The view from the loft was nothing spectacular, an orchard of apple trees and a couple of fields. Quaint, but hardly breathtaking. With the right company however, it was still an enjoyable sight.
Applebloom had gone up here thinking it was a nice quiet place to hide after the mess she made in the kitchen. With a little luck, she'd miss the worst part of Granny Smith's anger and only get a minor scolding. However, it turned out that the loft wasn't as empty as she first thought. An earthbound Pegasus was perched on top of a few bales of hay, looking wistful.
“Oh, hi Rainbowshine,” Applebloom said. “What are you doin' up here.
“Oh, just gatherin’ my thoughts, she said. “And how about you?”
“About the same,” Applebloom replied innocently.
The Apple family had recently warmed up more to the idea of hiring farmhoofs to help out with the harvest, and Rainbowshine was one of them. This didn't use to be the case. Normally, the Apple Family was proud of their capability of running the farm all by themselves. But after Applejack's friends had to step in several times to help out, it became obvious that they were understaffed and that a few extra hooves helping out wouldn't be entirely unwelcome.
Applebloom sat down next to Rainboweshine in the corner of the loft where they could both look out of the window. It was an overcast day, with a chilly wind playing through the trees. Had it not been for the slight rustling of the leaf, the view could be replaced by a photograph. They were both quiet for a moment, looking at the blank scenery. Then Applebloom dared to speak.
“Say, “ she began carefully. “I don't think you've told me what happened to your wings.” Rainbowshine sighed.
“I suppose you'd like me to tell you,” she said.
“Only if it's a good story.”
Rainbowshine considered this for a second. It was a story alright, but she wasn't sure how much she should reveal.
“Well... she began,” back in Cloudsdale. “I used to work in the weather factory. I made snowflakes, it's as boring as it sounds, after a while you get quite tired of the cold. Anyway, we where supposed to create a tornado to funnel rainwater up to the factory. But something happened, the tornado dissolved and I was hurled right into the giant fan.”
“And that's all that happened? Really?” Applebloom asked. “I thought there would be more of a story to it.”
Rainbowshine hesitated, but her past bubbled up inside her, unable to stop.
“No, not really,” she said. “It wasn't the fan who did this, somepony took my wings, had them destroyed while I was out. Because...” she struggled to explain so Applebloom would understand.
“He was planning something bad in Cloudsdale, and I had something that could potentially reveal his plan. So she wanted to make sure I could never get back to Cloudsdale, she explained.”
“Oh my stars, Applebloom exclaimed. “What happened to him?”
“He's dead,” she said bluntly.
“why?”
Rainbowshine fell silent. She smiled this wretchedly friendly smile at Applebloom, the sort of smile Applebloom recognized as something grown ups only did when they wanted to avoid talking about something they thought she was too small or too innocent to know about.
“All right then” Applebloom said, ignoring the silence.
Dear Princess Celestia
I just wanted to thank you for this generous gift, as you can see, I m currently using it. This “Typing Machine” is a bit tricky to use so I m boundd to make some errors, apologies in advance. Like you, I am exzcited for the World's Fair in Manehattan, and I gladly accept the invitation to join you at the fair as royal guests.s
As for your worries, I don t share them. While it's true that technology can have a broader cultural impact, I do not fear a social upheaval. Yws, some of these new advancements are going to make Earth Ponies more capable, but not to the point where it s genuinely a threat to our social srtructure.
I have seen some of those sketches you've mentioned, blueprints to mechanical “war-machines”, and they strike me as nothing but a pipe-dream, pulp-fantasy fiction in the guise of scientific speculation, I don t put too much stock in them. I apprechiate that you're ever vigilant,however, and whatever decision yuo make, I will support it.
P.S, I have dabbled with technology a few times myself, and I may bring some of my own humble contraptions, if you d allow me.e
Twilight looked at the letter in front of her and the spelling errors stung her eyes. She was about to freak out over them, but her stomach distracted her. It felt uncomfortably empty. With a burst of magic, she fetched a stale sandwich from the kitchen and forced it down.
Thankfully, I don't have to worry about feeding Spike, she thought to herself, he can quite literary live on dirt. She was just about ready to try eating dirt herself, but she ignored the remaining hunger.
Should I mention the food shortage in the letter? She thought. She weighted the options. The princess would surely send enough food for her and her friends, but what about the other ponies? They were starving too and this famine wasn’t isolated to Ponyville. According to the Equestrian Inquirer, there was a food shortage all across the land.
It would simply be too much to ask for Celestia to provide supplies and impossible for Celestia to do without getting into political hot water. If Ponyville got subsidized, how long before the other villages demanded the same?
No, Celestia was most likely well aware of her predicament, she was just diplomatic enough not to mention it. It was times like these that it became very obvious that the princess weren't just a regular pony with a title. She didn't react to these situations the way a mortal pony would, she had a very different perspective.
Twilight turned her mind back towards more important matters: correcting spelling errors. Looking through the document again, she found TWICE as many errors as before. A nerve at the top of her left eye started to twitch involuntarily.
With the typewriter, she had gotten a small bottle of white paint and a strange tiny brush. She had no idea how to use it, but decided to try anyway. Carefully, she levitated the brush up and put it against the paper. Then her door burst open and an army of frightened rodents swarmed into the room. She lost control of her magic and the brush swept merrily across the paper, guided only by the random flux of background magic. Soon after, Fluttershy came running through the door, shouting desperately after them.
“Calm down, little ratties!” she yelled. “Please calm down!”
“What the hay is going on?” Twilight exclaimed and jumped up onto a table to escape a frightful armada of rats. “Fluttershy!Can you please tell me what's going on here?” Some confused mice were starting to invade her research notes and she hurriedly removed the critters from it with her magic.
“It's Applejack, “ Fluttershy explained. “They are testing out some... contraption down at the farm.”
Trying to protect the notes was becoming futile, she removed one rodent and ten more swarmed around them. Maybe she was mistaken, but her hears picked up what sounded unnervingly like a nibbling sound.
“No,” she mouthed. “I need my notes!”
“Enough!” The rats froze up and looked towards Fluttershy who gazed back onto them. Her eyes had a spark in them like ten lighting strikes at once and her voice boomed like thunder, or as close as her frail vocal chords could manage.
“You will get down from the table, stop bothering Twilight and CALM DOWN. I promise we will take care of this if you just behave, is that clear?”
The rats nodded hastily and scurried down on the table. The armada of rats gathered itself and marched obediently out of the door.
“Wow,” was all Twilight could utter.
From a distance, Twilight could already see that something was wrong. A thick black cloud of smoke was billowing up from one of the fields behind the barn, too thin to come from a fire. As they got closer, Twilight could feel the ground tremble slightly in short bursts.
They found Applejack cursing and kicking a large, crudely built machine with wheels the height of a tall stallion. After each kick, a cloud of smoke puffed out from somewhere inside it.
“Applejack!” Twilight said. “What the hay is that thing?”
Applejack stopped abusing the engine and turned to Twilight.
“This 'ere contraption is called a 'tractor',” she said with a somewhat smug tone, cleaning engine grease out of her mane. “We got it from our second cousin, Apple Ale.
“He's not allowed to have it anymore, since he drove it through the Mane Street of Appleoosa, high as a kite, tryin' to race down a carriage. Somethin' about a bet and alcohol, it didn't end well from what I heard.”
“I thought you didn’t like using modern technology to harvest,” Twilight said.
“We don't,” Applejack said and gave Twilight a look filled with daggers. “But in case you haven't noticed, there's a drought goin' on right now. We're having trouble growing enough food for Ponyville, not to mention ourselves. If it means we won't have to starve, I'll be harvestin' with dark magic if that's what's needed.”
“But you're not a unicorn!” Twilight said, instinctively analyzing this statement. “Also, there's no dark magic spells for farming, well, not for farming anything you could EAT anyway...”
“Ahem,” Fluttershy said from somewhere in the background. Applejack groaned as she addressed her.
“What is it now?” she asked.
“Your 'tractor' disturbs the animals,” she said. “The poor dears don't know what to think, and the smoke is making them cough!”
A couple of rats and mice had already noticed Fluttershy and was hiding behind her hooves. One of them coughed theatrically at this statement, but he quickly went back behind Fltutershy when he noticed Applejack's cold stare.
“Oh don't you try to trick me with that fake coughing!” she said. “This 'ere machine is perfectly safe, its only water vapor and coal-”
She was interrupted by a thunderous cough from the other side of the barn as Big Macintosh sneezed up a storm.
“How about Big Mac?” Fluttershy said. “Does HE fake his cough?” There wasn't a hint of smugness in her voice, but there would have been, had it been coming from any other pony.
“Oh, don't you start miss,” Applejack said. “Big Macinotsh has had that cough for a week now, ain't that right Big Mac?”
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh said. With her point made, Applejack's attention shifted back to the machine, but it was still a hopeless cause.
“Say, Twilight...” she said. “couldn’t you use your fancy magic to repair this here contraption? it ain’t workin' like it should.”
“I'm sorry,” Twilight said. “I can't. Magic work in broad strokes and machines are complex and delicate, its like asking me to crack an egg with a sledgehammer.”
“Well, ain't that something,” Applejack said smugly as she attacked the chassis once again. “Unicorns may be better building these wretched gizmos, but it takes an earth pony to handle them, ain’t that right, big Mac?”
“Eee-cough-yup,” Big Macintosh said.
Twilight looked at the tractor, still broken and with several new dents lining the chassis. If this is how Earth Ponies “handle” machinery, it's a wonder that anything works around here, she thought to herself, but she was too diplomatic to say anything.
“Pinkie Pie is surprisingly good with machinery,” she suggested instead. “She started to learn a while back by taking apart toys.”
“Well, but this thing 'ere is not a toy!” Applejack said. “Ya really think Pinkie could handle it?”
Twilight smiled. “I saw a flying machine she made a while back, she said. “It was eccentric, to say the least, but it worked wonderfully, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Well, I ain't lettin' her anywhere near my second cousins baby!” Applejack said. “She needs loving and tender care.” She gave the chassis another strong kick.
“Could she plausibly make it worse?” Twilight asked. The lid over the engine fell down onto the grass with a disheartening “thump”.
Applejack studied the dented lid on the ground while she reconsidered. “I guess you're right,” she said. “I'll talk to her next time she comes around.”
A few straws of hay fell down on Twilight and when she looked up in confusion she saw a young mare sticking her head out from inside the loft.
“What's goin' on on down there?” the filly asked.
“Rainbowshine! Twilight exclaimed. She was about to ask her what the she was doing up there, but a realization struck her. “Could you repeat that?” she asked.
“Ah said, what's goin' on?” Rainbowshine said and Twilight looked very amused.
“You're starting to sound just like the Apple family,” Twilight shouted. “Could you come down here so we could talk like normal ponies.”
“Sure,” Rainbowshine said and Twilight suddenly noticed how she was starting to lean through the window, ready to jump.
“No, don't...” she began but Rainbowshine had already landed in a cloud of dust before she could finish.
“Ever heard of using the stairs?” Twilight asked sarcastically as Rainbowshine shook off the sand and hay.
“Yes!” Rainbowshine said. “How else did you think I got up there in the first place.”
She flapped her ruined wings demonstratively. It was easy to forget that she, after all, was a Pegasus, albeit one that gravity had held a firm grip on for a number of years.
“Anyway,” Rainbowshine continued. “Like I said, what's goin' on down there?”
“This here machine won't start,” Applejack explained. “Doesn't matter what I do, it's dead as a doornail.”
“Can't Twilight fix it?” she asked. “She's pretty good with this science-stuff.”
“This is a very different thing from what I do,” Twilight explained. “I build machines, sure, but they are powered by magic. They don't actually ‘work’ in the sense that each cog and wheel connect and manipulate the mechanical forces to accomplish a task. My machines work because a part of me rests in it and TELLS it to work.”
She thought about this for a bit and turned to Applejack.
“I guess I could modify it to run on magic if you want to,” she said. Applejack looked mortally offended.
“Oh hay no!” she shouted. “I guess I can accept machines if we have to, but I aint lettin' no magitek run wild on my farm. At least real machines work properly, with raw power and grease not like... however magic works.”
“but didn't you say-” Twilight began to remind her.
“I was being whatchamacallit, hyperbolic!” she exclaimed. “No, we're gonna get this dang thing to start if I have to die to do it!
“well, kicking it isn't going to fix things,” Twilgiht reminded her.
“Oh yeah?” maybe I just didn't kick hard enough.”
Before Applejack could completely ruin the tractor, Twilight wen to fetch Pinkie Pie. Last year she had moved away from the Cakes to start her own business.
Nopony thought she could manage, but Pinkie seemed to have a special providence guiding her. She had simply set up shop in an abandoned building and she spent her free time renovating it. Each and every corner of her new home got the “Pinkie treatment”, with bright colors in often clashing combinations gracing the walls and support structures that didn't quite make sense in the world most ponies could agree they live in.
The building had the unmistakeable air of an establishment that was one thing on the surface, but another thing deep down. The sign on the front advertised it as a toy and prank shop, but in reality it was more of an alchemist's lab.
When Twilight reached the door, she noticed to her confusion that it didn't have a handle on the outside. Instead there was a lever next to the door and a note that told visitors to pull it. She did so, and heard a variety of cranking and clunking sounds from inside.
Through the glass she could see a small tin-pony being lowered down to the floor. Sun behind her created an annoying glare in the window which made it difficult to see what was going on, but judging by what glimpses she could catch and by the sound, the robot was making its way to the door, slowly and methodically, one hoof in front of the other. Then it reached up for the inside handle and promptly fell apart.
Twilight was still standing by the door, snout pressed close to see what was going on. From behind the dust, she could see Pinkie Pie, looking like a pink storm cloud appearing to sweep the pieces up. Her voice was muffled by the door, but Twilight suspected loud curse words.
Twilight knocked on the glass a couple of times until the crazed toymaker inside could notice her. Pinkie looked up from the broken robot parts and let her in.
“I just don't know what went wrong!” she started ranting while Twilight entered the shop. “It all worked so well on paper.”
she pointed with her hoof towards an exact 1:1 replica of the robot made entirely out of papercraft. Twilight felt as tough she's stepped out of reality and into some kind of bizarre dream-world, a common feeling around Pinkie Pie.
“THAT'S your blueprint?” Twilight asked.
“Yes, of course it is. “Pinkie Pie said. “How else would I do it?”
“Maybe... draw on the paper?” Twilight suggested.
“That wouldn't work, silly!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “My inventions aren't two-dimensional. Anyway, what can I do for you? We got buzzers, invisible ink, reappearing ink, springs in a jar...”
“It's just that Applejack needs some help on the farm,” Twilight explained. They have just gotten a tractor...”
Pinkie Pie's eyes grew to twice their size and her pupils widened even further.
“Oooh! she said.” They have a TRACTOR, and AJ's letting ME play with it?”
“Well, if you can repair it...”
“Well, OF COURSE I can repair it, “Pinkie Pie said. “its a tractor, I can do it in my sleep. I can't believe it! A tractor in Ponyville!” She smiled gleefully as she collected her tools and put them in a saddle back.
Twilight led the way towards the farm and Pinkie Pie skipped happily along afterward. When she saw the tractor from a distance, she rushed up to it. Applejack was mighty confused when Pinkie Pie stared at the machine with adoring eyes.
“It's a Fairgun 1899!” she cooed while examining it. “4 cylinder turbo with intercooler, oooh, and it's a jet-stream design!”
She stroked the chassis tenderly as she talked and her gaze was partly admiring, partly analytical when she tried to determine exactly what was wrong with the broken farming machine.
“Is that... good?” Applejack asked.
“Well... no,” Pinkie Pie answered bluntly. “The engine has a mean temper, especially in the mornings. Sometimes, it's like it has a mind of its own, it can be very stubborn and uncooperative. But it's such a workhorse! This baby can last a lifetime without even slowing down, isn't it great?”
“Well, it sounds just like a member o' the Apple family, at least,” Applejack remarked.
“Eeyup,” Big Macintosh filled in.
“But enough talking, let's get down to business!” Pinkie Pie said once she finished her analysis. She dove into the machinery and caused a cacophony of sounds.
Every now and then she'd reemerge and fetch something out of of her saddle back. She loudly announced the next tool every time.
“Gears!”
“More gears!”
“Party rattler!”
“Left-hinged framwinkle!”
“Pickaxe!”
When she returned from inside the engine, she was covered in oil and sweat, but she had an accomplished smile beaming through the grease. She shook the oil off like a dog, then picked up the hatch from the ground and put it in place.
“There!” she said. “Now it should be as good as new. Also, I took the liberty of making a few improvements if that's all right. Tractors are great and all, but they are so grave and serious....”
Panic was boiling in Applejack's eyes. Somehow, she managed to grab a hold of Pinkie Pie with her hooves and she shook her madly back and forth like a ragdoll.
“What did you do to it?!” Applejack shouted, gazing into Pinkie Pie's soul. Pinkie Pie entangled herself from the rude embrace .
“Oh, I just made it lighten up a little, it's no biggie!” she replied with a reassuring smile.
“We'll see about that, Big Mac! Fire her up!”
“Eeyup!”
Big Macintosh climbed on board and as he pulled a large lever, the machine twitched and came to life. First it emitted a puff of smoke, this time with a healthy white color, then the engine started up with a rough rising growl.
So far so good, but then it made a sound like air being let out of a balloon and the motor kicked into gear with a polka-like collection of funny noises.
Party horns, kazoos and rattles could be heard from inside the once proud machine. Big Macintosh simply stared at the machine in bewilderment. Applejack shook her head.
“What do you think?” Pinkie Pie said with pride in her voice. “Doesn't it sound much better now?”
Applejack buried her head in her hooves, but there were no arguing with Pinkie Pie, and at least the tractor was working.
“It can sound like the rear end of a mangled cat for all I care!” Applejack exclaimed. “As long as it gets the work done.”
“I'm glad I could help!” Pinkie Pie said and disappeared.
The tractor kept plowing through the field, disturbing bunnies and rats as it went. Fluttershy did her best to try and herd them together, but not even her soft voice could calm them. Applejack wasn't sure, but for a moment there she could've sworn Fluttershy shot her a look filled with contempt. But if she did, she was back to her old self within a blink.
As this was going on, Rainbowshine went up to Twilight.
“Speaking of contraptions,” she said. “How's your... project going?”
Twilight looked around. The odd honks and horns from the tractor had awoken Granny Smith and Applejack was busy tending to the old mare. Nopony seemed to pay attention to her and Rainbowshine.
“Follow me,” she said. “But look casual.”
They both went to the library, careful to look as if they just happened to be two ponies going in the same direction. Twilight had to remind herself to slow her trot down, her excitement was almost taking over. He had the same kind of nervous energy as an artist preparing for her first big show. Even tough she tried to keep an even phase, she arrived at the library first and had to wait a few minutes for Rainbowshine to catch up.
“What took you so long?” Twilight asked her as she appeared in the door frame.
Rainbowshine spat the brochure she was carrying onto the floor.
“I was cornered by a pony in the town square,” she explained. “And he gave me this.”
Twilight looked at the paper on the ground. The brochure was made out of a yellowed wooden pulp, as opposed to the more traditional parchment Twilight was still using. The wild choices of typeface and the crude placement of the letters suggested. Her eyes scanned the content and it made her pride disappear somewhat.
“one of those anti-magitek ponies, huh?” Twilight remarked.
“Yes,” Rainbowshine replied. “I don't see what the big deal is, ah mean, unicorns have enchanted tools ever since there's been tools to enchant, haven't they? So why is it suddenly a problem now?”
Twilight sighed from deep within.
“There's... a lot of confusion,” she replied. “When those ponies talk about magitek, they only have a vague idea what they are talking about. For them, it's any type of technology that frightens them.” She closed the door behind them ad started talking in a slightly lower voice.
“Real magitek doesn't exist, or rather, it's a hypothetical state where technology and magic work together to the point where the line between them is blurred. Some machines come closer to this than others, but so far, none has reached that state yet.”
“To be perfectly frank,” Twilight concluded. “That's something even highly educated ponies worry about, since it is something entirely new. We don't know what its boudnaries are, or indeed, if it even HAVE boundaries.” Her voice was calm and collected, but Rainbowshine noticed how a pencil on the table next to them started to rotate. Twilight was fiddling nervously with it using her magic.
“Is this something that bothers you?” Rainbowshine asked.
“Well... you sometimes conceal your wings, right?” Twilight said.
“Yes,” Raibowshine said. “Applejack keeps telling me not to, but I don't like how they make other ponies stare at me.”
“Have you ever overheard somepony making an off-color remark about pegasi, not realizing you where one?”
“Yes.”
“That's a bit like how I feel whenever ponies talk about the evils of magitek, and you'll soon understand why.”
Twilight went up to one of the bookshelves and tapped an Innocent-looking book. A clicking sound was heard, and a segment of the bookshelf flew open like a vault.
She took out the object inside and placed it on the ground. It was a brass harness, roughly the size of a rucksack. On top of it, it had a bifurcated guard decorated by jewels. Using her hooves, Twilight separated it to show the interior.
The guard slipped open and a pair of mechanical wings spread themselves out from underneath it. They had the same skeletal structure as that of a bird's but were otherwise insectoid in nature; rods of brass interrupting a pattern of thin jewel scales, arranged forming a rough mosaic resembling the pattern of a monarch butterfly. A system of tubes lined each side like muscles.
Outwardly, this was very different from the utilitarian design found in the Apple family's new tractor, with seemingly unnecessary flourishes of design and a fractured pattern of runes and knots covering every avaiable surface.
From an engineering standpoint, however, they were one and the same. It was, just like the the Fairgun 1899, a collection of cheap, barely functional parts made to fulfill the minimum requirement for its intended purpose and not much else. But while the tractor engine was made according to the constraints set by physics, this contraption was made according to the much more elusive constraints of magic.
Rainbowshine looked at the device with stars in her eyes. Simply seeing the device made a few nerves awaken in her unusable wings. There was just something about the smooth curves and the light, fragile design that reminded her of the sky.
“Is this magitek?” she asked.
“As close as you're likely to get with no formal training and limited tools,” Twilight replied.
“It's beautiful.”
“Thanks, I'm flattered, but this is just a crude prototype,” Twilight said and fiddled with the adjustments on the device a bit. “I admit, I thought I'd just need to make a pair of wings and then slap some magic on them, but then I did the math.”
A parchment flew towards them, guided by Twilight's magic. She held it up in front of her and let a soft glow highlight the numbers as she spoke.
“Consider this, imagine a brick. To support it in flight, let's say it needs wings the size of two dinner plates each to fly. Make that brick twice the size, and it's weight increases eightfold. In now requires wings four times longer and twice as wide.
“Double it in size again, so the flying brick is now only 8x8 bricks in size, but now it requires wings of 32x8 dinner plates long. Now imagine that the brick is the size and weight of a pony- it's wings would need to be the length of a street!
“And Magic doesn't fare much better," Twilight said, engrossed in her lecture as the parchment rolled itself back and flew to the desk. "Like I said, magic works in broad strokes, and the kind of bird-like wings a Pegasus have is just too complex. The best that magic can muster is a fragile pair of butterfly wings that really isn't worth the effort...” She continued the lecture while she strapped the harness onto Rainbowshine.
“Pegasus wings has its own powers,” Twilight concluded. “Powers that can't be duplicated by either magic or science, but perhaps it can with a combination of the two.” She fiddled with some of the more obtuse parts of the harness, trying to adjust it to her friend's build.
“Now, let's hook up the master-slave system and... there, how do they feel?” Twilight asked.
Rainbowshine wiggled her ruined stumps and the mechanical wings started to move. She felt a tinge of excitement has the air underneath it got shuffled about like under a fan.
The wings ratcheted and clanked, hissed and buzzed, and the controls weren't perfect. Maneuvering them felt a bit like swimming through syrup, but it still followed her movements well and almost instantly felt like a natural extension of herself.
“They work great!” she concluded. “But I don't see why you feel the need to keep this a secret. Like Spike said, it's pretty much just a wheelchair to Pegasi. Are you really that intimidated by the anti-magitek peonies?”
“No!” Twilight said, a bit unconvincingly forceful. “I'll explain later, but right now I just feel more comfortable having this be a secret, at least until the World's fair, alright?”
“Sure, whatever,” Rainbowshine said. “Don't wanna ruin the surprise I guess.”