6 - Inscape
Just
P
ns a
I c s
a s
ep i
n
Through
Sound blossomed in a place that was not a place. His mind ran among the timbre and flow of the noise, chasing syllables and intonation like a cat in pursuit of an elusive red dot on a freshly waxed floor. The aural thread was devious, meaning dancing on the tether of articulation and tone. More strands sprouted, warp and weft to the fabric of cognizance.
"What in tarnation?"
"Yeah, where are we? ... My wings!"
"eeep."
"Now calm down, dears, I'm sure there is a perfectly fine explanation for all of this."
"There had better be."
"Well, the spell was just supposed to allow the Princesses to go fishing for information, but if the creature had any energy from the Elements lingering in it, it's possible that the casting could have resonated with us as well. Ooooh, I really wish I could refer to Starswirl's Spellbinding Sympathetics, but in theory that could have drawn us along."
Babble erupted, threads bunching–
"If'n that's the case–"
"Twilight, you mean to say–"
"Then where the hay are–"
–severed, as the intangible firmament shook to a thunderous roar.
"WE APOLOGIZE FOR THIS INCONVENIENCE.” A pause. The throat cleared, continued. “Sorry. We have not performed this spell in such a manner for quite some time and we are a bit, how doth one say, 'rusty'."
“Princess Luna! Of course, none of us would dream of blaming you, Princess, we are just trying to understand why we are here, and why we look like… This?"
"I don't know, I kind of like it. Watch this! Wheeee…"
"Pinkie!"
"What? It's fun!"
"Verily, we are grateful for thy levity, but we ask that thou moderate thy exuberance. While no ill should befall us, 'tis better to avert trouble and not draw undue notice."
"What?"
Warm tones added new silken strands, weaving a fragile alignment.
"My sister means to say that we should act calmly to avoid stirring up problems."
“Oh, Princess Celestia! We’re so glad to see you here, too.”
“Indeed, this is a pleasant surprise; I didn't expect to speak to you all until later.”
“We're just as surprised to be here, Princess. Since we are, though, did the two of you learn what you had hoped to from the foals?”
“Indeed we did, Twilight, and I’m afraid that it has made the situation more complicated than ever. From our visit to their memories, it seems that events did not play out as we had believed. The creature did not abduct them by force, and they were the ones that led it away from the crash site. This is in addition to eyewitness accounts stating that the craft appeared to be caught in the weather factory's intake flow, and may not have been aiming for it.”
“Wait. So if they weren't abducted and it didn't hit the factory intentionally…”
“Indeed. Spitfire acted nobly under the circumstances, but she could only act based on what she saw, and her report and our interpretation of its actions may not have been correct.”
A snarl of discordant impulses frayed the growing weave, even as they set it in motion.
“What? So hitting the weather factory, wiping out Cloudsdale, foalnapping, knocking out Spitfire, fleeing the crash site… You're saying that all of these were just mistakes? What about the gigantic explosion!? I know firsthoof that weather magic doesn’t just blow up that easily.”
“Yeah, what about all them traps it set for us?”
“And the way it scared all those poor little bats?”
“Not to mention such wanton destruction of a fabulous coiffure.”
The silken tones spliced and rewove once more in a graceful counterpoise that delicately restored the tenuous order.
“Calm yourselves, my little ponies. It is true that we still have many unanswered questions, perhaps more than before. However, it is precisely because this creature is such an enigma, that we must be so careful assembling what information we find. Our understanding of it needs to be based on unbiased facts, or we will lead ourselves astray by giving it inapplicable attributes and motivations. If we are to avoid further missteps, we need to proceed carefully with an open mind, learn as much as we can, and avoid making hasty assumptions."
“Well, I reckon we can manage that.”
“I suppose it would be only proper for us to give it the benefit of the doubt.”
“See, it might not be such a meanie-pants after all! Maybe we could throw it a–” A sudden gasp. “Knee pinch, elbow itch, finger flick! Oooh. I wonder what it means!"
The weave twisted and knotted, tugging. Tension built, drew taut. A pattern emerged.
"We believe something is about to happen."
Happen? he thought, fuzzily, drifting lazily as the sounds slowly coalesced into form and meaning. This pillow was lumpy and uncomfortable, and he stirred fitfully. Who is that?
“Together, quickly. We need to plan.”
Plan? Loud, confusing. Pinkie! Crash, foals? Yes, plan. Plan about a, wait, what was it? Bats? No, it was a, a… Ele-what? There had been something… He had had it just now. A moment ago. Some talking of, about a… thing, teasingly familiar and important, but now it was all coming apart, drifting away like gossamer in the breeze as his eyes opened reluctantly.
Raised tiles swam into view, foreshortened and arranged in a regular array that ran off a short distance. Beyond them lay a flat brown expanse, against a backdrop of plain gray walls. The small squares ran towards and beneath him as well, to where he could feel them digging into his cheek.
Oh crap, I fell asleep at my keyboard? Sudden panic had him bolt upright and looking around frantically, the vestiges of sleep instantly flushed away, only to find that he was alone in his small office.
His head swam briefly, and his limbs felt leaden, but it was odd. I feel strangely good, he realized, energized and healthy. But wait, why would that be strange? It feels like I just had some kind of really weird dream. The niggling unease teased at him from the back of his mind, but the last shreds of recollection were gradually pushed away by the familiar confines of his office.
Stark fluorescent lights shone down on tile carpet, flimsy metal filing cabinets, and an old PC with a remarkably uncomfortable keyboard. Despite his best attempts at decorating with houseplants, personal photographs, and his favorite brand of swimsuit calendar, it was still a rather plain office. It does have one saving grace, though, he thought, smiling as he glanced out the window and took in the panoramic view of Geneva, the Alps rising majestically in the background. It looks really nice out there today; I wish I could go flying. Still, I’ve got work to do, despite whatever it was that upset my system, he thought with a mental sigh as he turned back to his PC.
The computer was annoyingly sluggish, and he ended up watching like a hawk for it to perform even the simplest tasks. Frigging cheap hardware, he groused, IT always seems to give us the worst of the lot. It's like they don't appreciate our work at all. Humph. Maybe I should pull up their file.
He entertained the thought for a few moments, before setting it aside with a sigh. No, I'm supposed to be looking at the utilities group. He browsed over to the fileserver and his brow furrowed when the data failed to load. 'Connection not found', it said, stubbornly presenting him with an empty folder. That's odd, he thought, before checking a few other files. The last couple of projects loaded just as he remembered them, but the same error inexplicably came up whenever he tried to access any new data.
The system is really acting up today, he thought, drumming his fingers on the desktop in frustration. I wonder if anyone else is having problems.
He picked up the phone and buzzed the secretary, waiting several rings until he finally heard the receiver pick up.
"Hello?" he called, when there was no immediate response. "Christina, are you there? It's me, Brian."
"Yes, Brian, thou art addressing Christina," she finally replied.
That’s… an odd way to answer, he thought, staring at the phone bemusedly for a few moments. "Umm, Christina? Are you okay? You sound a bit off."
"We thank thee for thy consideration, but there is no cause for concern. We are merely a little hoarse today," she replied, flatly. He could have sworn he heard a choked-off snigger in the background at her statement.
"That... wasn't quite what I meant. Did you pull another all-nighter playing WoW again? Not that it's really any of my business, but the boss kind of flipped out last time, and you're getting a bit too in character."
There was another brief pause before she came back. "We are grateful for thy advice, and shall be mindful of expressing our amazed exuberance henceforth."
Oookay, I knew she played on a RP server, but she's really getting into it. It's actually kind of impressive; if I didn't know better, I might actually fall for this 'medieval warrior' shtick. Of course, she still has to do her actual job...
"Riiight. How are you even getting online in the first place? The network seems to be on the fritz, and I was going to have you call IT."
"Have no concern, for our netting uses only the highest quality of line, and we were able to avoid such pitfalls. Be assured that we shall convey your request, but prior to that, a matter has come to our attention that you might address."
"A matter. Dare I inquire what manner of 'matter' this might be?" he asked. Am I to seek the grail?
"Indeed thou mayest. There is a group of visitors arriving shortly who desire a tour. We ask that you accommodate them."
"What?"
"Thou art to guide them amongst the various facilities here and explain their various functions, as well as thine own role. Do not be concerned or hold back in what thou showest them; they are quite trustworthy."
"No, I understood you the first time," he grumbled, "and it's not a matter of integrity – it just doesn't make any sense. They want a tour of CERN?"
"That is correct."
"And it's fallen to me to give it to them?" he stared at the phone in disbelief.
"Thou art the most logical choice."
"You're kidding, right? Isn't it PR's whole job to handle stuff like this?"
"Normally, yes, but they insisted, and, ah ‘PR’ approved it."
"They did?” he cocked his head, perplexed. Okay, so someone has enough pull to arrange a special tour, but for whatever reason they want to visit accounting? “That's still an odd choice. Do they want an explanation of grant writing or international funding or something?”
"We believe this may have been one of their interests, yes."
"Why not ask Fredrick? Grants are his area of expertise."
"He's celebrating his Grandsire’s birthday."
"Really?” He said, scratching his head as his confusion deepened. “Huh. I thought his folks had already died. What about Claire, then?"
"An urgent trip came up."
"James?"
"Pony pox."
… Okay, that’s it. Pony pox? Really? This has got to be some kind of elaborate prank that the guys are pulling. They even got Christina in on it, and she swore she’d never sink down to our level. I'd best play along with it until I figure out their game.
"Fine. I guess I can handle it. I assume they're in the lobby?"
"Indeed, they should be arriving forthwith. Simply meet them there, show them the premises, and answer any questions they may have to the best of thy knowledge."
"... Right."
He hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair and stared vacantly at the ceiling. That has to be one of the weirdest conversations I've had, and I have the sinking feeling that things aren't going to get any better. Unfortunately, I don't think waiting is going to help. He levered himself up with a sigh, and tromped down the hall.
Reaching Christina's desk, he was surprised to see that she had dyed her hair a sparkling midnight blue. Not that the color didn't suit her – the effect was actually appealingly exotic – rather, she had never shown the inclination to be so flashy before. She was presently looking away from him, which gave him an opportunity to take in the rest of the scene. The office pool seemed normal enough, albeit untidy; her desk had fashion magazines strewn all over it, but she was presently ignoring them to focus intently on her CD rack. He cleared his throat self-consciously, causing her to look up, startled.
"Christina, could you please hand me the forms and the visitor passes?" he asked, gesturing towards the appropriate drawer.
"Right! Of course they would need such a thing to tour a secure facility." She moved a little hesitantly at first, but opened the drawer and handed him the items in short order.
"Thanks, Christina. Anything else I should know about these visitors of ours?" he said, giving her his best nonchalant grin.
"No, they are a perfectly ordinary group of traveling scholars – nothing to be concerned about at all." she said, smiling in reply.
"Alright, that's... very reassuring." About as reassuring as leeches and holy water in a first-aid kit.
The lobby was a tribute to institutional mundania everywhere, with beige carpets, recessed lighting, and an overabundance of cheap tables and overstuffed chairs huddled together into aspiring 'conversation clusters'. Owing to CERN’s scientific role, it also had various models and educational displays scattered about. It was still unoccupied, so he wandered over to stare at one of the models.
A few minutes later, the double doors cracked open, and seven striking women entered. In the lead was a tall, regal lady with alabaster skin and warm, violet eyes that seemed to look right through him. A chaste, white sundress clung to her statuesque figure, swirling around her legs with each stride. Most unusual of all was her hair, an unearthly wash of pink, blue, and green that nevertheless managed to look perfectly natural as it fell down her back in long cascades. The six girls that trailed her were just as eye-catching, though all in different ways. They seemed a bit younger as well, perhaps college students, but the way they stared wide-eyed around the lobby reminded him more of a grade-school field trip than anything else.
None of them exemplified this trait more than the girl bobbing immediately in the wake of the leader like a duckling, all the while looking about her with naked curiosity in her wide, lavender eyes. She was pretty, in a bookish sort of way, with a plain white blouse and a long skirt that matched her eyes, both of which were set off by her midnight blue hair and the pinkish accents running through it. Wow, they really go for colored contacts and hair dye, he thought.
The girl walking next to her had certainly availed herself of it. Baby blue eyes regarded him mischievously, framed by exuberantly curly hair that was a downright blinding shade of neon pink. Her clothes were almost as pink, a whimsically frilly outfit that still let her move freely. She was certainly using it – always moving with an irrepressible bounce in her step and a grin that threatened to break free at any moment, though for now she held her peace.
Following along just behind the bundle of energy was a counterpoint of cool sophistication. The rich purple of her lustrous curls of hair may have been subdued compared to the others, but set against her flawless porcelain skin and deep blue eyes, she was breathtaking. The colors were further set off by the turquoise evening gown she wore, its satiny fabric clinging to her figure and accentuating her hips, before falling in long pleats to brush the floor. A sash at her waist glittered with gems, their deep purple echoing her hair and catching his eye as they sparkled with her every move. Wait, are those gemstones real? That’s one hell of an outfit to just stroll around in. At any rate, she certainly knows how to make an impression.
Hovering behind her was another pink-haired girl, but where the first was exuberant, this one was timid. Even her pink hair was understated, insomuch as pink hair could ever be called quiet, its pale pastel a shadow of her companion’s neon explosion. But though its color may have been subtler, its length was noteworthy; the gently curling locks nearly reached her waist, their elegant flow lending her a certain quiet grace. Her movements were more restrained as well, and he noticed she kept carefully to the others, her gaze dancing around the room furtively as if it might hide some fearsome surprise. When she glanced his way, he caught a brief glimpse of deep, teal eyes that tugged at his memory before she quickly looked away. The demure, pale yellow dress she wore furthered her meek impression, which made him wonder even more about her choice of hair color. She acts incredibly shy, but hair like that is always going to draw attention, and its color just can’t be natural. Is it a wig? Did she lose a bet? Or maybe dyed hair is a requirement to be in the group?
As if the universe was out to destroy any theory he tried to construct, the next one looked basically normal, if you discounted her outlandish getup. First came an evening dress, and now cowboy hats? Has Disneyland developed a sudden fascination for particle physics? He eyed the tall, well-built blonde speculatively. Freckles dusted her cheeks, complementing lively green eyes that regarded him levelly from beneath the brim of her hat. This would have implied western gear, but he was starting to think that consistency was too much to hope for. Instead she wore a mid-length green skirt, galoshes, and a very revealing top – just a loosely draped denim vest, really. Sturdy enough fabric, he thought, but, oh geez, if she moves the wrong way, everyone is going to get an eyeful. I may not be expert on Disney Princesses, but I’m pretty sure that’s not in the dress code. Cheeks beginning to heat, he hastily looked to the back of the line.
The last of the girls was also regarding him closely, but there was more than a hint of challenge in her gaze. He instinctively stiffened, standing up straight and forcing her to look up slightly. Doing so underscored her shorter stature, which was easy to overlook, though having to look up at him seemed to annoy her immensely for some reason.
Her bright, rainbow-colored hair was unmistakable, and ringing some deep-seated alarm bells, but that train of thought suffered catastrophic existence failure mere moments after departing the station.
She wore a long t-shirt with a lightning-bolt design, and beneath that– She's wearing something, right? Of course she is– she has to be… No matter what it looks like – if I was looking, which of course I am not, he thought furiously, face heating as he quickly turned away. Besides, since when does anyone forget to put on pants? Or skirts. Or shorts. Or short skirts. Or short, short, short shorts. Or– Snap out of it! Clothes are basic; surely her friends would have said something if she wasn't decent. And it wasn't as if I was trying to look.
He paused for a moment. What the hell kind of prank is this, anyways? Are they trying to get me fired? Or is this some sort of insane sexual harassment test? His mind spun in circles, until a polite cough brought him back to the present. Looking up, he noticed the purple-haired one was regarding him speculatively, until she glanced back at her rainbow companion, and her eyes widened in sudden concern.
He hastily turned to address the leader, clearing his throat self-consciously. Well, now I’m in for it. Okay, gotta keep it together. Can’t fall apart now. "Right, ah, sorry. Sorry, about… That is, we– don't, we don't get many visitors, and I'm not very good at this," he stammered, mentally groping his way back into familiar greeting territory. "Ummm, my name is Brian Markey, but please just call me Brian. Also, I should probably apologize in advance, as I'm pretty terrible at remembering names, but I'll do my best. Welcome to CERN," he said, plastering a nervous grin on his face. Oh god, please don't be too angry.
He was somewhat reassured when the tall, regal woman met his eyes and returned his smile as she greeted him warmly.
"Hello, Brian, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Elvis."
Wha?
"Elvis." He repeated, his voice wavering despite his best efforts, "nice to meet you."
"I'm Floyd!" chirped the pink-haired one enthusiastically. "Floyd Morisette."
Must not make joke, must not make joke. "Not Pink Floyd?" Dammit!
"Nooooo," she pouted, "though I tried."
"And this is Alanis Pumpkins," Elvis hastily continued, indicating the bookish one.
"Pleased to meet you as well," he replied, automatically.
"Yes, and thank you for agreeing to show us around," she said with a nervous smile.
"Indeed, we are most grateful for your generosity," chimed in the purple-haired one. "I'm Jewel Daft; it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she continued, urbanely.
"Ah, it's quite alright, Ms. Daft, I'm always happy to help lovely ladies, such as yourselves," he answered, not quite sure if he believed it. Her name seems oddly appropriate though.
"Please, darling, just Jewel will do," she said with a smile as she stepped back gracefully.
Elvis then gestured to the freckled blond standing nearby. "This is Bob Enya."
"Uh, yeah, howdy," Bob stated, fidgeting uncomfortably and looking away. "Pleased ‘ta meet 'cha."
"Likewise," he said, having his own trouble meeting her gaze.
"And behind Bob is Ozzy," continued Elvis, serenely.
"Nice to meet you as well," he said, with a hesitant smile to the other pink-haired girl, who was still half hiding behind her friend.
"hello," she replied, eyes glued firmly to the ground.
Okay, definitely not as bold as I’d have guessed from her hair.
They both jumped at a surprised yelp behind him, and he turned to see the rainbow-haired one staring indignantly at Jewel, who was now standing right behind her. Noticing his attention, Jewel backpedalled hastily, while the rainbow one shifted her glare to him.
"What're you looking at, bub?" she challenged.
"Nothing! I wasn't looking at anything! And I absolutelydidn'tseeanything." He said, hands clammy and beads of sweat pricking at his forehead in the sudden quiet.
Someone cleared her throat behind him, and they all looked over to see Elvis' serene countenance regarding them guilelessly. The rainbow one visibly deflated at the attention, turning to him and flatly stating, "Smashing Yanni."
Don'tlook–don'tlook– "Yellow!" he blurted. Crap. "Uh, I mean, hello!" How could I have missed spotting those bright canary shorts? And why would I have ever thought she wasn't wearing something? Bad brain! This is when I need to stay focused! Don't think, just fly– err, guide.
"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you all.” Assuming you are who you say you are, which I kind of doubt. Still, I can’t fault the amount of effort that’s gone into the setup. “You seem to be a very interesting group. Christina said you were students?"
Heads nodded.
"What are you studying?"
"Agriculture."
"Fashion."
"Flying."
Bob, Jewel, and Smashing looked at each other in consternation.
"Aeronautics."
"Farming."
"Design."
"It’s a Flying. Agriculture. Design. Party!" chimed in Floyd, the pink-haired girl bouncing up and down excitedly.
"That's quite a diversity of subjects for one university,” he replied, staring at them bemusedly. "What school is it?"
There was another long pause, then Bob started to blurt out "University of Eque–" before Jewel cut her off mid-word.
"University of Ecuador?" he surmised. Oh, and sticking your hand in someone's mouth to shut them up? Weird. Also, Ew.
Jewel relaxed her hold on Bob fractionally, smiling somewhat nervously. "I suppose one could say so."
"Huh. You don't look how I imagined someone from Ec– err, umm meaning no offense of course. Uh, I know Ecuador isn’t always on perfect terms with other countries, but a few political hiccups aren’t something I’d ever hold against an individual," he said with his best apologetic smile.
"Ahahahah," she tittered, sapphire eyes sparkling, "No, It's quite alright, darling, and I'm relieved to hear that you have no reservations about us. As to our situation, I'm afraid it's a little bit…” she tapped her chin musingly, “complicated."
"Indeed," Elvis cut in with a smile, "And we'd love to tell you about it, but before we get bogged down in our own recounting, I know we are all very interested in hearing your story. Perhaps you could tell us a bit of it?"
"Oh, of course, the tour; how rude of me. What did you want to hear about? I heard you were interested in our department specifically, but I'd like to make sure I understand your focus. Is there a particular item you are interested in?" He looked at them expectantly.
"Why don't we start with the sort of things you, yourself do?" Elvis suggested after a moment, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. "We'd love to hear about what sort of duties you have, what sort of training you do, or maybe a bit about your latest mission?"
Mission? You mean like auditing food services? "Err right, um, well, first of all I'm a CPA."
Blank looks all around.
Ha! 'Requested our department' indeed. If they were really so keen on accounting, then you’d think they’d know what a Certified Public Accountant is. Well, if they want to play dumb, then I suppose I can oblige them.
“Well, for starters, I maintain CERN’s accounts; I keep the books around here."
Alanis' eyes lit up at this, which Elvis noticed as well. "Oh really? Alanis is an outstanding student, and looks after quite a few books herself," Elvis stated cheerfully.
The indigo-haired girl nodded, with a big smile. "Yes, I find it quite fascinating, though not everyone can appreciate it," she said, shooting a dirty look at Smashing. The feisty, rainbow-haired girl grinned back at her unrepentantly.
Brian shrugged. "Well, it's an important job, but it's not for everyone."
Alanis sighed, "That's certainly true. What's it like for you, then? I'd like to compare notes."
"Well, I'm usually not too busy, though things tend to pick up at the end of the quarter, when I have to close the books. And of course, it's a problem if they ever don't balance."
"Wow. That sounds very... Thorough. And I thought I was organized.” Alanis paused for a few moments, deep in thought. "Is the balancing very difficult?"
"Well, it's pretty routine, so it's usually not too much trouble. Like I said, though – if things don't balance, then it can start to get messy. Fortunately, the folks here are pretty upright, so you generally don't have to worry about anyone cooking the books."
"Cooking the books?” she gasped. "That's terrible! Why would anyone do such a thing?"
"Well…” he thought for a moment, “Some folks are just plain greedy, but they might also be trying to cover up red ink."
"Red ink?" she asked, tone rising as her brow furrowed. "Granted, it could be a bit unsettling, but still... Isn't that a bit extreme?"
"Oh, I agree,” he said with a nod, “but some folks are under a lot of pressure to make the numbers look good, and sometimes they resort to crooked measures to do so."
"So... To get rid of red ink, they cook the books," she said slowly. "And then the only way to find that out is by balancing them."
"More or less, though it doesn't always hide things completely, so much as reduce the severity or cast things in a better light. And balancing is useful to find other sorts of errors as well, like if someone made a wrong entry."
Alanis’ mouth moved, but no sound came out, and he was reminded of a stranded fish for a few moments, before she started to reply.
"That's, That's..."
"That's very interesting Brian, thank you." Elvis said, interrupting Alanis with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps you can elaborate more on the subject later. Surely your duties don't revolve entirely around books, however." She looked at him with a somewhat bemused smile.
"Well, it's mostly routine bookwork, but they do sometimes call on us to perform inventory checks, or maybe an in-person audit."
As Elvis mulled over his reply, he was just able to make out another conversation that had flared up on the side.
"It doesn't make any sense!" Alanis hissed quietly.
"Ah know, sugarcube, it did sound a mite bit strange to me too,” Bob replied, fiddling with her hat. “Especially that bit about balancin'."
"Actually, that has at least some logic, given how many times mine have ended up on the floor. As well, it would be natural for someone with just two legs and no tail to be preoccupied with falling over. What doesn't fit in is the color bias. Why does the color matter so much? Even if the inks had differing masses, how wo–”
"Hey, Brian, what's this?"
He looked over to the window, where his eavesdropping had been interrupted by the rainbow-haired one, uh, S–something? Shoot. "Umm, what was that again, Samantha?” he asked, hopefully.
"Yeah," she replied, still giving him a shooty look. "What does this bent piece of metal do, and why is it in this case?"
Floyd suddenly poked her head in from the side, curly pink hair almost tickling his nose. "Wait, I thought her name was supposed to be Smashing!"
"Pinkie!" cried the others.
"Pinkie?" he said, confused. "I thought you said your name was Floyd."
"It's a nickname," she said, grinning.
"Oh, I suppose that makes sense."
Smashing cleared her throat and gestured again, and he looked to where the rainbow haired girl was pointing on the wall. There a large, glass case was mounted, with a crowbar resting inside, and a simple message emblazoned on the front: 'in case of inter-dimensional invasion, break glass.'
The grin sprouted on his face, unbidden, and he chuckled, confusion momentarily set aside. "Right, you were wondering about this crowbar?" he asked, indicating the case. "There's actually a bit of a funny story about it."
"Oh yeah? What's so funny about it?" Smashing asked him quizzically.
"Yes, I'd like to know as well," chimed in Alanis.
"Indeed – do tell," added Jewel, absently twirling one of her luxurious purple locks.
"All right. I take it none of you have ever played Half-Life."
"Hmm. I think I've heard the term somewhere," replied Alanis, "but not in the context of any sort of game."
The others just shook their heads.
"Well in a nutshell, the story is that Earth is invaded by aliens from another dimension," he continued, losing himself in one of his favorite anecdotes. "You play as the hero, Gordon Freeman, a scientist working at a huge, top secret laboratory researching strange, advanced materials. To be fair, the invasion is partially their fault, as one of the experiments goes awry, causing a 'resonance cascade'. Anyway, all these aliens started to appear, and he had to fight his way back to one of the other labs, where he could go to the other world, defeat the aliens' leader, and stop the invasion. The significance of the crowbar is that it's one of the first weapons he gets, and it kind of ends up as his symbol. Personally, I though the gravity gun was cooler, but they didn't introduce it until the sequel, and I'll admit that that the crowbar is a little more photogenic."
“Anyhow, when CERN was first starting up the LHC there was a lot of silly talk about how we were going to 'destroy the world'. Some folks genuinely thought we'd make a micro black hole or something that would devour the earth; I think there may have even been a lawsuit. Most folks were better grounded, though, and some saw the humor in the situation. Of those, a handful took the joke further and sent us an actual crowbar, plus a copy of Half-Life as a 'training simulator' in case we accidentally triggered an invasion of our own."
It was then that the silence of his audience registered. He turned, and was surprised to see the range of expressions they wore. Floyd had a huge grin, but most of the others regarded him with shock, worry, and even outright hostility. Alanis in particular now stood stiffly between him and Elvis, her violet eyes flashing, though Elvis’ serene demeanor hadn’t faltered. I didn’t think I botched the delivery that badly. Maybe they have something against video games?
"A tool like that stopping an inter-dimensional invasion? What special properties does it have?" demanded the indigo haired girl.
"Well, he didn't just use a crowbar, but that's beside the point. Like I said – it was just a game; that sort of thing doesn't actually happen in real life. The most this crowbar can do is open boxes."
"Hmm,” she replied, deflating somewhat. “That makes more sense than trying to tackle an inter-dimensional invasion with an ordinary piece of metal; even in a story, that'd be pretty farfetched. That sort of problem calls for the strongest magical artifacts, and even then, the results don't alwa– ouch!” she said, hopping on one foot. "What did you do that for?" she said, glaring at Jewel.
"Do what, darling?" Jewel replied, sapphire eyes widening innocently, even as she gave just the barest nod in his direction.
"... Sorry. It just would have been strange for a mundane object like that to be so powerful,” Alanis muttered, defensively.
"Unlike magic artifacts right?" he asked, rhetorically. "I take it you prefer fantasy, then."
"Yes. Fantasy," she replied, flatly, looking back over at him.
"Riiiiight. Well. You clearly know your inter-dimensional invasions better than I do," he said, awkwardly. Okay, so that story didn't exactly go over as well as I'd hoped. "How about we do a bit of the actual tour? I can take you to the visitor center, if you’d like."
"That is a very good idea, Brian," Elvis stated. "Let's do that – I would like to see more of this 'CERN' and learn of all these dimensional-related abilities."
"They're not dimensionally related," Brian protested, as he led them out of the lobby. "Dimension hopping is purely theoretical, and even then it requires a wormhole, or other materials so exotic that we're not sure if they can even exist. You really should have a proper guide, but from what I understand, this research is more about fundamental physics – recreating the conditions at the beginning of the universe, so we can learn more about the particles that existed, and improve our basic models."
"Waitaminute – recreate the beginning of the universe? You're trying to go back in time?!" Smashing exclaimed, her magenta eyes growing wide.
"No no no, time travel is just as impossible as dimensional travel. Particle accelerators just take two groups of ions, get them going nearly the speed of light, and then steer them together to see what happens. No time or dimension travel funny business. Since the LHC is the biggest accelerator, it can achieve the most energetic collisions, so the stuff it produces can come a bit closer to what existed right after the big bang, when the universe was only a few milliseconds old."
Alanis had a troubled look on her face as she looked over at Elvis, who maintained her serene smile.
"The big bang? I don't recall that coming up before," Alanis stated, somewhat pointedly.
"The actual mechanics of creation tend to have little bearing on the living of a worthwhile life." Elvis replied, before shifting her focus back to Brian. "You would understand the birth of a cosmos. Why does such knowledge warrant this level of effort? To what end do you seek it?"
Brian’s stride faltered at her sudden intensity. "Well, first of all, on a national level, this isn't actually all that much effort. Sure, it cost seven and a half billion euros, but contrary to popular belief, that's not really a significant amount for any of the funding countries. They spend way more on defense, health care, heck, probably even keeping the lights on. Though large in absolute terms, it's only a small slice of the overall pie."
"As for why," he continued, "I guess it’s innate curiosity, really. Scientists are never satisfied until they can take something apart and explain it, and governments still support it because the pursuit of knowledge is a noble endeavor."
"So, knowledge for its own sake? You do not intend to use it, then?" she said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"Oh, of course we'd use it; big science projects have a history of spinning off useful byproducts. But without knowing what we might learn, though, there's no way to say exactly how we'd use it. There is no question, however, that our modern, technological lifestyle ultimately owes a lot to basic research like this." He paused briefly, as they reached another large set of double doors, which he held for them to pass through.
"Anyhow, this is the visitor center. If you look around, you can see the various models and exhibits detailing the machine, its major components, and how they all work together. For example, here by the door we have a cutaway of one of the accelerating rings, with the rest of the wall explaining other technical aspects of the accelerator. The back wall covers the various detector experiments, while the far side has a brief history of the facility, and finally, the table in the center has a big model of the entire CERN complex.”
Elvis walked over, and began to study the main model he had indicated. Brian joined her, gesturing to the current focus of her attention. "Ah yes, right now we're here, in the administration building. Just behind us, and several stories underground, is the acceleration ring, as well as ATLAS, one of the main experiments. The wall back there describes them more fully, but each detector has a different array of instrumentation, so they can detect different aspects of the particle collisions."
"The main accelerator ring is about nine kilometers across, and you can see how the tunnel crosses between France and Switzerland along the way. Fortunately, since the Schengen treaty, they don't check passports at the border anymore, or there'd be no way for the electrons to achieve near-luminal speeds." He paused expectantly with a smile.
...
...
Dammit. Tough crowd.
"Uhh, anyhow, these blocks represent the beam dumps, where they dispose of beams once they become too depleted of ions to produce very many collisions. Over here are the pre-accelerator loops – they actually used to be the old main accelerators – and these points around the circumference are the cooling stations. The superconducting magnets have to be cooled to near absolute zero, which takes a lot of power and leads to even more waste heat. They can make for some pretty good updrafts, if the conditions are right."
Smashing nodded appreciatively, her rainbow hair making the gesture rather eye catching. "Oh? What kind of lift are you talking about?" she asked, casually.
"Hmm? Oh, they can get up to three meters-per-second or so, if the accelerator is running at full power – enough to reach the cloud base in around ten minutes, if you ride them all the way up ... uhh, hypothetically speaking, of course. Not that I would have any actual experience with that!" he grinned nervously.
Fortunately, Smashing didn't seem concerned about calling him on his familiarity with the subject. She pursed her lips as she considered, "that's a pretty strong updraft. You say all that heat comes from cooling?"
"Ah, well, It's not all just from cooling; the beam itself is quite energy intensive, too. I've heard that at full draw, CERN uses about a quarter of Geneva's electricity, and at maximum power the beams themselves contain as much kinetic energy as a high speed train."
The looks he was getting told him that his description had missed the mark, so he decided to elaborate a bit. "Imagine a passenger train going full throttle – and I'm talking about a TGV or ICE, so a couple hundred kilometers an hour at least. Then take all of that train's kinetic energy, and pack it into a group of ions that weigh less than the tiniest speck of dust. So instead of moving tons and tons of mass at a pretty respectable clip, you're moving an infinitesimal mass at –literally– an astronomical speed. Now do it again, except traveling in the opposite direction, steer the two together, and watch what happens."
He tried not to grin as glazed eyes gradually gave way to dropped jaws; by the end, even Elvis looked a bit taken aback, though the expression was fleeting. "That is indeed a substantial amount of energy – CERN must be widely respected. I imagine your foes dare not attack you for fear of it."
"Attack us?" he eyed her, puzzled. "The scientists will attack each other's findings, sure, but that doesn't sound like what you were talking about."
She merely raised an eyebrow in reply.
"Right. Well, first of all, CERN is a research institution formed by an international consortium. Ignoring the fact that we're founded on international cooperation in the first place, we don't have a political agenda; we're just after the science."
"Furthermore, the accelerator couldn't be used as a weapon even if we wanted to. Sure, you'd get fried if you somehow stood in front of the beam, but the whole point of all these magnets and it being underground is to contain the energy. Not to mention that the whole apparatus is immobile and there is no way to aim the beam more than a few centimeters in any direction."
"I see. Still, that is a considerable amount of effort for 'only research', and they must think of you highly to make you one of its keepers. I'm not quite sure how all of this teaches you about the beginning of the universe, though. The collisions you describe are powerful on a small scale, but they are hardly what I would consider cosmic."
"Well, to be honest, I'm not all that sure of the details. As I understand it, when the particles collide, they fragment into other, smaller particles that we don't normally get to see. By measuring those results against the results our models predict, we can test the models' accuracy, to narrow down which are the most useful and how they need to be refined. Apparently it's also important for theories reconstructing what happened in the first few instants after the big bang, when the universe was so small that quantum mechanics was still a dominant force."
"Quantum mechanics?" asked Alanis quizzically.
"Um, right. Even though I work here, keep in mind that I'm no physicist. As best I understand it, it's basically the set of natural laws that describe how matter and energy and stuff behave, except really, really small. Small to the point where the normal rules of atomic theory break down and things are so tiny and evanescent that the very act of observing them changes the outcome." He stared absently at the ceiling as he tried to piece together a parade of pop-sci articles, and his half-remembered chats with the occasional grad student. "For example, I remember them saying you can measure either the position or the velocity of a particle, but not both, and particles can teleport, affect each other at a distance, or even appear or disappear out of nothing."
He refocused on the group to see almost all of them looking at Floyd for some reason, including Floyd. The sole exception was Elvis, who regarded him speculatively. "Observation changes the observed," she mused, "an interesting concept."
"Yeah, things get pretty weird at the quantum level; I don't pretend to really understand it. I'm pretty sure it only applies once you start talking about sub-atomic scale stuff, though – remember, I'm talking many thousands of times smaller than a grain of sand, here. A table or a person isn't going to be measurably influenced by something like the observation effect."
"Perhaps the furniture will not react, but individuals certainly do." Elvis replied, with the hint of a smile. "The fundamental idea has a certain elegance. Sometimes, the only way to learn something's true nature is to give it a certain freedom to act."
"I guess I can see your point, though that's more a matter of philosophy than physics."
"The two may be closer than you think. Sometimes even the fall of a single leaf can be enough to alter fate in ways no one could foresee. Who are we to say with such confidence what does or does not matter? You may be busy figuring out how the world works, but have you ever really stopped to consider why?"
He paused a moment, struck by the unexpected turn in conversation. "Well, if you put it that way, then I guess no, I never really have," he said, somewhat sheepishly. "There are certainly philosophers asking that sort of question, but I'm afraid I've never really sat down with their books or gone to any classes pondering the 'why' type questions. Heck, I'm not even one of the clever folks around here trying to unravel the 'how' – I'm just the 'how much' guy."
"How very civilized," Elvis stated, drolly.
"Well, I don't know how you handle things in Ecuador, and I'm not trying to claim that our system is perfect," he said a little defensively, "but pretty much everything else we've tried so far has been worse, so..." he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug,
"Hmm. It's true your points were not entirely without merit," she replied musingly, before lapsing into a contemplative silence.
After a moment, she spoke again, with a certain newfound air of purpose. "Girls, if you would excuse me for a moment?" before shifting her gaze to Brian and continuing, "Could you direct me to the nearest restroom?"
He quickly pointed out the requested facilities, and it was only after she had left that he registered the change in the atmosphere, as the girls looked around at each other, suddenly rudderless. Alanis in particular appeared to have come unmoored, and Bob was muttering quietly to herself.
"Now that's mighty sudden, and it don't make a lick of sense."
"Yeah," Smashing responded, "I'm not sure if I've ever heard of her even going to the–" she began, before being cut off by an accidental elbow to the stomach as Jewel developed a sudden coughing fit.
"Don't be silly, Smashing. Of course Princesses don't..." Alanis began, before trailing off herself, as her confusion shifted gears and an oddly speculative look crossed her face.
"Are you okay there, sugarcube?" Bob asked Jewel.
"Ah yes, darling, just a momentary spell. More importantly, is now really the time to go into this?" replied Jewel, who was looking meaningfully at Alanis.
"Huh?” The indigo haired girl snapped out of her trance. “Oh, I suppose not," she conceded, a bit sheepishly.
An awkward quiet descended on the room. Shoot, what to talk about now? Crap, I really would prefer another subject, but… He sighed quietly. “Okay, so keep in mind that history isn’t really my strong sui–”
His speech was torpedoed before it even began, as a hollow thumping sounded from the far wall, echoing oddly in the carpeted display room and causing everyone to look around nervously.
"It wasn't me!" Smashing cried from a defensive crouch before the noise had even died away.
He would have loved to ask the rainbow haired girl what had prompted that particular reflex, but he was already moving to try and find the source of the noise. A brief search found nothing out of place, though, and he was about to write it off, when the lights flickered briefly.
Brian froze mid-step, tilting his head up slowly, and regarding the misbehaving light fixtures as one might a venomous snake. Uh, that's odd. They're extremely sensitive about the power supply here. "Don't worry; it's probably just this room," he reassured the others. Either that or someone is going to catch hell.
That was before everything decided to... Twitch? Shiver? Chills ran up his spine, as the universe itself seemed to blink, and for a moment, he had the strangest vision of a swirling void with six beams of light, and then everything was back, as if nothing had happened.
"Um. I'm sure that was nothing to worry about, either," he lied, looking around a little wildly. "Ah, still, perhaps one of you ladies could go check up on Elvis, and–"
A loud series of cracks behind him cut him off, and he winced involuntarily. He really didn't want to look over, but Ozzy's quiet gasp pulled his head around like a magnet as the timid girl ducked behind a table, leaving only her pink hair still visible.
This time it was impossible to miss the source of trouble, as the superconducting magnet diorama had tilted drunkenly to one side and now began to rock ominously.
Floyd and Bob had just started towards it when there was another loud crack, this time clearly coming from the diorama, as it was accompanied by two small forms tumbling out of a newly revealed panel into a heap on the floor.
Wings and hooves stuck out from a tangle of feathers and fur. Two pairs of silver eyes blinked open, and took only the briefest glance around the room before lighting up as they locked onto him. The pair quickly untangled themselves, and he had a sudden sense of déjà vu as their wings snapped open and began to buzz as they leaped into the air.
"Yaaaay!"
"Oh no, what are they doing here?" cried Alanis as she lost her remaining shreds of composure. "Lunaaa!!! What's happening?"
Christina replied after a moment, her voice seemingly coming from everywhere.
"Oh dear. We know not how they came to be here."
The lights flickered once more and he had a brief feeling that the floor lurched, though none of the furniture seemed to have been affected.
The two foals were unfazed as well, judging by how easily they evaded the others' belated attempts to intercept them as they flew to him.
"Play!" exclaimed the little colt, flying circles around his legs.
The filly hovered an arms-length away, looking at him soulfully. "Sweet?"
A roaring rose in his ears as reality seemed to hiccup once more. His limbs suddenly felt leaden, despite the adrenaline now pumping through his veins.
"Prithee evict them posthaste!" Christina's disembodied voice cried. "'Twas hard enough to guide the pieces together in the first place! Any more of this, and he is going to wa–"
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Worse interrogation ever!
Ok, I really like this approach. I don't think I've ever seen a first contact sort of scene in this light. Luna's GMing the dream had me grinning.
When everything is said and done, I expect Twilight is going to sit down with Brian and have a proper geek-out.
Wow, I really like where this is going.
Please, continue.
That's what we call a tonal shift.
Right at the beginning, when Luna was telling Brian to do the tour, I was half-expecting him to say something like "I'm going to need something in writing saying it has to be the accountant who does the tour," at which point we get to see Luna meet human bureaucracy.
This was awful and brilliant and hilarious.
Just when I thought the story had almost run out of steam, WHAM! Thank you!
Pleas write more but I really hate it when a good fanfic takes so long to update that I forget about it
plz update or I'll send the ninjas to get you 
Soo, do they speak the same language outside now?
That was pretty fucking awesome.
Oh hey, the story about the guy who nine-eleven'd Cloudsdale is still alive.
I found myself asking, multiple times, "When is he going to stop playing along."
You made it clear that he knows something is off with "Christina", that he knows that no such tour would ever occur, that they are using fake identities, etc.
Why does he not react to any of it?
It feels like you wrote a chapter where he was unaware of what was happening, realized it was absurd to ignore so many mistakes, then tried to fix it by adding a token lampshade.
Humans: we fire particle beams at one another just to see what happens. Because science.
Fantastic dream sequence. Seeing two very different cultures trying to understand one another was hilarious. Eagerly looking forward to more, especially whatever conclusions the ponies have drawn.
Was that... Nah, it's got to be a coincidence.
To be honest, I had absolutely no idea where you could take the story after the end of the last chapter, and then you go and slip us this.
That is, hands down, the worst and funniest interrogation ever.
4478017 that is....the single greatest comment I have ever seen
That was thoroughly enjoyable as a good first contact scene should be; the concept that equestria uses different slang for their accountants was clever too.
When I write, a bit of my day job tends to bleed into my work, and I have to ask, do you have any connection to a science lab, soaring or accounting? If not, why that choice of work and play for the protagonist? Full disclosure here, my own background is in engineering, and I'm working towards a pilots license.
Wait, Rainbow Dash showed up naked?
I'm guessing the foals ended up jumping on his bed! jostling him and waking him up.
4478034 I think it was less him not noticing and more of him playing along with, what he thought was, a joke.
4477952 Good question. I can never remember every detail of my dreams. And my dreams usually don't make much sense because they are mostly made of impressions and my scattered thought rather than what is actually happening. So he might find he understands bits or gets the impression that a phrase or word seems to "ring a bell." But most likely he will just be even more confused.
One of my notes when writing this chapter was that 'language does not necessarily equal communication'
4477604
Whaaaat? They got all sorts of information!
4477745
Heh. You're right - ponies vs. bureaucracy would've been a fun match up, but I was avoiding him saying the word 'accountant' like the plague, or else the jig would've been up with that little 'cook the books' exchange.
4478034
Don't forget that he's dreaming. I've had dreams where I was intercepting river boats in a giant mech, or refereeing a soccer game on a stadium built into a zeppelin and it never even occurred to me to question anything about it until I woke up...
4478080
No coincidence, my fine, fellow writer - a tip of the saucepan-helmet, if you will
4478116
... Only partially, though, and it got fixed 
I would have led them astray from the beginning. For starters, it was way too obvious. People from Ecuador don't sound British or have American accents for the most part, they sound Spanish. That was a dead giveaway. And Luna... Wow, she was obvious, using medieval speech. If I didn't realize they were inside my mind, I would have called for them to be arrested for impersonation and spying, or else arrest them myself.
4478034
Well, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever spell they're using here included some kind of mind-clouding aspect, or something similar that encouraged him to just play along instead of asking questions.
4478205
I could accept that, but he did notice it and dismissed it as a prank (the "lampshade"). You've set it up so that he knows that something is going on, but he doesn't do anything about it.
4477622
4477723
4477770
4478015
Glad it worked for you!
4478074
Yes, for great science!
4478324
Y'know, the fact that our hero kind of pulled a terrorist attack on a major Equestrian city is something he's not gonna be able to live down.
4478017
Yep, not dead yet. I'm sure it'll get better.
4478101
Science, sadly no, though I'm a bit of an information sponge in that regards. I'm not an accountant, either, but my work is within shouting distance of that realm. I'd love to fly, but I'm still budgeting the time/money for lessons.
What happens when you cross the beams?
Science happens.
4477604 Worst first-contact scenario ever, either...
Those two foals, did they outrun their babysitters or something?
4478332
More like crashed a large aircraft into a suburb during the middle of the day. Lots of property damage, but AFAICT few injuries and no loss of life.
Yay! New chapter.
4478101
Also, as far as the science goes, I did do a fair bit of research on particle accelerators and the LHC. Plus, as I mentioned in the author's note, I had the benefit of Luna-tic Scientist's expertise in looking things over for any major discrepancies. I'll admit that the information is only mostly accurate, but then again - Brian is an accountant, not a physicist.
4478361
Yes! We must make with the science!
4478404
A few minor hiccups, perhaps. As for our little troublemakers, well, I'm afraid that would be telling.
4478431
Yeah, I'm trying to keep this reasonably lighthearted (drama in the last chapter aside), and property damage is much more fun than loss of life.
Is there really a crowbar like that at CERN? Because that would be pretty cool.
Also, Dr. Gordon Freeman is best scientist.
4478616
I'm not sure if they put it in a display case or not, buuuut: "the crowbar arrived at CERN, Freeman received it, world saved"
So yes, you can sleep easy at night
4478332
Apart from what 4478431 pointed out, it wasn’t deliberate. Massive incidental property damage ≠ terrorism, though the later often goes hand‐in‐hand with the former.
Nice to see you back my good sir.
This is a very enjoyable story. (I'm not a scientist but the subject interests me enough to keep an eye out for new things) I'll be watching for the next installment. I sympathize with trying to write and deal with real life at the same time. Best of luck!
snerk
Well, I suppose it would seem logical to pick 'human' names from band names.
4478245
See, the thing is with dreams, it seems logical when you're in the dream, even if it doesn't make any sense. For example, one time I fell asleep in front of the TV during a program on modern treatment of HIV and AIDS. In my dream, I was playing football with a bunch of friends, but rather than a normal conversation, I was receiving the audio from the TV. When I woke up, I began to wonder at how odd it was that terms were being thrown around in my dream that I didn't really even understand. It wasn't until the commercial break ended and the program restarted that I realized what had happened.
In another dream, I was both driving my car and later riding on top of it and pushing with my feet because it was now a toy car. I saw a couple of my friends flying around, and they explained that they were wearing their costumes for Midsummer Night's Dream--in which they were playing faeries--so of course they could fly now.
Hell, one I remember from when I was a kid was the time the Beagle Boys were after me. And that's to say nothing of experiencing hallucinations a couple of times.
The point is, in his state he's unlikely to be able to actively resist, and he'll take everything at face value, no matter how odd it is.
4478820 I see...
4478644 Also helping me sleep easy is the fact that I have a crowbar in my room at all times. Along with twin machetes and an ax, but that's beside the point.
Grab that crowbar before it's gone mate, 'cuz things are about to get weirder than Full Life Consequences!
Thou art
Aeronautics. Also, I would add punctuation to even their single word sentences.
would swap the positions of these two.
Well, you've earned my up-thumb again. That was sterling stuff there, and I can only regret that I have but one upvote to give for this story. The misunderstanding about accounting was particularly amusing, although I might be biased by the MBA I'm currently trying to power my way through.
That said, can't wait for the next chapter.
How. How did the Universe not implode. Edit: Oh, it just took a while to get warmed up.
I think it's in 2001 that the main character wakes up in some sort of copy of a hotel room dredged from his memories. You cannot open any of the drawers, the TV runs the same movie nonstop on a loop, etc, because the alien intelligences he deals with couldn't get the details.
This dream contact attempt is far more elaborate but about as successful - and cringe-inducingly funny at the same time as rolling the plot forward (and keeping folks in character - Celestia prodding for dangers of his job, RD being suddenly interested in minor detail pertinent to her interest, etc). That our main character doesn't react earlier to his very weird visitors feels very much righ as well - because all my experiences in a service profession tell me the normal reaction to the absurd is to politely ignore it and hope it goes away!
I have the faintest feeling that these ten are gonna be more than a little stuck after the hiccup in their mind-invading stunt. Serves eight of them right.
Oh cool, this story isn't totally dead.
im so glad this updated i thought it was dead
Awesome chapter. I really like the subtle way they're trying to question him & how their preconceptions are being challenged.
Great stuff! Keep up your hard work. I am a total sucker for well written first contact scenarios.
Next chapter is going to be. So. Awesome.
You know you're in trouble when you're being rescued by BABIES.
Okay, this chapter was full of AWESOME!
Minor typo:
"Fortunately, since the Shengen(Schengen is the correct spelling) treaty, they don't check passports at the border anymore, or there'd be no way for the electrons to achieve near-luminal speeds."
minds are sacred for a reason.
when he finds out about the under-handed tricks they were using to pry for info, he is going to be p-iiiised! 