On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

He drives a cart

In such a land...

Yu. Moritz

— Stop running around, — Valentine muttered. He decided to spend a sip of water brushing his teeth. Found some kind of white layer, kind of chalk. He ate it and chewed it off. The chalk was with bitter salt, but tolerable. The pony rummaged in a pile of junk and now held its conditional «hoof» tube. Guess what. Valentine felt like a fool again. An hour later, the things were somehow collected and put on a cart. The pony also had saddlebags, but they turned out to be torn. There were also some sewing supplies yesterday, but they could not be found. After looking at the sorrowfully sighing quadruped, Belkin spat out the remains of the chalk and went to look for boxes. — I have a setback! — Pony peered along the wide wash that stretched beyond the horizon. — It is necessary to return! The food is devoured by changelings! The water has run out! — How far is the next town? — Days? Miles? — The pony was going to get into her cart and Valentine was distracted. — Two days to go! No well on the way! — There’s water, but not much. We’ll go. You know the way? — One road is here! — The pony pointed to the natural «highway».

***

They changed. This fake desert did not kill with the frenzied heat of the day, there was a slight pull from the far eastern mountains, if not coolness, then humidity. There were always whitish patches of salt marshes and strange patterns on the dunes. «Are tornadoes here all the time?» — Thought Valentin. He was pulling the cart, but he didn't really push back. — What's your name? — A call? I don't understand... ah! My name is Light Sand! — Light sand? And I'm Valentine. Valentin Belkin. — Do you belong to the squirrel family? — Do you look like sand? Sandy… Pony snorted and adjusted her stupid hat made of what looked like a tarp. The strings were dangling, and the hat was held on his head by some kind of magic. «It seems that he is not going to be depressed and suicidal», — Thought Valentin. He didn't like the look on the pony's face. If I were a poet, I would say that in the eyes of a horse, pain turns into barely smoldering hatred. — And what did you forget in the desert? — I am... looking for antiquities, — Pony looked away. — For the Princess Museum. — An archaeologist? — Yes! — Well, well... Archaeologists do not walk alone, archaeologists have not only shovels, but also brushes, from healthy brooms to very small ones. Archaeologists are fencing off the excavation site and dragging a mountain of reference literature with them, since there are no computers here. And, again, archaeologists do not go alone, they always have a lot of people with them, from guides and guards to support staff. Valentine did not say all this. — How do you know Russian? — What? Sorry… — My tongue. — Ah! The old speech of Stallongrad! I can understand... work... reading a lot is my necessity! — Can you teach me your language? — Uh-uh… It will take a lot of time! Unicorn... a skilled unicorn has the knowledge to teach. — Magic, what is it? — Valentine squinted. — Yes! Only… Belkin stopped, carefully lowered the shafts of the cart onto the sand. He looked at the pony. — Finish it. — Excuse me? — Keep talking. What's wrong with this magic? — Nothing, — Pony turned away and said somewhere in the dunes. — Don't ask for a unicorn… No need. They walked in silence for a while longer. The desert of the Badlands, as Valentin called it for himself, was located in a certain basin of natural origin. However, with this magic, you can't be sure of anything. Or maybe a trace from a prehistoric meteorite. So, on almost all sides, in every sense, this hole was surrounded by some kind of walls. There's really a hole in the ball. And there was a passage on the horizon from the north side. Just a light area in a yellow-brown stripe. Perhaps Valentine was walking along the bed of a dried-up river. — What is Stallongrad? — The allusions were haunting. — It was a big city. The city was the ruler... of the land that was around. Only the earth pony. — And the unicorns? — They didn't want to… Magic is power. Then they came, but not enough, — Pony looked around furtively. — And the pegasus didn't want to. The earth pony lived. By themselves. — Separatism? — What? — Light Sand didn't know that word. — Did they say that this is their land? — Yes! — Pony nodded, but immediately refuted herself. — No! They have gone far away, where there is no Equestria. — And what's the problem? Gone and gone… — Celestia didn't want to let go. I was afraid that people started running away from her. Because of my sister. — And what’s next? — Valentine guessed that he was about to hear some stained and glittered abomination. — War? — No! — Sand shook her head and straightened the slipped hat. — The princess wanted to fight, but changed her mind. Bought the rulers. They... tricked the earth ponies. — Those earth ponies? — All the earthlings! — The horse screamed. — Everyone! All-all-all! They have become angry, greedy and lazy! And the pegasi said that everyone is like that! Everywhere! And the unicorns said that if there is no magic, then a pony is not a pony! Not exactly a pony! They can't study! We just have to do what the unicorn says! Or pegasus! They've ruined my people! I hate it! I hate everyone! Deception! Only deception! Even joy is a deception! Celestia makes you happy! You don't want to, but it's all the same! And you can't do that! Everything was taken away! The joy was taken away! Sadness has been taken away! Even the dreams were taken away! There are worse robbers than princesses! — Quiet, quiet, — Valentin lowered the shafts, sat down on the sand in front of pony and pulled her to him. — Don't shout like that. Just cry. And tell me. «That's all it will turn out. Is she going to try to break my neck now, or did she really not attack? By the way, why are their friends silent? How long have I been here?» After squirming on Belkin's lap and sobbing, pony told him. Celestia was frightened by the ruthless radiance of Stalliongrad. His conscious and logically verified honest cruelty. Its technical innovations. And she destroyed the dream of power for everyone, replacing it with the dream of everyday happiness. Comfort, coziness and the illusion of satiety have defeated the desire to overcome oneself and nature. The ponies stopped looking at the sky, figuratively speaking. No, stupidity in Stalliongrad was enough not only for themselves, but also for another Equestria with Yak-yakistan in addition, but, having got into the evil of trampling on individuality, they almost overcame another, «natural» evil, which seemed to be something so familiar that the disappearance of it was perceived as the collapse of the world. Every living creature absorbs, multiplies and does not allow others to multiply and just live. It's natural. But this is evil when it comes to intelligent beings. And such evil is driven into the framework of laws, somehow directed and regulated, they try to remove the consequences, not knowing when it will spill out again with another attempt by one group of reasonable people to do themselves well due to the fact that others will be very bad. The residents of Stalliongrad saw a way of liberation. But the method required becoming not quite a pony. And not quite alive. The method killed those little joys that gave pony in the old and dark times the strength to live another day. «I know where something like this happened», — Valentine thought. But, to be honest, the ponies here were not as inventive as people. The horses did not think of an analogue of what happened even earlier, in Paraguay. And it is unlikely that their public «faces», like, just as an assumption, could raise the question of the admissibility of «euthanasia» for an entire nation, as it was on Earth a little later. And they would hardly embody the idea right away. But evil was brewing inside the country. «The hair of your gold, Gretchen. The hair of your ashes, Rachel». Valentine, if we discard all decency in terms, fucked up from analogies, listening to pony. She didn't say a lot of things, some things were perceived as crooked and clumsy propaganda, some as embellishment of disgusting and tragic events, and some simply pointed a finger at similar things in earth's history. Neither pegasi nor unicorns saw Earth ponies as equals in their position. In ancient times, this turned into a period of sluggish war for lands inhabited by just «earthly» horses, which once flared up so that as a result of the action of a very special magic of spilled blood, a certain spirit of discord materialized, as if sewn from the body parts of the dead of different races. The spirit has been running amok so far, but somehow without a spark, more hooliganism in small things than showing real chaos, leaving behind the final order of a dead, cooling world. Valentine even made a face, but pony didn't notice. By the time the second princess, Luna, had already been archived for several hundred years in the form of its own projection on the ethereal body of the moon (the pony said this in a whisper and trembling, as if giving away some secret), the earth horses decided that they could no longer tolerate it. Migration has begun. Celestia couldn't think of anything better than to try to stop the process by force. It didn't work out very well, but it contributed to some rapprochement between the winged and horned through the game «Bring back the fugitive». Stalliongrad was formed some miserable two hundred years before the return of Luna, and thirty years later Celestia received the result of more than half a century of «work» to bribe and bewitch senior officials of a neighboring state. The result turned out to be so disgusting that the Solar Princess almost seriously considered giving up power over what she had created. The thought «I did this for my ponies» didn't help. And for yourself? And they're just living trash to you? Then why were you afraid of them? Fear of the trash can? But you made many of them yourself using a trash can! Besides, Selka finally broke some very important magic balalaika. — And what's next? — And then our dearest ruler lies as she breathes, — Sandy sobbed again, — That everyone has their own magic.. For pegasi, this is the magic of flight, for unicorns, too, everything is clear, they have a horn, and for us, earth pony, this is the magic of physical strength, perseverance in work and all that sort of thing... The fact that strength comes from work, when you tear yourself in the field or on a construction site, does not occur to her! Ah, Twilight Sparkle raised the house! Ah, she fixed some kind of magic... well, something unimportant! Did she draw the house? Have you prepared the materials? No! Did she count the numbers so that the house wouldn't fall into itself? No! It doesn't mean anything! — But all glory to her, — Valentine finished, noting that Light Sand was getting better at speaking his horse version of Russian. — Yes! They don't have an earth pony just like that! Let them dig the ground! After all, they can't do anything else! They can't do magic! They can't fly! They can't build a state! But we can! Valentin, as a programmer, understood the ephemerality of the results of his own work, existing only on storage devices. Quite a lot of hard work. He understood how easy it was to trample on someone's achievements. And immediately after that, to justify the inevitability and «necessity» of the death of something or someone. Somehow, all of a sudden, there was a smell of everything that supported his calm misanthropy. Nothing changes. Nowhere. Sandy's angry crying was proof of that. Although, she was probably exaggerating. The pony have not yet thought to pass off as kindness the desire for sophisticated cruelty, as it often occurred to various «enlightened» and overshadowed even the horror of obscurantism, ignorance and religious savagery. However, the ponies have already chosen the «right» road. «Miracles» and various «discoveries» are already ahead of them on this path. Not yet, but already. — They say Stalliongrad is back somewhere, — Pony rubbed against Valentine's cheek. — Flying ships have been seen many times on the eastern border above the sea. Zeppelins. High, high, pegasus can not fly in any way. There is little air. Pegasi come with very long wings, they can lift themselves high. Altitude… And they fly fast up there. But the ship is very fast. Very. They never come close. — Is that the only sign? — No. The griffins became wary of the ponies. And very angry now. Fright. And there are different things on sale. But not enough. It is clear that the unicorn did not do it. Let them laugh… — And what about Celestia? — I think she's afraid. Magic… Um... is there a locus? — Is magic local? Is there no witchcraft abroad? — Yes! No! — Sandy got up and shook herself like a dog. — There is no attribute. The alicorn becomes like a unicorn, only very strong. Or not so much. «All legs have served, horse, pancake!» — Flashed in Belkin’s head when he also decided to rise. The collar of the overalls is wet. — Shall we go? — Valentine took a step toward the cart. — Let's just take a sip of water. — It's my turn, — Pony said dejectedly, glancing at the cart. Yes. It's her turn. — Light? — Sandy. Don't say «Light». Don't like. — Good. Question, — Valentin smiled unkindly. — Who invented flying ships? — Which ones? Carts? Unicorns have been invented. And the zeppelins are one of the earth ponies. A long time ago. They were sluggish and often burned. — And the locomotives? — Earth ponies too. A long time ago. There were others in Stalliongrad, with a turning circle inside. Fast ones. There are no such pony now. Now there's nothing but dung magic!

***

— My queen! — Well? — Chrysalis turned around. As always, ironically angry and dissatisfied with the surrounding reality. — Footprints! It has been trampled so that the wind has not yet been able to cover it! — That's it? I can see that for myself — A large and lanky black winged and horned pony with a disheveled turquoise mane and perforated legs broke away from the map. — Who went where? Can we catch up? — Magic shows one pony. On the way to Dodge City, — The young changeling swallowed convulsively. — And all… — And the traces, like from the platoon of the Guard of the Solstice? And the pony, without any magical background, was walking next to her cart? And then who got involved? And with such a strange gait, as if running on two paws? — Your Majesty! — It was scary to look at the shifter, he turned so pale that he turned from almost black to gray-brown. — But the spell didn't find anyone alive, bigger than scorpions! — Yeah, — The queen tilted her head and blew a strand of mane out of her eyes, — There are no survivors. Have you been looking for the dead? — The dead? — The queen's interlocutor shuddered. — The very ones! I have to do everything myself! Pfft! — Chrysalis squinted at the indelible strand and lit a crooked horn. — Goddamn it, will someone bring me a rubber band for my mane or not?! The changeling squeaked and disappeared with minor visual effects in the form of raised dust. And they lied that not even all unicorns can teleport! — Sooo! — The black chitinous horse shoved a card at someone and walked in a circle. — And where? — My queen, — The guard came up. — Sorry to interrupt... — What?! — Chrysalis went off. — Gunpowder. The smell is extremely faint. — Don't bother, then we'll look for your gunners. She didn’t even watch the guard bow. She sees these formal nods and squats every day! The horn sparkled, and sand flew up. — Get it, inspect it, report it! — the queen of all ordered (not all anymore, Thorax, you brute!) shifters. — What is it about them? — Someone from the entourage whispered. — Like a cannon! Would a bullet do that? Chrysalis moved her head and the conversations died down. A guard came up on three legs. On the way, he took the elastic band from the young «specialist», put it on the hoof, without thinking out where to put it, and bowed briefly, handing the objects «stuck» to the hoof to his queen. — Casings, like from a legionary rifle. But the material is strange. — I see, — Chrysalis was examining tubes made of an unknown material. The material crumbled under the magical gaze, smelled noticeably burnt, but without a sulfurous odor. — That's the cause of death. Give me the gum. She gathered her mane into a «pony tail» with her front legs, elegantly rearing up and even walking on her hind legs to the corpses dug out of the sand. — Who are they? — The royal standing on her hind legs was straightening her hair with her forelegs, and even holding the found casings with telekinesis, so she pointed at the corpses with a lazy movement of the hoof of her hind leg. It was as if she was pushing a soccer ball aside. — Salt Wind, nicknamed Stinky and Sly Fragrance. A wanted thief and a deserter. Also wanted. — Was there anything assigned for information about them or their capture? — Ten high purity magic crystals or their value in Equestrian bits! — The diggers suggested, licking their lips in their minds. — In case of detection of the murderer, pay half of the amount to him or her, and transfer the other half to my personal needs, — Chrysalis spoiled a possible holiday. — And be careful there! Casings… How is it that there are two of them at once? — A revolver gun, my queen? — The guard suggested. — A fool? Where did it come from? The Night Watch has all these things! Although... Lunkin's handwriting is: to dig it up quietly. And the bullets are probably enchanted. Selka only mocks her subjects a lot, she wouldn't have thought of such a minotaur shit in a thousand years… Chrysalis didn't like what was happening. Unhealthy movements around the Badlands wasteland, and even a strange magical background... — What were these, — The shifter queen nodded at the corpses and conjured a barrier against the stench, — Doing here? Are there any versions? — They were not far from the suburbs of Dodge City, my queen! — The guard said. — The day of the flight, if you don't rush and be careful! And the locals won't lift a pitchfork! It's the perfect place, otherwise you can't hide in the fields. — Then, my dear Brutus Force, what kind of Discord was the local doing here? She wasn't abducted from the town with a cart, was she? — Looking for something? — What is it exactly? — I can't know, my queen! — Force «turned on the fool». — Yeah, it's not about breaking locks, you have to think about it! — Chrysalis sneered. — Okay, let's move to the aisle. As soon as we get there, order someone to be selected from your blockheads faster, let them walk in a strange guise to the city, buy coal and get water. We will not shine a bell, or someone Sun-ass in a moment to report that she steamships are traveling on the moors.

***

— Belkin, answer me! — I'm in touch, — Valentine said, glancing at the pony and suspecting exactly what she would think. Yes, she'll think you have voices in your head, Valik. — We're ready to get you out! Describe the situation. — Contact with the local. I am thirty to forty kilometers from the initial point! The landscape is an extended cliff, sedimentary rocks plus sand. There was some whispering on the other side. — Belkin, can you tell the aborigine to take care of your things and do something else? Otherwise, it's really time for you! No matter how you die… — That's her. Uh-huh... didn't you get it? Pancake… Pony looked at belkops and wondered if she should run away from the madman or wait a bit. The madman sighed and turned to Light Sand. — Sandy… I have to get back. Will you walk to the city alone? — I'll get there. What about you? Back to the Badlands? — No. And this… Are there any secluded but spacious places in the city? — I'm renting a house. The family moved somewhere in the direction of Van Hoover, — Sandy looked at the stranger carefully. — It's very inexpensive, and I have to look after the house as part of the payment. The city council spat manure, but allowed it. But only for six months.  Valentine was silent. — The backyard. There used to be an old barn there, but they ordered it to be demolished. — It will do, — Belkin sighed once more. — Then please: Hide my things, and leave the skull in the backyard. You can bury it, but not deep. — What kind of skull? — Sandy froze. — I don't know, but I can guess. And I apologize for the unpleasant sight. Pony watched as the strange creature kicked off its shoes, overalls (the tail almost got tangled), the same knife, a flask, a surgically shiny folding thing and a gun on one paw flew over it. «Still, stallion», an inappropriate thought was born in pony's head. And «still, stallion» went five jumps away and said he was ready. Sandy wanted to say something rude, but an invisible light fused the soil into a ring, and the stranger disappeared. A blackened skull fell into the center of the circle with the sound of a thin-walled burnt pot, breaking. «Fuck your princess!» — Came Sandy's Stalliongrad expletive.

***

Light Sand wasn't the worst pony. Honest, anyway. She entered Dodge City's «station» square, unhitched herself from the cart, shifted, flexing her shoulders. She put some of her belongings in those terrible green boxes that hung on her sides instead of saddlebags torn by changelings. The stranger's strange instrument hung around his neck on a string, like a talisman or an ornament. A wooden bucket was suspended from the back of the cart, expanding to the bottom, full of various debris, from stones to dry bones and shells of desert inhabitants. The bucket smelled. And the double bottom hid the pistol, which was shifted with rags. Specifically for this, I dripped fuel from the lamp onto the rags and waited until it was absorbed. — Elements! — A young unicorn of unnatural purple color in a rumpled brown coat jumped up with bulging eyes, seen a couple of times in the city council. — The Guardians of the Elements are arriving! Princess Sparkle herself is with them! Get your cart away! — Let me catch my breath, bustler. But «frock coat» did not let up, demanded not to disgrace the city, complained that there were unwashed junk dealers here… Sandy silently lifted the shafts and peered into the wide loop. I thought that they used to use a yoke that looked like a huge bent wooden horseshoe. Progress is evident, your Celestia by the leg! «I didn't really want to». A train whistled in the distance.

***

«Will they be celebrating until midnight? The third day they are playing tricks!» — The earthly pony Light Sand exhaled into a glass of water. The oblong tablets were bitter. And this strange scabies in the support surface of the hoofs... The doctor says it's from nerves. And the city rejoiced at the arrival of the Guardians of the Elements. Sandy should have been glad she was alive. — Why don't you want to report to the Guard? After all, the one who did it... — He's dead. And there will be questions about what I was doing in Badlands. And why I came to you, Doctor. — But it's my must to help… — So help me. If I had died, it would have been just a tragedy. But if they find those shifters, it will be a suspicion of murder. Especially considering the «political situation». — Holy Celestia! Yes, the appearance of such bandits!.. What if… — Not anymore. Let no one find out. Everyone will be calmer. And you too. You don't have to report all suspicious injuries, do you? — No, but... I'm sorry to remind you of this, but you were also raped! — There are five or two changelings in the city. Do you want to incite the townspeople to riots in the presence of representatives of the Princesses? Well, well... however, the prison doctor lives in every way better than ordinary convicts. By the way, good pills. — I know. Take two a day for a week, then one a week. Don't get carried away. And what else did you do to stop the bleeding there? — Burnt water. Tight bandage. Sandy put the shaky glass on the table, trying to slip out. The peculiarity of the cover and the «pattern» on the hoof allowed the pony to take and hold objects almost without the help of an additional finger. In the Southern Desert, it seemed, there were lizards that were able to crawl on a smooth wall. The same ability that doesn't have a bit of magic in it. Ponies, of course, could not run along a vertical wall, except for some Daring Doo, who helped herself with her wings, but the book about her adventures stuck to the hoof reliably. Take a deep breath, hold your breath and exhale slowly. And again. Good pills. Sandy had already missed a reception once because of these unscheduled parties, when you couldn't buy elementary cheap herbal bread, everyone was drunk, and at night she found herself sitting on the floor in the pantry, looking at a cheap crystal light bulb covered with flies and pressing the blade of a terrible serrated knife to the side of her throat. «That's how it's going to end, Sandy», — Pony thought then. But at the edge of her consciousness, the thought was beating that it would end only for her, for Light Sand, the «black» techno-archeologist. And nothing will end for the townspeople bouncing with joy, for the vile shifters, for a century of turning nuts in the same steam locomotives of railway workers, for the Guards… And for Celestia, who does not understand that for those drowning in a swamp, the taste of water is not important. And for Luna, who considers herself the sole mistress of pony dreams. «Everything will be taken away, even your ability to be aware of yourself», — He once said to someone unknown (desert centipedes?) Valentine. He didn't think Sandy would hear. «Why did you save me?» — Sandy whispered somewhere on the blade. Great. Talking to a knife in the pantry. The pony grinned at the memories. Bitterly, as if still feeling the taste of pills on the tongue. Everything, sleep-sleep-sleep! In the bathroom (a copper hybrid of a tub and a trough on griffin paws, in which you can only sit, it's still better than just a slanting watering can of the shower), Sandy washed her face and brushed her teeth. A young filly with gray-yellow fur and for some reason a blue-green mane, which seemed to be very faded, looked out of the mirror, smeared with toothpaste. She washed her face, rocking her ass and leaning the edge of her rib cage on the edge of an old sink. She didn't want to sit on the floor. The scar on her leg itched. «I'm alive», — Sandy spat into the drain hole. Yes. She's alive. But those shifters didn't. «May you all die of some kind of insect infection».