kill for me. Already got a bodyguard, you might have just not noticed them,” he said, tilting his head left.

My eyes darted in the general direction, freezing as I saw a hippogriff in the far corner of the establishment, watching me out of the corner of their eye. Light green feathers, with a mane of teal and bleach, probably late twenties. A pistol was holstered on a belt, and upon noticing my eye contact they made a show of falsely reaching to grab it. It was enough to put me on edge, but not too much as to make me believe they were going to kill me.

Not right now, at the very least.

“Aereos would be peeved at me if they found out I did. They’ve been helping me for a long, long time. Far too long to be fired, especially considering how good they are at their job,” Mister Pulse explained. “Besides, you take me as the type who doesn’t want to add more fuel to all the anti-pegasi flames. How would you like to make a case for your folk instead?”

I blinked, and then mimicked him by leaning on the back of my own seat. “Go on.”

“You heard what it is I do, and you also took notice of my age. I have no doubt you understand that, sooner rather than later, I’ll be unable to perform my work,” Mister Pulse said, having a hoof in front of his eyes. His pupils did not follow it. “Yet if I settle down for some manner of retirement, I feel the world reverts just a little bit more. You’d be surprised at the amount of ponies who still live an anarchistic life, or are so inspired by the Lightbringer that they idiotically try to be her.”

He hung his head, letting out a sigh as his smile fell.

“Tell me, have you read her book?”

“No. The less I think of that mare the better,” I replied. “Don’t think I need to, really. She doesn’t take me as some great hero like the rest of the wasteland seems to paint her as.”

“I see, I see.” Any change in his expression evaporated, the grin coming back in full force. “You and I agree on that. After reading it myself, all I was able to take away is that she is a mare who cares not for the consequences of her actions.”

I tilted my head, eyeing the batpony curiously. “Not that this isn’t an interesting topic, but what does any of that have to do with the job proposition?”

“Heh, fair. I guess I’ve kept you guessing long enough,” he replied, shifting on his seat as if it had suddenly become far more comfortable. “I would like to hire you as an apprentice detective.”

There was a silence between us, the music of my sister’s band seeming to choose that moment to let their volume rise. He was hiring me to be his apprentice? Why me? Surely there were several dozen more deserving ponies who would be better than myself for such a position, but that didn’t matter. He asked me! Not some stable dweller or the spattering of others present at that exact moment, but a pegasus he had been sent to arrest for a crime that didn’t happen.

Once again the urge to immediately say yes wormed its way into my mind, but I forced it back down like bile. Sweet Goddesses, it is impossible to explain just how difficult that was at knowing one simple word was all that was standing between me and a possible career. It was only because some deep, cynical piece of me found it too convenient that I had the urge to resist. His choice made far too little sense.

“Why me?” I asked, tone neutral. Continue to not decline the offer, but pursue more information. It felt like the best option available to me. “Aren’t there others more suited for the job?”

“Perhaps, but I never asked any of them,” Mister Pulse explained. He gave me his own little tilt of his head as his grin went lopsided. “Most surface ponies don’t have the education or upbringing required for such work, and if they did I’m certain they’d refuse. Everypony is still getting used to the idea that there is some semblance of law in the world again, except perhaps in the San Palominan Alliance.”

“And you think I’m different from the common surface pony,” I stated.

Mister Pulse gave a firm nod. “Enclave background, which means you are more educated than most around you. You already showed you have a respect for law, being willing to hoof yourself in and turning down possible mercenary work, no offense to Aereo.”

His eyes darted over to the hippogriff, who motioned with their claws as if to say ‘none taken.’

“You also didn’t immediately say yes. You think, even when I may be your only available option for another year or two,” he said, finishing up his list of reasons. He took off his hat and placed it on the table. “The last one is just bonus points, mind you. Honestly, I wouldn't have put it past you to just start bouncing up and down repeating yes over and over again.”

“The urge was strong, trust me,” I said, snorting in amusement. The smile the batpony was putting on my face, buttering me up like this, was possibly the biggest one I had worn in years. “I guess, with that in mind, what would I need to do beforehoof. Any paperwork?”

He shook his head, the end of it coinciding with the finale of the current song. “I take it that is a yes?”

“Can’t exactly say no, can I? As you said, it might be another year or so before I have another chance like this.”

“Well in that case,” He stretched his hoof out to me. “Get a suit tomorrow and meet me at the Celestia Lodge that afternoon. You know where it is, right?”

My smile turned downright cocky as I took his hoof in my own, shaking it casually. The band started their next song, a brighter piece then the previous two, as if they had become aware of what had just happened to me. It was a coincidence I didn’t mind, and one that only made me feel all the more confident in my choice.

Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up.