Trial and Error

As Twilight juggled her bags and followed Gilda to the station, she had reason to be glad that she had already made a round of very thorough good-byes, with all the prerequisite I'll-miss-yous and promises to write and bring back interesting souvenirs. At the pace Gilda was moving, one might assume she was the one in trouble with the law – and it occurred to Twilight that she actually might be, if her theory about her guide being roped into the job out of Community Service held any water. Looking at Gilda's hunched shoulders and tense wings, Twilight decided it was probably best not to actually ask her just yet.

Twilight racked her memory to see what she could recall of Gilda's brief visit two – was it three? No, just the two – years ago. Certainly, she'd heard from Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie that Gilda was thoroughly unpleasant and generally someone to be avoided, but apart from that she was drawing a blank on the details. There was definitely something about one of Pinkie's parties, but obviously that didn't exactly narrow it down very much.

At the very least, she could be glad that they were making good time. Gilda's size, mean expression and fearsome appearance (Twilight hoped sincerely that that wasn't racist) cleared a path as easily as a snow-plow and a loudspeaker. Even the ponies who didn't remember Gilda's last visit, or just hadn't seen her the first time around, decided that giving her a wide berth was probably in their best interest. Following in her wake was a slightly surreal experience, akin to being surrounded by some kind of invisible and impenetrable bubble.

Even with all their luggage, they reached the station with plenty of time to spare until the 1:31 to Canterlot arrived. At least, Twilight thought of it as the 1:31 to Canterlot. In actual fact, they would be getting off at a stop just outside the city, where the bizarre Griffonic flying machine was waiting for its passengers. Twilight wondered what it would be like to be the only non-Griffon on board. The thought occurred that it might be something like the way Spike felt all the time.  When she realised that she would be able to make notes, and then compare them, her mood brightened considerably. As far as Twilight Sparkle was concerned, nothing was quite as much fun as comparing notes.

She decided to strike up a bit of conversation. “So, how are you enjoying your visit to Equestria?” They were the first words either of them had spoken since the library, and if Twilight was perfectly honest they felt a little bit lacklustre.

Gilda started. After a moment or two of silence, she muttered “It's fine, I guess.” This sullen offering was followed shortly by “I'll be glad to get out of Ponyville, at any rate.” Twilight was reminded uncannily of the experience of trying to get a full sentence out of Spike whenever he was feeling particularly teenaged.

Twilight nodded in what she hoped was a chipper, can-do way. “Eager to get back home, huh?”

At the mention of home, something approaching happiness replaced Gilda's foul mood. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.” At that, Gilda apparently decided that she was done talking, and Twilight left things there.

The train pulled in a few minutes late, which Gilda swore passionately and vulgarly would not have happened in East Griffony. Twilight was surprised to find that they would be travelling in first class, but apparently diplomatic and legal duty carried certain privileges. Twilight settled down on one of the plush red seats, and Gilda spread her leonine bulk across two and glared daggers at anypony who tried to sit too close to them. Even their luggage was given plenty of space, as if it were intimidating purely by association with the scowling Griffon.

After a few stops had passed, Twilight decided to attempt conversation again. Gilda might be happy enough to go to East Birdlin and back without saying a word, but Twilight was sure she could show her the error of her ways. “So, about this flying machine we'll be travelling in.”

Gilda snorted loudly. “Flying machine? You sound like somebirdy in a pulp fantasy story. It's called an aeroplane.”

Twilight tried to ignore Gilda's rudeness. If her partner was going to be uncooperative, then she would just have to put in extra effort to be polite. “Aeroplane, then. Is there anything I'm supposed to...do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, are there any rules about it or anything like that? Is there a certain way I have to act once I'm on board?”

“Sure. If the engines won't start, you'll have to get out and help push.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “You're mocking me, aren't you?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

There was only so much rudeness Twilight could take. “Well, I'm sorry I'm not familiar with Griffonic technology that I've never seen before. Obviously, I should have a perfect understanding of it as soon as I hear its name.”

Gilda shifted in her seats until she could look Twilight straight in the eye. If Twilight was honest, staring Gilda in the face was a little unnerving. “And I'm sorry your dweeb-ass country uses spells and potions for everything instead of inventing a solution like somebirdy with a brain would.”

“Firstly, an entire country cannot be a 'dweeb', that would make no sense. Secondly, an ass is another name for a Donkey, which is an entirely different species to ponies! Most of them don't even live anywhere near us, they have some kind of indentured servant thing happening with the Dragons! How can you get us mixed up?”

“If it looks like a dork on hooves, and it sounds like a dork on hooves, and it acts like a dork on hooves, who cares what kind of dork on hooves it is?”

“Ponies don't look like Donkeys, you nitwit. The tails are completely different.”

“Whatever.”

They spent the rest of the journey in an uncomfortable silence. Twilight pondered turning Gilda's feathers green, or perhaps just gumming up her beak. Gilda, for her part, slept most of the way. That, to Twilight, was the most galling thing of all. Not only was Gilda happy to openly and publicly insult not just her but all equine species as a whole, but she cared so little about what she had done that taking a nap was perfectly easy for her.

'If I make it there and back without zapping her with magic lightning, it will be a miracle', thought Twilight. She had to admit, the idea of throwing around bolts of sorcery like some evil storybook villain was an entertaining one.

Eventually, they alighted a little way down the mountain from Canterlot. Twilight was disconcerted to notice that she and Gilda were the only ones getting on or off the train at this stop. The walk to the airfield was just as silent and uncomfortable as the last half of the train ride had been, and Twilight began to consider extending an olive branch to Gilda. Any such thoughts left her head as they reached the airfield and Twilight caught her first glimpse of the flying machi-aeroplane, she corrected herself.

The body of the thing was very long, and comprised of some kind of dull grey metal. At one end, it flared up into an odd shape covered with several painted designs and writing in an odd script. The other end narrowed to a round point below several rectangular windows. The wing extending towards Twilight looked to be almost as long as the vehicle itself, and lodged on the front of it was a propeller attached to something huge and ungainly.

How this thing was supposed to fly was beyond her.

The airfield itself seemed simple enough. There were buildings similar to those in the airports that Canterlot's airships docked at, and a few metal structures like those of the military facilities she'd seen visiting her brother both in Canterlot and his new home in the Crystal Empire. There was also a long, straight road like the ones some Pegasi liked to use to get a running take-off, although this was on a larger scale.

Gilda's mood seemed to have improved considerably. At first Twilight thought she might be some kind of mechanics enthusiast, before she noticed the Griffons milling around the Aeroplane. Three of them were wearing a blue-grey uniform of a professional and slightly militaristic cut, and the others were talking animatedly with them. As they drew closer, she was able to pick up more and more of their their conversation, though she couldn't hear it clearly until they were almost upon them.

“No, no, they'll never agree to it. The Easterners can't make anything stick, and everybirdy involved knows it.”

“I wouldn't be so sure. They've said similar things before, of course, but I can't recall them being so persistent before.”

“Bah. East Griffony rattles sabres as if it were their national sport.”

At the mention of her nation, Gilda decided to speak up. “It's really more of a pastime than an actual sport. Now, what are you decadent foreigners talking about, and how are you slandering the glorious workers' paradise?” Her tone of voice suggested that she found something very funny indeed, although Twilight couldn't for the life of her think what it might be. In the quiet that followed, Twilight tried to discretely drop her luggage in the pile with all the rest.

Most of the Griffons were stunned into silence, but one of the passengers was quicker on the ball than the others. He turned to the new arrivals and replied in a similarly light tone “What we are talking about, you joyless birdshevik peasant, is that spy who apparently got shot down over East Griffonic airspace.”

“Oh! Him!” Gilda waved a talon in a dismissive gesture. “No, he's nothing. Absolute maximum the Party will do is use him as an excuse to pull out of those talks next month.”

The one who had spoken nodded. “I expected it would be something along those lines. I'm Gavin, by the way, Gavin Wingsor.”

Gilda shook his talon. “Gilda Kittenpanzer. And this is Twilight Sparkle, who I guess is my charge, if that's the word.” Twilight wasn't particularly sure she liked the sensation of suddenly being the centre of attention in a circle of Griffons.

Gavin shook Twilight's hoof, and for the first time she got a good look at him. Though she wasn't quite sure how to judge a Griffon's age, she felt certain that he was older than her or Gilda, probably either in his forties or at whatever age was the equivalent for Griffons. His feathers sat flatter on his chest than those of any of the other Griffons, and he moved with a kind of relaxed slowness unique to those who have seen enough of the world to be satisfied with their place in it. “Her charge! I don't think I've ever met a charge before. What exactly are you charged with?”

“I'm, ah, somepony's lawyer. Representing the Thrones, you know.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gilda talking to one of the uniformed Griffons and showing them a bundle of tickets and ID papers.

“I see. Well, I hope they're not too obviously guilty of whatever it is they're accused of – oh, look, I think we'll be taking off soon.”

Twilight turned around to follow his gaze. One more Griffon in the same blue-grey uniform was making his way (at least, Twilight thought he was a he) towards the aeroplane and the crowd around it. He nodded curtly to the other uniformed Griffons, and after one of them opened a door in the side of what Twilight assumed was the cockpit he made his way up a staircase that had lowered down to the ground. The passengers were directed to a similar door a few metres down the plane, and Twilight happened to be the first aboard.

The first thing that struck her about the inside was the size of it. When everything was designed to accommodate a Griffon's great bulk, a pony looked decidedly small by comparison. She let Gilda direct her to a pair of seats near the front, and tried not to feel like a foal who has been invited to the adults' table at a dinner party as she struggled to settle down in what was for her a significantly oversized seat.

She was pleased to see that Gavin was sitting across the aisle from her. She was about to continue their earlier conversation, on the assumption that Gilda was better left alone, when one of the uniformed Griffons stood up at the front of the room and motioned for their attention. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you aboard this flight to Clawsaw, with layovers at Birdmingham and West Birdlin. Please keep your seats in the upright position during takeoff and landing, be aware of the emergency exits to my left and right, and have a pleasant flight. You'll be with us for the next 18 hours if you're going all the way, and we hope you enjoy it.” With this, the Griffon turned around and went through a heavy looking door.

Twilight turned to Gilda. “You'd think the GDR would have put us on a flight that was headed to the city they want us in.” If there was one thing she'd figured out about her companion, it was that Gilda enjoyed a good complain. It seemed an odd way to get talking again, but maybe it would work.

Gilda shrugged, but at least her mood seemed better than it had been. “Well, there's not exactly a surplus of flights out of Equestria and into the GU. We're probably lucky we're not being dropped off in Purrich. Oh, and a word of advice – never call it the GDR until we're actually in-country. Nobirdy outside it calls it that. Instead, we are on our way to East Griffony.”

“But why would a country have two names? That makes no sense! And how come there are two Griffonies, anyway? Or are there only two?” Twilight was struck with a vision of a map of countless tiny Griffonies, marked in all the colours of the rainbow.

Gilda chuckled grimly. “No,” she replied, “just the two. The Griffon Democratic Republic in the East, and the Federal Griffon Republic in the West. They used to be the same, but...well, we don't really talk about it. Not with outsiders, at any rate.”

“I see”. Twilight decided not to press it. She had no idea what kind of catastrophe could split a country in two, but whatever it was she could understand not wanting to discuss it.

She spoke with Gavin about family, friends, and other small topics to pass the time for a while, but before long she found the drone of the propellers lulling her to sleep. She made her apologies to an understanding Gavin, and settled down in her conveniently large and bed-like chair.

An extraordinarily loud noise shook Twilight from her slumber. At first she assumed that it was a part of this bizarre machine's operation and prepared to have a bit of a grumble, before she saw that the Griffons looked just as startled as she had been. Following their gazes, she saw a sight that shook her fully awake – one of the engines was belching out ugly black smoke, and they were losing altitude fast.