//------------------------------// // Chapter 22 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// Diane felt the weight of the world on her shoulders that frigid desert night. Waiting outside the commander’s tent, she restlessly shifted about in her chains. They mostly served as a gesture of supplication, as chains could hardly be expected to contain any fighting Rhod. Rubbing her abdomen, she tried to quell a terrible sense of fear. She didn’t know if her child could feel her stress, but pregnancy had injected a sense of superstition into her. She supposed this was appropriate, as her mere presence above-ground was a pseudo-religious act of faith. Anxiously, she turned her attention to the bracelet around her wrist—a protective charm. Was it truly magical, or was it just a whimsical touch from the Great One? She honestly couldn’t tell with him at times. Still, he had guaranteed her safety and that of her child, so she had to trust that. As the flaps of the tent parted, Diane was met by an incisive scowl. The middle-aged man she now faced simply looked tired. His face had been thoroughly baked by the desert sun, his red fighting vest was torn in places, and his hair had grayed and thinned. “This way,” he said, curtly, quickly breaking eye-contact. “The general will see you now.” Diane mouthed the word before saying it. It was a lonely, weighty word that took immense effort from her. The word, which she had excised from her vocabulary, had a bittersweet ring to it, its single-syllable comprising a cacophony of dissonant intonations. “...Dad…” Lawrence stopped, dropping his hands to his sides but not turning. “I have nothing to say to you, Cub.” The word, spoken with a soft disdain, caused Diane to flinch as if struck. Somehow his word choice pummeled her with its compressed venom. He could have called her a lot of things, but she doubted any of them would have hurt nearly as much. Diane looked down, past her ceremonial Ayabna clothes and at the weathered soil. As she followed the stranger in front of her, she mentally stitched the cracks and imagined pulling the gaps together again. As a sentimental touch, she imagined plants blooming too. The tent was small, but she nonetheless waited until she had arrived at the middle to look up again. Brigadier General João O’Higgins looked much as she had remembered him: pointy white beard trimmed into a diamond shape, scars lining his face, not a single stray hair seen atop his head, garbed in a classical black button-up uniform with pauldrons. “So one of you turncoats actually has the gall to poke her head out from the burrow. Tell me: do you have a single pearl of humanity left within your addled mind to comprehend shame?” “I come bearing a message,” Diane said simply. “Obviously. Now, what makes you think we have any interest in hearing it?” The hybrid girl didn’t hesitate: “The fact that I’m standing before you, even in chains, is evidence enough of your interest.” “Oh, so it looks like going feral hasn’t completely compromised your reason. Well, you’re on point: I have no interest in negotiating with animals, and if it weren’t for the fact that I once regarded you very highly, your antlered head would already be rolling on the ground. So, speak! But choose your words wisely, Captain.” At first, Diane mistook his use of her former title as a humanizing touch; however, cynicism set in and she realized it was likely a subconscious ploy to get her to buy into his authority once more. “All I can offer you is what Prism Caller shared with me. Rhod is a fragile world—too fragile to endure reckless industrialization. Its ecosystem is sparse, it has almost no wildlife, and natural resources are scarce. The fact that the Ayabna”— she stumbled over the word, but nonetheless continued forcefully—”even exist is a miracle. They have persevered against impossible odds. And slowly they are changing Rhod for the better. Their hybridization breeding programs have created plants and insects that thrive in the total absence of water. Rhod isn’t a dead-end, and we shouldn’t discard it as one.” The old man sighed and shook his head. “Because I once respected you, I won’t rehash dogma with you. Notwithstanding, there’s always our right to Rhod by the doctrine of adverse possession; our divine right to preserve our human forms and the spirit of human ingenuity and progress.” Diane swallowed hard. She had been extensively prepared to address every one of those points in dozens of mock debates. “But you bears have already doubtlessly cooked up a justification, and I’m not about to waste my time walking into a canned answer. So you tell me: how’s it in the interest of us humans to save “your” world? That’s what it comes down to, right? You think this arid rock is something worth preserving. Well, we don’t! Can you overcome that gap?” She would only have one shot at this. O’Higgins’s patience was at its end. He wanted her best argument here and now. But isolated from its premises, it’s so hollow, she thought. Nonetheless she had to try, so she took a deep breath. “Probability,” she said emphatically. “The odds of finding a world superior to Rhod are miniscule—even on the off chance our—uhh... your technology reaches Colonization Age levels. The bottom line is that you can’t abandon Rhod for the prayer of a more prosperous future. Rhod is difficult, Rhod will demand we sacrifice and evolve with it, but Rhod’s still more than an empty promise.” The old man seemed to age another decade in a single moment. Inscribed on his face was not rage, not epiphany, but disappointment as he languidly shook his head. “So your faith in the Rhod race was so easily spent. No wonder we lost…” No words would come, so Diane waited out the long pause. She glanced timidly at Lawrence, but the tired Lieutenant Colonel refused to meet her gaze. “You so easily came to believe that we were that short-sighted. That we’d cut off our noses to spite our face.” He sighed. “Follow me.” “Sir, you don’t mean…” “Yes, old friend, bring the shovel. Maybe they’ll finally leave us alone this way. Out of pity if nothing else...” Despite the Rhods’ lack of night-vision they nonetheless were able to lead the way for about half a mile. Seemingly at random, they circled around until finally they came to a one-armed cactus. As Lawrence dug, O’Higgins looked around obsessively on the off chance he could perceive any sort of threat. Still, Diane didn’t have to wait long until the Lieutenant Colonel hit something hard. To her changed eyes it shone bright—white as bone. As he excavated it, she was slowly able to make out the shape of a chest. Reaching into his pocket, O’Higgins retrieved an obsidian key and unlocked the chest. He opened it to reveal a palm-sized translucent rectangle made of an otherworldly plastic-like material. It was lounging on a cushion of red velvet. “What—what is it?” “Restitution,” the old man answered. “In the form of a single share of stock.” Her jaw dropped. There had been rumors—legends, but voicing them aloud always risked severe punishment. So naturally, everyone had heard them. “So this is…” O”Higgins nodded. “Payment for our race’s indentured servitude.” To Diane’s horror, the old man than proceeded to spit on the alien artifact. “Some gift—more like an ultimatum! When the first King of Rhods was given this, we were provided only the barest of hints—what it was, the company’s motto and a deadline.” “What’s—” “The motto? “All or nothing.” The deadline? Five-hundred years.” Diane racked her brain for any hint at what the old man was getting at. He waved her off. “Don’t bother. It took us hundreds of years to finally put it all together.” “All or nothing refers to unanimous decisionmaking. Our one share of stock is one vote—a veto power in other words.” “A veto? For what purpose?” Diane asked thoughtfully. “Anything and everything averse to our interests. A return to slavery, the extinction of our race, the destruction of your precious Rhod. They could do any of these and more. And that’s all we have. We don’t know the place, we don’t know the company’s name, we don’t even know the language, but we have to be there in less than two-hundred years to vote.” Diane summoned her courage and stood up to O’Higgins. “Isn’t that all conjecture. Aren’t you just grasping at straws here? O’Higgins laughed derisively. “Don’t take my word for it. Ask the accursed thing yourself.” “What—” “HAHAHAHAHA!” came a synthesized laughter. Diane froze. “Yes, Rhod female! The alien artifact can talk,” the Share taunted. “And my the things it has to say! But now that you know the secret I have a proposition for you.” “NO!” Lawrence shouted. “She’s not human anymore.” “Am I not her inheritance as well?” the Share asked sardonically. “So tell me, Rhod female I have an all-or-nothing proposition for you: sell me! Sell me back to the company and receive anything you want—all the luxuries you could ever dream of for the remainder of your finite lifespan." “No,” Diane answered instantaneously. “Let’s see what your heart really says…” A brilliant white light shot out of the translucent rectangle and into Diane. “No greed at all, such a shame. Well there’s always next time!” Cackling, the artifact grew dim. “What was—” “Another test,” O’Higgins explained, exhaling in relief. “All or nothing. If a single Rhod accepts his offer, it’s over for all of us. Thus, our race too must remain unanimous.” A flurry of thoughts and emotions cascaded through the hybrid Rhod. “Why did you…” The brigadier general looked her dead in the eye. “Tell your Great One whatever you want about what you have witnessed tonight. Knowing what you now know, maybe you’ll let us go down swinging.” Diane braced herself for reprimand and spoke: “You’ll need help.” “Save it!” Lawrence bellowed, slamming the chest shut. “Go back to your little colony and let us humans worry about our future.” “But—” Diane felt the sensation of a chilling tendril gripping her mind. But are you still human? The synthesized voice asked. Could you have accepted my offer even if you wanted to? The shareholders will have to vote on that one... “And that’s why strawberries make the best cupcake fillings!” the crystal filly explained to Trusty. What is it with pink ponies anyway!? I thought to myself, staring down my fellow exchange student. It’s like they’re wired to be extra quirky. That morning, we were treated to the exchange filly talking our ear off on the way to Canterlot First. In a few, unnaturally long minutes we learned her favorite foods, songs, colors, places, classmates and school subjects in rapid-fire format. Star occasionally looked back with an apologetic expression, while Trusty seemed to revel in the small-talk. For the moment, I was actually grateful for the distraction, as it beat worrying about whether my secret would hold. But I still cringed in anticipation of this being every morning for the conceivable future. “I’m just so excited to be part of this program!” Pink Diamond said, excitement bubbling over. “The opportunity came up, I asked my parents to participate and not two weeks later I’m here in Canterlot! How’d it happen for you, River? I would have applied a lot sooner if I had known about it. How’d you get early bird rights, anyway?” Star looked back at me and smiled, curious about how I would answer. “Umm… I signed with the Junior Policeponies Guild for two years, so I was entered in a drawing and I got chosen to go to Canterlot. The idea is that policeponies have to be ready to be transferred to another precinct.” “I don’t know what a pre-sink is, but that sounds neat! So you didn’t know where you would end up?” “Well I had the final say, I could have refused if I didn’t want to go.” “Why would you ever say no? This is the opportunity of a lifetime.” The filly said, hopping in place. “Well, if it was—” I paused “Ponyville, I would have said no.” “Are you kidding?” Pink Diamond asked in disbelief. “Ponyville is amazing! That’s where the one-thousandth Summer Sun Celebration was and where Princess Luna returned. And more recently, it’s become the home of the newest Princess, Twilight Sparkle! As well as Spike the dragon, hero of the Crystal Empire!” Am I breaking character here? Is Ponyville really that famous or amazing? I looked for clues in Star’s expression and found no evidence that I had slipped. “I just like Canterlot I guess. It’s a lot bigger, and umm…” “Bigger isn’t always better,” Diamond said, “but for Canterlot, I think it is. Everything’s bigger here.” The filly outstretched her forelegs for emphasis. “Like this stallion!” “Umm… thanks,” the gruff black stallion grunted, confused at being used as a prop. “There are so many things I’m excited about—like meeting my new classmates. Ooh! What can you tell me about them, River? Are there a lot of ponies like us? Ones without wings or horns I mean? Are they friendly? Do they have any inside jokes I should pretend to find funny in order to fit in?” “They are mostly unicorns—” “Really that’s so cool! We don’t have any pegasi or unicorns at Crystal Northwestern!” I gave her a sedate glare. “Heh. Sorry. Continue.” “Well the most important pony—other than the teacher—is probably Zephyr Zap. She knows everypony. Next most important is Annuity. Chances are she’ll bully you, so try not to show her weakness.” Pink Diamond smiled. “Pfft. What are you saying, River? Most ponies are warm and squishy on the inside once you get to know them!” I snorted. As if that could be true. Then I remembered where I was. If I balked at her, Equestria would probably prove the pony right and before I knew it, she, Bulwark, Annuity and I would be having filly sleepovers complete with gossiping about cute colts. True, Annuity was petty, but her childish bullying was some welcome variety. In I way, I liked disliking her and wanted to keep it that way. “You’re probably right. Go be the best friend to Annuity you can be!” Star turned her head and raised a judgmental eyebrow. “Thanks,” Diamond said. “I’ll make the princess proud.” “We’re here,” Trusty announced as we turned the corner into the schoolyard. “Thanks, Trusty!” Diamond said. “I’ll see you after school.” Trusty smiled warmly. “Don’t hurry back to me. Try to make some friends after school.” “Sir, yes sir,” Diamond said, saluting. Trusty chortled. The filly then ran towards the school building. I motioned to follow her but I felt Star’s teeth tugging at my tail. Confused, I looked back at the mare. “Watch out for her, will you?” I shrugged. “I’ll try. I’m not sure I can protect her from herself, but she’ll probably be fine. Most of the ponies are nice, anyway.” Star let out a concerned sigh. “Please try. She’s fragile that one…” “Literally?” I asked, genuinely curious. “No, Alice, crystal ponies are not actually made of crystal. It’s just a magical effect that makes them appear that way. So, will you watch out for her?” “Fine. It’s not like she can be any more fragile than Bulwark…” Star shook her head. “Don’t be so quick to judge. Bulwark isn’t normally one to cry; she just likes you a lot.” I turned around. Pink Diamond had been unsuccessful at luring anypony away from their game of tag and was by herself. I trotted towards her as the bell rang, Star and Trusty waving me off. I was the third student in, just in time to be the audience for some pony shenanigans. “Is anypony sitting here?” Diamond asked. “Yes,” Zap said with a big smile. She jogged across the room. “Here?” “Yes.” “How about here?” “Yes.” “Well does anypony sit here?” Zap giggled as the crystal filly squeezed into the same desk she was occupying. By her blushing, I didn’t think the filly was trying to be funny. “Ooh! I have a good feeling about this desk,’ Diamond said. “What about here? Is anypony sitting here?” Zap smiled. “No pony is sitting in that desk, no.” “Great! Then I claim this desk in the name of the Crystal Empire!” “What are you doing in Iron Jill’s desk!?” The minotaur bellowed. Catching sight of the cow-girl, the filly went pale. “Eeep I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. Please don’t get mad.” “Iron Jill’s not angry. Iron Jill just has no inside voice!” This reassurance didn’t stop the filly from cowering as she retreated towards the front of the room. Most of the class had arrived in the interim, taking their assigned seats. As Annuity sat, I noticed her take note of the crystal pony’s blank flank, and a predatory grin came to her muzzle. She wasn’t the only one taking notice of Pink Diamond, as the room started to murmur. “Who’s she?” “I thought we were already filled to capacity.” “Isn’t it a bit late for a transfer student?” “Is she… sparkling?” It was then that Mrs. Fizzle stepped up to answer everypony’s questions. Clearing her throat she stepped up behind the podium and clapped. “Everypony, settle down! I have an exciting announcement to make! Your classmate, Cotton Candy, was selected for an exchange program with the Crystal Empire. She will be staying at the Crystal Palace as a guest of Princess Cadance while studying at Crystal Northwestern Elementary.” Which pony is she again? I asked myself, despite having a fairly good grasp on my classmates by now. “Cotton Candy? You mean the unicorn filly with no distinguishing characteristics or meaningful relationships with any of us?” Squirt asked. “Thanks, Exposition Sayer,” Stardust snarked from the back of the room. For some reason, Squirt blushed upon hearing the filly’s rebuke. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, Squirt. Surely somepony here is friends with her.” Fizzle waited a beat with her forelegs outstretched. “...anypony…?” Wow. No wonder she left. “Ahem... moving on, I am happy to announce, that Crystal Northwestern Elementary sent us one of their students in the exchange program. Like River, she will be staying in the palace and will have the opportunity to learn from Princess Celestia herself.” Some mouths went agape in envy. Other ponies turned to look at me accusingly. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, my little pony.” “Okay!” Diamond said, jumping in front of the podium with a huge smile on her face. “Hello, everypony, my name is Pink Diamond! I’m thirty-seven years old, I love Sapphire Shores, and my favorite dance is the salsa!” The room was silent. “Not to interrupt, Diamond dear, but we have a lot to cover today. Still, we can spare a few minutes to ask our new friend some questions.” A few hooves rose into the air. “Yes, Annuity?” “Why are you sparkling?” “Well, I’m a crystal pony. It’s what we do…” “Can you stop?” “No?” she said, confused. “Well, doesn’t the glare get kind of tiring after a while? The filly frowned. “No, I don’t think so…” Annuity had clearly thought of something else to say, but a stern look from Mrs. Fizzle convinced her not to press any more. “Little Pinion,” Fizzle called, pointing to the the chocolate-coated unicorn behind Jill. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked. That’s original… “Pink!” What a surprise… Fizzle gestured around the room with her forehoof. “One more… yes, Style!” “Can I do your mane?” the orange filly asked. “It’s real pretty.” “Any time!” Diamond said, perky. “And thanks!” she added, straightening her short lavender mane. “Now I’m sure you’re all eager to catch up with Pink Diamond and ask her all about the Crystal Empire, but that will have to wait until recess. We’ll start with what you’ve all been waiting for: the presentation of the songs you wrote!” Ponyfeathers! I forgot all about that. “First up is River Glade and Squirt with ‘Everypony is Special.” Judging by her tone, Fizzle seemed to already suspect a dearth of creativity. I took a deep breath and joined Squirt at the front of the class. This is going to suck... When we had finished I let out a sigh of relief. I had gone the entire song without my singing voice cracking. Squirt looked around expectantly, but the pony children were surprisingly judgmental. “So, River, what made you choose that theme?” Fizzle asked. “Uhh… it was Squirt’s idea.” The colt looked a little betrayed, but he quickly faced the music. “I thought it would be a fun idea to sing about everypony’s talent.” “It’s not that similar to what we’ve done in class, right?” I asked somewhat nervously. “Well, no, but your cutie mark poems are due in three weeks, so I had hoped you would have chosen a different topic.” “How were we supposed to know that?” Squirt asked in disbelief. “It’s on the syllabus,” Fizzle said, impatient. “Anyhow, I sense that your hearts weren’t in the song.” “Sorry,” I whispered to Squirt. Part of that must have been from my lack of confidence in my colt singing voice. Squirt shook his head at my apology. “Also, the part about you no longer fits, Squirt,” Fizzle critiqued. “You have your cutie mark now.” “Well we wrote that before, and I didn’t want to change it,” Squirt argued. “You need to put your best hoof forward, boys. Take some more pride in your work.” “Yeah, what’s up with my verse, anyway?” Gilded Acres asked. “My talent isn’t ‘guiding produce to the store’ it’s industrial-scale agribusiness.” “Same thing…” Squirt muttered. He got a few laughs, but Fizzle didn’t approve. “Boys you did try, but I know you can do better. Here you go,” she said, handing over a paper with a large C+ on it.” Squirt smiled slightly. “Why didn’t you say so. I’ll gladly take that grade on an assignment that la—err tough.” Annuity was smirking at me, but my sentiment echoed Squirt’s: I was completely satisfied just to have it over and done with. However, that feeling only lasted until the next song. Silver Lining and Skywatcher actually had the gall to sing about how their friendship was like magic. And Fizzle had nothing but praise for them! What the heck! How is that better than ours? Their theme is even more cliched. Instead of criticizing them like she had with us, Fizzle asked about some of the details of the song, and the two colts went into great detail about individual stanzas and rhymes. All told, they were awarded an A for their efforts. Apparently we didn’t have to just come up with a pony song, we had to like doing it! I boiled at the injustice. Beakington and Jill sang about their adjustments moving to Equestria. Although, they were among the least talented singers, Fizzle still liked the personal touch of their song. Bubble Bauble and Annuity rapped about how great they were, making frequent reference to the size of their family holdings as well as how all the colts wanted to date them. Naturally, they got an A+. Fizzle loved their “self-confidence.” Clever Theorem had been Cotton Candy’s partner, so when their song came up Mrs. Fizzle awkwardly took Cotton Candy's place in the duet. Despite Pink Diamond’s willingness to volunteer, Fizzle thought it would be unfair for her to be graded on somepony else’s work. The song presentations took up most of the morning. By the time Windy Skies and Mortar Strike finished with a song about the weather, I had nearly nodded off. The pegasi used strange figurative language like “kicking clouds” and “bringing in the rain,” but I could appreciate that it was a better song than ours. On cue, the recess bell rang and everypony started to file out. I saw Pink Diamond lock in on Annuity, and, curious, I followed her out. However, Style and Stardust intercepted us. “Wow. So you get personal lessons from the princess in the exchange program? I’m jealous,” Stardust said. Pink Diamond blushed. “Tell us all about it!” Style insisted. “It was great! She started by asking me what I thought friendship was. And I said like, it’s the warm feeling when I’m around other ponies that I like. She told me this was a good definition, and I was happy. But then she said that there was more to friendship than just that, and I was sad because I disappointed her, but then she said ‘there are no wrong answers, my little pony,’ and I was so happy. She called me her little pony and I felt so special. She explained that there’s more to friendship than the immediate feeling of happiness when you’re around other ponies. There’s also the unbreakable bond when you’re apart! She’s so wise.” Style and Stardust were soaking in every word, clearly wanting more. “And that’s all she told me,” Diamond said, and the fillies’ disappointment showed through. “But if you want more, you should ask River, who's been taking friendship lessons with Princess Celestia way longer than I have.” As if redirecting a firehose, Diamond trained the fillies’ expectant smiles on me at full blast. Not good. Not good! “Yeah,” Style said. “You never told us about that. We want to hear all the details!” I froze. I almost found myself wishing Celestia had given me some sham friendship lessons. As much as I didn’t want to have to do this, I had to for fear of losing my cover story. “Well the first thing she taught me was the importance of being honest with friends. Lies may seem convenient at times, but to keep up with them demands a juggling act that becomes exponentially more difficult. You don’t realize at first how many more lies you have to tell just to support the initial fib. So that was a good cautionary tale.” “How would she know?” Stardust naively asked. “I bet she’s never lied about anything.” You have no idea… “What else? What else?” Sunny Style asked, hyper. “Uhhh… it’s important to be able to forgive your friends,” I stammered. “Friends are worth more than principles, and you want to be able to forgive other ponies not just for them but for you. That way you don’t have to carry the bad emotions around.” “She’s so wise,” Stardust said dreamily. “What else?” “Okay, last thing!” I insisted to their chagrin. “Friendship is… uhhh…. like farming.” “Farming?” Style asked, confused. “Yeah, umm.. you harvest the seeds from the friends you make and plant them to make new friends. You know, like the ponies you meet because of your friends. That’s the secret to making a lot of friends—meeting your friends’ friends.” Style smiled. “You really know a lot, River,” she said. “We’ll have to come to you if we ever have any friendship problems.” I had to quickly turn my reflexive scowl into a smile as the two of them trotted away happy. “Wow, River, Princess Celestia really taught you a lot! I can’t wait for my next lesson!” I glared at her. What did you just get me into? “Are you upset about something, River?” I stomped a hoof. You think? “No, I’m not upset about anything,” I said, forcing a smile. “Well that’s good,” she said blithely. “I’m going to go make friends with Annuity.” “You do that,” I said, letting her trot a few paces ahead of me. However, guilt over my promise to Star took over and I started to follow her. “Hey, River!” Thaumaturgical called out. “HI, Spectacle,” I said awkwardly. Although Zap had resolved our conflict, it was still kind of awkward facing him after acting so childishly myself. There was also another issue... Do you like Spectacle? Bulwark’s voice echoed in my head. I blushed and shook my head before smiling awkwardly at Spectacle. No way. If I’m going to start falling for colts, I have to be more selective. I had to admit that being a popular girl like Liu had its appeal. Although, it must be harder to keep multiple colts wrapped around your little finger when fillies outnumber them. What the hay am I thinking... “What’s up?” I asked Spectacle He smiled. “Not much. It’s just nice to be on speaking terms again. I really am sorry for not telling you. Though Pestle says the potion should be wearing off soon, so that’s good.” I looked around the room. Gilded Acres and Daybreak were back to their original mane colors, while Pish and Posh were still sporting a faded green. Good to know. I’ll wear the ring again starting tomorrow. “Hmm…” Pestle hummed. “Your dyed colors still seem fairly solid. Interesting.” She grabbed my tail with her mouth to get a closer look. Startled, I quickly pulled away, whipping my tail back into position. “What are you doing!?” Pestle started chewing on a hair she had pulled off my tail. “Yet, I can’t taste even the slightest bit of antelope sprig… How can the potion still be so strongly in effect?” Without acknowledging her invasion of my personal space the filly trotted off muttering to herself, still chewing on the hair. She reminded me of the Professor—in a bad way. “Wait up, Pestle,” Spectacle called out, chasing her. Following them, I exited the school building and saw Annuity smiling down at Diamond from atop the little hill at the center of the playground. “Sure, I’d love to be your friend,” Annuity said with zero believability. “Great,” Diamond said, completely oblivious. “River thought you would be mean to me.” Annuity forced a laugh as she grinned at me out of the corner of her mouth. “Now why would he think that? Although, I am a bit curious if a blank flank is cool enough to hang out with us, so I have a little test.” This actually made the crystal filly even more eager. “Name it!” “Let’s play a game of Gauntlet Tag. Me against you. I inched closer, still highly suspicious of Annuity. Nevertheless I was curious about finally learning the rules of this popular new tag variant. It was simpler than I had expected: Each team had five players. The captain of each team had to tag the opposing five in order, ending with the opposing captain. The one twist was that the players that were tagged out could re-enter the game to help their captain tag one—and only one—of the other team’s non-captain members. Any players tagged could be sent out, in order, whenever their team’s number of captured participants exceeded their opponent’s. However, at least one pony had to remain in “jail” at all times. This mechanic ensured that the team that was behind could come back more easily. “Wait a minute,” I said, cutting into Annuity’s explanation. “How would the ponies returning to the game know who to chase? I mean, they’d know when they first leave jail, but the target could change and they wouldn’t know.” “Look, Princess, do you want to play or not?” Annuity asked, irritated. “I guess,” I said reluctantly, ignoring the barb. The theoretical problem with in-game intel bothered me, but I couldn’t expect much from a game that was hastily thrown together for a prank. “You can have first choice,” Annuity offered. “Okay, I’ll take River Glade,” Diamond said with glee. Bubble Bauble snickered. I facehooved. “Good choice,” Annuity said ironically. “I’ll take Daybreak,” she added quickly. Okay, this could still work. Pick Granite and we’ll be evenly matched… “I choose you, Bubble Bauble,” Diamond said, pantomiming some weird throwing gesture. The blue filly reluctantly shuffled towards our group. “Your sacrifice won’t be in vain, Bubble,” Annuity promised. “I choose Granite.” With the third pick, Diamond took Zephyr Zap while Annuity took Mortar Strike. Stardust went next and Sunny Style was picked last. We then lined up in the order we would be targeted. I volunteered to be first, so I could help Diamond as soon as possible. Zap suggested herself instead, but the crystal filly was too kind to refuse me. As we climbed on top of the hill, Annuity shot a defiant look at me. She had a competitive verve to her; I liked it. On the count of three, Daybreak and I took off in opposite directions. I would have until the count of five until Annuity was on my tail. I held back from a full gallop, electing to conserve my energy. When the bronze filly came into my field of vision, I met her gaze for a long second before turning around and darting behind the schoolhouse. I was just as fast as Annuity, albeit inferior to her in endurance, so I was able to stay a good distance ahead of her at all times. It also helped that I didn’t want to lose to her, a mindset which seemed to give my hooves an almost weightless quality as I glided across the field. Panting, I would occasionally look back, but the distance between us never seemed to grow. Either I overestimated my competitive drive, or Annuity really did have a fighter’s spirit as well. Just how I like it, I thought, picking up in speed. As we circled the playground, we occasionally had to weave in between Daybreak and Diamond, who were running in a much more erratic pattern. Unsurprisingly, the athletic colt was outpacing the markless filly. After a minute and a half of this, I started to feel a burning in my chest, and I knew I couldn’t keep it up. Cursing my handicap, I racked my brain for ideas. I was trained for this; there had to be something I had that she didn’t. Slowing down, I turned and shot Annuity a smug grin. I didn’t know if my hypothesis was true, but being able to project an aura of confidence at one’s opponent was half of the battle. Confused, she sped up towards me and reached out her hoof. Judging her distance, I timed my side-hop accordingly. The result was her galloping right past me. Clearly she wasn’t the quickest learner as she then proceeded to make a wide turn and charge at me once more. And again, I sidestepped her with ease. She screeched to a halt and flashed me a look of indignation. This had incensed her. This time, she didn’t bother building up a head of steam as she dashed towards me. Ready for this I immediately made a beeline off to the side, quickly converting my sideward momentum into a forward gallop. Annuity quickly adjusted course, but whenever she successfully lined up with me, I shuffled off to the side at an angle. The faster she was going, the wider her turning radius was, giving me time to gain velocity in a new direction. I was able to keep this elaborate dance up for about four minutes. My theory was holding firm. The lateral quickness that had been drilled into me from a young age was far superior to Annuity’s. She tried to circumvent this by running more slowly, counting on the fact that I was as tired as she. However, I countered by sidestepping circles around her as she chased me. “Stop that!” Annuity ordered. I laughed. She looked like a puppy chasing her tail trying to catch me, and she was gradually growing more agitated. Desperate, she tried to mimic my shuffling, but she was just too slow. She even tripped while trying too hard to imitate me. However, all good things must come to an end, and settling into a controlled canter, she was able to finally tag me by virtue of outlasting me. “Got… you…” Annuity panted, exhaustion weighing down her triumph. I turned and walked back to the hill with a forehoof raised. “Good luck catching anyone else like that.” Scowling, Annuity trotted back to the water fountains. As expected, I was the first to arrive at jail. Surprisingly, I didn’t get much time to rest, as Bubble Bauble almost immediately joined me. “Did you even try?” I accused. “It’s not against the rules,” Bubble said defensively. I shook my head derisively. Pestle, there’s another flaw in your game… then again… “You know, you probably should have thought this through a bit more. Annuity gets one step closer to Diamond, but by throwing your leg of the relay, you let me enter the game all the earlier.” Bubble smirked condescendingly. “Who’s been playing the game longer? Yes, you get into play earlier, but don’t expect me to be any help when Annuity catches Zap, Princess.” I shook my head, sour. “You sure put a lot of thought into cheating.” “Nopony said it’s against the rules,” Bubble protested. “It’s inequitable conduct.” “What does that mean?” I shrugged. “I don’t actually know. It’s just a term I heard. Seemed like it would fit?” “So are you going to go after Daybreak, or are you going to stand here lecturing me about fairness?” I opened my mouth to retort, but then I closed it and smiled. “You’re absolutely right,” I said, turning my back on the mole. Another dimension of Annuity’s strategy quickly emerged as I scanned the field for Daybreak. I realized I would be too tired to be of any use for at least a few more minutes. Still, by the mere threat of my presence, I tried to herd Daybreak towards Pink Diamond. At first, I thought I was too slow to be effective, but fortunately, Daybreak’s poor grasp of geometry proved to be his undoing and I was able to cut him off. However, when cornered, he unexpectedly approached me and touched my hoof just before Diamond could get him. “There, I’m out,” he said. “You got me, so you’re done too.” “But youtagged me. Diamond was clearly going to get you, so that just wastes my one tag.” “Call it strategy,” Daybreak said arrogantly. “Is that what the rules say?” Diamond asked innocently. “Well, it’s how we play,” Daybreak explained. “Okay,” Diamond said with a sweet smile. I shrugged. If she wasn’t going to complain, I wasn’t going to fight it. Reluctantly, I followed the yellow and orange earth colt back to jail. How well-developed is the Gauntlet Tag meta-game on this playground? I wondered Watching as Pink Diamond chased the large earth filly in vain, I felt strangely deprived. On the surface, it had been a fun and pure game that rewarded effort. However, Annuity’s tactics had turned it into a one-sided affair. Bubble Bauble barely put forward a token effort in helping Pink Diamond trap Granite Hammer. Though, it took Annuity some time to finally catch Zap, Granite was no closer to being caught by the time the pegasus filly joined us in jail. Seeing me there with Daybreak, she dug into her seemingly endless reserves of energy and dashed right by us to take her turn as Diamond’s helper. “Hi, River! Hi, Daybreak! Bye, River! Bye, Daybreak!” With three ponies after her, Granite quickly succumbed, but not without pulling the same stunt as Daybreak had in order to knock out Zap. At that point, both Annuity and Diamond were tired and it became a race to see who could catch her mark first. Ultimately, Annuity caught up to the purplish-blue unicorn filly, Stardust, first. It was then the game reached its mundane climax. Annuity simply had to walk up to Pink Diamond and tap the exhausted crystal filly. “I guess I lose,” Pink Diamond giggled. “That was fun.” “Too bad,” Annuity said, jeering, “I guess you’re not cut out to be my friend.” “Please,” Pink Diamond begged, with actual tears in her eye, “let me try again.” Daybreak, Bubble and Granite flanked their leader. “Didn’t you get the message?” Bubble questioned disdainfully. “Message? What message?” Diamond asked, oblivious. “Seriously? Obviously, she doesn’t want to be your fr—” Annuity raised a hoof to silence her friend. The four of them then huddled and started whispering. The rich filly then turned to face us again with that familiar predatory smile on her face. “Sure, if you can pass the makeup tests I’ve got coming up, I’d be happy to be your friend.” “Really?” Diamond asked, her eyes sparkling as brightly as her mane. “Uhh, yeah, of course,” Annuity said, caught slightly off-guard. “Cool!” The filly jumped in place. “I’m going to make friends with other ponies in the meantime.” “Yeah, go ahead,” Granite mocked. As the transfer student trotted away I heard Annuity mutter something under her breath: “I can’t wait to see her running home bawling like a certain, other crybaby Diamond.” I suddenly felt strangely protective of Pink Diamond and briefly considered accosting Annuity for stating such a hurtful intent. However, I then remembered that Granite and Daybreak doubled as bodyguards for the uppity filly. Though I could probably take them down similar to how I had bested Bulwark the first time, I was saving that for a rainy day. Instead, I approached Zephyr Zap who was meekly backing away. “Are you okay with this?” I asked her pointedly. “Wh—what do you mean.” I stomped a hoof. “Don’t play dumb! You know very well what Annuity’s doing. She’s stringing Pink Diamond along to humiliate her.” “Well… that’s kind of what Annuity does…” Zap let out a nervous laugh. “And you’re okay with that!?” Her ears drooped. “Well, no, but I don’t want to make my friend angry.” “Is that worth Diamond’s feelings?” Zap looked straight down into the grass. “Well, no, but I just want to preserve the peace and get along with everypony…” “Zap, you can’t get along with everypony, or be friends with everypony at once. You have to choose.” “How would you know!?” Zap shrieked. “Which one of us has more friends, huh?” “What do you know?” I held my ground as she encroached on my personal space, looking her straight in the eye. “What I know is that unless something changes, you won’t be able to be friends with both Pink Diamond and Annuity.” I considered throwing my name into the mix too, but I didn’t want to burn bridges just yet with her. “Watch me,” she said defiantly before flying to catch up with Diamond. I sighed. That certainly could have gone better. No sooner had I registered the sound of hoofsteps before I heard a voice coming from behind me. “We’ll help you, River,” Stardust said serenely. “With what?” I asked, playing dumb. “We know, River,” Style said. “You want to stop Annuity. Well, so do we. We’re tired of her pushing everypony around.” “How did you…” Stardust smiled. “River, it’s obvious to us what’s going on. As Princess Celestia’s friendship student you can’t stand idly by any longer and let Annuity bully the newest addition to our class. Well, we’re fed up too and we want to help. Teach us your ways, Master.” She and Style then proceeded to bow down. Oh, boy, what did I get myself into. Sighing, I reconciled myself with the idea. I supposed I could keep the bogus friendship lessons going in exchange for some allies. Warily, I nodded my assent. “Then it’s settled,” Style said, clapping her hooves together happily. “Henceforth, we shall be known as the Anti-Annuity Alliance.” “Uhh… okay…” Style then zoned in on my mane. “Oh, you grew our your mane and tail!” “Yeah,” I said, readying my excuse. “I thought a longer mane would work well for the part of Celestia.” “That’s a good idea,” Stardust said. “Although, It does kind of make me wish you were an actual filly…” “What!?” I belted out. She took a few steps back and shook her head defensively. “I guess what I mean is that if we’re going to be the Anti-Annuity Alliance, we need a queen bee of our own. Since Zap’s on the other team, it can’t be her, so it’s a shame you can’t take over.” “Aren’t we just supposed to be a tactical alliance?” I asked. “Why would we need a queen bee? Besides, can’t it be—I don’t know—an emperor penguin, instead?” “Well, we can do other stuff than plot against Annuity,” Style offered. “We can have sleepovers!” Stardust high-fived her. “Fillies only, though, so sorry, River.” Why include me, then? “Ooh! Sounds fun!” Pink Diamond said, springing out of nowhere. “Can I join?” Style and Stardust blinked a couple of times. “The point of the alliance is to protect you,” Stardust explained. “It kind of defeats the purpose if you join...” “Alliance?” Diamond asked confused. She then looked like she was going to beg, but the ringing of the bell cut off any pointless debate. I awkwardly broke off from my new allies and made my way to the drinking fountain. In one respect the game was working as intended: I was very thirsty after all that running. When everyone had gathered back inside Fizzle announced that we would continue our readthrough of the play. “Anypony have any questions before we start?” Predictably the crystal filly raised her hoof. “Yes, Diamond?” “Since we’re doing a play, does that mean I’m going to inherit Cotton Candy’s part?” “Yes, let’s see here,” Fizzle said, flipping through her notes. “Cotton Candy was going to play… a tree....” The class laughed. “That’s so cool!” Diamond squeed. “You mean I’m playing Ageon the Arborable? The pithy treant sage?” “Actually, that’s my part,” Skywatcher corrected. “You’re just an ordinary tree.” “Oh…” for once, the filly actually looked deflated, and Mrs. Fizzle picked up on this. “It’s actually a very important part,” Mrs. Fizzle insisted. “When Quarrel uses his chaos magic on you, you get to tickle the princesses.” “Neato!” Diamond’s smile returned. “And let’s not forget Celestia’s epiphany when an apple falls on her head. That’s arguably the turning point of the entire play,” Fizzle explained. Diamond gasped. “Are you sure you can trust me with such an important part?” “Don’t worry,” Annuity said. “I’m sure you’ll be perfect for the part. You obviously have the same infectious charisma that Cotton Candy had. Try not to upstage Princess River,” The filly looked at me with wide eyes. “You’re a Princess, River? I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? Forgive this peasant girl’s unrefined ways, Your Majesty.” I briefly went red, but the laughter of my classmates diffused the momentary tension of her brushing up dangerously closely to my secret. “The play,” I said a bit too quickly. “I’m playing Princess Celestia in the play.” For some reason, she looked me over and nodded her approval. “My classmates voted for me. It’s a strange decision, but I had no choice,” I tacked on. “What are you talking about? You’ll make a great princess!” Diamond said with her usual enthusiasm. Annuity snickered at this and raised her foreleg for a hoofbump. Confused, but happy to participate, Diamond bumped hooves with her. “Yeah, River, you’re the prettiest colt I know,” Annuity added. Diamond forced a laugh to fit in with Annuity’s posse. I briefly found myself regretting my promise to Star. I had no desire to protect this filly if she was going to turn into one of Annuity’s sycophants. A little late as usual, Fizzle then cut off the discussion and redirected the class. “Let’s pick up with the scene where the princesses present their grand proposal. Unbeknownst to them, Quarrel has been responsible for the seemingly clerical mistakes that have undermined the negotiations thus far, leading up to this bold switcharoo. This scene is probably the greatest example of dramatic irony in the play. Nopony but the audience knows that the other races received a drastically different proposal. And... begin.” “Thank you for agreeing to discuss this with us on such short notice, Gentlemen,” Zap said. “After reading what you really think, princesses, we could hardly stand idly by,” Daybreak read flatly. Fizzle shook her head. “No, Daybreak, you are irate. Say every word like you are personally offended." “Do you believe this is even possible, Princess?” Granite Hammer asked me. “While it may be beyond our current capabilities, if we harness the magic of friendship, I am certain that the dream will one day be within reach.” “So, Gentlemen, pray tell us, what do you truly think? A modest proposal is it not?” “No, Zap, Princess Luna is being ironic with that line. It’s far from a modest proposal.” Mortar Strike pounded his desk. “Quite frankly, this document speaks for itself.” “We had hoped as much,” I said. Ouch. I can’t imagine that going over well with the other delegates. Jill cleared her throat. “Princess Celestia, Gildeus finds this proposal hard to believe. Do you truly intend for this to apply to all other races, minotaurs included?” “Of course it will apply to you as well. We can’t imagine it working any other way,” Zap explained. For the first time, I started to appreciate this play. The scene built spectacularly. With every single line, the misunderstanding compounded. And each side being blind to the subtle hints that not everything was right was something I could easily see happening in Equestria. The only problem was as the scene built, something was building within me as well. It was a feeling well-known to me, yet at the same time very different. Anxious, I started kicking my dangling hindlegs in my desk. I probably shouldn’t have drank so much water… “You truly stand by this policy, Princess?” Thaumaturgical asked, deepening his dorky voice to play Dragon Lord Torch. “Yes, we believe Equus will be a better place if all races voluntarily submit to this policy,” I said, rushing through the line. “Think about how much safer travel will be and how much happier everypony will be as a result.” “Everypony?” Iron Jill asked. “No, Jill, don’t read it so quickly. Sound like you abhor the idea. Say it with disgust.” I crossed my hindlegs to offset some of the pressure on my bladder. I think I can hold it, but then again, I don’t know how long I can last as a filly... I tried to distract myself by focusing on the play, but that just made every line seem all the longer. I don’t know how I did it, but eventually we made it to the big reveal. “So, Gentlemen, clearly the decision here is obvious. Do we have an agreement?” Zap asked. “Indeed,” Daybreak said. “We accept this as a declaration of war.” “War!? Surely this is a call for peace,” I read. “You insult us, Princess,” said Granite. “Do you not see the benefit?” Zap asked forcefully. “Treating everypony equally is a goal worth short-term sacrifice. You’re threatening war over a fundamental good!?” “Short-term!?” Mortar asked, aghast. Iron Jill pounded her desk. “Indeed. Gildeus doesn’t want to be turned into a wimpy pony.” “What dost thou meanst? Did you not read what’s in front of you?” Zap asked archaically. “We can read, Princess,” Skywatcher read. “Your xenophobic policy of forced ponification is perfectly clear to see.” At this point, the stage directions indicated for Luna to swipe a copy of the proposal from another delegate. “What is the meaning of this!?” Zap bellowed, wings jutting outward. “Yes, what do you think we’ve been getting at this time?” said Style. “Just because we deer have long enjoyed cordial relations with the ponies doesn’t mean we’re willing to submit to pony hegemony. “We can explain!” Zap proclaimed forcefully. “Our proposals they’ve been tampered with!” “Still with the same excuse, Princess? A typo is understandable. A manifesto for a one-world government is no mistake," Daybreak read. “Please, Gentlemen!” I pleaded through clenched teeth, kicking my hindlegs again. “Save it!” Mortar Strike shouted. “We’ll let our citizens judge for themselves the true colors of Equestria’s benevolent monarchs.” “I don’t see why we need to waste our time,” Spectacle said. “We have an anti-pony coalition assembled here and now. I call for a group declaration of war against Equestria. “Seconded,” Granite said. “Gentlemen!” Zap pleaded. “Please see reason,” I begged. Nopony would ever believe something so extreme. This is a setup!” “War!” “War!” “War!” “War!” the other delegates chanted. The stage directions indicated for me and Luna to look devastated, but I was preoccupied. Annuity, Bubble and Pestle laughed out-of-sync. The awkward, forced nature of it brought a fitting silence to the room. “Quarrel!” I shouted. More laughter. “Umm how do you want us to do this?” Pestle asked. “Count down from three,” Fizzle offered. “Quarrel is an entity of chaos so it would create a dissonant effect if all three of you read the line at the same time. Let’s try. Three… two… one.” “Oh you should have seen the look on your faces,” the three fillies said. “My you all really take yourselves so seriously. You need to loosen up, like my adorable little pony friends here.” The stage directions instructed Quarrel to hug Celestia and Luna. “Chimeric abomination! Proposing this atrocity was your idea of a joke?” Mortar Strike read hammily. “Guilty,” the trio said. “Seriously, though you all need to lighten up. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about harmony…” “We have our pride,” Mortar Strike projected. “Really now. Don’t knock it until you try it…” I gasped. Quarrel actually turns the griffon delegation into ponies. The “griffins” did a good job at freaking out about this. “Gentlemen, calm down,” Zap urged. “Not even Quarrel’s magic can change what you are at a fundamental level. You’ll change back.” “Change us back now!” “What fun would that be?” the three fillies asked. “Quarrel!” I grunted. “Oh, all right. No need to be such a buzzkill, Princess.” Quarrel turned them back. I had to wonder how we would represent this in the production. “You know you squandered an opportunity many would envy— a chance to see life from another perspective.” The next couple of lines were the griffin delegation calling Quarrel various permutations of the word fiend. Quarrel blew a raspberry and disappeared, electing to “share his brand of whimsy with someone who would appreciate it.” “Very good, everypony. Since we have some time left, let’s loop back around to the beginning of the play—to the very first scene.” “Mrs. Fizzle!” I called out. I wasn’t normally one to interrupt, but at this point I felt a sudden pain just below my stomach. “Yes, River?” “May I use the bathroom?” “Of course, Princess.” The class laughed. Not her too! Trotting to the front of the room, I took the pink hall-pass in my mouth. Truthfully, I didn’t understand the point of this exercise as there was no hall to speak of, but I wasn’t one to question protocol. Pressure mounting, I galloped out of the classroom and towards the small side-building housing the restrooms. I approached the colts’ room and jerked at the handle. Locked. This was strange; they were never locked during recess. Confused, I inspected the lock and saw a shining symbol inscribed above it. The hall pass was shimmering as well, and I turned it over to see a matching symbol. Great. A magical lock. Did Mrs. Fizzle give me the wrong key? Sure enough, I held the pink slip up to the door to the fillies’ room and I heard a click as that door’s rune glowed green. Sighing, I turned back towards the school building. Despite my bladder’s protests, I wasn’t about to use the fillies’ room. A fragment of intuition flashed through my mind, and I froze outside the classroom door. Frantically, I ran back to the bathroom doors and inspected the symbols. My hall pass, the fillies’ room and the colts’ room all had the same pentagon symbol. What am I worried about anyway? I wondered. Then I suddenly remembered seeing a similar rune the day Trusty had taken me to Happy Hayburger. Didn’t one of the workers bring a highchair to our table by mistake? I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but in hindsight, she had said something about a sensor malfunctioning. It hit me: my magical signature—they had known! Hesitantly, I hovered my hoof over the handle of the fillies’ room. No, this is ridiculous, I thought, turning away. The slip is pink; it has to be the key to the fillies’ room. Besides, there’d be no reason to go to such lengths to keep fillies out of the colts’ room. Hopping in place, I made my way back towards the classroom building—and once more I came to a halt at the handle. It was clear to me: on the off chance that I was wrong about this, everypony would know my gender. But what if it’s pink for the reason? I thought. Won’t everypony know I used the fillies’ room? However, I once more felt a sharp pain. Like it or not the decision had been made for me. As quickly and discreetly as possible, I dashed into one of the stalls. After a tense minute of praying nopony else would need to go, I flung the stall door open and hastily washed my hooves. Sanctuary in sight, I galloped out of the fillies room, relieved—only to trip over Pink Diamond in the doorway.