10 - Pony in a Particle Accelerator, Redux
Days of Wasp and Spider
by Luna-tic Scientist
No complex system, one able to change and adapt to external events, is ever static. The more complex the system the more likely it will be that it will exhibit unexpected behaviours as it evolves. So it was with what was left of the Pattern. Tens of thousands of years are a long time for a flesh and blood being, but for one made from the quantum foam at the bottom of space-time...
You can't call it the Pattern, because that entity has spread itself across a myriad of meat brains. It is an emergent property of those countless requests to manipulate physics in ways that might be called 'magic’ and rides along on the backs of the complex but stupid automata that it shares existence with. It’s nowhere near as powerful a mind as the Pattern was, but it is truly sentient and has desires and a will of its own; a mind as sophisticated as any of those the Pattern currently inhabits, but far, far faster.
Compared to the ordered eleven dimensional machinery left behind by the Pattern it is anarchic, it is Chaos.
It is not part of the Pattern's plan.
=== Chapter 10 (remastered): Pony in a Particle Accelerator, Redux ===
Author’s note: for reference 1 kilosec ~15 minutes, 1 megasec ~10 days, 1 gigasec ~32 years.
Korn jerked awake to a herd beast's short lived death cries and the sound of claws ripping through flesh. "Off," he mumbled, stilling the alarm before it could play the sound again at twice the volume. The alarm program had been a present from Ithra after he'd slept through a breakfast date she'd arranged -- apparently it had been designed by a psychologist to wake the soundest sleeper by a firm shake of the hindbrain. An evil psychologist, Korn thought, looking at the time display in distaste as his heart rate sank back to more normal levels, works every time, though. Crawling out of the low-ceilinged, fur lined sleeping den he stood upright and scratched vigorously, running slightly too long claws through his fur from knees to shoulder. With the lights still off he padded into the kitchen nook to rummage through the cold store. Apart from that it might give him a heart attack one day, the only real problem with the alarm was it always made him ravenous.
Reaching into the cold store, Korn pulled a bloody handful of diced meat from one container, gave it a sniff -- not as fresh as it could be, but still within the bounds of edibility for a bachelor -- then dumped it in a bowl. Transferring this to the induction oven, he idly licked the blood off his palm while the machine flash heated his breakfast to body temperature. A few seconds later he'd retrieved the bowl and was slumped in a chair front of the wall screen and eating with the normal grace of a male used to his own space.
"Screen on, access APRI labournet, Fusion Pulse TC4668," he mumbled between mouthfuls.
"That servitor has not connected to labournet for twenty six kiloseconds. Its communicator is listed as destroyed; no replacement has been logged. The servitor is currently in medical isolation room four."
The voice was that of Ithra; Korn gave a guilty glance over his shoulder -- she'd not been around to his apartment since he'd missed their last date -- but he dare not forget that he'd set the screen to her voice. 'Creepy' she'd called it when Korn had let slip what he'd done. Perhaps he could rig an automatic change for when she'd decided he'd suffered enough and turned up unannounced...
He shook his head. "Idiot," he muttered. "Bring up the camera for that room."
The screen, a standard model that filled most of the opposite wall, showed its 'waiting' symbol for a few seconds then opened the connection. With his dark adapted eyes the view was blindingly bright, and Korn only caught a glimpse of a white shape huddled against one grey wall before his eyes closed in reflex.
"Maker-damned stupid... Screen: minimum brightness," he shouted, blinking back the tears as the light flooding the room dropped back to a more comfortable level. Peering through the coloured splotches clouding his vision, Korn studied the image.
The camera was mounted in the middle of the ceiling and used a wide angle lens that distorted the rectangular room into strange curves, but did show everything almost up to roof level. Made even smaller by the strange perspective, the white servitor was folded into a compact bundle against one wall, head and legs tucked up under wide spread-wing feathers. A dishevelled mass of pink hair cascaded out from behind that wing, mane and tail tangled and indistinguishable.
Korn leaned forward, frowning, his breakfast forgotten. "Zoom in on the servitor," he said, watching as the tight bundle of feathers and fur expanded to almost life size on his wall screen. The lack of grooming was even more obvious now; fur was matted and feathers were in disarray, and mud clogged the fur of its fetlocks where hooves protruded from under the wing. This was very strange; he couldn't ever remember a servitor not being at the very least clean.
"Korn knew it was a mistake to separate the servitor from its kin so soon," he growled, trying to suppress his rising concern. "Medical records, overlay... um... heart rate, breathing rate and any stress indicators." A ghostly line graph covered part of the image, compressing the thirty-odd kiloseconds the servitor had spent in isolation to a spiky plot a few paws-widths across. As Vanca had repeatedly hold him, Korn was no veterinarian, but he was responsible for the experimental subjects and had spent some considerable time studying how they reacted to the stressful experimental protocols. In this he probably knew more than the Academician; she was certainly a genius thaumophysicist, but without him they'd have lost this servitor in the last accelerator run.
Korn dropped the cooling bowl of meat scraps to the floor and walked over to the screen, lost in thought. Tracing the heart rate line with one claw he stopped at one marker he didn't recognise. "What does this mean?" he said, tapping the screen.
"Surface chemoreceptors detected the presence of a physiological fluid, composition consistent with lacrimation."
Korn's still fuzzy brain worked thorough the medical jargon and finally managed a translation. "It was crying?" he said, deeply disturbed. Servitors were universally happy with their lot; the conditioning process meant that the mere act of following orders made them content. But... there were times where conflicting orders could cause stress, even a few cases where a servitor had been rendered unusable by a thoughtless word. Korn wracked his memory for anything he'd said to the servitor that might have triggered this extreme level of distress.
There was nothing; all he'd said was 'rest'. The pony should have made itself presentable and gone to sleep happy, ready for the next day's tasks. Instead it had apparently spent nearly fifteen kiloseconds tossing and turning, only to finally cry itself to sleep a little before dawn. It was bad practice in his line of work, but Korn found himself worried for the servitor. Not just for the quality of its work, either -- although if Vanca was going to put it through another high power run she might as well just shoot it in the head and be done with it. In this condition there was no way it would be able to concentrate at the level required to survive for long.
Korn replayed these last thoughts and groaned. He was actually becoming attached to the creature.
===
A change in the air woke Fusion from a dream of being pulled into the razor edged mouth of a giant Master by green tentacles. Her muzzle twitched at the new and slightly rank odour, eyes snapping open to stare in confusion at a close roof of pale feathers. Pulling her wing down she was suddenly eye to eye with a Master. In a sudden surge of panicked reflex her legs shot out in an effort to roll herself upright, which would have worked if the Master hadn't been so close. She caught him full in the chest with her front right hoof, the impact jolting her from foreankle to shoulder and throwing the Master against the wall with a solid thump. The instrument he had been holding flew out of his paw and vanished through the open door, followed by the sound of something expensive and fragile breaking.
Fusion froze, filled with horror and all her soul-searching from the night before forgotten in the face of a very real and very hurt Master, falling head-long back into thought patterns learned from under her mother's wing. She had just injured a... "M-Master, f-f-orgive..." the mare said in a panicked voice, but it was too late. She scrambled to her hooves, legs trembling, then fell back to her knees and crawled to the Master. He -- Student Korn, Fusion realised -- was slumped against the wall, a spot of blood, startlingly red in the bright lights, where his head had struck the wall. She felt suddenly dizzy and shook her head to try and wake up from this bad dream, barely able to comprehend the magnitude of this disaster. Finally convinced that she wasn't still asleep, she stood back up and hesitantly reached out with a hoof to touch Korn's shoulder. The lanky form fell slowly sideways, coming to rest with his long pink tongue hanging limply from half open jaws.
"Nononononon..." Fusion babbled. "Master, please wake up." She ran through what first aid she remembered that related to Masters; it was pitifully short list and mostly just went 'move them carefully to a safe area and seek medical assistance'. If the punishment for minor disobedience was the lash of magical pain, what would happen if a pony killed a Master? A couple of days ago she'd have assumed the Maker would have struck her dead in an instant. Now, however, she knew that was a lie to cover for the control spell called the 'Blessing', a spell she apparently no longer had. Based on Random's reaction to being told she'd attacked legitimate Hive military, Fusion knew what should have happened; she should be writhing on the floor in agony, filled with pain that was only likely to end when her heart finally stopped. An investigation was inevitable.
She would be examined in microscopic detail until they understood what had happened, then either euthanized or subjected to further research that would have the same end result. Would they believe that the lab accident was the whole reason for her actions, or would they suspect a genetic or upbringing failure? Like a landscape illuminated by a single lightening flash, a nightmare view of the future settled in the mare's mind.
Her parents and sister would be red-listed by the Eugenics Board, denied any future opportunity to breed and ordered not to approach any foals. Shunned by the rest of the corral by the taint of their daughter's crime. Perhaps the Board would even decide that her whole family was too great a risk to be in contact with the Masters ever again. The scenario played out to its logical conclusion: a labournet order to report for euthanization. There were worse possibilities, though, being left alive as an object lesson. Denied useful work and faced with the prospect of living with the shame of knowing they'd brought up a murderer for the rest of a life unbounded by death... One by one the despair would overwhelm them and her father/mother/sister would make that one-way trip to the infirmary.
Fusion enfolded Korn in a white haze of telekinesis, preparing to rush him to the nearest aid station, when he gasped and twitched. She let her magic fade, allowing him to raise one paw to rub the back of his head. Hope flared and the mare sank to her belly and grovelled. "Master, I'm so very sorry, there was a horrible accident. Please forgive me, I beg you." Korn levered himself to a seated position, his gaze flicking from the pony to the patch of sticky red on his paw and back again. Strange sounds penetrated the mare's panic-fogged brain, short bursts of a deep rumbling gasp... wait, was that laughter?
"Korn--" The Master coughed, then winced, holding both paws up to his head. "--forgives. Korn should have woken the pony first." More laughter, followed by a groan as the Master climbed to his feet, using the wall for support. He rubbed the centre of his chest and shook his head, looking around the small chamber for the instrument he'd dropped. Seeing it in the corridor outside, he limped out to pick it up, then looked mournfully at it and gave it a shake. The sound of small loose components rattling about was clear in the quiet.
"Korn will have to dock the pony's pay," he muttered, stepping back into the room and carefully wiping the blood off the wall with the back of one arm.
But you don't pay us! Fusion wailed inside her head. "Sorry, Master," she said softly.
"Korn was jo..." He glanced around, flinching at the broken look on the Fusion's face. "Never mind. It was an accident, the pony will not be blamed."
"Thank you, Master."
"Has the pony eaten since it was picked up?"
"No, Master."
Korn nodded. "Eat and prepare yourself; Korn will get a new scanner and return in two kiloseconds. The pony is required at the accelerator four kiloseconds after that." He stepped through the doorway again and started to tap something on the wall outside but stopped, remembering the reason why he'd come down this early.
"Korn noticed that the pony didn't sleep well. Is there anything that will affect this pony's performance during the next experiment?"
Fusion opened her mouth then closed it again, wondering what to do. Salrath was undoubtedly a powerful Master and had a proven vindictive streak -- on the other hoof, so was Korn because of his connection to Vanca. Would telling him make things better for the foals or prompt an investigation into their families as some twisted form of vengeance?
She'd obviously taken too long to reply because Korn frowned at her. "The pony is ordered to tell this one why it could not sleep," he said impatiently.
In Fusion's shocked state, even though the coercion was gone, it was still far easier to obey than it was to make up a convincing lie. She hung her head and stared at the floor. "There was a group of twenty four foals from my corral at the training ground during the accident. They failed to identify the gryphon troops as Hive military and fought them. The security Agent said they w-would be interrogated then euthanized," she said in a trembling voice, the memories bringing forth tears that ran down her muzzle to drip on the floor. "I'm sorry Master, I can't stop thinking about that."
Korn stepped back in surprise, a stunned look on his face. "Impossible," he said in a firm voice. "That's five hundred megaseconds of the corral's output. No one would dare waste that many servitors."
Fusion raised her head to look at Korn, hope washing over her like a refreshing rain. "Master?"
"Korn is convinced of this. He will ask the true fate of the foals." He nodded, then closed the door on Fusion.
The mare climbed slowly to her hooves and stared at the featureless door, trembling slowly subsiding. Sighing heavily she went to the dispenser, kicked the trigger plate and watched as the integrated trough filled with a measure of brown pellets. Reaching forward, mouth half open, she hesitated. The smell of the synthetic food filled her nostrils and saliva started to fill her mouth, but the mare closed her jaw and slowly pulled back her muzzle from the inviting pile. With her newfound clarity Fusion thought back to the instructions -- drummed into every foal from the time they were weaned -- to have at least one meal of the Master's food everyday. Then she remembered the cravings she started to get if she left the meal a little late.
Suddenly suspicious, and now realising that not everything the Masters did was in a pony's best interest, she stared at the pellets and listened to the gurgle of her stomach. What else is in those things? she thought. Certainly essential supplements and probably things like antiparasiticals, but why the cravings and the instructions? It's not like they even taste very nice.
Thinking about it for a second she lowered her head again, telekinetically combing the mud from her fetlocks while pretending to eat. Fusion used as much magical force as she could justify, wincing as the mud pulled out clumps of fur, but hopefully hiding what she was actually doing from the room's thaumic sensors. She lifted the food pile out of the trough with the lightest magical touch she could manage, holding it under her chest and out of view of the ceiling camera. Shuffling backwards the mare straddled the dispose-all and performed her ablutions, then activated the fluidised bed while simultaneously dropping the uneaten pellets onto the gravel-like surface.
Still standing over it, she watched expressionless as the surface of the granular bed churned and boiled, pulling the uneaten food and her bodily wastes below its surface. The waste line was probably subject to chemical analysis, but hopefully this would confuse things enough to inject some reasonable doubt... Either way, Fusion thought, I'm not going to eat another mouthful of that stuff. She forced down her hunger and shunted the unnatural craving to the back of her mind, then paused, suddenly realising what she'd just done. For the first time in her life she'd actually disobeyed a direct order. The act, small though it was, was like a tiny ray of sunshine from an otherwise stormy sky.
I'm tired of being helpless.
===
Korn walked down the corridor towards the medical section's small equipment store, gait becoming more unsteady as a headache built and he started to feel nauseous. Waving away concerned looks and offers of assistance from a pair of technical personnel, he ducked inside the -- thankfully unoccupied -- store. Closing the door Korn sank gratefully to the floor in the darkness, leaning the side of his head against the wonderfully cool wall. A few precious seconds of peace and he started to feel much better, the pounding in his head fading to a more manageable ache.
Slowly getting up, Korn tapped a control on his bracer to activate its control surface, then used the dim light to navigate the packed shelves and collect an armful of medical supplies. Returning to the front of the room, he sat on the floor once more and started to rip open packages with one claw. "Two shots," he muttered, squinting at the writing on a tube of general pain killer, then opened his mouth and triggered the spray twice, thought about it for a second, then took two more. The liquid was cold and intensely bitter; grimacing he swallowed the nasty stuff, working his jaws to get rid of the taste.
"Korn really should see a medic," he muttered to himself, then shook his head. No matter the innocent explanation, there was no way he'd be able to protect the servitor from a stressful interrogation; Hive Security wasn't renowned for its subtle approach with the People, let alone any of the client species. If he went to a medic it would be reported, and only a claw-full of seconds would pass before it would be flagged for one of the Agents now crawling through the Institute. The pony's mental state seemed fragile enough without putting it through that... and Vanca wouldn't thank him for delaying the accelerator run.
Sighing, he opened the second pack and shook out a new medical scanner. Korn flicked the thing, a small box of electronics acting as an interface for the specifically doped rose quartz crystal it half surrounded, into life. He ran the scanner down his chest, the glittering crystal throwing little sparks of light across the dark shelves. A few more claw taps and his bracer popped up a model of his rib cage in miniature, zooming in showed the good news: nothing fractured. Praise the Maker, he thought, then did the same with the back of his head.
Again, no bone damage, but this time sections of the display flashed red as the basic medical software highlighted the minor sub-dermal injury he already knew about. Grunting in satisfaction he turned the scanner off, then used a pack of wipes to clean the blood from where he'd struck the wall. Next up was a tube of spray seal. Carefully parting the fur at the back of his head, he held the trigger down for a few seconds, then patted the fur back into a semblance of neatness before the transparent film had a chance to dry. With any luck it wouldn't be too obvious.
Feeling much better, head wound numbed by a double hit of pain killer and the local anaesthetic in the spray itself, he turned to the small wall screen next to the door. First things first, he thought, exiting the default inventory management menu and opening the medical centre's data system. A few more taps and he'd used Vanca's still active authorization to delete a chunk of data from the isolation room -- video, audio and chemical -- from when the servitor had struck him. He'd catch the full force of Vanca's anger for that, but the Academician had no love for Security and would back him up after he explained the circumstances. At least Korn hopes so, he thought glumly, tapping the execute command.
A few seconds more and he'd opened a link to the eugenics database, calling up a list of the last few batches of foals produced by corral twenty seven. Guessing at the age range, he scanned down the list, looking at the colour coded status flags. Most were green, but there was one group coloured amber with a scattering of red. Crap, Korn thought, under review with some already red flagged. Amber was bad enough; all those servitors would be separated from their parents and foal-mates, spread out across the re-education camps and under heavy restriction for the rest of their shorter than average lives. He chewed on one knuckle, then requested the reasons for the status changes.
"Requested by Hive Security due to potential WCSC section five violation," Korn muttered to himself, tracing the line of text with one claw. The World Court Security Council only concerned itself with controlling things that presented a global risk -- nothing as minor as nuclear weapons, unless used en masse. These were things like the Creation Stones with their rumoured power to reshape reality, ultra high energy thaumophysics experiments with the potential to change the vacuum energy state, or aggressively self replicating systems. Of all of them, Korn was most familiar with section five; this related to the servitors and anything that might cause them to become a problem.
"But that's stupid!" Korn exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be keeping this low key. There was nothing here that merited that level of attention; from what he'd deduced it had all been a stupid accident made by gryphon trainees. Although it makes a twisted kind of sense, the paranoid part of his mind whispered, World Court auditor teams can go anywhere. If Security thinks this event might attract attention to the Institute's work, they could justify euthanizing all the servitors involved just to cover it up. Korn grimaced, this was not what he'd expected at all. He killed the connection and started using Vanca's code to once again hide the evidence of his activities. Nothing he could do about the eugenics databases, but at least any investigation would dead-end at the border of the Institute's systems.
There was nothing for it; he'd have to lie to the servitor.
===
Korn burst into the control room at a trot, drawing hostile stares from the pair of Agents -- Salrath and one he now recognised as her personal assistant, Ilaniro -- waiting just inside the room. Korn ignored these glares with the long practice of someone used to dealing with the acerbic Vanca, hurrying through the otherwise empty room to speak with his supervisor.
"Korn apologies for the delay," he said, too quietly for the Agents to hear, "there was an accident. The servitor kicked me." Korn unconsciously rubbed his chest, casting a covert glance at the Agents.
Vanca followed his gaze, her eyes widening. "What!" she hissed fiercely.
Korn hurriedly waved a paw at the shocked Academician. "It was an accident. Korn was too close when it tried to get to its hooves." He trailed off into silence. Outside of the servitor's obvious distress, there was something odd about the incident, but he couldn't think what it was.
Vanca grunted, staring at Korn with narrowed eyes. "Vanca will want to talk about this at length later." Behind her, through the glass, a red light strobed once as a heavy door ground open. "Finally," she said as the white servitor walked into the chamber. Then releasing Korn from her hard gaze she spoke into her comms bracer. "The pony will stand on the pad."
"Yes, Master." The melodic voice from the ceiling speakers was calm, something that eased Korn's own anxiety.
"Academician, is there a problem?" Korn said, gesturing to the empty seats normally occupied by four of the Institute's technical staff.
"Korn might say that," Vanca said sourly, glaring pointedly at the two agents. The male, Ilaniro, looked uncomfortable, while Salrath just smiled unpleasantly back at the Academician. "In light of recent events, Security has decided that, until we can get higher clearances for the techs, they cannot be present during the tests."
...and our next slot on the accelerator isn't for another two megaseconds, Korn thought, then rolled his eyes. As if anyone could learn anything without analysing terabytes of data; the light show in the beam chamber wouldn't tell anyone anything. He looked thoughtfully around the room then shrugged. "The automatics are pretty good, it shouldn't cause any difficulties," he said.
Vanca turned back to Korn. "Good. Start at two percent. This time Vanca wants to get something from the high frequency gravity wave suite."
"Yes, Academician." Korn shifted uneasily. A signal from those sensors would go a long way to confirm some of the more exotic theories, but the predicted power levels... "What if the subject shows an... unusual response?"
"Vanca is counting on it. Korn will raise the power until this event is observed."
Korn whispered something into his bracer, then watched as Fusion Pulse lowered her head towards the beam aperture. Bright wisps of pink light coalesced along her horn, collecting in a brilliant pinpoint glare at its tip. A monstrous, distorted pony shadow flickered on the rear wall of the chamber. Korn eyed the particle count and thaumic index, then raised the shield around the servitor. One more check and he placed a paw around the panic switch, then typed a few more commands that started the automatic sequencer.
Through the window, in complete silence, a bar of lightning connected the beam aperture to the pony, passing through a carefully controlled opening in the shield. Computer screens flickered, displaying the briefest overview of the terabytes of data cascading from the multiplicity of sensors surrounding the chamber. Just before it struck the servitor, the lightning broke at an invisible surface and skittered, almost too fast to see, like a stream of water running over an egg. Korn nodded to himself, then glanced at Vanca.
"Power level?" the Academician asked absently, eyes on the light show around the servitor.
"Holding at two percent. Starting a one percent per twenty second ramp in three... two... one... now," Korn replied.
The lightning in the beam dump chamber was now casting actinic flashes over the control room's ceiling and was far too bright to look at directly. The computer reached a decision before Korn could issue any commands, closing the microlouvers built into the armoured windows. A low hum marked the movement of the heavier, radiation shielded, shutters closing on the other side of the glass. A series of electronic views lit up inside the now dark windows; a range of electromagnetic wavelengths, imaging particle sensors and a volumetric thaumetic grid. This last view -- a mostly dark cube containing a wire-frame outline of a servitor -- was what interested Vanca.
Korn flexed his paw around the panic switch, eyes moving from the thaumic to the optical view and back. The first showed almost nothing apart vague red glows centred on the pony's horn and wing leading edges. The second... Korn looked way quickly, feeling troubled. Despite his best efforts, his eyes kept being drawn back, back to that pain-lined face, every muscle visible under the fur. Tearing his gaze away he glanced at the power graph -- they were already higher than the first experiment, rapidly approaching the levels he'd calculated from the endurance test data.
He first noticed it on the video feed of the pony's face. The tense, taught muscles had relaxed, the fur was smooth and the eyes merely closed rather than squeezed shut... and where the eyelids met, was that light? Vanca's wordless shout jerked him back to the thaumic grid; here the small patches of red light had been replaced with spreading clouds of rainbow colours showing ever higher levels of magical power.
"What's that scale set to?" Vanca asked, eyes never leaving the thaumic sensor.
"Factor of eight per level," Korn replied in a dazed tone. His jaw dropped as he caught a glance of the wide angle camera view. "Academician, look!" He expanded that window to replace some of the others. On it the same egg-shaped bubble of lightning surrounded the pony, but now it was strangely truncated. That electric flicker wasn't flowing past the pony and on into the reinforced wall anymore, but actually curving inwards to strike its flared wings and dance along their leading edges.
===
True to his word, Korn had returned two kiloseconds later with a new scanner, then spent the rest of the time using it to inspect her wings and horn in minute detail. While he worked, Fusion could feel his eyes studying her, no doubt trying to asses her mental state. A few days ago she'd have straightened up, trying to look alert and ready for whatever her next task was, because this was obviously what the Master wanted to see. Now, however... it took no effort at all to let her true feelings show in limp wings and drooping ears. It must have had some effect, because as Korn worked Fusion noticed that he was becoming increasingly nervous, glancing repeatedly up at the ceiling camera.
Finally satisfied, Korn silently gestured her out of the room, and she followed him down the corridor towards the accelerator suite. Not the normal route, though; about halfway there Korn took a sharp turn down one of the maintenance passageways and away from the more populated main paths. Finally, at a point between the infrequent security cameras, he slowed to walk at her side.
"The foals from this pony's corral have been taken to the security facility near here for assessment," he said in a near whisper, not looking in the mare's direction.
"Yes, Master," Fusion said, letting the rest of the sentence hang unspoken. ...and after that?
The length of the silence grew as they walked, the sound of Fusion's hooves echoing loudly in contrast to Korn's near silent paw-falls.
They passed another junction and its attendant security monitors. A dozen paces later Korn spoke again. "After which they will all be released to their family units with the requirement of additional training."
Fusion's spirits rose and, for a few seconds, she felt an immense burden lift from her shoulders, until the analytical, paranoid part of her mind kicked in once more to whisper some distressingly plausible facts. She'd worked with Korn for megaseconds and, like Mach Front with the Security Masters, had paid close attention to everything he'd said and exactly how he'd said it. She'd listened while he'd been in conference with Vanca and taken voice calls at odd times with his on-and-off mate, Ithra. This had allowed her to develop an unconscious model of his real thoughts under the words he actually spoke -- the conversations with Ithra had been especially useful there! Nothing abnormal about that, of course, all ponies did it as a natural part of their desire to be the best possible servants and anticipate what a Master wanted.
What it meant was that she could easily tell when he was lying.
"Thank you Master, that's a great relief," Fusion said, lifting her head and injecting as much happiness into her voice as she could muster. The first part sounds true, she thought, but not the rest. So is it that he doesn't know or that he does and wants to cheer me up? It was certainly in his interest to keep her, well if not actually happy, at least functional, so the lie came as no real surprise. The question is, can I do anything about it? The thought shocked her so much that Fusion tripped over her own hooves and stumbled slightly, bumping into Korn in the narrow corridor.
"Apologies, Master, the floor here is a bit slick." The lie, minor though it was, rolled off her tongue with shocking ease.
"This is becoming a habit." Korn flashed her a smile. "No harm done." Despite this he lengthened his stride to walk ahead of her once more.
The mare nodded, deep in thought and not really listening to her Master for the first time ever. Her mind drifted back to the previous day and whatever she'd done to black out the training centre. Perhaps she could engineer a similar accident, enough damage might get her transferred to the same place, then... then what, exactly? She was hardly likely to be able to rescue the foals, and even if she did, what would she do with them and how would she keep them safe? The familiar feeling of helplessness welled up, only to be flushed away by a building anger.
I am very tired of being helpless.
She remembered standing outside the Church the first night after her accident, that ebon pyramid with its faces covered in the names of the corral's ponies. Little grooves in black stone, all that remained of the thousands of ponies that trotted willingly into the meat grinder that was the Master's service. Worse, before they had been ground up so fine that nothing of them remained, those ponies had paired up and lovingly born and trained their replacements, feeding them into the maw of the same uncaring machine. What would it take to save not just those twenty-four foals, but all ponies, everywhere? An idea took shape in Fusion's mind, tantalizing and frighteningly large.
In the silence of the empty corridor the mare's mind drifted over the list of near impossible things that would have to happen for that dream to become reality. Fusion knew her capabilities, knew she was magically strong even before the accident changed her. There was no doubt she could do an immense amount of damage if she chose to, but there was no way a single pony could ever hope to survive the full might of a Hive.
No single pony, Fusion repeated the thought, but what about a hundred, or a thousand? With enough ponies it would become too expensive economically or militarily to just exterminate them. That's it then. I need to remove the Blessing from as many ponies as possible, then convince them to help. Here Fusion's train of thought faltered as she remembered how hard it had been to reach that point even in her own mind. One thing at a time, she though firmly, first I have to free another pony. Now she had seen the Blessing cast, she was sure she could undo it. Uneasily she remembered those little twitches in the clever, nasty little spell, magical pulses in time with the recipient's heartbeat and breathing.
Without killing the pony, she thought, fear welling up once more. How did I survive that?
===
Finally, they reached the radiation lock and Korn sealed her in before loping off to join the Academician in the control room. The radiation lock was almost a quarter the size of the beam chamber, a squat cylinder with a single opening in its curved wall. This wall could rotate, bringing that opening in line with the exit corridor or the beam dump chamber itself. Not at the moment, though; it was at ninety degrees to both, showing only a blank wall.
A heavy vibration crept up through Fusion's hooves, shifting her weight uneasily she eyed the hazard notices cut into the floor and ceiling over the exit point, large red letters in a script she couldn't read. The pictograms were clear enough; jagged lightning bolts reaching out and felling a figure standing next to a stylised machine, while other figures were safe behind a thick wall. She shivered slightly and fixed her eyes on the slowly opening exit.
As before, the beam chamber was brilliantly lit, an eye-watering glare after the normal lighting in the lock. Fusion hesitated for a couple of seconds, squinting into the light to help her eyes adjust. Nostrils flaring, she caught the faint scent of burnt feathers and fur under the harsh odour of cleaning fluid. Opening her eyes and gritting her teeth, she lifted her head and stepped smartly into the room.
"The pony will stand on the pad." It was the same rough voice, same intonation and cadence. It might as well have been a recording.
"Yes, Master," Fusion replied, struggling to keep her voice smooth and even.
Past the glare, through the windows high up on the wall of the chamber, she could just see the shape of a Master turn away. The room was just as she remembered it; hulking machines surrounding a plain metal circle inset into the floor, just in front of a scarred ceramic wall. That wall... she could see the scorch mark more clearly now. It was distorted, a vague shadow of soot blasted into the matte finish ceramic. There was a central mass with four blurred pseudopods crawling from the lower edge, flanked with ghostly splayed wings and surmounted with a horned head. A rearing pony, wings flared and head pulled back, trying to escape in the last instant as her magic failed under the onslaught.
Fusion stepped into the metal circle and took one last look at the faint silhouette, then turned and placed her hooves on the marks. Her fear had disappeared along with all her vague and grandiose plans, melted away by the searing vision of the pony that she had replaced. In its place was a tightly controlled anger and a desire to make sure no other pony would end up as nothing more than a shadow on a wall. Lowering her head she started to call up her magic, trying to remember what had happened during the endurance test.
Uneasily, she listened to the rising thrum of the accelerator ring. Already it was far louder than she remembered from the first test; the beast not stomping but galloping towards her. Gritting her teeth, she poured power into her magic, weaving the tightest shield she could manage. She'd made mistakes last time, but pain and failure were great teachers. She wouldn't make them again.
The beam came on with a snapping hiss, the bar of solid lightning breaking apart a hoof's width in front of the tip of her horn to enfold her in a globe of lightning. Eyes shut against the actinic glare and ears folded against the noise, Fusion felt the pressure build again, but this time it was more distant, more diffuse. She fought to keep the lightning away from her body, forcing the sphere of magic out with as much concentration as she could muster.
This is okay, she thought, I can cope with this.
The breath wheezed out of her as the pressure rose sharply, the ball suddenly crushed in the fist of some enraged monster. Fusion's mind whited out for a second under the strain, thoughts dissolving in a red mist of pain as every muscle tensed in a useless effort to bolster her defences. Her shield started to come apart, the tight weave of magics unpicked by kilolengths of machinery all focused down to a single point. Through the haze in her mind she suddenly remembered that odd sensation from back in the training ground. A pin-point of warmth, somehow pleasant even in the blast furnace heat of the lab. It was impossibly bright and powerful but very far away, somewhere high over her head. Desperate, and in a way she didn't fully understand, she reached for it.
Something answered.
Cold shards of knowledge trickled into her mind, perfectly clear despite the static that invaded the rest of her thoughts. If she did this then that and focused her power here... Everything -- the agony, the heat, the pressure and electricity of the lab -- abruptly faded, almost as if somepony had put a wing between her and a gale. The tension bled out from her muscles and the mare nearly collapsed with the absence of pain.
Fusion opened her magic senses and gasped at the unexpected clarity of her surroundings. Normally she'd only be able to perceive magically active objects -- powered gems, the horns and wings of ponies and so on -- everything else being blackness and vague shadows. Now it was like everything in the beam dump chamber was glowing with its own light, each colour somehow reporting intimate details about each object she inspected. Stranger still, Fusion could see not only the outsides but also the insides of whatever she focused on. The safety field that enclosed her was a hazy half sphere that made no difference at all to the crystalline purity of her vision.
She shifted her point of view further and further, past the bulky sensors and other machines in the chamber and off along the long tunnel of the accelerator itself. Inspecting the vast, complicated mechanism she realised for the first time that she could feel the individual firing pulses of the capacitors and tailored momentum transfer crystals. Events that should have been occurring thousands of times a second were clearly distinguishable as the rapid beating of a heart.
Maybe it's not slow, but I'm fast, Fusion realised in a sudden flash of insight.
The mare changed her view point to look back at herself. The rapid, stroboscopic flicker of the particle beam with its invisibly fast spider crawl of lightning was replaced with a cool white jet, snaking over her shield with all the speed of syrup. Her own body... she glowed with the extreme brilliance Gravity had described, a pony somehow built of light. That wasn't all; her mane and tail streamed backwards like they were caught in a gentle breeze -- despite the fact that she was hundreds of bodylengths underground. They also appeared to have changed colour; no longer just pink, but shot through with green and blue and appearing to have fuzzy, ill-defined edges. Almost if they weren't hair at all.
Fusion stared at herself for a moment, unsure of what to make of these changes, then turned her attention back to the accelerator.
Academician Vanca wants to see something big, does she?
She cast her mind out once more, flying inside the massive circular tunnel housing the accelerator. As expected, it was deserted apart from a single maintenance pony conducting running repairs on one of the multitude of cryogenic systems supporting the superconducting magnets. If Fusion had eyes she would have narrowed them; while the accelerator was operating the radiation levels inside the tunnel were far too high for anything more than the briefest visit, and even then... The casual brutality, the sheer waste of one of her own kind that could have been prevented by delaying this experiment, removed any lingering doubts she had.
Let's see how long they continue this without their sensors!
That same unknown source of knowledge answered her again, new memories appearing in her mind like they had always been there, a certainty that if she did this and this she'd have enough strength to do that. Behind this was arrayed a whole list of other things she could do, and somehow she knew that all it would take would be an instant's focus... It was all so obvious, even restricted by the chamber's own field from gathering enough environmental energy, she still had all the power she needed, supplied by the very machines arrayed against her. Fusion Pulse opened her wings and let the full output of the accelerator ring flow into a deep, distant reservoir that was somehow hidden inside her body.
Fusion Pulse felt for the rhythmic heartbeat of the accelerator's systems and started to follow it, pushing her own magical output into synchronisation with all those cubic kilolengths of machinery. A few more seconds and she was ready. She fed the power into her shield, so much energy that the normally invisible magic started to leak out as a halo of rainbow light. It felt like she was inhaling without stopping, expanding until she might fly apart. All of this was done with care; at these power levels short lived spells could start spalling off the shield with highly unpredictable results. She suddenly had a flash of understanding for what Animal Scanner must have thought was happening to her yesterday. It must have been like standing next to an unshielded reactor.
Fusion turned her head up towards where the control room was and opened her eyes to stare at the blank, armoured shutters. A seemingly endless second later the beam current started to drop, dimming the lightning's actinic brilliance.
Too late, Fusion thought with cold satisfaction, then released all her stored power in a single pulse.
I will not be helpless any more.
The brutal whiplash of thaumoelectric energy rippled out at a rate just visible to the naked eye, passing through the chamber's force field like it wasn't there, through the waiting instruments and out into the Institute. In its wake, delicate arrays of magically active gems went inert, computers reset and power systems failed, as induced voltages blew every safety device within a kilolength.
===
The hackles rose on the back of Korn's neck; that was impossible! Where was all that power going? He leaned forward in fascination, running a claw along one image as if to confirm it was real. Waves of colour were rolling down the servitor's mane and tail, both of which appeared to be rippling in some strange wind. The thaumic grid had almost completely saturated and the servitor was shining like a pony shaped star, partially hidden by a rapidly materialising shell of yet more light. Turning from this now useless sensor, Korn looked at the optical view.
This wasn't much better. The lightning flicker of the particle beam flooded the room with stroboscopic pulses of brilliance; even though the video feed was being piped from military grade cameras and run through a serious amount of post-processing, the view was poor. Korn could barely make out the servitor, what with the random sparkles of light, heat-haze like distortions, complete dropouts and a really weird shell of rainbow light around the quadrupedal form.
"Academician," Korn said, glancing over at his supervisor. "Korn thinks the experiment should be stopped. The power levels..." Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the Hive security Agents lean forward, looking very nervous at the light show, paw uselessly gripping his firearm. What in the Maker's name does he think he's going to do with that? Korn thought.
"Nonsense! " Vanca snapped back, face bathed in the flickering glow of her own instrument panel. "This data is priceless! Maintain the power curve."
Korn switched back to the optical view just in time to see the creature turn its head to look up at the cameras. Then it opened its eyes.
Light. No pupil, no iris, just pure, white light, like staring at the heart of the sun.
Korn's jaw dropped and his hackles rose all the way down to his stubby tail. Reflexively he released the panic switch to kill the beam. "Korn can get another supervisor," he muttered. Or train as a food preparer for the teeming masses in the Hive's lower levels, anything as long as it isn't here, he thought. Korn then had just enough time wonder if the room's shielding would hold against what was obviously an immense thaumic excursion, when the rainbow bubble exploded outwards.
So fast that afterwards he was half convinced he had imagined it, Korn saw that rainbow shimmer blow out from the servitor and pass right through the shielded wall, himself and off into the rest of the complex. Behind it was left chaos and total darkness, filled only with curses and the smell of burning insulation.
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Well, that's it for the Diamond Dogs. Fusion Pulse has just found the Sun, and how to tap into it for real, ultimate power. Not even Korn has an idea of just how big trouble they all now are!
I don't think I need to say it, because it's pretty dang obvious, but ....
SHIT JUST GOT REAL!!!!!!!
Ascension.
Thaumic excursion? Sounds like someone's going on a magical holiday! (to the moon)
Poor Korn. Show a little empathy and concern, next thing hit in the face with an evolutionary step-change. Oh, well.
Seems to me that Fusion Pulse is rapidly becoming Princess Celestia...
And Celestia FINALLY wakes up! Praise the Pattern!
Let the games begin...
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No amount of weapons will help them, but they can try...
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Harmony, is about to lay down a bit of kick-ass on all those Diamond Dogs. I expect the elements of creation will be involved at some point in the not to distant future.
Now all she needs is a pair of sunglasses, a trench coat, and a phone. The matrix is about to change...
Shouldn't that be "diffused"?
Should be "teeming"
The Masters have turned a slave into a goddess. Oops?
And so a god is born.
The artist soon to be known as Celestia is about to FUCK. UP. EVERYONE!
And then Fusion Pulse said "No I am the celetia!" and then she was Celestia
Awesome.
Those are words that can move mountains... or level them in this case.
1407837 you think that was Harmony? I'm guessing it was the other guy.
I hope Korn is a good guy. A sympathiser or something.
:jawdrop: :applause:. Don't know if words can describe this.
Wait... if Fusion is Celestia, and Luna is Celestia's sister... does this mean that Gravity is Luna?
It's disturbing that while Fusion seems to know what she needs to do (free other ponies from the Blessing) she doesn't yet know how to do it, and yet she's acted out. It speaks well of her, that the casual destruction of her kin (on top of all the other wrongs the Masters have done or she suspects them doing) pushed her to react like that, but it's still worrying and a little foolish.
Calling her situation 'precarious' is a bit of an understatement, though. And I can't help but think that juxtaposing this event with the prologue discussing Discord's origin is no accident. Chaos is being unleashed.
1408728
You're right about "teamed/teemed". "Diffuse", OTOH, can be an adjective.
(Once a beta-reader, always a beta-reader, I suppose! )
*fist pump* WOOHOO! This story just keeps getting better.
1411985
Knowing the end makes this story even more disturbing. Sure, sure, she wipes these fuckers back to the stone age... But, her entire race is apparently wiped out as well. I'm betting she creates ponykind with the Creation Stones, but is unable to recreate her own people. Hence, she and Luna are alone forever.
Bummer, dude.
Also willing to believe she creates Discord by mistake. Calling it now!
1412276
That's what I was thinking when I first read the word "Creation Stone" a stone so powerful that it could rewrite reality. I suddenly thought, "uh oh, this will definitely be used later in the story."
And so we now know how Celestia has gained her current form.
1412276
I am still hoping for some sort of devolution to occur rather than near-genocide because I don't like mass murder, it is...sad.
1414573
The creation stones are almost certainly the Elements of Harmony, given how they've been referred to in various ways up till now.
And then Celestia's Power Level was over 9,000.
Love love love the jargon in this. It practically bleeds tech.
The return to the initial view of the story has been eye-opening, and I love seeing the growth of Fusion. She's changed so much, in so little time.
I'm very interested in what happened to her sister though... when will she finally break free from the 'Blessing', and how will she ascend? Will she follow in the hoofsteps of her sister?
...Can't wait to find out.
1408728>>1412230
Well spotted, thanks. 'Diffuse' is correct but I've fixed 'teaming'; curse you English and your homophones!
1411985
Correct, of course. What she should have done was be a good little filly and just follow orders.
1408152
You have my sympathies, more so when you reach the end and realise you're going to have to wait about a month for the next chapter...
1407158
Glad you like it! I will endeavour not to disappoint.
1417026
Hopefully the jargon isn't too dense (with the exception of the magic it's all as close to 'real science' as I can manage), I try to explain as much as possible without turning it into a lecture. The slightly worrying thing is I've got a spreadsheet to calculate the maximum energy available to each of the Sisters, for when things really heat up (Luna is easy; I know the mass and orbital velocity of the moon. Celestia is more tricky as I'm not using a star as the power source...). Don't worry, I won't be sharing that!
To everyone else: thanks for commenting, I really appreciate it.
Hot damn. For the sake of 24 foals the seeds of a revelation are planted.
That wall with the blast shadow.
She just called on the power of the Sun, didn't she. And now the full output of the particle accelerator beam. Holy shit.
Chills man, I'm feeling nothing but chills right now.
"kilolengths"? Should I assume a length is a meter?
In any case, fuck yeah. Fusion is best particle cannon. I can't help but feel sorry for Korn, though. He was actually a decent guy. I should've known he was going to die when you started from his point of view. (Which was, by the way, quite fascinating.)
Eagerly looking forward to more. Especially when Fusion starts teaching the trick of drawing mana from the environment.
Mwahaha.
1419857
Thanks, glad you are enjoying it!
1424898
I've read that bit maybe two dozen times or more, it still makes me choke up a little (which sound odds, considering I wrote it - guess I'm a little invested in the characters).
1428395
That was loosely explained back in CH01; one length is 'the height of an average Master'. Using some of the fandom's height estimates for a pony as ~1m, I guessed a DD at ~2m high. I probably should have stuck to normal units; it was only through an effort of will I avoided using invented time and mass units (which would have been needlessly confusing, ie dumb).
I did enjoy writing Korn's POV - it still makes me smile when I think about his wake-up alarm!
1418155
If I had complaints about the jargon, I wouldn't be reading the story. Honestly it makes the experience much more immersive than it would otherwise be, and adds greatly to the flavor and texturing of the narrative. It tends to evoke Neil Stephenson's style of great but important detailing that fits with the overarching theme of the work.
Because brevity is nice: (TLDR) The 'techiness' of the story is awesome and beneficial.
(And if you really are calculating the power available to each of the sisters to use, I must applaud your dedication to the story. I can't wait for the next installment, mate.)
Sweet, felt like looking at this to see if anything new went up! I'm here 2 days late, but I'll have to read the newly posted chapter tonight...
Hmm. why am I not surprised that I have an order of cables to build... Again... Meh, I can take the time to read this.
Redux huh? Yeah Fusion... You show 'em your power...
If there is only one thing wrong with your story... it's that it's not as well known as it deserves to be. SPREAD THE WORD, everypony!
Needs moar thumbs of the ascending orientation!
LOL... I keep my trusty Commodore N-60 with me for this story.
I can punch in the metric oriented time system and it'll give me H-M-S results! dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/Luna_lolface.png
It's a little quicker than trying it on my abacus! dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/shrug_Luna_apple.png
Don't do pellets foals. Just say no! Pellets are BAD, m'kay.
Also... Manures 'bout to hit the fan!!!
I so want to hug glowy, light show pony!
She's so adorably OP right now!
Kick some master flank, Fusion!
...
Speaking of manure...
Very creative concept for your pony toilet.
We have a fluidizing bed where I work. Really weird to see it in action. Off, it looks like a common container filled with fine powder. On, and the powder flows freely like a liquid. We use it to bond and insulate laminated stator and rotor stacks for electric motors. We heat the pre-bonded stacks in an oven, and once they reach a set temp, we dunk them in the fluidized powder, and the powder melts to the surface on contact. Temp determines how thick the powder coat ends up being, so we keep it pretty precise. Pretty cool watching a powder flow like liquid!
Never imagined using one as a toilet though...
1448095
)?
Three posts - perhaps you should consider switching to decaff (or stop channeling Pinkie
Ah yes, the literary groundbreaking 'pony goes to the toilet' scene. I was quite frankly surprised not to get more comments about that one... I've never seen a fluidized bed 'live', only on video (and I agree, they certainly look cool). The coating application is interesting - I've only ever come across them in bulk chemical processing.
A Commodore N-60? That thing is almost as old as I am! If you are doing the calculations, then you'll know my estimate of the flight speed of an unladen pony (or am I the only one who reaches for a calculator whenever numbers come up in a story?).
Are masters diamond dogs? I always thought of them as humans far in th future, and diamond dogs possibly being another species created by "masters" to dig up their priceless energy source (gems).
1456506
I never explicitly say so, but yes, DDs are the 'Masters'. The key description is way back in CH01, that and a few hints along the way. No humans (the horror!).
Really interesting to see where things are going. I'm going to love to see how Fusion Pulse next performs an act that will eventually name her as Celestia.
"Dear
Fusion PulsePrincess Celestia,I bet you can't undo a giant system that is continually and wantonly abusing it's power, all while scarring the subjugated masses it holds that power over.
Your Faithful Reader,
Lesolan"
Dear Lesolan,
i.neoseeker.com/mgv/574321-Liege/321/91/130615168634_display.jpg
1474370
Thanks!
Actually that is supposed to be 'dived', although I can see why it might cause confusion (probably should have used 'stooped' instead, although that is a falconry term and not the common definition of the word). Gunnulf isn't used to hunting his own food, so doesn't quite realise how wide a field of view things like rabbits and ponies have.
I'll add it to my 'list of things to look at' - I'm currently recording the first few chapters as an audiobook and it's amazing how long that list is getting!
Thoroughly enjoying this so far. I was hesitant about the whole 'tech and ponies' thing at first, but you've managed write a sci-fi prequel to a fantasy setting in a way that's not just believable, but fascinating. Your world building is great and I found myself invested in the characters, even before I had a moment of fridge logic and realized who they were. I also think you've handled the scientific jargon quite well - It's simple enough to understand but complex enough that my brain automatically goes "Yup, that's science."
One question about the 'Masters': How closely do they resemble the canon D-Dogs? I've been imagining them as taller and thinner then the canon ones, basically a build closer to humans, with the modern day D-Dogs being a kind of evolutionarily regressed version.
Also Fusion is best pony. dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/lolface_Celestia.png
1486453
Thanks, you've made my evening!
The Masters are based off the green eyed DD ('Rover'), although not so long in the arm. More similar to a bipedal spotted hyena (so yes, a more even build than in the show, as well as a more upright stance). Rule of Funny applies to the cartoon, so I tried to take it a step in the direction of biological realism. Interesting comment about modern (show/ canon) DDs, I hadn't really thought about it before but after rewatching Dog and Pony Show it almost looks like they are two distinct species. Hmmm...
A question for you: at what point did the identity of the main characters 'click'? If you missed the clues in chapters 1&2 there really isn't much more to go on until chapter 10.
1493152
The characters clicked when I was halfway through chapter 3. I wasn't actually reading through, I was on a bus at the time. This story popped into my mind and I thought of Fusion's white and pink colouring. Because I have the mentality of a 5 year old the first thing I thought after that was "Haha, just like Princess Molestia." Then some gears ground in my head and I realised she had a younger sister who was a navy blue alicorn with a crescent moon on her flank. And then I felt stupid.
NOOOOOOO! I procrastinated reading chapter 10 all day, because I knew once I did I wouldn't have any more buffer to read (not wanting to read something so you don't run out of that something to read doesn't make any sense, I know)! I can't continuuuuuuueeeeeeee
GOD THIS IS SO GOOD.
[Edit] And I love that the sun and moon are named Celestia and Luna first. I also love that there's more than one moon. There most certainly isn't more than one in the canon show. Something epic's gonna' happen.
[Edit 2] I just remembered, too — the bit about The Pattern at the beginning of this chapter left me a tad confused. Was it implying that the part of itself The Pattern left behind became Discord or that the low-intellect mechanism The Pattern had built became Discord (I don't think that's it), or was it saying Discord came from somewhere else and it just flew over my head?
1503171
You have my sympathies, and I understand completely.
I guess it's pretty obvious what Chaos is supposed to be, huh? Actually your option 2 is the closest: DIscord is the 'ghost in the machine', where the machine is the stuff the Pattern left behind to allow its 'descendants' to have some control over reality (ie do magic). So the automata do the actual grunt work of magic and Discord is a product of all those interactions. I'm not sure that explanation helps very much!
1504559
Other than that, I'm pretty sure I understand what you're saying. If we equate what allows organics to alter reality to some sort of 'magic factory', then Discord would be the 'chemical waste' the Pattern didn't anticipate?
I was under the impression that the part of itself the Pattern left behind and the extra-dimensional machinery it created to allow it's 'descendants' to use 'magic' were two different, unrelated things.
Luke, did you hear that?
What, Master Kenobi?
I heard a great disturbance. It sounded as though every single Diamond Dog suddely shit their pants.
1507020
Late reply is late. Yes, that's a good way of thinking of it.
Can I just say that this is the most utterly terrifying story I've read on Fimfiction so far? It's not just creepy, it also tickles that bit of your brain that wonders whether or not The Matrix really was a story. Most people don't really develop it, yeah? But the sheer freakiness involved in extrapolating what it would mean if it was TRUE is bad enough. THEN you throw in the dystopian horror aspect and *low whistle* that shit is SCARY.
I think you may have blown your cover, Fusion.
Maybe not, though. It's hard to predict what they're going to think happened.
And THAT'S how Equestria was made!