The view through the panoramic windows was breathtaking. Far below and in the distance, Meg could see Ponyville and Twilight’s castle, and beyond that Sweet Apple Acres. She even thought she could barely make out Rainbow Dash’s cloud home. Possibly by design, the view was not spoiled by the inclusion of the Everfree Forest; not that it couldn’t be seen, but to see it you had to stand far to the right and close to the glass.
The journey to Celestia’s private tea room was like a fairy tale come true. It began with a trip by royal chariot, pulled by four pegasi of the Royal Guard. After touching down on the plaza in front of the palace, they entered and walked through the high-arched, marble hallway covered in tapestries highlighting Equestrian history. At the end of the hall were a pair of massive doors, emblazoned with the Solar and Lunar Crests, obviously leading to the throne room, now closed for the weekend.
Everypony they encountered gave the regalia-adorned Twilight—and by extension, herself as her guest—the royal treatment, literally, getting out of their way, if necessary, and offering a quick bow as they passed by. It ended with a flight up a spacious stairwell, to a floor near the top of the building, and down a corridor to a modestly sized room.
The walls were covered in maple wood with cherry wood accents, the floor covered in cherry wood exclusively. The light wood reflected the indirect, early afternoon sunlight pouring in through the expansive windows, lighting up the room, giving it an airy feel. In the middle was a modest mahogany table, maybe big enough for a half-dozen ponies to fit around it, surround by padded, deep red cushions on the floor. A side door led to a kitchenette. Exquisite craftsmareship was evident everywhere, as was a patina of age; not that anything looked old or worn out, but somehow one could tell this room had not been remodeled in centuries.
Behind her, Princess Twilight Sparkle—that title was unavoidable in this place—was getting the tea started. Years of studying under Celestia had taught her the proper way to brew tea; she contentedly used her magic to heat the kettle, part of a silver tea service set that also exhibited craftsmareship and the patina of enduring service.
It would not be long before Princess Celestia arrived.
Meg decided it wouldn’t be a good idea for the Ruler of Equestria’s first look at her to be of her haunches, so she turned around and took a seat in front of her laptop computer. It didn’t do much to calm her nerves. It wasn’t about Celestia herself; she knew better than that, she even knew of her husband’s encounter with the princess in the archives. It was the subject of this meeting, informal as it may be.
To take her mind off that, she double-checked the presentation she and Twilight would be giving on the magical field simulator they’d been working on. They spent last night and this morning coming up with something to show—not that they had made a breakthrough or anything. It was simply a concrete demonstration of what human technology could do.
As tempting as it was, she abstained from surfing the web, in case Twilight caught a glimpse. Meg didn’t want her wondering how to do the same thing on the tablet she was loaned, or why it didn’t work. Steve had only got around to enchanting the laptop’s antenna last night, after they had returned from a celebratory dinner Twilight gave them at one of Ponyville’s finer restaurants.
It was frustrating, though possible, to work the keyboard and trackpad with hooves. At least it took her mind off her cutie mark.
Twilight noticed her unease, if not the reason for it, and gave her a warm smile. “Relax, there’s nothing to be worried about,” she assured her.
Meg looked up from the screen. “No, it’s not that—” She inspected a hoof, sighing. “I don’t suppose there’s a spell to make fingers sprout from a hoof, is there?” Lyra could do that in Anthropology, so perhaps it was possible.
Twilight thought about it for a few seconds, as the sound of clopping hooves came down the corridor outside. It wasn’t clear if she was trying to identify such a spell, or to come up with a polite way to avoid doing so. “No, not that I know of, sorry.”
Figures. She could probably live with using telekinesis; but even if possible, that would mean giving up her wings. Sigh… Of course, some ponies didn’t have to choose. Meg didn’t think the odds were good that Celestia would grant a request to be made an alicorn just so she could type while flying.
The hoof clops continued getting closer. It wasn’t long before Princess Celestia entered the room. “My dear Twilight,” she said with a warm smile, as she gave her former student a quick nuzzle, as a mother would to her foal. “I see you have gotten the tea started.”
Twilight gave her a nod and a smile in confirmation. Little imagination was needed to see a young filly trying to please her mentor. It was Meg’s most intimate glimpse so far into the young alicorn’s life, bringing to mind some of the first words Twilight had ever spoken to her: we do not live our lives for your entertainment. Here was the proof. Was she destined to become a part of them? Up until now, she had felt like an outsider, lucky to have acquired a backstage pass, but it was only a matter of time until that pass expired.
Celestia turned her attention to Meg, maintaining her warm smile. “And you must be Meg. I have heard so much about you.”
Meg had stood up when the Princess had entered the room, and she now started to bow.
“No need for that here,” Celestia said serenely, preempting the bow. “This is an informal affair.”
Presumably, she didn’t want to be referred to as “Your Highness” either. Celestia walked around the table to the side next to the window, as Meg said, “It’s an honor to meet you.”
The diarch took her seat, her long, flowing mane backlit by the light of her Sun. As with Rainbow Dash, and unlike in the cartoon, the pastel colors of her mane and tail smoothly blended from one to another, as opposed to being a handful of disjoint bands of color. From the covers of her books, she knew the same was true of Daring Do’s monochromatic mane. The limitations of low budget animation…
“Have you enjoyed your time in Equestria?” Celestia casually said, her face impossible to read, just as Steve had told her. It could have been anything from a meaningless icebreaker to a loaded question, a question to which the wrong answer would have consequences.
Meg assumed the former, given the circumstances. “Very much so. It’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything.” She mentally kicked herself. Couldn’t I come up with something less clichéd?
“And how would you describe being a pony?”
“I love being a pegasus, being able to fly. I do miss having hands now and then, I have to admit. What really surprised me was how normal it felt being a pony. I thought I’d have to learn to walk all over again.”
Celestia briefly looked aside to infinity, a smile on her face. “Yes, there is a reason my sister added that to my spell,” she reminisced.
Refocusing her attention on Meg, she got down to business. “The reason we are here, of course, is your recent cutie mark epiphany. It interests me greatly, because it may address a predicament we have.”
“The magic leak? I’m afraid I don’t understand how that helps.”
Enveloped in a lavender glow, the Solar Crest embossed kettle floated to each similarly embossed cup in turn, filling them with steaming tea.
“The leak is a serious problem, of course, but I’m referring to what comes afterwards, once that has been dealt with. We now know that your realm, full of humans, exists. Should we avoid you? Establish relations? We don’t know.”
“Nor do we know what to make of the existence of that cartoon, or the fact that we speak nearly identical languages, not to mention countless other similarities,” added Twilight.
“Then I discover my destiny is to be a bridge between our worlds.” Meg took a sip. It was very good tea, but then it was fit for a princess.
“Precisely,” Celestia said with a warm smile.
Ever since that epiphany, Meg’s doubts have been growing. Could she be mistaken? What was she supposed to do anyway? If only her cutie mark had appeared after that epiphany, like a real pony. She wasn’t even a pony at the time! Yet the princesses seemed certain. “But I don’t have any answers for you,” she finally said. “I have no clue how to fulfill my destiny.”
“Join the club,” said the newest princess sympathetically.
As Meg looked at Twilight she could only think of all that the young alicorn had experienced in her short life, shorter even than her own, that it all actually happened. Yes, that did make her destiny issues look silly by comparison. She could only hope they remained silly. At least my cutie mark isn’t on the Tree of Harmony.
“You are not expected to fulfill your destiny in a few days or even months,” Celestia reassured her. “It may well occupy the rest of your life.”
At least I’m not immortal.
As Twilight topped off all the cups with fresh tea, Celestia said, “You may not be one of my little ponies, but I shall be here to offer you my guidance.”
No, I’m not one of your little ponies, even if I currently look like one. Wait. Offer me guidance? Her feelings about that were surprisingly ambivalent. It sounded a little to good to be true. Surely, Celestia did not mean her ill, but still… what’s the catch?
But then the implications of that statement sunk in. “I may continue visiting Equestria?” she asked hopefully.
“You cannot be a bridge between two realms if you do not live in both of them,” she gently pointed out. “You and your husband may spend as much time as you wish in Equestria. I so decree it.”
Her wings flared with excitement. “Thank you, Your Highness!!” she exclaimed, doing her best not to give the princess a hug.
“That was a much better answer to the question ‘have you enjoyed your time in Equestria?’” Celestia observed with amusement. “I’d also like you to accept the position of Royal Advisor on Human Affairs.”
Say what now?! Meg’s jaw went slack. Celestia placidly waited for her response. “I… uhm…” She looked at Twilight. The protégé beamed back at her. She knew. She looked back at Celestia. “Uh… I’m honored, naturally, but, how could I possibly be considered for something like this?”
Celestia was not in the least taken aback. “Can you name another pony with as much knowledge and experience with humans?”
Meg blinked. Twice. She couldn’t possibly be that naive. How old was she? “But I am a human,” she said, stating the obvious. “Isn’t that, like, a conflict of interest?”
“Precisely,” Celestia said. She took a long sip of tea while Meg looked on in confusion. “Call it a leap of faith, but I believe that conflict resides in your soul, neither side having the upper hoof.”
“Because of my cutie mark.”
“That is my interpretation of it, yes.”
Meg thought it over while drinking some of her tea. It was a plausible interpretation, she had to admit, but was it a correct interpretation? She didn’t know. There was no way to know, other than being tested by whatever the future held for her. And what if it turned out to be a wrong interpretation? What would Celestia do then? But in that case, would it really matter whether she was working for her?
“I don’t know whether that interpretation is correct,” Meg carefully said. “What if it turns out not to be?”
“There’s only one way to find out, is there not?” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “If I should be wrong, so long as you inform me in a timely fashion, I give you my word I shall not hold it against you.”
No, not naive, just willing to take a calculated risk. And keeping Meg close by as an advisor may actually lower that risk. What was it? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Regardless, it was a way of discovering the true meaning of her cutie mark, the risk seemed minimal, and she was going to be a de facto advisor on humanity even if she turned it down, so why not make it official? Actually, there was one small problem…
“What about the time commitment? I already have a full time job and we need the money.”
“The position does come with a generous salary.”
“Um… with all due respect, Equestrian bits are not legal tender back home.”
Celestia was actually caught off guard by that. “Of course, how silly of me. You do need to live in your realm as well.” She thoughtfully took a sip of tea. “There’s no rush. We’ll figure something out.”
And they hadn’t even mentioned commuting. Meg had no independent means of crossing over. Maybe these can all be addressed one day, but with the FBI closing in, could it really wait until then? It didn’t have to be all or nothing, after all.
“I could do one or two evenings a week for now—it’s a start, at least.”
Celestia quickly agreed. “Let’s give that a try.” A smile blossomed on her face. “It would allow my sister to attend too.”
“Why don’t we get started on the presentation,” Twilight said. “Meg?”
Meg woke up the laptop and began to slowly and laboriously type as she started speaking. “We’ve been working on a magical field simulator so that we can safely conduct simulated experiments. I’m about to show a movie created from our first successful simulation, that of a sonic rainboom.”
She should have been ready to hit “play” by this point, but the stress of the situation made her hooves clumsier than usual. “I’m sorry… I’m just not used to hooves.”
Celestia was looking at her awkward attempts at typing with interest. “Yes, I can see how your technology wasn’t designed with ponies in mind. You don’t have to remain a pony for my sake; quite the contrary, I’d like to see you use this device as a human.”
The thought of being a human in Equestria felt odd—except for the first few minutes of her first visit, she had always been a pony here—but it would be a tremendous help, and anyway she’d be a pony again before leaving the room. “Twilight?”
Meg stood back from the table as the younger alicorn approached her. A lavender flash later and the room suddenly looked a lot smaller.
“You truly have mastered this spell,” Celestia declared with pride. “I don’t think I could have done it better myself.” Twilight basked in her mentor’s approval.
Meg had her hands back, but now she had a new problem. The table was too low for her to type standing, and there was no chair for her to sit on. Something would have to be done about that if this was to be a regular occurrence. For now, getting down on her knees on that cushion would have to do—actually, it wasn’t too bad.
She quickly got the movie ready to play, and turned the computer to face Celestia. That’s when she noticed the alicorn intently observing her, as if she had never—of course she hasn’t seen a human before.
“Quite impressive, your hands; though much like a minotaur’s, they’re far nimbler.”
“More so than Spike’s, even,” Twilight added.
It never occurred to Meg that Spike might be able to handle human technology. Too bad he would outgrow it—literally.
All this talk was making her feel too much like a bug under a microscope, and she wanted to get on with the presentation. She was about to start the movie when she noticed the light from the window washing out the display.
She went over to the window. “Let me close the curtains.” As she did so, she saw the skies and clouds, now inaccessible to her, and below them a town she was now barred from visiting. Stop that; you’ll be a pegasus again soon enough. Enjoy having hands.
“Yes, that does make a significant difference,” Celestia said, nodding, as Meg returned to the computer.
With a single, extended finger, Meg pressed on the trackpad, the cursor already positioned on the play button, and started the movie. There was no soundtrack, so she continued her exposition.
“It took about ten hours to run this simulation, even though it covers only ten seconds of elapsed time. Using a coarser grid is much faster, but it introduced so many errors that the end result was not a recognizable sonic rainboom.”
A circular rainbow of colors erupted from the center of the screen, undulating outwards, reaching only halfway to the edge of the display before the simulation ended.
Twilight took over from here. “The human authorities are aware of the doll due to the electromagnetic radiation that’s produced when the magical field undergoes a phase change once it thins out to a certain density. If we can prevent the production of that radiation, they may lose interest; at the very least, it will make it extremely difficult for them to find the doll after we move it, giving us time.
“I hope to use this simulator to find a way of doing that. We can run countless experiments in total safety, and only when we come across a potential solution do we carry out a real experiment. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know how long that will take.”
“If each simulation takes ten hours, that may be too long,” Celestia pointed out.
“It’s possible to rent time on hundreds, even thousands, of computers,” Meg said. “Each can run a different simulation. One computer coordinates the others, deciding which possible solutions to explore and, based on the outcomes, narrows the search space until it finds a correct solution.
“Also, I don’t think we’ll need anything like ten seconds of simulated time to know if it worked.
“Once it starts, it doesn’t need any attention from us, so Twilight can focus on a permanent fix. It just keeps running until it finds a solution, we run out of time, or we run out of money to pay for it.”
“I can assure you money is no—oh, right.” It was a bit shocking to see a sheepish grin on the diarch’s face.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Meg assured her. “I’m very motivated to get this solved. The money is the least of our problems, and it isn’t really that expensive unless we rent time on even more computers.”
“And I still need to define the solution space,” Twilight said. “To do that, I need to study the point where the phase change occurs. We’ll do that tonight.”
The presentation concluded with a live demonstration of the simulation software. Meg went through the user interface, showing how the simulation parameters are setup and the simulation itself is controlled. She finished by running the sonic rainboom simulation from the snapshot saved after having created that movie.
It was in extreme slow motion, of course, the laptop not being as powerful as the desktop that produced that movie. The frame rate was adequate; each increment of time could be computed in a fraction of a second, the problem being an accurate simulation needed very small time increments. And it was easy to see why: despite running about ten thousand times slower than realtime, there were plenty of waves of color, traveling from the invisible leading edge towards the center, crisscrossing and forming eddies, that would be an invisible blur to the naked eye.
“This is the largest time delta that yields a realistic sonic rainboom, but there’s no reason we can’t go smaller. I’ll slow it down by another factor of a hundred.”
She did so, the previous movement slowing to a near standstill. “I can zoom in also, showing finer detail.” She did so, centering on the outer edge of the rainboom. That brought the motion of smaller, and quite active, eddies into view. “I’m not sure how accurate it is at this level of detail; a finer grid is probably needed.”
Celestia’s eyes were glued to the screen. “Quite fascinating. I never suspected there was such richness to this phenomenon.”
“It gets better,” Meg said, enjoying herself. “We can also see stuff that is not visible. For example…” She did something on the laptop. “I’ll map the magical field density to brightness… and viscosity to color, with red being low viscosity and on up through the rainbow until violet for high viscosity.” She then resumed the simulation.
The leading edge of the rainboom was no longer invisible, now being a bright red circle in a sea of dim, uniform green. Waves traveling inwards originated from this shockwave, showing up as variations in brightness, constructively and destructively interfering as they crossed each other, quickly diminishing in amplitude. Viscosity gradually increased away from the boundary, going from red back to a normal green, but not uniformly. As the changes in viscosity caused the waves to refract, this non-uniformity caused the deviations from a perfect circle of smoothly changing colors.
Twilight explained what was going on. “Light seems to be emitted from areas of low viscosity and high turbulence in density variations, particularly where waves constructively interfere. What looks like a solid band of color is really a rapid succession of individual flashes.
“Color is correlated to the angle between the two constructively interfering waves. One set of waves is always perpendicular to the shockwave, traveling towards the center. The other set, at a longer wave length, is emitted at an angle to the first. This angle varies over the circumference of the shockwave, resulting in the color variation. The point on the circumference where this angle is zero seems to be randomly determined by some form of spontaneous symmetry breaking when the shockwave is created.”
Celestia watched the simulation in silence for a bit, before exclaiming, “This is truly quite impressive! I’m pleased you two were able to work together so well, combining the talents of our two realms. The possibilities are endless.”
She stood up. “I’m afraid I have other commitments to attend to, but I look forward to our next meeting. Perhaps you could give an overview of money in your realm?”
“Sure, I’d be happy to,” Meg replied.
Twilight opened the curtains as Celestia left the room. As Meg put the laptop away, the alicorn walked over to her. “Feeling better about the whole destiny thing?”
“If juggling two jobs is all I’m destined to do, I can manage that.” She considered discussing her thoughts on Celestia’s motivations, but decided it wouldn’t be productive. Twilight really did worship the ground Celestia walked on, and while she may become a chess grandmaster a thousand years from now, right now she could barely play checkers.
“Look on the bright side: at least your cutie mark isn’t on the Tree of Harmony,” the alicorn said half jokingly.
Meg walked over to her saddlebags she left by the windows and picked it up, putting it around her neck. As she got her phone out, to take advantage of her hands while she still had them, she replied in kind. “Maybe we should pay it a visit to make sure of that.”
“Not quite ready to give up your hands yet?”
“Almost…” A few finger gestures later… “Will wonders never cease,” she said, looking incredulously at the screen. “Looks like my brother will go to Pinkie’s party after all and he’ll bring Susie too.” She could take a good guess who persuaded him.
“Great! Pinkie will be pleased to hear that.”
She put the phone down on the table and stepped away. “Alright, I’m ready to get my wings back.”
Twilight’s horn lit up and performed the transformation as Meg looked out the window. She could tell she was a pegasus again just from how the skies beckoned to her. “So what do we do next?” the pegasus said.
“I know this little place that serves the best donuts in Canterlot,” proposed Twilight.
Meg pondered possible clever quips, but couldn’t come up with anything usable. She merely said, “Let me guess: Donut Joe’s?”
With mock shock, Twilight exclaimed, “You can read my mind?!” She then giggled. After getting that out of her system, she continued with her planned itinerary. “After that, we’ll return to Ponyville, with a detour to the Tree of Harmony. Somepony ought to check up on it once in a while, and I bet you’d like to see it.”
The Tree of Harmony. But as much as she’d like to see the fabled tree, there was the small problem of its location. “Is it dangerous? The Everfree Forest looks a lot scarier in reality than it did in the cartoon, and it was bad enough there.”
“It’ll be safe enough,” Twilight confidently said. “We’ll be flying in, bypassing most of the forest, and there’s nothing there I can’t handle anyway. Nothing will bother us near the tree itself.”
I suppose there isn’t anything in that forest that you can’t now handle. “I’d love to visit the Tree.”
The chariot landed just outside a huge opening in the ground. There was a set of stairs carved into its side, providing a path to the bottom, but the two winged ponies ignored it, preferring to fly to the back of the underground cavern. There to be found was the Tree of Harmony, a crystalline tree whose branches radiated out from a central hub on the top of its trunk. On its five major branches were embedded five of the Elements of Harmony, still in the shapes of the cutie marks of their respective bearers; in the center was embedded the Element of Magic. Celestia’s and Luna’s cuties marks adorned the trunk.
Meg walked around to the back of the tree, curious to see what was there; the cartoon never showed the tree from that perspective. Nothing of interest was there to be seen, and certainly not her cutie mark—not that she expected to. Nonetheless, she felt some relief confirming it.
“The cartoon doesn’t reveal the origin of the tree,” she said as she walked around to the front, “but it does make it clear it’s at least a thousand years old. Do you know anything more?” She then added, “If you’re willing to tell me, of course.”
Twilight continued gazing at the tree. “Not even Celestia knows its origin. It’s much older than a thousand years, that much I know.”
On impulse, Meg left the ground to get a closer look at the Elements. She began to vaguely sense the harmony radiating from them, an extremely weak version of what she experienced when she was zapped by the Elements during her ponification. How odd this tree should be in perhaps the least harmonious spot in Equestria. She started reaching out to the Element of Magic.
“I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Meg touched it anyway and was rewarded with a painful shock. Retracting her hoof reflexively, she wish she had listened. Fortunately, the pain rapidly faded. Returning to the ground next to Twilight, she said, “I guess you’re not worried about anypony stealing them.”
“Nope.”
Meg held out her phone and snapped a picture. As the tree seemed to glow with an inner light that lethargically pulsated, like the beating heart of the realm itself, she also took a video lasting a minute. Then, on general principles, she took pictures of the chariot, the four Royal Guards still hooked up, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Next, she captured side and back views of the tree, the cave and the forest outside the cave. She even got Twilight to pose in front of the tree. Twilight then offered to take a picture of Meg in front of the tree; Meg figured she was looking for an excuse to use her phone, but she showed her the button to “press” and let her take it in her magic. The alicorn then took a picture of both of them in front of the tree, her magic holding the phone ten feet away and elevated a bit above them.
“Show off,” said Meg playfully. “I guess I’m done taking pictures.”
“And I’ve confirmed the Tree of Harmony is in good shape. Let’s head back.”
Meg closed the door to the apartment and locked it. It was time to pick up Twilight and her husband, at a place far away from the doll that forced them to be visible, not to mention the FBI that had set up shop next door.
Before she could walk more than a few feet, a door behind her opened and she heard Agent Fowler’s voice. “Ah, Meg.” Meg turned around as the agent continued. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but it looked like you weren’t home even though your car was still here.”
“We weren’t.” A true statement. “We got a lift from a friend.” True, in a manner of speaking. “I just got back.” Also true.
It was bad enough the apartment next door became available so soon—she had wondered about that, but apparently the Fongs had been planning to move for several months—but naturally the agents on the case were working overtime, so the weekend provided no relief from them.
“Ah, okay… well, anyway, just wanted to let you know that the effect is strongest at the wall between us, towards the back—and I mean really strong. Perhaps it’s something in the wall itself. We’ll want to check it from the other side at your earliest convenience.”
Meg wished she could tell her, not a chance in Hell, but that would not help the situation in any conceivable fashion. “Sure, no problem; but not now, I’ve someplace to go. I’ll let you know.”
Fowler gave her a courteous smile. “Of course,” she said, and went back inside.
“Could be worse,” she quietly said to herself as she walked to her car. “At least they didn’t evacuate the area.”
She face palmed. Don’t say that! There probably wasn’t a better way to make it happen. At least she wasn’t in Equestria; it didn’t work that way in the human world. Usually. On the other hoof, she was in a magical field. I guess I’ll find out. And once she did, she could tell the results of this unintentional experiment to Twilight; it would surely make her day. Or am I just being silly. It was getting hard to tell.
Meg got in her car, started the engine, and backed out of her parking spot. After a few minutes of driving, she arrived at a large shopping mall and parked in a distant corner of the lot, away from most other cars.
She sent a text message to Steve, announcing her arrival, and got out of the car and stood by its side. Not long afterwards, she heard Twilight say, “We’re here.” They were invisible, but not inaudible, the alicorn having figured out how to tweak the magic of the containment bubble.
There was no one around, so she opened the back door and got out of the way. I sure hope no one is watching. What she was doing would look silly, and it didn’t help when the car twitched as something jumped inside. She closed the door.
Meg then opened the front passenger door and repeated the process, nervously looking about. That done, she finally went back around the car to occupy the driver’s seat. “Everypony settled in?”
“Yep,” came Steve’s voice from the front passenger’s seat.
“Yes,” came Twilight’s voice from the back seat behind Steve.
Meg started the car and began driving to the exit. She would have to be extra careful. Even if seatbelts would work for ponies, which was iffy at best, the sight of seatbelts around an invisible object might draw too much attention.
As she turned onto the road, it felt like she was being intensively observed by a certain pony, and soon her suspicions were confirmed. “I’ve never been in a car before,” Twilight said. “It’s fascinating how you use your hands and your feet to operate it.” Fortunately, Steve was there to answer her unending questions about driving, letting Meg focus on the actual task, so she didn’t have to answer questions about how the car moves, or how traffic lights work, or the GPS nav system, or countless other questions.
They drove away from the apartment, looking for that “shell” from which the electromagnetic radiation was being emitted. Theoretically, Steve would be able to detect the phase change that occurred in the magical field at that point, by using his special talent, but Twilight had various devices with her as well. Somehow, she was able to keep an eye on them while indulging her curiosity about cars and driving.
After only a few minutes, Steve said, “I think we just passed it—it’s hard to tell, being in this magic bubble.”
A few seconds later, Twilight confirmed it. “Yep, I’m reading a sharp drop in field strength.” In the rear view mirror, Meg could see the working end of the probe suspended in midair—not enveloped in lavender, as it was outside Twilight’s bubble.
“Okay, I’ll turn around.” At the next opportunity, she made a u-turn, then pulled into the parking lot of one of the endless series of strip malls lining the road. “Let me know when we cross it again,” she said, as she slowly traversed the lot.
“There!” Steve said, causing Meg to hit the brakes. She picked out a parking spot that should have the shell more or less cutting down the middle of the car, from front to back. A few seconds later, he confirmed it. “We’re good.”
Meg worked the nav system. “I’d say we’re about seven miles from home as the pegasus flies.”
They spent the next half-hour there, as Twilight gathered data. It wasn’t easy; her devices had to go outside her bubble to gather useful data. Both of the ponies had shrunk their bubbles to the minimum. Going outside the car was problematic, as the stores were still open and there was activity around them. Mysterious devices might draw attention, especially if they disappeared and reappeared elsewhere.
“Okay, I think we’re done,” Twilight finally said, “and as I suspected, the shell is slowly expanding as the hole gets bigger, letting more magic flow through.”
Meg started the engine and began driving home. There was no reason for the two ponies to remain—they’d have to return to Equestria before proximity to the doll made them visible anyway—but Twilight wanted to experience some more driving, and Meg indulged her by taking a different and longer route back. She took advantage of the extra time, as night fell, by reporting her encounter with Agent Fowler.