//------------------------------// // But If You Are In Here, How Are We Moving? // Story: Aim For The Moon // by CalmAndInsane //------------------------------// “Explain this plan of yours to Us again,” I requested.         Jonathan Smith let out a sigh before taking a deep breath, “The plan is to fly your ship to our base. While that is happening, my team and I will drive you all to our base.”         “By ‘your ship’ do you mean the platform?” I asked glancing down at the wood flooring of our platform. Jonathan nodded, “And how do you propose to do that? Without power our levitation field will not work and it is most certainly too heavy for anypony to lift.”         “We won’t be carrying it. We might not have faster than light travel, but we are advanced enough to accomplish heavier-than-air flight,” for some reason Jonathan glared at me as though I had offended him. I raised an eyebrow. Heavier-than-air flight was extremely basic, pegasi proved that everyday. And what did he mean by ‘faster than light travel’? At a little over 11,000,000 lengths per second, nothing moves faster than light. Well, except teleportation, but that may or may not be ‘actual’ movement. See, there is an age old question about whether teleportation is movement or not. Even with the increase in precision of timing implements, scientists still are unable to determine the amount of time that it takes to teleport from point A to point B. Several ponies say that, as time always averages out to be statistically insignificant from zero, time must be zero. And as time is zero, and speed is a measure of distance over time, you have no speed when you teleport, thus you’re not technically exceeding the speed of light. Other ponies say that we just don’t have sufficiently precise instruments yet. Long ago I learned to avoid the topic as no solid proof can be put forth either way.         Jonathan Smith suddenly tensed up before hesitantly asking, “Can you breathe our atmosphere?”          I took a deep breath and held it for a second before exhaling. When Jonathan Smith’s look of anticipation did not disappear from my demonstration, I answered him, “Your planet’s atmosphere is perfectly breathable.”         “Phew. For a second I was concerned we would have to bring in some crazy gear so that you all could breath during the ride,” Jonathan Smith let out a relieved chuckle.         “Yes, that would have been… bad,” I was seeing Jonathan Smith in a new light after his dream, and I was not quite sure how to proceed, “We are sure you have preparations for the trip to work on. We will inform Our crew of the plan.”         “Sounds good,” Jonathan Smith nodded. I turned and walked to the middle of the platform where the others were still sleeping. After glancing back to make sure Jonathan Smith was indeed walking away, I awoke my comrades.         “Quick Wit, Double Take, awaken,” I commanded, “Hard Stuff, stop pretending to be asleep.”         “Oh come on! I was doing such a good job too.” Hard Stuff grumbled.         “Next time, do not try to fool the Princess of Dreams,” I grinned at his antics.         “Morning already?” Double Take yawned.         “In a sense,” I told him, “Soon we are to leave for a more comfortable location, or so I’ve been told. We shall get ready for our departure.”         “Sounds good, let me just pack all this stuff I brought,” Quick Wit rubbed some sleep from her eyes before blinking twice, “Oh look, I’m done.”         “Very well then,” I nodded, “Let us be off.”         I hopped down onto the ground of the planet for the first time. It truly was eerie how one could forget they were not still on Equestria. The soil under my hooves felt the same, gravity held the same pull, the chirping of birds and the rustling of the wind was no different. When I focused on the air however, I did notice that something was off about it. It was somehow heavier, almost like after one had brushed a layer of dust off an old object, but even that did not seem right; as at the same time the air felt empty. I was unable to figure out what, if anything, was missing or added.         The others followed my lead. Hard Stuff and Quick Wit used one of the levitation buffers as a step down. Double Take jumped off the platform but failed to achieve flight. After hitting the ground Double Take made a ‘you didn’t see that’ face and proceeded to walk. Together the four of us climbed the hill over which Jonathan Smith and his crew presumably awaited. I must admit, when we crested the hill the sight was underwhelming. Our four hosts were stuffing the last of what must have been their camp into black boxes. I briefly wondered why they seemed to love the color black so much.  Behind them and off to the right was an odd building. The architectural style was unlike anything from Equestria. The walls loosely resembled those of a wooden cabin, save the planks were white and the bottom of each plastic looking plank overlapped the top of the one blow it. The reddish-gray roof was tiled with what looked like extremely thick sandpaper. The windows and door looked normal enough, considering that like the rest of the house they had been scaled up to allow for comfortable habitation by the natives.         Next to the house on a gravel path were two things best described as metal carriages. Both had four wheels and an enclosed cabin for the passengers. The one closest to the house was red with two chairs inside with a wagon bed protruding to form the back two thirds. The other had two front seats, but the rest of it was enclosed by black metal. The rear of the second carriage was swung open by Thomas Franklin. They four natives then proceed to load all of the boxes in to the back.         “Are we all ready to go?” asked Jonathan Smith, turning to face my team.         “We are,” I nodded.         “Great,” Jonathan Smith smiled, “Russ, you drive. Tom, you get shotgun.”         With that command, Rusty Bell and Thomas Franklin climbed in through the front doors. Jonathan Smith gestured for us to enter the back of the carriage. Inside the back of the carriage was surprisingly cramped for how big it looked. This was due to all of the black boxes stacked on shelves along the left wall. The other wall had four seats backed up against it. I hopped into the furthest seat. I fit surprisingly well in it for something made for another species. We did not leave any of the four seats for our hosts as we assumed they would be pulling the carriage, but when they stepped inside and closed the door I made to stand.         “You should sit,” Jonathan Smith held up a hand with his palm facing towards me. Then he grabbed hold of the shelf, “Without hands it’s kind of hard to hold onto things.”         “Wait. If we’re all in here, who’s going to pull the carriage?” Double Take asked.         “Pull the carriage?” Jessica Miller asked.         Suddenly there was a continuous roar from the front of the carriage. I instinctively flared my wings and charged my horn. Nothing seemed to have changed though, save all of the natives giving me concerned looks.         “Have you guys never heard an engine before?” Rusty Bell asked.         “That was an engine!?” Quick Wit asked in disbelief. I was having similar thoughts myself.         “I’ve never heard trains make this much noise outside of breaking,” Hard Stuff stated. I nodded in agreement.         “Wait, train? As in, a steam engine?” Rusty Bell asked, “This is a combustion engine.”         “Combustion…?” Double Take asked.         “You mean the engine is exploding!?” Quick Wit yelled jumping off her seat and making for the door.         “NO! Of course not! The engine isn’t exploding. A combustion engine is powered by explosions, like a steam engine is powered by steam,” Rusty Bell explained.         “Is that what is creating the growling noise?” I asked.         “Interesting way to describe it,” Rusty Bell nodded, “And yes, the rumbling is caused by the controlled explosions.”         As I pondered how such a system might work, my balance shifted, indicating the carriage had begun moving.         “Would it not be simpler to power such a system with magic?” I asked, thinking of the rare self propelled carriages from back home.         I was practically thrown from my seat as the carriage ground to a halt. Quick Wit, in fact, was thrown from her seat into me, and Double Take had grabbed Hard Stuff in an embrace to remain on his seat. All of the others were staring at me.         “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of us or you’re serious,” Thomas Franklin stated.         “You all have the capacity to melt quartz, surely you can power an engine with less energy than that,” I stated. A silence descended upon us, broken only by the growling of the engine.         Rusty Bell finally broke the silence, “You know, this supports my theory that a third party of aliens modified our languages as a cosmic joke.”         “I still say that sounds ridiculous,” Jessica Miller rolled her eyes.         “And I say that the eldritch god of chaos, The Ittever, decided that there was not enough randomness in our worlds. Thus he modified our languages, instated quantum mechanics, and invented windchimes, Legos, and Youtube comments. All hail the Ittever!” declared Thomas Franklin, throwing his hands into the air.         For a brief second I feared that Thomas Franklin was serious.         “Okay then… Third party aliens it is,” Jessica Miller cautiously announced.         “Why? What’s wrong with magic” Quick Wit asked.         “Oh, nothing. Ya know, besides the fact that it doesn’t exist,” Jessica explained, “So obviously our definition of ‘magic’ and your definition of ‘magic’ are two separate things.”         “So magic is not the use of will to shape energies into selected actions?” I asked.         “Nooooo,” Jonathan Smith stated, “Magic is something from fairy tales that children believe in.”         “Are you telling me you all have never discovered magic?” Quick Wit asked.         “If it was there to discover we would have. But as things are, it’s not there to be discovered,” Jessica Miller stated.         “Are you trying to claim that magic doesn’t exist!” Quick Wit yelled, “You saw Princess Luna pick up a tape measure with her levitation!”         “Yes, yes we get it,” Jonathan Smith grumbled, his glare shifting over all of us, “‘Sufficiently advanced Technology is indistinguishable from magic,’ Arthur Clarke’s third law. This wasn’t funny to begin with, now stop it.”         “Perhaps more proof would convince you?” I mused, charging up my horn. I briefly considered lifting the carriage, but decided that if lifting one thing doesn’t convince them, lifting a bigger object would not change anything. Teleportation was out as I had no idea where it would be safe to teleport to.         “No,” Quick Wit stuck a hoof in front of my face before pointing at our hosts, “We don’t need to prove magic. You need to disprove it.”         “Most metal objects, such as the tape measure, can be lifted through magnetism. A mental link with a computer, such as your ships, would allow for seemingly spontaneous levitation,” Jessica Miller leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her body.         “Our ship’s battery oxidized, we have no power,” Double Take shot back.         “When compressed quartz generates electric currents,” Tomas Franklin countered.         “Why in Equestria would we use electricity to power the platform?” Quick Wit asked.         “What else would you use?” shouted Jessica Miller.         “Magic!” Quick Wit shot back.         “Magic doesn’t exist!” Jessica Miller yelled.         “HEY!” the deep voice of Hard Stuff boomed in the metal confines of the carriage, “I think I have a solution; we will keep thinking it’s magic, but not say anything, and you all will keep thinking it’s whatever you think it is and not say anything.”         “Only until we can examine your ship. Then we’ll see what powers it,” Jessica Miller declared.         A relative silence filled the carriage. I found myself examining all the instruments, or more specifically, their black cases.         “Why do you have such fascination with the color black?” I asked, “I have noticed a the trend and I can see no reason for it.”         “Everything’s black because…” Jonathan Smith started, “Well… Um, you see… I actually have no idea on this one.”         “It’s cheaper to produce things in one color rather than many, and as black and white go with everything, you wind up seeing them a lot,” Thomas Franklin explained.         Again we found ourselves in a conversational lull. I watched Rusty Bell steer the carriage down the deserted road.         “So what are you guys exactly? I mean, you look like the lower half of a minotaur with the top half of a centaur,” Double Take joked. I saw Quick Wit roll her eyes at Double Take’s attempt to insert a lighthearted feeling into his words.         “We call ourselves Humans. Though Earthlings works too,” Thomas Franklin cracked a smile at his words.         “Interesting observation there,” Jonathan Smith put a hand to his chin, “As centaurs and minotaurs are based of a human combined with the defining trait of another animal, it’s more accurate to say that they are half human.”         “Hold on a second,” Rusty Bell interjected, “You mean you guys have myths with minotaurs and centaurs too?”         “Of course, every race has myths they tell about themselves,” I nodded, “It is best not be believe their bragging though. Time distorts the truth as I was loathe to discover.”         “So you guys live on a planet with not only unicorns and pegasuses,” Jonathan Smith began a smile creeping onto his face.         “Pegasi,” Double Take interjected.         “Unicorns and Pegasi. But also Minotaurs and centaurs?” Jonathan Smith finished.         I nodded, “Yes, we also have griffins, deerfolk, zebras, buffalo, and yaks to name a few. Tell me, with what other creatures share your planet?”         “Haha! This is great!” Jonathan Smith broke into a fit of giggles.         “We have deer, zebras, buffalo, and yaks too, but griffins are just myths,” Thomas Franklin stated, “Or rather; here, griffins are just myths .”         “More fuel for my third alien hypothesis,” Rusty Bell proclaimed.         “Well I would very much still like to meet with those that are here if I may,” I was never one to turn down a chance for diplomacy, even if I did sometimes hope that it was a miserable failure.         “Sure, we can probably work it out for you to see some of them,” Jonathan Smith shrugged, “I doubt they’ll be much different than those back on your planet. That is, if Russ is correct.”         “Wonderful! I look forward to meeting with them,” I inwardly cheered. Perhaps this planet was not as outlandish as it appeared. Perhaps my initial assessment was right, perhaps this world was very much like Equestria. Save the humans that we now found ourselves traveling with. And then a thought struck me, the humans that we are relying upon. The same humans that now have control of our platform. After all, Jessica Miller stated that they too could use levitation. Could they not also have blinking? Though advanced technologically, our platform used those two spells for almost all of its major functions. Could the humans then reverse engineer our craft, like in Jonathan Smith’s dream? If relations sour, could they not invade while Equestria was still unaware of their very existence? We would need to tread carefully.         Perhaps… perhaps not arguing the point of magic's existence would be for the best.         “Russ what’s our ETA?” Jonathan Smith asked.         “About fifteen minutes,” Rusty Bell stated.         “Wonderful,” Jonathan Smith smiled. My mind immediately went back to his dream. And to the unfortunate events that had transpired there. A tingle ran down my spine and despite my best efforts to, I was sure that my wings shifted. We would need to tread very, very carefully.