He fluffed his wings as the transmitting key clicked out the code. There was something so wonderful about using the ponies' own communications systems against them. It was a rush every time. His father had had to rely on encoded letters, and one never knew who was reading those. With the telegraph, though—everybody on the line got the message, but nobody knew who it was from or who it was addressed to, and Gorka thought that was much more satisfactory. Spying was better when it was done in plain sight, right under the oblivious muzzles of the ponies.