Thirteen: A Game Of Pones
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T H E C O N V E R S I O N B U R E A U
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RECOMBINANT 63
By Chatoyance
Chapter Thirteen: A Game Of Pones
"You have GOT to be kidding me!" Petrichor was upset, her wings flapping as she stomped around the main room. "That guy was totally incompetent! If I'm going to be stalked and menaced in my own muffin' apartment, I expect better chocolate swirling professionalism from my threateners! I mean REALLY!" Pet finished this outburst with a sharp stomp of her hoof, which made Ladybug Summer in the apartment below give the ceiling a whack with her broom. "sorry..." whispered Petrichor to nobody.
Paige and Inkwell stared at Pet, briefly, for the strange sentiment.
"Alright, we are clearly in danger now, somebody is after us, and..." Paige was hushed up with a gentle hoof over her mouth. Petrichor, who was about to bellow another rant - having thought of another objection regarding the behavior of Cloudypuff Moonypants the earthpony heavy - caught on and fell silent too. Inkwell removed her hoof and waved it over her muzzle, indicating that nopony was to discuss things further.
Inkwell waved her hoof to the corner by the couch. "Pet? Paige?" Her voice was casual as she could make it "Would you mind checking out the corner there? I thought I saw a spider, and I am soooo scared of spiders!" she wiggled her ears and pointed repeatedly with her hoof. Paige and Petrichor gave her an odd look, but remained silent and moved to the designated part of the apartment.
A glow began covering Inkwell's horn. Suddenly a blob of telekinetic light expanded in the air in front of the ivory unicorn. The mass of thaumatic force moved to the low dining table and began sweeping it, until it had covered every portion. She paid special attention to the carbofiber case that held the emergency ponification serum. Inkwell kept her concentration going as she used her hornfield to scan the lamps, the overhead light, the bookshelf and most of the couch, though she was careful to avoid allowing it to approach too closely to Paige.
Paige and Petrichor watched this, confused. "Inkwell?" Paige began, but a sharp motion of Ink's foreleg bid her to be quiet.
The rippling blob of glowing energy settled on the floor of the apartment, and began sweeping in curving arcs from where Inkwell stood, moving outward toward the now closed door. As the searching glow passed over the area where Cloudypuff had been sitting and rummaging in his saddlebags, tiny bright flashes, like miniscule sparks, pipped and popped audibly.
Inkwell stopped her scanning and flattened her hornfield, making of it a puddle as she had when she had lifted water from the kitchen floor. She began moving the puddle of light in larger and larger circles, causing more and more little popping flashes. A smell of ozone began to irritate Petrichor's delicate pony nose.
Inkwell followed the trail of flashes and pops to the door, then searched with her telekinetic field the areas near the doorway, then the door itself. Inkwell finished by sweeping the walls and a bit more of the floor beyond where Cloudypuff had sat. Finally she seemed satisfied. "OK... I think it's safe. We can talk freely, at least I am pretty sure."
Paige and Petrichor moved to her and sat down with her on the floor. "What... what did you just do? What's going on?" Paige still had 'Lil Slugger', which she finally put down on the floor and released. She flexed her brown fingers and rubbed them, she had been clutching the bat with all of her might.
"Smart Dust. Cloudypuff must have had his saddlebag stuffed with Smart Dust. Yeah... it makes sense. It makes sense now." Inkwell stared into some distance only she could see.
"Inks, mind filling us in? What is Smart Dust - those sparks? They smell like broken electronics or something." Petrichor wrinkled her muzzle, unhappy with the scent of ozone in the air.
"I read a lot." Instantly Inkwell thought better of that statement, but carried on "...basically, Smart Dust is little machines that act like tiny radios. They're listening devices, spy gadgets. They're so tiny that just one is useless, but if a lot of them are scattered over an area, they network and act like a big ear, catching soundwaves sort of like receiver dish. I figured there would be bugs or something but... I couldn't find anything anywhere else in the room. Just the stuff he spread when he dug around in his bag - remember when he made all the fuss about not having hands, rooting around in his saddlebag?"
"How... how did you know to even look for stuff like that? How did you know how to bust it?" Paige was imagining that Inkwell was some fancy super agent in disguise all this time.
"I didn't. Not really." Inkwell grinned sheepishly. "I... just sort of figured that... OK. Cloudypuff storms in here, right, and he puts on this big crazy show, making it completely clear that he's a Newfoal. But what's really odd is that he doesn't even TRY to pretend that he is what he claims to be. He wanted us to know he was an altered pony, a genetically altered pony, like all the rumors about what the Worldgovernment tried to do. You know, they say that's how the PER got started!" Inkwell became excited, because she was on a roll.
"And that's not all - he deliberately messed up the name for the PER - I don't think he said it right once - Ponification for the Earth's Rebirth. It was like 'Renewal' and 'Restoration' and I don't know what all. He tried to make it seem like he was incompetent, but Cloudypuff is not the least bit incompetent. You wanted a professional, Petrichor, you got one, really!"
"Really???" Petrichor was clearly very doubtful.
"Oh... I am convinced of it. He's a pro. At whatever it is that he does... and whatever that is, it is NOT nice." Inkwell looked momentarily upset. "SO - he made a point of swearing, a LOT. Ponies don't do that, at least not that way, because, well... we get hypertrophied compassion and empathy. It just... feels really icky to even think of yelling real expletives at somepony because..."
Pet leapt in "Yeah... because it might hurt their feelings. I used to swear like a sailor, just ask Paige..."
"Oh, she had a mouth on her, that one. Especially when she messed up skateboarding. Lord, did she have a foul mouth on her. Took me a while to get used to all the candy and dessert references after she converted, to be honest." Paige gave Pet a few ear scratches.
"I... just don't want to be that way anymore. I could, I suppose, if I really, really tried... but why would I want to? It would just hurt somepony, and I don't want to do that. But cloudybottom there... he was really..." Pet's muzzle looked like she had tasted something awful.
"Exactly!" Inkwell grinned "He swore to make sure we knew he wasn't right, and the swearing was threatening to us, he knew it would bother ponies, and he did it deliberately. He was letting us know that he was dangerous. That he could do bad things, that he could do really bad things that ponies can't do!"
"So, what about all the little spy gadgets?" Paige was still secretly hoping Inkwell would turn out to be a super secret agent and save the day.
"Oh... I figured that if Cloudypuff was a genetic agent - and I found out he definitely was, I'll tell you how in a moment - I reckoned that there would be bugs and stuff. I was expecting bugs in the lamps and behind the bookcase and in the sofa, you know? But then I swept the floor. It IS the big age of nanotech, right? So I swept the floor and whoo! Did you see all the sparks - well, yes, of course you did, but wow... it really worked, didn't it?"
"Worked?" Paige was losing hope that their family had a secret James Bond.
"Magic kills electronics! That was one of the biggest reasons why I hadn't already converted - I felt I needed to use computers and holographic displays to be a good librarian and do my work. I figured that if I converted, either I would become the sort of pony who couldn't work tiny keys or little iconobjects, or else I would end up a unicorn - Ta Dah!!! - and everything I tried to work would short out. It struck me that I didn't need to be a posh unicorn with fancy spells to disable spy stuff. All I had to do was just burn it out with my horn field, and it worked! Just like magic!" Inkwell grinned "Because... it basically is... magic. But the point is, it proves he's a professional!"
Petrichor scratched her poll with a hoof. "Wait, why? Because he has spy stuff?"
"No... well, yeah, that's part of it, sure. But the real deal is how blatant he was. He deliberately gave himself away to us, just stuck it in our faces. And that tells me what he, and whoever is behind him, must think of us, you see!" Inkwell had a very smug look on her face.
"Wait... Inks, I am getting confused. Maybe you'd just better spell it out for us clearly, alright?" Paige looked impatient and uneasy, which was only reasonable, really.
"Sorry..." Inkwell shifted how she was sitting "I think mister Cloudypuff is a gene-freak pony, one that has the body of a pony, but the brain of a human. Only he's not like the ones they claim started the PER. I don't think Cloudypuff serves Celestia in some twisted way. I think he is against Celestia, and the Bureaus and everything. He isn't a pony. He isn't even alive."
"Uh... what? You have really lost me now." Paige began grooming Petrichor's mane as they sat.
"I really, really studied that pony when he first came in. What I did was, I sent just a little magic into him. Not a lot, I tried to keep my horn from glowing too obviously, just a touch, right? And there was nothing in there. Nothing. He was as empty as a hu... um... well..." Inkwell looked at Paige with a troubled expression. "That stuff you hear from medical unicorns, like Ace, downstairs? It's true. Cloudypuff looks like a pony, but he doesn't sound or act like one, and he doesn't have a... a soul."
"Seriously? Hey... I did see you staring at him. Really intently. That was when you did it, isn't it?" Petrichor was impressed and a little disturbed. "You... you never said you could see magic inside living things. You should have told us!"
Inkwell looked down at her hooves. "Sorry. I... I guess... It was kind of special, and it's kind of intimate, and I felt weird about it to be honest. I didn't mean to figure out how. I mean, Ace didn't show me or anything. It just happened. A few days ago. I've been playing with my hornfield a lot lately, you know? And I've been using it on a lot of stuff... including... me... and... you two as well... and..."
"Oh... ho ho ho! I get it!" Petrichor laughed in delight "Three nights ago - Paige! Remember when I practically woke up the building because she was using her magic inside me? Oh, that was a-maz-ing! So, when you were doing me, you saw, didn't you? You saw my... you saw my soul, didn't you?" The look on Pet's muzzle was awe.
Inkwell blushed. "Yeah." She smiled "It was incredible, Pet. I could sense your body, inside and out, and then all of a sudden there was this other layer. It was like... I don't know how to describe it.... OK. Imagine that everything you can see and know is flat, like a sheet or a flat screen, right? And material things are images on the surface. But some of the images are 3D, they stick up, like a bas-relief, they aren't flat. Now make that all magic and glowy and filled with streaming ribbon-like stuff that is really complicated and swirling like... like blood vessels only... more orderly. More deliberate, like they were meaningful. Oh, and colors. That's what it was like, only... in a direction you can't point. It's kind of hard to describe."
"And that is what mister poopypants lacked, is that what you are saying?" Paige had her head resting on her hands, her elbows on her knees as she sat tailor-fashion.
"Yes! Exactly!" Inkwell looked proud as she smiled at Paige, and then looked a little sad, and looked down again.
"Same as me, right?" Paige sat up straight. "That's why... that's why you didn't say anything about learning how to see this stuff. And that's why you've been a little skittish around me for the past few days, isn't it? You tried to hide it, but I could tell something was wrong. I thought I'd made you mad. Earth life doesn't have magic. So I just look... empty to you, don't I?"
Inkwell stared at her hooves. Her ears were flat against her skull.
"You learned how to do that when Petrichor broke the sound barrier and woke up half the building, and that was why you were kind of moody after, and we couldn't figure it out... damn." Paige sighed. "You didn't say anything because there wasn't anything to do about it. It's OK, Inks, come on... come here, that is, if you can stand being hugged by a flat thing?"
"Always, Paige! Always! I'm sorry!" Inkwell scooted over to Paige and the two embraced. Paige waved a hand to Petrichor who joined in, for one big group hug.
"Hey, we have potion now. So, we can solve that problem! Paige, you could go pony, right now and..." Petrichor was excited - finally their hopes had been fulfilled!
"No." Paige's voice was hard. "No. I can't. Not now, not yet. Somebody needs to stay human and feral in this family. Poopypants is dangerous, and I bet he wasn't kidding about having backup. One of us needs to be able to use Lil Slugger if it comes to it, or worse, if necessary." Paige set her jaw. "We're still on human turf. We need at least one human to deal with human stuff, and that's me."
Paige suddenly turned her head to look at Inkwell, in her arms. "Inks - if poopyhead has backup, why aren't they here, right now, busting us up and applying the clamps?"
"Because they think we're more than we are." Inkwell pulled away and looked at her spouses. "That's why Cloudypuff acted the way he did. He made no attempt to try to fool us, he was very clear about what he was, and what he was capable of. If he'd thought we were just ordinary ponies, he would have tried to play the proper part of a PER knight - he would have been very nice, very pleasant. I have no doubt he could do just that. I bet he can be very charming, and put on an act when he wants to. But he didn't. He let us know."
"I'm not getting this. It still seems sloppy to me." Petrichor got up to double check that the door was locked. They hadn't used the lock in at least a year. With the city almost all ponies, it hadn't been an issue.
"He didn't think we would have the notebook here." Inkwell nodded toward the bedroom, where the notebook lay open on the bed. "I'm positive he reckoned we have it stashed somewhere, hidden, and his group wants that book. If they just swarm us, they would never find out where it is. It would be lost to them."
"Yeah... that means they're smart. So we aren't dealing with dumb people here." Paige nodded. "He was spooking us. That was his angle. To spook us."
"Wait! Why does any of that make that pony smart? Why wouldn't it still be better to capture us and... do... bad... stuff... until we talked?" Petrichor shivered slightly.
"That never works, Pet. Only stupid or sick groups torture." Inkwell had trouble saying the last word. She seemed momentarily fascinated by that fact.
"It's true, Pet. Torture never works." Paige stretched out her legs, because they were starting to fall asleep. "If you get tickled, just relentlessly tickled, what will you do to make it stop, what would you say?"
Petrichor thought for a moment. "Anything?"
"Exactly! You'd say anything to stop the tickling. Anybody would." Paige rested her self on her arms, leaning back. "That's why torture is pointless. You can never get anything useful by torturing anyone. It's always in doubt, because people in pain will always say anything at all to stop the pain. You can tell the moment a civilization or oldstyle nation or group has lost any reason or moral credibility the moment they sanction torture. That's the indication a society has failed, right there."
"Why do they do it at all then, if it is completely useless?" Petrichor was confused.
"Um... well... " Paige studied the wall. "How do I put this - if a society becomes corrupt enough, the most twisted and sick people rise to the top. A human society, obviously. Really twisted humans have... really evil kinks. They... have fetishes, sexual fetishes that revolve around pain and power, and when things fall apart that far, the twisted people in power arrange to have their needs met... under the guise of things like national security or defense or protecting secrets or whatever they can sell to the public."
Petrichor looked at Paige in shock. She turned to Inkwell... surely the librarian would refute such a thing, such a terrible thing... but Inkwell just looked down at the floor, and her ears drooped. "Sorry, Pet. That's just how things... never mind. None of that concerns us, because this group is smart." Inkwell looked up, putting on a brave face. Having to think about such things had hurt her new pony mind. "They won't do that to us, and we are going to Equestria in any case. Right Paige?"
Paige nodded. "The only place to go, now that we have that kit. It's legitimate, you're sure Inks?"
Inkwell looked at the table, where the carbofiber ponification kit sat. "Yes. I ran my field through it, and the contents are potion, and the seal has not been broken or tampered with as far as I can feel. I think he just took a kit off of some shelf somewhere. It's in his interest that you go pony as soon as possible, because that reduces any threat you might represent. You are the... dangerous... part of the family right now, just as you said."
Paige wrapped her fingers around the aluminum bat. "Yeah. I'm still human, and that means I'm still dangerous. Dangerous as hell! Fucking dangerous!" Paige smiled a little vicious smile when Petrichor and Inkwell cringed at her words and how she said them. "If that little brown bastard shows his muzzle around me, he'll end up a flat-face again."
Petrichor thought for a moment. "So, let me get this right. These ponies - whoever they are, probably HLF, or at least something bad - think we are some kind of... agents or something. Something more than just ordinary ponies living together in an apartment. They think we have the notebook hidden somewhere, and they sent that... mean pony... to scare us so that... what?" Petrichor looked from Inkwell to Paige and back "We'd get spooked and go to where we had the notebook hidden and try to move it or take it somewhere? Or that we'd talk about where it was... which would be the reason for the spy dust stuff, huh?"
"Pretty much." Inkwell looked around the room. "I would guess we will be watched for a few days. Nothing more will happen to us, at least for a while I should think. But I would put bits on our every movement outside of this apartment being watched, and we'll never see who is doing it, either, or how many there are. We have a few days, anyway."
"They've basically shaken things up, to see what falls out." Paige stood up, stretched, and went into the kitchen "Tea? Pet? Inks? Three for tea it is."
"You're making tea?" Petrichor was incredulous.
"Inks is right, I think. Might as well have a nice cuppa, because we've got some serious thinking to do." Paige began fussing with cups and canisters. "We need to figure out our next move. It's like a game. They think we are playing at their level, only they got that part wrong."
Inkwell looked up. "I guess we're just going to have to... not surprise them... then!" That made Paige think for a moment, then laugh.
"Yeah. Let's give them exactly what they expect!" Paige set out the large, bowl-like cups, and looked to see if they had any biscuits to go with the tea. It was going to be a long evening of planning. Somehow they needed to out-think a group of very dangerous men, in order to find some means to escape to Equestria with their lives. There was also the issue of the notebook, and what should be done about it - rightly, it should be destroyed, something they all agreed upon. The problem was, Paige suggested, it might be their only hope to survive what very well might be the full wrath of nothing less than the Human Liberation Front.
Project Bucephalus - Laboratory 012
January 28th
I found out today, that I am going to be transferred. I don't want to go, but I don't have any choice in the matter. None of us has any choice, now. We do what we are told.
I don't know why this is happening. We are showing such success, putting the pieces together from all the other teams. It's been confirmed that of the six vanguard groups, the Zero-Twelvers have the edge, by far. The R-22 conversion was proof, and it has been acknowledged from the higher ups - conversion is possible, it is close, and all we need to do now is refine the process.
Maybe I have really overestimated my value to the team. It is true that almost all the work I did was completely rewritten or redesigned, but I thought that was reasonable. Work like this can't be done perfectly by only one person. It needs to be cleaned up and triple checked and generally polished beyond what any single person, or even group can accomplish.
I don't know what I did wrong. I don't even know where I am being transferred to. I was almost tempted to contact that general, but - no. I don't feel good about doing that.
I'm going to miss the rest of the team. We've only been working together for a few months but it's been very intense. I'm going to miss So-yeon and Chawla. Even Baasch, the 'exobiologist'. I never did find out how he got a degree in that, of all things. I guess I won't be talking to Comet Tail again. Actually, I didn't really expect that anyway.
I'm going to miss Raindrops and Buttercream, too. It's amazing how fast the Equestrians can grow on one. Even with all of us walking on eggshells around each other, I felt like we could have become friends, if there were time, and space and the ability to speak freely. I wanted to learn more about them, about their lives. There is something very attractive, very entrancing about the species.
Then again, if this project truly succeeds, there will be time enough for all the learning one could hope to do. And not just because we will all end up being ponies ourselves one day.
I found out something extraordinary the other day from Raindrops. Her age. She is seventy-three years old, roughly. The Equestrian year seems to be about four hundred days, and one of their days averages between 20 and 30 hours, earth time. The variation is up to the whim of the princesses.
Raindrops is considered to be fairly young. She's at a quarter of the Equestrian maximum lifespan. Twenty-ish in human terms, if I understand things correctly. The benefit of joining their species is more than mere survival. It is more than being able to move objects, or grow things through will alone, or fly like a bird. It is a vast increase in lifespan.
It makes me wonder why we deserve this at all. Why are we humans being helped? Why bother with us?
I saw Celestia move her sun, the sun in her sky, one doubtless copied from our own, on earth. Does she really owe us so much? We have ruined our planet, killed our oceans, destroyed our skies, exterminated entire branches of biological phylogeny for no other reason than they were inconvenient to our plans. The Equestrians are so incredibly nice - the old unicorns on level three notwithstanding. Actually, even they have been nice enough, just never really satisfied or content with us, and maybe, who can blame them. I can't say we've treated them well, keeping them penned up underground when they do visit us. I assume we're all underground.
There's something else I want to put down here. I'm a little hesitant to do so, but it's something I want to remember. Maybe it's due to constant, low level exposure to thaumatic radiation, maybe its just stress. I don't know.
I've been having dreams. Strange dreams, where I am walking through Equestria, as I saw it on the video from Mule One and Two. Only, I see places that the two probes never went to. That I know of, anyway. Wide, rolling fields of flowers, and a fairly frightening forest that looks very jungle-like and wild. I feel dread inside it. One dream took place in a rocky desert with high peaks, and I saw dragons soaring overhead. Another dream took place in a large city, with brick buildings very unlike the Tudor-styled cottages that the two Mules witnessed. My mind is inventing things, filling in gaps I suppose.
But always, in these dreams, I see someone following me. Peeking at me. It is as if I am being watched. I don't feel threatened, if anything I feel safe in the dreams because of the mysterious watcher. She - and it is a she - is always just out of my field of vision, though a few times I have caught a glimpse of dark blue. I think she is a pony, an Equestrian, but different. Taller, thinner, and there is a strange feeling about her, whoever she is.
I would discount this all except that it is remarkably consistent. Night after night, I have these dreams, what I call my 'travel documentary', and in almost every dream, there is that watcher, the blue lady. Mare, I suppose. Blue mare. Dark blue, very dark. But not scary. She feels very kind, like a friend looking out for me. I've never had such vivid dreams, and never dreams with a reoccurring mysterious character like this. I assume it is my subconscious trying to work something out.
The dreams started right after I burned my finger on a vial of wizard wine, the purified form of the purple fluid. I lost the tip of my finger, and my whole hand tingled for days. The weirdest part was I kept hearing distant music, or something like music. Like chimes, or bells. Others have experienced this too, when they spend too much time around thaumatically active materials. Mayoss has a grim theory - he says it is probably our neurons dying from exposure. Our brains are interpreting the random loss as vaguely musical tones. He is a neurochemist, so I don't discount his expertise but - it just doesn't seem like the most reasonable explanation. We get examinations every three weeks, and so far, no deficits. I would think losing neurons would kind of show up as functional loss. Then again, he suggests that we have reserves, and that it takes time to be depleted to the level of dementia, so it's probably only a matter of time. Wonderful. I've decided I don't like neurochemistry as a science.
I've been afraid to ask any of the others if they are having dreams like mine. I was tempted to ask Saulnier, she got burned too. Lost some skin on her arm, it made a bit of a scar. The way she looks in the mornings - I can't help but think, maybe she's having strange dreams too, and then I think something very unscientific.
I wonder if she has a blue watcher, like me.
How do I relate to all of this? We call it 'magic' and 'spells' and I have seen the princess of this colliding universe raise her sun into her sky. The nanomachines we are working with have ghosts in them that do most of the work for us. There are unicorns on level three, and we recently turned a chimeric human body into a teal pegasus with multicolored hair.
I feel like Alice, and the rabbit hole just keeps going on down.
And I keep thinking about how Comet Tail and how the old unicorns relate to the princess, Celestia. As though she were sacred. As though, she were a living god.
And atheist me, here in Lab 12 - though not for long - has doubts about whether I have been hasty in deciding what is real, and what is not, and whether or not I need to reexamine what I truly believe.
I hope wherever I am transferred, these dreams don't stop. I really like the dreams.
Oh - and in the dreams, when I walk through these beautiful landscapes?
I walk on hooves.
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Another intriguing chapter, really loving the journal sections. The parts with Paige, Pet and Ink are all wonderfully done as well, though I'm still apprehensive about the potion good ol' Ralph left behind.
A little heavy-hoofed on the anti-torture message. I know if I were ever captured by hostiles, so long as they treated me with respect, I'd spit in their faces. But the moment they caused me physical pain, I'd spill everything I knew. But I'm just a regular guy, not an agent.
Other than that, I like that you had a reason for making not-quite-pony Ralph so obvious.
"I've decided I don't like neurochemistry as a science."
I couldn't agree more, those guys are creepy!
This is probably one of the stronger chapters of the story, in my opinion.
I'm not entirely sure how to articulate why I feel that way, I suppose it's just the flow, and the way the journal entry is just kind of an after thought that concludes it nicely.
Wow, a pre-conversion dream! Nice explanation of Ralph's behavior, as well.
The torture-talk—and the conclusions given therein—smacked of author filibuster. I didn't like it. There used to be a lot more words right here, but I deleted them. Anything beyond registering my opinion wouldn't be productive. Moving on.
Chat, it doesn't seem as though you're aware of all the mild ways in which humans in your setting are punished just for being human, especially by ponies. If I were a human in this setting, and I learned of how my very presence gave ponies the heebie-jeebies due to my lack of a soul, I would be put off, as though I were being thought less of for something entirely beyond my control. Even though the ponies are largely well-meaning, and their negative signals unintentional, their constant poker-tells of barely-constrained feelings of pity would be wearying. It'd be one thing if ponies were aware of how it was really coming across, but all of your human characters either just nod in commiseration ("I know, right? Man it sucks being a soulless, hairless ape!"), thereby reinforcing the behavior, or they weren't exactly on friendly terms to begin with ("H-L-F! H-L-F!"). There's very little variation, which is why I suspected you weren't aware of the patterns of behavior in your human characters. If you were aware, then I have to ask why there isn't a more nuanced reaction between different characters when ponies point out that humans are little more than bags of meat with an electrical charge, and isn't that just unfortunate.
1975135
Regardless of whether or not that's what it turns out to be on a technical level, mild thaumatic burns to give humans "tastes" of Equestria would be an incredibly powerful psychological tool in convincing people to convert. Imagine HLF's hard core of true believers. Imagine them having to put their head down on that pillow every night knowing they would be forced to tour the homeland of their enemy, on four hooves, seeing its beauty and feeling just a fragment of the overwhelming rightness of the place. I know the Chatoverse's PER and Luna would be on board for it, and hell, maybe Luna could even convince Celestia that it doesn't count as superseding free will. It'd be the ultimate ad campaign.
Haha, it sounds like echoes of Friendship is Optimal right there, doesn't it?
My hook-generating glands are in full-swing now, sorry. A thaumatic burn could mark its human owner as someone friendly to ponies, though not ready to convert for whatever reason they have—the Mr. Fergusons of the world. HLF die-hards would see it as a kind of Mark of the Beast, though, so there would be a trade-off in wearing one. Even HLF folks trying to infiltrate pony neighborhoods could get the burn to try and pass as pony-friendly. However, they would still be subject to the psyops of the constant dreams, and that would really do some work on them before long. I'm assuming here that thaumatic burns on humans are not only visible, but verifiable by ponies' sense for magic, so they couldn't be faked easily. This would be similar to how you can tell when someone has frostbite and when they just spilled ink on their hands.
In 1990's United States, torture wasn't controversial at all. It was something evil people and third world countries did. Now it's a legitimate topic of debate in the eyes of popular culture.
1975206
It should be noted that the only ponies that are capable of noticing the soullessness of terrestrial biology would be unicorns. Of this, only unicorns that had some magi-medical training, or who had spent too much time playing with their, or other bodies and had experienced a sudden unusual awareness (as happened for our Inkwell during a scene with Petrichor in bed) would have the ability to sense the lack. So this means that even among unicorns, being able to sense a missing geist would not be common.
If we were to apply this to the Mane Six and the (non-alicorn) cast of MLP, only Twilight Sparkle and Nurse Redheart would be capable of sensing the lack of essential essence within terrestrial life, and it could well be that Sparkle simply hadn't bothered to research... oh. That's stupid. Sorry. Of course she would have. It's there. She would research it. Duh.
I suppose, if we include season two, the unicorn doctor (I think they had a unicorn doctor) in Read It And Weep would be able to sense soullessness, and... that's probably it.
The only reason Inkwell can do this fairly unusual scanning - something only medical students in Equestria learn - is because she was involved in an unusually intense experience with her spouses that involved using her telekinetic field as a sexual toy - and while doing this, her awareness was aroused in fairly intense ways due to her own self-experimentation. She accidentally discovered it on her own.
The overwhelming majority of Earthside ponies in my universe are blissfully unaware that they walk next to soulless, thaumatically barren meat machines. Being ponies, they just see 'FRIENDS!' everywhere, strange, biped friends, but friends.
The real issue that makes ponies cringe and feel bad in my universe are the bad behaviors that humans may show in front of them - things like violence, cruelty, selfishness, greed, schadenfreude, and so forth. The moment a human kicks a dog to shut it up, the time a human screams at another for some minor mess-up, a father beating his young daughter bloody, the act of drunken humans getting into fist-fights - these would be the things that would make ordinary ponies shrink around humans -not the lack of souls.
They have all certainly made ME cringe and despise humanity, the many times I have had to endure seeing them. Or... in the beating case, also experience them.
Inkwell's awareness is unusual - which is part of the complex of reasons she is slightly embarrassed about it.
I've mentioned before, I think, that I grew up reading a LOT of Robert A. Heinlein. And Clarke, and Asimov and... but my favorite was always Heinlein.
Heinlein was an injured ex-navy officer who had, shall we say, VERY strong ideas about the world based upon his experiences, and he tended to insert lecturing Gary-Stu characters (Jubal Harshaw, Lazarus Long, I'm looking at YOU!!!) who would offer up multi-page Socratic dialogues with other characters where he could teach the things he had learned about the world.
While often blatant, and sometimes even a little grating, the fact was that I learned a LOT from the man and his Socratic Soapboxes. For example, from the Rolling Stones I learned about orbital mechanics and gravity wells in this manner, and far better a lesson that I ever got in any school. From Citizen Of The Galaxy, I learned how economics really works in the world, and again, far better than any class, even in college. And of course, in many of his books, I learned his inside understanding of both the good, and the terrible things about military life. He had both loved, and hated his time in WW2.
But above all, I learned from Heinlein a great number of truths about the world, which I have since verified for myself in countless ways, from books to personal experience, and if nothing else can be said - the man challenged me to think, and to question, the common wisdom and the common belief.
I am the same age as Heinlein was when I read his works, and I have seen and learned and experienced much, as he did. I will, occasionally, impart my learning within my stories, because that is something I value. It may be how glial cells and astrocytes work, or it may be the neurobiological evolutionary underpinnings of all human behavior - or it may be the simple reality that the nation I am stuck in, the United States, which once (during WW2) championed the elimination of all torture and the strong and relentless prosecution of any nation which engaged in it, has become so corrupt and so fallen, that it has now legalized and enshrined torture in defiance of its own constitution and history of law.
Holy shit!
It is a kind of horror to watch the nation you are trapped within fall from all human grace on its plummet to financial collapse. Sometimes an author has to let that out. Consider my 'Heinlein moments' to be the same therapy for me, as his surely were for him. I understand the old master better now. When you get to a certain age, you put together the pieces, and it only leaves you angry, and sad.
Just do what most readers of Heinlein doubtless do - skim over Jubal Harshaw explaining how religion serves social power structures, or Lazarus Long expounding on the idiocy of fiat capital. I, like Heinlein, date from a fading and older society, where we imagined such material might be savored, rather than leave a bitter taste. Or, perhaps, we just didn't give a crap and expounded anyway, because dammit, it's real and why the hell not? Take your pick.
Sorry to annoy.
So Luna's getting in on the mind stuff also.
Title made me
1975399
The Heinlein novel I recall the best is Farmer in the Sky, which I found on a shelf in my English class in 7th grade. Thinking about it now, that plot is a nice analog to your own "A Taste of Grass." Later on, of course, came Starship Troopers in high school, which I thankfully managed to read a year before that movie came out. The movie got some things right, many things quite wrong, but I think its worst offense was turning the quiet, grim professionalism of the traditional military bearing that the novel espoused into the rah-rah chestbeating which now fuels civilian fascination with military service and the cultural worship of military personnel, to their detriment. The director says the movie is a satire, but most people were too stupid to notice.
I say this as a multiple-deployed military veteran of both OEF and OIF, who joined nearly two years before the events of 9/11. There is dignity in service in austerity, in going without so others can benefit. I have, and I am proud. Pride should be tempered with humility, though, I think. You will not find yellow ribbons or political bumper stickers on my car—it's garish and undignified to summarize yourself like that to everyone who happens to look in your direction. I have friends now who don't know I served simply because it hasn't come up organically in conversation. I'm certainly not going to offer up the information apropos of nothing; that would be tacky. While I wasn't a career soldier, I did serve, and in combat conditions, no less, and I think it gave me experience and perspective which in turn made me a better person.
This was a major theme I put into Railroad Seven-Three, and it was born from the similar theme in Starship Troopers. On Earth, people sacrifice comfort and safety to serve others, especially in combat. Sometimes they are forced, other times they volunteer, but it is assumed in each case that the sacrifice benefits society as a whole. These people take on value in the eyes of those for whom they sacrifice. There is pride in being able to say "I was there," no matter where "there" was. It sets you apart, gives you a unique and celebrated quality, in volunteering especially.
What happens, then, if an Equestria appeared, a land of peace and plenty, a land without the need for such sacrifices? Your value for being able to voluntarily endure hardship, to go without, to fight in that inimitable human way is wiped clear. Nobody will ask you to make use of those qualities, nobody will even need them, and in fact the species living there finds the capacity for it in the first place wholly distasteful. In order to make the move, you'd have to give up more of your identity than the average person, and in the case of career soldiers, much more. What would come out the other side? Half a person? A person lost and confused, stumbling into paradise, looking at the happiness surrounding him and wondering why he can't bring himself to partake in it?
As authors in this specific setting, we can know those fears are unfounded, or, if it suits the plot, perhaps they aren't. The characters cannot, however, and from their perspective, heaven is terrifying under the right conditions.
1975957
I adored Railroad Seven-Three, I consider it one of the best of the true Conversion Bureau novels (as opposed to the spitefic wankery cluttering the scene now), and I wish my characters in R-63 had the use of such a Railroad. They need it, right now, menaced by the HLF and all. You were the first author that I felt portrayed realistic and decent soldiers in a TCB story. I loved every one of them.
Now I know why you did such a good job. Nothing beats real experience.
I personally think there is a place for the ex-soldier in my vision of Equestria. Not, perhaps, for the rare sociopath who looks forward to butchering innocents - I mean the decent soldier, the one there because they truly want to serve. They want to know they are guardians and protectors.
Celestia's close guard are only for show, I think that is clear. They are the guard at Buckingham - well trained, top flight, but they aren't going to be facing action unless everything falls completely apart. Which happens on the show with alarming frequency, come to think of it.
In my vision of Equestria, there are problems with the Everfree, with the dragons, with the gryphons, with the diamond dogs, and more. I've always pictured a real Equestrian Guard, one able to mount missions against monster incursions from the Everfree, one necessary to quell the diamond dog uprising, one needful to present a quiet, but clear opposition to the gryphonic traditionalists that still would like to sneak the odd pony into their diet. A guard willing to stand, even if hopelessly, against the less civilized dragons, to make sure that they know that preying upon Equestria is not without consequence.
I've hinted at these issues in many of my stories - the battle with a Beholder in Teacup suggests the constant threat the Everfree represents, being a scar on reality itself. I have made many references to the uneasy peace between Celestia and the dragons and gryphons.
In my universe, in my Equestria, if no other, your Railroad Seven-Three soldiers really could have been useful. They just didn't know it, or they faced an Equestria unlike mine, one without any dangers at all.
My Celestia has been more generous and compassionate than she has been wise, and pays for it now, so she needs a guard. In my stories, her Equestrian Guard is necessary, and is the reason most ponies can live in peace at all.
Why haven't I written in more detail about this? It should be quite exciting stuff!
Because I know there are a lot of military readers out there, and I don't feel confident writing about something I don't know well enough. I wish I could, but I am afraid of screwing it up so badly that anyone who has done service would click their tongues at me and shake their heads. I don't want that to happen. I've lived a lot of extreme experiences, but military service is not one of them.
But boy howdy, do I have notions along those lines. The Royal Equestrian Guard, and the very real dangers they face, and the difficult decisions and sacrifices they have to make, to keep ponies able to eat hay-fries and worry about dresses instead of being dessert for dragons, or abominations from the Everfree.
Or worse. My Equestria is not entirely safe.
This chapter... wow. Amazing on all fronts. Inky being conniving, Paige being practical, Doc Pastern... apparently has company in the form of Luna Herself... wow...
... this does make me wonder, however... when she converted, I'm curious if Luna sought her out. It'd be nice to have a friend who's seen both side of the Barrier.
1978111
We do not know Celestia condoned human experiments. All we are seeing is the human side of everything, hidden in a deep underground base, where even her ambassadors are constantly watched, and kept in specific areas, and fed only approved information.
But, to be fair, Celestia is a ruler. She rules. She is not given the luxury to be innocent in the way her ponies are. Like all rulers, she makes difficult choices because she herself has no freedom to defer them.
Every Churchill has his Coventry. It is a fundamental part of rulership, and there is no escaping it.
1975399
For some reason, this comment has affected me more than anything else you said. I mean, it is apparent that such are issues you or Heinlein care about. It would hurt me, to not give you the respect to try to learn from the perspective you have gained from your experiences.
This is so awesoooome~
Magic can be very fun, oh yes it can~♪
And a decorticate Rainbow Dash clone this time. . .creepy. I guess it makes sense if the Mane Six are the donors for the original experiments.
The Blue Mare in the dream sounds like Princess Luna. Also, we get a mindless Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash never was an egghead anyway.
@Petrichor's reaction:
:D
Ah.
Oh, I didn't notice that he wasn't even consistently wrong about the PER's name.
Well, that's one way to discover how to detect souls, I suppose! :D
"They... have fetishes, sexual fetishes that revolve around pain and power, and when things fall apart that far, the twisted people in power arrange to have their needs met... under the guise of things like national security or defense or protecting secrets or whatever they can sell to the public."
Hm. I'm going to disagree with that. I won't say that it's never the case, but I have two objections. First, this assumes that the people in power understand that torture doesn't work for extracting information. Be hesitant to assume malice where incompetence would do and all that. Second, torture has another potential justification: as a deterrent, in the same way that locking someone in a small room for several years can be a deterrent. If your society is one that views the purpose of prisons as "punishment" rather than "reformation", it's appealing to think that you could perhaps get the same effect of a decade of incarceration with less than a day of pain; that would be better for both to torturers and the tortured due to its increased efficiency. Whether it would actually work is another question, but I think that enough arguments in its favor could be made to bring it about without invoking hidden fetishes.
Anyway, though, our protagonists are indeed probably safe from torture. As Inkwell says, the HLF involved here seems to intelligent to try torture for information, they're not in a position to use torture as deterrence as a state action, and while they could use torture as deterrence as an act of terrorism, they probably recognize that it would not serve their highly focused goal.
…And now I'm pausing the story so that I can also make tea.
"We have ruined our planet, killed our oceans, destroyed our skies, exterminated entire branches of biological phylogeny for no other reason than they were inconvenient to our plans."
Hah! That's nothing! They number of species we've wiped out because they were in the way pales in comparison to the number we've wiped out by accident!
"We get examinations every three weeks, and so far, no deficits."
Would they have told you if you did have some, though?
I suspect that the dreams and the general may not be unrelated.
Aaaand with that, I'll be off again, I think. I do hope that your post-move settling in is going well.
Because you're beautiful. And because she can. Even the blackest heart is still a heart. Well, except for Ralph Vitoni
and Diamond Tiara.Is it too much to hope that one of the princesses, perhaps the Princess of Dreams herself, is sending Roz these dreams as encouragement?