Much to Elrod’s chagrin, the first order of business was to investigate the scene of the crime. He resisted this wholeheartedly, as in his mind he was sure that whoever had tried to murder him was waiting there for him to go back. Twilight, however, was dismissive of this concern and eventually Elrod was forced to accompany her. Refusing to do so would either result in her abandoning the case, or in its failure as there was no one else to show her where the crime scene actually was. Reasoning with her was impossible, as it was clear that her mind was already made up.

The return trip was surprisingly short. Twilight was far superior at navigating Bridgeport’s public transportation system than Elrod had been. Whereas Elrod had spent a great deal of time doubling back- -intentionally sometimes but mostly on accident- -and wandering lost through unfamiliar streets between stations, Twilight knew exactly where to go every time. She never once paused to look at a timetable or schedule, and always seemed to arrive right as the trains or large-scale cargo elevators were leaving their stations. The greatest reason for her success, though, was that while Elrod had limited himself only to the bottom fifteen levels of the city, Twilight was willing to use the public transportation channels on all of them. Elrod had not considered that idea, nor would he have been able to understand the complex network of systems involved even if he had tried.

It took them less than three hours to arrive back in Steel Point, and Elrod once again found himself walking through the dimly lit streets. Twilight walked ahead of him. She stared ahead, periodically producing thin wisps of cigarette smoke.

Twilight shivered and held her wings closely against the rear of her coat. “Damn it,” she muttered to herself. “I hate the rain.”

“The storm will last the better part of the week,” said Elrod. “They always do.”

“When you said L7, I was assuming it would be dry.”

“No. It’s condensation, from- -”

“I know what it is. Do you know what the machine that makes all this water actually does?”

“No.”

Twilight released another puff of smoke. “It’s better that you don’t.”

Elrod did not ask further, because if she said he did not want to know then he was apt to believe her.

“You actually live in this pit?” asked Twilight after a long moment of silent walking. She looked over her shoulder at Elrod.

“Yes. My apartment is four blocks ahead, and to the left.”

“I can’t believe they actually built residential facilities down here,” sighed Twilight. She turned back to the road as a rickety automated truck past them, its headlights illuminating the cracked and wet pavement as well as the water running down Twilight’s trenchcoat. “Do you know what this place used to be?”

“A mechanical level for the factories on L8.”

“But do you know what they used to make?”

Elrod paused for a moment, trying to remember if any of the oldtimers had mentioned it. “No,” he said at last. “I don’t.”

“Steel Point levels nine through eleven used to be slaughterhouses. Big ones. The kind that seem to go on forever. Millions of cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, every day. L8 was below. They processed everything that wasn’t meat. Bones, skin, guts, everything. Seventy years ago this was all bioreactors making Celestia-knows-what.”

Twilight had been intending to produce an emotional response, but Elrod felt nothing. Although he did not eat meat, the slaughtering of animals did not concern him. In fact, it was something he had always wanted to see. For some reason he had the impression that it would be funny.

“Did they make any products that I would recognize?”

“Fertilizer, mostly. And chemicals. A lot of chemicals. This whole area is a level six hazard zone. I’m surprised you lived as long as you did down here.”

“I’m actually not a native to this area. I’ve only lived here for four years.”

“Really. Where are you from, then?”

“Idaho.”

Twilight did not pause or break step in the slightest, but Elrod knew that she understood the implication of what he was saying. There were few alive in the modern era who would not.

“I see,” said Twilight. “Then you’re a refugee, from the War.”

“In a sense.”

“Then I’m surprised you care so much about someone getting offed. I’ve been to the Middle West. Even in peacetime you have to walk over the bodies.”

“I would not know,” said Elrod. “I lived under the Monsanto vassal. It was very safe.”

“And yet you left and came here.”

Elrod paused, wondering if he had said too much. Twilight did not push him further, but she did offer a warning. “For the record, trench,” she said, “don’t volunteer information. Information is like cash, and you just handed it over for free with one leading question. That’s stupid, and it can get you killed.”

“I did not realize you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m not. Actually, at this point I’d make more money if you died from selling your organs.”

“Then why do you not kill me now?”

Twilight paused for a frighteningly long moment. “Professional courtesy,” she said at last, and left it at that.

They remained silent until they Skylight park and found themselves standing in front of the same flickering streetlight where just a few days prior Elrod had made the worst decision of his life.

“It’s here,” said Elrod. He slowly turned to the dark alley nearby and pointed. “Or, rather, there.”

Twilight looked down the alley, and then up at the light. Her pupils narrowed, and the light went out before coming back on with a bright and powerful glow.

“Your power system in this district sucks. It’s not meant to have all these buildings attached to it.” She then turned and crossed the street.

“Wait!” said Elrod, jogging to keep up with her. “Be careful! There are technovores on this level!”

“There have not been technovores in Steel Point for fifty years. They can’t coexist with harvester spiders. As soon as the spiders show up, the niche is destroyed.”

“Then aren’t you worried about the spiders?”

“No. Of course not.”

Twilight entered the alley and stood at the edge of the shadows. She reached into her pocket and produced a small sphere. She held it up, and a tiny engine inside whirred as it lifted into the air. Once it was about three meters off the ground, it ignited with an incredibly bright and incredibly harsh white light.

“Great,” said Elrod, shielding his eyes. “Now they can see us.”

“If your story is true, then they already saw you in perfect darkness.” Twilight looked down at the ground. “And at this point I’m having serious doubts about your story.”

Elrod looked around, confused. “Why?”

“Because of what’s not here.”

It took a second for Elrod to understand. Then he realized it. “The body.”

“Exactly.”

“They must have cleaned it up.”

“I checked the sanitation logs on the way here. No way they would miss picking up a pony.”

“Unless they weren’t the ones who picked it up.” Elrod pointed. “There’s rivers over there. Drainage canals. They could have just thrown her in.”

“Possibly,” said Twilight.

“Or,” said Elrod, grasping, “maybe the harvester spiders took her.”

“That makes more sense,” said Twilight. “Except that the spiders don’t take blood.”

“Blood?”

“You said this pony bled. That’s not possible, but I’m not seeing any blood.”

“It’s raining. It would have washed away.”

“To your primitive eyes.” Twilight pointed at her hovering light. The tiny engine inside it changed pitch as it adjusted course to follow her as she walked across the alley. “There’s a reason that thing is so bright. I’m scanning on multiple fluorescent wavelengths. Trust me, I know what blood looks like. The rain here isn’t so bad. There would be residue that I would pick up.”

“And you don’t see any?”

“Did I stutter?”

Something buzzed loudly from above. Elrod cried out in surprise, but Twilight nonchalantly stepped to the side. Forth descended from above. Despite being distinctly birdlike, her wings functioned more like those of a large insect. They had to beat incredibly quickly to support her.

Forth touched down on the pavement with a thud and looked at Elrod and Twilight. She was dressed in a feminine looking coat that actually- -and probably purely by chance- -matched her coat quite well. It only exacerbated the fact that she was not wearing pants, though.

“Forth,” said Twilight. “Did you find anything?”

“Negative,” said Forth, sounding neither disappointed nor pleased. “There were no signs of anyone being up there. Not for a long time. Although I did see a man who had a rooftop pigeon coop. The pigeons were cute. They have tiny heads.”

“That’s old man Derrek,” sighed Elrod. “He’s as deaf as a post and about as blind as one too.”

“That explains why speaking to him was so difficult. He claims to have seen nothing out of the ordinary.”

“We’re not having much success down here either,” said Elrod.

“I never said that.” Twilight crossed to one of the dirty, corroded walls that surrounded them on either side. “That’s why I’m still here. There’s no body, and no blood, but one part of your story checks out.”

“What do you mean?”

Twilight pointed at the wall. Elrod looked, but did not see anything. “There’s nothing there.”

“Look closer.”

Elrod did. His vision was generally not good, but after a few second he noticed that the concrete looked strange. It was pitted with a number of tiny, perfectly spaced holes.

“I’ve never seen corrosion like that,” he said.

“Because it’s not corrosion. If you looked around this alley, you’d see them everywhere.”

“It’s true,” said Forth. “I see them too. What are they?”

“Impact holes. From an organized kinetic dispersion round.”

“An OKD?” Forth seemed intrigued by this. “Here?”

“There’s nothing else it could be.” Twilight ran her hoof over the tiny holes. She spoke to Elrod without looking at him. “You could probably confirm it. If you were to take this concrete apart, you’d find tiny uranium-tungsten needles inside. Not enough to trade if for scrap, but enough to rip somebody’s torso clean in half.”

“In half?” Elrod gulped and felt faint.

“That’s what they do. It’s designed to enter a target and detonate at a program-controlled depth. It detonates axially, making a ring of impact holes and ripping apart whatever it was fired in. There is a zero percent survivability rate on impact.” She paused. “That’s also part of the problem.”

“What?”

“There are two rings here. Meaning two bullets. You said one hit this ‘pony’. You never mentioned a second one.”

Elrod stiffened. “They must have missed one shot.”

“OKD rounds don’t miss. Ever.”

“But why would they be here?” asked Forth, repeating herself. “That type of projectile is not cheap. My inventory lists indicate a cost of nine hundred thousand two hundred eighty-six vod per shot.”

“NINE HUNDRED AND- -” Elrod gasped and started choking from hearing the price alone.

“It’s to be expected,” said Twilight. “They aren’t exactly something you can generate on a home manufacturing system. If you could even find a schematic for one. But if you needed to blow the spine out of a target whose eighty feet underground in a steel-lined bunker wearing a bulletproof vest, that’s what you need.”

“Was that what the target was here?” asked Forth.

“I don’t know,” said Twilight. “There’s no body to examine. But judging from the surroundings and the fact that this guy saw it, no.” Twilight paused for a long moment. “No, it doesn’t make sense at all.”

She started walking toward the rear of the alley, looking upward and around at the walls as she did. When she reached the dropoff at the end, she turned back. “You said there are drainage canals down here? Is that how you got out?”

“Yes,” said Elrod. “I think they followed me.”

“Did you see them?”

“Not clearly. It was too dark.”

“Your optic implants didn’t pick them up?”

“I don’t have optic implants.”

Twilight sighed. “Figures.”

“I do remember there were more than one,” said Elrod. “And they were very tall and very thin.”

“Secgens?” suggested Forth.

“Maybe,” muttered Twilight. “I don’t know yet. I don’t like this.” She looked up at Elrod. “Do you know the way you went?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Show me.”

Traveling through the drainage canals had become even more difficult. They had swollen with water, and some of them had become clogged by the various strange flotsam that the condensation storms tended to dredge up. In many places rivers had become grimy and disgusting lakes. In a few places, people had constructed makeshift bridges years before based on knowledge of this fact, but more often Elrod was not so lucky.

Both Twilight and Forth were able to fly. Blossomforth actually spent most of her time in the air, departing to check the tops of buildings, catwalks, and exposed pipes for any sign that anyone had been standing on or near them. Twilight seemed to prefer not to fly as often; she only did so when it was absolutely necessary to cross deeper puddles. Being unable to fly, Elrod either had to find his way around or wade through reeking knee-deep wastewater. Several times he felt something touch his leg, and once he could have sworn he saw an eel.

In time, they emerged in SteelPoint City, although in a different place than Elrod had come up before. That particular one was now flooded with rushing water now well over his head, and trying that exit would have doubtlessly carried him to the Depths or to the ocean or wherever the wastewater eventually went.

At this point, Elrod stayed close to Twilight and Forth. It was nighttime for most people, so the streets were less crowded and those that were on them tended to be far more drunk than before. Still, Elrod was afraid. He took comfort in the fact that neither Twilight nor Forth seemed especially bothered by it. For Forth, her resistance to the noise and lights seemed to come from distracted indifference. Walking along this street was the same as crawling grimy rooftops or sitting in her office chair. Twilight, though, seemed to move with a distinct confidence that Elrod found both thoroughly impressive and terrifying at the same time.

“This place seems fun,” said Forth. “Lots of people. Lots of stores. I should come here to shop sometime.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Twilight. “You’ll either get ripped off or end up with your legs and eyes being sold at a discount.”

“Oh,” said Forth. “Well, I suppose that is not good. Anyway I like the other place better. Quiet. And it had a little garden. There were trees, and flowers. I liked the flowers. I suppose that’s why I have one on my rump.” She pointed, and Elrod saw that she did indeed have a pink flower printed on her rear.

“Is that a tattoo?” asked Elrod. “Do all ponies have that?”

“Not all,” said Forth. “But some. It is traditional. I am traditional.”

“Do you have one, Twilight?”

“I’m not going to show you my rump, if that’s what you’re asking,” hissed Twilight. Elrod did not know why she sounded so angry at the thought.

Although they had arrived to SteelPoint City in a different location, Elrod quickly found his way to the industrial section and to the elevator where the drone had attempted to kill him. He was able to call it, and it arrived. He and the two ponies rode on it in silence. It looked like it had before: like a normal elevator. Elrod had hoped that there would be stains from the fluids the drone had leaked when he had destroyed it, and there probably were- -amidst decades of other stains from various sources that all seemed to merge together on the floor.

They eventually disembarked in one of the lower parts of Support Station Twelve. As soon as they did, Twilight crossed the bridge and entered a small service catwalk that looped around to a large utility junction.

“What are you doing?” asked Elrod.

“You didn’t notice? The elevator had security cameras.”

Elrod looked back at it just as the doors were closing and as it rose upward. He did not see them, but of course they had to be there. This was part of a large utility station that most likely belonged to Aetna-Cross. There was no reason why there would not be security cameras.

Twilight entered a small alcove of the machinery that resembled an angular “U”. Instead of accessing the interface, she approached a service panel. She opened it and stared for a moment, flipping open various ports until she found one she liked. Then, as Elrod watched, something silver and segmented snaked out from below the hair that covered her neck. Elrod almost cried out, not knowing what it was, but he contained himself and watched as the prehensile metal appendage snaked out and plugged itself into one of the access ports.

“This device is wireless compatible,” noted Forth.

“Hardline is always better,” said Twilight as though it were obvious. She paused and took out another cigarette. It lit automatically as she removed it from the pack and she took a deep breath.

“That will kill you, you know,” said Elrod.

“I don’t even have real lungs,” said Twilight. “Ponies get cancer about as often as toasters do.”

“Then why bother? Toasters aren’t exactly affected by nicotine either.”

“I do it because I like to. And it’s none of your business.”

Several holographic images opened up on the interface. Elrod looked at them, and saw that they were a recording from the corner of one of the elevators.

“I searched through all recorded video and found the one with you in it,” said Twilight. “I figured I should show you what I saw so that you can explain this.”

The video began to play. There was no sound, but it was in color, or at least the strange fluctuating way that holograms tended to render color. Elrod reached to the top of the interface and wiped the projector with the corner of his coat, causing it to flicker for a moment before stabilizing.

He saw the elevator, just as it had been that day. The engineer Fluttershy was standing in the center of the elevator, and the drone in the rear right corner. Although the motion of the elevator was not perceptible from the image, Elrod assumed that it was moving.

Then he saw it stop. He could tell because a light on its floor selection panel indicated so. The door opened, and he saw himself step on.

“Damn,” he said. “I’m that ugly?”

“Pretty much,” said Twilight.

“I don’t think you look that bad,” said Forth. “For a human, anyway.”

Elrod continued to watch the video. He saw himself step in and stand near the Fluttershy. They spoke to each other, as he remembered, and went silent for a moment. He saw the Fluttershy reach for her head as though she were beginning to develop a migraine.

And nothing happened. He continued to stand there, impassive for a moment, until he spoke with her again. She turned and smiled and said something in return before they both went silent again. The drone never once moved from its spot, its optics slowly scanning its surroundings but never landing on anything in particular.

After a few minutes, the elevator stopped. The Fluttershy stepped off, and the door closed. It went up several more levels, and when it stopped Elrod departed calmly. The drone was left standing alone as the elevator rose one more floor, where it got off while a pair of heavily modified human engineers stepped on in its place.

“It- -it didn’t happen like that!” cried Elrod.

“The video is clear,” said Forth. “No attack was made, from the drone or otherwise.”

“But it did attack me! I tried to shoot it! I DID shoot it! I- -I killed it!”

“You can’t kill a drone,” said Twilight.

Elrod’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me.”

` Twilight disconnected herself from the system and the holograms flickered out. “There’s a saying,” she said, after a moment. “It goes something like: don’t believe anything you hear, and believe less of what you see.”

“I do not understand,” said Forth. “The video was conclusive. There was no fight. Mr. Jameson never approached either the Fluttershy or the drone.”

“Exactly,” said Twilight. One corner of her mouth turned upward in the slightest of smiles. “But then how did he get her pistol?”