Pony Express #2

>June 5th, 1944

 

>You sit with your back against the wall, legs sprawled out in the corridor connecting the two halves of the cab.

>Mike sits across from you, rubbing his face with his hands.

>”Alright, tell me if I got this straight. You kidnapped a purple pony princess and her little friend from a place called Canterlot, because she stole our tracks and one of our engines. That’s your story?”

“That’s not the most charitable way to put it for any party involved, but it does cover everything, yep.”

>”How did they even throw together that piece of junk? Are we really stuck with using this magic hand-cranked generator?”

“Scott did a good job on it, really. Don’t ask me how, but I think he’s put us in a pretty good spot. I mean as good as possible given the circumstances.”

>”And we’re trusting this mad Scotsman to not tell anyone what happened?”

“Half-Scottish, half-Irish, if I remember correctly. I think we can trust him.”

>”We’re already fired, you know that? We’re done, gone, may as well enlist now because the draft is going to snap us up as soon as someone with an ounce of brains finds out about this.” He slams his head against the wall he’s sitting against in exasperation. “I can smell the sands of Africa already.”

>You look over to Twilight, crumpled on the floor underneath the control seat to your right where you placed her. The pony still hasn’t woken up after the jump.

“Well, she started it. I don’t see how they could fire us if it was beyond our control.”

>”What, we need to show them? We can’t do that! They’re like aliens, except they come from a fairy tale instead of Mars.”

“I don’t think you’re approaching this reasonably.”

>”I think you’re being too reasonable for a man who casually hopped to another world and almost plowed through a derail at a hundred flat.”

>You fall silent instead of replying, still looking at Twilight.

>The instinct to treat her like a pet, to pat her side in her sleep, is overwhelming.

>This pony almost singlehandedly saved your hide and brought you home, and- if you understand her long-winded explanation earlier- is now stuck here; the teleport crystal is damaged and what little track came here that was originally from  Canterlot is a mangled twisted mess.

>She definitely deserves more dignity than you’d treat an animal with, despite her similarities to one.

>Just because all that makes sense doesn’t make it easy to internalize.

>You sigh to yourself and stand. Maybe a walk will clear your head a bit.

“I’ll be back. Treat ‘em right if they wake up.”

>”Don’t be too long. I don’t think Scott wants to stick around later than he has to and if we’re left out here without transferring into another shed before nightfall the boss is probably going to get suspicious.”

“Let’s hope they wake up soon, then.”

>You exit the cab and climb down the ladder. Looking to the side of Deuce, you see the paint on the side of the engine has been restored. The fresh enamel blends in nicely with the rest of the coat; the last paint job was recent enough it still has its very dark green hue.

>The Yardmaster’s office wasn’t far from the shed your locomotive was stranded outside. Leaving the area you pass the roundhouse the other engines are stored in, and wonder if you could convince them that the repairs had to wait overnight and you could get towed in.

>Any sort of movement at all will require both ponies to be awake. Scott had neatened up the dynamo from one end to another, so while it is a lot more efficient in operation you don’t think it’s been improved to the point to completely remove either pony from its operation.

>The pain from returning to Earth has subsided, but you were pretty thirsty. Twilight and her friend could probably use some water as well, after they wake up.

>A nearby bucket catches your eye as you crunch across the gravelly ground. It could probably hold as much water as they could want for the night…

>No, that’d be undignified. Stop that.

>Shaking your head, you step up and into the yardmaster’s spacious office.

>The building is mostly quiet; the workers are changing shifts and most of the trains are already on their runs. The consists in the yard wait for locomotives to take them out, and a couple shifter engines move around assorted lone cars. Everyone seems to have their instructions and they are carrying them out without much supervision.

>This means you won’t have to answer many questions.

>You look around the office illuminated only by the fading evening light.

>Papers and notes are in disarray on desks. Maps are plastered on every wall.

>On a cluttered table to your right you see a canteen near a coffee machine. That’ll do nicely.

>As you fill it from a sink nearby you hear someone on the steps outside the door.

>An older man walks through the door as you turn to see the source of the sound.

>Just your luck; it’s the yardmaster. There goes your hope of a clean getaway.

>You finish filling the canteen and turn to face him, but he gets the first words in.

>“Ah, Anon! Glad to see you’re doing alright! You gave us quite a scare back there. How are the… repairs coming?” The last few words are delivered in a much more deadpan tone than the earlier sentence.

>You put on your best smile and try to not let it bother you.

“They’re coming along, but slowly. Apparently some component they installed was defective, and it could have damaged a lot more if it wasn’t fixed. Scott was working on it alone, he told me he didn’t trust the rest of the crew after it fucked up the first time. Not that he said it was the crew’s fault.”

>The yardmaster gave you a hard stare. His jaw clenched and unclenched, giving the appearance of literally chewing on your words. “Yes… that’s very close to what Scott told me himself. It doesn’t explain everything though; I still have a brand new mess of broken track to deal with. Any idea what could have caused that?”

>You shrug in a manner exaggerated enough to allow you to avert your eyes from his hard stare. [spoiler] [/spoiler] “Mike found me out cold boss, I can’t really say.”

>The yardmaster’s stare doesn’t lessen. “Don’t bullshit me Anon, you’re lucky this went down on a light day. When we pick up again- and don’t think we won’t- this little setback could cost us a lot of time. If I find out you’ve had any part in this without telling me, I’ll go up and down through the chain of command to put your head on a pike.”

“I can’t even think of how anything short of an explosion could have caused what Mike told me he saw. And for all that happened to 4848 it hasn’t exploded. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

>The yardmaster looks like he might make something of that lack of knowledge for a moment before he lets loose a sigh and settles down. “When do you think you can be running again? We got a couple P5’s running your lines but we want you back in service as fast as possible. Only one is a Modified and the guys at the top want the boxcabs converted as soon as we’re able to.

“Scott said he’s almost done but depending on how it shapes up we may have to wait for something to cure or dry or sit or whatever. I didn’t press him too hard on it.”

>The yardmaster wipes his face with a hand, but accepts the indecisive answer. “Alright, I’ll have a shifter move 4848 to the roundhouse for the night. But I want you up here first thing in the morning in case Scott doesn’t get to me first; we need you back on the rails. We’ve locked down some sleeper cars on a siding near the roundhouse. You can use those tonight.”

>You nod enthusiastically, thankful your cover got through intact. [spoiler] [/spoiler] “Thanks boss. I’ll be here.”

>You edge past him and make for the door, but you’re stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

>”Oh, and Anon?”

>You crane your head around to look at him but your body remains firmly pointed for the exit.

>”Yes, you can borrow my canteen. I’d like it back here tomorrow morning.”

>You flash a weak smile and nod, and the yardmaster lets you go. You stride for the door and pound down the stairs, holding the canteen close to your chest in a white-knuckled grip.

>Maybe a little too close.

>Despite the short amount of time you were in the office, it’s significantly darker when you arrive back at the locomotive than when you left it. The quick summer evenings always caught you by surprise. You usually were off the tracks long before sundown this time of year, but the war saw to it that everyone worked overtime.

>Mike stands behind the train, looking over the small section of twisted track and shattered ties that got dragged with you from the other world. You can’t be sure but you think these tracks got dragged through because you overshot your mark.

>Your locomotive was only about a dozen yards from where the mess began. Even a fraction of a second later and you would have gone off the rails.

>Mike hears your boots on the gravel and looks to your approach. “You called it close there, Anon.” he echoes your thoughts.

“Well, I’m back safely. We’re staying the night here, a shifter is going to take Deuce over to the roundhouse and we’re bunking down in some sleepers nearby.”

>”We’ll have to get up pretty early to be out to New York by the morning. Will we be back to our usual routine?”

“Sounds like the plan. We’ll have to make sure we get the ponies up early and fed, so we’ll- oh hey.”

>You notice the sound of a shifter approaching, and turn to the front of your locomotive.

>A shifter is more or less a tiny engine dedicated to moving cars around within a rail yard. They aren’t particularly fast, and their range was pitiful, but they had much more power than their miniscule size would lead you to believe. This one was here to tow your engine to the roundhouse, so it could be stored safely for the night instead of sitting out in the middle of the yard.

>You wave to the shifter’s fireman as he steps down to couple to your engine, before turning back to Mike.

“Want to help them hook up? I’ll make sure everything’s okay inside.”

>Mike nods and jogs off to assist with coupling. You walk over to where he stood, and look at the debris.

>Alongside some of the twisted track is a rail spike. Despite the carnage around it, the spike looks almost pristine.

>Twilight said that for the teleport to bring you places, it had to be tuned to an object from there. Before they clear this away it might be a good idea to save something.

>You pick up the spike and carry it up into the cab with you.

>Looking to the rear control stations, you see the pair of ponies just where you left them. You’re starting to grow worried about how long it’s taking them to wake.

>At the forward station you make sure the brakes are disengaged and everything is ready to move.

>As soon as you sit back the shifter starts forward. Deuce starts rolling through the yard.

>It isn’t long before you hear a muffled groan from behind you. Turning around, you can see that the white unicorn hasn’t moved except for the small shifts expected with the bumps in the ride. It must be Twilight who is waking up.

>After grabbing the canteen and the spike, you make your way through the passage to the other side of the cab and down the corridor to the rear station.

>Sure enough, Twilight stands there uneasily, swaying side to side with the train’s minute movements. She hears your approach and looks up with a weak smile. “Guess we made it.”

“All thanks to you. Here, have some water.”

>The offered canteen glows with Twilight’s peculiar color of magic and floats over to her. She eyes the canteen for a moment before taking a big swig of the refreshing liquid.

“You’ll have to sit tight a moment, but we’re almost to a place where-“ [spoiler] [/spoiler] >You’re cut off by the train lurching to a halt before slowly starting to move in the opposite direction, [spoiler] [/spoiler] “where we’ll be able to get comfortable for the night. We need to talk.”

>Her tired but happy expression dimmed at the last sentence, but she nodded acquiescence. “If it’s about getting me home, I think I already know what the story is.”

>You edge by her and sit at the controls for this station, now the appropriate one since the locomotive reversed direction. Ahead the roundhouse looms, a door all the way to the left open and inviting you inside.

>The shifter pushes you onto the turntable, and then the locomotive lurches to a stop again. Outside you can hear the turntable machinery start to turn the engine in the right direction, but that isn’t enough to mask the uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry,” [spoiler] [/spoiler] >you say after several moments.

>”Don’t worry about it. Whatever reason it was we had to stay with you, it must have been important. I made the decision then, and I’ll stand by it now.” Twilight looks up at you with confidence in her eyes.

>You give Twilight a questioning look. [spoiler] [/spoiler] “You’re having a hard time remembering too, aren’t you?”

>Twilight squeezes her eye shut and shakes her head, trying to clear it. “Some parts. I guess the transfer wasn’t very smooth.”

“Just focus on what you do remember, that helped me get through to the rest. You two were out a lot longer than I was. Your friend is still down; she’s on the other side.”

>”Oh, her name is Vinyl Scratch. I’ll go check on her…” there’s a definite note of regret in Twilight’s tone as she walks away.

>The cab is darkened by the shadow of the roundhouse as Deuce is guided inside the temporary lodging. You look over to the control panel and flip the rear pantograph switch when you come to a stop. Out the windscreen you can see the contact rise against the wires overhead, and the interior of the cab becomes appreciably brighter.

>So Scott did everything you asked, and had enough spare parts lying around to make sure you wouldn’t be completely without juice. You hope he’ll swing by before he leaves, if he hasn’t already, so you could thank him.

>”Ah, that’s much better!” you hear Mike’s voice call behind you as he ascends the ladder and pokes his head in.

“So where are we staying?”

>”There’s a sleeper car on the siding just outside. Once you leave the door on the side over here it’s straight ahead, can’t miss it. It sounds like we’ll have it to ourselves tonight.”

“Great. We’ll head there as soon as-“

>”WHAT?!”

>Both your gaze and Mike’s snaps to the other side of the cab, where Twilight backs into the view from down the corridor.

>”It shouldn’t take long! I just need to recharge it and we can head back no problems!” she pleads.

>”No, I didn’t sign up for this! You knew I don’t know teleport magic! I trusted you to get me out of there!” Vinyl now stalks into view, her advance forcing Twilight further back. The way she held her head and neck, her ears pointed firmly back, and her hunched posture brought to mind an attack dog.

>You hope this won’t turn into a brawl in the cramped cabin.

>”I’m sorry, but I can get us back. I just need time! If you wouldn’t make such a fuss in front of our-“

>”Well excuse me, Princess,” Vinyl spat the title as if a vile curse, “But I feel I have the right to be pretty-“

”Vinyl Scratch!”

>You bark her name in your Engineer Voice, a bellow that can be heard over noisy machinery and excessive speeds and echo up and down boarding platforms.

>The unicorn flinches visibly, but when she turns to face you she regains her composure. She puts her glasses up and fixes her furious stare on you.

“I think we’d all be much more civil if we were comfortable. We’ll show you to where we’ll be staying the night.”

>You reach over to where Twilight had left the canteen, and toss it at your angry guest.

“Catch. Drink.”

>Instead of obeying, Vinyl watches the canteen sail through the air and clang to the deck in front of her. She looks back up at you with her unsettling red eyes, and slowly the canteen levitates to her mouth.

“Right, let’s get moving.”

>When you reach over to the controls and drop the pantograph again, and the cab plunges back into darkness. You turn and leave through the door and slide down the short ladder. Your boots kick up a cloud of dust when they impact the packed dirt below.

>When you step back, Vinyl pokes her head out the door and looks down at the drop. With a scoff she leaps out, landing on all fours just in front of you with the canteen still held in her magical grip.

>Twilight follows behind her, much more nervously. She is able to glide out just fine, however.

>Mike brings up the rear, closing the door behind him. “Alright, this way,” he waves you three over and disappears around the locomotive.

>The two ponies follow him away, and you bring up the rear. You turn back at the side door, looking at Deuce. In the dark, only the five gold stripes can be seen over the silhouette, along with a faint red suggestion of the PRR keystone logo.

>Slowly, quietly, you close the door behind you, as if trying not to wake someone enjoying sleep.

>Despite the twilight gloom you find the sleeper car easily.

>Mike and the ponies are already climbing inside the well-lit interior; the car is connected to a cable that runs off into the evening darkness.

>When you reach the door, you’re relieved to hear the sound of music instead of fighting.

>The interior is filled with bunk beds, save for a break in the middle with a table on each side of the center isle with some chairs. On one of these tables sits a radio, with Mike and Vinyl on either side of it. Vinyl’s attention is focused on the device, though her ears and posture show she’s still quite cross. On the other is a lamp, currently unlit.

>Twilight has perched herself on the top bunk behind them. You’re not sure if it’s by preference or to get herself out of striking distance of the angry unicorn. Maybe it’s some subconscious habit; you have no idea how a winged horse would behave.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, we have some business to discuss first. Twilight, how long do you think it’ll be before we get a window to send you two home?” [spoiler] [/spoiler] >You pull a third chair up to the table.

>”Three weeks minimum,” she says curtly. Vinyl tears her attention away from the radio to fix her with a hard glare, but says nothing.

>You rub your chin in thought. Three weeks was more than enough to get a new transformer in place. You didn’t have to worry about losing your power source, at least.

“Well as long as you’re here, I hope you don’t mind working. A friend of mine has rebuilt the generator, it should be a bit easier to use and will definitely give us more power. I’ll provide you with a portion of my own pay so you’re compensated for your efforts. When we get to New York I’ll see what I can do to provide lodging. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning me promptly and at great sacrifice.”

>”You can’t sideline the train? Take a break? If your friend knows it’s broken wouldn’t they want to leave it aside until it’s fixed?” Twilight asks from the bunk above.

“Well… if this happened a couple years ago, that’d be exactly what would happen. But now we need all engines on the lines, no exceptions. Deuce may be broken but she can still run, and that’s all that counts. As long as she can haul I’m not going to anywhere but on the rails, even if I was given the opportunity to do otherwise. It’s all I can do to help the boys overseas, and we have a war to win.”

>”A war?!” Twilight bolts upright in shock, and for a moment you’re worried her horn will put a hole in the ceiling.

“Yeah, a war. We’re looking to one side of the world to pummel the Fuehrer into submission, and then we’re going to look the other way and do it to the Japs. Hitler’s going to crap himself when a million men knock on his door with the American flag in their hands and Japan will be nothing but an unsightly stain off the coast of Asia when we’re through.”

>By this point, Twilight’s gone very pale. A silence follows during which even the music stops. “A million…”

>A passion ignites itself in Twilight’s eyes as she turns on you. “You’re sending them all to their deaths! War is never the right answer, you just take all your problems and make it worse! What are you even fighting over? Land, power? Why can’t you just get along with everyone, you can get so much more done if you just cooperate instead of… exploding petty squabbles into a slaughter!”

>You’re about to answer when a familiar voice issues from the radio.

>”My friends…”

 “Here, why don’t you take it from the President himself? He’s a better wordsmith than I am.”

>Your voice drowned out the first part of the speech, but you reach over and crank the volume all the way up.

>Twilight’s glare doesn’t lessen, but at least now it’s pointed at the radio.

>”The story of Rome goes back to the time of the foundations of our civilization. We can still see there monuments of the time when Rome and the Romans controlled the whole of the then known world. That, too, is significant, for the United Nations are determined that in the future no one city and no one race will be able to control the whole of the world.”

“We’re not fighting over any… petty squabble. It’s a fight against the tyranny of a monster, and we’ll be damned to Hell before we let our friends be crushed by this power-hungry freak, Twilight. “

>”…is assured by the armies of the United Nations. It is also significant that Rome has been liberated by the armed forces of many nations. The American and British armies -- who bore the chief burdens of battle -- found at their sides our own North American neighbors, the gallant Canadians. The fighting New Zealanders from the far South Pacific, the courageous French and the French Moroccans, the South Africans, the Poles and the East Indians -- all of them fought with us on the bloody approaches to the city of Rome.”

“Like you said, we can get so much more done if we cooperate, and here, cooperation is the only way to survive.”

>Twilight doesn’t respond, still focused entirely on the radio. You decide to leave the job of convincing her entirely in Roosevelt’s able hands.

>Vinyl on the other hand seems to have lost interest, and gets up to walk to the far corner of the car. Grabbing several pillows on the way over, she drops herself onto a bed and arranged them around her head to block out the radio.

>”In Italy the people had lived so long under the corrupt rule of Mussolini that, in spite of the tinsel at the top -- you have seen the pictures of him -- their economic condition had grown steadily worse. Our troops have found starvation, malnutrition, disease, a deteriorating education and lowered public health -- all by-products of the Fascist misrule.”

>Twilight’s expression changes subtly when FDR speaks of the consequences of Mussolini’s rule. It becomes more subdued, strained.

>You watch Twilight’s face as Roosevelt skillfully summarizes the history of Italy, framed within the importance of making sure Italy remains a free country. The speech, though celebrating military victory, is one of diversity and acceptance, ultimately of harmony and hope.

>”This, I think, is an example of the efficiency of your machinery of war. The magnificent ability and energy of the American people in growing the crops, building the merchant ships, in making and collecting the cargoes…”

>”That’s us!” Mike points out.

>”…and thinking ahead to meet emergencies -- all this spells, I think, an amazing efficiency on the part of our armed forces, all the various agencies working with them, and American industry and labor as a whole.”

>The speech wraps up with thanks to the generals involved, listing each one and their position in the operation as a whole. It ends on a prayer, asking for protection for all the soldiers at war.

>You turn the radio off in the silence that follows. Twilight’s expression is must softer than before. You can hear Vinyl shifting across the car, but it doesn’t distract Twilight from her thoughts.

>”So many different peoples mentioned… they’re all humans?”

“There are a lot of countries in the world, Twilight. But in this case, we’re united against oppression. I’d like to think that the diversity of the world is a great strength, even if it sometimes leads to these dark times.”

>Twilight falls silent for another minute before coming to a decision. “Fine, we’ll help. Only to end the suffering of those under this… ‘Fascist rule’. Back home, before my time, was an evil ruler named Sombra who enslaved his whole nation. I don’t want to have to see that first-hand as long as I live.” She says softly.

>”As long as we get paid,” comes Vinyl’s harsher voice from the corner.

“Of course. Now, we’ll have to be up early tomorrow if…”

>You fall silent as something occurs to you. If you’re trying to keep the ponies hidden, it would probably be easier if you actually spent the night in your own locomotive.

“On second thought, let’s take the bedding we’ll want to use. We’ll sleep in the engine tonight, so we don’t have to worry about anyone finding out about you two.”

>”Why do we need to stay hidden?” Twilight asks as she jumps down and starts gathering up bedsheets and pillows. “Are we not welcome here? What other races are there on Earth besides humans?”

>You pause, mattress in your hands, as you consider the question. “Well, really it’s just us, but race is a very complicated question here. Not really something to go into right now. Suffice to say I don’t think you’ll receive the warm reception you think you might, royalty or otherwise.”

>Twilight seems to accept the answer, and returns to gathering bedding. Vinyl finally rejoins the group with her large mess of pilfered pillows, while you and Mike leave the car with a mattress under each arm and the lamp in your hand.

>The four of you load everything into the train with some difficulty, but once inside setting it down wasn’t too hard.

>The dynamo is significantly shorter than the transformer was, leaving enough room on either end of it for a mattress for each pony.

>Vinyl skulked to the back of the compartment and put hers against the back wall, and Twilight laid hers just inside the compartment door.

>Mike dropped his in the rear cab hall, while you placed yours on the other side of the door from Twilight.

>Considering the early start you’d need tomorrow, the four of your resolved to sleep as soon as you were settled, and despite the early hour none of you found any trouble.