On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

All right, I'll try to save this three-time life that no one needs!

One wonderful doctor.

— Belkin, you'll have to dive back in, — Sergey Petrovich says it as if he himself is being forced to climb into the capsule. — No, whatever, — Valentin shook his head. — First, rest and recovery. And then you can dive in. — Fuck... you'll have a rest! A change of activity! — And what will I have to do? Not to cut down the forest? — As an option! — Petrovich is very angry, but he is glad that the «infiltrator» stipulates the conditions for the best performance of duties, and does not refuse. Brooks no objections, as a military man or so? Unlikely. Rather, «deadlines are running out». «They're getting their shit together», — Thought Belkin. And he was right. — Belkin, we have this crap with, as you said, a cerebral wave going on. What were you doing there? — Petrovich said it like that, as if Valentin was pouring local booze over there. And then he woke up with his pants off and a horse on a pile of junk in someone's barn. — Persuaded a local creature to teach me the language. — Well done. It's a fucking achievement. I'm serious, — Sergey Petrovich sighed. — But that's not enough. It will help us a lot, this is your future knowledge of equine, but, again, we need something else. — Possible causes of the wave? — The «infiltrator» frowned. There has been no progress so far. — Yes. Valentine also grimaced. He made a face. — How many days can you give me? — No more than a week. In general, count on five days. By the way, how do you plan to collect data? — Either the authorities are testing Belkin for professional competence, or... they don't have another «wounded in the head», one horseradish. — In semi-active mode. I collect rumors without asking. Observation. I'll try to travel around this Ponyland. — And where will you get the money from? — He said so, as if he knew that there was no military communism of the country in the ring of interventionists, and it was money, not documents, that was needed. — The locals have some kind of simplified economic relations. No licenses, no passport control. You can get a part-time job and save up for a train ticket. — Are you going to cook there for a month? And so we feed them intravenously. — Well... and if you get a job at the depot? Someone is constantly driving, steam locomotives wear out on flights, and there will not be many people willing to take the position of «captain of wrenches». These horses are squeamish, it seemed to me. — Does it seem like anything? — Petrovich chuckled. — Cross yourself. — The main thing is that you don't have to say the last rites. — And that's what we need you for! Surprised? Listen and don't try to tell anyone disheveled. Firstly, they won't believe you, and secondly, let's go together for disclosure. — Do I need to know this? — «Psychonaut» adhered to the cautious relations to state secrets. — It is necessary! In short, the first suspicions that everything is going on, forgive the old man, shit, we have had for a long time. And some smart guy like you, but in the service, drew a program that surfs the Internet and searches for different events. And all sorts of political crap, if combined with cartoons and some films you know, has given a graph correlating with cases of sabotage and unexplained mistakes in the rocket and space industry. And there is also a correlation with «implicit» surveys of the population in relation to space programs. And again, there is a correlation with an increase in negative moods. Even if a student of some «college» who is indifferent to space has always had an attitude from the series «oh, cool, probably», then during these «coincidences» the mannered «hee-hee, they have to shit in a tube there» prevails. — You're telling me the «Space Madness» from SCP... Maybe it would be better to pay attention to the antics of our «overseas friends»? — Valentine chuckled. — Don't laugh at me! Don't laugh! We monitor our «friends» and take countermeasures, but there is something else! — Petrovich looked gloatingly at the submerged man. — And we look through the Internet nonsense and keep it under control. Didn't you think that some of the things that are fundamentally possible from the point of view of science are «thrown in» there? So think about it. The information is open, and the explanations to it are secret. — It's kind of serious. I thought we were investigating phenomena that would be useful for quenching mass psychoses and partially saving messages from the right people who fell into a coma... — To be honest, Valentin somehow did not believe it. They'll lie. — One does not interfere with the other. — Good. But a week will definitely be needed. I will need to study the structure of steam locomotives thoroughly. Moreover, not only theory, but also practical questions, such as what are the seals in the cylinders made of. — No question, we'll take you on an excursion to the railway museum. Are you sure they'll take you to the depot? You'll be like a guest worker there. «Uh-uh, nachaynika!» and nothing more, — Petrovich allowed himself a hint of a smile. — Of course, it is impossible to learn a language by yourself in a day. But there is magic suitable for this. And even if it hadn't been... — You mean they copied the contents of your head? So you can already be put in an airtight chamber with built-in flamethrowers? Okay, we'll arrange it... — Not exactly like that. It's a kind of forced memorization. Visualization of writing, meaningful image, how to pronounce... I should have said marker words or anchor words in response. That pony, most likely, can now speak Russian at least. If he's not dead. He looked pale. — Belkin, I will definitely shoot you... Valentine sighed. — Do I understand correctly that they can't get into our world in any way? At most, to spy on something remembered by someone from the «amazed»? — Let's say. Not even to peek, but to guess by implicit signs. It is no easier than to reconstruct events from natural traces. Generally unsolvable tasks. — Can they try to buy us with something? I think they have nothing to do. — We are afraid that they will be able to create the illusion of pain or stimulate the pleasure center. So that we act in the best way for them. For them, not for myself. Don't forget, for us, these ponies are just a kind of conglomerate of psychic parasites. — That would be wonderful. But, — Valentin grimaced, — There is a suspicion that their world is a reflection of ours. Like a trace in time, or something... I can't explain this feeling. In short, it's kind of overly caramel, like a lure for langoliers. And also, I broke their pony crystal there to detect magic. Just looked at him, and that's it. There was a magical piece of jewelry, but it became a semi-precious piece of glass. — Let our «theorists» have a headache about this. Preferably, not because of these «cerebral waves» of yours, but on business. And, by the way or not, we have delivered your chosen one to you, do not be afraid. Snegova Marina Romanovna, right?

***

They lay sleepy and blissful. — Belkin... — What? — Fuck it! — Maryska nudged with her elbow. — I'm actually worried! All goodness is gone. That's an ill-mannered lynx! — And what scared you so much? — It's nothing special. Well, a car with interesting numbers drove up, some little men in shoulder straps and without got out of it, they show terrible «crusts»... They are being taken to no one knows where... I thought they were kidnapping me, they wanted to sell me to a foreign brothel! But no! They're ringing my cell phone, my stepfather is already standing at attention there... Did you call your own people? — What am I going to tell them? «Hi, I'm fine, I found a part-time job», and that's all you can say? — Can you give them a hint what you're doing there, and why should I help you around the house? — Nothing that will end badly for everyone. At least for the country. The fact that, in theory, it will end badly for me if we don't stop in time. Those for which they promised examinations and drugs that cost obscene money. So far, nothing that I might be ashamed of right now. — Are you hacking? Or is he engaged in industrial espionage? — No. Rather, an unauthorized side injection of technology is planned somewhere. — Why? — To change the political situation a little. Just a little bit. Without coups and civil wars. Create trends, nothing more. — Aren't you late? — They shouldn't. In general, let's hit obscurantism, propaganda and total surveillance with a double purpose! — Hey, prince Kropotkin... didn't you think that you might have been caught on your political leanings? — No, Bobcat, I was caught in one unique case of the effects of treatment. I can't say more than that. — Don't tell me. Get some sleep. I'll feel like it again in the morning. By the way, what are your plans for... today? — Steam locomotives. As in the joke. It's all steam locomotives.

***

They showed the Elements. After that, Twilight conjured an invisible dome designed to protect against magical inversions. It was assumed that as long as the impact would corrode the magic of the dome, everything would end. Without the Elements, such a thing could not be conjured by a young alicorn. Rarity cast a general healing spell on Fluttershy and Rainbow. She couldn't do more. There was still something wrong with Dash's eyes. Flatty couldn't sleep. She screamed and jumped up, but she couldn't explain, she just shook her head. The desert multi-legged animals have gone somewhere. Dash took off a couple of times, as did Fluttershy, but Twilight couldn't lift herself into the air yet. How it jammed. She rose heavily, like a gorged duck, but immediately landed back down. Once it seemed to her that somewhere on the horizon a smoky haze floated, as if from a bonfire. But the bonfires don't move, and here... In the sense that it's here... In short, it seemed. — Twi, — Applejack took off her sweaty hat and scratched the salt with the horny edge of the hoof in disgust, — Listen to me. If we don't find anything there either, well, where Dash is, we just leave, right? Otherwise, it will end badly. — But how about... and if some pony... — Six ponies, — Rarity said. — Six stupid mares who decided that they had been given a remedy for everything, even the irreparable. — But The Elements... — Twilight Sparkle! Tell me honestly, what does your cutie mark mean? — Rarity paused. — Talent for magic, what else! — A talent for magic... considerable magical abilities, further enhanced after you were reinalicorned. Great, — The white unicorn nodded to herself. — Jackie says you were just pouring out for the last time. The magic was flowing, I mean, I didn't see it myself for obvious reasons. And you almost got to the point where something else would have poured out of you. Accompanied by convulsions. And now, Your Highness, think a little: what will become of the manifested Elements at the moment of such a blow? With their magic? — Uh... well, I think it's going to be okay... No one, however, has investigated this... — Don't look back. Spike is not here. You won't send the letter. And there are no books either. — I thought you and Spike had something going on, — Pinkie giggled. She obviously hadn't heard about the impropriety of jokes. — Family Diamond is quite old and influential. Well, he's rich, — Rarity, who is a Diamond, smiled coldly, still strangely clean among the sand. — Do you know why? The surname obliges. A diamond is hard, but it reveals its beauty when cut. And this cut is education. The very thing that stops you from various kinds of «experiments», even if the family saw fit to shove you into the province, out of sight. Unfortunately, it was only there that I realized that fooling around in the capital is not the meaning of life. Fortunately, it turned out to be not the province that is said to be the croup of the world. So, my dear ones, my family would close their eyes or turn a blind eye to any of my tricks, even with a griffin — there are only quarrels with the heirs in the family, I was not «impregnated» with such a duty — but not with a cadaver-runt, who even in ordinary life is a form that does not match with a pony or a character neither instincts, nor in the sense of «nut-bolt». — Rar! How can you say that! — Twilight gasped in outrage. — Your Highness Twilight Sparkle! And how can you, being a princess, do that, or rather not! To enroll! — Rarity snapped at scream. — Is it difficult to beg another rotten dragon egg from Celestia? You're an alicorn, your horn won't crack along the way to repeat the trick on the entrance exams of the best, bitch, school for mutant wizards and slap a lizard's girlfriend! Or conjure up a bigger Spike! Yes, I know that dragons grow slowly, but not that slowly! Celestia will play it out somehow, and the dragons will get to the truth! And I won't be around to dissuade a good, in principle, dragon from another migration or some other nonsense, during which it will be found out who he is! Twilight stared blankly at the unicorn. — It's called necromancy, honey, — Rarity calmed down a little. — What you and your mentor did in the exam that day. My parents, as they found out, according to them, had eaten sedatives to the point of difficulty breathing. They thought the Princesses were crazy and planning an army of the undead for themselves... From the same mummified eggs of the kurolisks, secret assassins, immune to magic, could be turned. There would be strength. And alicorn has enough strength. Now everyone was silent. It's painful, only the wind rustles sand and debris. — Well, are you going to continue to look for adventures on your croup? — Rarity reached the edge of the Twi dome, trying not to stick her head out. — Uh... I think the joke didn't work out. — Yes, Pinkie, the joke didn't work out, because I wasn't joking, — The white aristocrat cut her ears. — You can't do that... You can't say that... — Fluttershy glared Look at Rarity. — You can't say that!!! Apologize to Twilight! Immediately!!! — But it's true. Even though I was a little snot then, I ran after the doctor. It seemed to me... that... — Rarity sobbed. — That mom and dad... wanted... themselves... pills… And now someone is trying to brainwash his girlfriend. We're friends, aren't we, Flatty? Not yet? No one noticed Rarity doing anything. Something like a Twilight lens that has already been seen. And the Look did not work, at least not in full force. — Apologize, — Fluttershy repeated. — You offended her. — And you me. They were silent again. Then Rarity sighed. — Perhaps I should apologize, as someone who really wants to run around the courts is trying to make me. Your Highness, I ask you to forgive me for my thoughtlessly harsh statements. I also ask you not to tell Spike, whom I respect very much, and, moreover, not to write about it to Celestia. And think about what you can do with the growth of our dragon, — Rarity even bowed. — It's all a desert... It's definitely a desert... — Well, honey, — Applejack adjusted her hat again and shrugged, untangling herself from the harness of the cart. — It seems that I didn't know something about the Truth... Let's take a break and move on. Slowly. I don't think we'll find anything like that. It's just some kind of bad natural phenomenon. He doesn't get to the other ponies, does he? Did only the Princesses smell it? — Yes, and we have to justify their trust... — Twilight tried to raise her voice. But the template cracked and the brain got stuck. — It's time to look for new Keepers, these have gone bad, — Rarity winked at Pinkie, not someone. — Especially some of them.

***

— Belkin! Kicking you with a horseshoe! — Sandy sat down on the floor in front of the door with relief. Or after the door, as you can see. — Your light wasn't turned off, — The squirrel dog got up from the padded stool that Sandy used to put on her shoes. Summer hoarders required buckles-buttons or hooks to be fastened, winter mashed-up shoes could be shod like that, thrusting the hind leg, as they say, to the touch. Well, pony put on the front hybrids of mittens, warm slippers and sandals without the help of an padded stool. Although, in winter, sitting with your ass on the cold floor by the door or on the padded stool are different things. However, it's not winter here yet. And in comparison with the northern territories, it is generally a wonderful summer. — I... leave it sometimes. So as not to be afraid, — Pony smiled guiltily somehow, — When from the street into a dark house... — And I come in, but you're not there. And the light is on. I think everyone, der Kapetz, has arrested the most dangerous political criminal Light Sand, and they didn't let the light turn off after them... I'm sitting here thinking about what I'm going to do now, — Belkin spoke Equestrian with a subtle accent. However, he also spoke Russian with an elusive accent, differences in the structure of the human jaw and the squirrel dog affected, but Sandy couldn't appreciate it for obvious reasons. — No, no one arrested anyone, I'm from the doctor. I had an examination, well, on the mare's side... — I hope everything is all right. And since I'm here, I'm asking for permission to enter. No, I'm not an ancient scum. — But he's a perfect fool, — Sandy muttered. — Come in already.

***

— Sandy, — The stranger called out from the bathroom, closing the creaking faucet, — What kind of suspicious pipes on cart wheels did I see at some warehouses? — Irrigation system. What did you think? — I thought you had pegasi. — There are some. Not here, — Sandy went to the door. — Come on, get out. I put your drawer in the pantry. By the way, did you show up at the coal dumps? What's wrong? I buried the last skull in the place of the old one. — And the old one? — Belkin appeared from behind the door, his overalls unbuttoned and lowered to the waist, these long trousers for the upper paws are tied in the manner of a belt. — Wasteland. That's where these dumps are located. Like, a contingency reserve for steam locomotives. — Well, somehow it seemed that you would create an additional point. And my old clothes, as I understand it... — ...the one. Burnt pieces. — Here! As I knew! Okay, let's go back to our tradition of late-night tea drinking... We'll discuss everything there. — Some kind of tradition is too young, don't you think? — We have to start sometime... and I'd like to know how I'm going to pay you for a bed and board. — Belkin, should I start being offended? — Pony stood up on her hind legs, leaning on the sloping, not-quite-human shoulder of the squirrel dog. — No. Sorry. I... I just don't want to be an extra thing in the house that demands something, drives into expenses and wants to be thrown out. The art of being an outsider. — Belkin… Est' ty durak sovershenno?

***

— Belkin! Belkin, by your tail and around the corner! — Immediately after the click of the lock on the door, Sandy stopped humming something frivolous and went into a panic, accompanied by rushing around the table. She didn't even take off her basket. Pony carried the basket over her shoulder, which made the wicker flat container constantly slide back and forth on its ribbons, getting in the way. When walking calmly, this did not happen, and the way to hook a ribbon or belt over one front leg and throw a basket or bag over your back was suitable only for light carrying, otherwise the artery in the leg was slightly squeezed, and the limb began to go numb. — What? — The squirrel dog was distracted from drawing a hybrid of a primus and a lighter. For a hoof pony, the thing should have been well suited, but for a man such a thing would have been too big. «You can boil a whole ladle with not a spoon like that», — Valentin thought, but decided not to say this filth to pony. There is no need to drag various obscenities into this world, even if it is not real. And so already with the gun «helped». And with a grenade. — What-what... The Guardians of the Elements are here! I need to hide you somewhere! You never know what comes into their heads... Honestly, Celestia recruited them like in a mental hospital. N-dya... literally translated as «house of funny diseases». Tact and compassion are like a rod. — Oh, how! What's the matter with you here? — It's not here, it's in the Badlands. They went there. They wanted to take me too, but somehow... I tried not to catch this fun train, — Sandy calmed down, took off the basket and put it on the table, then cursed at herself and moved the container to the floor. — Hmm.… What did you do to scare the crowd that they were afraid to come close to me, but they kept all the escape routes under control? — You sound like a guardsman. Or a legionnaire, — Pony thought, remembering. — Ah! I told them that if they climb up to you, they will clean the sewers themselves! — Thanks a lot! I have already decided on my profession. But seriously, — The squirrel dog grinned so much that it became clear that nothing serious could be expected. — But seriously, is there a way to cram yourself into some hard and not too clean work without filling out and getting a stack of paper up to the ceiling? — Mm-hmm... there is.

***

Bitch. The fucking brain of whoever came up with this! I'm not talking about Sandy, although it wouldn't hurt for her to get a portion of the «lining material». It is not easy to place electrical communications in an underground box, but next to the sewer! Okay, the problem would be solved by sealing the cable box or its location above the shitbox. But! These filly children have put a transformer in the basement! And they've got something flooded somewhere, shorted out... fucked up, of course. Half of Dodge City is out of power. How? That's how? What do you have to fill the sewer with so it can go everywhere? And the basement, bitch, beckoned with open gates like those through which coal and peat used to be loaded. It seems to be. I wonder if my nose is animal or human? Will I faint right away or will I have time to swear? So why am I nervous here? It's already dried up, the washout has been repaired. Well, dirt, of course. It stinks. And burning, too. The room began to be washed, but it was abandoned. It's a miracle that the wooden floors didn't burst into flames. Did the protection work? Most likely. So, now for work. It is necessary to install a new transformer, connect it and call an analog field phone to supply current. I looked at it all and went outside. Walk around this round brick booth the size of a nice country house. So ponies houses in Dodge City are frame with a characteristic sheathing with horizontal overlapping boards, but here there is a squat stone pedestal with a roof in the form of a blunt cone. And with a weather vane. — Where's the new one? — I'm asking. — Here, — The local «electricians» are crumpling and waving their hooves. A crudely constructed box made of unpolished timber and humpback boards. The stencil inscription says that this is an «electromagical transformer». A strange sign in the form of a gear with a wrench and notches in a semicircle, like a scale. It seems like I'm almost the same, but I saw it with a hammer. Even in appearance, this shit is overweight. Under a ton, no other way. — Is there really something magical there? Or a single wire on the plates? — There... the materials are magically altered. So that it warms up less. Well, no one knows for sure, but unicorns say that the magic in this thing is only residual. Well, that's how they feel. I don't answer anything and go to the second... excuse me, to the first floor. I mean, I just walk into this booth. Iron cabinets with instrument windows, a switch with a handle in the form of a loop, warning labels. Judging by the terrible cross-section of the wires, but the small thickness of the insulation, the voltage here is not very high. About a hundred volts for consumers and one kilovolt from the main cable, or whatever it's called here. What else? The table is from some kind of bureau, all scratched and in circles from glasses, it even seems to have some kind of inscriptions on it. Journal. Fill it with a chemical pencil or something similar. — What's in there? — I point a finger with a stump of a claw at the door. — Uh... nothing? It's really nothing. Mops, rags, buckets. A box of tools that look like they can only be melted down. But the box is numbered. Awesome. — Okay, colts, — I say, and correct myself, — And fillies. Well, one for sure. I can try to fasten that monument in its original place, but I recommend dragging it here. He didn't get too warm at work, did he? They shake their heads negatively. Like horses. Some are not only in overalls, but also in trousers made of coarse, stiff fabric. The tails sticking out of the slits are bandaged with something. Isolation? — We'll build up the cable, — I continue to mock the installation rules, — Do you have a spare one? No? They have it. But not in the form of a harness in a common shell, but with separate copper wires. — This one will do. It will be necessary to wrap everything up again and check it with a test turn-on. Yeah? Fuck, on Earth I would have been castrated with that tool from the pantry for such homemade crafts. But the ponies are really in trouble, something needs to be done. They started this electrification yesterday. The specialist either left or got drunk. Or is it even a shaher-maher with an energy supplier without notifying Canterlot, and the meters I saw are spinning in the opposite direction? Belkin, bitch, you're going to get in trouble! Although... well, they will be thrown with payment. I'll get something anyway. And if anything, then I'm not me, and the horse is not mine. Well? Are we going to check how Ohm's law is being fulfilled in the magical land of ponies?

***

— Li-i-sten... And where did he come from? — What are you talking about? — A light purple pegasus with a strange, barely distinguishable cutie mark in the form of a white weight wrapped with either a rope or a wire, looked badly at an earth pony named Rusty Skrew. The mark of that one depicted some kind of brown hybrid of a bolt and a self-tapping screw, which was not in tune with the gray-green color of the stallion himself. — Well, he didn't show any papers that he was an expert. So maybe I should pay him as a handyman? — I don't know. How did you negotiate with him? — I didn't negotiate with him in any way, — Rusty looked at the pegasus in response. — I thought you were the one who made the deal with him. — I was just talking to this Light Sand, — The purple pegasus with the inappropriate but suggestive name Clay Cap frowned. — And she said that here is a craftsman, pay him as it goes. — Well? How will it go? — Rusty, what do you think? — Well, that's... Like... that's right, but he's not an expert! — Wire Twisting, as I understand it, is twisted by the wire of the consequences of a sudden holiday and will not be coming to work soon? — Clay... We agreed... — Rusty grimaced and glanced furtively around. — Cap. Call it a Cup, not Clay, I'm telling you again, — Clay Cap sighed. — I can't cover for our fitter forever if he doesn't stop with «prayers to Luna». Otherwise, my superiors will cover for me. In any way. Let's do this... — Well? — You and your shobla, who are you drinking with before the weekend, go and take Vair to work. Sober and scared, just like before Celestia's own visit, okay? Tell him that if he jumps into the glass again with an unresolved accident, I will personally report to my superiors. In the meantime, he got off with part of the earnings, — Pegasus wanted to add about the fact that these stallions have a weekend in two days on the third, but restrained herself. The job is not particularly difficult, but you always have to be on your toes. So that this voltage does not go anywhere from the wires. — Well, it's clear... It didn't work... — You don't understand anything yet! — Clay Cup got angry. — Tell him that the difference between the salary of a handyman and a certified electrician will be paid out of the money that he is entitled to, after all! My whole brain is already fucked up! As soon as something happens in the city, he's in a tailspin, bitch!.. And this one... — Yes, Cap? — The earth pony sighed. — You'll pay the creature as an electrician's assistant. You never know, you'll have to redo it here? Someone shouted. The contact device went off with a bang. The transformer hummed. The attendants wore obscenely about empty-headed consumers when the arrows on the cabinets stuck again. Loud clicks again. The transformer has changed the sound saturation. «Or not», — Clay Cap said to herself.

***

He was walking «home» in the evening and was tired like... Like a squirrel dog. While he figured it out, while he read the installation instructions he found... These «specialists» were not going to connect the zero phase in the input «star» at all. Like, it'll do just fine. And the «probe» made of a lamp, an old ballast resistance, a couple of wires and local fabric tape almost hit the ponies on the spot. The train leaving for Applusa whistled. There should be a transfer to the Canterlot «Express». In reality, it was an ordinary train, just with a minimized number of stops. Ponyville and Canterlot. Something remotely like an express train ran to the Crystal Empire, making a fucking loop to the west. Apparently, the rails were not laid in a straight line for ponies. Or they brought the project to Selka for consideration and approval, and she decided to play «connect the dots to make a dog's nose». Or is it just north of Canterlot that the soils are a layer of shit with frogs hung above the water lenses? Well, fuck him, fill your head! Belkin, already a little familiar with the town, waved his hand and decided to take a shortcut. Do not walk along the main streets, do not wander through the doorways, do not look into bars and pubs. All the rules? Or has he forgotten what? Well, it's not a bar, but a saloon, judging by the surroundings, but we're not looking in yet. Behind the platform, crossing the rails in the wrong place for lack of a proper place, he saw a pegasus barely standing with raised and trembling wings. Fuck, did he choke, or what? Or did he overdo it? No, he's really going to hit an oak tree now, he's already sat on his side somehow, like a slaughtered horse. — Eh? What are you doing? — Breath... can't... hel... — Look at me! Choked? — There was nothing to lose, and Belkin grabbed pegasus by the stomach with one paw, and slapped the other just above the shoulder blades. — Oh! — Somehow pegasus said resentfully and beat his wings. — Where to? — Belkin grabbed the pony by the tail. — Catch your breath first! — I'm... sorry... I didn't mean to... — The winged one was paralyzed again. — What. Happened, — The squirrel-dog-like creature snapped its fingers in front of the pony's nose. Well, as much as possible with such hands. He squinted at the paw of something resembling a hybrid of a diamond dog and a squirrel, then stared into the stagnant peat pools of the alien's eyes. And the magic was gone. — Are you breathing? The pony nodded. — Can you move? No. It is necessary to help with each step, manually rearrange the next leg. — Then breathe evenly and wait. I'll call someone. He jumped out onto the platform and looked around. That's just as luck would have it, when it's not necessary, there's a crowd of these ponies and two more, but when they're needed, they all disappeared with their tail in the air. Only one unicorn, not so much a sugary as a prim-looking one, looked contemptuously at the rails. Either he missed the train, or he just arrived and immediately bought a ticket back. At that moment, when this cocksucker with a haughty face looked at the station clock, and then at his wrist... foot watch, Belkin flew up to him. A white (rather, light-light-ashy) unicorn with an unpleasant dark blood-colored mane, tail and the same eyes looked up from admiring his chronometer, which had a place on a chain and in a vest pocket (yes, the pony was in a checkered vest), and not on a strap, and stared in surprise at a squirrel dog in a soiled jumpsuit. He did not forget to back away and light the light on the horn. — Sorry... there... Pegasus needs help. Shortness of breath and partial paralysis. Suddenly poisoned by what? — I'm not a doctor, my dear, — A stallion of thirty or forty years old announced in a cold tone, in Valentine's opinion, since fuck knows how many ponies live. — Let's see, but it would be better for the unfortunate to see a professional doctor. — I'm afraid I won't finish him in time, — Belkin ignored the grimace of the four-legged traveler. — I just didn't want to be with a corpse in the middle of the street. «Yes, go and take a look, otherwise the symptoms remind me of something from the cheerful instruction. There is also a lack of myosis and gray-yellow foam from the mouth». The unicorn sighed and followed the strange diamond dog. Wasn't he afraid that he would be robbed, kidnapped, or even killed by some diamond dogs or shifters? Or is everything not so terrible on the outskirts of Ponyland, as Sandy described at night gatherings? When the unicorn saw pegasus still shaking, but at least standing on his feet, all universal boredom and contempt left his aristocratic face. He got up, scouted something, looked back at Belkin with displeasure, scouted again, this time thoughtfully and not on the move. — I don't understand anything. It looks like mind magic in the most disgusting and crude execution, but there are almost no traces, as if they were not weaving a spell, but, — The unicorn stared at Belkin, as if he could know the correct answer and nod, — Innate magic was used. Like some kind of cockatrice. If the Equestrian in Valentine's head fit fine, then the word «cockatrice» was an old version of «curolisk» as old as Celestia's diapers. Well, at least it's not a hydralisk, and that's fine. The horned one did something else a couple of times, asked Valentine to hold pegasus. — How to hold it? So as not to fall? — No, wrap your paws around him so that he doesn't kick and beat with his wings. There is one spell... — He's not going to die? — Rather the opposite, — The unicorn muttered, and completed his «very powerful sorcery» by touching the horn to the nose of the pegasus. He screamed, one wing broke out and scored at random. Including Belkin's squirrel face. — Suka, yobany v rot, stop it! Pegasus stared at the «saviors» in a daze. — Well, now we can go to the doctor, and as soon as possible, otherwise the effect is short-lived, — The unicorn «bowed» with a nod. Belkin looked at him expressively. Well, how could he. The squirrel dog's facial expressions left much to be desired. Especially with a numb cheek and a swollen lip. The unicorn sighed. He didn't want to go anywhere there.

***

— Is the doctor in? Urgently needed! A paralytic has formed here! We suspect an attempt at illegal and improper disposal of insecticides! The same nurse horse with a robe exactly half her ass (it seems to be a Soft Key) and for some reason with a stylized trace of a cat's paw on the Label shuddered and stared in disbelief at the two who supported the third. — Doctor, — Key opened the door a crack and bumped into Dr. Chip, who, such a bastard, had already taken off his robe, packed his bag, and was going to close the office altogether. — There is a suspicion of poisoning... The doctor lived here, but on the floor above. The waiting room of the «wait in the corridor» system, the office and the treatment room were on the first floor, and on the second, apparently, the horned healer lived, at the same time being in a «duty sleep» at night. Soft Key looked at the trio with hostility and understanding. Well, yes, we had a lot of cider diluted with technical alcohol or this griffin «birre» on henbane with fly agarics, and now — here. The doctor sighed and began to put on his robe again. And the cap, which he hooked with a horn and almost tore. The evening promised to be fucked up. And they weren't supposed to charge for emergency care either. And from the treasury... Go and wait! And what should they write in the form? That they were filled with an indeterminate liquid? Then Celestia will forbid drinking altogether, and no Luna will wash it off. The ancient custom implies drinking the product of distillation or freezing, rather than fuel for lamps and steam tractors. But after the diagnosis, the story repeated itself, only with another unicorn. The doctor took a deep breath and looked at the alien with hatred. Did he have to? Need. Pegasus could really suffocate completely or get the incurable effects of hypoxia. — What happened? — Chip Resepi didn't want to hear the answer, but he had to. Pegasus, whose name was Silk Wing, began to talk. Some yellow pegasus with a pink mane and the same tail (no, he didn't see the cutie mark) decided to feed the birds. At the station, where even without different breadwinners, half of the pie is lying around, then they will spill what... Well, Silk said that she should feed it, but he should wipe the shit off the roof and benches, and he also had to fly to see what was going on with the arrows, where the branch to Applusa was. And these, with the horn of Celestia in their ass, bluebird sparrows or whoever else got fat like farm chickens, take off with a run. Out, then the steam from the locomotive will blow over one of them, then which one will not be able to jump off the rails in time... So to Discord this feeding, the corpses will still be cleaned later. And what kind of infections are there... In general, this yellow one was taken up like a yak, who for the first time climbed out of his mountains and saw that everything around was not according to custom. Well, that's what he told her. And why are the plates not made of stone, and the manure on the walls is not of the same consistency, and there is nowhere to fuck a goat... She was yelling something that the birds were alive and needed to be taken care of, and Silk Wing stood in a stupor and looked into those wells that were her eyes. And there was not even Tartarus, but the senseless and final destruction of the world. A veil of death, behind which... something inanimate was swarming. I will open the Gates so that the dead outnumber the living. I will open the Gates, and the dead will rise up to devour the living. — I wanted to run away, my wings wouldn't obey, but she ordered me to «Freeze!» and I stopped moving. And I almost stopped breathing, — Silk Wing got nervous, and Chip Resepi conjured something sedative. — Do you understand? I couldn't breathe, I didn't have enough air, and she wanted me, the yellow bitch, to «think about my behavior». Until the very end. Until I die. They were silent. — Well? — Belkin touched his cheek. Did the magic not help at all, or did the swelling start to go away? It still hurt the same way. He grimaced and explained: — Any ideas? Does anyone know this hypnotist member? Is it possible to hire a private investigator if there have already been similar cases? Or don't we think and just call the Guard? — There's a sheriff for local troubles, — The doctor shook his head. — Moreover, there will be nothing to show to the Guard. Sorry, there is no corpse, magical examination will give almost nothing, and words are words. Even more so... — ...Yes, I'm against the Guard, — The onehorned aristocrat who introduced himself as Bon Voyage wilted. — They'll start digging in the wrong place. — Wait, but... did I just feel like I was dying? — Pegasus did not understand the humor. — No. You were dying. And to be honest, I don't understand how a slap on the back could bring you out of this state. — Doc, you said I was antimagical, — The squirrel dog got into the conversation. — Hm. There is something like that, but you are more likely to simply not be diagnosed. If I cure a minor injury with magic, after a lot of sweat, then something serious... You just don't respond to magic, not even as a boulder, but as a black crystal. Haven't you heard? We have them. They are rolled into the shell of cannon shells in the form of powder. I don't know the details. — I confirm, — Bon Voyage said, — it's very difficult for an ordinary unicorn to conjure next to Valentine. — Are you unusual? — Belkin tried to ask without insulting tone or obscene hints. — There are... certain features of magic, if you don't go into details, — The topic was unpleasant for Voyager. — I can guess who it was, — The doctor said. — And I, oddly enough, — Belkin smiled angrily. — I... There will be no «I». There will only be an order from the Element of Kindness. Including the order to stipulate yourself if you live to see the trial! — So there's nothing we can do? — Bon Voyage made an impenetrable face. A good mine in a bad game. Belkin, however, would prefer a directed action. It's also a very good mine. — We can, — Said the hybrid, making some vague gesture with the brush of his tail thrown on his lap and looking around at everyone with a magic-extinguishing gaze. — But not right away. And if we do that, your lives will go upside down. Like a derailed carriage. And not only yours. Bon Voyage wanted to add something, but irritably waved his front leg (almost like a human hand) and said nothing.

***

The relatively spacious royal cabin would have been cramped, so they settled down on the bridge. Chrysalis was sitting in the operator's chair of the spark transmitter, since the device ordered her to live a long time and not get sick, and the operator himself, named Silent Spark, observed slightly different sparks in another tube, helping in the engine room. She would have liked to stand on the deck, but the queen was shivering, and the increasingly weak night turns were almost not felt by ordinary changelings, but not by alicorn. — I shouldn't have ordered it. There will be more auctions. They don't remember any good anyway, let alone when they're unconscious... — And what were we supposed to do, my queen? — The captain squinted. — I don't know, my dear Haitin Wil, — Chrysalis, who climbed into a chair with legs, which was not that difficult for her height, but required a certain flexibility and dexterity, wrapped her hind legs with her front ones. — What would happen if we left them lying there? — Knight Scope asked. — They would have died, — Chrysalis replied, somewhat distastefully. — All six of them. — My queen, I'm talking about the long-term consequences... — Discord knows him! Maybe Celestia would have taken a new set of Keepers out of her locker and flown here for magical samples of bad taste... hmm. And she didn't seem to notice us. She might have thought it was us all. And it's a little early for us to clash with her. — Good. And so how can it end? — Night Spirit got in. — Nothing good either. They're like monkeys from the Forbidden Jungle with these trinkets, to whom someone gave a grapeshot. If they don't kill themselves, they'll kill someone else. And, worst of all, they can interfere with the Outcome. — My queen, do you believe in this plan? — From a certain point on, I don't believe in anything anymore, I'm empty inside. But the Outcome is far from a plan, it's just an opportunity with a bunch of conditions. The opportunity not to dance to Selka's tune everything in the world. Okay, — Her Frightened Chitinous Majesty decided to change the subject, — Who can say what it was at all? The ship rocked smoothly, crossing the waves of sand frozen in imperceptible endless movement. «At night, you need to go on deck, drive out the crew who are not on duty there, and... pull out a brazier and fry smelly tasteless cheese from Yak-yakistan on the fire? Should I conjure soda from sugar and water for everyone? I can't breathe like that, and the smoke from the pipes of the sand truck smells», — Chrysalis was thinking. They passed that magical place again, where the remains of the walls of a prehistoric fortress sticking out of the sand with rotten teeth... seemed to be rotten teeth. Smelly, unclean, thoroughly sick and dangerous with some kind of infection. And this air deadening from antimagic. And the hum in my head, the hum of cosmic darkness, the hum of what is hiding behind space. Flowers of evil. The corpse poison of the dead inhabitants of the dead worlds. Dead, but Sleeping. Something was brewing. And a velvety distorted voiceover in my head if I close my eyes... Insanity is the primary condition for their manifestation. They do not exist outside of those who see them inside themselves. They are a materialized hallucination of a brain affected by malignant formations. The materialization of a thought process affected by malignant ideas. They will devour the world and fall asleep again, invisibly walking through their own unimaginable dreams, which will be the thoughts of those who will replace us and will again see distorted dreams, the essence of which is non-thoughts Changing Shape, Manifesting in objects of a Double Beast. They are the blood of the King's blood, and the King's blood will stop them. But there is no one. It is said that if you open your throat in the very middle of the swampy forests between Canterlot and the Crystal Empire, the blood will spread by an unknown magical figure, opening up incredible possibilities that will not be needed for obvious reasons. — We don't have a definite version, queen, — Knight Scope said for everyone. — It can be anything from an unknown due to the extreme rarity of a natural phenomenon to the testing of a new magical weapon by some deer. Or is it even a breakthrough of something from other dimensions. — I wish I knew what exactly. — Zebras have some kind of mossy legends about the Great Evil coming from the stars. — That's why they have all kinds of astronomy now a secret art, for which you can part with your head, — Chrysalis calmed down and sat down normally. — I'm sorry to interrupt, my queen, — The helmsman, Rong Step, I think, said without turning around, — But the evil of zebras does not come from the stars, but from the farthest stars, to be precise. A turnover was used there, which has now changed its meaning. My father told me when he went there with a trading caravan. Yes, there were times. Changeling scouts went everywhere in search of «extra» emotions. And it was necessary to look for territory and natural resources. — Like a door on a horn, like a horn on a door, — Chrysalis muttered in response. On the other hand, everything that happened made it possible to rake out almost all the fuel from those wreckage and rummage if there was anything else interesting left. That's just a huge amount of bones...

***

They didn't talk much. Could not. Dash, who had not said any words of gratitude to Rarity for the parachute that saved her from falling, had sore eyes. The second encounter with the ruins of the fortress only made matters worse. Magic didn't help for long. Rarity was crying silently, and clearly not because of the parachute. Pinkie tried to wake everyone up, but... in the toilet of the carriage, her mane itched, and, thank Celestia, it wasn't insects. Some kind of pills. The transparent packaging material, but not magically processed paper, but something else, immediately began to turn cloudy. Pinkie, without thinking at all, squeezed a strange pill onto the supporting surface of the second «hoof» with her finger and put it in her mouth. She threw the rest in the trash. The pink earth pony was sure that she would not get anything bad from outside the world. Belkin would have argued. Even if the pills are not real material, but someone's psychoprojection, then what will be the psychoprojection of a plastic tube with some kind of cheerful pathogen in Ponyland? No, not the horse from an old joke. Twilight was smiling tightly at this time and saying that everything would be fine. She was scared shitless of Celestia's reaction. Her sigh and reproachful look. — How is that, Your Highness Twilight Sparkle? Is that why you became a princess? Luna, what should I do with these klutz who couldn't cope with their own vocation to keep the Elements of Harmony and use them at the call of their hearts? — Send these unworthy ones to the northwest of Equestria, let them shovel the snow! They say that physical work in the fresh air, climate change and a diet poor in fruits, but rich in hard hay, bitter moss and freshly frozen fish, contributes to the enlightenment of the mind! But not immediately, but in five years! Twilight also had a nagging headache. And the concentration was gone. There was magic, but to create the simplest spell... Well, some kind of light, that's all. Rarity used the horn, but she still had a strange apathy, as if all her feelings had disappeared somewhere. Everything was thrown out of a bucket, and then the empty one was substituted for a barely flowing trickle from a broken faucet. Slowly. Very slowly. Then she will be thrown into fear, then she will break into an ironic laugh. And how not to own everything. — What kind of papers were they? — Applejack grimaced as the train rattled the cars at the switch. — The ones that were tied to our front leg? — And on my tail, — Pinkie said, returning from the bathroom. — And Twi is on the toe of the hind leg. Pinkie smelled of tar, steam train smoke, and cheap soap, which is what they put in train toilets all over Equestria. She also had a strange look in her eyes. — I think it's something medical, — Rarity said, — But I won't take this camel apart even on pain of execution. — Something was being done to us, — Said the yellow earth pony. — I have a spot of blood on the crook of my front leg. — It was Princess Luna's thestrals! — Pinkie decided instantly. — Batpony, blood drinkers! — Most likely, we were drugged with something or a blood sample was taken for magical research. Does anyone's croup hurt? — I was sick while we were returning to Dodge City, — Admitted Fluttershy, who had to fly back more than she would have liked. — But I thought I just fell badly. — We all fell badly there, — Rarity replied coolly. — And suddenly woke up in that very flying steamer. Cleaned of sand, laid out on different rags and, if I understood everything correctly, in a state of moral devastation, as I have after a responsible display of a new collection. — But I thought it was the Elements that took us away from danger at the time of their use, — Twilight was confused. — There was no one there. — Maybe, — Applejack said. — Or maybe someone helped us. — Hey, if they had helped us, they wouldn't have hidden and run away! — Rainbow Dash said, but hissed and blinked. Rarity lit the horn, once again conjuring something healing and relieving the swelling. The spell didn't work. — Darling, let's ask the conductor for a non-hot tea and wash your eyes. — I knew your magic was bullshit, — Pegasus muttered. — I'm not a doctor, — Rarity retorted, — And neither are you a magician. — Well, we'll come to Canterlot, see the doctors, and everything will be fine! Pinkie smiled a little mechanically. Her face did not obey, there was a slight mist in her eyes, and her brain was tickling in her head. The train entered a smooth turn, the locomotive blew a whistle. In another hour and a half there should be a bridge over a Terrible Gorge with a river below, which local jokers called the Wet Crack of Nightmare Moon. — I'm going to get some tea, — Rarity said. — Hey! I don't need any earthly ponies grandmother's recipes! — The blue pegasus could not come to terms with the fact that she could also have ailments. — As you know. Then I'll ask myself. — Do your eyes hurt too? — Apple Jack was wary. — No. I'm just thirsty. It's all that desert. Rarity was now ready to go for tea and to the toilet at least a dozen times. Herself, without asking, more like an order to bring in the compartment and how much sugar there should be. No. Herself. Drinking and pissing. And drink again.