May 26, 1:00 AM

The captain’s quarters upstairs has room for guests. 92%

“I should tell you, I’ve never actually been in here before,” Wayfinder began. She slowed as they crossed the hall, moving at a relaxed pace towards the large door at the end of the hall. “They only assigned this to me after I took the captain position, which was… yesterday. If it’s a mess, that’s not on me.”

The stallion no longer carried books and papers; Sunburst had Hazel across his back, her head lolling as she snored. She didn’t weigh much, and the unicorn had no trouble with her. Honestly, Wayfinder strained more under the saddlebags of notes she’d carried for him in exchange.

Not that she was complaining. If anything, it made for the perfect excuse to bring him back with her.

“I believe we have greater concerns on our minds than the sleeping arrangements,” Sunburst said, with a noncommittal shrug. “I’m quite certain of it now: we have a narrow window to avert disaster. It’s a good thing you called me here. Though I’m… I don’t mean to imply—” He flushed, ears folding back and away from her abruptly. “I’m sure you would be able to find your own way to—”

Wayfinder laughed, stopping before the locked door. “Deep breath. We both know I would stand no chance without you. I will take pride when I have the skills to do something, and—frankly admit when I don’t, like now. I didn’t get this spot because I know everything, I’m here because I’m willing to admit that I don’t and rely on others. In a way, you put me here; it was your book.”

She levitated the keys towards the door, just a little higher than was comfortable to reach, and twisted. The doors swung open, revealing her view into her new quarters. Motion-activated lights came on, illuminating a spacious entryway with a wood floor and a fancy piece of furniture she couldn’t quite name. Halltree, maybe? A few banker-boxes of belongings had been piled just inside; clearly the officers who had helped with the move were prepared to do exactly the minimum required.

A large glass window along the ceiling gave a commanding view of the stars, albeit washed out from the overhead lights. Just a little further, and they reached doors on opposite sides of the hall, both opening into suites. The larger of the two was to the left, the fine wooden floor dented and scratched from many hooves and claws and other things scraping that way.

“Are you certain a princess doesn’t live here?” Sunburst asked, his voice still that low half-whisper. But not quite the real thing. If she wasn’t going to, Wayfinder couldn’t exactly blame him for not whispering himself. “It’s nice enough for one.”

The lights came on around them as they entered, soft amber and diffuse—the kind for having important meetings, casting a diffuse glow rather than something harsh and white. Past a comfortable sitting room flanked by shelves of wine and simple snacks were doors leading to nearly everything she could imagine someone needing in a position like this.

Including a second bedroom. Without her needing to say anything, Sunburst levitated the door open, made his way in.

She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing at first, while she carefully lifted his books off her back and onto the conference table. When she turned, she had a clear view of the stallion and the bedroom beyond.

He’d managed to deposit Hazel into the huge bed without waking her up, somehow nestling her up against the pillow and covering her with the blankets. She watched the effort silently, eyes huge. Hazel was nobody to him; a total stranger’s sister who happened to fall asleep in the room he’d been using to plan the future of the colony. Yet he didn’t seem the least bit disgusted by her. Few people who actually knew her could entirely keep the disgust from their face.

He switched off the lights, then clicked the door shut with his magic, barely making a sound. “There. Small meal though it is, I can see the instincts to treat bugs with caution are intact even without the cultural baggage. But I don’t believe she needs to be awake to benefit.”

Wayfinder’s mouth remained open. For several seconds she just stared in simple shock. “I did have to fight that instinct when we first met her,” she admitted. “But it didn’t take long to realize she’d done nothing wrong. I wouldn’t let a disgust I couldn’t even explain decide how I treated her.” She tilted her head sideways, eyes getting wider. “You know more about changelings?”

“More than most ponies in Equestria,” he glanced past her, up and down the sitting room. He was eyeing the doors. Searching for another spare bedroom for himself? Or maybe from the way he looked and smelled, a bathroom first. No doubt the water heater in here still worked, probably an electrical model that wouldn’t be subjected to the natural gas rationing.

“You could even say I had a role in their elevation to true changelings, though nearly all that credit goes to Thorax. I was just a voice of kindness when there were perhaps fewer than there ought to be.”

Wayfinder remained near him, close enough that she could smell the heat of his breath against her coat. Their eyes were nearly level, with Sunburst having less than an inch on her. One advantage to her unusually lean and lengthy build. “Can you tell me about it? I want to help Hazel. If there’s some kind of… elevation she could reach, something that would make other people less likely to fear or mistreat her without even giving her a chance…”

“A fascinating subject. The growth of Erovores from obligate parasites into treasured members of the Equestrian community. It did not even occur to me originally that coming to your world would involve offering my services in that regard. Well—information. Ultimately, the growth has to be their decision. It can’t be forced by somepony else. We can help, though. From what I can see, you’re already doing that.”

“As best I can,” she said. “Sorry, I…” Her next words were swallowed in a yawn of her own, at nearly the same moment. “Tomorrow, maybe. We both need rest. I hope we’ll get started actually implementing some of what you’ve figured out. Whatever it takes to get a foundation under us.”

“Whatever it takes,” he agreed. He remained there for another few seconds, barely inches away. He seemed to be searching her face for something; his eyes were still alert. He wasn’t asleep on his hooves.

The seconds passed. An air conditioner somewhere high above kicked on, filling the vents with diffuse cool air. The sudden wind pushed at his unruly mane.

That was evidently enough to finally distract Sunburst. He moved slightly away from her, his ears folding backward. “Sorry, Wayfinder. I think I must’ve… I must be—”

If Wayfinder hadn’t been Elliot once, she might not realize what was happening. But she’d spent enough time on the dating market to have a fairly good idea what Sunburst must be thinking in that position. Maybe that, and she was trusting her nose a little more than she used to. This was a stallion who wanted to be there, despite the exhaustion of their day working for the city.

She could let him think that she wasn’t interested, or…

Saying something was for a time when she had more energy herself. She was too exhausted to second-guess; she closed the distance, leaned forward, and kissed him.

She wasn’t exactly sure what she expected from the kiss. In her old life, Elliot had been with a handful of girls, none more serious than Ruby. Her interactions with Peter hadn’t continued long enough to get a good idea of what a relationship with him might look like.

But nothing in Elliot’s life had prepared her for this. Sunburst’s muzzle was warm against hers. He tasted like coffee and something else, something sweet and herbal she couldn’t name. For one terrible second he went rigid, every muscle locking up as though she’d cast a paralysis spell on him. Then he leaned into her. One hoof shifted forward, not quite touching her but bracing on the floor beside hers, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his leg.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Wayfinder realized she’d closed her eyes without deciding to.

It lasted only a few seconds before she pulled back, just far enough to breathe. She opened her eyes and found his already open. His mane was even more disheveled than usual, one tuft sticking sideways where her cheek had brushed it.

“I—” Sunburst started, and stopped. Then, very slowly, he lifted one hoof and touched it to the side of her jaw. The frog of his hoof was warm and slightly rough when it settled against her cheek. “You should know,” he began, “I have been trying very hard not to do that since the first time you visited Starhall.”

“Sorry,” she grinned weakly at him, without avoiding his eyes this time. Her tail flicked to either side, sharp enough that it brushed against him, then flicked back the other direction. “We could forget it happened if you like.” She lowered her head a little. “I… I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. I have no idea if what I just did is even allowed in your culture. If I shouldn’t have…”

He reached towards her with one hoof, then brushed against her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m not the expert authority on this one, Wayfinder. At least with magic I have a lifetime of personal study and experience to draw on for what I write in my books or teach to the ponies of earth. I have a long, proud history of not recognizing the feelings of important ponies in my life, especially if those ponies happened to be exceptionally attractive, magically gifted mares. Is this… the real reason you called me?”

“No!” Wayfinder retreated from him abruptly, fast enough that his hoof slid off her shoulder and fell limply between them. “You saw our records, Sunburst. There’s nothing fake or convenient about how desperate we are. I hadn’t expected anything other than your expertise to get out of this mess, if I was extremely lucky. You don’t have to… if you think I…”

He laughed, gentle and energetic. “Deep breath there, princess. I guess I’m not the only pony who’s had trouble with some of their relationships over the years. I wasn’t saying… how about we get some rest? You can tell me in the morning whether this was a dream. Then together, we can find a way to save your city.”

The rest of that night passed in an exhausted blur to Wayfinder. She was dimly conscious of the fact that her companion hadn’t crossed over to the quarters meant for visiting dignitaries, but occupied the other side of the enormous bed. Maybe that was something in the difference in social expectations between her kind and ponies, or maybe it had something to do with what had passed between them in the moments before bed.

The night was nowhere more intimate than sharing the space with Peter had ever been; close physical contact, apparently the norm for this new species, without ever escalating beyond that point. They’d decided to wait, and both were so utterly exhausted as to be content with the sweet release of rest.

But the morning came, the beeping alarm and the voices of officers below and people outside. Life in the isolation zone continued. Wayfinder’s life waited for her down there. Someone stirred in the bed, and she realized just how close they were: Sunburst had his hooves draped over her, radiating warmth under the blankets. Blankets that would probably need to be washed, given the smell.

For a few seconds she didn’t move, pretending she was still asleep. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the world hadn’t ended. She could still be living with Ruby, still supporting her every single day, listening to the amazing things she was learning.

Even if she wasn’t smart enough to survive a college career of her own, she could be there for Ruby, and enable someone who was better at all this than she was.

Maybe I was just in the wrong subject.

The feeling wasn’t quite the same. She’d never been the one to have someone wrapped around her back then. Sunburst wasn’t much taller than she was, but still plenty large enough to make her feel completely safe. Lying there did not change the reality outside. The city was still doomed if they didn’t find a way to save it. But for just a little while, it didn’t matter.

Sunburst shifted, his breathing changing abruptly. It accelerated right along with his heartbeat, which she could feel on account of their close contact. “Oh. Good morning, Wayfinder. I guess we decided against the sofa.”

“Yeah.” She made no effort to move, closing her eyes again and sinking into the comfort of their shared contact. Any second it would end, and she would have to face the grim realities outside.

“You don’t seem—”

“Bothered? Why would I be?” she asked, remaining exactly where she was. “You’re probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. You treated Hazel with a kindness I’ve rarely seen. You care enough about people who aren’t even connected to you that you risked your life to come here and help us. Why am I supposed to be bothered by sleeping with you?”

“Oh.” He shifted in bed, eyes closed. For another few seconds he remained there, his breathing slowing. Then he pulled away from her and flopped to his hooves beside the bed. “Well then. Perhaps we should… return to this conversation in the near future. I’ll make us some breakfast, if you’d like to use the facilities first. Then we can discuss what matters.”

The morning progressed quickly. Wayfinder found what she expected in the bathroom: more luxury—for this strange time they’d found themselves in. An enormous tub, a shower that was large enough for several with a half-dozen rain heads, and real hot water that seemed to go on forever.

She didn’t find out how long it would last, because she got out as quickly as she could, smelling like several of the expensive-looking soaps waiting in bottles on the shelves. It didn’t seem like the last captain had much use for any of them—a problem she would correct.

Wayfinder returned to the kitchen about ten minutes later, only to find two plates already waiting. Hazel was up, sketching with colored pastels on a large notebook. She kept her distance from the food, showing no interest in it. But Sunburst seemed to realize that, because he hadn’t made her a plate.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to give you the high level,” he said. Rather than sitting down across from her, both plates were next to each other. She sat down on the cushion without so much as a question. “In a few words, we have to completely reorganize the social contract, shift the way the ponies living here are living. Closer to the way they did before. Then we keep going, past that towards Equestria. It isn’t enough to keep living another day, doing little, waiting for a rescue that will certainly never come. If we can do that, there’s more than enough magic here to save their lives and many others. If not—supplies will run out, and many will die.”

She nodded along with him while she ate. It wasn’t a terribly complex meal; an omelet of instant eggs and a bowl of oatmeal, along with a few simple pieces of fruit. She’d have called it mid for any continental breakfast at a motel before the end of the world. Now, it was incredible. “Objectively, yes,” she said. “But what you’re really saying is that people need to start working again, right? I can’t order them to do it. Even if I had the legal authority, I’d never be able to enforce the law long enough to enact it. There aren’t enough police as it is, and their work is already completely tied up in just keeping the Isolation Zone from coming apart.”

Sunburst chewed in silence for a time. He seemed like he might be about to argue with her, only to shut up again, staring at nothing. Until he eventually straightened. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen a society have to do this once before. The circumstances were a little different—everypony wasn’t transforming into other creatures. But they’d lost all their memories, and had to recover them with great effort and personal suffering.

“It can be done. Not by trying to compel them—Equestria would never do that either. We will do it with positive incentives. Ponies need physical safety, friendship, comfort, and opportunities for service. The real difficulty is finding a way to make everypony feel useful. With the Earth Ponies it will be easy—we’ll need every set of willing hooves helping to grow things. They will see the measurable impact of their actions. Unicorns can craft, repair, and build. Eventually they will grow skilled enough to produce the enchantments that may help substitute for the artifice of your technology, for a time. But far fewer Pegasi are needed to control the weather, or act as messengers. How to make it feel as though you have something compelling to offer without leaving them out? The problem only grows for the other, rarer creatures. Yet it must be solved for this to work.

“I’ve created a framework to reproduce the way the Crystal Empire functions. It’s the—government I helped run. It makes for a good example because it also had to be self-sufficient for long periods. Its environment was even more hostile than yours, and its population had a far weaker diversity of skills. If they can survive, so can you. But you will need to decide what you’re offering ponies to get your first set of recruits. Once the population can see the rewards are real, you’ll have the reverse problem of not knowing what to do with them all. Think about it while I’m in the shower.”

He rose, levitating their empty plates into the kitchen. Then he was off down the hall. The door shut behind him, followed by a muttered gasp, and words she probably wasn’t supposed to hear. But pony ears were sharp. “We could’ve made breakfast together.”

By the time he returned, no longer smelling like long hours and not enough soap, Wayfinder had her mind made up. More than that, she’d already picked the phone numbers to call, and drafted a few messages. She knew what she would do.

1. Use the police. Offer release to anyone imprisoned who cooperates, incentives to people who want to expedite their paperwork, etc.
2. Restructure housing and offer better accommodations to anyone who joins. This new space will be secured by expanding beyond the federal limits of the Isolation Zone.
3. You don’t think people need something to force them to help—they’ll want to. The people of Denver have been forced into inactivity for months; what you’re offering them is a chance to aid their own survival. That’s enough.