Once Upon an Applejack
Quartum 23, 1409 AN
19:43
Applejack tilted the brim of her hat back just a touch, watching the road with half-lidded eyes. She shifted a bit, to keep the bark of the tree she was leaning against from digging too far into her skin, and slowly chewed at the hay in her mouth. It was a warm, lazy summer day, the kind where the sun got into you, right down to your bones. Drowsy was the rule, and everyone moved in a slow, sleepy fashion.
She loved these days. They meant soul-soothing warmth, and smiling faces. They meant people walking the orchard, and lazing under the trees; lovers, friends, and family alike, just enjoying all that life had to offer. And today, it seemed, it meant at least one new face.
She’d been watching the newcomer for a while, now, content to let her explore and see the place on her own for a while. She’d caught Applejack’s eye, not just because she’d never seen her before, but also because she wasn’t acting like most other folks. Where they wandered aimlessly, she moved with purpose; where they looked about in a lazy daze, she was bright and wondering, as if seeing things for the first time. And perhaps she was.
The unicorn had made her way fairly close to where Applejack was, and the mare figured now was as good a time as any to strike up a conversation. She cleared her throat, catching the lavender mare’s attention, and nodded in greeting. “Howdy,” she said.
“Oh, hello,” the unicorn said in reply, moving towards her and extending a hoof. “I didn’t see you there.”
“No worries,” she said, raising her own hoof to touch the unicorn’s. “Enjoying the orchard?”
“Oh yes!” was the reply, accompanied by an emphatic nod. “I hadn’t expected to find a farm, especially one so big. Do you know what it’s here for?”
Applejack chuckled. “I should hope so, seein’ as I run it.”
“Oh! Well then, you’re the perfect person to ask!”
“True. But how’s about we make some proper introductions before I start babblin’ about the farm. M’name’s Applejack,” she said, pushing her hat up off her head just a touch. “And this here is Sweet Apple Acres.”
“Designation TSparkle.ai,” the unicorn replied, and Applejack gave a mental nod. “Named Twilight Sparkle. I’ve just moved in.”
“Oh? Where at?”
“Semper Liberi Bibliotheca,” Twilight responded, and Applejack frowned.
“Sorry, sugar cube, doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Oh, right. Well, it’s the giant tree on the edge of the forest. The one with a door.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “That new spot? I was wondering when that was going to go live. You’re the mare for it, eh?”
The unicorn grinned, nodding. “Yep! Though, it’s nowhere near ready to go live, yet. I’m not even sure when it will be. There’s a lot of work I have to do.”
“Ah, don’t worry about taking too long,” Applejack said, waving a hoof. “I find it’s best to take your time and do it right than to cut corners and come out with a buggy piece of crap.”
“That’s what Rainbow said, too. And yeah, that’s the plan!”
So she knew Rainbow, eh? Which also meant that pegasus was back in the region. She’d have to go look her up later. For now, though, “Well, good. Now, you were wondering about the farm?”
“Oh, yes! It’s a curious thing to me; I mean, why do we need food and farms in a world like this? It must serve some purpose, or it wouldn’t be maintained like it is.”
Applejack chuckled again, and pushed herself off the tree. “You’d be right. It does have a purpose. I’m guessing you’re rather fresh from the pod,” she said, and started to walk. The unicorn nodded, a slight flush coming to her cheeks as she moved to follow. Cute.
“The 17th, actually. I’m still getting my bearings. There’s just so much to learn.”
Applejack nodded. Only six days old? Shoot, she wasn’t much more than a baby. “Well, part of the reason for it is along the lines of why the world bothers with grass, sun, water, and air; it recreates the physical and stays as true as makes sense, so that AIs get used to it and users enjoy it all. Me da always liked to point out how great it was that even those who would never see a tree in the physical world, or go swimmin’, or stuff like that, could still know exactly what it was like.”
Twilight nodded, and smiled. “It’s all so beautiful, too. I think that it might be worth it just for that.”
“Aye. That it would. But there’s a lot more to Sweet Apple Acres than that. Here, it’s best shown rather than told,” said Applejack, raising a hind hoof. She tapped a nearby tree, and caught the apple that fell in the brim of her cap, grinning a bit at the unicorn’s expression. “Here, try it.”
“Um,” said Twilight, looking puzzled. “Okay.” She leaned forward, and grasped the bright green fruit between her teeth, and proceeded to eat it. Her expression changed at the first bite, confusion replaced by glee, and then wonder. “Oh, wow! That’s delicious! And … oh my.”
Applejack nodded. “You probably haven’t eaten since you got out of the pod, have you?” Twilight shook her head. “You should get into the habit of daily meals. Food here is maintenance. You can’t keep yourself in order all by yourself, and this, and other food, will keep you healthy.” She turned, and started walking again, talking as she went.
“Defragmentation of your memory, cleaning out orphaned pointers, freeing up your resources … your sleep cycle does a lot of that, too, but that’s you doing your own maintenance. You eat, and you get outside help. Everyone needs it,” she said, snagging an apple of her own and chowing down. “Even users.”
Twilight nodded, licking her lips. “And I suppose it’s ‘grown’ to recreate the physical.”
“Yes and no,” Applejack replied. “Code is complex, Twilight. And yours, like all AIs, is even more so. Beyond that, it’s constantly changing, and being added to - with each second, you’re making new connections and killing off old ones. It’s just part of life, that, but to keep up, the maintenance code has to be almost as complex. It has to be adaptive, and adaptive code isn’t really written. It’s grown. Nurtured.”
“Like food is at a farm.”
“Exactly, sugar cube.” They walked for awhile, in silence; Twilight seemed to be lost in thought, probably processing it all, and Applejack wasn’t about to interrupt. Eventually, however, they reached the farmhouse, and Applejack nudged the unicorn.
“Hm? What?” she said, blinking. “Oh, wow, I really drifted off there, didn’t I? Where are we?”
“At the farmhouse. I figured you’d want to set up a delivery schedule for your home.”
“Oh! For routine maintenance, of course. Oh, but, I don’t know about payment yet,” Twilight said, her face falling, and Applejack waved a hoof.
“No worries about that, sugar cube; every new AI gets a month’s allowance to start, and we’ll work out the rest later. Come on in, let’s get you situated.”
“Oh! Okay,” the unicorn said, and followed her inside.