The Conversion Bureau – Mirror Match

A story loosely set in Blaze's Conversion Bureau universe, By Silvertie

Chapter 8 - Wheels Within Wheels

Rai's Chew Shop. Not surprisingly run by one Mr. Rai, it was... well, like I said to my mother - a bit of a dive. A Chinese restaurant, it did nothing to try and change the stereotype. Big round tables, red lined with gold, tea, and the big platters of food that occasionally you simply didn’t want to ask what part of what animal it was.

Don't get me wrong - when I say dive, I mean it. But the food itself is another thing entirely. The restaurant and the food look (and on occasion, smell) quite dissuading. But once you get past that grimy, greasy and sometimes unidentifiable exterior, you find food that is wholesome, filling, and tasty.

And it was here that we were meating my-our parents. I'm sorry, did I say "meating"? I meant "meeting". As a pony, your stomach undergoes quite a re-gearing. The smell of meat alone is often enough to turn even the hardiest of equines. At the very least, it becomes a focal point. Like now.

As an ex-human patron of Rai's fine establishment, I had conflicting feelings about the place. My nose detected fine eatables, and set my brain for "tasty". My gut had other ideas, however, and sought to make it's opinions known by internal-organ-interpretive-dance and contortionism.

“Oooo,” I groaned, “I dunno if this was such a good idea.”

“Yeah, Dice,” Duke nodded, “You’re lookin’ a little green. Well, greener than usual.”

“You’re a laugh riot,” I rolled my eyes. We were still a whole block away, but it was a testament to the power of Rai’s cooking that we could smell the stuff from here.

“Apparently you’re not too sick to snark.”

I reached out with my magic, and gave my human counterpart a solid clip around the back of the head. Duke stumbled forward, cursing in mock-pain.

“You cheeky son of a bitch.”

“Pot calling the kettle black.”

Duke opened his mouth to retort, and shut it as he looked past me and frowned. I twigged, and looked around, seeing nothing; an empty service lane, lined with graffiti-decorated fence, grubby once-white buildings with loading docks, and containing nothing but oily puddles, dirty concrete and discarded crates.

“Hey, Dice? I’ll meet you there,” he suggested, staring off into the alleyway absent-mindedly. “You have a talk to our folks and see if you can explain our situation, I wanna go check something out.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Alright. Don’t be too long, okay?” I jabbed Duke in the chest with telekinesis. “If you piss around just to make breaking the news more awkward; I swear to god, I will shit in your bed.”

“Don’t want that,” Duke grunted. “See you in ten.”

I watched Duke detour down the service lane, and my mane began to itch. Something was up, but... what? I shook my head, and carried on walking. If there was something up, Duke would tell me... right? Why would I keep secrets from someone who was, effectively, myself?

======

I strode briskly down the lane, a shallow puddle splashing gently as my foot clipped it. I spared a glance over my shoulder, to see that Dice had taken me at my undoubtedly questionable word. Why was I deceiving him, though? First the serum, now this.

Curiosity. That seemed to be the root of this little lie. I drew nearer to one of the loading docks, the kind with space for two trucks at once with two separate doors, walking as quietly as I could. One of the rolling doors was open enough for a human to stand comfortably, the other still as shut as it could possibly be, with a rusty old padlock keeping the door down.

What was M doing in a loading dock? I was sure I’d seen her climbing in. And physical labour wasn’t her thing, for all her physical strength - something was up. I approached the right-hand open door, and pondered my next move.

A clattering sound from inside the loading dock got my attention; sounded like someone tripping over something. I poked my head around the corner, and saw her.

The dock was empty, just a few shelves left against the walls, and a door that was shut, directly opposite the dock itself. M was standing with her back to it, watching the open dock. She saw me, no question about it.

“M? What are you doing here?”

She didn’t respond, and my brow creased as I clambered up onto the concrete dock myself, pulling myself over the yellow-chevroned edge.

“M? You alright?”

Something touched my ear, and fell down; I looked to see a chocolate-brown feather drift down to land between my shoes, and looked up.

Holding a boxy device between two hooves, a dark brown pegasus with a black mane hovered above me; a stream of light from the device, going towards M, confused me... for about half a second.

“Aw shit,” I cursed, and looked back at M. Now that I looked, she was a little translucent to be real, and hadn’t said a thing. A hologram projector.

More movement, to my left; I turned to see an old crate; sturdy enough to easily support the white earth pony on top; he had a golden-colored tail, but that was all I was able to make out before the hind-legs perched in the air began to move.

I had enough time to lament the amount of concussions I’d received lately before hoof met jaw with a crunch, and I was thrown backwards; I was out cold before I even hit the ground.

======

The bell tinkled overhead as I pushed the door open, and a voice hailed me.

“Ah, hello!” A man leaned over the counter, startling me. “Ah, another pony! Which group is yours? The pegasi or the unicorns and normal ponies?”

I jumped a little. Mr. Rai hadn’t changed, he always did have that... knack for sneaking up on folks. Usually at the right time. Judging by what he said, my family must already be here. I nodded, and steeled myself, preparing to break the news.

“Uh, the pegasi. That’d be the people I’m looking for, I think.”

“Very good!” Mr. Rai nodded enthusiastically, “Come, this way, I bring you pony menu!”

“Pony menu?” I asked, curious.

“Yes, pony menu!” Rai nodded, giving me one of the namesake booklets; I took it, and unfolded it. “All vegetable, no meat! Easy for you!”

He was right. The vegan dishes that I had scorned for so long, dotted throughout the regular menu, had been collated into one tidy list; one entry caught my eye.

“Tofu chicken feet. Seriously?”

“Very good, you like!” Rai said, enthusiastically, and I put up a hoof.

“No, no, I get that. What I don’t get is why you make... tofu chicken feet.”

“You never have chicken feet, yes?”

“Uh... yeah.” I nodded. I couldn’t recall a time when I’d ever eaten such a thing.

“You leave the chicken feet,” Rai said, patting me on the shoulder gently, “The chicken feet no leave you. Very big in China.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Rai.”

“Ah, you know me?” Rai seemed surprised, and I realized his problem. Just like most humans, he had problems identifying ponies - I knew I was guilty of such a thing. It was hardly an easy thing as a human to tell individual ponies apart when they didn’t really matter to you, without relying heavily on looking at a lot of flanks.

I was really going to have to re-think how I dealt with folks after this.

“Yeah, ex-customer.”

“Oh, I so sorry!” Rai seemed genuinely upset. Did it really mean that much to him that he recognize an ex-customer? Perhaps I should have stayed silent.

“That’s okay, I wouldn’t have picked me for a ex-human, anyway. Just over here?”

“Yes, I bring tea soon.” Rai bowed a little, and hastened away to the kitchen; I looked at my destination; a table with three ponies already seated around the table, scrutinizing their own pony-designed menus. I swallowed.

No time like the present. I stepped up to the table, and calmly pulled out a chair for myself, and sat down, looking at the other ponies.

My family. To my left, my father - these days, going by the name Snow Flake, to match his cutie mark and talent for designing such things. A pegasus of purple and blue, he was one of the main reasons my family lived in Cloudsdale; a one-time circuit-board designer, he’d transitioned well from the world of electronics to snowflake design, and was rewarded handsomely for his skill.

Across from me, my mother, Gold Leaf - Orange-coated, green-maned and winged, she had a talent not often seen in pegasi, for print work - embossing, and indeed, gold leaf. Likewise, she made a tidy sum in her work creating official letterhead for quite a few cloudsdale-based companies.

And on my right, my sister; Glitter Flake. I felt a little jealous - she’d wound up her two favorite colors in the world, pink and purple. She took more after my father’s work, and had a knack for making snowflakes that glittered and refracted light through a room. Far too precious for standard snowfall, but on occasions where fancy events coincided with scheduled snowfall, she was a godsend.

And right now, all three of them were looking at me a little confused. A stranger sits down at your table - understandable.

“Hi,” Glitter said, “Can we help you?”

“Uh...” I coughed. “Guess who. Three guesses, first two don’t count. Go.”

“Duke?” Gold leaned in a little closer, and her eyes widened. “Oh my baby; you got ponified?”

“It’s Dice these days, mum,” I nodded. “Sorry I didn’t tell you...”

Snow just looked pensive, thinking his reaction over before speaking in a calm, soothing voice. “How long ago?”

“A couple of days,” I reassured. “Not long. It was... an impulse.”

Silence filled the air, broken only by the sounds of people at other tables having their own lunches; not many ponies in this crowd, barely a dozen ponies, if that; still mostly humans. I guessed the scent that lingered around the place didn’t do much for equine palettes.

“So, how’s the weather treating you guys?” I asked brightly, breaking the silence. “Not too overworked?”

“You don’t know the half of it, Du- Dice,” Snow shook his head, rubbing his mane. “This winter’s unusually chilly, calls for a lot of snow.”

“Why are you a unicorn?” Glitter blurted.

I opened and shut my mouth again in thought. That was actually a really good question. All my immediate family were pegasi. And here I was, the odd-one-out with a horn and no wings. Could it have been the way I was ponified? Or something more?

“I have no idea,” I lied. “Just drank the potion, and woke up like this.”

“Well, you be careful, okay?” Gold said, leaning forward a little. “I hear the Human Liberation Front has been acting up lately, I don’t want to hear that you’ve been hurt... or worse, okay? If you were a pegasus and could just fly away, I wouldn’t be so worried, but...”

“I get it, mum,” I waved a hoof, “Relax. I’m sure the rumors are greatly exaggerated.”

“Where’s our tea?” Glitter asked, as if realizing something. “Mr. Rai’s not usually this slow. I’m sure half the challenge way back when was stopping him refilling our teacups. Remember, Dice?”

Something twigged, and my eyebrow twitched. I really hoped that Duke was coming soon, so we could get out of here. I listened, my ear flicking slightly. The sounds of the other group of ponies across the restaurant eating filled the air, but an unsettling lack of mastication from most of the human-occupied tables.

“I don’t think we’re getting any tea.”

The snick of guns filled the air, and my gut churned as my family’s eyes went wide, and they put their hooves up. I didn’t move.

“There’s one right behind me, isn’t there?”

“Hands up, horner!” a slap around the back of my head from an unseen hand, and I obliged, sticking my forehooves up in the air slowly. “Check those unicorns,” the voice behind me continued, “Shoot ‘em in the leg or something if they try anything!”

I heard the drone of a small colt crying start up, and cringed - bad timing. From what I heard, the HLF weren’t exactly tolerant of people talking back, let alone small children crying..

“You! Stop crying!” Angry stomping from a second voice crossed the room behind me, and I heard the crying stop abruptly, cut off by a slap, and dropping to a strangled gurgle.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” a mare cried out, only to be followed by a thump; I watched my mother’s eyes follow the action behind me, seeing traces of violence reflected in her eyes, and prayed for a miracle.

“I’ll give you something to snivel about, you little brat!” A loud ratcheting of slide on gun, and I shut my own eyes. Didn’t want to hear it.

“Hey!” the voice behind me shouted, “Knock it off!”

“Can’t I just-” An exasperated sigh. “Can’t I just make an example of one little brat?”

“Can it! We only get money if they’re alive when he gets them, remember? He wants them fresh. Don’t shoot the prisoners!”

“You mean,” Snow said, carefully, “You’re not going to kill us?”

“‘course not!” the HLF man behind me said, cheerfully. “We’re not monsters. We’re going to sell you to a guy we know. And then he’s probably going to kill you. Now hold still, horner. Knockout blows are a science.”

I saw my family’s eyes go wide as I felt the butt of the gun strike me in the back of the head. I had time for one last thought:

Where in the world is Duke?

======

I came to, awash in a sea of light, head throbbing and sitting upright in a chair. I’d had better days, I was sure. A large spotlight sat right in front of me; I thought I could see a few shapes standing behind and next to it, but if there’s one thing the human eye can’t do, it’s see past that kind of light into darkness.

“Duke Cooper...” a refined voice spoke, one of the shapes behind the spotlight. “You’re a special man, aren’t you?”

I tried to move, to move my arms, and found it quite impossible; the combination of old, wooden, plain chair and firm rope had me bound fast. I recalled movies I’d seen in the past, where the hero managed to escape such situations by way of brute force, or cunning acrobatics; my legs were free, there was nothing stopping me running around like some sort of chair-human hybrid chicken.

Problem was, that’s about all I could do, run around; perhaps a gym regimen was on the cards, if I survived. Some lifting, perhaps some bulking up. Cardio. Gods knew I neglected that - hopefully not terminally.

I gave up on the chair, and decided to play along. “Special how?”

“You know,” a second, much more greasy voice said, “When we pop folks with r92-b, we usually get just... two results. A dead human, or a living pony.”

“And in your case,” refined said, “You’ve... bucked the trend, to use the phrase. Human and alive. And we’re quite sure you don’t have an identical twin.”

“You sure about that?” I grinned, pitching my tone at what I hoped was that of a man who still had cards up his sleeve.

It paid off, even if only briefly - apparently my captors hadn’t done their homework. Or at least, they only knew half the story.

“No... we’re sure you don’t have a twin,” greasy countered. “We know you have a unicorn room-mate, but you do not have a human twin. You can’t fool us twice.”

I shut up - they thought Dice was just my roomie. I knew a card up my sleeve when I saw it - perhaps not an ace, more like a jack. Or an eight. Aces were stuff like-

I shifted in my seat, focusing on the long, thin object beneath my buttock, and resisted the urge to smile. Twilight’s serum, the one she’d sent me. I still had it! I didn’t know what it would do, and whatever it was, it’d probably hurt like hell, but...

“...Hey, you listening?” Greasy sounded irritated. “Pay attention, before I just skip to popping you again.”

“Listening,” I reassured. I didn’t want to get popped a second time.

“I was saying, you tell us how you did it,” Greasy pressed. “How’d you just walk off that serum? We got you in the neck, no question about it!”

“‘m just lucky, I guess,” I lied, rolling my jaw. It still hurt, but when you get kicked in the face by a pony, I guess that happens.

“Luck doesn’t-” Refined stopped abruptly as the door crashed open.

“Shield,” a silhouette standing in the doorway said quickly, “Hate to break up your little interrogation, but we got trouble. police scanner says HLF are on the warpath.”

“Shield?” I tilted my head, recalling the only other pony with a name like that that I’d heard of. “Illuminating Shield?”

“Oh, hayseed,” Refined swore, affirming my guess. “Thanks a lot, Ironshod. Now he knows our name, and we gotta make sure he stays silent, permanently.”

“Ironshod?” My jaw dropped. “Oh, no. You’re not...”

The silhouette sighed, and reached out with a haze of magic to hit the light switch. I blinked and shook my head as the initial blinding of light wore off.

To answer my unfinished question: yes. Yes she was. Ironshod of Buttershod Emporium.

“Ironshod, why?” I asked, sighing. “You seemed like such a nice person. What would Buttercup say?”

“He’d say what I told him to say,” snorted Ironshod. “You think I do this because I want to? You tried making ends meet with... a toilet emporium? In Equestria, maybe. But moving out here to the human lands to sell toilets? Not happening, and Buttercup knows it.”

The greasy brown pegasus hovered into the air, and thumped a hoof into the other hoof. “She ain’t a bad shot, neither. And they say you can’t buy a markspony for love nor money...”

“I’ll confess,” Ironshod said, walking up to me, “I was concerned when I saw M punching you. I never miss, and I hit you in the neck, no two ways about it. But that was all in the past - you’re walkin’, and I didn’t have a beef with you. Illuminating Shield and Chocolate Cake there had other ideas, though, and here we are.”

“Honey?” Buttercup’s voice drifted through the door. “Ironshod? You okay back there?”

“Uh, yeah!” Ironshod called back. “Gimme a few moments, hon!” She turned back to Shield. “Scanner says, Rai’s Chew Shop got hit, bunch of ponyfolk abducted. Owner claims to have hidden in the coldroom when it happened. Go ask questions, bang some heads.”

“Rai’s Chew Shop?!” I exclaimed. “Dice is there! My family!”

“Family?” Shield frowned. “Your family have been ponified?”

“Yeah, moved to Cloudsdale, came back here for a visit,” I nodded, and looked to Ironshod.

“That’s true,” she collaborated, “I did hear something about a mother visiting.”

“Please,” I begged. “You gotta let me help you. Somehow.”

Shield looked pensive. “Fine. I was just gonna have Cake throw you off a tall building, but I guess you can come along; I hope you can act, for your sakes.”

My heart skipped a beat. What was Dice going through? What was I going to do about it?

======

I came to in the back of a truck. It was pitch black, and I couldn’t see a thing, but I knew it was a truck, on account of how I could hear the engine and feel the movement.

I reached out with my magic, and felt around, feeling somepony else, who jumped.

“Hey! Watch where you’re puttin’ that!”

“Whoops, sorry.” I stopped feeling around, and instead lit up my horn; our temporary prison was square and large. Yep, that was a truck, alright. And lined up near the walls, everypony else.

I spotted my family slumped against the far wall, near the exit, and next to me in the back was a tan pegasus who looked a bit irritated, on account of the braces pinning his wings to his sides. Not one of my family.

“That’s rude, don’tcha know,” he muttered, “Here’s a tip, newfoal; don’t go feelin’ up other ponies, it sends the wrong message.”

“My bad.” I looked around, shadows dancing with the movement of my horn; a good ten to twelve ponies were in this truck, all of them unconscious; I was awake first purely by merit of taking a sleeper hit first, I guessed.

“Welp,” the pegasus snorted. “Name’s Chord Thorn, professional adventurer; not that it matters much now, who knows where we’re going, right?”

I looked at my only other conscious companion; a pegasus of tan and with a green mane, he definitely looked like he’d seen his share of adventure; the light of my golden magic picked out the odd scar in his coat, and a large one that zig-zagged down his face, crossing one of his eyes, which remained a milky white.

“Dice Roller,” I introduced. “Just call me Dice. And how did you know I was a newfoal?”

“Thorn’ll do me,” he nodded. “And how did I know? Let’s start with your lack of knowledge about ettiquite. Never seen ponyfolk behave quite like somepony what used to be human. My ma, bless her soul, didn’t give me much in the physical department, but she brought me up proper, manners and all.”

“Sorry,” I apologized again. “So, what’s happened? I’ve... been out of it.”

“I’ll say.” Thorn chuckled. “They got you good, and your little friends, too. Watched ‘em load up the truck with you lot.”

“Did they get you somewhere else?” I asked, curious.

“Aye.” Thorn nodded. “Nabbed me as I was makin’ my way out of an abandoned airfield south of here - musta set off some silent alarm or somethin’. I hate human traps, so much harder than ancient Equestrian ones. Give me a hallway of spears any day.”

“I hope it was worth it, whatever you found,” I muttered.

“Sorta was, I guess,” Thorn mused. “Found a lot of crates; newer stuff than there shoulda’ been, given that the airfield’s abandoned and stuff.”

“Smuggling?” I guessed.

“Nah, smuggling’s when it’s all happening on the down-low. This is all legit, official certificates of lading and all.” Thorn twirled a hoof in the air to make his point. “Someone’s playing a very dark game. I was seeing descriptions in English like ‘munitions, 5.56mm x 20,000’ and such. One or two stamps saying ‘US Millitary Surplus’. I know humans love their war, but that’s an awful lot of war toys.”

“You could have been snooping around one of the local HLF stashes,” I guessed. “It’d explain the silent alarm.”

“Could do. Except the guys who picked me up weren’t HLF,” Thorn countered.

“And how did you deduce that, Thorn?”

“We ain’t dead. HLF don’t want live ponies. We’re goin’ somewhere, alright, and it probably ain’t the nearest bureau or Equestria proper, that’s for sure.”