Chapter 1: Patients Zero and One
As I flew by, I was relieved to note that nopony was trotting down Gumdrop Street that morning. Every door was locked, every window shuttered tightly, and only one welcome mat could be found all the way down the block. It was reasonable to expect a disorganized response in unfamiliar scenarios, but the crisis team had performed with their usual speed and efficiency. It was very impressive, given the circumstances. Things like this just... didn't happen.
Not even in Ponyville.
I triple-checked the magic health bubble around me, rearranged my saddlebags, and hurried on. The one remaining welcome mat on Gumdrop Street sat in front of a perfectly normal house, from what I could see. Clean, whitewashed walls, a properly maintained thatch roof, healthy-looking daisies on the windowsills. Other than the welcome mat, the only thing differentiating it from the adjacent houses was the yellow police tape establishing a disquietingly wide perimeter around it, punctuated with bright red DANGER signs.
Two ponies with gas masks stood outside the perimeter, one of whom was shuffling nervously from hoof to hoof. I couldn't blame him. Even years of experience in crisis management could only prepare you for so much. I nodded to them as I landed, the bubble shimmering faintly around me as it made contact with the ground. "Ambrosia. Rivet.” I’d gotten pretty well acquainted with most of the ponies on the crisis team over the last couple years. “Great job with the evacuation. There isn't a single pony left within a one-block radius."
"Except us, hahaha!" Rivet's laugh was painfully fake, even through his mask.
I gave him a comforting smile before I continued. "It's just that one block is an awfully short distance, isn't it? We have no idea what we're dealing with, after all. What if it turns out to be an airborne pathogen of some kind? Another block could make all the difference."
Ambrosia frowned. "Twice the distance means twice the work—"
"Four times, actually," I interrupted.
"Yeah... and we ain’t got the ponypower for that."
"I'm sure you could have managed someh—"
"Yes!" Rivet yelped. "We certainly could! I, uh, better start on that! Right now!" He galloped off.
Ambrosia snorted as she watched him go. "Coward." She turned her gaze back to me with a sigh. “It’s just... not happ’nin’, Twilight. One block’s plenny safe.”
I started to protest, but bit my tongue. We had more important things to do here than bicker about precautions, even reasonable ones. “Very well,” I said finally. “Where’s Snap Gauze?”
“Already inside. Said you should come in when ya get here.”
I nodded and opened my saddlebags in response, pulling out a bundled yellow hazmat suit. I wasn’t a bad magical multitasker by any means, but maintaining the bubble would still require some effort. Replacing it with the suit would allow me to focus my energies solely on the task at hoof. “Rainbow came and got me, but she didn’t know many of the details. Would you mind filling me in while I get suited up?”
Ambrosia pulled a weathered notepad out of her saddlebag. “Let’s see… patients are... Lyra Heartstrings and Bonbon.”
A moment of silence. I’d at least heard who the victims were from Rainbow, but hearing their names aloud at the scene still came as a shock. To Ambrosia’s credit, she managed to keep her voice level and detached throughout. I doubt I could have done the same.
“Eyewitnesses saw Bonbon burst out of her house ‘bout thirty minutes ago, beggin’ for help and raving about how Lyra had suddenly gone insane. Then she just conked out in the middle of the street. 'Bout thirty seconds later, she got up by herself, and jumped back into the house.”
I nodded, still worming my way into the suit. “Nopony actually went in to help them, did they?”
“No, thankfully. Guess them service announcements are finally sinking in.” She flipped a page. “Anyway, Noteworthy pulled a nearby alarm. Me ’n’ Rivet arrived four minutes after. Saw… the victims on the floor through the doorway. They were… ugh. I shot ‘em both with tranq darts, then called for the evacua—”
“You what? You tranquilized sick ponies without knowing what was wrong with them?” I stomped a hoof. “What were you thinking?!”
“You didn’t see them, Twilight! The way they moved, and the wailing, moaning… it…” She ground her hoof against the dirt and looked away. “... It sounded funny.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Funny. It sounded funny. Well, that’s not vague at all.”
“I dunno how to describe it!” She shivered. “It was... creepy!”
“You’re as bad as Rivet.”
She jabbed my chest with a hoof. “Hey! You didn’t hear them neither! Whatever happened to them ain’t natural! You’ll hear for yourself when they wake up. Darned if you don’t say the same things!”
I hesitated. It wasn’t like Ambrosia at all to get so spooked. “... You’re right,” I said finally, “and I’m sorry about what I said, but tranquilizing them? At the very least, you should have waited for a medical professional, like Snap.”
Ambrosia muttered something under her breath. I pretended not to hear.
I tugged the last zipper closed on my hazmat suit. “I better get in there. Thanks for your help.” With that, I flipped the visor down on my helmet, engaged the seal, and waddled up to the police tape. I took a couple deep breaths. The sound echoed weirdly through the air filter.
“Twilight, wait.”
I turned to face Ambrosia again.
“Make ‘em okay? Please?”
A brief pause. I gave her a single nod, ducked under the tape, and resolutely approached the house.
* * *
I weighed each step carefully as I crept through the entryway, scrutinizing my surroundings for clues through the blue-tinted visor. Like the outside of the house, nothing seemed out of place, but I’d need to perform a forensic scan later to be absolutely sure. I heard the measured, familiar beep of medical equipment, and followed it into the living room.
The prone forms of Bonbon and Lyra lay on blankets on the floor, with pillows under their heads. “Sweet Celestia,” I breathed. Their bodies were completely relaxed, thanks to the tranquilizer, but it somehow didn’t affect their mouths, which were locked in unnatural, manic grins. I couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through me at the sight.
Snap Gauze looked up from his equipment in the corner of the room. His hazmat suit was almost identical to mine, but it lacked wingflaps. It must have been really uncomfortable for him. “Twilight. I’m glad you’re here.”
I nodded in return. “How are they, Snap?”
“Honestly, they’re fine,” he said, glancing over at his equipment. “Their vitals and respiration are completely normal, and they aren’t exhibiting any common symptoms. No fever, rash, nothing. If it weren’t for those… smiles… I wouldn’t know anything was wrong with them.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s some good news, at least.” I looked around. “Are you the only one here? Where are the other ponymedics?”
He smiled wanly. “We only had one hazmat suit on hoof. This is it.”
I clamped down viciously on a curse before it could leave my throat. “I’ve been pushing for months to have these mass-produced and distributed to every stallion, mare, and foal in Ponyville!”
“Can’t imagine the mayor would approve that. It’s—”
“ ‘A fiscally impractical precaution,’ I know, I know,” I grumbled.
“They wouldn’t get much use anyway,” he went on. “When was the last time we had a chemical spill or an epidemic or something? Usually, it’s just wildlife attacks or natural disasters.” He knelt next to Lyra, held her eye open with one hoof, and waved a small light with the other, nodding in satisfaction when her pupil dilated. She was still wearing that grotesque grin.
“Even if they only get used once, it’s still—ngh!” I tossed my head irritably. “You know what? Never mind. You said they’re totally normal, except for the smiles, right?” If there weren’t any normal symptoms, the cause was unlikely to be pathological or chemical in nature. “It must be magic then,” I concluded.
“Most likely. We can’t sound the all-clear on the quarantine until we know for sure, though. To rule out pathogens and chemicals, I’d have to get them back to the hospital for tests. Magical causes, though,” he looked at me pointedly, “can be detected immediately. Would you mind? I can’t even load them onto the stretchers until we’re sure it won’t trigger a magical backlash.”
I took a deep, calming breath. Magical Resonance Imaging spells weren’t easy. “Right. Here we go then.” I closed my eyes. I could hear the beeping of Snap’s medical equipment and the hiss of my own breathing through the filter, could feel the rough material of the hazmat suit against my coat. One by one, I identified each perception and dismissed it until I floated in a deadened void. Gently, I extended my magical senses outward, tasting the air before focusing on the prone forms before me. Images of th—
“Hiya Twiya!!”
My concentration shattered violently, the shards of it plinking around my skull. “Pinkie Pie!? What… you…!” I sputtered.
“Haha, you’re supposed to use ‘are’ between ‘what’ and ‘you,’ but you didn’t! You’re so creative!”
I finished gluing together the fragments of my mental acuity to find Pinkie staring down at the victims. “Huh,” she said. “Funny time to take a nap, but at least they’re enjoying it!”
I cleared my throat. “Pinkie, this is a quarantined—”
“Twilight, she’s not wearing a suit! Health bubble! NOW!” Snap Gauze roared.
I yelped in panic and brandished my blazing horn at her. A brilliant blue shield exploded into being around her, momentarily blinding us all, before fading back to a faint shimmer. Applying appropriate levels of power under stress had never come easily to me.
Pinkie Pie poked it from the inside, evoking a warped, electric sound. “Oooh… I can play a song! Beatbox for me, Snap Gauze!”
He didn’t, thankfully.
“Pinkie! This is serious!” I barked. “This is a quarantined area! And you just waltzed in without a suit?! You could get seriously sick from this!”
Pinkie lowered her hooves from the edges of the bubble and frowned. “I… I just thought this might be a fun place to be.”
“You saw this house on a deserted block, covered with police tape, with ponies wearing gas masks outside, and you thought it might be fun?!”
“Wait, what?”
I gestured to a nearby window.
Pinkie Pie glanced through it and blinked, a look of dawning realization slowly coming over her features. “Ohhhh. Yeah! That’s gotta be why! Gadzooks, Twilight, I knew you were good at this detective stuff, but wow!”
I tried to slap my forehead with a hoof, but was denied even that simple pleasure as it clunked awkwardly against my visor. I lowered it in disgust.
Snap Gauze cleared his throat. “Pinkie Pie, if you could please be quiet, Twilight was just about to do something.”
Right. The MRI. That.
Part of my concentration would be occupied by Pinkie’s shield, making it far more difficult, but there was nothing for it. I closed my eyes and began cutting out all distractions from my mind. Again. With my meditative state restored, I extended my (almost) undivided focus toward Lyra and Bonbon. Images of them coalesced and solidified in my head, sharper than any physical picture could be, then sharpened further still as I channeled my magic through them. Swirls of light flared in my mind’s eye – latent magic, centered around Bonbon’s hooves and Lyra’s horn. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I grunted with effort, funnelling more and more energy into the spell. Fainter lights appeared, evidence of recent magical expenditure, but all of it seemed benign. Everyday stuff.
I couldn’t let it end there. Something was wrong with these ponies, and it was up to me to set them right! Besides, it would bother me all day if I didn’t figure it out. I refocused my senses, starting with their heads before moving through the rest of their bodies, straining to detect even the slightest trace of malignant energy... there! But so faint! I seized it desperately, pouring all my magical reserves into it, and a blurry image finally flickered through my brain: a lumpy white form with organized blue lines over it. And… a rainbow?
I cut off the spell with a gasp. My vision swam crazily as my senses struggled to realign with reality. Bonbon and Lyra’s deranged faces leered up at me.
“Twilight! Are you okay?” Pinkie’s voice was piercingly loud.
I could only manage a nod, panting hard through the air filter.
“Goddess, you scared me,” said Snap Gauze. “How much energy did you put into that spell?”
“As much as I... needed to,” I wheezed. “Origin… magical. Class B, I think.”
Snap Gauze flipped his visor up and took a deep breath. “Yikes. Well, at least we can drop the quarantine – no such thing as an infectious spell. Sooner we get these ponies to the hospital, the better.” Snap Gauze didn’t waste any time loading them up onto gurneys, his motions practiced and efficient. I severed my connection to Pinkie’s bubble, and she hopped forward to assist Snap Gauze as it dissipated. “Coming?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll meet you at the hospital in a bit.”
“Alright. I’ll let the team know they can sound the all-clear.” With that, they carted Lyra and Bonbon out of the room, leaving me momentarily alone with my thoug—
“Bye Twilight!!”
Alone with my thoughts.
There were quite a few of them. Good thing I’m so organized, even mentally.
One. Luckily, Pinkie Pie would be fine.
Two. Lyra and Bonbon would not for quite a while. Magical maladies could be extremely tricky, depending on how deeply they pierced a pony. Most basic enchantments acted like second skins, and usually dispersed on their own if given enough time. Body transmogrifications were a bit trickier to reverse, but manageable for high-level unicorns. Mental magic is where things got really dangerous. Unless the spell was rooted in some kind of external object – an old doll, say – it would be difficult to safely dispel without permanently damaging the pony’s latent magic along with it. I shuddered at the thought.
Three. Most arcane energy signatures registered as swirls of color under an MRI scan, but this one had appeared as a cohesive picture. What could that possibly mean? And the blue lines in the picture certainly hadn’t been placed randomly. Were they then some kind of code or language? And the rainbow! Could it be connected to the magic of friendship somehow? I definitely had my research cut out for me.
Four. This list would be a lot easier if Spike were here. Oh well.
Five. An enchantment like this would have required immense levels of raw power and finesse, far beyond even my own abilities, and – sweet Celestia, what was I doing? I didn’t have time for this!
I tentatively fired up my horn and immediately became lightheaded, an early sign of magical burnout. Continued spellcasting in such a condition was never safe, but this just couldn't wait. The casting of such a major enchantment would have left enormous magical residue behind, though not for long! I cleared my mind one final time and triggered an environmental scan. A nova of purple light burst from my horn, passing through the walls and leaving a shimmering film in its wake. Any residual magic in the area would light up like flames in my mind’s eye: the stronger, the brighter.
And… nothing. The whole house was clean. A nearby clock ticked. Tocked.
I bucked a nearby couch in frustration. A spell of this magnitude, and nothing? It wasn't fair. This wasn't how magic worked!
But grossly unfair or not, there was nothing more I could do here. I strode out the door, irritably stripped out of my suit, and took to the skies.
* * *
I was somewhat annoyed to spot a dust bunny in a corner as I followed the nurse down a hospital hallway toward the patients’ room. One of the reasons hospitals had always appealed to me, even as a filly, was their cleanliness, which could not be maintained without careful scheduling and attention to detail. I had to cut them some slack though – Ponyville General was hardly a standard facility.
It had started out as a donated mansion, but had since then been augmented to meet rising demand. It now stood proudly as the second largest structure in Ponyville, easily dwarfing City Hall. Visitors in town often spoke glowingly of our hospital, assuming that its disproportionately large size bespoke the importance Ponyville placed on public health. Anypony who stayed longer than a month grimly realized that it was only big because it had to be.
Statistics showed Ponyville to be the most disaster-prone village in Equestria, outclassing even Las Pegasus by a large margin, and I'd learned from personal experience that no amount of preparation could mitigate that. Though the size of the hospital reflected those statistics, the size of the staff did not – if we had enough doctors to handle crises, most of them would sit twiddling their hooves during calm spells. Instead, the hospital coped with emergencies by drafting help from the local citizenry, though in most cases, enough volunteers showed up to prevent the need for such official measures. That sort of thing would never have happened in Canterlot, and it was one of the things I loved most about Ponyville – we took care of each other here. Having your neighbor splinting your broken leg could hardly be called ideal health care, even with the monthly workshops Doctor Stable ran on basic medical procedure, but we got by.
It simply wasn’t possible for such a large facility to meet stringent governmental quality standards with such a meager permanent staff. I had known that for quite some time, of course, having read about it in “Ponyville, a History,” but the visual reminder in the dust bunny dug under my skin regardless.
We reached Lyra’s room. The nurse nodded to me as she held the door open and gestured me through, worry written all over her face. Understandable – this case would ruin anypony’s mood. I nodded back and proceeded into a sparsely furnished room. A flowery partition stood between two beds occupied by Lyra and Bonbon, who were still wearing those disturbing grins. I didn’t see any serious medical equipment, unless you counted the tray of essential tools next to Lyra’s bed. Doctor Stable looked up from a clipboard as I entered. He smiled warmly, but it was tempered by the sadness in his eyes.
“Always an honor, Your Highness.” The aging doctor was one of the few ponies in Ponyville who chose to address me according to my station. A traditional sort, I supposed. At least he’d stopped bowing after the first few times.
I returned his smile. “Doctor.”
“Your arrival is quite fortuitous. Mr. Gauze’s report said there was evidence of mental instability…?” At my nod, he continued. “I hate to laden a princess with such tasks, but may I count on your assistance if the patients become hysterical?”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Much appreciated. I detest resorting to restraints. It can be traumatic waking up in them.” I glanced over at Lyra’s bed again and noticed the ends of several straps peeking out from under the sheets. Stable’s horn glowed, and they visibly slackened with a series of clicks. “In addition, were you at all acquainted with Miss Bonbon or Miss…” he glanced at the clipboard, “... Heartstrings?”
“Both, a bit.”
“I see. Excellent! A familiar face will help keep them calm. Would you mind doing most of the talking then?”
“Not at all. I’m just afraid that—”
I was cut off by a groan from Lyra. At Stable’s nod, I stepped closer to the bed, donned a gentle smile, and waited until her eyes fluttered open. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I said.
Her eyes focused on me, and her hideous grin thankfully relaxed into a more normal shape. “o hai twiliht”
I couldn’t respond immediately. The words died in my throat, swept away by a wave of revulsion. Her words oozed over my ears like oil over water, and I fought the urge to reflexively fold them back. I suddenly realized my smile had morphed into a grimace, and hurriedly forced it back into place. Lyra hadn’t seemed to have noticed. “H-how are you feeling?” I managed.
“kk. wat hapened lol”
That voice… It carried with it a deep sense of wrongness, but with the exception of that nonsensical syllable at the end, I couldn’t put my hoof on why. Lyra’s face showed nothing but confusion and innocence. I suppressed a shiver and tried not to show any discomfort. “Well, uh, A-Ambrosia and Rivet found you earli—”
“whers bonbonbon???” Every syllable was an abomination.
“Sh-She’s perfectly fine, sh—”
Without warning, Lyra’s face contorted back to that freakish grin. “cuz like shes soooooo hAWT!!!!1”
I could do nothing in response but stare. I glanced back at Doctor Stable for help, but he seemed to be similarly repulsed.
Unfortunately, Bonbon was not. She was out of her bed in a flash, poised for a leap and snorting hard through her nostrils. Her head jerked spasmodically from left to right before locking onto Lyra. Her smile somehow stretched even wider, and before we could react, she pounced, crashing into Lyra and dragging her off the other side of the bed.
Stable wasted no time rushing over to the medical tray, shouting for the nurse while gesturing to me sharply with his head. I darted around the bed to reestablish line-of-sight with the patients and found them… um.
Making out?
They were writhing together in the sheets, lips crashing together again and again while their limbs clutched desperately at each others’ backs. Lip smacks and moans filled the air.
“LYRA OHHHHHHHH LYRA LYRA”
“BONBON MMMMMMMMM!!!1”
“Nurse! Code Grey! Nurse!”
Lyra’s leg suddenly jerked, hitting the bed with a loud bang and breaking me out of my haze of disbelief. I shook my head briefly and telekinetically grabbed the pair of them, intending to pull them apart. They floated up into the air with no resistance, but their grips on each other didn’t budge.
“Nnnghh…!” I grunted through gritted teeth. How… how were they so strong?
“LYRA I WIL FOREVER LUV U FOEVER”
“OMG BONZ ME 2 BABY”
Doctor Stable dove onto Bonbon, breaking their leverage and launching Lyra directly into me, but an instinctive burst from my horn sent her tumbling across the room, limbs flailing to find purchase on the waxed floor. Regaining my own hoofing, I kept up the pressure, pushed her out into the hallway, then quickly wedged a chair under the door handle with my magic. I was just turning to see how Stable was faring with Bonbon when a massive BOOM made me jump in alarm. I turned back to the door to find it shuddering and splintering inward as colossal blow after blow landed from the other side. The noise was deafening. A couple screws jolted loose from a hinge and clattered to the floor.
“BONBOOOOOONN!!!! ARGHRGRHHHGG#!24@!#2”
I fired up my horn again, teleported out into the hallway, and grabbed Lyra’s hoof from behind as it pulled back for another punch. Her head immediately swung around an impossible hundred and eighty degrees to face me. An inequine scream of fury burst from her mouth.
Uh oh.
She slammed into me like a wrecking ball. My breath left me in a whumph as my back hit the ground. Something pressed down on my throat before I could reorient myself, and my vision vaguely registered Lyra sitting on top of me, her other forehoof pulled back to strike, her face contorted with insanity and rage.
“TWILITE” she shrieked.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
The blow never came. I tentatively opened one eye to find her entire body trembling violently, random twitches pulling her face this way and that. Slowly, miraculously, her grin and grip on my throat slackened.
She brought her face a centimeter from mine as her shudders intensified.
“T...Twilight...” she choked. “H… help… m-me…”
Her grin suddenly snapped back into place, and she leaped back to the door, making the entire hallway shake with her pounding, but she stopped after several seconds. I struggled to my hooves and looked up to see that her right hoof had burst clear through the door. She flailed around, probably trying to dislodge the chair, but suddenly withdrew with a gasp of pain. She stared dumbly at the syringe sticking out of her hoof. I managed to catch her as she fell over and gently pulled the needle out.
“I swear to you, Lyra,” I whispered as her eyes fluttered shut. “I won’t rest until you and Bonbon are cured.”