Everyday Life With Guardsmares
Chapter 124
Previous Chapter Next ChapterArtemis Sparkshower
Specialist Artemis Sparkshower still felt a bit strange inside.
It was the morning after her trip to the Moon. She was on duty in the Royal Engineer's apartment, where her VIP was furiously scribbling away at his drafting table, working on the plans for his 'steel' foundry. It was a nice, sunny day out, with typical warm spring highs expected early in the afternoon, and a refreshing hint of wind. Anonymous even had a window open. Anypony would be feeling great.
But Artemis just felt... empty.
Part of that emptiness, she’d understood. The specialist had always had a big appetite; hardly a surprise with a pegasus' metabolism on a large frame. Mom and dad couldn't tell her the sources, but there was definitely some earth pony blood in her family tree, and it manifested itself with a really big bang every now and then -- herself being one of those 'big bangs'. That she had some mixed lineage wasn't surprising either, given that both of her ancestral branches had long histories serving as weatherponies for Equestria's fertile, earth pony dominated farming regions.
Anyway, the point was, Artemis had a big frame, and she ate big to match. It took a lot of calories to power that much mass in flight -- especially in heavy armor! On active duty in the Royal Guard, Artemis almost always had seconds, and often enough, thirds.
But she didn't feel like eating a single bite at dinner last night.
And she barely made a dent in breakfast this morning, either.
The substantial low-pressure system in her gut was a notable contributor to that feeling of emptiness, but it definitely wasn't the whole story. If anything, it was just a symptom of the bigger issue, and that was a part she really didn't understand at all.
The Balladeer of Ghosts, Ignacio Blazon, Lily's instructor in the batpony’s Shadow-summoning arts, said that Artemis would 'hear the echoes' of her experience for a day or two, perhaps three. She wasn’t sure if that was the right phrase for it. Maybe it would make more sense if she were blind, but she didn't have a better way to put it, either.
And that was partially because she couldn't remember what happened.
Artemis remembered Ignacio summoning the 'Accursed Shadow'.
She remembered when that black mass took form -- HER form. Again!
She even remembered when it SPOKE to her. 'Hello again, Artemisss-Sssparkshower,' it said, in a crackling whisper that warbled from a guttural utterance to a high-pitched shriek. It knew her full name, even though nopony had said it in The Crater!
She remembered when Ignacio asked her if she was ready.
She remembered saying 'yes'. As much as Artemis trusted him, she was really doing it for Lily, her friend and comrade.
She remembered Ignacio humming a dissonant tune.
The shadow-Artemis lunging forwards.
The darkness in its eyes.
The hissing of its breath.
And then...
Nothing, until she was herself again, lying on the floor against the hard rock of the deep chasm. Lily was frantic to find out if she was okay. Artemis just asked if she'd been the one to get the Shadow out.
She had. But it had taken a while.
In the end, the Accursed Shadow had possessed Artemis, and made her an 'abomination,' for a little over an hour. She didn't remember a thing. All she could really think about at the moment was how she was a complete idiot for not having brought her camera to the Moon.
It was the Moon!
THE Moon! Artemis Sparkshower with her Little Ludwig camera could have been the first pony to take photos on the Moon!
She still could be, if Lily went for another lesson and asked her to come along. Just to be on the safe side, Artemis resolved that her brown camera bag was absolutely coming with her every time she went into the Rookery from then on.
‘Maybe I even ought to try to buy a cheap portable cine-camera at one of Canterlot's pawn shops…’
Something to think about later.
That aside, the trip back -- the Halls of the Blind, then the Rookery, then Canterlot Palace -- it had all been uneventful. Artemis didn't feel strange at all at the time -- though the missed hour was obvious from the position of the Sun, even from the lunar surface. But as dinnertime approached, she just didn't get hungry -- and that never happened, except when she was sick. Even her unicorn comrade half-jokingly expressed concern when Artemis failed to push Lily to leave as soon as the chow hall opened up. In the end she took her to the dining hall, but the pegasus just couldn't eat. Nothing was appetizing.
Nothing smelled right.
Artemis barely wanted to put anything on her plate at all, and then when she sat down, she couldn't bring herself to put any of it in her mouth. It was even a little hard to drink water. Something was just wrong.
Glamerspear was sympathetic and concerned. She appreciated what Artemis had done to help her learn -- she understood it more than the pegasus did, ultimately, since Lily got to see Sparkshower as an 'abomination,' whereas she’d completely blanked out for the duration. As a way of paying her back for the dangerous job of being her exorcism test-target, Lily promised to spend the whole morning at the barracks laundry, finishing the adjustments to her Gala dress. That cheered her up a little, though it didn't restore her appetite.
Artemis had felt tired and turned in early, figuring that getting plenty of sleep would be for the best. It was the right decision, but that had turned out to carry its own issues.
She’d managed to have something of an appetite this morning. She could at least hydrate now without wanting to spit it back out. But the dreams she’d had...
Eating.
Eating and drinking, constantly.
Last night was a never-ending imaginary cavalcade of fantastic food and drink. Visions of sitting at banquet tables, gorging herself. Of sneaking down to the kitchen at night and emptying the pantry. Swooping down over an orchard and picking the trees bare. Coasting across a vineyard and inhaling the grapes right down into her belly. Landing in a farmer's field, ripping crops up from the earth, and devouring until nothing was left but dirt.
And the drinking...
There was one point where Artemis stood shoulder-deep in a river against a stunningly beautiful red sunset. She lowered her head and opened her mouth, and just drank and drank until that fluvial artery was completely drained all the way down to its sandy bottom. And she’d just lifted her head up, licked her lips, said 'Aaahh,' and then flown off to find another dreamscape to consume.
The worst was the last one, right before she woke up.
It was a Sunday dinner with a family of griffons in their home. They were like the trading family Artemis knew growing up in Berry, the Tetranovs, yet different in many ways. The location, for example, wasn't right at all. The Tetranovs stayed at the village inn since they would only remain in town for a couple of weeks every few months; they didn't have their own house as these dream griffons did. And the walls were wallpapered with a strange color combination of white and reddish-brown, like iron-rich earth.
The family's grandmother was in the kitchen making the meal -- that at least was how the pegasus remembered it, though the matron stayed in there the whole time while everybody was eating, emerging every few minutes only to bring out a new platter, and that wasn't right either. The table had a grand samovar in the center, again something Artemis had seen before at breakfast or lunch or afternoon tea-time, but never at dinner. It was fuelled and burning, too, except instead of dispensing hot water, it was apparently full of red wine.
In this dream she wasn't the only one eating: everybody was stuffing themselves at the table. Babushka brought out plate after plate, and Artemis and the dream-griffons downed goblet after goblet of what was apparently an endless supply of heated wine. It didn't taste like wine, instead being some kind of metallic brew, and the tonic was surprisingly only lukewarm despite the steamy vapors that emerged whenever somepony used the dispenser.
That was all strange enough.
It was when yet another platter was brought out and passed around, and Artemis had taken a serving for herself and tucked into it on her plate that the moment of horror dawned.
She was eating meat.
And not just any meat.
It was pony meat.
That revelation was enough to bring pause to what had been an otherwise uninterrupted night of relentless consumption. Artemis remembered looking around the table, watching as the griffons just carried on, shovelling the stuff into their beaks. One of them even nodded and poked a fork in her direction, silently inquiring if something was wrong. She remembered breathing heavily and starting to foam at the neck. The griffons all turned towards her, pausing mid-bite with their meat-filled forks raised.
Then one of them spoke, and Artemis was certain it was with the Accursed Shadow's bizarre, shifting voice. "Won't you finish your meal, Artemisss? It was made essspecially for you."
And that's when she woke up, her bedsheets drenched with sweat-foam.
She’d needed a long shower this morning, and she likewise stopped at the linen closet for a fresh set of bed-covers. But right now her mattress was bare and her window wide open to air out the sogginess.
Perhaps unsurprisingly after all that dream-eating, she’d only managed a few bites of salad for breakfast. Artemis couldn't bring herself to take one of the palace dining-hall buffet's otherwise excellent omelettes. Just greens and fruits were all she could contemplate eating for now. That was all she’d had since lunch yesterday, and it was almost eleven o'clock already. She didn't think she’d get her appetite back for lunch today. Maybe she’d be able to stomach something more substantial for dinner.
Hopefully she wouldn't have the same dreams tonight, either. They weren't exactly nightmares -- not until that last one, really -- but she wasn't looking forward to a 'second helping,' so to speak.
‘Thundershowers!’
‘Just relax, Artemis. This afternoon, when you trade shifts, you can have your final dress-fitting with Lily.’
‘Think of the upcoming Gala on Saturday, just four nights away.’
Artemis certainly hoped she’d be done with 'hearing the echoes' by then! There was supposed to be a lot of good food and drink at the Grand Banquet! Not that she could really bring herself to think about any of that right now. Ordinarily, pondering the banquet's spread after having had so little to eat ought to have her salivating so hard she’d need a bib. And probably a mop, too.
The funny thing was, Artemis was actually feeling excited, but not about the Gala; it was the MXP Games that held her attention. Which, to be fair, yes she was also very much looking forward to. It was just that so far today, whenever her mind wandered to anything other than recent experiences or the immediate future, all she could think about was battling in the Grand Mêlée.
Spear against spear, shield against shield, armor against armor. The perspiration dripping from all the exertion, the saliva drooling from panting mouths, and most prominently, the blood flowing from every cut and thrust. Of course the magic totems would keep everypony from dying or being permanently injured, as they always did, but Artemis couldn't help but picture herself stabbing and slashing with abandon, falling opponent after opponent, slaying entire teams, drowning the battlefield with their vital crimson paint.
From what she’d heard, that wasn't even far from the truth. The clean-up job after the Grand Mêlée had a reputation for being nasty work. Canterlot's fire department was usually on hoof with a set of pumper trucks to hose down the Royal Artillery Barracks' proving grounds, sometimes even during the event if things became too gruesome. Yet here she was, standing at attention behind the Royal Engineer's chamber-doors, daydreaming of eagerly contributing to that mess.
Was it just her pegasus pride? Or was this, too, some part of 'hearing the echoes,' like her bizarre dreams?
As Artemis pondered the question, there was a knock at the door behind her. The Royal Engineer popped his head up from his desk, and casually nodded to confirm she was allowed to answer it. Of course, if he really didn't want any interruptions, he'd have asked her to stand outside to ward anypony from even knocking.
Pulling open the door, Artemis found herself looking at an earth pony colt sitting beyond the threshold. He was wearing a matching brown tweed waistcoat and suit jacket, with a white collar and plain burgundy tie. Something about his tangerine-orange coat and short, burnt-umber mane was familiar to her, but Artemis couldn't place him.
Was he one of the delivery ponies who'd previously brought Anonymous tools or hardware for the Whirlwind? Not that she could remember, and despite being dressed relatively plainly, his clothes were in too good of a condition to see hard physical work with any regularity.
Someone from Berry, maybe? One of Huckleberry's friends, few though they were, here to present his apologies? No, that wasn't it.
But there was something fishy about the way he'd held his tweed flat cap, tucked under one foreleg, with the other clutching a scroll.
"Is this the, er -- is this the Royal Engineer's door? Ah, to his chambers?"
Artemis nodded, eyeing up the suspicious colt. "Yes, sir, it is. Can I help you?"
The colt proffered his scroll, and Artemis noted it bore the Royal Seal. "Her Majesty has given me orders to report to His, er, Lordship. This letter explains everything."
‘Report to the Royal Engineer?’
Her hackles rose as she took the scroll. "One moment, please."
Shutting the door, Artemis fluttered over to her VIP, who sat up from his drafting-work.
"Sir, there's a colt at the door who says he's been ordered to report to you. This is his letter of introduction."
"Report to me? Hmm... Princess Celestia did say that she'd send me an 'assistant' for the foundry soon. A bit too soon, maybe, since I'm still working on the design and we haven't found a location. Well, I'm sure we can find some use for him in the meantime."
Taking the scroll, Artemis’ VIP quickly broke the seal and unrolled it. "Let's see here... Yes, it's just that, an assistant for the foundry. Oh..."
Anonymous furrowed his brow and continued to read. "...She must be joking. No, really?"
Sucking in his lips, he shook his head. "...I suppose I should have seen this coming. Well, if Her Majesty commands it, who am I to deny Her?"
‘It sounds like bad news!’
Now Artemis’ hackles were really up.
Getting to his feet, the Royal Engineer buttoned his waistcoat and adjusted his tie, adopted an imposing stance, then waved an open hand at the doors.
"Specialist Sparkshower, please let Mister Songwell in."
‘Songwell!’
‘Phillip Songwell!’
‘The foremost teamster of Bitsmount Silver Mine!’
‘That's where I remember this colt!’
He's the one who took the blame for the mine's horrific safety record, claiming that he'd felt pressure to perform by the mine's noblepony owner, Lord Galloway Bitsmount, and had undertaken cuts to timber expenses on his own initiative. Cuts which had led to an unsafe mine, with collapses and injuries at a rate far and away higher than any other mine in Equestria. It was almost three weeks ago that Artemis’ VIP initiated an investigation and brought charges against Lord Bitsmount, though with all that had happened since then it might as well have been three years ago. And now Princess Celestia had sent the confessed delinquent to serve the Royal Engineer as an assistant!
Never mind her hackles raising; now Artemis’ blood was boiling.
Sure, nopony had died, but how many miners had been injured in cave-ins? How many had been traumatized by the experience of being trapped underground for hours or days? How many pony-hours of pegasi medevac teams and unicorn disaster-relief construction battalions had been spent servicing all those emergencies?
And the colt responsible for all that was just outside in the hallway! Walking free, instead of rotting in a cell!
Well, from the attitude of the Royal Engineer, Artemis had no doubt he was about to be stomped down in his place! And she was going to lend all four of her hooves to that worthy endeavor! Whipping the Bradamante Lance off her back, the pegasus tramped loudly over to the door, twisted the handle, then yanked it sharply open, holding the lance upright in her other foreleg.
Wearing an experienced servant's disdainful scowl, she addressed the feeble figure before her. "The Royal Engineer will see you now, Mister Songwell."
"Oh, yes... Thank you kindly."
Artemis’ head swiveled to keep him fixed in her gaze as the miscreant replaced his hat and walked past her to enter the Royal Engineer's hallowed chambers of Knowledge and Progress.
‘This scum doesn't deserve to set hoof in here!’
"Ah, Mister Phillip Songwell, foremost teamster of Bitsmount Mine. What a surprise to see you again so soon."
As her VIP prepared to lay into him, Artemis quickly shut the door and firmly planted herself in front of it.
The brown-clad earth pony colt doffed his cap once more, then bowed his head. "My Lord Engineer... I take it your Lordship has, ah, read the letter?"
Anonymous waved the re-rolled scroll. "I have indeed. It seems that Her Majesty expects me to make something of you, Mister Songwell. While availing myself of your services as a forepony, I am to reform your bad habits and instill a proper sense of safety. Sadly, this means interrupting your musical apology tour with Lord Bitsmount. Tell me, what do you think of this arrangement?"
Songwell fidgeted nervously with his hat, turning it around and around in his forehooves. "Er, well, I, uh, that is to say..."
The Royal Engineer approached the earth pony, towering imposingly over him. "It's better than languishing in a prison cell, isn't it, Mister Songwell?"
The colt gulped. "Yes, my Lord."
Instantly, Anonymous thrust forward an accusing finger. "That is still a very real possibility! If it had been up to me, you and your 'honest' master, Lord Galloway Bitsmount, would both be in the oubliette. The two of you managed to convince both of Their Majesties that you were unaware of the disastrous increase in cave-ins resulting from a supposedly well-meant attempt to increase productivity. And, I suppose I believe it, too. But that kind of excuse won't fly in this operation, Mister Songwell! From this moment on, you are under my command, and it's jail for you if I see similar neglect in this position."
‘Yeah, turn up the heat!’
‘Time to show this criminal degenerate where he belongs!’
Stepping forward and extending her wings for stability, Artemis tucked the Bradamante Lance under her foreleg and lifted one hind leg to extend it its full length with a satisfying scrrr-CLACK. The business end of her rocket-powered, Theolonicus lance was now pointing directly at Phillip Songwell, and just a few short hooves away from the target.
The merest push of her hind hoof on the stirrup was all it would take to run him through.
Meanwhile, the Royal Engineer continued to harangue the subject. "How much has Her Majesty informed you about my undertaking?"
After a sideways glance at the pointed tip of her weapon, Songwell cleared his throat. "I understand that your Lordship is building a foundry."
Anonymous lifted his eyebrows, nodding. "That's right, a foundry. That means huge, heavy equipment and intense heat. Multi-ton iron crucibles moving on rails and chains that can seriously injure somepony in a collision, slice off a limb caught in their wheels, or completely flatten anypony underneath if they should fall. Noxious fumes from the burners and slag burn-off which can poison workers if they are not properly routed to the chimneys. Vats of molten metal so hot that even tiny spills or sprays can melt flesh right off the bone. And woe betide the poor soul who falls in and is vaporized before their coworkers in the blink of an eye."
Waving the scroll aggressively, he continued. "An iron foundry is orders of magnitude more dangerous than a mine, Mister Songwell. If an accident happens, there won't be time to call the rescue teams -- there will be casualties and deaths, immediately and in staggering numbers. Only a gunpowder plant could be more fraught with peril. I won't tolerate anything less than maximum safety."
Standing up straight again, he planted his hands on his hips. "And let me be absolutely clear: that means I expect your proactive cooperation. While I will of course make plans and give instructions which I think will maximize safety, I nonetheless fully expect you, Mister Songwell, as the foremost teamster overseeing the workers, to immediately halt operations and make a report if there are any near-misses or even if you or any other worker foresees any potential hazard whatsoever."
Anonymous shook his head slowly. "If you can't do that, then you're of absolutely no use to me and I shall send you right back from whence you came. Celestia knows this is a dangerous undertaking, but the people of Equestria won't tolerate the kind of casualty rates which historically were common in early models of these facilities on my world. And I won't tolerate such rates either, because I know how to do better. I am an industrial engineer by trade and training, Mister Songwell. Designing safe manufactories is my profession. To operate properly, I therefore need my forepony to be a partner in safety, not a boot-licking minion who will cover up mistakes and flaws to flatter my ego and pad their statistics, or just as bad, be ignorant of them."
Finally, leaning back, he folded his arms. "Well? What do you say to all that, Mister Songwell?"
The colt took a long time to answer.
‘Too long, reprobate!’
Artemis gave a pair of light taps to the Lance's activation stirrup.
CLICK-FWWwwwsh
CLIKA-FWWwwwsh
Her torso was jerked forward on her hooves by the attempted ignition, though she remained planted on the ground. From the recharge-whine, the Bradamante Lance almost sounded disappointed that she didn't follow through completely. But she achieved her objective: Songwell was so startled that he almost jumped into the air. When he landed, he was trembling on his hooves.
Artemis grinned.
‘That's right, criminal scum!’
‘This pegasus is not afraid to spill a little blood on Her Majesty's carpets!’
As she mentally pictured spearing the colt right through the chest, dyeing his brown tweed suit a deep red, she heard Anonymous addressing her. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Specialist Sparkshower, there's no cause here to point a weapon at an unarmed and unthreatening civilian. Kindly retire to the door."
‘WHAT?!’
‘What…’
‘I…’
Artemis was pointing her magical lance at a shivering, middle-aged, middle-class commoner colt who wasn’t wearing armor, or carrying a spear, or even wearing metal horseshoes.
It took a second for her to process what she’d done.
And another second to overcome her own shock.
She collapsed the Bradamante Lance, lowered her hind hoof, and retreated to the door, holstering the weapon on her back.
‘I just threatened the unjustified execution of an unarmed Equestrian citizen!’
Once she was safely out of harpoon distance, Songwell answered Anonymous' question. "My Lord, I understand your, ah, concerns. I know that I've made some mistakes in the past, terrible mistakes indeed. I've been made to see the error of my ways. And may I say that I was actually a safety inspector for the mine before I was promoted to forepony, and I daresay I had a sterling reputation from my peers in that profession. Clearly I, er, lost something in the change of jobs, but I'm certain I can gain it back again, my Lord."
As the conversation continued, it dawned on Artemis what Ignacio Blazon meant by 'hearing the echoes.' Didn't he say that Accursed Shadows wanted only to kill and to create more abominations? It was those thoughts that she was 'hearing' -- the 'echoes' of what that monstrous, extradimensional fiend desired when it was in control of her body.
Now the daydreaming of a bloody and violent Grand Mêlée made a lot more sense. The night-dreaming of eating and drinking were still a bit confusing to her, though this revelation certainly put the cannibalistic meal in perspective. Still shocked by her behaviour, she could only watch, a silent observer, as the Royal Engineer and Phillip Songwell continued their conversation.
"All right, Mister Songwell. I'll take you at your word, but you're on notice that I'm watching you closely. One misstep and you're out. That said, I also have a role to play in instructing you, and I will fulfil it. If you have any questions or doubts, speak to me immediately."
Anonymous waved Songwell forward and stepped over to his drafting board. "Of course, we don't have a foundry quite yet. I'm in the process of designing the equipment we'll need, but a crucial next step is finding a location. The Chancellor of the Exchequer has suggested I try to find an unused building in Canterlot to refit for my purposes. Have you taken up lodgings in the city?"
The earth pony seemed considerably more relaxed now that the haranguing, interrogation, and threats of violence were ended. "Her Majesty has generously given me a room in the palace, in the servant's quarters upstairs, My Lord."
The Royal Engineer's expression softened. "You have a family back in Bitsmount?"
Songwell nodded, looking a little sad. "Yes, m'Lord. A wife and three children."
"Her Majesty's letter didn't state the duration of your service here in Canterlot. Were you informed?"
The colt shook his head. "No, m'Lord. But I was hoping that if it goes on that perhaps my family could find residence together here, though it'll be a large upheaval."
Artemis’ VIP nodded sympathetically. "That may be possible. We also need to think about acquiring a residence as near as possible to the foundry. There are some... special employees I'm bringing in who would be well-served by being able to live close by, if even only for a few days a week. Her Majesty requires that these particular employees be under guard as well, so I guess we'll need space for those soldiers, too. I'm not sure how many there'll be in total, but as soldiers I'm sure they'll tolerate less luxurious living standards than normal."
"Yes, m'Lord."
Anonymous pointed at several features on his drawing, but it was out of Artemis' sight at this angle. "While I work on finishing these designs, I want you to go out into the city and survey vacant buildings available for purchase or rent. I need something like an empty warehouse or mill, preferably in good condition with ample natural lighting and plenty of ventilation. Brick chimneys would be welcome, as would a particularly fire-proof or reinforced structure, and if it's adjacent one of the canals so that we can drive a water-wheel for power that would be advantageous as well."
He leaned back and gestured aimlessly with a hand. "I've never been down to the more industrial tiers of the city, so I honestly have no idea what you'll find. Purse Strings seemed optimistic that something could be found, though, so take good notes and consult with real estate agents if you need to. We'll meet each morning after breakfast to go over your previous day's work. I've got some stationery here if you need it, and I suppose you should have a stipend or a letter of credit as well for expenses."
Songwell smiled meekly. "Thank you, m'Lord. I'll take some stationery, but Lord Strings has already seen to money, as I was sent to His Lordship first."
That got a raised eyebrow out of her VIP, and Songwell continued. "His Lordship explained the Department of the Exchequer will handle the financial details of this project. His Lordship also asked me to say that you should be receiving letters from him soon."
Anonymous sighed, nodding. "I see your probation has all been taken care of. Well, in that case, Mister Songwell, despite my personal misgivings about this arrangement I should welcome you to the team and to what I suppose should be called the Royal Engineering Department." He extended a hand, and Songwell took it in a hoofshake. "If you perform to my exacting expectations, then I believe, in spite of your previous misdeeds, there is no reason why you should not ultimately have a bright future ahead of you."
The earth pony sighed in return. "Thank you, m'Lord. Lord Bitsmount has offered to keep me on at the mine, but to be quite honest, after I admitted to the charges, I fear my family is no longer welcome in the town. The other workers' families are shunning us."
"I understand. The faster we find suitable buildings, the faster we can begin work and move your kin into a new life here. While the consequences for further failures are dire, if you do learn well, reform your behavior, and perform to my satisfaction, I would be happy to keep you on or to recommend you to another position as you prefer."
Songwell bowed. "Thank you, m'Lord. With your permission, I'll get started."
The Royal Engineer stepped over to his desk and pulled assorted papers out of a drawer. "Right. Here's my letterhead and a set of my calling cards. Take any pencils or pens you need. Since you've already seen Purse Strings, I'm sure he's given you the details of your spending account and stressed the importance of keeping your receipts. All I ask on top of that is that you use your senses and your head. Those are the most important attributes in building and running such a facility. Canterlot is not a small city and there's a lot of ground to cover. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
The Earth Pony colt grabbed the writing material and bowed repeatedly as he backed up towards the door. "Yes, m'Lord. Thank you, m'Lord. I won't disappoint you, m'Lord."
Anonymous nodded in Artemis’ direction, and she pulled open the door to let Phillip Songwell out. She was still so stunned by her own actions that she could barely process what just happened.
The Royal Engineer sighed and rubbed his chin. "Well, that was a surprise. I hope I put the fear of Celestia into him. Once we find a site then I'll have to drill in proper problem-reporting procedures, I suppose."
Artemis nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir. And my apologies for the earlier outburst."
Her VIP waved off her attempted murder as if it were nothing. "Oh, it's all right. I rather liked placing him in the hot seat. It just went a bit too far at the end, that's all. Shame we won't have Lord Bitsmount to run the same routine with. I've no evidence otherwise, but I still can't shake the feeling that he was the one behind it all, and not Songwell. Corruption usually starts from the top, after all. Ah, well. Back to work, and hopefully no more interruptions until lunch-time!"
She actually was starting to feel a bit peckish. That had to be a good sign. Her stomach emitted a plaintive rumble.
But no sooner had Anonymous sat back down at his drafting table than there was another knock at the door. This time he didn’t even look up and just waived aimlessly for her to get it.
"I guess he's forgotten something. Some more stationary, maybe."
Artemis pulled open the door, but it was not Songwell -- it was one of the palace's messengers, holding a silver platter with a card on it.
‘Somepony else wants to speak with my VIP, apparently.’
She exchanged nods with the messenger as she took the card, prompting them to speak up. "I'm to wait for a response, if it pleases the Royal Engineer."
Nodding again, Artemis shut the door and began flapping her way over to the drafting desk. "Sir, there's a calling card for you here."
Another infamous name from three weeks ago.
"...Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather would like to see you this afternoon."
Anonymous took the card and looked it over. "What the devil does he want? We already gave him back his helmet scraps."
It was true that he had no cause to visit them about the Pas de Sabots, but Artemis could think of one thing that the lieutenant would be interested in.
"Sir, perhaps it's about our participation in the MXP Games?"
The Royal Engineer looked up and slowly nodded his head. "Yes, that's got to be it. Tell the messenger I'll receive the Lieutenant at two o'clock. I want the whole quaternion here for the meeting, including you -- and tell everyone to dress for battle."
"Yes, sir!"
Suggested interlude music: Timothy Michael Wynn - 'Lying in Wait', from 'Command & Conquer: Red Alert 3' [2008]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KV6Ul75C5Uk
