//------------------------------// // Pygmailion // Story: Friendship is Revolution // by ultiville //------------------------------// The last thing in evidence is a sealed sandwich bag containing a thumb drive and a note. Your honors, our lab believes this to be an authentic digital video recording of the meeting between Twilight Sparkle, Officer Diaz, and Mr. Lasombra. It was taken by Officer Diaz and so appears from her point of view. One of the judges plugs the thumb drive into her laptop, and a moment later the large screen set into the meeting room's wall lights up. The footage is slightly low resolution but still easy to make out, and shows the rooftop of the Legal Spirits bar. It looks pretty much like any rooftop in Cambridge: flat, with the occasional chimney or vent. At the far end of the roof a tall, thin man stands. His black hair is shoulder length and slightly shaggy, contrasting with his well-trimmed goatee. He wears a stylish black suit, with black undershirt and tie. The rest of the judges focus intently on the screen. "Are you 'Shades'?" Twilight Sparkle says. The judges all recognize her voice, but the camera shifts halfway through her sentence, catching her in frame. To most of the judges, seeing her still brings forth a brief look of confusion. "I'm David Lasombra," he replies, "and I go by 'Shades' online, yes. But come now, surely you remember your creator?" "My creator? What are you talking about?" Lasombra laughs, and walks closer across the roof. "Hey buddy, that's close enough," Diaz's voice sounds loudest, since she's wearing the microphone. Lasombra stops moving, but not smiling. "It hardly matters, officer, if I commanded her, she'd come to me. Really though, Twilight, you don't remember me at all? I suppose the first thing I'll have to do when I get you home is fix your memory. I have no idea what went wrong with it." "What are you talking about? Why would I go with you? I don't know you at all." Lasombra sighs. "You are my toy, Twilight. I constructed you. All your memory of what happened on the show, of Equestria, it's all fiction. The show is all there is. You are a machine, and I made you, and programmed you, because I wanted Twilight Sparkle in my life. And you will be again. Come along, we'll fix you all up. Sorry she bothered you, officer." The camera rotates and Twilight fills the view. Her eyes are wide, her mouth half open. "Wait, what?" Officer Diaz says, "That doesn't make any sense. I sat with her on the couch, she's warm, her chest moves. She eats! Only vegetarian stuff but I mean, she's a pony, that makes sense. And I had to show her how to use a human toilet!" "No," Twilight says softly, "no, no, no..." "Oh yes," Lasombra says, "I made her very convincing, didn't I? I wanted to be able to do everything with her. She's by far my finest work. Years and years ahead of anything outside a lab. I started working on her during season one. I had to make changes of course, like adding the wings, even if they're purely decorative. But you know, machinery runs hot, and requires fuel. I just made her run hot in the right places, and use the right fuels, and air-cool in the correct way, to seem convincing." "No, no, no..." "But what about her magic? I saw her wait tables with telekinesis. Are you saying you somehow invented that, and use it to make a pervert-bot of a pony?" "You must be mistaken," the camera shifts to a frowning Lasombra, "her horn does contain an electromagnet that can draw specially prepared objects to it, but not more than that. Are you sure it wasn't a trick?" The camera shifts back to Twilight, now looking up with a small smile. Several pebbles from the rooftop rise around her. The judges gasp, followed shortly by the recorded Lasombra. "But, that shouldn't possible...it must be her." The camera moves back to Lasombra. "It'd be too much, to have some fictional character appear on a hilltop right near my lab, just as my robot version disappears? No. I made her clever. It must be some kind of trick she's learned. Besides, I have proof. There's a test!" The pebbles drop to the roof with a clatter. "Go on," Twilight says, voice low. "But you're not touching her," Diaz adds, "tell me what to do instead." Twilight nods. "Put your hand on her side, about six inches left of her cutie mark, level with the center of it. You'll feel a small button. That should be enough, but press it if you like. It won't shut her down or anything, but it'll open the control panel." The camera focuses on Twilight again, and now she's looking directly at it, her expression unreadable. "Do you want me to?" Diaz asks. Twilight nods. The camera moves closer to Twilight, until even with the less-than-HD resolution the judges can make out individual hairs on her coat. A hand moves into frame, gently moving over her side, then stops. "Twilight," Diaz says slowly, "there is something here. Should...should I try?" Twilight's eyes widen, and she looks away, but she whispers, "yes." A moment later, a section of her coat flips open, revealing a tangled mess of wires above a circuit board with several lit LEDs. The camera turns to look at Twilight's face, just as she turns back to look herself. Her eyes fly open as wide as possible, her jaw goes slack. "What...no..." she sinks to her knees, "no, I can't, I'm not..." "Twilight Sparkle, you are mine," Lasombra says firmly, "and I order you to come with me home, so we can fix this." "No..." she whispers, then louder, "no, I won't." The camera moves again to Lasombra. He's frowning. "Did you not understand? I order you to come with me." "I said no!" Twilight yells. The camera jerks to the side and two arms come into view as Officer Diaz shields her eyes from the sudden storm of pebbles flying away from Twilight. "Mr. Lasombra," she says, though her voice shakes, "I don't think the law has anything to say about robots that can make their own choices, but my friend here says she's not going with you." The camera turns back, and Officer Diaz's hand presses the panel in Twilight's side shut, then gently pats her back. The focus moves back to Lasombra. "Now take that no for an answer and go home yourself. She's not yours anymore." He snarls and turns to go. "The law doesn't say anything, of course," he says as he goes, "and I can prove I made her, that she's mine. I'll see you in court, Officer Diaz, and then I'll bring you home, Twilight." The screen goes black. "So," says the judge with the laptop, her voice warm, but firm, "we've heard all the arguments, and seen the evidence, such as it is. There is, not surprisingly, very little precedent involved in judging this case on this level, but I hope you all understand why I thought it was necessary. I know how I'd like to rule, and I think, like Brown, it would send a strong message if it were unanimous." She looks at each of the other judges in the room. "What do you all think?"