//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Counter Intelligence // Story: Life Support // by Starscribe //------------------------------// “I don’t like it,” Gina said, for the tenth time now. She whispered quietly enough that she would not be easily overheard, yet still it seemed like dozens of eyes looked their way whenever she spoke. Either that, or it was the sight of something so strange as a griffon with such a troubled past in a part of the world where there was only sunshine and rainbows. “I don’t either,” Flynn said, and found he barely had to mouth the words for his character to speak them, just as quietly. The Ponypad had a camera on his face, that was enough. Enough that his friends wouldn’t overhear, even though they were beside him. “But it might be helpful. The more we know about their world, the more we can fight it.” It was a shallow reason, and Gina seemed to know that from her expression. Her eyebrows went up and she looked sidelong at Flynn, as though asking, “Really?” But she didn’t, only walked along beside him with her strange too-long delay between the sound of each step. Celestia had brought them into Equestria, just as Caroline said she would. Now they were here, surrounded by danger and strangers and difficulty. Well, at least they would’ve been, if this had been their shard. Fillydelphia didn’t look like the parts of Equestria Flynn had seen during their visits to the borders to help refugees escape. It wasn’t thatched-roofs, and empty lanes with only enough space for pedestrians. It was, rather, a dense city that shared more in common with Tokyo than a rural countryside village. It even managed to look like an Earth city, though wherever there was the need for technology magic was used instead. “This doesn’t look like Equestria,” he said, speaking normally now. It was strange—the speakers in Jose and Caroline’s Ponypads didn’t repeat his voice, since they were so close together. And when characters spoke, it didn’t sound like the same voice coming slightly out-of-sync from all three devices. It was advanced tech, sounding more advanced all the time. “That’s because humans made it,” Caroline said. “Humans designed it, and they still run it today. It’s one of the biggest English Language megashards.” “I have no idea what that is,” Flynn said flatly, though he couldn’t repress a smile at way Gina acted. She didn’t feel comfortable without her weapons, though of course they couldn’t walk around openly with weapons in the middle of a city, or else people would react accordingly. It was kind of adorable—like watching a kitten protect its owner’s feet from a mouse. “You spend all your time down past nowhere,” Jose said, annoyed. “Course you don’t. Some of us like being with our friends, though. That’s what a shard like this is—where most people living here are emigrated, or human players.” “But not all of them,” Caroline continued. “It’s really cool—you never know if you’re talking to a real person or not, but the odds are pretty good in Fillydelphia.” “So, what, it’s another one of those play-pretend shards where you can just copy anything as much as you want and nothing ever goes wrong? You know people still have to work to make that stuff, right?” “No, and no,” Caroline said, annoyance coming through again. “Flynn, the real world and Equestria don’t have to use the same rules… but you’re wrong anyway, cuz’ in Fillydelphia you can’t do things like that. Like some of these buildings? Farms, factories, whatever.” She shrugged one wing. In game, Caroline was a pegasus, very much like Flynn, though her colors were much brighter and she always dyed her mane some different way. Today it was such a reflective blue it almost looked like plastic. “Yeah, whatever.” He folded his arms. His character kept walking with the others, looking glum. Whenever the Ponypad made a guess at what he wanted, it never seemed to guess wrong. The longer he kept playing, the less he even needed to use the controller. That explained how Jose’s character could keep acting like him, even though he had only one shaking hand on the controls, and didn’t even seem to be doing much with it. “You said lots of people here are emigrated? Can we find one? I’d like to…” He trailed off, looking away. “I’d like to ask them some questions.” “Sure, sure.” Jose turned abruptly down a side-street, gesturing for them to follow. “I know just the place.” Less than a dozen steps later, and the transformation from safe main thoroughfare to shady-looking back alley was uncanny. Equestria was cleaner than Earth—there were no needles, or piles of trash in the corners. But everything still looked darker, wetter, the shadows somehow more ominous. Steam rose from an open sewer vent they all walked around, where a “YOUR CITY AT WORK” sign was the only warning of danger. “You guys wouldn’t be allowed,” Jose said. “Only me. So don’t come back without me. They like their privacy.” “Are you sure that’s all they like?” Caroline asked, looking sidelong at Jose with a knowing grin. He only swore under his breath at her in Spanish, not answering as his earth pony character stopped in front of a rusting metal door. These were the back of the shops they had been walking past before, with faded letters explaining what they were. Jose knocked three times with one hoof, then once with the other. There was a brief delay, before the door swung suddenly open. There was nobody inside, nothing but a set of stairs leading down into the dark. Flynn gulped. If this had been real life, he never would’ve gone with anyone into a place like this, even a good friend. But this was just Equestria, where nothing permanent could happen. Flynn had gotten into gunfights, and his character had been badly hurt before. Besides, he had Gina. One glance at her was all he needed to reassure him. “Lots of humans come here right before and right after they emigrate,” he explained, as they made their way down the stairs. “It’s… a support group. They deal with lots of Earthside problems, get advice and help, that kind of thing. And if you have questions about anything, they’re the ones to ask.” Now Flynn could hear music—the thumping base of modern pop, though not as loud as a club or even one of the pirate bars the Broken Chain sometimes stopped at for rest and refreshment. It sounded like Earth music, but he couldn’t identify the specific song, or even the artist. They emerged through a doorway, into… not what he expected. Somehow, he’d imagined there would be a bar down here, where despondent emigrants regretting their decisions would while away their hours wishing they hadn’t killed themselves. Instead, it looked like somebody’s house, attractively furnished, but also more subdued and casual than a bar would’ve been. There was an open kitchen with tons of refreshments, though a good half the room didn’t seem interested in them. Flynn was one of those. “Over there.” Jose pointed to one corner of the room, where a small group of ponies was resting on comfortable-looking sofas in front of the fire. One bat, three unicorns, and one earth pony. “The younger unicorn? Her name is Aurora, and she emigrated like a few weeks ago. If you want to ask about it, ask her. But don’t be a dick.” Jose’s virtual character couldn’t say that last word, but it didn’t matter. Flynn had heard him anyway. “I’ll be right back,” he told Gina, who was eyeing the refreshments with ravenous intensity. “Good. I’m going to, uh… make sure nothing’s poisoned. In case they know who we are.” “That sounds like a good idea.” Flynn agreed, though he had no illusions about what her real intentions were. “I’ll catch up with you.” She hurried over to the refreshment table. To his surprise, Jose joined her. He resisted the urge to point out how pointless that would be—why bother eating when you couldn’t taste what your character could? Even the Equestrian Experience Centers couldn’t convey that sense, for all the other incredible things they could do. Flynn crossed the room, dimly aware that Caroline was following him. “You don’t have to come,” he muttered, quietly enough that he hoped no one else would hear over the music. “I’ll behave.” “You say that,” she said. “But you came to civilization dressed like you just visited a pirate convention. Let’s just say I’m here to make sure you’re on your best behavior, alright?” Flynn groaned, but didn’t argue. He hadn’t bothered to change, she was right. He had several empty scabbards on his back, empty holsters for his flintlock pistol, and a beaded jacket that would’ve fit right in as a prop from Pirates of the Caribbean. But he hadn’t been trying to spy, not from the beginning. Flynn already knew how loyalists acted around each other. But how would they act if they suspected Flynn was an outsider, or worse, a criminal? So far, not at all. Except for the very pony Jose had suggested he talk to. As he got closer, edging around the ring of comfortable sofas, she got up from where she was sitting, stomping two of her hooves on the floor with glee. “Nobody told me Jack Sparrow emigrated!” The slightly younger one pulled her back gently, like a protective sister. “I don’t think movie characters can emigrate, Aurora.” “So, are you two just in, or just thinking about it?” asked the batpony, also not rising. He kept one wing resting on the younger unicorn’s back, and there was just a hint of possessiveness about him as he watched Flynn. Don’t worry, stupid. I don’t want to steal your virtual girlfriend. They were all about the same age as his character, as far as Equestrian age mattered at all. Which was very little. If these were former humans, they could just as easily be sixty as six, and he’d never have known. “Thinking about it,” Caroline said, plopping down on the empty love-seat and practically dragging Flynn’s character up beside her. “Waiting for approval. I have everything figured out, but my friend Entry Vector here isn’t sure. He has some questions.” “Oh,” the younger unicorn said. “Well you came to the right place. There aren’t many ponies who know as much about emigration as we do.” “Except for the ones who helped come up with it,” the earth pony muttered. “Well, yeah.” The unicorn wrinkled her nose. “Introductions then. I’m Recursion. This is my sister Aurora, my friends Slide Rule and Significant Figure and my boyfriend Cadmean.” “And how many of you are humans?” Flynn asked, without thinking. For once, the question came out unimpeded, without the game trying to censor him. Several of the listeners winced. “What my friend meant to say was that his name is Entry Vector and mine is Fairy Ring. We’re so happy you’ll give us some of your time and answer our questions.” Flynn grunted acknowledgement, but didn’t apologize. He couldn’t help but look at this little group of ponies and see his own family, somewhere far away. Probably still waiting for him, even now. Unless Celestia decided they’d be happier thinking I came with them, and she just made a copy of me so they could pretend. “None,” the bat pony named Cadmean said, annoyed. “Obviously. That’s the rules.” “He means…” Recursion sighed. “Three of us. Cadmean’s been here the longest. I’ve been in Equestria for three years. My sister, about a month. From an external reference frame.” The other two, the last unicorn and the earth pony, remained silent. They must be natives, then. “How can you tell you’re still you?” Flynn asked, without preamble. “I almost emigrated once. But when I got into the chair, I realized that if I closed my eyes I’d never wake up. I’d die in that chair, and somebody else who thought they were me would be the one to wake up. The unicorn named Aurora looked troubled, shifting uncomfortably on her seat. Her sister, though, continued without hesitation. “You can’t be certain. Just like you can’t be certain you’re going to still be you when you wake up from sleep each night. It’s kinda the same thing. You go to bed, close your eyes… then you wake up. How do you know you’re really you each day, and not a copy who inherited your same memories and personality?” He sat back, thinking. “Is it really the same? Your brain doesn’t shut off completely. Even big surgeries don’t shut it all off, when they put you under. Just mostly.” Recursion shrugged. “Same thing with emigration. Your brain doesn’t shut down for that either, just the part that makes new memories. It’s a lot like one of those surgeries. You’re not gone, but the parts that make you are all separate, not working together like they normally would. Maybe that’s death, maybe you never wake up. But I don’t think so.” She sat back, leaning to the side. “Do you still feel like yourself, Aurora?” “Y-yeah,” the older unicorn squeaked, apparently without thinking about it. “I always thought it would be like… like you said. But it wasn’t. I woke up in bed here, and I don’t feel like a pony with strange memories I don’t understand. I feel like a person who happens to be a pony now. And I’m… still kinda figuring that part out.” And so they went on. Flynn asked just about anything he could think of, and each time one of the ponies answered as though they’d thought about that specific question a great deal. The longer the conversation went, the less afraid he became.