Spies: Jr

THE BIGGEST HOLE IN THE WORLD!

Playing in holes is fun. The biggest hole in the world is in Equestria and it’s called the Galloping Gorge. It’s more than a thousand kilometres long and two kilometres deep, which means that if you fell into the deepest part, you’d have three and a half minutes to regret putting your hooves on that slippery piece of rock before you finally hit the bottom and went KER-SPLAT.

Lots of ponies play inside the Galloping Gorge. They climb up the walls, they ride rafts down the river that runs along the base and some ponies even jump off the edge in hang gliders and fly down to the bottom.

If you think that flying to the bottom of the world’s biggest hole with a little glider strapped to your back is too scary, a more sensible option is to go down in an air chariot.

Lots of ponies do this and during tourist season dozens of air chariots swoop in and out of the canyon, keeping close to the edges. Most passengers get a thrill out of seeing the scenery whiz by, though it has been known to make some of them a bit queasy.

The pegasi who fly into the canyon are very skillful and air chariots are very safe, so things never go wrong.

Well, almost never…

YOU MUST BE THIS TALL TO FLY!

Five Years Ago

Four year old Cat and her three year old brother Pancake were on holiday in Appleoosa. They spent the night in a motel a few kilometres from the Galloping Gorge.

Before setting off to visit the gorge the next morning, the two youngsters were taken out into the desert sunshine and made to stand on the back of their family’s rental cart.

Their Mummy, Daddy and older brother Streak stood alongside them and they got a mare who was walking by to take a photograph so that the whole family could be in it.

Afterwards, the family got on their cart and set off for the gorge.

When they arrived, Pancake escaped. The foal clambered between the metal railings and leaned over the biggest hole in the world before his mother dragged him away.

‘You’re a very silly colt, Pancake,’ she said sternly. ‘Stay away from the edge or I’ll make you wait behind when everyone else rides on the air chariot.’

‘But I want to goooooooooooo in the chariot,’ Pancake whined.

He kicked at the desert sand with a hoof and made a big fuss as his mum grabbed his ear in her mouth and marched him towards the runway.

By the time the five members of the family arrived at the runway, Pancake’s fur was a mess: bright red, with snot and tears running everywhere.

To make things worse, Pancake’s twelve year old brother Streak wouldn't let him look through his binoculars and his four year old sister Cat was behaving like a perfect little mare and generally showing her brother up.

But Pancake forgot about his tantrum when he saw the air chariot coming in to land. It was silver. It had Princess Celestia's Cutie Mark painted on the side and it made such a racket that he held his hooves over his ears.

The pegasi crew took off their harnesses, dressed in flight suits, ear protectors and goggles. He trotted over and opened the side doors while the rest of the crew waited patiently to the side and two fat stallions clambered out of the passenger compartment.

As the stallions waddled towards the terminal building, the pegasus waved the family towards his chariot. But he frowned when they got close. He leaned inside his craft and pulled out a measuring stick.

He lined it up against Cat and Pancake and supplied terrible news to the family:

‘They’re too short to fly, Mrs Gold. You have to be taller than my stick to ride in my Chariot.’

          Pancake’s mum looked very upset.

‘But it was so expensive,’ she said. ‘We booked tickets for the whole family as a special treat.’

          ‘It’s in the terms and conditions, maam. You should have read them. Our safety belts aren’t designed to hold small foals.’

          ‘What if my husband and I hold on to one each?’ Mrs Gold asked.

          ‘I’m very sorry, but it’s against regulations. I could lose my licence if I let you do that.’

          Pancake was too little to understand what was going on as a smiling mare came running out of the terminal building and gave ice creams to him and Cat.

          ‘I’ll make it up to you both,’ Pancake’s mum said, as she leaned down and gave her two youngest foals the kind of smile she usually saved for injections and trips to the dentist. ‘You’ll have to wait inside, but we’ll only be away for twenty minutes. The mare will look after you and she says they have a play area and a big box of toys.’

          Cat looked upset, but Pancake was more concerned with tearing the wrapper off his ice cream, as his parents and older brother climbed inside the chariot.

          ‘So long, suckers!’ twelve-year-old Streak said, giving his little brother and sister a wave, as the pegasus slammed the door of the chariot and took his place at the front of the air chariot.

          Cat looked upset, but Pancake was finding his chocolate covered ice cream a highly satisfactory alternative to an air chariot ride, especially when he got inside the big glass terminal building and saw the play area with a giant model chariot and a trampoline.

          ‘Cry foal,’ Pancake sang to his sister, as he raced up the steps of the slide with his ice cream held in his mouth.

          As he glided down on his bum, a flash of orange light tore through the window, followed by an earthshaking bang.

Everypony started screaming.

When Pancake hit the bottom of the slide, he raced outside behind all the grown ups to see what was going on.

          ‘Mummy!’ Cat screamed, holding her hooves over her face.

          The air was filled with black smoke and the smell of burning lighter fuel from the exploded air chariot. Chunks of smouldering metal and wood were scattered all around in the sand.

          ‘Oh Luna,’ a large stallion cried as he stared up at the cloudless sky. ‘I just saw a family get inside that thing.’

          ‘Mummyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,’ Cat screamed again.

          Pancake felt very strange. He was too little to understand what had just happened, but the hot sun was making his ice cream melt all over his muzzle so he thought he’d better concentrate on licking it up.

          Pancake’s mum always got cross if he made a big mess with an ice cream.

COMPUTER HACKING CLASS

Pancake was now eight years old. He lived with the Equestrian Spy School and was training to be a professional spy. He had spent about half a year in an orphanage with his sister Cat, when they were approached by these mysterious mares wearing suits. The mares had offered to take them in and Cat accepted, taking Pancake with her.

He didn’t remember much about his dead mum and dad, but he could remember the air chariot crash and hadn’t eaten a mouthful of ice cream since that sad day.

Ice cream seemed like extremely unlucky stuff.

          It was Friday afternoon and Pancake was in computer hacking class with seven other colts and fillies. Each foal had a computer on the wooden bench in front of them. Their task was to unscrew the metal case, remove some of the bits inside, pull out a wire on the back panel, install a special thingy called a key-logger, then put everything back together again.

          And they were only allowed ten minutes to do it in.

          ‘Two minutes left,’ Miss Weller said firmly.

          Pancake felt hot and the tension was making his stomach turn somersaults. He’d pulled lots of stuff out of the computer and fitted the key-logger. But now he had a pile of bits left over and couldn’t work out where they’d all come from.

          Even worse, three other kids had completed the task and the rest all had the covers back on their computers and were calmly finishing off.

          ‘Ninety seconds remaining.’

         Pancake looked helplessly at the loose wires dangling inside the computer and the green circuit board in his hoof. He glanced pleadingly at the aqua marine furred filly who sat at the next bench, with her task complete and her forearms neatly folded.

          Her name was Lyra. She was also eight years old and she was Pancake’s room mate and best friend – even though she was a filly.

          ‘Connect that to the yellow wire,’ Lyra whispered, trying not to move her lips.

          But Miss Weller was the sort of teacher who could hear someone farting three floors down.

          ‘Don’t help him, Lyra,’ Miss Weller said angrily. ‘This is not a team assignment.’

          Pancake had taken Lyra’s hint and fitted the yellow wire to the circuit board. But he still didn't have a clue where to fit the board inside the computer.

Even worse, everypony else had now finished. The room was silent apart from the sound of Pancake’s magic fumbling helplessly inside the computer case.

          ‘Thirty seconds left, Mr King. You’d better get your skates on.’

          As Pancake made a desperate last attempt to force the circuit board into the wrong slot, it made a sharp crack and snapped in two.

          ‘Nooo!’ Pancake gasped.

          His hopeless task had now become an impossible one. And to make things even worse, a couple of his classmates sniggered at his misfortune.

          ‘Time’s up,’ Miss Weller said airily, taking a final glance at her watch. ‘Everyone who has finished their task can leave. Have a lovely weekend and don’t forget to read chapters thirteen and fourteen in time for the next day’s lesson.’

          All the colts and fillies except Pancake and Lyra grabbed their saddlebags and filed out of the small computer hacking workshop.

          ‘You can go, Lyra,’ Miss Weller said.

          She shrugged. ‘I’ll wait for Pancake. We’re going paintballing together.’

          Miss Weller looked surprised. ‘I thought you were both banned from paintballing.’

          ‘It was only a three week ban,’ Lyra said. ‘It ended yesterday.’

          Miss Weller tutted. ‘I’ll tell the medical unit to expect heavy casualties if they’re letting you two back on the paintball range.’

          ‘We’re not that bad, Miss,’ Lyra said, grinning guiltily.

          Miss Weller now stood beside Pancake and looked at the tangle of wires inside the metal case.

          ‘A disaster,’ she announced, shaking her head. ‘How old are you Pancake?’

          ‘Eight miss.’

          ‘Nearly eight and a half, isn’t it?’

          ‘Yes, Miss.’

          Miss Weller shook her head gravely. ‘In less than a year and a half, you’re going to turn ten and be sent to basic training. You’ve lived here for more than three years already. You’ll be expected to pass first time and qualify as an underage spy. But that’s not going to happen if you produce sloppy results like this, is it?’

          ‘No, Miss,’ Pancake said sheepishly.

          ‘You’ve removed circuit boards and wires that you didn’t need to touch and you snapped that piece by trying to force it into the wrong slot.’

          ‘Sorry, Miss.’

          Miss Weller tutted. ‘Will sorry cut it when you’re working on a job? What if that computer belonged to a drug dealer or a terrorist? Your life might be in danger if you messed up their computer. Have you even read the chapters in the textbook?’

          ‘Of course,’ Pancake lied, as he shot an evil glance at the battered copy of the ESS Guide to Computer Hacking on the desk in front of him.

          ‘What did the chapters tell you to do with the DVD drive?’

          ‘Unplug it?’ Pancake guessed, as Lyra frantically shook her head.

          ‘Hah,’ Miss Weller said triumphantly. ‘You haven’t read it. Those chapters don’t say anything about the DVD drive. Do you even know what a key-logger is?’

          ‘Something to do with, erm … logging keys?’ Pancake said weakly.

          ‘Once installed, a key-logger records everything typed by the pony using the computer. We can return to the computer a few days later, remove the key-logger and we’ll know every password and security code that the owner typed in.’

          Miss Weller grabbed the hacking guide off of Pancake’s bench and pressed it firmly against his chest.

          ‘Study it properly,’ she said. ‘I’ll be expecting you to repeat this exercise after class the next lesson. If you mess up again, I’ll make you clean the senior toilets. Is that understood?’