“And that kiddies, is why you don’t just ‘assume’ anything about history.”

A young mare lifted a hoof, “Miss?”

“Yes, Pandora?”

“Do you think humans really exist?”

There was a brief chuckle amongst the ponies in the auditorium before the green mare in the black cape and mortarboard hat treated them to her very particular stare, “I think there is compelling evidence to suggest that they did.”

A slim blue unicorn in the auditorium let out a bellowing guffaw which was quickly followed up by those sitting near him shifting away. The tutor’s yellow eyes locked onto him with all the intensity of a search light, “Ah, Mister Frame, wasn’t it?”

The male froze. Noticing he was well and truly the centre of attention he visibly paled, but tried to rally all the same. “Yes, Miss Heartstrings,” he croaked.

“Good.” Lyra smiled her thin smile, “Would you like to explain to the class why you find the possibility of the existence of humans in Equestria so amusing?”

“I-” Frame coughed, quickly snatching up a drink of water one of his classmates leaned over to pass him, rather pointedly at forelegs reach. “The only real ‘study’,” he began with the use of air quotes over the word ‘study’, “was by the widely discredited writer Hidden Path. I know he studied here when he was a colt, but I’d hesitate to call the guy an academic. He was more of a conspiracy theorist than a serious archaeologist.”

Lyra nodded, “He was certainly the proponent of several theories regarding the history of the planet.” The green mare changed the slide on the overhead projector. A large image of Equestria appeared on the screen behind her, “Hidden path believed that- Yes, Miss Pandora?”

The young mare at the front of the class put down her hoof, “Hidden Path believed in the theory of ancient lost civilisations and pre-equine technologies which have left little to no trace in the archaeological or historical record.”

“Very good, Miss Pandora. Mister Frame, your counter argument?” Lyra offered.

Frame shot Pandora a hard look. The challenge had been made. “The lack of evidence doesn’t prove something ‘may’ have existed!” he said, furrowing his brow. “With that logic you could suggest that fish could walk and petunias created the sea and air!”

“Maybe she did,” a voice said behind him.

Frame looked over his shoulder in irritation, “What?”

“Petunia,” the other student replied with a smirk. “She’s taking extra classes after all.”

“Oh, belt up!” Frame snapped.

Lyra held up a hoof for order as laughter at Frame’s furious expression rippled around the auditorium. “Now please, everypony,” she said with a smile, “Mister Frame is correct in his summation.” That shut them up. Lyra grinned to herself. She’d always loved lecturing, and today with the sun out and the sky as blue as one of the finest holiday snaps, she was in her element. “The lack of evidence doesn’t suggest, prove, nor disprove anything. As archaeologists and historians we must always rein ourselves in from the temptation to ‘fill the gap’ with speculation and wishful thinking. However,” she pointed a hoof at the next image on the OHP, “There is evidence that humans, or creatures that we call humans today, may have existed on Equestria before ponies.” A picture of a vaguely ape like creature holding a club appeared to giggles and a lot of jovial shoves, no doubt likening the two legged beings to things far from complimentary. “I will say however that in respect to Hidden Path, that his theories are precisely that: they are theories. Nothing more. There is evidence which we have unearthed of what may prove some day to be that of a lost civilisation, but it may also prove to be nothing more than pony made items constructed farther back in history than we, with our current understanding, know. Take for instance the Crystal Empire. Many believe that to be myth, but there are countless examples of crystalline structures across the continent, as well as in historical accounts that point to the existence of such a civilisation.”

“But if humans did exist, where are they now?” a mare from the back of the auditorium asked. “There would be bones, or something, surely.”

“Maybe there are and we just haven’t found them yet?” another answered. “We haven’t explored the whole planet, so who knows, maybe there are humans living somewhere that we just haven’t discovered yet.”

That set the rest chatting. Lyra was about to answer when the school bell rang. “That’s it it for today, class,” she announced, switching off the projector. “I’ll be here until five if any of you have anything you’d like to cover before our next lesson.”

The scene abruptly faded, the sound clicking off. A hoof moved away from the screen, tapping on a sheaf of papers. “She seems quite at home here.” The stallion watched the figure of the green mare wiping the blackboard happily.

“Yes, it’s a much better environment than the one she was in.”

“You sound doubtful.” The orange coated male turned to face the suited female sitting beside him, “You object to our methods?”

“I am part of those methods, Warlock.” The mare tossed her red and white candy striped mane, “Don’t forget that.”

Warlock’s mouth twitched slightly. There was a menace in Agent Sweetie’s voice which irritated him. She was a good agent, and useful to have around. More importantly he needed loyalty, now more than ever. Still, if she ever proved to be an inconvenience, having her ‘removed’ would be simple enough. And Warlock did so hate ‘inconveniences’. “Do you think she remembers anything?” he asked.

Sweetie’s expression was its usual self – utterly devoid of emotion. “No.” She took a breath and switched off the monitor, “If she had then I would have taken action to rectify the problem.”

Warlock wasn’t sure whether to be surprised, relieved, or horrified at the casual tone of Sweetie’s voice when talking about her friend being a problem that needed rectifying. He was under no illusion as to what ‘rectifying the problem’ meant. “Then I will leave the matter in your hooves,” he said in his businesslike manner. “Miss Heartstrings was nothing more than a fly in the ointment, that was all. There are bigger matters that need our attention.”

“Indeed,” Sweetie agreed.

“And the child?”

“In good health,” Sweetie said quietly. “The surrogate family are delighted to have been allowed to adopt a young unicorn, especially after having tried so hard to start a family without success.” She glanced down at the paperwork, “We vetted then quite thoroughly to ensure there are no… ‘deviations’ from the norm.”

“The financial package would no doubt ensure the foal’s adequate schooling?” Warlock offered.

Sweetie’s expression never changed, “Until the child is old enough to be inducted into our fold, yes.”

“And the family?”

“I- We are the child’s true family,” Sweetie said firmly. “When that day comes then the family will be surplus to requirements. That, however, is in the future. And the future, as we know, can be quite unpredictable.”

Warlock’s mouth thinned, “Quite.”

“Any news from the investigation team?”

The orange stallion nodded, “The master portal has been secured, however the mare known as ‘Galeus’ detonated explosives when she and her ponies passed through, destroying the majority of the equipment there and severely damaging the structure.”

Sweetie nodded, “How many did we lose?”

“Fourteen dead. Twenty two wounded.”

“Replacements?”

“Central recruitment is taking care of that now. We expect to be back up to full strength by the end of the month, less training times.”

“Have we been able to gather anything from the prisoners?”

“Nothing of any importance,” Warlock said simply. “Most are nothing more than farmers or primitives who merely provided services to the citadel residents.”

“What about the beasts?” Sweetie asked.

“The creatures known as zeks have been eliminated,” Warlock replied, leafing through the papers before him. “We tried to capture several for study, but they were impervious to everything we threw at them.”

“Excepts bullets.”

Warlock just nodded, “We managed to capture one of the things known as ‘Chocks.’ Our scientists are examining it now, although I doubt we’ll be able to discover much from it.”

Sweetie let out a quiet huff, “We’ll see.” She shook her head, staring at the photograph of a shape high in the sky, vanishing towards the horizon. “Any information on the human?”

“Not as yet,” Warlock said firmly. He leaned forward to look at the photograph. “We sent two pegasi after it but the shield prevented them from chasing after the craft.”

“No matter.” Sweetie sighed, leaning back in her chair and rolling her shoulders,“Something that large and with a creature so alien to our world on board will be easy enough to track down once our agents in the area pick up the trail.”

Warlock nodded, “I’ll keep you informed.”

“Good.” Sweetie rose and walked towards the door. It had been a long day. Lyra was home, her mind wiped of anything that could be potentially embarrassing, or ‘inconvenient’ to the population should it get out. The ponies on the island were receiving similar treatment and would be resettled with new lives, new identities, and a better future than they would have had on that cursed island. What to do with the place was being decided elsewhere, but it would probably remain as what it was – a place to send things you wanted to be rid of. The ancient ponies were a clever lot, and Galeus was right at the top of that particular little list. But what was that creature really after, and just as importantly - where had she gone? Currently nopony knew, but it was only a matter of time before she resurfaced. Her type always did. Sooner or later. As for humans… They had enough to deal with the ones who had been popping up in Manehattan without more of them polluting the planet with their accursed presence. The flying machine intrigued her though. But that, like so much else, was for another day. She patted her pockets, checking that the cinema tickets were still there. She and Lyra would enjoy a night out tonight, and afterwards… who knows? Her hoof reached for the door…

“Oh, and Warlock?”

The orange stallion looked up, “Yes?”

“About what happened at the archaeological dig site.”

“The area has been cleansed, and-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sweetie said firmly. “You and your agents acted rashly and without my express orders.” She leaned her head down, fixing him with a hard blue eyed stare over her sunglasses. “If you or any of you ponies put Lyra in danger again, I shall deal with the situation… personally. Do I make myself clear?”

Warlock was as still as a statue as their eyes met, “Crystal.”

“Good!” Sweetie abruptly smiled. With a flurry of her overcoat she swept out of the room and shut the door firmly behind her. The cinema was showing ‘The Lost Continent’ tonight. It was just the sort of thing that Lyra enjoyed, and although she hated that sort of fantasy rubbish, her childhood friend deserved an evening of simple relaxation and entertainment after everything she’d endured recently. And who could say, maybe she too would find some pleasure in the story of another people from another time and another world.

After all, the lack of evidence didn’t prove that it didn’t exist, right?

“Miss?” an agent called from the front door. “Your taxi is here.”

Sweetie took off her sunglasses and tapped the magical emblem on her ID pass. In a flash of magic her mane changed from its red and white candy striped appearance to that of its natural pink and blue.

“Enjoy your night off, Ma’am,” the stallion said politely.

As Bon Bon walked towards the taxi she gave him a wink, “Oh, I intend to,” she smiled. “I certainly do!”

The old clock on the wall ticked steadily away just as it always had, marking the inexorable passage of time for as long as anypony could remember. Some believed the archaic thing had been brought from the old castle of the two sisters, but in truth it was far newer. Lyra smiled to herself as she made a note in her diary to use it as a talking point in her next lecture. She wrote the title, ‘First impressions and how they can be deceptive’. It was certainly true in this instance. The clock, far from being some ancient artefact of inestimable value, was in actual fact a replacement for the one that had been accidentally smashed by cleaners when the lecture hall had been renovated some thirty four years ago. Whatever happened to the remains of this old timepiece is now sadly lost to history, together with any study of its true provenance. In any case the faculty decided to have the replacement made to resemble the original in every way. The discreet makers mark, however, was the real giveaway as to the clock's true age. They were still in business to this very day in Shallow Falls. The answer to the question was always there, you just had to know where to look.

“Excuse me? Miss Heartstrings?”

Lyra looked up at the young blue coated mare walking in through the door, “Ah, Miss Mille-feuilles, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Miss,” the newcomer replied a little shyly.

"You're here late," Lyra observed kindly. “What can I do for you?”

The student reached behind her and removed a parcel from her saddle bag which she then placed on the table. “A lady at the front desk left this for you," she explained. "The receptionist asked me to drop it off for you on my way to the locker room.”

“Really?” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, I’ll have a look at it in a minute.” She hadn’t been expecting anything in the post today, especially at work. Huh! It was probably more rubbish from the union or a new diary or something else less than exciting. She smiled her thanks at the girl who left with an odd little smile on her face. Kids! Lyra watched her go, and clucked her tongue irritably. She’d left the bloody door open again!

Getting up and closing the door, Lyra turned to walk back to her desk. It was getting on towards five and this morning Bonnie had told her explicitly not to be late back tonight. Did she have a surprise dinner planned perhaps? Maybe a concert? Lyra shrugged as a smile crossed her lips at the thought of her friend staring at her watch and tapping her hoof as she watched the seconds tick by waiting for Lyra to come home. She’d catch up with her work later, but it wasn’t like it was urgent or anything. What would a few hours hurt? She picked up her panniers, lifted her overcoat onto her back, and looked at the parcel sitting on the edge of her desk. It was wrapped in brown paper and string like ponies use to do with books back when she was a foal. It was certainly old fashioned packaging, but not that unusual. Something about it though…

Lyra floated out a pair of scissors and snipped the string. Slipping off the paper covering her eyes went wide, “Dear goddesses…!” There, sitting there as bold as brass, was a book. Her book. Humans: Fact or Fairytale? She thought she’d lost it! Oh, merciful Celestia! Lyra almost squealed in joy. The question of what had happened to this most precious of tomes was a mystery that had upset her for weeks, and she’d rather guiltily suspected Bonnie had thrown it out when she hadn’t been looking. And yet here it was! There was note inside too, and another smaller book - a small musty smelling book with a faded gold letter ‘G’ in the corner. How odd! She’d look at that later. For now she lifted the note to see which kindly soul had returned her lost treasure. Lyra’s brows knitted in thought as she stared at the strange inscription. It was a small bunch of yellow flowers. Three of them in fact, and the words, ‘With love,’ above the initials, ‘B’ and ‘C’ intertwined.

“Miss Heartstrings?” It was the janitor. “There’s a taxi waiting for you outside. Should I tell them to hang on?”

“No, no...” Lyra felt a strange itch in her horn as her attention drifted from the note to the small black book. “No, I’m coming now, Bristles.” She scooped up the books and stashed them in her panniers. She’d definitely have a look later, along with a nice hot mug of cocoa and a few biscuits. After all, what was an archaeologist without a good mystery to solve?

And Lyra did so love mysteries.

FIN