Manehatten

Redheart paced back and forth in the narrow alley, her thoughts a dark, messy tangle of nerves and paranoia. All the cool bravado she had displayed the previous night had since faded, along with the heady buzz of adrenaline and the mindset that yes, this was definitely a good idea. Two had said her contacts would arrive at noon. It was now ten minutes past, and with nopony in sight, she was having second thoughts.

Last night could have been a fluke. It could have been some other hospital getting back at us, or one of the Nix extremist groups protesting some treatment or other. There’s really no reason for you to go and involve yourself personally. But if it wasn’t... No. You swore off this entire business years ago. Hurting ponies creates twice as many problems as it solves, and you know that. Do you really want to jump back into the thick of it now? Just put everything that happened last night behind you, Redheart. It never happened.

But if this WAS tied to something bigger, and I’m the only one who knows-

“Hey, anypony home?” A voice spoke from behind her, thick with a Bucklyn accent.

She whipped around, dropping the same stance she had used the night before. Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning the alley for potential threats.

“Whoa. Feisty one, aren’t ya? Good. This isn’t a place for weaklings.” The owner of the voice was a pink earth pony mare with an electric-green mane, done up in flamboyant spikes. Her cutie mark had been branded over as well, replaced with the same symbol as the colts from the hospital. All right, so that seal is definitely tied to Garnet and the mob. Now, if only I knew what it meant... “

“So, you are the mare Slick was tellin’ us about, right?”

“Uh, yep, that’s me.” So, the blue one’s name was Slick, huh? Fitting. Well, he won’t be so slick now, after the thrashing I gave him. The blue colt had reluctantly accompanied her on the train to Manehatten, setting her up with an entry-level job for one of Garnet’s underlings. He had also attempted to escape no less than four times, and tried to overpower her twice. The second time had ended with absolutely no injury to Redheart and Slick being thrown in a Manehatten dumpster, unconscious and sporting a considerably more broken nose. Redheart was confident he wouldn’t be interfering anytime soon.

“So, what’s the job, exactly?”

The pink mare rolled her eyes. “I ask the questions, rookie. Now, first, what’s your name?”

“Uh...” Buckbuckbuck WHY DID I NOT THINK OF THIS

“Rose!...Rose...heart!” Oh, fantastic, Redheart. They definitely won’t see through that right away.

“Roseheart, huh? Sounds like a pussy name to me. From now on, you’re Rookie, and you’ll stay Rookie until you can shove it off on somepony else. Got me?”

Oh thank Celestia, this one is as dumb as she looks. “Yeah.”

“‘Kay. Second, if you want in, you gotta recite the Blood Hoof Pact. That’ll make ya as close to a member of the family as you can get, least until ya aren’t the Rookie anymore. Now, repeat after me:

“I live for the family.”

“I live for the family.”

“I will kill for the family.”

Damn, these ponies don’t mess around.

“I... I will kill for the family.”

“I will die for the family.”

“I will die for the family.”

Redheart had no intention of keeping any part of the pact, especially that last line. Is that all I have to do to get in? Just parrot some warped code of honor? Seems too easy.

The pink mare interrupted her thoughts.

“All right, you’re a full-fledged Sister now, more or less. I’m Candi, by the way. Candi Floss.”

Redheart suppressed a giggle. Roseheart is a pussy name, but Candi Floss isn’t?
“It’s a pleasure, your highness.”

Candi rolled her eyes again. “Funny. All right, now shut up and listen. Here’s how the job’s gonna go down.”

Redheart complied. She couldn’t afford to miss this.

“This is our target.” Candi rummaged around in her saddlebags, finally producing a photo of an aging unicorn stallion with a distinctly bookish air about him. “Name’s Ink Blot. He’s a professor at the Royal Canterlot Institute for Emerging Magical Technologies. Don’t make me say that again.”

Target? Wait, she can’t mean...

“Is this... is this a hit?”

Candi frowned. “What, did Slick forget to tell ya?”

“He didn’t really tell me anything.” Redheart neglected to mention this was because he was currently unconscious under a pile of week-old hay fries.

The pink mare snorted. “Figures. Whatever. Yeah, it’s a hit. Boss wants this guy out of the picture, we got picked to do it. Standard stuff. As cut-and-dry as it gets.”

Oh sweet motherbucking Celestia on a stick. HE SAID I WOULD BE A MESSAGE PONY! Redheart’s mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour, desperately trying to find a way to extricate herself from the situation. She came up blank.

“Why does Gar- I mean, the boss want him dead? What did he do?” The words were out before she could stop them. IDIOT! Redheart mentally slapped herself in the head.

Candi rolled her eyes again. Redheart began to suspect it was her only way of showing emotion. “Does it matter? Boss thinks he’s dangerous, that’s good enough for me. Now, I thought I told you to shut up and listen.”

“Sorry.” No no no no NO! This can’t happen. I can’t do this. I SWORE! No more killing, no more death. I’m a nurse now, not a Celestia-damned assassin!

If Candi had any idea of the inner emotional turmoil Redheart was experiencing, she didn’t show it. “Whatever. So, like I said, here’s how it’s gonna go down.” She tapped a hoof against the photo. “Inky here’s gonna walk down this street in about twenty minutes. He takes the same route every day. Now, my associate and I are gonna be waiting somewhere nearby.” She pointed to the shadows behind her. Redheart squinted, then started as she realized there was a silhouette of a pony there. It looked like a stallion, but she couldn’t be sure.

Candi continued. “Since you’re still the Rookie, we aren’t gonna trust you with the dirty work just yet. Blade’ll take the shot.” She pointed again to the pony in the shadows. Looking closer at the dark figure, Redheart realized there was something long and thin slung across its back. But those were outlawed years ago...

Candi nodded at Blade and continued talking. “We just need the Prof to be standing nice and still when Blade pulls the trigger. That’s where you come in. All you gotta do is walk up, keep him talking, and then book it back here when he goes down. Make it look like you were clueless, and just got scared. Don’t stop runnin’. We’ll meet you a couple alleys down. Easy as pie. Ya get it?”

Time to go for broke. “And if I say no?”

Candi’s eyes narrowed. “Then we gut you and throw your worthless flank off the Bucklyn Bridge. You’re a Sister now, remember? No turnin’ back.”

She had figured as much. Let’s see, if I can drop her before the other one can react, I might be able to... NO! Dammit Redheart, you’re not going to hurt anypony else! Besides, if that Blade pony, whoever they are, has what I think they do, I’ll be dead before I can blink. There’s got to be another way out of this, something I haven’t thought of yet. Redheart sighed inwardly. Guess I’ll just have to improvise. “All right, count me in.”

Candi smiled, only her eyes betraying her previous irritation. “Knew you would see it my way. All right, you chill here. Blade and I are gonna go get in position. As soon as you see the target, just get out there and keep him talking. And remember, any funny business...” She drew a hoof across her throat. The message was clear.

“Got it.” Redheart watched Candi and her mysterious companion dart across the shadows of the street, finally ducking out of view into another alley. Then, she settled back on her haunches and attempted to formulate a plan. She didn’t get very far.

There’s just no way! Too many angles, too many different ways to approach. Who knows how many other ponies they have hiding in those alleys, or what kinds of contingencies they have in place? I’m sure I’m not the first “Rookie” to get cold hooves.

Redheart allowed herself one last sigh, then brought her head up, steel in her eyes. I’m just going to have to do it. Yep, just gonna have to break years of promises, years of therapy, years of deconditioning. Years of swearing ‘never again.’ She grimaced, then shook her head.

Nothing. Bucking. To it.

Ink Blot trotted quickly down the nearly-deserted street, scanning back and forth for anypony lurking in the shadowy alleyways. Apart from a couple vendors hawking their wares and some members of one of Manehatten’s less... upstanding institutions, there was nopony in sight. Still, one could never be too careful. This wasn’t exactly the best part of town. And they accuse me of being paranoid, he thought. Paranoid? No. Cautious, yes. Impossible to be too careful. Identify risks, analyze outcomes, maximize survival. Simple logic. Foal could understand it. Tutting to himself, the stallion turned off on the next street and picked up his pace, eager to get back to his apartment and the relative safety it provided. He didn’t notice the three pairs of eyes watching him, waiting for a certain mare to make her move.

Redheart saw Ink Blot a while before he saw her. She watched the white-coated, grey-maned stallion advance down the sun-baked cobblestones of the empty street, waiting for the opportunity to stall him. Finally, as he was about to pass the alleyway, she moved.

“Uh, excuse me? Mr. Blot?” Redheart trotted out from the alley, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

The stallion looked up sharply. He gave Redheart a once-over, his green eyes feeling like they were piercing right through her.

“Yes?” His voice had a clipped, detached feel to it, as though he was continuing several trains of thought at once, the conversation being the least important of them all. Definitely a professor, Redheart thought.

“Um.. well, I was wondering...” Oh, why the HELL did I not think of something beforehoof?! She mentally whacked her forehead for what felt like the tenth time that day. Ink Blot squinted, analyzing her, and Redheart had the sensation of being a particularly interesting specimen underneath a microscope. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Finally, the white stallion began to speak. And didn’t stop.

“Hmm. Don’t tell me. Out in the city, knows my name... are you a research assistant? Maybe affiliated with Canterlot Magicka? No, no visible insignias, no paperwork. A field tech? Nonono, no equipment, and of course non-optimal observation venue.” He spoke so quickly, and jumped from sentence to sentence so abruptly, that Redheart began to feel ill. “Non-scientific then. Maybe police or law enforcement? No, no uniform or visible weapons... you’re not a gang member, are you?”

Redheart felt the blood freeze in her veins. Why don’t they get it over with already, before he figures out and runs? She risked a look back at where she had last seen Candi and Blade. Nothing. “No, of course not. Cutie mark intact, no companions. Silly of me. Ah! Cutie mark!” Redheart breathed a silent sigh of relief as the Professor peered at her flank. “Crosses, hearts. Medical? Possibly. Nearest medical center is twenty, thirty minutes away. Maybe administrative business? No, again, no paperwork. So... you have no urgent calls, no paperwork, no equipment, non-civilian, obviously... lost, perhaps?” He looked at her with those piercing eyes. “Are you lost?”

“Um...” Redheart was still feeling slightly overwhelmed from the torrent of words the white unicorn had let loose. It’s like he voices every thought out loud at twice the speed of a normal pony! She eventually remembered to speak. “Uh, yes! I’m lost. I’m, uh... a student from Canterlot Medical Institute. I’m here on a... field observation study.”

Ink Blot regarded her critically. “Interesting. A student, who somehow knows my name, lost, no equipment, no notes...” He tutted. “Irrelevant. Not my policy to ask questions. Where do you need to go?”

“Great Central Station!” Redheart blurted out the first destination that came to mind. Where the buck are they? Is this some kind of sick test?

Ink Blot nodded. “GCS. Not too far off. Ten, fifteen minute trot at most. North from here, turn right, continue for a mile...” Redheart had stopped listening. She had seen a strange shadow in one of the alleys as the eccentric stallion had started his directions. She peered closer. Was that Blade? The shadow detached itself from the alley Redheart had been watching, moving into different stance. A sniper’s kneel.

It is. Buck. This is it. Now or never, Redheart.

“...Another right, and you’ve arrived. Understood?”

Redheart watched Blade pull what looked like a looked like a long, thin tube off his (or was it her?) back. She knew now, without a doubt, what it was and what it could do. Ink Blot’s voice came again. “Repeat. Understood?”

Redheart was frozen in place, watching the events unfold as if in slow motion. She saw Blade’s shadow bring its weapon up to eye level, pointing directly at the professor. Ink Blot spoke a third time, his voice concerned. “Are you all right? Hmm. No signs of injury, seems in competent mental health, possibly internal-”

I can’t do this.

Redheart made a snap decision.

“PROFESSOR, GET DOWN!” She wrapped her hoof around Ink Blot’s neck and shoved the older pony to the ground just as Blade’s shot rang out with an ear-splitting CRACK. Redheart estimated they had around thirty seconds before the two mobsters gave chase. More than enough time to lose them, if they were fast. “We have to run! NOW!”

Ink Blot got to his hooves, somehow still looking perfectly composed despite having just been shot at. He nodded quickly.

“Agreed. Alleyway to the left.”

The pair took off just as Blade’s second shot pinged off of the cobblestone street. As she ran, Redheart’s breathing settled into a soldier’s rhythm, deep and easy. She galloped through the darkened alleyways, feeling the adrenaline course through her like liquid fire. Ink Blot was not as conditioned, and Redheart soon found herself outpacing him easily. Finally, after several minutes of fear-fueled sprinting, he collapsed in an intersection, wheezing heavily. Redheart slowed to a trot, kneeling down near the exhausted unicorn. She frowned.

“You all right? Can you keep going?”

Ink Blot nodded once, then shook his head, too out of breath for words. The stallion didn’t look like he would be getting up any time soon.

Redheart’s mind raced. I can’t just abandon him here, but if we don’t get moving soon, we’ll both be dead. Ah, buck it. I’m not leaving him at the mercy of those idiots.
She spoke again. “All right, just stay here. Catch your breath. I’ll wait.”

Ink Blot shook his head again, still gasping. Then he spoke, his eyes cool despite the situation.

“No. You advised retreat from initial engagement. Indicates inferior strength, equipment, or tactics. No point in direct confrontation. Staying results in two deaths. Leaving... only one.” His voice faltered for a moment. “Go.”

Crap. He knows we’re screwed as much as I do. Probably figured it out twice as fast, too. He’s not making this easy.

“Look, I’m not leaving you here to die. Just give me a minute to think of something.”

“Very well. Your funeral.”

Redheart could already hear the distant hoofbeats, growing louder by the second. If they hesitated any longer, Ink Blot’s prediction would come true.

If we stay, we’re dead. If we run, we’re dead. Wait... if I run-

“There they are! KILL THAT DOUBLE-CROSSING BITCH!” Candi’s shriek echoed across the alley. Blade wouldn’t be far behind.

Redheart made another snap decision.

“Come on, Professor. You’re going for a ride.”

“Wha-?!”

Redheart grabbed the white stallion by the rear hooves, throwing him over her back in a firemare’s carry. He was surprisingly light, despite being at least twice her age. Then, without missing a beat, she took off down the maze of alleys.

Twisting and turning through the dark corridors, Redheart risked a glance behind her. There was nopony biting at her hooves yet, but she could still hear Candi’s increasingly angry shouts. The high-pitched shrieks bounced off the alley walls, making it impossible to tell whether she was ten meters behind or a hundred. Doesn’t matter. Gotta keep going, get to somewhere crowded. Redheart knew the mob ponies wouldn’t dare try anything in public, not with hundreds of potential witnesses. She saw light leaking from an alley a couple corners away and doubled her efforts, eager to escape the shadowy labyrinth.

Almost there... just a little farther, Redheart-

“GOT YOU NOW!”

Candi’s triumphant yell gave Redheart the boost she needed to rocket out of the alley and into the bright sunshine. Ponies all around her yelled in varying degrees of irritation as she bowled her way through them, eventually slowing to a stop at one side of a busy intersection.

Redheart sighed in relief, her heart rate gradually returning to normal. There must be at least three hundred ponies here. We’re safe. For now. Wait, where is ‘here’, anyway? She glanced at the sign and started in surprise.

Mane Street?! Wow, I must’ve run farther than I thought.

Redheart allowed herself a small smile. Candi was probably spitting in rage right now, so close to her quarry but unable to do anything but watch and wait. The smile faded, however, when she realized she was attracting more than a few stares from passersby. Redheart frowned. What are they looking at? She glanced down at her hooves and winced.. Oh. Right. Her forelegs were coated in a mixture of dirt, alley grime, and dried blood from the night before, and her body was criss-crossed with a myriad of scratches and scrapes. Add in her dramatic entrance and the shell-shocked stallion slung across her back, and it was a wonder somepony hadn’t called the Manehatten PD already.

“Uh, excuse me? Miss? Are you all right? Is he all right?” A young colt was looking up at her, his large eyes filled with concern. Wow, I must be a hell of a sight. Better get out of here soon and clean up, before I get thrown in jail. But where...

It was then Redheart had an idea. An impossibly stupid, totally idiotic, incredibly reckless idea. It also happened to be the only idea she could think of.

She smiled at the colt.

“Actually, you might be able to help me with that. Do you know how to get to Great Central Station from here?” Oh my Celestia this is a dumb plan.

The colt nodded enthusiastically. “Sure! Just keep going down Mane, then take a left once you hit 33rd and Cherry. It’s the huge building with the yellow clock tower. Can’t miss it.”

Redheart smiled. “Thank you. Now, run along before somepony sees you talking to a
weird street mare.”

“Uh, whatever you say, miss!” The colt darted off.

Ink Blot had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole affair. Redheart shifted the stallion’s weight on her back, bringing his head closer to her ear. He was breathing, slowly, but otherwise didn’t respond. Out cold. The delayed shock of almost dying must have hit him pretty hard. Probably for the best, anyway, considering I’m about to do something very, very, stupid. Ink Blot did not strike her as the type to entertain foolhardy ideas. Well, better get going.

She shifted the stallion back over her torso and set off at a brisk trot down Mane Street, ignoring the stares of ponies passing by. If anypony asks, I’m an off-duty EMT. That’s it. Just keep walking, Redheart. One hoof in front of the other. She sighed. I really need to find a new conversational partner.

Twenty minutes and two train tickets to Fillydelphia later, Redheart was sprawled out on a luxury sleeper car bed, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. Has it really only been a day and a half? Guess time kinda skips when you spend most of it a hair away from death. She giggled. Oh Celestia, listen to me. Barely a day back in action, and I’m already spouting battlefield cliches like a washed-up old vet.

Ink Blot’s groan from the opposite bed interrupted Redheart’s musings. Oh good, he’s coming to. Wouldn’t want this trip to be too boring. Or quiet. She leaned over from her bed, trying to catch a glimpse of the stallion. “Hey. You awake?”

Ink Blot jerked up from the bed, eyes darting around as he attempted to take in all of his surroundings at once. “What... Hold on. Rectangular room, apparently modular construction, sensation of movement... who exactly are you?” His eyes flashed in a mix of confusion and anger. “And why in Equestria are we on a train?”

Redheart rolled her eyes. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ And to answer your question, I’m the pony who saved your sorry flank from getting shot, and we’re on a train because I have a plan that will hopefully result in neither of us dying within the next forty-eight hours.”

Ink Blot frowned, processing this turn of events. “I see. Please, inform me further about this ‘plan’.”

Redheart obliged. “Well, calling it a ‘plan’ might be exaggerating a bit. It’s more like an ‘idea I had while you were unconscious on my back and we were a couple minutes away from probably going to jail.’ But that’s not really important. What is important is that we get to Fillydelphia as soon as possible.”

“Fillydelphia? Second-largest city in Equestria, birthplace of the Neo-Ponyism movement, extensive historical brick-and-mortar sewer system... Why?”

“I have a contact. Somepony who might be able to help us with our situation.”

“...Situation? Elaborate.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re both marked ponies now,” Redheart explained. “I’m wanted for disobeying the Family, whoever they are, and you... Wait. Why did the Manehatten Mob want to kill you, anyway?” She had been meaning ask Ink Blot about that since they met, but recent events hadn’t exactly given her the opportunity. The stallion shrugged his thin shoulders.

“Wish I knew. Never had any dealings with them. No unpaid debts, no favors, no intentional provocation, nothing. They didn’t want experimental tech... would have taken me alive.”

“Experimental tech?” This just gets weirder and weirder. “I thought you were a professor. Just what kind of ‘tech’ would be worth killing for?”

Ink Blot shifted uncomfortably on his bed. “Ah. Not sure I’m at liberty to say. Still highly confidential, you understand. Proper clearance, et cetera.”

“Look, we’re both on the same side here. The more I know about why Garnet wanted you dead, the better chance we both stand of getting out of this alive.”

“Garnet?”

“He’s- Wait. I’ll only tell you who Garnet is if you tell me why your work is worth murder.”

Ink Blot smile. “Understood. Both of us have knowledge that would benefit the other. I propose a deal. You tell me everything you’ve witnessed since first contact with the mob, I summarize my work and its applications. As you said, hiding knowledge from allies is counterproductive. Agreed?”

Redheart grunted in irritation. Oh Celestia damn it, he’s right and he knows it. Guess I don’t have a choice if I want him to stick around.

“Agreed. All right, it started late last night...” Redheart proceeded to retell the events of the past day and a half in as much detail as possible. Ink Blot listened intently, occasionally pausing to clarify a point. When she had finished, the stallion was nodding thoughtfully in comprehension.

“Interesting. Any theories about the contents of those samples?”

“No idea. I’m a nurse, not a lab pony. They could’ve been anything from a retrovirus to a vaccine to last night’s dishwater. But enough about my adventures. It’s your turn, professor.”

Ink Blot nodded again. “Suppose I owe it to you. So, an overview: As you said, I am a professor at Canterlot Institute for Emerging Magical Technologies, or CIEM-Tech. Our primary focus is the testing and development of practical applications for experimental spells and arcanomechanical devices. Are you familiar with records and record players?”

“Um... sure, I guess.”

He smiled proudly. “One of our finest innovations. Sonic vibrations are captured by a web of magic, translated into pitch-velocity-corresponding runes, and etched onto an easily portable medium. The player then re-traces the microscopic symbols with its needle, activating them in sequence to produce sound. Took years to develop a universal runic system that wouldn’t mutate or decay with prolonged use. Secret was in introducing redundant reliance between all possible benign magical pairs-”

Ink Blot noticed Redheart’s eyes glazing over slightly and cleared his throat. “Ahem. Digression. Apologies. As I was saying, our primary work is in experimental technologies. All types. Transportation, communication, navigation, even weaponry. Doesn’t matter. If a tech is publicly available, it was reviewed and analyzed by the entire department. Of course, most isn’t public. Usually too unstable, too untested to introduce. My current project especially.”

“And what project would that be?” Redheart asked, curious.

Ink Blot coughed uncomfortably.. “Really shouldn’t be telling you this... personal assignment from Celestia herself. Code name, ‘Lock and Key’. Low-energy, high-radius variant of a standard shield spell. If cast correctly, has the potential to completely nullify nearly any branch of magic using a modified mimic charm and backscattered arcane energy. Essentially, in an ideal setting, would prevent any magic of a specific type from being performed correctly, or at all, within the designated area. Applications too many to list. Still in the very early experimental stages, obviously, but progress is steady. Well, was steady. Assassination attempts have a way of derailing schedules.” He chuckled at his own joke. “I believe that covers everything. Satisfied?”

Redheart, deep in thought, almost didn’t hear the professor’s question. “...I guess so. You think that’s why they tried to kill you? To shut down the project?”

Ink Blot frowned. “Possible, but highly unlikely. Nopony outside of CIEM-Tech is aware of Lock and Key. All project information very tightly controlled, all members thoroughly background-checked. Leaks almost unheard of.”

Redheart sighed dejectedly. “Huh. Guess we’re back where we started, then.”

Ink Blot nodded in agreement. “Appears that way. Still, any information is good information. May be useful later on.”

If there is a later on. Hopefully riding to Fillydelphia will throw those assholes off our trail for a while, Redheart thought. She wasn’t exactly optimistic about their chances of surviving another encounter with the Family. With a huge yawn, she turned to Ink Blot and said, “Well, as fun-filled and action-packed as today has been, I think both of us should try and get some rest. I know I need it.”

Ink Blot nodded again, barely suppressing a yawn himself. “Agreed.” He lay back down on his bed, turning off the light with a flicker of green magic.

“Good night, Ink Blot.”

“Good night... ah. Never did get your name.”

“It’s Redheart.” No point in keeping secrets after what I’ve already told him. Well,
most secrets, anyway.

“Good night, Redheart.”

Redheart lay in her bed, letting all the stress of the past twenty-four hours leech out into the soft cotton. From nurse to almost-assassin to fugitive all in a day. Hopefully tomorrow won’t be quite as exciting. She sighed into her pillow. Yeah, right. Yawning one last time, she rolled over and let the soft, soothing motion of the train lull her to sleep.