“So...” I said slowly, looking from the mash of cables and other parts to the book and back again, “according to this, one of its sensor modules has blown… and according to those readings,” I added, glancing at my PipBuck, which was connected to the robot's access panel, “the spark battery’s energy levels are really low…”

I sighed and took a step back, massaging my temples. Though I was second to none when it came to healing ponies, repairing robots continued to prove a difficult task. And, according to this TLC Squared: “Tender Loving Care for Totally Lost Causes" I bought from Forty Caps, this Mister Handy wasn’t a too complicated robot to fix. Well, compared to some other models at least...

In the two weeks since I began my partnership with Apple Core, our small drug cartel had proven to be quite successful. Definitely much more successful than my attempts in fixing the maintenance robot. Or my research, I remarked bitterly. As there wasn’t any way for ponies of Appleloosa to acquire drugs, other than waiting for the train from New Appleloosa, we had plenty of customers. As we didn’t want to alert Black Widow, Apple Core would sell only a few doses of Dash, Buck, or whatever it was the specific pony wanted, every few days. That way, the risk of a pony being under the drug influence for too long a period of time or, Goddesses forbid, overdose, was practically non-existent. Of course, the whole process was monotonous, but it allowed us to gain quite a bit of caps over the time. Even after dividing the shares between us, I was left with enough to allow myself a few luxuries - like this book I had hoped would help me to finally fix the former hospital’s robot - while still retaining caps for my trip to New Appleloosa.

As for Apple Core, I believe she had spent most of her share on alcohol.

Returning to the subject of the eventual trip, I was still not certain whether I would go or not. Or, if I could go. Black Widow would probably not like if her only medic would leave for a day or longer. Because of that, I decided that I would first determine if I really need to go to New Appleloosa; as much as I was curious to see new places and possibly get a chance to meet that pegasus, I could wait until my position was more secure.

That being said, the train from New Appleloosa would arrive today, and since there was a slim chance that I would be leaving with it, I needed this robot to be up and running. After all, I couldn’t let my dear subject die of starvation, could I?

I flipped the pages of the book, looking for a specific passage. I had hoped I could repair Mister Handy, but I didn’t have the parts for it. If I don’t have the parts to fix it, then I will have to… cheat, I thought as I stopped.

The TLC Squared: “Tender Loving Care for Totally Lost Causes" was a book about mechanics in general; it had only one chapter dedicated to robots. Luckily for me, this one chapter also covered the subject of making the robot work when it’s damaged.

“Alright…” I said outloud, my eyes going back and forth between the book and my PipBuck, “since few of the primary electronic systems seem to be fully functional, and the redundant systems are all working, if I reroute its power output to bypass some of the primary systems, the secondary systems should compensate enough to make it work!” I finished, clapping my hooves in excitement.

Without wasting any more time, I started poking in the robot’s programming to make it work. While I was at it, I also changed its settings, so that it would obey me and not consider me as an intruder in the hospital. For whatever reason, every Mister Handy was built with a small saw blade at the end of one arm and a blowtorch on another. Maybe it was supposed to incinerate dirt? Either way, I had no desire for it to use either of those weapons on me.

On a whim, instead of reprogramming it completely (which wouldn’t have been too hard; years of hiding my experiments from other Stable dwellers hadn’t been possible without messing with PipBuck tags, hacking into security systems, and changing medical records), I simply registered myself as the hospital’s new (and currently only) doctor.

I smirked. “Well, let’s see how it went,” I whispered as I pressed the “activate” option on my PipBuck. I quickly pulled the cable connected to Mister Handy and backed away.

The robot came alive shortly after. It rose to the air as its levitation talisman kicked in, stretched out its three mechanical limbs, and turned around as its three cameras focused on me. “Good morning, Doctor Angel,” said an oddly cheerful sounding mechanical voice, emerging from the robots speakers. “How may I be of assistance?”

Inside, I was gleeful. On the outside, I managed to stay calm. “Good morning, sweetie,” I greeted Mister Handy. “Could you please identify yourself, and then run a diagnostic scan of your systems? A very basic one?” I added, not wanting to prolong this moment any more than necessary.

“Of course, Ma’am. I am Mister Handy Type-I model robot, designated as ‘Janitor’, serial number MH10001.” Janitor then fell silent, at least his voice. His body emitted a few clicking noises. “My diagnostic scan suggests that I require repairs; I am running at minimum capacity.”

“But you will be functional for several days, right?”

“Of course, Ma’am. However, I would implore you to call technical support.”

“I will at the closest possible convenience.” When the Equestrian Wasteland becomes the fertile and prospering land of Equestria again. “Now-”

“Ma’am, if you’d excuse me,” the Janitor interrupted me, “according to my internal clock, I’ve been offline for over one hundred ninety-eight years, seven months, twelve days, nineteen hours and two minutes.”

“Yes, that sounds about right,” I said, confused.

“May I ask if the patient that had damaged me by accident had safely given birth since then?”

My eyes widened. “Those… damages that caused you to cease functioning were caused by a mare during birth?”

After helping deliver several foals back in Stable Eight, I knew that mares could get… violent during birth, but since the Janitor's casing wasn’t dented or fractured, I was certain it was something internal that had disabled him. Now, if that had been a unicorn, I could understand, but from several friendly chats in the saloon I knew this was an earth pony town.

“Actually, this happened during one of the patient’s control visits,” the robot replied to my question; it sounded a bit embarrassed. “I believe I must have startled her when I came to take out the trash. It was a busy day, you see, and that visit hadn’t been scheduled, so I didn’t know-”

“Alright, calm down, I’m sure you hadn’t meant interrupting the patient’s visit,” I assured him. “And as for her, I’m sorry, sweetie, but the previous doctor failed to show me old medical records. As such, I cannot tell you what became of her and the baby.”

Regardless, chances are they both died in balefire...

Shaking my head, I turned my thoughts to focus back on the more important issues. “I am sure the hospital provided the best possible care for them. Now, lets get back to the present, shall we? Are you able to perform nurse’s duties? We are short on hooves at the moment.”

“Of course, Ma’am. Although I would prefer to resume my normal duties; this place is a mess.” My brows furrowed. This robot is going to be Mom all over again… “I fear to guess in what state the ground floor and upper floors are.”

Are its probability algorithms capable of predicting that the upper floors had been blown up?

“I’ll make a note of that, but for now you are confined to the basement level. And it’s not a mess, it’s organized chaos, so don’t you dare move anything,” I told him sternly, before smiling sweetly again. “There is only one patient here, but he requires special attention. For his own safety, he has to be tied down and fed. Are you capable of feeding a patient, as well as giving him his medication?” I asked, pointing at the canned food and syringes I’ve prepared on the table.

“But of course, Ma’am,” the robot replied. I could almost hear the pride in its voice. “I might not be one of those fancy medical bots with their medical spell matrixes, but I have been programmed to be able to perform basic nursing duties.”

“Great. I might be leaving tomorrow, so I would need you to look after him. How about you demonstrate me your skills?” I asked, turning to Cutter’s “cell” and opening it.

The time Cutter had spend under my care was not doing well for his complexion. His gray coat became paler, and he was thinner. His muscles had began to deteriorate due to lack of movements, with which the small size of the basement’s cell I kept him had nothing to do with. Cutter was still chained to the same table I chained him to over two weeks ago when I dug him up. The only difference was that, in order for the table to fit into the cell, as well as in interest of hygiene, I moved it to stand vertically. Had to tighten his shackles, but now he could defecate straight to the bucket below him.

He grunted unhappily as I entered his cell. “Good morning Cutter, how are you doing today? Oh come now, you could be a little more optimistic,” I said as he failed to respond. “I feed you, clean you, and from time to time I leave you the radio. I haven’t even started any experiments on you yet. You could at least reply.”

While I had, more or less, decided to start testing the formula I theorized would create a truth serum, I hadn’t had the time to prepare samples. Most of my time was divided between caring for ponies and creating drugs to increase my income. Not to mention that I had to create a supply of spellbane potions for my subject.

Besides, it wouldn’t really be a scientific experiment with only one test subject. I would need a proper control group, made out of - preferably - ten ponies. Once I deal with New Appleloosa, I should probably start thinking about acquiring more subjects… Preferably some earth ponies. Oh, I cannot wait to see if a transplant would work between a unicorn and earth pony!

Though I wouldn’t call that an improvement, my words at least coaxed Cutter into replying. “When are you going to let me go?” he asked, his voice rusty, tired, and weak. I frowned a little, stomped and tilted my head. Cutter grimaced, but added: “Mistress?”

“We’ve been over this, Cutter,” I said once again; what was that, fourth time? “You have to address me properly, and seeing what I plan to do to you, you cannot exactly call me ‘Doctor’. Mistress is the only acceptable term.”

“Excuse me, Doctor Angel,” Janitor's robotic voice came from behind me. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to,” I said, turning back, before addressing Cutter again. “It so happens that you might be deprived of my company for some time. That is why I’ve made sure you will be taken care of well when I am gone. Janitor,” I turned to the robot, “please feed the patient.”

“What the... where the hell did you get that thing?” Cutter asked, panic in his voice, as the Mister Handy entered the room.

“Why, it was under the clinic the whole time,” I said, standing by the wall to make room for Janitor. I was slightly confused by Cutter’s sudden fright, but I understood the moment the robot started to open the can with its saw blade. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetie, he’s just going to feed you and give you-”

I was cut off by the sharp sound of metal being cut. Maybe I should have asked Janitor to do that outside, I pondered, noticing that Cutter’s panic increased.

“Get that thing away from me!” he shouted, shaking in his shackles.

“Sweetie, calm down,” I said, trotting closer to him. Janitor, who, as the lack of that awful noise indicated, had managed to open the can, stayed back, its programming probably realizing that it had done something wrong and letting me take care of that. I rose on my hind legs so that my and Cutter’s eyes would be on the same level as I extended a hoof to his cheek in calming gesture. “I assure you, nothing is-”

I stopped talking as his horn began to glow.

For what felt like a lifetime, all I could do was stare at his horn while a maelstrom of thoughts exploded in my head. His horn is glowing! Why is his horn glowing?! Is he casting a spell?! It cannot be, the dosage I gave him yesterday should still be in his system! But his horn is glowing! How is he doing that?!

The next heartbeat, I was flying backwards, a whoosh of air in my ears and blinding pain in my cheek. I screamed in pain as I landed on the floor, the taste of my own blood on my tongue, crawling away as Janitor injected Cutter with spellbane potion while saying: “Please refrain from harming the hospital personnel!”

I let my magic sweep over my face to let me know how serious the wound was. Despite how painful it felt, it wasn’t very bad. I had a deep gash on my cheek. Cutter’s conjured scalpel pierced it and left about three inches long cut. I cast a healing spell, mending the wound and removing the pain.

I released the breath I had been holding. Though the pain was gone, the shock made it hard for me to focus. It took me a moment to realize that Janitor was hovering next to me, asking if I was okay.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” I said, raising slowly. I was starting to get my breathing back under control. There was still blood in my mouth, though it didn’t really bother me; I knew I hadn’t lost enough of it to be alarmed, and I liked its taste. I licked the inside of my cheek clean and swallowed, contemplating what to do. “I’m… impressed,” I finally said, turning to Cutter. The unicorn was shaking from mild pain, an aftereffect of being injected with spellbane potion that lasted about ten to twenty seconds. “The spellbane potion stays in a pony’s body for twenty four hours, and the unicorn should still be unable to cast spells within the hour after it disperses. And yet you managed to direct your magic and give it the shape of a scalpel. Have you started to form some sort of resistance to it? Or are unicorns of Equestrian Wasteland more resistant to it than unicorns of Stable Eight?”

My voice didn’t quiver, which I was a bit proud of. I wasn’t certain if I sounded as interested as usual, but Cutter probably couldn’t tell.

“Though to be honest, what I am the most interested in right now,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “is what you had intended to do. Judging by the height on which my head was when I backed away as you cut me, and the distance… I would say that you had planned to separate my head from my body. My, how horrible!” I exclaimed, raising my hoof to my lips. “To cut the head of a young maiden such as me… have you no heart?”

My horn lit up as I asked that question. Magic reached for Cutter and within three seconds, the chained unicorn started to twitch violently, his eyes bulged while he tried to catch breath as my spell stopped his heart from beating.

“No, it’s there,” I said, stopping the spell. Cutter’s chains clinked as he winced and exhaled heavily. “Oh well, the Wasteland is a ruthless place. And it’s not like I was in real danger,” I lied.

Cutter chuckled. “Y-yeah, you screamed like a filly for funzies,” he said, still shaken after my Heart Attack Spell.

I smiled. “Just because I cannot die from something like this, sweetie, doesn’t mean that I cannot feel pain. But you don’t have to believe me,” I said, once again nearing him and raising on my hind legs. I pressed my forehooves on the vertical table for leverage, one on each side of Cutter’s head. “When I’ll cut your head off,” I said quietly, conjuring a scalpel of magical energy of my own, “take it into my hooves, and turn it around so that you will see your headless body, you will know I am speaking truth. As well as finally realizing that I hold your life in my hooves,” I added, barely stopping myself from giggling at the thought of how literal that would be.

Cutter’s face became white as milk. “N-n-no… Wha… B-b-b-but you said you wouldn’t kill me!”

I leaned back a bit, tilting my head in surprise. “Who said anything about killing you? I am going to sew you back together after the lesson.”

“That’s impossible!” he shouted, his eyes wide as plates.

This time I did giggle. “Oh, sweetie… Do you know what saying we had back in Stable Eight?” I asked, leaning closer to him again. Our eyes, mine red and quiet and his brown, bloodshot and panicked, were inches apart as I whispered: “‘If something seems impossible, it’s only because nopony invented the spell to do it’.” I giggled again. “Various spells had been researched for almost two hundred years in Stable Eight by the time I started studying medicine; what I am going to demonstrate now wouldn’t even rate in the top ten,” I told him, pressing the red blade to Cutter’s neck.

My horn’s glow became brighter as red aura enveloped my subject’s whole body… and it dispersed as my PipBuck began to ring.

I turned to look at it, surprised. “Oh, it’s that late?” I said; repairing Janitor must have been more time consuming that I had thought. No wonder Cutter had managed to shake off the aftereffects of the spellbane potion enough to cast a single spell. “It would appear that we must reschedule our lesson,” I said, turning to the unicorn as I turned off the PipBuck’s alarm. Despite being saved, he still looked as if about to lose control of his bladder. One would think that as a medic he would be thrilled to gain such experience. “I have an appointment. Don’t worry, I will visit you again before the day is over.

“Feed him, then lock the door,” I told Janitor, walking away from the cell. “Afterwards, I would appreciate it if you would enter sleep mode; I want you to save your energy until you are repaired.”

“Of course, Ma’am,” the robot replied obediently.

I closed the door behind me, not interested in listening to Cutter begging Janitor for help (which had no chance of working), and finally sighed. “That was too close,” I muttered quietly.

Though adrenaline rush was over, my heart was still beating faster than it normally would. I could still recall the searing pain in my cheek, when I’d close my eyes I could imagine how I must have looked like with that cut… I looked around my laboratory, trying to focus on something so that I would stop thinking about that incident. Pots, with drugs, on turned off hot plates, shelves with medicines, terminal on desk… her.

I frowned eyeing the Fluttershy statuette. “You think I unnecessarily scared him like that, don’t you?” From time to time, I imagined that the statuette was the real Mare of the Ministry of Peace. Her eyes were so expressionate that I always felt like I knew what she’d say if she was here. “You think I should have been nicer. He almost killed me!” I hissed, coming closer to it. “He wanted to cut my head off!”

But it’s your fault he’s here. You’ve imprisoned him! And plan to do Celestia knows what!

I snorted at the imagined response. “He’s here because his boyfriend is a murderer, among some other things. And do you seriously think his comfort or life are more important than that of everypony who would benefit from my research?”

You mean you?

The eyes of the little statuette bored into my soul. I tried to stare it down, wondering how anypony could make such a seemingly realistic toy, before I finally shook my head, losing interest.

I glanced at the set of syringes next to the statuette. Each had a dosage of spellbane potion. The were so many different medicaments in the basement’s storage that preparing them wasn’t too much of a problem.

It wasn’t exactly my invention; with a Stable full of unicorns, there had to be some countermeasures against magic. The spell security ponies learn, the one that enables them to dispel magic, was one. Another was the spellbane potion, which after drinking would make the pony release enzymes affecting their nerve cells, causing a reaction throughout the nerve system up to the horn, completely disabling the casting of spells… for an hour. My version, applied directly to the bloodstream, lasted much longer.

It should last for a week… Janitor shouldn’t have problems, I concluded, finally turning towards the door. Let’s see now… in about an hour, the train from New Appleloosa should arrive. I will go see what sort of goods they’d bring for trading, and then…

I bit my lip, pondering, as I exited the basement. I really, really wanted to go, even if I’d manage to assure I would receive supplies for my little drug cartel regularly. I wanted to see a another town, some more of the world, new ponies (Especially that pegasus...). But how could I convince Black Widow to let me go? I was the medic of Appleloosa. Even if there are no slaves for me to heal, an emergency can always happen.

All of the slaves were sent to Fillydelphia a few days ago. Black Widow would have sent them sooner, but she was waiting for Butcher to get back from his “patrol” around the slavers territory with his group, hoping he had captured some travelers. However, there was still no sight of him, so as she sent Cracker to deliver slaves to Fillydelphia, she also sent Whip Crack to look for the missing ponies. From what Apple Core told me, it was rather unlikely that something bad happened to them. It could mean that they were being lazy, or chose to leave Appleloosa altogether. And the latter would mean that something terrible was definitely going to happen to them once Black Widow unleashed Khan.

I wonder when they are going to get back, I mused, as I closed the door to the basement and entered my clinic. My ear twitched when I heard hoofsteps coming from my room. “Apple Core?” I called out.

“‘Ere y'are!” the earth pony replied, coming out. “Where were ya-” Apple Core began, only to stop as she looked at me with wide eyes. “What the hell!? Why’s ‘ere blood on yar face!?”

“Blood?” I repeated, blinking, as my heart skipped a beat. How could I forget to clean my face?! “Oh… don’t worry; it’s my own,” I assured her as I turned towards bathroom to see the mirror.

I could almost hear Apple Core cringe in annoyance. “Alright, let me repeat: what the hell!?”

“There was a damaged Mister Handy robot in the basement,” I replied calmly. The mirror in the bathroom was as clean as everything else in it, but I could still see my reflection in it. My cheek and neck under it was covered in half-dried blood. I cast a Disinfection spell to remove it. “I tried to repair it. Do you know who thought it would be a smart idea to give those robots a sawblade?” I asked as I finished the spell. My coat was again pure white, and the blood landed in the sink.

Apple Core chuckled. “What, really? Ya did that to yarself tryin’ to fix a robot?” Her chuckle became a laugh; I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t ya supposed to be a genius?”

I looked at her, annoyed. “I am a doctor of medicine. I could probably ‘factorize’ a pony’s body and put it back together, with my eyes closed, but I cannot repair a broken robot without parts. And a proper blueprint.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get yar panties in a bunch. What ‘factorize’ means, anyway?”

“I was under the impression we were supposed to meet in Salt Block,” I said, ignoring the question. “Did something happen?”

“Ya hadn’t heard?” my companion looked at me with surprise. “Damn, how long ‘ave ya been down there? It’s all over town!”

“What, chlamydia?” I asked, frowning.

I suspected that it might be the case ever since over a week ago, when Apple Core came late to take my drugs to sell. “Sorry Ah’m late,” she had said, rubbing her eyes. “Stayed up late doing… things.”

“Yes, I can tell,” I had replied, wrinkling my nose; you could have smelled sex from her. “Honestly, it’s what, the sixth one since I’ve known you?”

“And seventh,” she have replied, making me raise my eyebrows. I hadn’t been sure if I should be concerned or intrigued. “What do ya care?”

“I’m just concerned about your health. What contraceptives do you use?”

“Conce-what?”

“Anticonception methods, birth control-” I had explained.

“Aaa... Ah make the guy pull out.”

I'd turned to her, shocked. “That… that’s it?” When Apple Core nodded, I had facehoofed and groaned: “Apple Core…”

“What?”

“Well, for starters, that doesn’t necessarily prevent you from getting pregnant.” As Apple Core stared at me in disbelief, I'd asked: “You know what precum is, right?”

“W- yeah, but ya can’t get pregnant from that!” she had retorted.

“Sweetie, I’m a doctor of medicine,” I had reminded her. “I’m afraid that yes, you can. In rare cases, it contains living sperm, so conception is possible”

Apple Core had grimaced. “Well… fuck. Wait! Ya said ‘rare cases’!”

“Yes,” I had admitted. “There is a chance, but a very unlikely one-”

“Then what the hell are ya scarin’ me for?!”

“Also,” I had continued, “and more importantly, that method doesn’t protect you from venereal diseases.”

Apple Core had sighed. “And what the hell are those?”

“Diseases transmitted sexually?” I had explained, surprised that she didn’t know that. “Spread by sex? Especially vaginal intercourse?”

“Oh…” Apple Core had exclaimed, then twitched. “Is that why Ah’m feelin’ sore down ’ere?”

I'd stared at her with wide eyes. “Alright,” I'd said after a few heartbeats, “turn around and lift your tail.”

In the end, it turned out that she was free of any venereal diseases (which bordered on being miraculous), and she was sore because one of the bucks she had been the night before was rough. Nevertheless, I learned, thanks to that experience, that her method of anticonception was quite popular in Equestrian Wasteland. Between slavers abusing slaves and several ponies' slightly slutty behaviour, I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed anypony showing signs of infection so far.

So when Apple Core told me about “it” being “all over town”, first thought that came to me was naturally that the time had come. “I am not sure if I have enough antibiotics for the entire town…” I muttered, doing the math in my head.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Apple Core asked, tilting her head. “Ah’m talkin’ about Whip Crack!”

Oh… that makes sense too, I suppose. “He’s back? Did they find this Butcher pony?”

“Well, yes and no,” Apple Core replied. “Whip Crack’s talkin’ with Boss, but ‘is ponies talked. They’ve found Butcher and ‘is guys… well, butchered.”

This day keeps getting darker...

“I thought you said that there was nothing around that could cause them trouble,” I recalled. “Also, did they-”

It said something about how well Apple Core got to know me when she yelled: “Nopony brought ya a corpse! Anyway,” she continued as I rolled my eyes, “yeah, there shouldn’t be, ever since ol’ Red Eye got that big ass raiders group sometime ago and carted them off to Fillydelphia. Now the nearest big group of ‘em is in Ponyville.”

“Could it be one of those hellhounds you’ve told me about?” I asked, half worried, half intrigued. Oh, how I’d want to get my hooves on one specimen of their kind… Monstrous, huge canine creatures, with claws able to tunnel through solid concrete, intelligent enough to use magical energy weapons. It would be hard to keep one… oh dear, would I have to chop off the poor dear’s limbs?

“Nah, they ain’t comin’ to those parts,” she replied, though I noticed she was slightly nervous.

Though they sometimes harassed slavers’ caravans during their treck down to Fillydelphia. I hoped Cracker wouldn’t encounter any; unlike Whip Crack, he was nice to me. Granted, it was probably because unlike the other buck, he was interested in my gender’s parts, but…

“‘Sides,” Apple Core added, “guys say that they had bullet ‘oles in ‘em.”

“I see… well, either way, it seems like there is nothing we can do about it now,” I said, though I was curious about what was going to happen next. Would that mean that my chances of going to New Appleloosa were even smaller than this morning? “How about we carry on with our plans for today and go get something to eat?”

Apple Core knew what I meant by “something”. “Aren’t ya gonna give up?” she asked, her tone clearly suggesting that this try would end as all the previous one had.

“It’s not my custom to give up,” I replied, trotting past her. “Just let me feed Snuggles and Wigglebutt and we can go.”

“Did’ya say they can probably live for ‘well over a week’ without food?” Apple Core called after me as I went to feed my radroaches. “Also, those names suck.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to starve them. And I don’t recall asking you for your opinion.”

“Yes, ya did!”

“So,” Apple Core asked from across the table, her head resting on her forehoof; her expression was a strange mixture of curiosity and boredom, “how does it feel?”

I didn’t answer, instead concentrating on chewing… but it was all for nought, as immediately after I swallowed I had to lean towards the bucket.

Apple Core - as well as several other ponies who watched my try yet again to eat meat - laughed as I puked out the bite of the brahmin steak. “So, are ya done wastin’ food?” she asked after I finished.

I looked at her sternly from above the bucket, still convulsing. “Adaptability is an admirable trait-”

“- which ya don’t have -”

“- and the way ponies of the Wasteland had become accustomed to a carnivorous diet and became omnivorous is simply remarkable. If I am to live in the Wasteland, I must adapt,” I concluded, turning back to my plate. I raised the steak with my magic and tried to take another bite, but as I smelled it, my stomach turned in rebellion. “Oh Goddesses,” I mumbled as I pressed my hoof to my mouth, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Want me t’ start diggin’ yar grave?” Apple Core jibed as I turned away from my plate.

Before I could reply, probably trying to suggest that she would definitely die first (my possible thoughts and plans regarding the subject of my own death being too complex to explain over a brahmin steak), somepony grunted from behind me. I looked back and saw Whip Crack. We hadn’t exactly spoken with each other since shortly after ‘death’ of Cutter, as he was taking his stuff from the clinic. Curious about what he could want, and hoping to hear more about Butcher’s group, I opened my mouth to greet him.

“Black Widow wants to see both of you,” he said before I could say anything.

Words of greeting died in my mouth as I glanced at equally surprised Apple Core. “What does she want?” Apple Core asked.

“Beats me,” Whip Crack replied, shrugging, and left us.

I watched him head towards the bar for a few seconds. He seems to be in better spirits, I mused, wondering if he was starting to get over his lover’s supposed death. Oh well, even if he is getting over it, then he still suffered longer than Bulk Build had.

“Ya don’t think she had learned ‘bout our… business?” Apple Core asked me in a lowered voice.

I looked at her; she was alarmed. I had to give her, that was the most probable reason as to why Black Widow wanted to see both of us. Though the timing seemed strange; Whip Crack had just returned from reporting what his party had found, I noted. Does Black Widow want me to go there and examine the bodies?

Hopefully, not. I would miss my chance to travel to New Appleloosa. And I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to risk meeting the individuals responsible for ending Butcher’s and his slaver party’s lives.

“I suppose we will have to see,” I finally replied. “Though just to be safe, let me do most of the talking.”

“Ah hope ya’ll know what ya’re doin’,” the earth pony said. “Ah really don’t want t’ be on Boss’s bad side. If we’ll need t’, we’ll share profits with ‘er, got it?” It wasn’t an ideal option, but definitely better than risking our lives, so I nodded. Apple Core seemed to relax seeing that. “Alright,” she said, raising, “let’s go.”

What, now? I pouted. “But I hadn’t finished eating yet.”

“And at the rate yar goin’ ‘bout it, ya never will. Not t’ mention how it will all end up in the bucket. Now c’mon, Ah don’t want to keep the Boss watin’.”

Resigned, I also rose. I followed Apple Core, looking at the steak one last time before we left. This is ridiculous, I thought, irritated. I can perform post-mortem examination right after dinner, I’ve cut living ponies open, and I even find the smell and taste of blood to be pleasant. Why can’t I eat meat!?

I tried to imagine how Fluttershy would’ve replied, hoping to get some sort of clue, but it wasn’t as easy without looking at her statuette, so I gave up and trotted after Apple Core.

“How long until the train arrives?” I asked as we walked towards the town hall, glancing in the direction of the station.

“Dunno, should be soon Ah think.”

Well, at least I should be able to look at their goods and talk with ponies… I think.

Like on all buildings in Appleloosa, time had left its mark on the town hall. I assumed it once had a clock tower, but the clock, along with half of the tower, was gone. There was also a hole in the roof, and the all of the windows had been left with only shards of glass on the edges.

I always found it odd that there were no guards stationed there. Then again, I thought as we entered the building and headed towards the room where we know Black Widow had made her “office” of sorts, Khan is probably all she needs for protection. And I suppose there might be an issue of how much one can trust a slaver to guard you.

The door opened when Apple Core pressed the knob. The room wasn’t too big, nor was it too large; a desk near one wall, behind which Black Widow sat, looking through the window and waving at us to join her. There were also ruined shelves and other similar furnitures around, as well as a frame on a wall with something that might have once been a painting. And of course, there was Khan standing next to the doorway, not moving, just staring with empty eyes at nothing, ready for his mistress’s command.

“I suppose you’ve already heard about what Whip Crack found?” she started without greeting as we sat down.

I noticed Apple Core glancing at me unsurly. “Yes, we heard,” I replied for both of us. “And I was so looking forward to meeting Butcher.”

Black Widow snorted. “You are probably better off not meeting him. Butcher was the most brutal slaver Appleloosa had likely ever seen. Did you know he used to be the leader of slavers once?”

That took me by surprise. “I did not actually. Apple Core had once told me only that he is second in rank after you…” I said, looking at the earth pony who shrugged. “... and that I ‘maybe understand what he’s saying’, whatever that means.”

“He spoke with such a terrible accent,” Black Widow explained, then grimaced. “Doez bitch wantz my cock?” she said in lower voice, then rolled her eyes in disgust. “About… twenty years ago, before my time, he became the leader of the slavers. During his eight year long reign, slavers of Appleloosa had basically became no different from raiders; slaves would be beaten half to death before being sold, and those were the lucky ones. I even heard stories that Butcher ate those ponies that he couldn’t sell.”

Well that’s… nightmarish. I concluded, wondering how screwed I could have been if I’d joined them during that time.

“Not huge of a surprise there, seeing how Butcher’s father was a raider.” Seeing my interest, she answered the question before I could ask it. “He got killed in the great raider wars a few decades ago, and his wife and kid got sold here. After little Butcher killed several slavers, they let him join them, though I have no clue what exactly became of his mother.” Her tone of voice suggested that she didn’t care to ask. “Eventually Butcher became the leader of the slavers, until he bit off more than he could chew; he attacked a patrol of Steel Rangers twelve years ago. He survived, but was incapacitated for over three months. While Cutter was getting him back on his hooves, somepony had to step up for the leader position. That somepony was my late husband, Eulogy.”

“Your husband?” I asked, surprised… before I mentally facehooved.

“Did you think I was born with a name ‘Widow’?” she replied, smirking. “I used to be called ‘Dark Lady’. Regardless, under Eulogy’s leadership, the slavers fared much better than when Butcher was in charge. So much so that they decided that he would be the leader. Of course,” Black Widow added, “it wouldn’t have been possible without the advice I gave my dear husband. I greatly contributed to the successes of slavers. So it was only natural that after Eulogy’s unfortunate passing I was chosen as the leader.”

I was curious as to how exactly he had died, but I felt that asking about it wouldn’t be the smartest move.

“Of course, Butcher was pissed,” she continued, “but most of his closest allies had died in that fight with the Steel Rangers. There were some fights, but it eventually calmed down. It helped that with age he started to be more reasonable, but Eulogy would still have to occasionally rein him in. Would have been much simpler to kill him, but there are advantages of having the best fighter - well, minus Khan - in this part of the Wasteland on your side.”

“But enough of this,” Black Widow suddenly snapped. “I didn’t ask you two to come to listen to history lessons. Firstly,” she turned to Apple Core and smiled, “congratulations are in order. You do know that with Butcher’s death you are now second in rank, right?”

Guessing by Apple Core’s expression, this had slipped her mind. “Ah… yeah, Ah mean, Ah do know. Just been too concerned ‘bout ‘em dyin’ to think ‘bout it. Thanks Boss.”

Black Widow nodded. “I am even more concerned. Butcher was, for all his faults, a good fighter, and he was leading five more seasoned slavers. It’s hard to imagine them all getting killed.”

“Do you have any clue who could have done it?” I asked, also concerned.

“Not exactly,” Black Widow replied, crossing her forelegs. “According to Whip Crack, the bodies had already started to decay by the time they found them, two days away from Appleloosa. Some of the corpses had been partially eaten, though seeing how there were plenty of bullet wounds and cuts we can safely assume it was done by something that can use guns and melee weapons.”

“The Hooded Figure?”

I glanced surprised at Apple Core, who had said those words quietly. Hooded Figure? Hadn’t I heard that name somewhere else? I wondered. Yes I did; I recalled that Craker had told Black Widow that he might have seen this Hooded Figure, whatever that is, when he got back. Pity I didn’t overhear Black Widow’s response, I noted as I watched her look now at Apple Core bemused.

“What’s a ‘Hooded Figure’?” I asked.

“A myth,” Black Widow said dismissively. “Some ponies a couple years back saw a strange creature completely covered by a robe with hood over its head. ‘It walked like a pony and talked like a pony, but nopony saw what it really was’,” she said in a scary voice before rolling her eyes. “It was supposedly seen in several different towns, including both Old and New Appleloosa. And a few of those times somepony was found to have died in a gory fashion. If you ask me, everypony who saw him had drunk too much, saw something, already heard that story somewhere, and thought ‘Celestia fuck me, I just saw the Hooded Figure’. What a load of hay… I didn’t take you for being superstitious, Apple Core.”

I wonder if Apple Core knows what that means…

“Ah’m not, Boss!” Apple Core was quick to say. She still looked nervous. “B-but it doesn’t hurt t’ ask.”

“Well, regardless, it seems that this is some tribals’ doing,” Black Widow said. “Seeing how there were no slaves with Butcher and the rest, I wouldn’t be surprised if some tribe saw them leading ponies in shackles and determined to take them for themselves. Or if Butcher underestimated them and attacked first.”

“Excuse me,” I butted in, slightly confused. “‘Tribals’?”

“A group of ponies living with a primitive lifestyle,” the other unicorn replied. “I suppose you could call them ‘families of families’.”

“But weren’t all the tribals ‘round ‘ere killed or sold by that big raider group Red Eye ‘ad captured?”

Black Widow shrugged. “Guess with them out of the way, it was a matter of time for a new tribe to try and settle in. Especially since small group of ponies had already moved into all those empty settlements. I don’t have to tell you that I plan to have them captured, do I?” She frowned and and her gaze drifted to the the window, and what laid beyond it. “They killed my ponies and either stole or freed the slaves they were bringing. I am not going to let that slide. That being said, we are six ponies short, including our best fighter. Coupled with all the ponies delivering merchandise to Fillydelphia, we are too short-hoofed to try and fight them, especially knowing next to nothing about them. And that is why you are here.”

Here it comes, I thought, glad that she was finally about to tell us why she summoned us.

“I’m sending the two of you to New Appleloosa.”

My jaw dropped. What? My ears twitched. Did she seriously just gave me what I wanted?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand how exactly it’s going to help with our predicament,” I said, in case Apple Core was about to blurt something unnecessary.

“New Appleloosa tends to have far more visitors than we have here,” Black Widow started to explain. “For example, a mercenary duo of a unicorn and a griffin-”

My heart skipped a bit. New Appleloosa not only has a pegasus living nearby, but a griffin too?! I felt my tail twitch at the thought of examining one of that species…

“-though DJ Pon3 had mentioned such a duo about a month ago somewhere in Manehattan Ruins, so you’re probably not going to meet them,” she continued, crushing my hopes. “But there might be other mercenaries there, or at least one of the travellers had heard of some group nearby, maybe even one of the Talons. I want you to find them and convince them to come and negotiate a contract with us.”

Pushing away the feeling of how unfair life was, letting me dream of having a griffin to examine and then taking it away in the span of seconds, I focused on the task Black Widow wanted us to accomplish. Her plan seemed logical; bolstering her forces when faced with an unknown enemy. However…

“I don’t understand why do you want me to go along with Apple Core,” I pointed out what seemed wrong for me. “I’m the town’s medic.”

“You’re not going along with Apple Core. She’s coming along with you,” Black Widow corrected me. Turning to the said earth pony, she explained. “Don’t take offense, Apple Core, but you aren’t exactly a diplomatic individual.”

“Oh… ‘S'alright,” Apple Core said dismissively.

“You, on the other hoof,” Black Widow continued, turning to me, “have a way with words, are attractive and manipulative. I still don’t have a clue how you got that slave to kill Cutter for you.”

I gasped. For a second, I was left speechless. “How… how could you?” I managed to say, my lip quivering. I hid my face in my hooves. “Do you know how much I regret talking with Bulk Build?” Because doing that so openly risked suspicions like those. “How many nights I couldn’t sleep because of what happened?” Those nights would have been funnier if I’d started my experiments, not just prepare spellbane potion. “How much I wish-”

“Oh for-” Black Widow exclaimed, loudly enough to cut me off. “Let’s say I believe you, I don’t have time for this.”

I nodded meekly to show that I got it, and took my hooves off my face. Rubbing them against my eyes made me appear as if I’d been about to cry. Black Widow hadn’t bought it, if her rolling her eyes at the sight was of any indication, but I didn’t care. I knew she was suspicious of me since Cutter’s “death”. If it were just the two of us in the room - minus the poor Khan - I would have gave a miss to that performance. However, I wasn’t quite sure what Apple Core would have thought of the part I took in Cutter’s fate.

Not to mention that with her visits to the saloon and drinking habits, I am not sure if she can be trusted.

Black Widow seemed disinterested as she continued: “Then lets say that a fine example of your manipulation skills is how you talked a group of slavers to give you ride right after coming out of a Stable.”

“Um, Boss?” Apple Core interjected. “Ah was hurt, so-”

“-you decided to be magnanimous and not shackle her with the rest after she healed you,” Black Widow finished, smirking, “But don’t you find it weird how a Stable pony just came to a group of slavers and talked with them? Calmly?”

Apple Core blinked and pondered her words. “Hm, yeah, now that ya’ve mention it…”

Is she trying to turn her against me? I frowned, then it hit me. She sends Apple Core with me. For protection, mostly, but probably also to make sure I won’t betray her. Seeing how she knows we became close, she’s trying to plant seeds of doubts in her.

“Of course,” Black Widow added, leaning back, “I might be wrong, and she is just crazy. Certainly wouldn’t have surprised me.” I ignored the joke, but when Apple Core snorted I frowned at her. “Still, you are probably a far better choice to handle negotiations than Apple Core here, and definitely better than Whip Crack. And given the situation, I feel it would be best if I remained here.”

“But what if you are attacked?” I pointed out. “Who would heal you? And what if another fight breaks out in the saloon?”

“I doubt they would have the balls to attack an entire city. As for fights, if some testosterone-driven idiot gets some bruises, then he probably deserves them.”

I felt that I should point out that Apple Core and other slaver mares had also taken part in those fights, but I just frowned instead. “Still, I will save several healing potions, just in case.”

Black Widow shrugged. “No problem with me. Apple Core,” she turned to the other mare, “you’re in charge of keeping our doctor safe. I want her back in one piece. You can pick two other ponies,” she added once Apple Core nodded, “that’s all I can spare. Be sure to pick ponies who can think and be on their best behaviour; the last thing we need right now is losing our good relationship with that town. Also, I expect you to help her in the task; I’m sure citizens of New Appleloosa will be more eager to talk with you.”

I made a mental note to ask Apple Core what she meant by that.

“There’s another thing I would like you two to do for me while you’re there,” Black Widow continued, addressing both of us. “This one should prove a much easier task. Basically, I would like you to do some shopping.”

“Shoppin’?”

“Since that mysterious escape of one of the slaves,” the leader of the slavers said, glancing at me briefly, “some of our ponies have been saying that there’s not enough security around the cages. So I figured, what the hell,” Black Widow smiled wickedly, “lets put mines around them.”

My eyes widened in surprise. That… could be problematic. If I were not told the location of the mines, and had to just do my check-ups outside…

If that was Black Widow’s plan, then it was very smart. In one move, she would calm down those slavers who could get afraid of another slave escaping and killing somepony - even though most of them would never admit to fearing such a possibility - as well as increase security around the slaves and making sure I couldn’t pull the same idea again.

“There ain’t any in the armory?” Apple Core asked.

“No. I want you to buy… let's say thirty. Twenty should be enough to surround the cages, and we will have some spares. I will give you two thousand caps for your expenses.” She waved her hoof. “You can spend the change on beer or whatever, just make sure you complete your objectives. Oh,” Black Widow said, turning to me, “and just in case you would think about running away with my caps-”

“Why are you looking at me that way?” I asked in sad voice. “I hadn’t given you any reason to distrust me.”

Black Widow shrugged. “Don’t take it personally, Doctor Angel, it’s just business. You’ve been here two weeks; Apple Core captured slaves for me for years. Regardless;” she said, her voice turning cold, “if you run away with my caps, I will hunt you down and feed you to Khan.”

I was taken aback by the threat. I glanced at Khan, who was standing as calmly as ever with his vacant expression, then turned to Black Widow. “Does he eat ponies?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

Apple Core quickly replied: “No.”

“Maybe,” I said at the same time. Seeing the looks the other two mares were giving me - Black Widow surprised and Apple Core shocked - I added: “If we used another pony, sure. Sounds kind of interesting.”

Apple Core facehoofed and muttered something under her breath. Black Widow just shook her head in disbelief. “You will be leaving tomorrow morning together with the train. Once it arrives- ah, there it is,” she said as wailing sound assaulted our ears. Is this the train whistle? I wondered, glancing through the window; there was still no sign of the train itself. “Once it arrives, I will talk with the train ponies to take you with them, and then bring you back once you’ve completed your tasks.”

Black Widow had to stop then, as there was a sudden metallic noise incoming, growing increasingly louder. The next moment, though, it became high-pitched, as the train ponies hit the breaks and the train started to slow down as it reached the Appleloosa station. Even though the station wasn’t close to the town hall, I had to cringed at how loud it all was.

I’m supposed to ride in this?

Slowly, the sounds died down. “As you have earlier pointed out, Doctor Angel, you are Appleloosa’s medic, and as such it would be unwise if you were away for too long. You have maximally a week.” She narrowed her eyes. “Maximally. I will know if you’d somehow find mercenaries within a day and then spent six dicking around.”

Is she going to pay one of the train ponies to observe us? Or is there one such pony already on her payroll?

I stopped musing as Black Widow raised. “That is all. I will give you the caps tomorrow morning. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to arrange your transport with the train ponies,” she said as she nodded meaningfully in the direction of the door.

Without wasting a second, we left the town hall. Apple Core because she was unnerved by Khan standing so close, and me because I had to think this over. While I had planned on making this journey, it was to be on my terms. Now I was going because Black Widow ordered me so. It annoyed me that it wasn’t my decision anymore.

More importantly, though, I had to analyze everything that Black Widow had told me. The short lesson of history, caused most likely by nostalgia triggered by Butcher’s death, made me realize some things… or to be more precise, make several assumptions.

I really should question Cutter about what he meant by “I have too much shit on her”, I contemplated. Earlier, I hadn’t done so, as I had more important things to do before I could start undermining the local authority, but now, with Apple Core being second in rank…

“Congratulations on the promotion,” I said as we exited the town hall. Black Widow closed the door behind her and headed towards the train station together with Khan without saying a word. “Though it’s a pity that it had to happen in such circumstances.”

“Eh,” Apple Core sighed, “Ah didn’t really like Butcher.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that aside from him five ponies had died,” I pointed out as we began to walk back towards Salt Block. “And that you apparently have troublesome neighbors.”

“Yeah, Ah ‘spouse thats true. But nevermind ‘at, we’ve got ourselves vacations!”

I frowned, “Sweetie, it’s not ‘vacations’; we are being sent with an important task-”

“Yeah yeah, whatevs,” she said dismissively. “Doesn’t mean we can’t ‘ave fun ‘ough. Now, who should Ah take with us…”

“Please tell me it won’t be ‘the sixth’ and ‘the seventh’.”

Apple Core snorted. “Ya know, Ah’m gettin’ a feelin’ ya’ve started t’ think Ah’m some sort of slut, miss ‘Ah act like a vagina predator but Ah’m chaste as ice’.”

I stopped and looked at her in surprise. “Okay,” I said as I recovered, “couple of things. One; I don’t think that, I was simply concerned that you might get too distracted to help me with our task. Two; you know I wanted to examine if you caught a disease.”

Though admittedly, I could have phrased it better, I thought, recalling her reaction.

“Three; I am not chaste. I simply haven’t met a pony who would meet my criteria for a lover. And last; wasn’t that part about the ice from pre-war literature?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Ah dunno, maybe? And what sort of ‘criteria' can ya have?”

“Well, it helps if they actually like me,” I replied, winking. As Apple Core rolled her eyes, I giggled. “They also have to be interesting.”

“Ah don’t wanna know what ya think is interestin’,” Apple Core said as she resumed trotting. I followed her. “Also, ‘lover’? What are ya, five?”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Getting back to the more important subject,” I said, “this is a great opportunity regarding our business. Now I should be able to negotiate supplies from New Appleloosa without problems and without raising suspicions.”

Though I was happy about this, I felt as if a shadow had been cast on my thoughts. Things were going too well for me. I didn’t like to rely on luck. Because sooner or later (and in my cause, it was usually sooner) luck runs out.

“Yeah, all’s good,” Apple Core replied, oblivious to my brooding. “Oh, hey, this gives me an idea,” she said as she suddenly stopped. I followed her example and turned to look at what took her attention. “Since we’re goin’ t’ travel a bit, ya should get yarself a gun.”

We were standing in front of the armory.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. “No,” I said, and turned to walk away.

There was nothing in Appleloosa’s armory that could possibly hold any value for me.

“Wha- Hey, get back ‘ere!” Apple Core exclaimed. Despite her words, it was she who followed me. “That old coot will probably give ya a discount, and it’s not like ya ain’t able t’ afford it.”

“Apple Core, I said no,” I replied, not turning to look at her.

“C’mon, ya can’t be that bad of a shooter,” the earth pony continued despite my words. “And Ah can teach ya-”

I had enough. I stopped and looked her in the eyes. “Apple Core,” I said in the voice that allowed no interruptions. “I am never going to carry a gun.”

Apple Core stared into my red eyes in shock, her ears flat. “Um... okay?” She slowly said. “Why?”

I mentally sighed. On the outside, though, I smiled, closed my eyes and tilted my head. “Do I need a reason, sweetie?”

“Well, yeah! Ya’ve just gone and flipped out!”

“Why would I need a gun?” I instead replied. “I have my magic.”

Though I really don’t want to test my spells in an actual combat...

“Yeah, and what good’ll healin’ do ya when somepony’s shootin’ at ya or a monster tries to bite yar head off?”

My smile turned into a smirk as I looked into Apple Core’s eyes. “Did you know,” I said, “that for every spell there is a spell that is its opposite? It’s one of the first things fillies and colts learn in Stable Eight.”

“‘Kay, so?” Apple Core asked, puzzled.

I narrowed my eyes. “Try to think what could possibly an opposite spell of healing spell do.”

Apple Core’s eyes grew wide as plates. “Um… kill?”

I covered my mouth with hoof and giggled. “Well, no. Or at least, not exactly. To guess it correctly, you would need to know how exactly a healing spell work, which sadly not everypony, even my peers in Stable Eight, know. But if you are curious about an array of my offensive spells,” I said, changing the subject, “know that I am able to use the same spell with which I captured Snuggles and Wigglebutt on ponies too, as well as conjure knives-”

“‘Kay, Ah don’t need t’ hear the details,” Apple Core interrupted me. “Important is that ya can take care of yarself. So, what are ya gonna go do now?”

I glanced in the direction of where the train station was. Beside it, on the tracks, there was the train. A machine made out of several cars, with only the front and back being significantly different. There were several ponies gathered around it and the station, some carrying shipment to the stores. I noticed a barrel being carried by a pony towards Salt Block.

“I think I will go look at the merchandise they’ve brought and talk with them,” I said. Maybe I would find something interesting? “I will just have to go take some caps and saddlebags from the clinic.”

“Gonna go ask how the train works?” Apple Core asked.

I tried not to snort. “I have little interest in such primitive machinery. That’s good for maintenance. And what about you?” I asked the earth pony.

“Gotta go find two more ponies, remember? Ah think Mouse will agree…”

Hadn’t expected that. Mousetrap, as was her full name, was a mare.

“What, thought Ah would pick bucks?” Apple Core asked with a smirk, noticing my expression. “Ah know that there are guys already in New Appleloosa, why the heck would Ah drag bucks from ‘ere t’ there?”

Hm, makes sense I suppose. “Oh, this reminds me; what did Black Widow mean when she said you’d have easier time asking ponies around there?”

Apple Core chuckled. “Why, Ah’m from that town. Lived in New Appleloosa ‘til Ah came t’ work ‘ere. Still got a brother there, in fact.”

“Really? I can’t wait to meet him then,” I replied, thinking how much this should make things easier for us.

“So you’re saying that those were sent by this Candi pony?” I asked, pointing at a small box with healing boxes and some other bottles.

One of the train ponies (the one who brought it along with other goods to the store), looking slightly annoyed that I interrupted his conversation again with Forty Caps, turned to me. “Sent? She’s gettin’ money out of this.”

“Of course, but since she’s not here, it would have been weird to say ‘those are being sold here by her’, wouldn’t it?” I asked innocently.

The train pony looked at me confused. “Ah… what?”

Forty Caps, a scrawny unicorn with light blue coat, chuckled. “Ignore it, she could go on for hours like that.”

I frowned. “Sweetie, when I engaged with you in that discussion about the basic principles of economy last week, I only talked for ten minutes about-”

“Yeah, basic,” Forty Caps intervened. “Sorry, Doc, but I don’t need that ‘interactive decision theory’ thing to run my business.”

Well, I suppose I should be happy he at least had remembered the name, I thought, pouting.

Though I was mainly interested in medicine, biology, magic and arcane-sciences, I had some knowledge in the other areas. I tried engaging in debates about various topics, but my efforts were in vain; ponies in the Wasteland were more interested in practical knowledge.

Getting my thoughts back to the matter at hoof, I glanced at the box again. “So Cutter would buy medicines from you? Instead of arranging trade from New Appleloosa?”

“Well, what can I say?” Forty Caps replied, shrugging. “The old Doc had no head for business. He liked when things were simple. Trotting over here and buying stuff from me is simpler than negotiating a trade deal with another town.”

“And I’m sure you hadn’t taken advantage of that and had him pay a foreleg and hindleg for them,” I said, smiling and looking at him through narrowed eyes.

Forty Caps gulped nervously under gaze. “Um… well-”

“How much?” I asked, turning my attention to the box.

Six healing potions, Buck… I thought as I examined the context of the box, until something caught my attention. Oh? What’s this?

Behind me, Forty Caps had recovered. “For all of it? Well, I usually would have taken six hundred caps from Cutter, but since it’s you, how about-”

“Three hundred,” I interrupted him, levitating from the box a bottle with contents I didn’t recognize.

What is this? I wondered, taking a closer look at it. It’s a liquid… but it’s not a healing potion. I cast a quick spell, not to different from the one I’d use when examining a pony. Hm, it’s concentration is denser than healing potion… is this organic?

“Three hundred? Are you joking? I was thinking about smaller discount, like five hundred and fifty. Of course,” he added, turning slightly red, “I could drop it even further if you… w-well…”

I turned to look back at him. “Not many mares like bucks who are so indecisive, you know,” I said, moving the bottle towards Forty Caps. “You’ll give me a huge discount, because this is the first time I am making such a big purchase, and before I’ve been constantly buying little things from you. Like that aquarium that was standing here for years. I can pay three hundred and fifty. Now, could you tell me what this is exactly?” I asked, wiggling the bottle a bit.

Judging by his grimace, Forty Caps wasn’t exactly happy at the moment. “What, this?” he asked, glancing at the mysterious medicine. “That’s Hydra.”

“Hydra?” I tilted my head, confused.

His grimace turned into a grin, “Well, would’ya look at that, Doctor Know-It-All doesn’t know something.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you angry for my earlier comment? Come now, sweetie, I know you aren’t a petty pony, just tell me what ‘Hydra’ is.”

It was the train pony who replied. “A super-healin’ potion.”

“Basically,” Forty Caps added. “It’s a very rare drug around this part of the Wasteland, which is why I can only get one every month.”

“That’s interesting, but what exactly makes it ‘super-healing’?” I asked, intrigued.

“Aside from healing, Hydra can restore crippled bones, and I’ve even heard of them making a pony grow back a hoof or an eye.”

My eyes grew wide. I moved the bottle of Hydra back to me. Can it be true? Can this actually allow a pony to regenerate entire body parts?

Forty Caps, no doubt seeing my interest, tried to haggle again. “So, how about-”

“Four hundred.” I replied, not taking my eyes of the Hydra. “Since Candi could afford to sell one,” I said as I turned to the New Appleloosa’s pony, “I assume this means she has several more of them?”

His answer wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for. “Um… maybe?”

Not happy with the answer, I turned back to the drug. She must have, I decided. No sane medical pony would sell their only dose of such drug… assuming it really works…

Forty Caps cleared his throat. “How about-”

“Four hundred is my final offer,” I told him. Smiling to soften my words, I added: “You still gain profit out of this deal don’t you?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Then it’s settled?”

The show owner sighed. “Fine.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” I said sweetly, though my mind was on other matters.

Within ten minutes, I had left the shop, got back to the clinic, put everything aside of the Hydra on one of the beds, rushed down to the basement, locked the doors, and entered Cutter’s cell.

Cutter’s eyes shot wide open at my sight. “N-no! Please y- Mistress, I’ll be good!”

His outburst so surprised me that I stopped, forgetting my plans for a moment. What is he on about? I wondered, confused.

He’s scared because of what you tried to do to him earlier, I quiet voice in the back of my mind reminded me.

“Oh right, that!” I exclaimed, and shook my head. “Sweetie, I’m afraid something more important came up. Right now, I need to check something.”

Without further ado, I grabbed the table to which Cutter was chained, and - being careful to not topple the bucket - I began to move it out of the cell into the main room of the basement. It wasn’t easy; I could levitate small objects easily, but something as large as the table was a hoof-ful. Sweat began to form on my forehead as I turned the table to horizontal position and laid in on the floor. At least I didn’t need to move Janitor, who entered sleep move in the corner of the basement.

I gasped from the exertion. I will need lights, I noted as I brushed sweat of my forehead.

“W-what are you doing?” Cutter asked as I flipped the switch for the lights. He then gasped as the room basement became much brighter.

“Shh.” I shushed at him. “I will get right back to you, sweetie.”

Where is it, where is it… I thought as I began to scan the shelves. I had created beforehoof a preparation just perfect for this, but where did I put it… Ah, there it is! I smiled. The transparent container was filled with a preserving bio med gel, created through the mixture of medicine and magic.

Satisfied, I put it on the desk, together with Hydra, and turned to face my test subject. Cutter was looking at me, frightened. I smiled reassuringly and activated my PipBuck’s recorder.

“Audio recording of Doctor Angel, number 2.03. Today, I had acquired a drug called Hydra, which based on the information I had received drastically accelerates cell growth in order for pony’s organism to heal grievous injuries. Apparently, it can restore fractured bones, and there have been cases of it causing regrowth of entire limbs and organs. I will now attempt to verify that information with the help of test subject Cutter. I will first remove the left eyeball-”

“WHAT?!”

“- and cause a fracture in right foreleg’s radius, then I will make the subject drink Hydra.” I continued, ignoring the interruption, although I did raise my voice so that the ringing of Cutter’s shackles as he began to tussle wouldn’t obscure my words. “As a precaution, I will place the eyeball in canopic gel to preserve it, in case Hydra doesn’t work as promised.”

And if it will, well, I will have a spare eyeball. I could try transplanting it to Khan… no wait, he’s a zebra. Even though zebra and ponies seem to share many biological similarities, I would have to first run some tests…

I shook my head to focus more on the current experiment. “I am now going to remove the eyeball,” I said to the recorder, then grabbed grabbed surgical equipment in a telekinetic grasp and walked closer to Cutter.

“NO!” he shouted. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

I frowned, but then I facehoofed. “What am I doing? This is going to hurt!” I placed the tools on the desk and cast an Anesthetic spell on Cutter. Immediately, the ringing of his chains cased, as his body fell limp. “Perfect. Now…”

I used the forceps to keep his left eyelid open, then I grabbed scalpel. Carefully, I slid it in between the eyeball and bone. Slowly, carefully... When the scalpel was deep enough, I paused and concentrated. A red aura surrounded the entire eyeball before I moved the scalpel to sever the optic nerve and helped my magic to pull it out.

Plock!

Surrounded in red aura, I placed Cutter’s eyeball in the container with canopic gel. After I made sure the lid was closed tightly, I released the spell and turned back to Cutter. His body unable to move thanks to Anesthetic spell, he was quite an excellent patient. I released my spell around the empty eye socket, and focused on the right foreleg.

Breaking a bone wasn’t as easy as removing an eyeball. Or healing it, I remarked, as I concentrated my magic. Thankfully, when I studied medicine, I learned the method invented about one hundred and sixty years ago in Stable Eight for removing tumors, and the basic idea should apply here.

I fired a magic bullet from my horn into Cutter’s foreleg, which passed through the skin and flesh and into the bone. As bone was much sturdier than tumor cells, and I wasn’t too good with this spell, I wasn’t surprised when the radius hadn’t fractured with the first bullet. Or the second. The third finally did the trick, as a silent Snap! let me know.

I checked to be sure, and nodded with satisfaction. “The test subject’s body has been prepared for the test,” I said for the recorder, “and now I administer Hydra.”

I grabbed the bottle and placed it by Cutter’s mouth. I then opened Cutter’s mouth, moved the neck of the bottle between his lips, and tipped the bottom up. Since he was under the effects of my spell, I pressed on his throat gently to help the muscles drink it down, while I started at his empty eye socket studiously.

My eyes grew wide. There was something moving inside!

I watched, fascinated, as red flesh began to form, pulsating and vibrating… and I was soon staring at an exact same eye that I had just removed.

My jaw dropped. I raised to look at the desk, where I saw the eyeball still in in the gel, and back at Cutter’s face. It really regrew… I thought blankly as I moved to stand over his limp body. I tilted Cutter’s head to the side to get a better view. It really worked… A quick spell to check the foreleg, and I found that the bone had also been healed.

This… is… AMAZING!

I laughed and bend down to kiss Cutter’s eye. “It worked,” I said. I sat down on Cutter’s chest and continued to talk to my PipBuck. “The experiment was a success. The ability of the Hydra drug to heal crippled limbs and restore organs was confirmed. I will have to acquire additional samples to research it more.”

Turning off the recorder, I returned to kissing the eye. “Isn’t this amazing?!” I asked Cutter as I rose. As he failed to respond, I giggled. “I suppose after such excitement, you deserve some rest.”

As my spell put him to sleep, I gently closed his eyelids and walked away. I decided to let him sleep in that position for tonight, I would put him back into his cell before I left.

But more importantly, this Hydra… I thought as I looked at the now empty bottle. This certainly wasn’t invented back before the war or during it, otherwise I would have known about it. How did the ponies of the Wasteland create it? Not even in Stable Eight had we managed to discover how regrow an entire organ.

“I thought my Stable to be superior to the ponies of the Wasteland,” I told Fluttershy’s statuette, giggling. “But you accomplished something I alone had been trying to for years!”

But did you have to hurt him? Couldn’t you just believe what those ponies told you?

I smiled sadly at it. “You will have to excuse me, Mare of the Ministry of Peace, but I wasn’t going to believe that such a wondrous drug existed. Besides, what’s the harm? Even if it were to be ineffective, I could have always healed him.”

You’re a monster! Have you no regard for how much pain you are causing?

“Of course I do! Why do you think I cast the Anesthetic spell?” I shook my head. “Sweetie, this isn’t the peaceful Equestria you knew when you were young; I would have thought that you had came to understand that during the War.”

Equestria might have changed; it doesn’t mean the ponies should have.

“Evolution.” I countered. “Organisms that don’t adapt to their environment will cease to exist.”

You grew up in a Stable. One which, according to your words, seemed to be a paradise. How could this wondrous place create a psychopath?

I blinked. I was surprised at the sudden ferocity with which I imagined the real Fluttershy would say the last word. Psychopath. I giggled and patted the statuette on the head.

“That’s a story for some other time. You know, I think I will take you with me to New Appleloosa; I find our imaginary conversations refreshing, and I can’t just picture Fluttershy’s voice without you,” I told it. I giggled once more as I turned around. “Hydra… I wonder, how many more fascinating secrets are there for me to discover in this Equestrian Wasteland?”

One thing’s for sure. Learning all of it will be surely fun!

Footnote: Level Up!
New Perk : Horse Sense -- You are a swift learner. You gain an additional +10% whenever experience points are earned.