//------------------------------//
// Shelter, Part 3 
// Story: The Iron Horse: Everything's Better With Robots! 
// by The Hat Man 
//------------------------------//



15 years ago...

“...out came the sun an’ dried up all the rain…”

Georgia Peach was singing in the den to the little blue unicorn colt she was babysitting while Cobbler and Auntie Bellum sat nearby, only partially paying attention to the books they were reading as a phonograph softly played some folk music.

“...’an the itsy bitsy spider, went up that spout again!” Georgia continued, suddenly holding up the ringlets of her mane and pretending they were the spiders’ legs. The little colt laughed with delight, and Georgia joined in.

“Again!” the colt exclaimed. “Aga--” He was interrupted by a prodigious yawn.

“My my my!” Georgia exclaimed, holding up a hoof to her mouth. “Such a big yawn! Why, I simply cannot believe that your daddy hasn’t come to get you yet!”

“Probably still helpin’ sick ponies at the hospital,” Auntie Bellum said. “But maybe you best put that young ‘un to bed, precious.”

“No!” the colt squealed, crossing his forelegs as he began to pout.

“Aw, don’t fuss like that, Champ,” Georgia said, nuzzling him and causing him to break out into giggles again. “I’ll tuck you into my bed an’ read you a story an’ you can sleep there until your daddy comes.”

Champ Umahara, age five, frowned, but gave a nod, relenting. Then he raised his forelegs and shouted, “Carry me!”

“Ask like a gentlecolt,” she said, standing up straight, jutting out her chin stiffly.

“Please?” he asked.

“Well, since you asked nicely,” she said, and hoisted him onto her back before taking him over to the stairs.

“N-now don’t strain yourself, Georgia,” Cobbler said, sitting up from his chair.

She shot him a look, narrowing her eyes. “Daddy, please. I may not have the strongest constitution, but I surely think even I can carry a little bitty colt up a single flight of stairs!”

Cobbler chuckled nervously. “Ah… yes, of course,” he said. “Good night, Champ!” he said to the colt.

“G’night, Professor Cobbler! G’night, Auntie!” Champ said, waving to them as Georgia carried him off.

Then, when he was almost out of earshot, Cobbler heard him say: “Georgia, when we’re both grown-ups, can I marry you?”

And his heart nearly broke at the pregnant pause that hung in the air before Georgia quietly replied, “We’ll see.”

Auntie Bellum, noticing the look on his face, shut her book. “Nephew, you mustn’t dwell on it…”

“As if I could just choose to do so,” Cobbler growled. Then he took a deep breath. “No matter. Any day now, we’ll get word from Canterlot.”

Only a few minutes later, there was a pounding at the front door. The help was all gone for the evening, so Cobbler answered it himself and saw Dr. Umahara standing there. The middle-aged doctor adjusted his spectacles and tried to catch his breath.

“Professor!” he said, holding up a slip of paper in his magic. “I’m so sorry! I received this telegram early today, but I was in surgery for hours. I just read it! It’s from Canterlot!”

Cobbler stiffened, his lips parting slightly in anticipation of the answer.

“They’re refusing to allow a trial!”

Cobbler froze for a moment. Then he grit his teeth, and his rage boiled over. “What?!” he bellowed, snatching the telegram from Dr. Umahara. He read it and, his face purpling with rage, he suddenly kicked out, knocking over a flower stand, smashing the vase atop it. “Those dim-witted Canterlot fools! No follow-up questions, no schedule for a planning meeting?! Just ‘no?!’ To one of the greatest potential breakthroughs in medical history?!”

“What in the name of peaches an’ cream is goin’ on down here?” Georgia Peach shouted, appearing at the top of the stairs, her eyes ablaze. “Champ was just about to fall asleep when… w-when…”

She wobbled a little, and Cobbler ran up to try and catch her.

But Georgia caught herself on the railing, patting her chest lightly with her free hoof as she sat on the steps. “I’m all right, Daddy,” she assured him. “I apologize; you just startled me so.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry too,” he said. “It’s just… I cannot believe--”

“What breakthrough?” she asked.

Dr. Umahara gasped. “You never told her?”

Georgia raised an eyebrow, peering close at her father. “Never told me what, exactly?”

Cobbler sighed. All this time, he’d kept his plans for an artificial heart a secret, not wanting to give her false hope. But now that he and Dr. Umahara (with a lot of help from the Group) had a functioning model, all that remained was to test and perfect it. Cornered, he had no reason not to tell Georgia, save for the fear that she would say no, and so he explained to her all about the mechanical heart, how it would work, and their hopes to save her regardless of getting a transplant.

“So,” Georgia said, “you… all these nights that you were off working on this project of yours… it was to build a new heart? For me?”

Cobbler nodded solemnly, turning from her. “I… I truly didn’t mean to neglect you lately, sweetheart. I just--”

He felt her throw her forelegs around his neck. “Oh, Daddy!” she cried, her voice breaking. “I declare, you truly are the most wonderful, kindest pony in all Equestria! Do you really think it will work?”

Cobbler hugged her back, holding back his tears. “I don’t know,” he said. “But… but I’m going to find out.”

He drew back from Georgia, giving her a warm smile. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here with me,” he said. Then, turning to Dr. Umahara, who was looking up the stairs at the two of them, he pointed a hoof and said “Dr. Umahara, pack your bags! If the ministers are deaf to our appeals, then we’ll take this directly to the highest authority in the land!”

Dr. Umahara’s eyes bulged. “You mean…”

“Correct!” Cobbler shouted. “We’re going to see Princess Celestia in person!”


***


The room, and the long table at the center of it, were both larger than they needed to be. At one end of the table, dressed as finely as they could be, armed with stacks of documents and schematics and photographs, stood Cobbler and Dr. Umahara.

At the other end were three ponies. On the left stood the Minister of Science and Technology, Noble Gas, a lavender unicorn stallion with a frizzy mane and lacey overcoat. On the right was Medicine Hat, the Minister of Public Health, a yellow unicorn mare with an olive-green mane in a tight bun.

And in the center, at the head of the table in all her glory, sat Princess Celestia, her majestic mane flowing as she wore a serene smile.

“Gentlecolts,” Celestia said, standing to greet them and giving a nod of her head, “I’m glad to meet you.”

Dr. Umahara nearly froze, suddenly in awe of the majestic alicorn, the ruler of all Equestria, standing before him.

Cobbler had no such reaction. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he said quickly, bowing to her before he took his place. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

“You should be appreciative,” Noble Gas said, his lips tight, and his expression looking like he’d just tasted some sour milk. “For the last three days you’ve been causing quite a ruckus, demanding an audience with Her Highness to appeal this decision--”

“Forgive me, but we don’t have time for this,” Cobbler said, holding up a hoof. “If you wish to upbraid me, then feel free to do so later. I am here, Your Majesty, to request legal clearance to conduct medical testing on my invention, co-created with Dr. Umahara’s help.”

Dr. Umahara seemed to come out of his mental fog when Cobbler mentioned his name, and he bowed. “Th-that is correct, Your Majesty.”

Celestia nodded, paying no attention to Noble Gas, who was still smoldering quietly beside her. “I see,” she said. “My ministers have told me a little bit about this invention of yours, but I admit they were scant on the details.”

“In all honesty, we thought it was some sort of joke, Your Majesty!” Noble Gas laughed.

He fell silent when nopony else did.

“I took it a bit more seriously,” Medicine Hat said, “but I found it to be unsuitable for medical trials, so I also rejected it.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. “Then… what is this invention, Professor Cobbler?” she asked, looking back to him.

He began to take out all the papers, but decided that the best way to make her understand was to take the direct approach. Among the papers was a small box. He undid the latch and lifted the lid, bringing it over Celestia and the ministers.

Inside, composed of metal and plastic tubing, but still recognizable by its shape, was the mechanical heart prototype.

Celestia gasped, and Noble Gas flinched.

“This is the first functional prototype of an artificial, mechanical heart,” Cobbler said. “With proper work, this little machine can replace the malfunctioning heart of a normal pony and allow them to live a normal life. This could save the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands of ponies over the years who will die without a proper heart transplant. Denying it for testing, dismissing it as a joke is utterly inane.”

Noble Gas puffed himself up and was about to speak, but Celestia raised a wing, motioning for silence.

“I see,” she said, staring down at the device uneasily. “I agree that it isn’t a joke, and saving ponies’ lives is something we all desire, but… you truly think this machine could replace a pony’s very heart?”

Well, she didn’t outright dismiss it, Cobbler thought to himself. That’s encouraging. Still, I wish Cave Dweller were here right now; he’s still the better salespony between us.

“We have painstakingly recreated the chambers of the heart, the ventricles, and done so with a means of making the device beat as a normal heart would,” he said. “Dr. Umahara here is an expert cardiologist and he can tell you the same.”

Dr. Umahara again stammered, “T-that is correct, Your Majesty.”

Cobbler wrinkled his muzzle, irritated at the way Dr. Umahara was freezing up. “Would you mind explaining a bit more about how the device mimics the heart’s function?” he asked, urging him to elaborate.

“Ah… ah, yes!” Dr. Umahara said, coming to life now that he was on more familiar ground. He held the artificial heart aloft in his magic. “You see, Your Majesty, this device is more than a simplistic pump. In order to recreate the functions of the heart…”

Celestia nodded, listening intently as Dr. Umahara explained it as succinctly and accurately as possible.

“I see now,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you, doctor. That explains it very well.”

Dr. Umahara blushed, stepping back to let Cobbler take the lead.

“I believe you can see that we are quite serious, Princess Celestia,” Cobbler said. “All that remains is for you to approve some trials, and we can manufacture as many as are needed.”

Then Medicine Hat cleared her throat. “I’m afraid the issue is more complicated,” she said.

“Oh yes, quite a bit more complicated!” Noble Gas added with a smirk.

Celestia looked from one to the other. “Explain,” she said simply.

“Professor Cobbler, Dr. Umahara… nothing like this artificial heart has ever been created,” Medicine Hat said, “and yet you are intending for it to replace a complex biological organ. What are the odds of prolonged survival for our first trial recipient?”

Cobbler and Dr. Umahara exchanged glances. “I couldn’t say,” Cobbler replied.

Dr. Umahara pushed his glasses up his muzzle. “In all honesty,” he added, “there are so many factors we can’t anticipate. There is a good chance that the recipient could die.”

“Then these early trials,” Medicine Hat said, “would likely be the equivalent of a death sentence.”

Celestia furrowed her brow at that.

“Yes, perhaps,” Cobbler said, quickly adding, “but the potential gains from what we might learn could be invaluable!”

“That’s easy to say when it’s not your family,” Medicine Hat said, meeting his eyes. “What would you say to using your daughter as the first test subject?”

Cobbler glared at her.

“Your… daughter?” Celestia asked.

They didn’t even brief her about that?! Cobbler screamed internally. Aloud, he said, quietly, “My daughter has a heart condition. I’m not certain how much more time she has. She’s on the waiting list, but finding a suitable donor may take too long!” He bowed his head. “I’m simply trying to save my daughter’s life.”

Celestia’s gaze softened. Medicine Hat and Noble Gas’s expressions, however, did not.

“That is part of the problem,” Medicine Hat said. “Your zeal to cure your daughter’s condition may cause you to cut corners. For instance, your proposal is to test your invention not only on the most desperate ponies who are near to death, but on patients who may have a few years left.”

“A patient who could easily die due to complications would yield too little useful data,” Cobbler said. “I’m proposing candidates who are relatively healthy but otherwise unable to receive a transplant.”

“And potentially robbing them of their remaining years with their families.”

“Or giving them back decades!” Cobbler shot back. “Why not let them take that chance for themselves?”

“Desperate ponies make desperate - and unsound - decisions,” Medicine Hat said, shaking her head. “Case in point: you do not have the patience to deal with setback after setback, or else you would accept trials on only the sickest, most hopeless patients. How many ponies will have to sacrifice themselves to rescue your daughter? What’s happening to her is terrible, but we don’t trade one life for another.”

Noble Gas cleared his throat. “Cobbler’s family is actually more interwoven into this issue than you realize, Your Majesty,” he added, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Cobbler with suspicion. “According to our information, he is the grandson of an automaton builder named Dearborn Crumble.”

Celestia jerked her head back in surprise. “You mean the pony who--”

“--Invented the farming automaton over eighty years ago?” he asked smugly. “Indeed I do.”

Cobbler grit his teeth, but tried to keep calm. “That is true,” he said. “My grandfather was, like me, an inventor and mechanical engineer. I wasn’t aware it was a secret.”

“It isn’t,” Noble Gas continued, taking a few notes from inside of his suit and reading from them. “It’s also no secret that your father was known to curse Her Majesty, blaming her for the failure of his father’s invention. Some might even accuse him of being disloyal.”

“Sir,” Cobbler said, his voice quiet, but with an audible edge, “I don’t know how things are done here in Canterlot, but in Mustangia, one does not throw around insults aimed at another pony’s family members lightly.”

“Was that a threat?” Noble Gas asked.

“It was a fact,” Cobbler said. Then he drew himself up, taking a deep breath. “Besides, I really don’t see what my family’s history has to do with this.”

“Then allow me to explain,” Noble Gas said, turning to Celestia, who was watching all this with an increasingly worried expression on her face. “Professor Cobbler here is still quite the automaton enthusiast and known to employ the latest in automation technologies at his businesses, thus reducing the need for normal, living ponies to fill such positions.”

“But those that do fill them,” Cobbler said, interjecting, “are paid generously for their work.”

“It must be easy to give high salaries when you have far fewer workers under you,” Noble said, polishing his hoof. “The point is, however, that you have been raised to resent Princess Celestia’s… influence in your grandfather’s downfall, and it’s clear you hold the advance of technology in greater importance than the needs of others.”

“That’s--”

“The truth is that this ‘mechanical heart’ is part of a greater philosophy: soon Professor Cobbler, promising health and longevity to all ponies everywhere - minus the ones who die to test his invention, as Medicine Hat pointed out - will be selling them to every single pony, regardless of need, all in the name of efficiency. Then it’ll be newer prosthetics… artificial eyes, artificial ears, then lungs, then mechanical legs! Soon, if this pony has his way, he’ll achieve his grandfather’s dream of a legion of automata by replacing the ponies of Equestria piece-by-piece until ponies as we know them now are completely extinct!”

“Shut up, you pompous simpleton!” Cobbler bellowed, slamming his hooves on the meeting table. “I’m not some mad scientist in whatever pulp fiction you’ve been reading; I’m doing this to help ponies! Yes, that includes my own daughter, but I’m only doing what any good father in my position would!”

“Then you admit,” Noble Gas said, raising an eyebrow, “that you don’t still hold to the ideals of automaton advancement? You admit that your grandfather was wrong?”

“My grandfather was most certainly not wrong!” Cobbler shouted, now screaming into Noble Gas’s face. “Those machines would have revolutionized the country, and instead we’ve wasted nearly a century on archaic techniques thanks to the widespread technophobia brought on by small mindedness!”

“Cobbler!” Dr. Umahara yelled, seizing him by the shoulders.

Cobbler suddenly realized what he said and froze. Numbly, he turned to see Celestia watching him. There was a look in her eyes. It was tense. Almost fearful.

“Professor,” Celestia said slowly, “I… I’m not certain what to say about all this.”

Cobbler bowed his head. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said, trying to calm himself down. “I meant no disrespect--”

“I think he did,” Noble Gas said, sneering at him.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Medicine Hat quipped.

Celestia raised her hoof again, silencing everypony else.

“Professor Cobbler Mustang,” she began, spreading her wings as she addressed him, making him feel as though he were a criminal about to be sentenced. “Your invention truly does have a lot of potential. And I am truly sorry to hear about your daughter. I believe you want to help her above all else.”

Cobbler nodded, raising his head hopefully.

“However… this invention raises so many questions. Replacing ponies, even parts of them, is still one of my greatest fears. To think that one day such things may become commonplace, changing the very experience of what it means to be a pony… I admit that I find it disturbing. And whether or not you intend any harm, you are far too close to this matter personally to conduct a study objectively. I will not allow other ponies to die due to your desperation to test this invention quickly, and I’m certain that’s what you would do.”

“So,” Cobbler surmised, “your answer is no.”

“Partly,” she said, bowing her head. “As much as I wish to save ponies’ lives, you are far too eager to push this invention. I will allow you to publish your findings and theories, and I will, in fact, allow a trial to be conducted on ponies who have no more time or options. However, I will not allow you or Dr. Umahara to participate in the study due to your bias. I will instead allow my capable ministers to conduct this trial with the utmost care.”

She nodded to Medicine Hat and Noble Gas, who both bowed to her.

“A fair and wise decision, Your Majesty,” Noble Gas said.

Cobbler stood aghast, his mouth hanging open. “You would shove me aside,” he breathed, “while these two imbeciles tinker with an invention neither of them have the slightest faith in?!”

“If you wish for your invention to ever succeed, then yes,” Medicine Hat replied, adjusting her glasses.

“It seems we’re all you’ve got,” Noble Gas said, forcing himself to smile.

“But, Your Majesty,” Cobbler cried, turning back to Celestia, “with such test subjects and these two no doubt waiting to kill my invention on the vine, we’ll never gain enough knowledge to help Georgia in time!”

“You don’t know that,” Celestia replied, placing her hoof on Cobbler’s shoulder. “Please, Professor… such innovation must be handled slowly and with the greatest caution.”

Cobbler glared at her, his body trembling with rage as he shrugged her hoof from his shoulder. “I thought perhaps I was wrong about you,” he muttered. “I thought that you would be more understanding than my granddaddy led me to believe. You had the chance here to correct the mistake you made with him all those years ago, but you’ve thrown it away.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. “What I did, I did for the continued happiness of ponies,” she said darkly. “Technology is a power unlike any other. The sudden, exponential advancement of it around the time of your grandfather showed me that such power must be closely watched and restrained. In all the centuries I’ve lived, I’ve realized that once our society changes, it can never be returned to how it once was. Ushering in an age of mechanical ponies would have meant accepting all the unforeseen consequences of it. As the ruler of Equestria, it is my duty to weigh the consequences and to slow the introduction of any potentially dangerous precedents. Towards that end, I’ve chosen advisors to help guide me in a way that will minimize technology’s potential harm.

“I am sorry that you’re still embittered by my lack of support for your grandfather’s invention, but it wasn’t a mistake.”

“Oh, it was just one of many mistakes, Celestia,” he said. “It isn’t that the citizens of Equestria aren’t ready for this machine; it’s that you aren’t, and they all blindly worship you too much to make up their own minds. And now I see why you appointed these two peons: to validate your own ignorance and fear.”

Celestia shook her head, heaving a sigh. “I wish you could understand, Professor,” she said.

“I think I understand perfectly well. You just won’t accept that ponies should be given the ability to make their own decisions,” Cobbler said, scoffing. “You are simply too afraid that they’ll choose progress over stagnation. You’re no leader; you’re just acting as Equestria’s caretaker, trying to shelter your little ponies from the specter of a world that has advanced beyond its need for you and your outdated ways!”

“How dare you!” Noble Gas shouted, pointing his hoof at the door. “Nopony talks that way to Her Highness! Guards!”

“Don’t bother; we’ll see ourselves out,” Cobbler said, gathering up his things as Dr. Umahara, scrunching inwardly, fell in next to him. They walked toward the exit as the tense guards held the doors open. “Just know,” Cobbler added, pausing to turn around and look at Celestia, “that you might have sentenced an innocent filly to death. You remember that, because I assure you that I will never forget it.”

As he went out, Celestia cried, “Cobbler, wait! Perhaps there’s--”

But he’d already taken off, shrugging off the guards as he dashed down the hall, back through the palace corridors and outside the castle.

Dr. Umahara finally caught up to him, breathing heavily as he gently laid his hoof on Cobbler’s shoulder.

“Professor,” he said, “I’m sorry, but I…”

He trailed off when Cobbler turned to face him. He had tears in his eyes.

“Dosanko,” Cobbler whimpered, surprising Dr. Umahara with his first name, “I… I failed. Without medical testing, the heart may fail! But the chances of Georgia getting a heart in time are…”

In spite of himself, seeing all the other ponies passing by and staring at the grown stallion weeping on the great steps of the Royal Palace, Dr. Umahara embraced his friend, patting him gently on the back as he comforted him.

“Don’t worry, Cobbler,” he said. “I… perhaps we can find another solution. But it will be all right. You did your best to make your case, but those fools were determined to sway Her Majesty’s opinion against you.”

Cobbler paused, taking a breath. “No,” he muttered. “She knew exactly what she was doing. Those two were just there to make her feel better about it. And even if not, a ruler who listens to fools may as well be a fool herself.”

He got to his hooves and began to stride down the stairs, his features hard and determined.

“Let’s go home,” he said. “This place makes me sick.”




***


Twilight stared down into her teacup, absorbing what Cobbler had just told her.

“Surprised?” Cobbler asked, smirking as he got up to refill the teakettle. “I can already tell what you’re thinking. You could understand your mentor holding back the farming automaton, but the artificial heart is something else entirely. Being a student of science yourself, you can’t believe she’d hold back such an invention. You’re wondering if I’ve lied to you, but I swear to you that what I’ve said is the absolute truth.”

“I…” Twilight paused, taking a deep breath, calming herself down. In fact, she had been wondering all those things. But still, it couldn’t all be so simple.

“It wasn’t all her fault,” Twilight said, turning to face him. “It was those ministers who--”

“The ministers she appointed, and she chose to listen to,” Cobbler said, shaking his head. “If she’s the one who makes the decision, then she bears the responsibility.”

Twilight sighed. It was hard to argue with his logic. The ministers and the noble families in Canterlot were known to be a disconnected, elitist lot. She’d sat in on a meeting with Celestia once, and she’d mostly found the ministers to be a squabbling group of bureaucrats, but with Celestia leading them, she’d been satisfied that they were being directed toward loftier goals.

She didn’t know either Noble Gas or Medicine Hat, however. She suspected they’d since stepped down from their positions.

Cobbler cleared his throat and held up the teakettle, offering her more tea.

“Thank you,” she said, letting him pour her another cup. “Listen, I sympathize with what you’re saying, but I need to know the whole story. I need to hear how it ends.”

Cobbler nodded. “I thought you might,” he said, taking his seat again. “Unfortunately, it turns out that Medicine Hat was right: desperate ponies make desperate decisions…”


***




Late that same evening, Cobbler and Dr. Umahara wearily stepped from the train and onto the platform in Mustangia Station.

“She said no, didn’t she?”

They both turned swiftly at the voice. There stood Cave Dweller, a humorless smile on his face.

Dr. Umahara bowed. “She did,” he replied dejectedly.

Cobbler grit his teeth. “Those braindead Canterlot--”

“Yep, I thought as much,” Cave said, then stepped between the pair of them, draping his forelegs over both of their shoulders. “But that’s why we’re the pioneers of this brave new world! You think those bureaucrats did anything practical? They didn’t delve into the oceans, storm the beaches, or bring back the gold! No sir, we did! It’s just us against the world, gentlecolts!”

Cobbler raised an eyebrow but had to chuckle. “You’re nutty as a fruitcake, Cave,” he said. “But all right, I’ll bite, what’s the point?”

“The point is that if we want to save your daughter, and I know we all do,” he said, “then we’re gonna have to think outside the box! Try new things! Like my watch!”

“Your… what?” Cobbler asked.

Cave held up his forehoof and displayed his watch, which, they noticed, had hands that were glowing bright green in the evening darkness.

“Oh, um… it’s very nice,” Dr. Umahara said politely, trying to smile. “Is it enchanted with magic?”

“Nope! Lab boys are working with this energetic new material called ‘radium.’ I’m puttin’ it in everything from watches to paint to toothpaste for a brighter, healthier smile!”

Cobbler blinked at him. “Why?”

“‘Why?’ Science isn’t about ‘why,’ it’s about ‘why not!’” Cave scoffed. “I figure all this stuff is so energetic, it’s gotta be healthy. Heck, if I’m lucky, maybe it’ll turn me into an alicorn! How do ya like that thought? First president of the Nation, first earth pony to grow wings and a horn!”



“Wait, wait, wait,” Twilight said, holding up her hooves. “Didn’t they discover a few years ago that radium is--”

“Yes, yes,” Cobbler said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just say that Cave grew some things, but wings and a horn weren’t among them. Now don’t interrupt…”



“The point is,” Cave went on, “that we need to do something a little drastic.”

Here he took on a sly demeanor and beckoned his two comrades to follow him from the train station. Once they were on the darkened country road leading back toward Cobbler’s mansion, he began to explain again in a hushed tone.

“I know a guy,” he said, “who owns a hog farm. Big, smelly place, but he makes a darn good living on fertilizer, renting ‘em out to truffle farmers, and when they croak he sells ‘em to pet food companies.”

Cobbler sighed. “What exactly is your point?”

“I’m just saying,” he said, “that, if you think about it, hogs aren’t that different from ponies. Four hooves, warm blooded mammals, around the same size…”

Dr. Umahara and Cobbler exchanged confused glances.

“Oh for the love of… they probably have similar organs too. Like, say… hearts?”

Cobbler’s eyes widened.

Dr. Umahara froze in his tracks. “You… you’re proposing animal testing?”

“Well, I could try tracking down some hoboes and offering them some bits to let us tinker with their tickers instead--”

“Cave!” Dr. Umahara cried.

“No, huh? Well, then it’s back to the piggies,” Cave said.

“But animal testing has been illegal for… well, generations!” Dr. Umahara shouted. “Even in Neighpon, such actions would have been forbidden!”

“Oh come on, it’s not like we haven’t broken the law before,” he chuckled. “Or did you think this secret organization conducting unsupervised experiments as an independent nation was A-OK with Canterlot?”

“Shh!” Cobbler hissed, looking around nervously. “Try not to tell the whole countryside, if you don’t mind?”

“Look, while you’re arguing petty ethics for animals whose whole purpose in life is mostly to eat garbage and poop,” Cave said, poking Dr. Umahara in the chest, “a sweet little girl is getting closer and closer to death’s door because Mother Nature botched her original heart. Now, I ask you, what’s the difference between this and asking actual ponies to take a gamble on a medical trial?”

“Ponies can offer consent,” Dr. Umahara said, shaking his head. “Animals cannot.”

“Well, they can’t say no, either, so that’s--”

“Enough,” Cobbler said, silencing them both with a single word.

They both looked at him. He suddenly looked older, weighed down by his burdens.

“Cave is right,” he said. “Much as I find the idea somewhat revolting, no animal’s life is worth that of my daughter. But we cannot do it without you, my friend.” He took hold of Dr. Umahara’s hoof and looked him in the eye. “Say you’ll help me. If not me, then do it for my daughter. Please.”

Dr. Umahara opened his mouth to say something, but then his resistance melted away. He slumped and only gave a silent nod.

“Ha!” Cave laughed, slapping Dr. Umahara on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Okay, you two geniuses do what you need to do, and we’ll start testing some piggies!”




***


Twilight was still staring at Cobbler, a horrified expression on her face.

“Animal testing?!” she cried. “That’s monstrous!”

“I know,” he said, frowning. “It was. But, as Cave said, my daughter’s life was worth more than those poor creatures’. And I will not lie to you… there were quite a few of them.

“The first died outright in surgery. We had to fight to get Dr. Umahara to try again, even though he’d only been trained to operate on ponies. But he gave in, and we tested on the next, who lived 48 hours before a leak in the ventricle lock was discovered. The next lived a week. Then another lived ten days. Bit by bit, we improved on our designs, learning how to create the perfect heart to replace a pony’s.

“And during that time, my dear Georgia, without me noticing, was changing from a young filly to a mare…”


***




13 years ago...

“Um… Daddy?”

Cobbler looked up from his schematics and turned to look at the door to his study. Georgia, now 17 years old, was standing there. One leg was crossed in front of the other, and she wasn’t meeting his eyes, which was a sure sign that she was about to ask for something.

“I know that look,” he said, getting up from his desk. “What do you want?”

“Oh, well, um… it won’t cost you anything!” she said, smiling at him.

“That’s nice, but it doesn’t quite answer my question,” he said, leaning close to her. “Now go on and tell me.”

“Well, Daddy,” Georgia said, her cheeks reddening, “there’s a school dance coming up, an’ I would just love to go.”

Cobbler’s expression grew tense.

“And, um… I’ve been invited to go with Dandy Fine,” she added, her voice squeaking as she glanced up at him.

Cobbler took a step back before collapsing into his office chair. “You… Georgia, I mean… are you saying he asked you on a date?”

“W-well, I suppose you might say that,” she replied, chuckling nervously.

“But… a date with a colt?” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Why, aren’t you a little young for that?”

She puffed her cheeks out. “Why, I am seventeen! I am practically a lady!”

“Practically but not quite,” Cobbler said.

“I will have you know that quite a few of the other girls in my class have been dating for a few years now!” she declared, stomping her hoof.

“That’s fine well and good for some,” he said, rolling his eyes, “but in this family we have a bit more class--”

“When did you first date a filly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He flashed back to asking out a filly to a dance at fifteen to the objection of absolutely nopony in the family.

“That… it doesn’t matter, we’re talking about you, young lady!”

“Oh, so I am a ‘lady?’”

He winced. She only smiled.

“Georgia,” he whispered, “you… you can’t.”

Her smile vanished. “And why not?” she demanded, raising her voice. “Why, if it’s about me spending time with a boy, then you needn’t worry.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “That Dandy Fine is just the kindest, sweetest gentlecolt in Mustangia! Oh, an’ he’s so handsome an’ he helps me carry my books--”

“Georgia, it’s not the boy!” Cobbler exclaimed (which was partly true). “The problem is… your condition.”

She blinked, then frowned at him. “I see,” she said quietly.

“Georgia, please understand,” he sighed. “With your heart, I just don’t know if you could take so much excitement. Now, perhaps one day when you’re older--”

“Assuming I get much older, you mean.”

Cobbler froze. “Georgia,” he whispered. “Don’t speak like that.”

“Well, why not?!” she shouted, glaring at him. “It isn’t as though it’s a secret! An’ you an’ Auntie are always watching me an’ keeping me here like some precious, fragile porcelain doll! Y’all won’t even let me go out to the garden without half a dozen farmhooves to help me plant my things! An’ the last time that happened was nearly a year ago!”

“Georgia--”

“I am not finished!” she screamed. “I know I may not have much time left! That’s why I want to go to this dance! It’s just one little bitty dance, an’ you won’t even let me do that! If it is so fated that I go to my grave early, I don’t want to be on my deathbed an’ wonder what it feels like to have a wonderful romance or to kiss a boy or dance with my friends until I’m dizzy! I know you want to keep me alive, but I just want to live!”

She screamed that final word, bursting into tears. He reached for her, but she’d already dashed out of the room and down the hall.

Momentarily flabbergasted, Cobbler was too stunned to speak or even move. But then he stood and ran out of his study.

Auntie Bellum was in the hall, blocking his path.

“Nephew,” she said, heaving a sigh, “she’s right.”

“I… I was trying to…”

She went over to him and hugged him. “I know, precious,” she said, patting him on the back. “I know you’ve endured a whole mess o’ heartbreak, an’ I surely don’t want to see you fret any further, but our baby girl ain’t a ‘baby’ anymore. Now, if you forbid her from this dance, she’ll get over it eventually… but I suggest you let her have some happiness. Goodness knows, sometimes life ain’t kind enough to provide us with much.”

Cobbler smiled. “You always know just what to say, Auntie,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “All right. I’ll talk to her.”

He went to the stairs and ascended, arriving at Georgia’s bedroom door. He knocked on it.

“Go away!” she shouted.

He turned the knob anyway, finding the door unlocked, and walked in. Georgia was on her bed, crying her eyes out.

He sat down on the bed next to her.

“When is this dance?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t look at him, but kept her face pressed into her pillow. “It’s in three days,” she replied. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighed, patting her on the shoulder, “that gives us a few days to find you a nice new dress.”

She sat up, staring at him through tear-stained eyes. “You… you mean…?”

“Georgia Peach,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed, “I know when I am beat. Just have a good time, don’t overexert yourself, and don’t let that boy get fresh, all right?”

Her lip quivered for a moment before she threw her forelegs around him, laughing ecstatically. “Oh, thank you, Daddy! You really are the kindest, most wonderful--”

“Oh stop,” he said, poking her in the muzzle playfully. “You already got what you wanted, so stop trying to butter me up. Just be home by eight.”

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Nine thirty.”

“Done,” he said, smirking at her. “Always negotiating, eh? That’s a businesspony’s daughter for you.”

He nuzzled her, causing her to giggle, and then turned serious. “Georgia… I know I shelter you sometimes. But just know that I only do it because--”

She placed a hoof to his lips. “I know, Daddy,” she said. “I love you too.”




***


Twilight smiled. “That’s a really cute story,” she said. Then her expression changed from a look of happiness to one of horror. “Wait. Don’t tell me that because of that dance she--”

“Oh, she was fine!” Cobbler exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “She came home humming to herself, spinning around in circles, and drawing little hearts on everything she could put a pen or pencil to.”

Twilight let out a sigh of relief.

“If nothing else,” Cobbler said, cracking a smile, “she got to experience some puppy love. But even so, her condition did start to worsen not long after that.”

Twilight frowned. “I see,” she said. “What did you do?”

“I did what I had always done,” he replied. “I did whatever I could.”


***




12 years ago…

Cobbler, Dr. Umahara, and Cave Dweller all sat around a table in Cave’s underground office.

Cave looked gaunt, and his mane was now so patchy it was practically nonexistent after so much hair had fallen out.

“Darndest thing,” Cave said, coughing harshly into the back of his hoof. “Turns out radium is pure poison. I am deathly ill.”

Cobbler only stared at him. “Do you mean that literally or--”

“About as literally as you can get,” Cave replied. “Seriously, just ask Dr. Umahara.”

“He has tumors,” Dr. Umahara said, shaking his head. “A lot of them. Everywhere.”

“Yep!” Cave laughed. “All over. Gums, throat, lungs, skin… probably quite a few in my brain too, unless you two both think everything smells like oranges too.”

They both shook their heads.

“Yep. That’s tumors,” he said, looking surprisingly nonchalant.

“Cave, if there’s anything I can do--” Cobbler began.

But Cave Dweller shook his head. “Look, forget about me for a minute. How’s Georgia?”

Cobbler bowed his head.

“That bad?” Cave asked.

Dr. Umahara cleared his throat. “She’s in the hospital,” he said. “Her condition is worsening, and her chest pain is increasing. She’s on some medication, but it’s losing effectiveness. I… I’m afraid that her heart is giving out.”

Cave nodded, his expression grave. “In that case,” he said, “it looks like it’s time to take some drastic measures.”

Dr. Umahara smiled, knowing the question that would be coming.

“How are the tests going?” Cave asked.

Cobbler steepled his hooves. “We’ve got three subjects all with the latest version of the heart,” he said. “Dr. Umahara says that one of them has been functioning normally for an entire year with the heart.”

“No sign of trouble?” he asked.

“None that we can see,” he replied. He looked over at Dr. Umahara.

“W-we still need more data,” he said, holding up his hooves. “Complications could still arise--”

“How much longer does my daugher have if her current status stays the same?” Cobbler asked.

Dr. Umahara swallowed. “A month,” he replied. “At the very most, I’d say.”

“Then the way I see it,” Cobbler said, “we’ve got nothing to lose.”

Cave and Cobbler both looked to Dr. Umahara, who squirmed uncomfortably under their gazes.

“There’s still the possibility of complications,” he said. “I… I just don’t want her to suffer because we were too hasty…”

“But if we wait too long,” Cobbler said, narrowing his eyes, “she’ll die. After all the effort we put into preventing that, are you really going to walk away at this, our moment of truth? Are you really going to abandon her?”

Dr. Umahara bowed his head. “No,” he replied softly. “All right. We’ll need to make preparations to perform this operation discretely. Make sure all nurses are members of the Group.”

Cobbler breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Dosanko,” he said. “I knew I could count on you.”

Dr. Umahara got up to leave and Cobbler began to follow, but then Cave Dweller put his hoof on Cobbler’s shoulder.

“Uh, mind staying for a bit longer?” he asked. “I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

Cobbler nodded, waving to Dr. Umahara as he went on without him.

“What can I do for you, Cave?” he asked.

“You’re the best automaton builder ever to live, Cobbler,” Cave said.

“Oh, I don’t know--”

“Just take the compliment!” he snapped. “You are, and you know it! I’ve seen the work you do compared to all the others in that little automaton club you’ve got. You’re leagues ahead of the rest of ‘em.”

Cobbler blinked, but then nodded. “All right, but what’s your point?”

“We’ve been trying to get this runic computing thing to work for us,” Cave said, noticeably not answering the question. “We thought about using it to make a brain for one of your automata, like a more advanced version of the golem.”

“Yes, but we’re nowhere near that level,” Cobbler said, frowning at Cave Dweller. “You know all this. All we’ve learned to do is record and encode basic information on the runes.”

That much was true. They’d learned how to construct runes engraved in orichalcum and networked together with gold wire to create a new form of storage. Each rune could hold a fairly substantial amount of information, and they’d learned that while reducing the size of the rune would reduce the capacity, networking them together actually bolstered their power, which meant that one could write smaller and smaller runes as long as they were all interconnected and still get a very large amount of data stored. Dozens of books and musical albums could be encoded that way.

As Cobbler had said, Cave knew all this. What was he getting at?

“What if we connect those two things?” Cave asked. “What if we could record enough information to make a new kind of brain for an automaton?”

“That would be a good long term goal,” Cobbler replied.

“Forget long term!” Cave shouted, causing himself to go into a coughing fit. “Some of us don’t have that long!”

Cobbler blinked, still not understanding. “Long enough for what, exactly?”

“Look, my point is that, you know, if we can put a small library on one of those runic discs, then why not put a whole lot more into something bigger and fancier? Why not copy a pony onto one? Or, at least, a pony’s brain?”

Cobbler’s eyes widened. “You’re talking about brain mapping,” he whispered. “That’s… I…”

“Look, let’s lay this on the line,” Cave grumbled irritably, rolling his eyes. “One thing that your daughter and I have in common is that we’re both on our last legs. But while that heart will save her, this crummy body is just about cashed out. If I’m gonna go on, I’ll need a whole new one, and you just happen to be the pony who knows how to build me one. A good one, made of metal and wires and stuff! Now we just need to figure out if you can copy my mind and pour it in there!”

“Cave, I…” Cobbler shut his eyes, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like an organ transplant. It’d be like transcribing an old, fading book into a new one. You might preserve a copy, but the old one would still exist and continue to fade!”

“And?”

“I’m saying that you’d still die! It’d just be a copy of you in that mechanical body, even if it did work!” Cobbler shouted.

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers, old pal!” Cave laughed. “Look, the Group needs its president, and I want to see it carry on. Even if it’s just a copy, as long as it thinks and acts like me, it’s still me, right?”

“I… I don’t know,” Cobbler said. He swallowed. “Cave, fashioning a mechanical heart is one thing. But completely replacing a pony with a mechanical version--” He froze, realizing that what he was talking about was exactly what Celestia had feared so much. And here he was, talking about making it a reality.

“Cobbler, look at this way,” Cave Dweller continued. “You pull this off and they’ll have to create a whole new category of science just to give you awards in. Heck, we’re talking functional immortality! And if all that doesn’t move you,” here he leaned toward Cobbler, his expression darkening, “then you just remember who it was that helped you run your tests and get your data. It’s thanks to me that you’re not planning Georgia’s funeral. I lent you some of the Group’s best scientists, helped provide you with the resources to decipher the runes, and got you to where you are now!

“In other words, Cobbler, you owe me.”

Cobbler nearly flinched, staring into the haggard, intense face of his dying friend.

“I’ll try,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes. “But what you’re asking for won’t be easy. Learning how to map and encode something as complex and dynamic as a living brain will take time and a lot of work.”

“Good man!” Cave shouted. “I’ll give you the best darn team of eggheads I’ve got! Just get on it and try to finish it before these tumors eat me alive!”

Cobbler nodded and got up. His mind was still racing when he got home. Between worrying about Georgia’s upcoming operation and pondering this new brain mapping project, he didn’t get a single moment of sleep all night.


***


11 years, 6 months ago…

Cobbler strode through the peach trees, plucking one of the succulent fruits from a low-hanging branch and biting into it. He made his way to the clearing and was greeted by rows of flowers in bloom, shrubs trimmed into elegant shapes, and archways adorned with hanging purple wisteria that formed a veritable tunnel of flowers.

He walked through the garden and peeked around a flower bed to see the lone gardener.

There was Georgia Peach, digging in the dirt, preparing to plant a new shrub into the hole she’d just dug.

She was alone, digging all by herself in her own garden.

He took in the sight, his heart filled with joy at the sight of his daughter, healthier and stronger than she had been in years.

They’d all waited with bated breath after the operation. Dr. Umahara had taken longer than anypony would have suspected to perform the surgery, but when Georgia woke up after it was over and looked up at him, a smile on her face, he knew they’d succeeded.

The heart worked. She would live.

“Georgia?” Cobbler called.

“Oh!” Georgia cried, turning around. She smiled when she saw her father there and stood, wiping sweat from her brow. “Daddy, you just about scared the dickens out of me!”

“My apologies, sweetie,” he said, tossing his half-eaten peach into the trees nearby before cleaning his hooves with a handkerchief. “But I thought you might want to see what came in the mail for you.”

He drew a letter from his coat. On the envelope, the return address was clearly visible: it was a letter from the Silky Wisteria School of Horticulture, one of the finest schools in the nation for a young horticulturalist.

Her mouth dropped open. “I… what does it say?”

“Well, I think you would know that I wouldn’t open another pony’s mail,” he said, grinning at her. “I thought you might want the honors.”

Georgia quickly wiped her dirt-covered hooves on her apron before taking the letter. She bit the corner of the envelope, tearing it open before removing the letter inside.

She paused, took a breath, and unfolded it.

After a moment of silence, Cobbler furrowed his brow. “Georgia? Sweetie, is everything all right?”

Then she lowered the letter, and he saw the happy tears in her eyes. “Daddy… I got in!”

Not caring about how dirty he got, he quickly swept her up and spun her around, the both of them laughing.

“That’s my girl!” he said proudly.

“Oh my, I… I shall have to tell everypony in town! But I need to reply to tell them I accept! And then I’ll need to--”

“Hush now,” Cobbler said, putting his hoof to her lips. “Let’s start by going back to the house to tell Auntie Bellum. I know she’ll want to hear this as well.”

She nodded, and then, to his surprise, she choked back a sob. “Oh… oh, Daddy, I never thought… well, I never thought I would live to see this day! I…”

He held her close. “There there, Georgia Peach,” he whispered, patting her gently. “That’s all behind us. The only thing that matters is that you’re here now. I’ll miss you while you’re away at school, but as long as you come visit your old dad and auntie now and again, I’ll be happy.”

She said nothing, but nodded against his chest.

“All right then. Now let’s find your Auntie.”




***


Twilight sat forward as if mesmerized.

“Then… the heart worked?” she asked. “She survived?”

Cobbler looked away. “I haven’t finished my story yet, Twilight,” he muttered. “Listen carefully, and I think you’ll finally understand the whole truth…”


***




11 years ago…

Two Royal Guards led Cobbler and Dr. Umahara and two more followed behind them as they were escorted from the train through the streets of Canterlot.

Cobbler kept his head up high, but Dr. Umahara did his best to avoid meeting the gazes of the onlookers who watched as they were led to the castle, through the halls, and back to that same meeting room they’d been to years before.

Celestia stood there along with Minister Medicine Hat.

At least that puffed-up fool Noble Gas isn’t here this time, Cobbler noted.

Celestia’s expression was dour, and she glared down at the pair of ponies before her.

Cobbler stared right back while Dr. Umahara merely bowed as low as he could.

“Animal testing,” she whispered. “Using poor, innocent creatures for your experiments. I knew you were desperate to prove your invention worked, Professor Cobbler, but I never imagined you’d do something like this.”

“You left me no choice,” Cobbler said. “I had to save my daughter’s life.”

“And yet it’s my understanding that your daughter is still in good health,” Celestia sighed. “It seems that she received a transplant, thus making all this a waste of time. You slaughtered those creatures for no reason.”

Medicine Hat coughed. “Actually,” she said, “there seems to be a question about her transplant.”

Dr. Umahara gulped loudly.

“We have no record of a donor,” she continued. “In fact, Your Majesty, there doesn’t seem to be any record of the surgery taking place.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Then where,” she asked, turning to scowl at Cobbler, “did you find a donor?”

Cobbler grinned. He started to chuckle. “‘A waste of time,’ you say?” he asked dryly.

Celestia gasped. “You… you didn’t.”

“My invention works, Your Majesty,” Cobbler said with a sneer. “You can arrest us if you like, but I saved my daughter, no thanks to you or the bureaucrats under you.”

Celestia took a step back. “I can’t believe it,” she breathed. “To replace a piece of your own daughter… her heart with a cold piece of machinery…”

“She’s alive, and that’s all that matters,” Cobbler said, shutting his eyes in resignation. “I don’t regret a thing. I don’t know how you discovered that we were testing on animals, but it doesn’t matter now.”

“How we learned isn’t important,” Medicine Hat said. “The point is, your illegal experiments are over. We raided your lab on that farm, and we’ve confiscated your notes as well as your ‘test subjects.’”

Cobbler’s eyes popped open. “Those aren’t yours. I demand--”

“You are in no position to demand anything,” Medicine Hat said.

“Y-your Majesty, please!” Dr. Umahara cried. “We’re still monitoring the subjects to see if any complications arise! If you must keep the records, I understand, but please, allow us access to the subjects! Should something go wrong with Georgia’s heart, we need to be able to anticipate it!”

Celestia’s frown deepened. “Medicine Hat?” she asked.

The normally unflappable Medicine Hat began to sweat. “We, ah… cannot return the subjects, Your Majesty,” she said. “We deemed their status as test subjects to be cruel and, um… euthanized them.”

“You what?!” Cobbler shouted.

“Then,” Dr. Umahara began, thinking quickly, “at least permit us to perform an autopsy.”

Medicine Hat bowed her head. “We had the remains cremated.”

“Idiot!” Cobbler screamed. “You imbecile! You’ve just wasted years of research!”

Celestia’s gaze turned stony. “Minister,” she said coldly, staring down at her. “In the future, you will consult with me before taking such hasty action. Is that understood?”

“Your Majesty, I was only acting as I thought you would wish me to--”

“Is that clear?” she repeated.

Medicine Hat knelt before her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“We will discuss this later, Minister. You’re dismissed for now,” she said, turning from Medicine Hat as she scurried out of the room.

Cobbler grit his teeth as Celestia approached him and Dr. Umahara once again.

“Professor Cobbler, as disturbed as I am by all this,” she said, addressing him, “I cannot fully blame you. In all my years, I’ve lost a great many friends. I, too, wished I could do something to save them. What you did was extreme, but I cannot fault you for your love of your daughter. Therefore, I am pardoning you of your crimes.”

Cobbler’s expression didn’t change, and he said nothing to her.

“Your experimental notes will remain sealed indefinitely, however,” she added. “I will not allow anypony else to follow in your hoofsteps.”

Cobbler only sniffed, but he kept his mouth shut.

“But you, Dr. Umahara,” Celestia said, walking over to him. “I expected more from you.”

Dr. Umahara was trembling but tried to stand up before her. “I… I was only trying to help my patient, Your Majesty,” he said.

“You took an oath to do no harm,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “You swore to abide by the laws of this land. But you allowed your sentiment and your friendship with Professor Cobbler to cloud your judgment. You butchered those animals. From what Medicine Hat tells me, you operated on dozens of them, nearly all of which died. And you put a still-unproven invention inside an innocent child. If she suffers from any unforeseen side effects, you will bear responsibility for them.”

Dr. Umahara swallowed. “I am aware of that,” he said.

Celestia shut her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Dr. Umahara, you are hereby stripped of your medical license.”

He stumbled as if struck and gasped as though about to burst into tears, but he somehow managed to keep his footing. He gave a short, trembling nod.

“You heartless old nag,” Cobbler hissed.

The guards bristled, but Celestia silenced them with a glance.

“Go home, Professor Cobbler and Dr. Umahara,” she said, turning from them. “I’m truly sorry this all happened, but be glad that at least you saved somepony’s life. I wish you both the best of luck.”


***


When Cobbler and Dr. Umahara returned to the Nation, riding the newly-furnished elevator to the growing underground city, they were greeted by ponies clad in black. Pictures of Cave Dweller adorned every building and wall.

“What is all this?” Cobbler asked as one of the chief scientists approached him.

“Professor Cobbler,” the scientist said, “President Cave Dweller passed away last night.”

Cobbler’s eyes went wide. “What? How?!” Then he paused, blinking. “Ah, right. All the tumors.”

“Um… actually, he died in an accident,” the scientist said, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You might not have noticed due to your work on the brain mapping project, but the president was becoming quite eccentric in the last few months. Perhaps it was the brain tumors, or just a desire to build something as memorable as the mechanical heart you created, Professor--”

“How. Did. He. Die?”

The scientist gulped. “He tried to make a shower curtain out of lemons and it caught on fire,” he said. “Annnd then he tried to weaponize it by making a combustible lemon. It misfired and he, uh… well, exploded. There are citrus-scented bits of him all over the--”

“All right, all right, that’s enough!” Cobbler shouted, holding up a hoof.

He heaved a sigh. Cave Dweller could be manipulative, immoral, and unscrupulous and was more in love with the idea of science than the actual practice, but he’d been his friend. He’d deserved better than to be riddled with tumors and then blown up by a lemon grenade.

“The question is, Professor,” the scientist said, “what will we do with the project?”

Cobbler blinked. “Ah. The brain mapping,” he said, nodding his head slowly. There was no reason to keep it up now that Cave Dweller was dead… there wasn’t exactly a brain to map, apparently.

But still, all that work… and the possible applications… but the ethical questions…

He shook his head, clearing it of doubtful thoughts. He’d had enough of overly cautious cowards who shrank from the light of scientific knowledge. He’d honor Cave by doing as he would’ve done.

“The project is still on,” he said. “We’ll pick things up tomorrow. In the meantime…”

He looked over his shoulder to where Dr. Umahara, his head still hanging low and his ears drooping, trailed behind him.

“...put Dr. Umahara on the medical team and give him a salary. If he can’t work on the surface, we’ll give him a position down here. I’m certain we could use a doctor.”

“Sir, that’s… that’s usually something the president decides, and I’m not sure--”

“Well, there is no president, and I’ll pay to cover that part of the budget myself, so just do it!” Cobbler shouted.

The scientist flinched, but then nodded obediently. “Y-yes, sir. I’ll see to it.”

“Good,” he said, turning from him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. I’ve had a very long day…”




***


“I thought, in spite of it all, that perhaps everything had been settled,” Cobbler said. “I thought that perhaps I could glide into my golden years safe in the knowledge that everything had been resolved. I even thought about withdrawing from the Group entirely once the brain mapping project was done. And on the day we completed our machine, I nearly turned in my resignation, intending to wish them the best of luck.”

Twilight watched him silently. She watched as his expression slowly became more pained.

“Then the message came from Georgia’s college. She’d collapsed while working in the greenhouse. She’d simply fallen, suddenly sc… screaming in agony. I rushed to the hospital to be by her side, and that’s when they told me her diagnosis.

“She had blood clots in her legs. And not just her legs, but many of her other organs as well. The artificial heart, for all its advantages, had one downside: when blood encounters a foreign substance, like the plastic or metal of Georgia’s mechanical heart, it tends to clot. We’d done our best to design around it, but it seemed that after a few years it had slowly built up. By the time we discovered it, the amount of anticoagulants Georgia would've needed would have thinned her blood to lethal levels.

“It’s something we would have known to look for if only we’d been able to continue studying our test subjects!”

He grit his teeth, his eyes hard. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rage.

“In… in any case, the diagnosis was simple: she’d need a new heart. A regular heart. But that put us back to the drawing board. The waiting list for hearts had barely moved in a decade, and she still had one of the rarest blood types.

“It broke her heart to come home from her studies, Twilight,” he said, looking over to her. She saw that faraway, haunted look in his eyes. “She thought she was well. She thought she would have her whole life ahead of her. She…”

He paused, swallowing, and shut his eyes. “She thought she would get to live. And, in those final months, she tried to hold onto the hope that a transplant would come through. That some miracle would happen.

“But it didn’t come. I sat at her side, day by day, as she lay bedridden in her hospital bed, her conditioning worsening. I had to watch her waste away. I…”

Twilight placed her hoof on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He let out a long sigh. “I loved her more than I loved my own life. So, in my desperation, in her final days, I took her, wheeled in a hospital bed, down to the Nation for the first and last time. I took her to that machine and asked her if she would allow us to use it. I thought she might refuse, or be disgusted with me, but sh-she…”

He choked back a sob.

“She just said, ‘If it’ll let me stay with you, Daddy, then I’ll do it.’” He wiped tears from his eyes. “So we scanned her. It took hours, but soon we had it: an artificial brain with a runic neural net forged in a titanium polygon the size of a soccer ball. Hundreds of thousands of runes, each containing a small portion of the information from her brain, networked together.

“After that, there was nothing to do but take her home one last time…”


***




Ten years ago…

Cobbler walked up the hall to Georgia’s room. She’d slept there as a filly, right up until she’d went to college a year ago, and now she was there once again.

But there was something in that heavy, dreadful march up the stairs, down the hall, and to her door. Somehow, he knew.

He knocked on her door.

There was no response, so he knocked more loudly.

“I said come in!” she called, her voice still faint in spite of her attempt to shout.

He entered, seeing her in that big, mountainous bed with pillows to prop up her head as she lay under the lacey canopy.

She was thin, almost gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes. She’d barely been eating. An oxygen mask was over her face. She’d been given drugs that numbed her to the pain. For that, at least, he was thankful.

“Hello there, Daddy,” she managed to say.

“Hello there, Georgia,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit by her bed. He managed a smile. “Are you feeling okay today, sweetie?”

“Oh, I feel just fine an’ dandy,” she said, offering a smile. Then she frowned. “Speaking of, I haven’t heard from Dandy Fine lately, now that I think about it. Is he doing well?”

Cobbler nodded. “He sent me a letter from his college. You know he went to Georgia Tech because it reminded him of you?”

She chuckled. “So he says. I think he’s just pullin’ my leg,” she said. “What did he say?”

“Oh, just that he would like to come visit you this weekend, if possible,” he replied.

“Mmm… that sounds nice,” she said. “He was always a nice boy.”

She took a deep breath. “Is Auntie Bellum doing all right?” she asked.

“Oh, you know her,” he said. “She’s getting along. But what’re you asking me for? She’s been right by your side the same as me!”

“I know, but,” she said, hesitating for a moment, “you and her both put on a brave face when you’re here. I’d swear that you two are in some sort of contest to prove who can be the stronger pony.”

Cobbler laughed. Then, slowly, his laughter gave way to tears.

“Oh… oh, I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, lifting her hoof to try and wipe his tears away. “I didn’t mean to trouble you so.”

“No, it’s just… you were always able to read me like an open book,” he replied. “Just like your mama.”

Georgia smiled. “Do you think, just maybe, that after I’ve... left, I’ll finally get to meet Mama?”

Cobbler’s lip quivered. “Maybe so,” he managed to say as the tears spilled down over his cheeks. “I’m sure she’s been waiting to meet you after all these years. And I just know she’ll love you to pieces.”

“Do you want me to tell her anything for you, Daddy?” she asked, placing her hooves on her father’s.





“I suppose,” he said, his voice breaking, “that she already knows. But still… tell her I miss her every day, and that I… well… I did my best.”

Georgia nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell her, Daddy.” She let out a long yawn. “Dear me… I’m just so tired these days… would it be all right if I went to sleep a little early?”

“You just go on ahead,” Cobbler replied. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Good night, Georgia. I love you.”

She slowly shut her eyes. “Good night, Daddy. I love you,” she murmured, a tranquil smile on her face.

He stayed at her bedside as she slept, watching her chest rise and fall ever more slowly until it became glacial.

She never woke up.




***


Twilight sniffled, letting the tears come. “Cobbler,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“When I lost my daughter,” he said, as if speaking to the air, as if nopony was even there, “I simply lost all sense of the world. Half of Mustangia came out to Georgia Peach’s funeral. Burning Bones came back to sing that silly ol’ song of his about her. Dandy Fine cried like a baby halfway through his eulogy. Even little Champ Umahara was there with flowers to put on his favorite babysitter’s grave. The whole house was full for her wake; there were ponies there I’d never seen before in my life, but somehow Georgia had brightened up their lives one way or another.

“But though I can remember it all, it still feels like a foggy memory, like I was barely there,” he said. “And in the days that followed, I wandered about my house, my orchard, and my businesses like a ghost. Though Auntie Bellum was grieving as well, she somehow tried to comfort me, to be strong enough to keep me going. But all I could think about was the fact that my little girl would never again speak to me. She’d never call me Daddy, she’d never show me what she’d planted in her garden, or grow up, get married, or have foals of her own. I just couldn’t imagine how I’d go on without her. After years of trying to save her life and coming so close, it was as though my mind just wouldn’t accept it, and it continued to seek a solution.

“And that’s when I remembered…”

A chill went down Twilight’s spine. “The brain scan,” she whispered. “The artificial brain you created.”

“You are perceptive as always, Twilight,” he said, nodding his head. “After all the effort creating an artificial brain, creating the body was practically child’s play. We fashioned a new automaton with the very best we could muster. We gave it cameras for eyes which could translate live images into data. We gave it a voice synthesizer. We made certain it could walk and run and do all that was needed. We made our first truly autonomous automaton.”

He gave a dry, rueful smile. “If I knew back then how it would turn out…”


***




In a circular room deep underground in the Nation, Cobbler leaned over a flat metal table in the middle of the room.

He peered into the open panel on the back of the thing lying on the table, giving the machinery one last inspection before activation. He pushed some wires aside, holding a small flashlight in his mouth to make sure it was all connected. He gave a nod, satisfied that it was ready, and closed the panel.

“Final inspection complete,” he said to the gathered group of engineers. “Are we ready to activate?”

The others all exchanged a look before one of them stepped forward, clearing her throat.

“Sir,” she said, biting her lip and pushing her glasses up her muzzle, “are you certain this is a good idea?”

He turned to her, giving her a sharp look. “We’ve been over this before,” he said. “We’re not turning back now.”

She swallowed, but stood her ground. “Professor, we all feel for your loss,” she said. “But all of us feel that this project is more than a little disturbing. I mean, this sounds like something out of Frankenstallion… trying to resurrect the dead…”

“Have you ever lost family, young lady?” Cobbler asked.

She paused, then nodded her head. “Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

“Would you give anything to speak to them once more?”

“I… I suppose so, sir, but still--”

“But nothing!” he snapped, turning from her. “We’re beyond the point of no return here. For better or worse, we will see this through like the scientists we are.”

The others all fell silent as Cobbler raised his hoof over the button on the automaton’s back.

“Now activating automaton Unit 001,” he said, and pushed the button.

An electrical hum was heard as the thing powered on. It twitched like an animal waking up. Its two camera eyes whirred and adjusted as a pale blue glow emanated from behind the lenses. Slowly, unsteadily, it picked itself up, raising its head as mechanical servos helped it balance on its thick metallic legs. It stood to its full height on the table, standing just a head shorter than Cobbler himself.

It turned its head around, taking in the sight of all the ponies staring up at it. Some began to whisper excitedly, realizing it was acting independently, as if on instinct. It was functioning!

Others backed away. There was something about the jerky, unnatural movement of the mechanical creature that felt wrong. Some remembered when the golem had activated, and wondered what this thing, essentially the golem’s descendent, would do next.

Cobbler cleared his throat. “Hello?” he asked softly, stepping forward. “Can you hear me?”

The automaton faced him, tilting its head to the left and right, its raggedy mane swaying back and forth with its momentum. It walked toward him.

“Watch out!” he cried.

It was too late. The machine walked right off the table, tumbling to the floor where it clattered loudly, making a sound like somepony dumping a crate of tin cans on the floor.

Cobbler was about to go to its side, but the thing managed to stand again. But the strange, hunched over look and the way it blankly turned to look at him sent a chill down his spine, and he took a step back.

Fighting the fear inside him, he stood his ground as Unit 001 approached him with the posture of a beast stalking its prey, save for the crooked way it held its head.

When it reached him, it stared at him intently, meeting his gaze.

His throat went dry.

“G-Georgia?” he whispered. “It’s… it’s Daddy. Do you know me?”

The thing continued to stare. Then it moved its hinged jaw as it tried to speak.

A low, barely audible sound, like a bear clearing its throat, came from the automaton. Then it stopped, twitching its ears, and reared back.

“BAAAAAUUGGHHKKKKT!”

Everypony gave a start, wincing as they covered their ears at the unearthly, synthetic screech that the thing made.

As quickly as the sound started, it stopped. The automaton glanced to the left and right. It walked over to a nearby table where there were tools placed on a tray. It knocked the tray over, letting the tools clatter.

“Bing clang bonk,” it said, as if repeating the sounds of the tools hitting the ground. Then it walked right into the bare rock wall face first, the ringing sound of its head echoing throughout the room.

“Bonnngg!” the thing said, mimicking the sound. It proceeded to smack its own head against the wall, making the ringing sound again and again.

“Georgia!” Cobbler shouted, rushing over to it. “Stop it! It’s… it’s me! I’m your Daddy! Try to remember!”

The automaton stopped. It turned to him again. “Geo… Geo…”

He gasped, hope flashing in his eyes.

“Jojo da. Jojo dadee. Deeda Jo. Jojodeedajodaja.”

It babbled like that, walking around the room, bumping into things and making nonsensical noises.

Cobbler slumped to the ground.

“Georgia,” he whispered, staring at the thing he’d created in disbelief. “I… what have I done?”




***


“I spent months trying to get through to that… that thing,” Cobbler sighed. “I sent Auntie Bellum on a long vacation to spare her the horror of what I’d done and took Unit 001 to my home. I let it stay in Georgia’s room, wander her garden, walk among the peach trees, singing songs to it, reading it passages from Georgia’s favorite books. Occasionally, once in a rare while, there would be little flashes of something that would give me hope… she’d say something that sounded like Georgia herself…”

He hung his head, shaking it. “But it wasn’t her, Twilight,” he said. “Something had been lost in the mapping process. It mapped the structure, but the memories, the things that made Georgia who she was, were never preserved. When I finally accepted that, it was as though my daughter had died a second time. But I suppose it was for the best. Can you imagine what it would have been like if it had worked? To be trapped in a body that could not feel? To never smell a flower or taste a slice of peach pie? I swear, I must have been insane to think Georgia would have wanted a life like that.”

Twilight bowed her head. “I can’t say that I agree with what you tried to do,” she said. “But I understand. You loved your daughter and couldn’t say goodbye. I don’t blame you.”

Cobbler turned to stare at her, his mouth hanging open. “You...” he began. Then he smiled, chuckling slightly. “You certainly are a kindhearted pony. Of all the things I’d done, Twilight, I thought that might be the one thing you would never forgive me for.”

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t know if I would ever have done the same if I were in your place,” she said. “But I can understand.”

Cobbler smiled and heaved another long sigh. “I suppose there’s not much to tell after that,” he said. “My reputation among the Group had grown to the point where they considered me a leader. They asked me to become president, a position I accepted, filling Cave Dweller’s shoes. I put my business sense to work, expanded our efforts and our scope, and pushed us to strive not for an independent nation, but for a democracy for all Equestria! And the first order of business, I declared, would be ending that tyrant Celestia’s rule!”

Twilight frowned, but said nothing, at least for the time being.

“Young Champ Umahara, having grown up among so many scientists, began to show his own talent as a child prodigy. He’s been with us since he was 12 years old. His father, sadly, never got over losing his reputation as a doctor, and one day he simply quit the group and went off to become a veterinarian in some tiny village. I haven’t seen him years, but his son never forgave Celestia for what she’d done to his family. He’s been vital to our organization, and his ability to utilize and adapt the runic data for other machines is astonishing.”

Twilight frowned. “What happened to Unit 001?” she asked.

“Unit 001 was simply unmanageable,” Cobbler replied. “We deactivated her and placed her into storage. However, we took what we learned, added an extra layer of stability programming to the second version of the neural net, and a few years later built Unit 002. She was of a much sturdier mind, even though she was a blank slate. We taught her language, gave her a wealth of knowledge, and used her to test our theories. She’s now an invaluable assistant to the cause, and she was especially helpful in the creation of the 003 automata.”

Twilight nodded, but then froze. “Wait,” she said, “did you say automata? As in, plural?!”

Cobbler smirked. “The machine you call Turing Test was designated Unit 003M. But we built two. The other was Unit 003S. A stallion.”

“Turing,” Twilight breathed, “has a twin brother.”

Cobbler shook his head. “Unit 001 and 002 were both basic models without alternate modes. We attempted to create our next automata with the ability to mimic other ponies’ natural abilities. But during a test of all three of Unit 003S’s modes, there was an accident. The heat from using all three at once fried his circuits, detonated his thaumatrium reserves, and damaged his neural net beyond salvage. Unit 003M was still under construction, so we used her sibling’s parts to complete her. That’s why her ears don’t fit quite right, and that’s why they squeak so dang much.”

Twilight gawked at him. She wasn’t even sure what to make of this: Cobbler had just told her, in one fell swoop, that Turing had once had a brother, but that now he was dead. How would that make the Turing she knew feel, she wondered.

“We added the Mode Switch as a safety feature,” Cobbler said, “and the rest, well, is history.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That is my story, Twilight Sparkle. I apologize for its length, and I’m sorry it isn’t a happier one. But you can change that.”

Twilight frowned. “Cobbler…”

“You’ve heard what Celestia did,” Cobbler said. “Her ignorance and fear held back countless brilliant minds and, combined with myopic bureaucracy, have shelved a potentially lifesaving invention and cost the life of an innocent girl!”

Twilight swallowed, but said nothing.

“Don’t you see?!” he shouted, getting to his hooves. “She murdered my daughter! Who knows how many other ponies she’s allowed to die by not permitting science and technology to progress? This must end! Celestia’s reign must end! And it will end this very day, at dawn: the day Georgia Peach, ten years ago, lost her life!”

Twilight stared up at him, seeing the rage, the absolute hatred in his eyes, and then turned away, unable to look at it any longer.

“Twilight,” he said, calming down. “You can help me. You can be the one to help heal this nation and give it the freedom it truly deserves. Please… please join us.”

Twilight shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m glad you told me that story,” she said. “You are right… what Celestia did was wrong. She should have allowed more trials and at least given ponies the choice to take the risk. She should have chosen better advisers. She shouldn’t have held back technology for the last century.”

Cobbler’s eyes widened, and he began to smile. “Then you will help us?”

She shook her head. “No, Professor Cobbler,” she said. “What Celestia did certainly cost your daughter her life, but Medicine Hat was right about one thing: you really were too zealous. You might have needlessly killed numerous ponies trying to save Georgia Peach. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry she died, but what you’re doing will almost certainly result in more deaths. Far more deaths than Celestia ever caused by her inaction, her attempt to protect her subjects. What you’re doing will actively cause a civil war!”

“If you help--”

“Can you honestly say that nopony will die even with my help?!” she cried.

He paused, then bowed his head.

“Ponies will die one way or another,” he whispered. “Countless ones by her policies, or a limited number now due to our actions. It is only right.”

Twilight stood up to face him. “Cobbler, think about this!” she shouted. “I’m begging you to stop before it’s too late! Think about your daughter… these aren’t just statistics! How many fathers, brothers, and daughters will be lost in this war? Hundreds? Thousands?! There has to be a better way, one without striking back at Celestia!”

“No!” he shouted back. “She must pay! I won’t stomach another day of her rule! I’ll see her deposed or die trying!”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “And that’s why I can’t help you,” she said. “Even with all your talk about democracy and freedom and innovation, deep down this is just about revenge.” Then her expression softened, and she looked at him with sadness. “What happened to your daughter was a tragedy; please don’t let her death be the reason for an even worse tragedy, Professor. Revenge and hatred are never the answer.”

Cobbler’s face twisted into a mask of rage and grief. “She killed Georgia, Twilight,” he hissed. “You think you can lecture me about morality?”

He stepped closer, getting right in her face, close enough to feel the breath from his nostrils. He stared her right in the eyes, as though staring into her soul.

“When you’re forced to bury your baby, Twilight Sparkle,” he whispered, “then you can tell me that my hatred isn’t justified.”

He donned his hat once again and walked to the door, leaving a stunned Twilight behind. He was at the door, ready to knock and let the guards know he was ready to leave, when he heard Twilight say, “It’s true that I don’t have children.”

Cobbler stopped, turning to look at her over his shoulder. She was staring back at him, her eyes filled with… sadness? Or could it actually be pity?

“I don’t have a daughter,” she said. “But there was a pony that I took in, cared for, taught what I knew, and watched grow into her own person. I don’t know if that makes her my daughter or not, but it certainly means something. And you took her away and treated her like a mindless slave. But if I can understand you, if I can at least try to forgive you and not hate you for what you’ve done, then why can’t you do the same?”

Cobbler smirked. “You truly are a kind, innocent soul,” he said. “Goodbye, Princess Twilight.”

Without another word, he walked out the door.

Twilight sat alone in her room. She hung her head, exhausted after hearing Cobbler’s long, tragic tale. She wondered how a pony with such high-minded goals could let himself become so twisted, so blind to the harm he was causing.

And to hear how he’d used the scans from his own daughter, to learn that Turing’s mind was the third iteration of a scan from a dead girl’s brain… she wasn’t certain how to feel. Was Turing really her own pony? Was she Georgia? Was she the distant echo, the ghost of somepony long since passed?

She paused, then smiled to herself, shaking her head. It doesn’t matter, she told herself. Turing Test is still Turing Test. They can take her memory, they can tell me she’s just a brain scan, they can tell me she’s a machine, but the only thing that counts is that she’s my friend. I just wish I knew how to save her… There has to be a way out of this! I have to find Turing and my other friends and stop Cobbler before he attacks Canterlot!

But how?

There was a knock at the door.

“H-hello?” she asked, wondering if it was Cobbler again.

The door opened. It was Unit 003, the pony she once called Turing Test.

“Greetings, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “I am here to fulfill my directive.”


To be continued...