After parting ways with Sunny, Cosworth had been on the town for much of the afternoon, cramming as much information into his brain as he could manage: streets, the names of them, landmarks, manhole covers, guards, neighbors—everything. He immediately drew up several contingency escape routes for if he ever failed his mission; if he ran out of energy before he could find a proper source to replenish it, his disguise would falter and he would have to slink off, back to the changeling kingdom and beg for a second chance. Which was hardly an appealing prospect, as he was fond of life. Eventually, after introducing himself to the closest neighbors and managing to convince the local post to run an ad for his machinery repair services, he made it to the slightly industrial sector of Hoofington. There, he took it upon himself to fix the inner workings of a water wheel that had just recently broken down, and the owner, Steady Flow, was beyond thrilled.
“Uh, this is very generous, Mr. Flow,” Cosworth said as he eyed the bag of bits that floated in the green glow of his magical grasp. Without counting and judging by weight alone, he could tell that he was paid far above the asking price for what he had done. According to his training, at least. The middle-aged, blue and gray stallion that guided him out the door only laughed at the suggestion of overpay.
“Son,” he drawled, “I’m downright horrified, the master assembly is on the ground in pieces, and somewhere in the background, a bank has just caught fire. In you walk and say, ‘I can fix that in a jiffy!’” Steady lightly pressed one of his blue hooves into Cosworth’s shoulder as he spoke. “And then you do some crazy unicorn nonsense and fabricate a whole replacement out of scrap without batting an eye. I don’t think you quite understand the value of that if you think that’s too much money to be paying you.” Cosworth looked at the old stallion beside him and furrowed his brow.
“Really?”
“Really! It’s a bit stupid, but there’s nopony in town that can service those things,” Steady Flow said as he gestured back at the wheelhouse the two had just stepped out of. “I would’ve had to call a mechanic from a big city like Canterlot or Manehattan to come down here.” He began repeatedly jabbing at the ground with his hoof as he explained the process. “They would’ve taken a day or two to show up, they would probably ask me some stupid question, like whether or not I’ve tried unplugging it and plugging it back in again,” he paused to whisper in Cosworth’s ear, “Whatever the hay that means,” before continuing. “Then they’d look at the real problem with this bored face and go, ‘yep, it’s broke!’ and say they would have to take measurements and order replacement parts from a metalworker if we didn’t have none. Then, eventually the town wouldn’t be missing a water wheel no more. You just did it, no questions asked, then ask for pocket change. That’s not right! Cosworth, son, I don’t care what you think, but you’ve saved me time, money, and a week’s frustration and hair splitting. That’s worth the money and then some.”
Cosworth stood, silent for a moment. “Oh,” was all he could say at first. “Hey, is this a problem anywhere else in town?” he asked as he tucked the bits into one of his saddlebags as he felt the money slowly grow heavier in his grasp. “This sort of stuff is sort of my special skill…sort of.” He scratched the back of his head as he glanced down the river at a few more water wheels in the distance.
“To varying degrees,” Steady Flow said without missing a beat. “I’ll put in a good for you, don’t worry. My partners’ll be thrilled to hear we’ve finally got an industrial mechanic who works locally. You have a nice day now, Cosworth.” With that, the two ponies bid each other farewell and Cosworth once again found himself wandering the streets of Hoofington.
As he built his map of the town, it occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten at all. It was not that the emptiness had any effect on him; it was a reminder that normal ponies did things like eat food in addition to drinking and sleeping. It would be unlikely that anypony would notice that Cosworth ran on literally nothing, as though he were some sort of magical robot, but, he reminded himself, “safe is better than sorry.” He eventually found his way into a coffee shop, not out of preference, but proximity.
As he stepped up to the counter, the interior of the building didn’t particularly blow Cosworth away. Must have arrived during a quiet hour, he thought as he noticed that, other than the staff, he was on the only pony around. A quiet, “huh,” escaped his lips before he turned back to the attendant pony. “I’ll take the strongest brew you can make. I’m gonna have a long evening.”
