Warning: spoilers for the Vulcanus Saga.
A week and a half after the Battle of Las Vegas, Erwin arrives in the parking lot of his familiar, beloved Foundation branch.
blip
Before heading inside, Erwin spots an Arkaydian immigrant, red-skinned and four-armed, with curly dark red hair, happily and obviously drunkenly dancing down the street, occasionally pausing to hug a random passerby with all four of his arms.
“He’s gone, he’s gone, the bastard is finally gone! Glory to Calvin Korkea, savior of Arkay, quencher of the Unquenchable Flame! Gods above, I love this planet, and I love you Earthlings for producing someone like him!”
Erwin chuckles to himself. He knows precisely why that guy’s celebrating, and thinks he’s entitled to it.
Asimov, Erwin’s robot fluffy, has finally had a Goodfellow installed, and he and Hershey, Erwin’s flesh and blood fluffy, have been making frequent use of it.
Prometheus finally got off the fence too, getting one installed as well.
He vetoed his honorary nephew Gamma’s suggestion to have his new Goodfellow modified to sing show tunes, but admitted that he found it very funny, and if Gamma could persuade Valerie to do so, that Gamma is free to have his own Goodfellow modified all he likes.
Gamma is currently at Valerie’s lab, trying to convince her, and so far, not having much success.
As Erwin enters the lobby, he sees a new face behind the counter.
Well, a new face. He’s very familiar with the owner of that face.
“Good morning, Doctor Stahlberg.”
Her body, made of metal from head to toe. Her metallic hair in a bob cut, her eyes glowing a pleasant shade of pink, her smile having a mischievous quality to it, her torso designed to resemble the Faucheuse Foundation’s lilac uniform.
“Guten morgen, Minerva.”
Yes, Minerva finally got off the fence too.
And before you ask, yes, she’s got a Petticoat installed.
“Hold on, a feral just walked into one of the booths.”
“It’s alright, I should get to the examination room. Is Mark here?”
“No, he’s doing Association work today. Rosa’s here, though. In the bathing room, she just finished bathing Cleo and Julius.”
“Did you–”
Minerva giggles.
“Yes, I played Car Wash again, and yes, she swore in Spanish.”
“Please tell Rosa to come this way, then. We’ll probably be getting a new arrival in a few minutes.”
Sure enough, as Erwin moves on, he hears a faint blip from a room off the lobby, and, from elsewhere in the building, the muffled sound of Christina Aguilera’s Car Wash and complaints in Spanish heralding Rosa approaching the lobby, the sounds gradually getting louder as she gets closer, the song playing from whichever of the many speakers across the building is currently closest to Rosa.
Erwin is sure that he can hear Minerva laughing too.
Gilda, who often mans, or rather, womans the reception counter, is taking some time off work, grieving the death of her ex-husband Scott.
It took them a while after their ugly divorce, initiated right in this very lobby, to be on mutual good terms again.
Gilda is one of the few people outside the ChaotiX who knows the full story of Scott’s death, and that the armored lunatic on a hoverboard who attacked Korkea Airlines was, in fact, Scott’s psychotic alter ego.
The Dark Demon did kidnap her, after all, and made no effort to hide whose inner darkness made manifest he was.
She knows that Scott spent his final moments saving Calvin, the brother he bullied relentlessly in their youth, from an eldritchian horror from the stars. She knows that Scott was himself at the end, and that he died a hero.
And Gilda was pleasantly surprised to learn that she had been included in Scott’s will. She actually got more than any of his siblings bar Calvin.
Scott’s will stated that he insisted on paying Calvin back all the stolen allowance money, plus interest, and that Scott would haunt Calvin if he turned it down.
Calvin seriously considered turning the money down just so he could see Scott again.
Naturally, poor Gilda has had to deal with her other former siblings-in-law sucking up to her, and Victor has had to tell them to back off before he starts breaking fingers.
Seriously, it hasn’t been two weeks.
No class.
Not long after Erwin arrives in his trusty examination room, Calvin and Marley bring his first patient of the day in via carrier.
A visibly pregnant mare, from the herd that involuntarily took up residence in the Arizonian military base. The rest of the herd has been relocated to Blueberry’s Forest, and with the smarty having fled to another timeline, there’s been a regime change.
“Got a special case here, Erwin. Apparently, this mare was knocked up by that persuasive purple smarty. General Lucas wants to make sure that the stuff that empowered him doesn’t affect the foals in any way.”
“Am sumfin wong wif babbehs, mistah Bestest Hoomin?”
“I hope not. You might find it hard to say no to them.”
“Let’s just get her on here, Cal.”
So Calvin opens the carrier, carefully levitating her onto the Stahlskanner, Erwin’s medical scanner, with his telekinesis.
ping!
“I think the foals are healthy, Cal. But I don’t know if they’ve inherited their father’s power of persuasion. We’ll monitor the dam, and I suggest that you have a ChaotiX member with immunity to mind control posted outside her room until the birth. Sweetheart, do you mind staying here for a while?”
“Nu, mistah dok-tow.”
As Erwin calls Sasha in to bathe the dam, Calvin’s appearance suddenly changes, his hair turning black, his skin turning pale, his eyes turning blood red and black, his teeth becoming sharp and yellow.
His nano suit shifts its appearance too, ever so slightly, the green, yellow and red lines of his black battle suit becoming solid blood red.
“Or WE could guard her. It’s like a seesaw, remember?”
“Eep! Wut happund to mistah Bestest Hoomin?!?”
Unlike the dam, Erwin isn’t surprised by the sudden transformation.
“It’s alright, dear.”
He strokes the dam to calm her down, before turning back to Calvin.
Or rather, not Calvin, but…
“Hello, Niv. Can you let Cal take the wheel again, please? There’s something I need to ask him.”
“Alright, alright. Cal, Erwin wants to-- oh, yeah, of course you heard him. What? No, I dunno what it’s about. Yeah, it probably IS that, he’s not the FIRST person to ask. So take the-- seriously, Fi, you started playing imaginary pool without me? Take the wheel, Cal, I gotta go chalk my imaginary pool cue. I’m coming, Lucille!”
Calvin’s appearance reverts to normal, and he pets the dam.
“See? I’m fine, kiddo. What’s up, Erwin?”
As Sasha walks in, cautiously lifting the dam onto a wheeled cart, Erwin speaks in a gentle tone.
“How, er… how are you feeling, Cal? Are you doing okay?”
“…About as okay as I can be doing, considering the circumstances.”
“If you need to take some time off work–”
“Those three Gurus are still out there. So are M-62 and his pal. All five of them are just as responsible for Scotty’s death as Vulcanus was. Plus there’s a bunch of other things we still need to deal with, like Argyrum and Dehak. I can’t rest easy until those old bastards and those two shitrats are brought to justice for what they did to Scotty.”
“Mawwey fink doze too am shitwats tuu.”
“We’re usually on the same page, Mar.”
“Did you two see that Arkaydian man outside, Cal?”
Calvin nods, grinning.
“Oh yeah, he hugged me. He said his daughter died during the drought on Arkay. So yeah, that guy already liked me after I wished all the victims of the drought back to life, and now that I nailed the bastard behind the drought, I think he’s about to start another fan club.”
“As wong as he nu stawt anudda chuwch.”
“Heh. Yeah, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t want the Arkaydians to start worshipping me next. Erwin, we’ve gotta get going.”
“Of course, Cal. Take care of yourself.”
“…I will. I’ll send someone to keep an eye on that dam. I think Audrey is free.”
“Yu fink Skawt cud bee-come a neff-uh-wim tuu, daddeh? Wud da Baws Up Dewe wet him?”
“…I’d vouch for him, Mar.”
As Calvin leaves, Erwin is sure that he can see tears in Calvin’s eyes.
So Calvin and Marley leave, and Erwin gets his examination room ready for his next patient.
King Tema, Gallo of Vajarsi, brings his stallion Zaru in.
Vajarsi is a long way away from Earth, but the Tele-Ports make the trip a breeze, and Tema has been told by Calvin that Erwin is the best fluffy doctor in the business.
“Zaru hasn’t pooped in three days, Doctor. Please, if you can cure him, I’ll make you a rich man!”
“Dewe am nu nee fow mewwoh-dwama, daddeh. Owwie.”
“Worry not, we deal with constipation all the time. Has he eaten anything unusual?”
“Unusual for Earthlings or unusual for Saingans? He loves roast zaru, funnily enough.”
Erwin quickly figures out what the issue is.
“Have you only been feeding him meat, sir?”
“Well… yes. Us Saingans mostly eat meat.”
“Well, fluffies require a balanced diet. He needs greens too, and some high fiber food. And we can prescribe a laxative.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Zaru, I didn’t know.”
“It am awwite, daddeh. Owwie.”
“I suggest that you two stop by Flufftopia and pick up some kibble on your way home. Highly nutritious, high in fiber, and not made of fluffies.”
Tema balks at the last one.
“…Kibble made of fluffies? Yikes. Does Cal know? He wouldn’t take it.”
“Yes, he knows, and that’s banned around here. Oh, do you have any, ah, local currency?”
“I can exchange some, no worries. Come on, Zaru, let’s go get all that shit out of you.”
“…Dis nu am gunna be fun, huh.”
The Saingan King and his fluffy depart, and at a press of a button, mechanical arms descend and disinfect the examination room for Erwin once more.
In a flash of light, Samuel the angel, in hobo form, appears, holding a grievously injured mare in his arms.
“Quickly Erwin, get her in a vat–”
But he’s too late, and the mare expires in his arms.
He gently places her on the table, closing her eyes.
“I’m sorry, little one. I’ll see you Up There.”
Then he briefly glances towards a corner, addressing someone who Erwin can’t see.
“Don’t you even think about arguing with me on this.”
Erwin pats Samuel on the shoulder.
“We can’t save everyone, my friend.”
“I know. But as an angel, I’m wired to protect the innocent, and failing to do so really pisses me off. I’ll make sure the bastard who did this gets the express bus Down There.”
Erwin sees a sticky white fluid leaking out of the mare’s nethers, puts two and two together, and reaches the conclusion that the perpetrator deserves what he’s about to get.
“I have to ask. Have you guys made any progress with Hans’ business–”
Samuel holds up a hand.
“Sorry, Erwin. Classified information. All I can say is that we think we know who they are, and we’re not surprised that they pulled a stunt like that.”
“I hope you guys deal with them. There’s not a lot we can do.”
“Hey, the ChaotiX has enough to deal with in the mortal realm. Let my people handle shit on the Other Side, that’s our job.”
Samuel leaves, to punish the mare’s killer.
He left the bastard trapped inside a circle of holy fire.
If the bastard was innocent, he wouldn’t be trapped anymore.
He’d be able to simply walk out through the flames.
It’s a pretty good litmus test, isn’t it?
After Erwin, as always, gets his examination room ready again, his next patient is brought in.
This one is being brought in by an ordinary human. A young woman wearing a light blue, light pink and white sundress. Her fluffy, a pegasus stallion, who doesn’t identify as a stallion, has the same colors: white fluff, light blue mane and tail, light pink eyes.
Let’s just say that since she discovered the existence of a certain magical concoction that is surprisingly easy to prepare, that woman has been feeling a lot more comfortable in her own skin.
The woman places a bottle of that concoction on the table, a glowing liquid that steadily changes color between a masculine blue and a feminine pink.
Or, perhaps, a feminine blue and a masculine pink.
Pink wasn’t always a girl’s color, you know.
“Here’s what we wanna know, Doc: does this stuff work on fluffies? Because this helped me so much, it might help Christine too.”
“Kwis-tine nu knoo da wowdsies fow how Kwis-tine fewt.”
Yes, that can happen, but it’s even rarer in fluffies than homosexuality.
To be fair, fluffies can just about grasp the concept of there being two genders, and anything more complex than that is lost on most fluffies.
“Young lady, I am afraid that you’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t have much expertise in magical matters.”
“Damn! So do you know someone we can talk to? I don’t know a lot of mages, I had a hard enough time finding this potion in the Magical Quarter.”
“Fortunately, I know plenty of mages. Here, take this number–”
Erwin scribbles a number down on a scrap of paper.
“–and call my good friend Deston. I’ll let him know that you’ll be calling. I’m sure that he can assist you with this, and answer any questions you may have. He’s always happy to help normos with magical matters, because he knows what can happen when they try to DIY it.”
“Thank you, Doc.”
After slipping the phone number of the strongest wizard in the world into her purse, the young woman picks the bottle up.
“I can’t believe how easy it is now. Kinda feels like I’m disrespecting all the people who had such a hard transition before all this magic happened.”
“Young lady, with logic like that, we’d still be living in caves and rubbing sticks together to make fire. I wish magic had been revealed sooner. It could have helped so many more people.”
“I’m not complaining, Doc. It’s just a lot to get used to, you know? Even though it’s been a couple of years. But again, not complaining, magic’s awesome. Maybe I should enroll at C.U., I could have brewed this stuff myself. They’ve got a potions class, right? Is the teacher–”
“No, he’s not ambiguously evil, and he washes his hair frequently.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t tell Deston that you asked that, he hates those books.”
“Alright. So, I gotta ask, are there any other ways to do what this stuff does? Like, alien tech or something?”
“I think there’s at least one extraterrestrial race that can change sex on command. And there’s some extraordinary Lumixian gene editing technology that can rewrite one’s entire genome on the fly. It’s painful, though, so not something you’d do on a whim.”
“Ouch. Really?”
“Really. If you think a rapid sex change is bizarre enough, you should see some of the body modification trends on Lumix. You ever felt like you needed an extra pair of hands?”
“Like that drunk guy dancing and hugging people outside?”
“Is he still doing that? Oh well. He’s from Arkay, let him have his fun. They haven’t had a lot to celebrate in recent years.”
“My neighbor’s from Arkay too. So I get it.”
Christine and her owner depart, and as the mechanical arms do their job once more, Erwin leaves too.
Time for a break.
As Erwin makes his way to the lobby, he passes a recent hire.
Short, hunchbacked, his lopsided face and body covered in stitches and surgery scars. Both of his hands have two thumbs, the extraneous thumbs appearing to be the result of highly experimental self-surgery. He’s wearing a white lab coat, which had to be custom made.
“Hello, Igor. Settling in alright?”
Igor, no relation whatsoever to the owner of the Inn Between Worlds, nods a lopsided nod.
“Yeth, Marthter. It’th not what I’m uthed to, but I think I’ll do alright here.”
“I’ve told you, you don’t have to call me Master. It makes me a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”
“But it’th Igor family tradithion, Marthter. I therve you, and you are the marthter here. I’ve got a nephew with no rethpect for family tradithion. Young Igor doethn’t even do the lithp. My brother Igor is tho embarrathed, Marthter.”
Erwin gives up.
“…Alright, if it makes you happy, Igor.”
Leaving Igor behind with a lopsided smile, Erwin continues the epic journey towards the nearby Starbucks.
As Erwin passes through the lobby, he spots Prometheus, chatting to Minerva.
“This thing’s got so many settings even I can’t keep track of them. I think Madam Valerie’s going to have to write an instruction manual before these are made available to the public.”
“So, uh, do you, um, have anyone to… give that thing a test drive with?”
Minerva makes a valiant attempt at bedroom eyes, but fails, not having much experience with bedroom eyes, or facial expressions in general.
But Prometheus doesn’t seem to notice Minerva going crosseyed and staring at her own nose.
“I think I’ve got someone in mind… dunno if they want to, though…”
“Oh, I think they might want to.”
Erwin moves on, pretending that he didn’t hear the robots attempting to flirt with each other, possibly without even realising that they’re flirting.
In Prometheus and Minerva’s defence…
Neither of them has a lot of experience in that arena.