Aleksei’s eyes fluttered open as a ray of sunlight sneaked its way past the curtains and landed its awakening shot. Right between the eyes, from the other end of the solar system. The gears in the hippogriff’s mind slowly started turning, their pace sluggish, affected by a solid hangover.

A groan escaped her beak. Partying on rum alone… turns out that gets to you faster than beer. Still, despite the aftereffects of her bout of drunkenness, she felt… surprisingly comfy and warm, all snuggled on her side under the covers and…

She felt breathing ruffle her crest feathers.

Oh no. Oh please no. No no no, Epona almighty she did notdo what she was think-

“Good morning darling...” She heard Morvarc’h say in a husky voice. Epona. Fucking. Dammit.

The larger stallion was right behind her, with his forehooves wrapped around her frame and his muzzle pressed in the crook of her neck. Worse for her case, she woke up to herself leaning into his embrace. She was being bloody spooned, and parts of herself that went in the opposite direction of where she wanted her life to go actually liked it.

And her hindquarters were sore, laying over a wet spot in the sheets.

“Hi Morv’…” She squeaked out, rather uncharacteristically, her voice barely audible as she surveyed her surroundings.

Not unsurprisingly, the two of them still were in that small dusty apartment they had commandeered. And there she was sharing a bed with the demigod, in a room where the scent of sex intermingled with Morv’s heavy musk. She inhaled sharply. More primal parts of her relished the smell. All around the room laid discarded bottles of rum, Aleksei’s arousal-stained robes and Morvarc’h’s own leather armor that he’d come dressed in.

“Did we?”

“Oh yes, and you were wonderful at it.” The stallion clutched her tighter. “I knew alcohol had a habit of making humans ease up on their inhibitions, but you… you’re a cute mare when you loosen up.” He chuckled, forehooves straying down her sides and towards her rump, tracing the curve of her flanks. “I must say… mother’s influence has really made you a mare to behold. You don’t see figures like that very often.”

Aleksei’s breath caught in her throat.

“And you know of my intentions of not staying a mare any longer than I can help it.” She scowled, flipping around to face him.

The Earth Pony just smiled wider and planted a kiss at the base of her beak, his red eyes full of mirth and his russet mane in disarray from their night together. She was mad, at him of course, but also towards herself for thinking she could outdrink a demigod. And that inner self, that budding little set of instincts and feeling in the back of her mind… that one she blamed for pushing her drunk self to fuck her sworn divinity’s son… foal… colt… whichever term fit the bill.

Inner self that she blamed for not leaping out of the bed right then and there… and yet she couldn’t drive herself to do it. Even as she felt her inner regions already moisten in reaction to the stallion’s hardening and…

Oh goodness did she really take it all in the night prior? Morv’ really was a demigod all over~

“It’s such a shame...” The stallion breathed huskily. “You’re such a fine mare, and I only wanted to thank you for guiding me through society at the party. After all...” He leaned deeper into their embrace, the size difference between the two such that he could nearly encompass the smaller hippogriff fully, and she was bloody tall by her species’ standards thanks to Epona. “… a wild, powerful stallion such as myself could use your guidance.”

Inner Aleksei (as she had dubbed it) practically squealed out like a little girl at his words, yet she did her best to repress the influence and get back in control despite her growing arousal. She gritted her beak and tore her eyes away from his, even though the more feminine parts of her mind were screaming at her and begging her to drag her talons all over his lithe yet muscular courser’s frame.

Yeah, good luck with that, lady. The alcohol is gone and I’m back in control. She thought to herself stubbornly.

“I think that’s quite enough now.” She spoke out, putting her talons between her and the stallion.

And ignoring that thing they brushed against. She did not want to dwell on that. Shedid not take that enormous thing inside her the night prior. It hadn’t made her squeal her lungs out. Don’t feed the inner Aleksei, she’s had enough for a good while. Better repress those parts of her mind for a month or two, lest she get into even more conflict with her geas and her drive to turn back into a male than she needed to.

“Aww… pity.” Morv shook his head ruefully. “And here I was all riled up.”

“Then you’ll have to learn what all civilized males do when they’re told no.” Aleksei said, standing up from the bed and stretching herself much like a cat would. “Rub one out if you want.”

“Oh I never heard about that one.” He rolled onto his belly and eyed her up while she got rid of the kinks from the previous night, fidgeting this way and that to rub his hard on against the mattress. “Can I get lessons?”

And he could see his contribution ooze out of her aft end below her tail. She felt it too, at about the same time all memories from the night prior filtered in. Much to her relief actually. She had cast a contraception spell. Her being a hippogriff, alcohol alone might have brought her to the calorie intake threshold needed to trigger a heat cycle.

Epona would surely have loved her first cleric in this age to give her grandchildren. Aleksei? Not so much.

“Nice try, but I’m not showing you.” She smoothed down her chest feathers with her talons. “Damn I need a shower.” She groaned while collecting her clothes before she made a beeline for the bathroom.

Good foresight had it that they restored running water in the building for the occasion. A quick fix for the convenience of those like her who had stayed well after the party, which she soon enjoyed as her hooves and talons clicked against the bathroom’s tiled floor and she let her form be cooled down by droplets that drove off the tropical Cuban heat.

And calmed down her arousal. Nothing like a cold shower to quiet down inner Aleksei. She needed it, particularly given that Morv’ had decided to masturbate to the sight of her taking a shower and that for all she wanted to, she couldn’t drive herself to tell him to bugger off.

Again: blame inner Aleksei.

So she focused on the next best thing and turned her back to him as she lathered soap over her wings, despite the sounds the stallion was making as he…

“You call that masturbating?” She chortled, accidentally looking behind her in a lapse of attention.

“Eh! I only recently became a pony, last I checked horses don’t have that kind of range of motion!” He protested. “And what am I even doing wrong?”

The hippogriff quickly turned away before inner Aleksei could peek at the thing dangling between his hind legs for too long.

“Less about...” She muttered distastefully, vaguely gesturing with her talons. “… shaft, more about the head.”

Fucker was bigger than she ever was as a male…

“Why, thank you for the advice.” He smiled broadly, dropping down on his belly and forgetting about his masturbation. “You know, it’s actually kind of sad.”

Aleksei sneaked a glance. The smile was still present, though faint, more serious.

“What is?”

“Last night I got a look at you. The true you, without all the blocks you’re putting upon yourself and you stubbornly stick to for a reason I can’t understand. You were happy weren’t you? We even danced.”

She knew. She hadn’t drunk past the point where she’d have forgotten everything. Then again, right now she wished she had.

For a few minutes, the large demigod stallion stayed silent, Aleksei not even looking in his direction. She got through most of her shower before he finally broke the silence.

“I just don’t understand, is all.” Morv’ continued. “You’re one of the most clever mares I’ve ever laid eyes on in all my existence, you could be happy – don’t lie, I saw how you were at the party-, yet for some reason you’ve decided it was better to force this quest of yours upon yourself? I have no idea why in all the Gods of the Otherworld you’re doing this, and if you really minded you would have freaked out this morning. You’d have bucked me out of this bathroom the moment I stepped in...”

“I was born male Morv’!” She exclaimed, a bit more forcefully than she intended to. “I was born with a dick, and I’ll make sure I go back that way. That’s the way it’s meant to be.” She said, voice trembling as she turned off the shower and grabbed a towel which she wrapped around her hindquarters.

“Or at least that’s the way you think.” He whispered, behind her, all of a sudden fully clothed in the leather armor he’d come wearing.

She hadn’t even noticed. She startled, rounding up on her hooves and eliciting a cocky grin from the stallion.

“I took a geas anyway. I am going through with my decision, and it can’t be changed now.” Aleksei insisted, looking up at his tall form. “That’s the way it works. Can we talk about something else? Like… what are you going to do now?”

“If you want, sure.” He nodded his head, giving her enough space to put on her robes before the two of them went back into the adjacent bedroom. “I’m not staying in Cuba of course. Mother has it that my presence is required in Brittany.”

“Why? The colony in Broceliande?” They might have some use for a pony like him, sure, but the WSU wasn’t privy to most of the stuff that went on inside the enchanted forest.

“You heard of them?”

“Over the radio.”

“Interesting… but no. They fall under Cernunnos’ purview. Judging by what Mother’s implied over the last few days, the Gods need me to rebuild the city of Ys.” Morv told her.

“The sunken city?”

“Yes. In another lifetime I used to serve its King before it was swallowed by the waves. Helped his escape too, so I’d wager with a bit of luck I could find the castle’s ruins and restore the wards that kept it afloat.” He explained, rearranging his mane in its usual spiky self that he kept in line with a leather band around his head. “They failed when magic started having its hiccups around Europe, if you hadn’t guessed.”

“Sounds like quite the adventure.”

“You’re one to talk, with all your sailing around the world and your quest.” Morv’ rumbled. “Not going to be easy though. My magic is limited, so I’ll have to find a mage when I get there.”

She then watched him ignite one hoof with magic, its color a dull red that neatly matched his russet mane and eye color. With it he fired off a bolt that expanded into a swirling portal, the landscape beyond that clearly belonging to Epona’s plateau in the Otherworld.

“Then I guess it’s goodbye and good luck, Morv’, I hope this works out for you.”

“It will. I’m sure it will.” He turned his back to the portal. “I like you. You’re a complicated creature, but I sense there is more to my mother accepting you into her fold than meets the eye. Here...” He extended a hoof.

Aleksei looked down. Dangling from his proffered hoof was a bronze charm in the shape of a galloping stallion, its metal shimmering with Morvarc’h’s reddish magic.

“If you ever need me, use this charm and I’ll come to your aid.” He answered her questioning look after she took it in her talons. “Then...”

She was still inspecting the charm when the stallion planted a kiss on her beak.The statuesque hippogriff instantly went rigid.

“Fare well. I’ll miss you, Alie.” He said before disappearing into his portal.

In an instant, it was closed, leaving a blank-faced hippogriff in the middle of the bedroom as the magic glow of the portal was replaced by the warm rays of the rising sun.

Internally, inner Aleksei was giggling like a schoolgirl that just lost her virginity… which she technically had.

She tied the bronze charm around the base of her wing, hidden beneath her plumage. On the nightstand, her phone vibrated. A message from Angelo. There was still work to do in Havana.

Few hours later, in the Otherworld, Epona found herself looking down in her scrying pond, watching both her adventuring son and a certain world-exploring hippogriff cleric.

She smiled.

Morvarc’h had stopped long enough on his way through for her to ask how it had gone… and much as she expected, her son was enamored with Aleksei. Hopelessly so, from the way he’d started ranting about her virtues.

Just as planned.

Behind her, more of her herd were steadily starting to turn into all four pony tribes, instead of the regular horses they used to be. A better way to spread her influence, and none of them seemed to mind the change. Epona herself would stick to her original horse form though.

This was a good time to be a horse goddess. And judging by what her scrying pond was showing… all pieces were duly falling into place.

After all, if this hadn’t worked out, Aleksei wouldn’t have accepted Morvarc’h’s charm.

The biggest part of the construction work in Havana had been all about the old Spanish fort and making it into a stronghold for the locals, and with that done, work quickly spread out to lesser tasks around the many barricaded city blocks the locals stuck to. Work that, by and large, only required the assistance of engineering folks: improving the electric grid with retrofitted train engines, make sure every connection was running properly and that fuel tanks were available wherever necessary, secure a fuel depot with enough tanker trucks to supply all generators as per necessary, jury-rig something for all blocks to ensure they had running water as well...

It was no small amount of tasks, but nothing explicitly urgent. They weren’t racing against the clock or anything like that, though infrastructure improvements did take priority over giving Havana an industrial output. Roberto’s ideas of reopening canneries and distilleries would have to wait.

And while the engineering teams got busy with water and electricity, the deck folks’ activities took on a rural tinge for the foreseeable future in that they went out of town and into the countryside to help secure the logistics side of things, as well as the food supply, among other things.

Logistics was a straightforward affair, if lengthy. All the disjointed city blocks made for a decentralized form of a colony, and they had to be linked together to keep in touch somehow. With vehicles. Problem was… Cuba was noteworthy for its lackluster motor pool. What few vehicles remained in the country because no one had been behind the wheel at the time of the Event were positively ancient machines scattered all across the countryside.

It thus fell to several recce teams (one per ship actually) to scour the entire region for the few good vehicles that were to be found and to somehow get them back to Havana -somehow- where they could be patched up inside Amandine’s repair bay.

They even used the Super Tucano for aerial reconnaissance.

Havana needed these trucks, in pretty much the same manner that Belfast did back when they helped the city: with a tiny population and a decaying infrastructure, fuel and water had to be delivered via tanker trucks (same deal for evacuating sewage too) to each city block the locals had taken residence in.

Add to that a few regular cars and trucks to the mix, and you’d have a general idea of the motor pool the sailors were in search of to bring back to Amandine for repairs before they handed them off to the locals. If a few of those vintage cars Cuba was so famous for disappeared in the process, nobody spoke up. Not even if their trunks just so happened to be filled with cigars and rum.

Quiros didn’t voice any protest to that little tidbit. The tradeoff of a few old cars and luxuries was well worth it in his opinion.

As for the plantation itself…

A convoy composed of several lorries (again: thank Amandine’s ability to transport a motor pool) reached the place the afternoon following the party. It wasn’t that far out of town, a mere quarter of an hour drive away from the cruise terminal, towards the middle of the island, up in the small hillocks that constituted the landscape south of the capital.

Cuba did have some hillier areas, of course, but Havana had been founded in one of the flatter parts of the island, around where the Guaniguanico mountain range sloped down on its eastern portions. The result around the plantation was a series of smooth inclines and shallow dips in the terrain, rolling plains covered in pastures that looked like some sort of Caribbean savanna. Nature was only just starting to reclaim it: a few interspersed copses of trees here and there broke up the sight lines, whenever the terrain wasn’t occupied by abandoned sugarcane or tobacco fields, or the odd abandoned, decrepit farmsteads, their frail wooden structures now well past the point of repair, covered under vines and shrubs and weeds.

The plantation wasn’t one of those isolated farmsteads, unlike Greet had assumed when she first reached the place. It was a fully-fledged farming cooperative, with several colorfully-painted, solid stone buildings (albeit in drab soviet architecture) erected along the banks of a reservoir.

“Amai, this ain’t really what I expected… it’s actually better.” Greet commented, talons on her hips after she’d hopped off the truck and gotten a good look of the place.

In contrast with the shanty town or rundown shacks she had expected from rural Cuba, this was actually a proper cooperative. Whether it was genuine or just intended for the Cuban government to show off prior to the Event (they were bloody close to the capital after all), Greet didn’t care. Either way, the locals -the same bunch of parrots and hippogriffs as seen in Havana, sans the odd species tourists turned into- had seen fit to reclaim and modify the cooperative to suit their own purposes. Given current standards, they’d done a pretty good job of it too.

Chief example would have been the main building. A large, blockish U-shaped building in the middle of the cooperative. It would have looked drab and decrepit in its original state, but Ornithians counted among the local species, and their taste for the flashy had seen that they repainted the whole building with bright murals, gave each set of shutters its own garish color, and hung streamers and decorations all over the place. As the main building, its role was to provide accommodation and amenities, as seen by the small group of hippogriffs sharing lunch in the courtyard.

It still made for a sharp contrast with the largely unmodified structures around it, those actually dedicated to farming: barns, silos and a few hangars and workshops stood around it, made up of drab concrete and rusty sheet metal. The sharp orange hues were a near match for the dirt paths that snaked their way through the complex, dry roads with the air distorted above them, thank the tropical sun for that. A few tractors had been left out in the open next to the hangars, with a bored-looking hippogriff kid (or foal, whichever term one preferred to use) currently washing them.

But more so than just farming, the cooperative was also geared to make something out of the reservoir it was built next to. A small pumping station and sewage treatment plant ensured all water needs were covered and that they didn’t pollute the water, while a small dock pointed to the floating nets, off on the lake’s surface.

The Havanans didn’t need to go out at sea to fish. Tilapias and silver carps, raised on feed that they grew, those were enough to sate their needs. Fish farming.

“That’s… honestly I never thought I’d see a farm like that this side of the Atlantic.” Nastya almost gaped as the griffon joined Greet’s side.

Most of the cooperative was surrounded by a simple wall to which only some barbed wire had been added. A couple SKS-toting guards eyed all accesses vigilantly, some that went to the fields, and the big one through which Greet and Nastya’s convoy had just come through, at the main gates. A wrought iron arch rose above them, its old metal garnished with a dozen or so multicolored ribbons that billowed in the breeze. They didn’t hide the lettering:

Comunidad Rio Hondo.

“You’ve seen stuff like that?”

“Not in such a state no.” Nastya shook her head. “The Soviets tried to promote the concept long before I was born. In Ukraine the only ones you’ll find have been ruins for half a century, unlike that one. It’s… almost pristine. I’m amazed.”

“Communism did keep going past the fall of the USSR around here after all.” Greet noted, observing a burly hippogriff wearing blue coveralls approach them near the head of the convoy. “Havana’s architecture just makes it harder to notice.”

“Touché. And a commune ain’t that bad of a place to live in a world like this. Not like there is an economy anyway.” The griffon said, fluttering her wings in an attempt to fan herself and fend off the blistering heat. “Don’t get me wrong: I still hate communism for what it did… but it’s the right place to start over.”

Greet eyed her friend and companion with interest.

“You slavs still mind the…?”

“Live and let live.” Nastya cut her off, making a sweeping motion with her talons. “Let them do whatever they want. So long that I don’t see us turning commie, this will be fine.”

“Your call.” Greet shrugged as the apparent leader of the plantation -a hippogriff- reached them. “You mind fetching the interpreter?”

“Is not necessary.” The hippogriff in the blue coveralls interrupted before Nastya even had time to turn around, his voice thick with a Cuban accent.

“You speak English?” Greet’s head whipped back towards him, her surprise genuine.

“Not very good.” He waggled his talons in a so-so gesture. “Learn at school. Then stop. Tourists no came here often.” He motioned towards the commune. “You visit? I show you what needed to make farm better.”

“Lead on.” Greet smiled politely.

In all fairness, output was already pretty good at the commune. Soil around the area was dark and loamy, a good base to grow crops on, made even better by the advanced irrigation equipment all fields were fitted with.

But it could be improved upon. Fertile as Cuba was, the commune didn’t have the luxury of high magic in the air, nor the proximity of a convergence point to boost plant growth. They didn’t have growth-enhancing species like centaurs or Earth Ponies to tend to the fields either.

So it was all down to magic-free methods that the local leader – he presented himself as Gustavo- may or may not need assistance with. Yet another pile of tasks they needed to take care of. As if there weren’t enough of them with Havana alone…

Most of what Gustavo wanted was pretty straightforward. Get farm equipment, tractors, machinery from nearby farms and repair it if necessary, collect seeds around the region to diversify their production, gather stray cattle that might have survived being left on its own...

That at least shouldn’t pose much trouble. Time-consuming, sure, but not too troublesome in and of itself.

What was… that wouldn’t get Greet in good favors with the engineering department because it turned out their help was needed. Again. To patch up the pumping station and improve it so that the water supply wasn’t a moment’s notice away from giving out on them – and likewise with the sewage treatment-, to move a set of generators to the plantation to buff up their makeshift wind turbines…

She fully expected to hear complaints when she called over the radio to announce it.

“Gee, he gave you a list or what?” Roberto remarked snidely over the radio, the Italian’s accent making it harder to understand through all the static.

Across from her, Nastya made a face. Greet rolled her eyes. Of course he would complain. What else do you expect, girl?

“Nope… but the visit was pretty telling. All the stuff that needed fetching, I dispatched my teams to, so itshouldn’t take us too long.” She explained, finding herself sitting in the commune’s eating area with a radio set in front of her, as well as multiple sheets of notes. She flipped to the next one. “The generators and pumping should be… doable in relatively short order, though that’s queued up after all the stuff the engineering teams are busy with in town. Give it a week or more. You won’t be happy about the last thing though. Throws a spanner in your ideas with the canneries and distilleries… at least I think it does.”

“How so?” Roberto’s voice took on a careful edge.

Greet looked up as a group of laborers passed in front of her table, each hippogriff or Ornithian laden with crates of freshly harvested vegetables from the greenhouses closest to the commune.

“Manpower shortage… in a fashion.” She began. “The farming is fine, mostly… but the problems arise with the fish they raise in the reservoir. Way I understand it, they’re already a bit short on staff for that section of the commune, and there’s a bit of a problem with making enough feed for the fish. I’m no farmer so I don’t understand shit about crop rotation and the effect farming can have on soil… but they need fertilizer. Fertilizer that ought to be made in town.”

“What is it you’re getting at?”

“In short? More folks needed in the countryside to man the fish farm. We can’t exactly move it to the harbor since it’s freshwater fish and the locals can’t fish for shit. Add to that you need to figure out a way to start some fertilizer production so they can-”

She didn’t get the occasion to finish her sentence before the other end of the line erupted in a long string of expletives in Italian.

“Well, sounds like you’ve got a better idea of what this all implies than I do. Good luck with that buddy. I’m sure Quiros will be thrilled to know he needs to send more of his folks to the countryside.” She eventually managed to snarkduring a momentary lapse in Roberto’s barrage of curses.

Then she switched frequency. Let the cat figure out how to solve that. It was his part of the job after all. Hers right then was to ensure as many tasks were knocked off the board as quickly as possible.

“He OK?” Gustavo inquired behind her.

“It’s fine.” She swiveled in her seat, switching to a cross-legged position. “He ain’t happy, but the way I know him, he’ll see it done. Just...”

“Give him a cigar box?”

“Anything to settle his nerves. I pity him really. Stabilizing this colony is running him ragged.” She told offhandedly before tapping a talon over a map that was laid on the table next to her notes. “Now, mind grabbing a pencil and pointing us where we can find that farming equipment? I want to get it done before nightfall.”

Not that she minded being out in the boonies, but she had a date with that nurse from Rhine Forest, Marta, and she wanted enough time to turn up in her good suit, the one she got made by that seamstress pony.

Hedgefogs in bed? The electric magic could be the right kind of stimulating, and that nurse was a devil at using it.

On the other side of affairs, Rhine’s barge fleet was equally as busy, albeit in a different manner. There were plenty of tourists that needed to get back to the continent, and while the Mexicans were willing to wait before the fleet moved on to its next port of call, and that the Europeans would have to wait for the return trip either way, such was not the case for the Americans and Canadians.

Someone had to get them across the sea to Florida, and that someone turned out to be Artemis. The minotaur wound up leading a convoy of Rhine Forest’s fleet of trawlers as three of the boats lumbered out of the harbor, under the watchful protection of one of the torpedo escorts, assigned to the ‘expedition’ to ensure no monster threatened their safety.

Crewed by Ted’s team actually. If there ever was one person Artemis was willing to rely on for safety, it was her twin brother. Weird as their relationship had gotten ever since she’d been changed, the situation had stabilized between them when they got the occasion to talk it over like adults.

Disregarding the fact her sphinx brother liked to be petted. That was still a bit strange.

As for the passage across to Key West… it was as simple as they got. A straight line on a north-easterly course across the stretch of ocean that separated Cuba from the continent, and nothing to get in the way, not even a sandbank. Both trawlers and torpedo escorts operated with such a short draft that water depth was hardly a concern.

No zeebeasts either, proving that the attack they had experienced off the coast of Georgia was a rarity, not the norm. Thankfully.

If anything, the biggest hurdle they faced was seasickness among the tourists, few of those ponies being acquainted to the roll a trawler experienced in high seas.

“I’m sooo sorry about this Miss, I promise me and my friend will clean this all up.” One of the aforementioned tourists apologized for his companion in his squeaky voice.

The two of them had come up to the trawler’s bridge to apologize for the inconvenience.

And that was where it got… unique, in a fashion. Their passengers were a colorful bunch hailing from all over North America, and surprisingly enough, there was a species in the bunch of deer, reindeer and assorted ponies that she was meeting for the first time.

A breezie. A tiny breed of pony no bigger than a large butterfly and with the wings and antennas to match, a bluish pastel-colored fairy equine whose wings shimmered like dewdrops under the midday sun. He was the one who apologized for his companion. Another cajun as he described themselves, his best friend.

Symbiotic friendship really. The way he explained it, the two were long time friends who popped back into existence together. The breezie (Landry) had even made a habit of ‘nesting’ inside his friend’s mane (Caleb, an Earth Pony with a flashy yellow coat and two-toned orange mane) whenever things got too tense for a small creature like him. Both were headed for Baton Rouge, and what Caleb had for brawn, Landry made up for with wit and being overall tech-savvy.

Plus there was the whole fact almost nobody understood the kind of dialect Caleb was speaking. Except for his breezie friend.

“It’s nothing. Just make sure someone washes… that.” Artemis wrinkled her snout at the stain left on deck visible through the wheelhouse’s windows.

Caleb smiled sheepishly.

“Happens to the best of us.” She waved it off.“I just don’t want you to leave it out like that. Stains the paint job, see? For the seasickness we got some pills in the pantry. Big white box with a red cross. Just grab some ginger root or Dramamine. Your pick. Can’t miss it.”

Caleb nodded his head and made his way down the hatch and deeper inside the vessel. Landry, though, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he had remained in his spot, sitting on his haunches perched on top of the ECDIS monitor.

“Does it ever feel weird?” She raised an eyebrow.

Blame her perspective as a minotaur, but she had a hard time fathoming being so… tiny.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Landry squeaked out. “Everything’s so terrifying and even what I used to consider mundane might as well be called a hell ride without a paddle. You… you look as tall as a skyscraper.”

“I know we minos are tall, but that’s the first time I’ve heard it that way.” She half-laughed before electing to sit down. Even then, she had to practically lean over her console to be level with him. “Better?”

“Slightly.” He smiled weakly. She let out a bovine snort which sent his antennas jiggling. “Thanks. I’ll say, I’m lucky we breezies are more resilient than we let on.”

“Are you, now?”

“Pretty sure I’m squash resistant. I’ll take it. Would be dead three times over if I weren’t.” He shook his head ruefully, his antennas jiggled some more, which Artemis couldn’t help but stare at.

What were those even for? Magic?

“Good to hear I guess? I’m sorry to say the books we had only ever mentioned your species as being...”

“Frail?” He completed. “They’re about right still. I may withstand being walked on, but that doesn’t mean some things won’t try to make a snack out of me. Believe me… I need Caleb, just as much as he needs me.” He sighed, wrapping his wings around his form like a shiny translucent blanket. “Everything’s become such a challenge these days. I can’t even use a friggin’ tablet normally.”

“Caleb… what’s the deal with him?” She asked, her tone a bit cautious.

“It’s complicated.” Landry slowly uttered after a few seconds of pause. “Things have changed. I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s my best friend and we’re like brothers, but… he’s never been all right in the head. Nothing too bad, he’s just always had a hard time figuring things out and learning. The kind that needs help and supervision. At least up until now.”

“The change healed him.” Artemis stated.

“How did you guess?”

“I’ve seen it fix stuff like old wounds and age. Mental illnesses… that doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibilities.”

“You’d be right.” Landry confirmed. “Still… Caleb has just been fixed. He’s still like a kid in the head. Never properly matured or learned how to live by himself. He needs me…” He deplored. “It’s all my fault. I promised his parents I’d take care of him on the trip. Give them a bit of respite, you understand? Now… I’m all he has left. He needs me.”

“Just as you need him.” Artemis pointed out.

“True…” He acknowledged. “I… I realize all I have left that could be considered valuable to anyone is my wits. Caleb needs someone to teach him how to live, but there’s more than that. I… Anybody needs to be of some use if they want some sense of self-worth. My use is my knowledge. Sorry for the sudden change of topic, but I need to know what comes next. Do you have any info on where we’re headed? Like… interesting spots?”

“I do have some info on that.” Artemis bobbed her head in affirmation. “So you know how we’re dropping you off in Key West?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, there’s the thing: the place we’re dropping you at is a Coast Guard Station. There’s a Naval Air Station nearby too if you head east across the Keys, so that should set you up for gear. We’ve included copies of some of our techniques in the supplies we’re giving you, like how to refit a car for use by quadrupeds and ponies.Hopefully it should help. Just remember to check the oil you put in the tank, employ additives and filters to clean it up or you’ll foul your engines. Oil can spoil, and a fuel recycler takes a lot of resources to craft, but we’re not so long after it went to shit that everything is past its due date. Look around long enough, and you should find enough serviceable gas to fill up your tank.”

“Ok… and then?”

“Remember there are more dangers on the continent than just wild dogs and stray zoo animals. The Keys are isolated and should be a safe starting spot, safer if you’re willing to snatch a boat from a marina to cut across the sea to Louisiana, but beyond that, Florida seems to be completely deserted in the south. You want a colony, your first chances are Jacksonville. Maybe. One survivor Amandine dropped off a couple weeks earlier was headed there, a seamstress. Next up along the coast are a navy base near Brunswick if they haven’t left, another one in Savannah along the Interstate, a big truck stop, and then the next colony we’re aware of is all the way north in Canada. Quebec to be precise.”

“Nothing else?”

“Unless you’re willing to head to Montana, nothing we know of. Although… careful if you pass through Georgia. Monsters have been spotted there. Cragadiles in the bayou.”

“Oh I don’t like that name...”

“You shouldn’t.” She frowned. “Think gator on steroids with a knack for polluted areas. And they’re armored. They’ve been spotted mingling with regular gators.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed. It’s more complicated than Havana.”

“Actually, the ‘shit’ was about something else. I just realized… if that magic that’s brought back ancient gods to life is a thing… then it’s probably true for voodoo as well.” Landry rubbed a hoof over his forehead. “Fuuuck, the bayou’s gonna be such a mess if I’m right.”

“Complain all you want...” She smiled. “… but I’m from Greece. You can’t beat a mess like that.”

Landry blinked.

“Uh… yeah, now that you mention it… I can’t help but picture a pervy Zeus licking his lips thinking what ‘bout all the new stuff he can get his dick into.” He chortled. “Was that all about the info?”

“You’ll find more in the supplies we’re giving you. That was the broad picture.” Artemis shrugged, still leaning over the console with her arms crossed under her chin.

There still was a good hour of staying on the same course with the autopilot before they hit the Keys anyway. A lapse in attention wouldn’t sink her. There were other ships in the convoy.

“Thanks then.” Landry nodded. “By the way, last question: were you a dude before?”

Artemis’ eyebrows rose so high they nearly touched her horns.

“How did you guess?”

“The way you’ve been sitting, you’ve been accidentally propping your tits on the console without even realizing. Now I don’t mind looking down at breasts that are the size of a house for a pony like me, but I’m assuming that’s accidental, no? You popped like two buttons on your coveralls.”

“Landry...” She warned.

“No really. They’re fucking huge.” He spread out his forehooves. “Never in my life did I think I could see boobs that big, it’s amazing. They’re like… ten times my size each? Jeez, it’s almost like I could forever disappear if I slipped in the crac-”

His rant was interrupted by a bovine snort so strong it sent him tumbling backwards, the breezie finding Artemis suddenly looming over him with a menacing look. And a hand that was quickly redoing her buttons.

“I suggest you go help your friend find his medicine in the pantry, before I try to figure out how far I can throw a breezie with boosted strength.”

There was a buzz of insectoid wings, and the breezie was gone from the bridge. As was her good mood.

Fucking creep.

“You look happy.”

Lorelei’s eyes left the teacup she kept hovering in front of her muzzle through telekinesis to stare at Dilip, the dog sipping from a similarly steaming cup on the other side of his desk.

“I should be.” The German fillybeamed. “Finally solved my manpower shortage. Took me long enough.”

Dilip’s office had gained some ornaments while they were in Cuba. A varnished liquor cabinet now occupied one side of the room, its tinted windows showing off an impressive display of various alcohols, thimbles and tumblers carefully arrayed around a fancy crystal carafe.

A keepsake for when they left the island, much as the Indian liked to collect.A little detail Lorelei had subtly noticed over time. The teaset he was using? Obtained in Belfast from an abandoned salon. In Copenhagen he had found a set of landscape paintings depicting the city that now hung behind his desk; and Savannah had provided a pair of leather couches that had replaced the old ones on either side of the coffee table in the ‘meeting room’ part of the large office.

Not that she didn’t take trophies herself. Captain Green had offered her a pick of Kings Bay’s museum. That little secret heirloom now resided inside a cabinet in her own office on Rhine Forest.

“For which I apologize. Taking Anton from your crew wasn’t a conscious decision, but you know how mated griffons can be.” Dilip said. “Proof of that being she’s laid eggs. So who is the new hire?”

Lorelei smirked, her baby blue eyes twinkled with pride.

“Are” She corrected. “I managed to recruit three new souls for my engineering department among the tourists.”

“Impressive.” Dilip quipped. “Details? How did that come about?”

“I used the party in my favor.” She explained before her features took on a distasteful expression. “With the ‘fertility’ stuff I didn’t stick around after the ceremony, this body has yet to reach puberty after all. It got too… heated for me past that point.”

An amused smile creased Dilip’s muzzle. That pretty much confirmed what he’d heard on the grapevine.

Idly, the sea dog wondered if she herself was aware of how close she was drawing to her puberty. He was pretty damn certain she’d recently hit a growth spurt, the filly wasn’t as short as when he had first met her off the coast of Germany.

Now that would be amusing to witness. An elderly german put in the body of a tiny pink filly and forced to go through puberty -and pony heat- to blossom into a mare. Oughta be put on tape.

“So what did you do?”

“I had my men go around the party and spread the news we were looking for hires. Subtle, but that got the word out pretty quick because the next day I was already meeting candidates. Two Poles and a German I found for my engineering department. And it gets better...” She beamed. “One is an electrician, and another a welder.”

Dilip’s teacup halted mid-sip, his eyes widened.

“Someone’s been lucky. You throw out your ad and you get two specialists. In one day. You sure you didn’t sacrifice anything to a god of some kind?”

“Lady Luck does seem to favor me more than she did when she picked my transformation.” The small pink filly smiled. “I’ll take what I get. You know the funny thing with these two?”

“Do tell.”

“Okay so here it is...” She shuffled in her seat. “The third guy I hired, he’s a batpony. No big deal, nothing special. My first electrician is one. But the other two? The Poles? Both hedgefogs. So my Chief Officer, he asks and fills in their data. And you know what? They gave the same family name, but one is apparently genderswapped.”

“Siblings then?” Dilip laid back in his seat. “I don’t see what’s weird with that.”

“Not siblings.” Lorelei leaned forward. “Husband and wife. They got together after the Event.”

There was a short pause.

“Times are changing Dilip.”

Author's Notes:

That ought to sort out the food question as far as Cuba's concerned. The idea for the fish farming instead of them having a fishing fleet sprang up when I did my usual research before I started writing the Cuban arc. I even found an article on the stuff.

http://www.fao.org/3/X0332B/X0332B01.htm

Otherwise... the farming cooperative is mostly inspired of those collective farms the USSR built in the interwar period. It's not the reality of farming in Cuba as far as I'm aware since apparently modern Cuba has seen a rise in privately-owned farms and cooperatives, but it's the kind of showroom farm I'd expect to be found close to the capital.

Lastly... one of the things with returnees is that they come back with a clean bill of health. While I'm sure the physical effects are relatively straightforward (and wholesome to write, if someone can be bothered to write about a blind child seeing for the first time), I was thinking... mental illnesses. That ought to fit in 'reappear as a healthy creature' bracket, no?

I'm no expert, and mental illnesses are a vast and nebulous topic, but it's got its openings. PTSD-riddled vets coming back with their mind free? Alzheimer patients suddenly finding themselves with unclouded minds? Children losing their learning defficiencies?

I mean... I hardly let characters whine or angst too much in this story, but a better writer could pull some great shit with that.