The Conversion Bureau: The Coldest Dish

By Silvertie

Part 3 – Mens Rea

I came to on a bed, staring at the wall.

“Ugh,” I grunted, and rolled over. My center of gravity was all out, and I yelped as I accidentally rolled too far, and went right off the bed itself, to exclamations of alarm from two other people.

I got my face out of the carpet, and looked up; seeing a concerned Thunder Slam and Null Point leaning over me.

“You okay, there, Hugh?” Thunder asked, slowly.

“Ye-es,” I said, equally slowly, “Why are we talking so slow?”

“Oh, just checkin’.” Thunder said, a bit quicker. “Some newfoals can barely understand spoken words for some reason. Might be a side effect of the good doctor’s custom potion mix. Not permanent, though.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Null said, holding up a torch briefly, pointing it at my eyes. “Your eyesight should be fine. Better, even.”

“Can I get up, now?” I asked.

“Sure, if you’ve got the legs for it; which you do, I might add.”

I worked my body around so my hooves were under myself, and rapidly worked out the new logistics of standing on all fours – surprisingly easy, when you’ve got the body for it – and got my bearings.

I was in my bureau room, definitely. The furniture had been moved to the walls. Thunder and Null were here with me. A mirror had been set up on the wall, which I carefully moved towards, flanked by Thunder and Null and stumbling slightly, so I could look at myself.

In the mirror, a caramel-brown Pegasus stared back at me with aqua-blue eyes and a rich blue mane – a red streak shot through the dark blue strip of hair, to my surprise. When I saw it, my wings shot out a little in surprise, flapping slightly when I started paying more attention to them.

“Does this happen often?” I asked, as I carefully lifted a hoof and touched the stripe, ruffling my mane as I tried to stop my wings beating of their own volition.

“Streaks in your mane like that? Not often, actually,” Thunder said, “I could count all the cases I’ve seen on my hooves.”

“I am such a special snowflake,” I grunted.

“I think the streak is usually caused by some sort of underlying mental drive,” theorized Null, “Do you happen to really, really want something?”

“Uh, not really,” I lied, “Although... wait, don’t I have a butt-marking or something?”

“A cutie mark? Hmm...” Null became alarmed, and wandered around me quickly. “Uh, you... don’t seem to have one.”

“I don’t have one? Is that normal?”

“To be honest,” Thunder said, “Not really. Most newfoals have one, and regular foals mock other foals that don’t have cutie marks; that should give you an idea of where you are on the scale of things.”

“I believe the technical term is ‘Blank Flank’,” Null interjected, crossing off a checkbox on a clipboard. “Oh well – it just means you haven’t found your talent yet. A world of opportunity awaits you.”

“And not havin’ a butt-markin’ won’t stop me teaching you how to get about,” Thunder said, as I began to pace in circles cautiously, “Although you look like you’re making progress already.”

======

The next few hours were largely uneventful – mostly cases of me falling on my face as I learned the do’s and don’ts of walking with hooves, and the caveats thereof.

Doors were a big one; as a pegasus, I had to make do with using my face, or one hoof – not two, as that led to a face-full of carpet, door-handle, or both.

I also learned very quickly to keep your tail up when you take a dump – again; only precision limb: face; my ass, etc. Quite possible with my new physiology, but really, really gross.

The stories were quite right – hay did taste quite nice as a pony. Unlike Silver Tie, however, I could no longer abide corn-chips, which further reinforced my theories about why these guys were here for various reasons.

All told, my first day as a pony came and went with no real drama. Which was good, because I had enough drama for a whole week the next day, when I met Thunder on the roof.

“Okay, Hugh. Hugh,” Thunder muttered, “Given any thought to a more Equestrian name?”

“I’m working on it,” I said, “You said something about physiotherapy.”

“Right, that. You can walk and run, from what I hear.”

“Yeah.” I was betting Silver had told him about the running thing when I ran full-tilt into a wall for no apparent reason that not even I could discern.

“Well, today you fly.”

“Already? It’s only been a day! Didn’t the brochure say it took seven days or something for me to get all my faculties back?”

“Yeah, but that was written with all Conversion Bureaus in mind – we’ve got Null Point playing mad scientist here with the potion, so we can cheat a little. Any other Bureau, and you’d still be in bed, wracked with growing pains; or barely able to walk. Null’s found a way to program the basics into a newfoal, like instincts.”

“Alright, fine. So, flying.” I unfurled my wings and gave them a brisk flap, careful not to flap too hard, lest I fall over. Again.

“Yeah. It’s harder than it feels, but easier than it sounds, if that makes any sense. Now...”

Thunder launched into a quick, informal lecture about how Pegasus wings worked. As a Pegasus, I could now sit on and play with clouds, much like sand. When I flew, I had to adjust my wing trim like this to go up, and that to go down, and so on.

It went on for several hours, interspersed with brief demonstrations and practice-flaps, but by the end, I was sure I knew as much about flight as Thunder did.

“And now, the final exam,” Thunder announced, gesturing to the edge of the building, “you jump off, and try to fly. Nail it first time, and there’s a cash prize in it for you.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“I’d say... a hundred bits. That’s a good start for life in Equestria.”

“It’s not easy is it?”

“Nope. But you never know...” Thunder trailed off, and I looked over the edge of the building. No crash-padding adorned the pavement below.

“You really think I can do it?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t be telling you to do it if you couldn’t. You’ve been picking up on the theory faster than I can teach it, almost. Now all you have to do is put it all into practice. Don’t forget – just pretend you’re standing there, and practicing. Don’t panic.”

I nodded, and stepped completely up to the lip, looking down. The Bureau stretched out beneath my light brown hooves as if it was one of the sixty-story skyscrapers that surrounded us.

I swallowed – no time like the present, right? I leapt, and streaked downwards, learning another new life lesson – ponies are aerodynamic like rocks.

“WINGS!” Shouted Thunder, and I started; I’d already fallen two stories and my wings weren’t even out yet. I flexed my muscles, and caught the wind in my wings.

Nothing changed – of course, I was  still pointing downwards. I needed to pull up, so I trimmed my wings – and narrowly missed the wall as I corrected myself and trimmed the other way around.

My flight arc was deep – I’d dived for too long, and I was set to plow into the pavement at this rate. If I trimmed any harder, I’d just go into what Thunder called a flat-fall, or as I knew it, a stall. And landing like that would destroy my brand-new legs, at best, so I opted for the crash-landing option. As I fell, my heart began to beat harder and faster than it ever had before, pounding away like a jackhammer on steroids. The grey of pavement rapidly gave way to the dark black of asphalt, which drew closer alarmingly fast, and I braced for impact.

Which never came – I realized a gripping sensation around my torso, and looked behind me. Thunder was descending after me, and in the doorway of the bureau building, Silver was standing there, horn glowing intensely as he held me up – I realized that he’d been the one to catch me and stop me turning myself into newfoal paste on the pavement.

“Whoops,” I remarked, earning myself the understatement of the year award, and Thunder laughed.

“Oh, that was good,” he chuckled. “You came real close, probably the closest I’ve ever seen.”

“Wait, ever? That means you...”

“Yeah. Nopony ever makes flight their first time,” confessed Thunder, “But you came damn close. Usually we use a water-field thing that Null has, to slow you down to less lethal speeds before you hit the ground, but since it’s just you, Silver opted to catch you. He’s a good catch, isn’t he?”

I felt a little cheated, and Thunder noticed, clapping a hoof on my shoulder when Silver finally let me go.

“Ah, since you almost got it, I’ll almost give you all the money – fifty bits?”

“Yeah, okay,” I groused, then remembered my manners. “Thanks.”

“No worries. Now, how about we give that another shot?”

======

Another day passed, and I improved rapidly – by the time the carriage came to pick me up, I was already moving and flying almost as well as the three Bureau ponies.

“You’ve done well, Hugh,” Thunder nodded as I stood in the foyer, waiting for the carriage-puller to finish making his preparations for the trip. “Already walkin’ and flyin’ like a pro.”

“Thanks, Thunder.”

“Don’t be a stranger, now,” Silver egged, “Once you think you’re up to it, feel free to swing back here any time. Or if we’re gone, my place in Canterlot.”

“It’s been a pleasure knowing you,” agreed Null. “I hope those profiles I gave you prove to be of help. Equestrian paper, so don’t worry about the barrier dissolving them.”

“I’m sure they will. Best of luck with the stealth module thing.”

“Oh, that? Already finished,” Null dismissed, “Here. You can have it. I won’t need it.”

“You – I what?” I dropped the dossier folder and caught the boxy device with my forehooves as it was thrown.

“It stops things seeing you, but it won’t stop them hearing you, got it?”

“Why are you giving me this?”

Null pulled me aside, and his friendly smile faded briefly. “I’m not stupid. You’ve got the look of somepony who isn’t just looking up a friend. Thunder might buy it, but I see what you’re up to, and I’m sure Silver does as well. And I wish you luck.”

“Wouldn’t the responsible thing to do at this point be stopping me?”

“What would that achieve? You’ll just sit on it for the rest of your life; probably do something stupid in the end. Besides, if Silver isn’t stopping you, I see no reason to second-guess him.”

“What makes his opinion worth so much?”

We looked at the unicorn in question, who was coughing and hacking on something, which he spat out. It was a bit of corn-chip, and looking around surreptitiously, he picked it up, blew on it, and ate it again.

“He might be a bit of a goofball some times, but there’s a reason he’s this bureau’s head of Security.” Null got even closer. “I think that perhaps, you are the only one who can truly stop yourself – if it happens any other way, you’ll only get hurt. And until you do make the call, you need to stay safe.”

Null pushed the device into my chest, his message clear, and walked away with a wave of his hoof, entered the stairwell. At the same time, the front doors opened, and the Pegasus who was pulling the chariot came in.

“Right, all set. Where’s the passengers?”

“Right here.” I raised a hoof, and walked forward. The Pegasus looked at me.

“You it?”

“Yeah.”

He squinted. “You don’t look much like a newfoal.”

“I learned how to fly and stuff real fast.”

“I can attest to that,” Thunder grunted, “He’s out-flying me already.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“Because I don’t know the first thing about long-distance flight.”

“Fair enough. Alright, say your goodbyes, and let’s go. Where is everypony?”

“This is it,” Silver informed the puller, “We got downsized.”

“You guys too? Shoot, I thought it was just the west coast.” The Pegasus rubbed his mane. “Alright, let’s go.”

I waved to Thunder and Silver.

“See you guys around!”

“Sure, Hugh. Let us know when you think of your new name!” Silver replied, moving over to the counter. Thunder just saluted, and wandered off to the break room.

In no time at all, it was just me and the carriage-puller, who led me outside and opened the door for me.

“In you hop.”

I made my way in, careful to keep my wings by my sides, so I didn’t drop the folder of profiles that Null had given me, as well as the stealth module. I sat down, and the carriage began to move, taking me to my new home – Equestria.

======

The carriage flew through the air, pulled by one and with a passenger of one; I was glad of the quiet as I sifted through the profiles.

So many ponies. I had twelve ponies who could possibly be the killer. I shucked all the candidates that signed up prior to 9:30 – the time I got shot. That left five.

I could always do some door-to-door. Said they all lived in what amounted to the opposite corners of Equestria, but...

I sorted out the pictures, and stopped, looking at one.

The eyes. Eyes I’d never forget.  Eyes that saw me get shot.

Newfoal #4,682,234. Shale-grey coat, a brown mane, and green eyes. Piercing green eyes, the eyes of a killer.

I poked my head out of the window, and hailed the Pegasus pulling the carriage.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“We’re going to Manehattan,” the Pegasus shouted back over the wind, “It’s where all newfoals from your area start.”

“What about Canterlot?”

“You wanna go to Canterlot? What for?”

“I found out where my friend might be! I want to pay him a visit!”

“Sorry, no can do! Gotta go to Manehattan!”

I sat back down and sulked for a moment. Then poked my head back out the window.

“How far to Canterlot from here?”

“From here?” The Pegasus ruminated on the question. “I’d say a half-hour’s flight, why?”

That was all I needed. I grabbed my things in my mouth, and without wasting time, pushed the door open, jumping out, taking wing and flying up alongside the carriage-puller, who looked at me, eyes wide.

“Hey! You crazy newfoal! Get back in there!”

I shook my head, and pointed all around. The Pegasus sighed in a way that indicated that this wasn’t the first time a newfoal Pegasus had decided they wanted off early.

“Canterlot’s that way. Stay safe, brony.” The Pegasus pointed off towards a mountain in the distance – I nodded, and with a small salute, took wing towards the town.

======

Canterlot. Not a small town by any standards – it was the capital of Equestria, after all. Even humans knew of it and spoke of it in hushed whispers. Conspiracy theories abounded of links between the fabled King Arthur and the pony-populated city.

And now I had to find one pony with nothing but a mugshot to guide me. A task all but impossible for one person in a human city.

In Equestria, however, such a task simply became a case of legwork – Silver Tie had been right, everypony knew somepony who knew the pony you were after.

“Huh, I ain’t seen him,” said one, “But ask my friend, perhaps he has?”

“I can’t quite remember him...” mumbled another, “look this mare up, she’s got a talent for faces.”

“Hm, yes, I saw him in a magazine, I think,” posited a thoughtful pony, “Try... her, she’s got issue 19, I’m sure.”

“Issue 19? Oh, that’s Marble Shatter!” The librarian exclaimed, surprised. “I’m astonished you don’t know who he is.”

“Who is this Marble Shatter?” I asked, slightly irritated. As simple as this little quest had been, it was still me getting the run-around from no less than thirteen other ponies.

“Marble Shatter’s an earth-pony art prodigy, that’s what. He’s hit the art world by storm about a month ago, that newfoal. No previous history with sculpting, he says, but first thing he does, he produces this amazing statue in two days! Worth hundreds of thousands of bits!”

“Seriously? So he’s rich, then?”

“Actually, no,” the librarian said, holding up a hoof. “I can see why you’d think so, but here’s what makes Marble Shatter so unique – he improves with every sculpture, each one worth more than the last – and he destroys them almost as soon as they’re finished! With genuine witnesses and all!”

“No way.” My jaw dropped. Was I really chasing this sculpture-obsessed pony?

“Yeah, the witnesses claim they heard him mutter something about ‘not enough’. What it’s lacking, they can’t tell... He just keeps making better and better statues, nopony knows what he’s going to come up with next.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Oh, he lives here in Canterlot. I think he lives up on the terrace, he’s working out of one of Fancy Pants’ mansions; that stallion has an eye for talent, and he’s picked Shatter.”

“I don’t suppose I could ask for directions? I’m new in town, you see, and I wish to pay my friend a visit.”

“Likely story,” snorted the Librarian. “I doubt he knows you. Everypony always tries to grease up to Fancy’s protégés.”

“Oh, but he does. He got ponified a month ago, and I would have joined him if I hadn’t had a little accident and been in hospital since then.”

“Oh,” the librarian said, flushing in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“That’s okay. But where am I going, exactly?”

“Well,” the Librarian said, tapping the side of her head with a hoof, “I think the newspaper said he was going to throw a party tonight to celebrate his latest creation; it made the news because he says this is the first one he’s supposedly happy with.”

“So I just look for the party?”

“Yes. Good luck, sir, I hope your reunion goes well.”

I nodded and walked out of the library. Our reunion was something I’d been looking forward to for a long time.

======

I soared over the town, easily locating the house I was after – it was massive, after all, and in the dimming light, the brightest-lit; I could see fancy ponies wandering about, discussing things that were, in the long run, pointless.

Getting in there to “discuss” Shatter’s past, however, would be the real trick – for such a fancy party, there was some equally tight security. I guessed that when you threw parties for the social elite, the guest list was rigidly enforced.

And Null had anticipated this. I looked at the boxy device he’d given me, and wiped some droplets of water off it; it was starting to rain.  Well, right now it was starting to drizzle, but I could just... tell. It was going to rain, I would bet money on it. Chalk it up to being a pegasus.

That meant I had to move fast – I doubted the stealth field would look so good in the rain. I shoved the mugshots under a handy hedge; I’d come back for those if I was wrong about Shatter. I flew up, and, Null’s device in my mouth, toggled the switch with my tongue.

With a soft hum, it was as if everything was underwater – the landscape shifted and swirled like the surface of a bubble, and I saw that it was only just large enough for me to fly in without sticking my wings out or anything.

Of course, I couldn’t tell what I looked like from the outside, so this was, in a sense, the first ever field-test of Null’s device.

I flew towards the perimeter, eying the airborne pegasus security team uneasily; they didn’t have guns or other visible weapons, but I was quite sure they’d oblige me with hooves if I wasn’t as invisible as I hoped.

But my worrying was for naught. I passed by them with barely a whisper to signify my presence, and they kept looking straight ahead, uninterested in the spherical shimmer that had passed by not ten meters from them.

I looked at the mansion grounds in more detail; there was quite the garden, and I could see a few guests making their way back to the main building in light of the drizzle. Perfect, I could pretend to be one of them.

I touched down behind a handy tree, and after a quick check to make sure nopony was watching or nearby, disabled the stealth field. The rainbow shimmer faded from around me, and I sharply stepped behind the tree. I carefully put the device in the fork of the tree, nodding as it stayed where I put it – another thing to come back for, later.

I mingled with the crowd retreating from the rain, to disapproving looks from my cover – considering my lack of attire compared to their tuxedos and cummerbunds; I was probably under-dressed by a few orders of magnitude.

I made my way inside as the sounds of proper rain began to start behind me, squeezed past a clique of art critics who were drinking fancy champagne and eating strawberries, and ducked under the tray of a unicorn offering more of the same to others, to find my mark.

I didn’t even need the mugshot now; his face was burned into my memory. But still, I hesitated – he looked so... small. The shale-grey earth pony... I kind of expected him to be bigger. Badder. Less... weak-looking. He looked like Null could probably beat him senseless. Was this the pony that had a mind capable of murder?

No. No stopping now. I’ve come too far to stop now. I fixed a smile to my face, and walked up behind him, a façade of cheerfulness on my face and body.

“Hey, Marble Shatter! It’s been ages!”

One of his friends raised a laconic eyebrow at my rather damp and sweaty unorthodox presence. “Ah, Marble. A... friend of yours?”

Marble turned around, and looked at me, his own eyebrow raised. “I... I’m sorry. I don’t recall meeting you before. Are you sure you have the right pony?”

“Of course I do, buddy! We met a while back!” I got close, and gave him a soft jab to the shoulder, looking him in his eyes. The eyes. “Remember? About a month ago?”

He stiffened. “I’m sorry, you must have me confused with somepony else. I only got ponified around then.”

“Come on, think back,” I urged. “Last month - we shot the breeze together, remember?” my voice dropped to a hard tone. “Right before I had my ‘accident’.”

Marble went pale, bringing his tone to roughly that of dirty chalk. Thunder punctuated my veiled accusation as it rolled outside. “Y- you...”

I grinned, a genuine grin of pleasure creasing my face as my hoof wound back. “I finally found you.”

CRACK

My hoof shook slightly with the force of the strike, and Marble reeled backwards, pushing aside the socialites he’d just been talking to, all of whom looked positively outraged at my actions.

“Young colt, what is the meaning of this?!” exclaimed a rather rotund mare, stamping a hoof gently in outrage as I shoved past her, closing the gap with the recovering Marble, who got up to his hooves unsteadily.

“I... how?” was all he got out, before I hit him again, sending him sideways into a piano which had been sitting in the center of the room, with a loud note of pain and a bang as the lid was dislodged from the rod propping it up, and fell closed.

“She was everything, Shatter! My everything!” I shouted as I spun, and bucked him into the air with my rear legs as he was getting up; the hit sent him clean over the piano, and he slid to a gentle halt on the marble tiles on the other side, to hushed exclamations from the socialite crowd, who’d begun to gather around to see the exchange. I walked out from around the piano and began to close the gap once more.

He got to his hooves again, eye blackening where I’d hit him, and a cut forming down the side of his face where my hoof-strike had split the skin.

“For... for what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he gasped, wincing as he felt his chest and the forming bruise in the shape of my hooves.

“Sorry won’t bring her back to me, you bastard!” I responded, and with a leap, took wing; I plowed into the Earth pony with a spear-tackle, and picked him up, carrying him with me and using him to break the large glass window we were aiming for.

With a smash of expensive panoramic glass, I pushed him outside, and kept going; the elements themselves were a reflection of my anguish, rain beginning to fall in torrents, thunder splitting the sky as if the gods themselves were shouting approval. We shot across the garden, and kept going to a smaller building with an equally large window; unlike the main building, it was dark, not in use for the party.

I punched a hole in that window, too, using Marble as my glass-breaker. We tumbled inside, in a storm of glass and rain, my momentum no longer sufficient to keep two ponies in the air, and I rolled, getting to my hooves as Marble coughed and wheezed.

“Where’s the light-switch?” I demanded, water dripping from my mane and wings, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks, Shatter. I want to see your face.”

I didn’t wait or look for a response, finding a switch and throwing it. With a snap of energy, lights flickered to life throughout the room, illuminating a tastefully Spartan room with fine tiled flooring, lined with the broken marble statues and shattered works of art I’d heard so much about. Rain blew in through the broken window, forming a puddle of glass shards and water on the ground, Marble lying on the ground at the foot of a tall, velvet-draped object in the middle of the room, panting hard, blood trickling down his face.

“Please... forgive me...” he begged. “It was... I was wrong...”

“Don’t ask me for forgiveness,” I spat, approaching him for the final time. “You’ll find none. But you can ask Sarah for hers, if they’ll let you into the afterlife, you son of a bitch!”

I raised a hoof, and he recoiled, leaning on the velvet drape, and pulling it down. My eye flicked to the movement involuntarily, and froze on what it revealed, my hoof fixed in the air.

“Sarah,” I breathed, water dripping from my coat as I slowly turned my head to look at the statue, my hoof gently lowering onto the ground.

Towering above me, a statue twice as tall as I was; the drape slid off its shoulders, revealing the full form.

When we’d gone out for dinner earlier that fateful night, she’d apologized for showing up in sneakers, jeans and a t-shirt, even though I’d only gone to a similar level of trouble in wearing my leather jacket and my own jeans and sneakers; I’d said it was nothing, and that she could make anything look good.

It had been the truth – she made everything look good, and here she was; carved from marble, every detail captured in perfection. She looked radiant, her beauty carrying over from when she’d been alive to now. The statue’s hair billowing in an eternal breeze, eyes smiling as much as her mouth, which seemed to be on the verge of saying something... my mouth moved as I tried to work out the words she was saying.

I love you.

I choked, and Marble scooted back a little as I sunk to my knees, old wounds of grief opened anew.

“I know... I know saying sorry can’t bring her back,” Marble said quietly. “I would do whatever it took to make it right... but I can’t. I was a bad person.”

I tore my gaze from Sarah’s visage, and looked at the statues lining the walls. Marble noticed.

“I could never get it right. I swore I would do nothing else and take no money until I got it right. I had to become better, make it right.”

The statues... legs, trunks, all near-identical; some had different poses; in others, she was wearing different clothes.

“I couldn’t forget her face. She’s haunted my life, my dreams; the life I’ve taken has taken over mine. I’ve regretted it ever since...”

“...why?” I choked, looking back to the final statue, and then to the base, where the plinth that was its base supported the art, and a title picked out in stone.

Penance

“I had to make it right,” whispered Marble. “She showed me with just one look what I took from you, and I had to give it back the only way I knew how. The only way I could.”

I touched a hoof to the stone figure of my affections, and a tear fell from my eyes.

“It still wouldn’t be enough, I know,” Marble continued. “I never intended to do irreparable damage; things like purses can always be replaced, right? I just...” Marble sighed. “I was wrong, and cruel. I had to become a pony to see that. And now I’ve taken something that could never be replaced - the greatest crime of all.”

He stood up, walking over to a nearby wooden desk, and picking up a chisel, looked at me. “If you want to finish this, I won’t stop you. I believe I deserve it.”

The chisel skittered across the tiles as he kicked it towards me, chipping slivers of stone away as the blade clipped raises in the stone, and came to a rest next to my hoof, handle first. I looked at it, then at Marble.

“All I ask is that you forgive me. Not now, but... some time.” The regret in Marble’s voice was genuine; just like the care that had been put into Sarah’s visage.

“I... will never forgive you,” I stated, getting up, and picking up the chisel, my hoof sliding through the guard and gripping it. “I will never forget you.”

I crossed the room, and Marble began to tremble in fear as I stood before him – but true to his word, he remained still to face what he had coming to him. I raised the chisel.

“I have forgotten Sarah.”

The chisel carved an arc through the air, and it hit home with the cold chunk of hard steel hitting hard, organic material.

Judgment passed.