I was still shivering as Tash and I walked. It had been several hours, and she'd taken it upon herself to turn off the flashlight to save power. "I know these parts of the tunnels like the bottom of my hoof," she assured me. "That hub where we stopped off is where I was born." I didn't protest; she was right. The flashlight did have limited battery behind it, and underground, there wasn't any way to hook it to a solar recharger. I might've been able to recharge form some of the mana that was burning off back in Tash's hub, but at that point, I was actively avoiding being shot, so the battery of my flashlight—which was pretty much full at that point, anyway—wasn't high on my list of priorities.
So far, we hadn't come across any more ponies, nor active linelights. Not for the first time, I wished I had my helmet back. If not for Computer, then just so I could see again. The emptiness was getting to me, and I couldn't help but try to make conversation. Clearly, the same wasn't true for Tash; she seemed totally at ease. Made sense; this had been her life, and she'd spent all her waking moments in this darkness.
"So, Tash," I began, my chattering teeth fumbling a little over my words, "you said you were born down here. Are there any ponies that still live on the surface, or is everypony underground now? And for that matter, how many ponies still live down here? How many have you met?"
She grunted. "I've met somewhere between ten and twelve, pretty sure there are about a hundred total. Maybe more, but how should I know? Couple crazy old ponies still try to live up there, old cities on the surface and stuff. A few of them are still pretty intact, but there aren't really any good sources of water or anything." A few hours back, we'd found what looked like a water feed; a little trickle of water poured out of the wall, coming from some unseen underground source, and pooled at our hooves. It had been a welcome supplement, and the fact that we didn't need to use any of the hydrocaps was quite the morale booster. There was a very limited supply of those, especially for two ponies instead of one. "I think the only reason those ponies don't come down here is because they can't stand leaving the light." Her tone made it pretty clear what she thought of them, and I winced.
"Speaking of light," I said, abruptly changing the subject, "where do you think we would have the greatest luck finding some sort of warplight drive around here?"
"By not looking around here. If we're gonna get you any sort of ship, you're gonna need to get up to the surface again. That's where we're headed. There's an old access—" she paused suddenly. I wasn't sure, being unable to see and all, but it seemed like an appropriate time to cock your head. Her hoofsteps stopped, and I followed suit, squinting ahead. In the darkness of the tunnel, there were a few lines of blue light far in front of us, and a single bright blue dot that shined out of the shadow.
I frowned. In the distance, rapidly approaching, I could hear something walking. It wasn't a pony, though; I'd never heard that kind of gait. I didn't know what it was—probably related to the blue lights—but I was immediately tackled to the side by Tash and rammed into an adjacent tunnel. "Don't move," she hissed. "Do you best to not breathe, and hope to Celestia it didn't see us. Damn it all, I was hoping we wouldn't run into a walker." The world lit up briefly as she levitated her gun off of her back, then it went dark again.
Cl-cl-cl-cl-click
Cl-cl-cl-cl-click
Cl-cl-cl-cl-click
My jaw clenched. Whatever that thing was, it was getting closer. I could see a watery, faint blue light in the other tunnel, growing brighter with each cl-cl-cl-cl-click. In the faint glow, I could see Tash. Her jaw was just as tight as mine, and her eyes were narrowed. Her entire body was a spring ready to snap. Whatever was making the sound was getting closer. I didn't know what a walker was, but it sounded highly unpleasant. I braced as the cl-cl-cl-cl-click passed the corner.
Whatever I expected, that wasn't it. What it was was enough to give me nightmares for days afterwards.
It was a small sphere, maybe a bit larger than my head, the same gray as the tunnel around us. Little glassy eyes covered it from every angle, slowly swiveling as they absorbed the confined world around it. It was maybe five meters above us, contained in a frame that allowed free rotation. The frame was suspended there from five long, spindly stilts that looked like they were made of something similar to the tunnel. The outer surfaces of these 'legs' were covered in linelight, the source of that pallid glow being cast down the tunnel. Other than the clicking it made as it walked across the hard floor, it was perfectly silent.
Suddenly, the clicking stopped. The walker stopped its motion, standing dead still.
I heard a muffled "buck" from Tash, and then the spherical head rotated towards us, revealing a single eye larger than the others, glowing bright blue from condensed manaflow. I sat there, almost mesmerized. A muted vreeeem sound began to build, slowly escalating in pitch to the point where it hurt my ears.
"Buck it, Quick, move! Don't just sit there!"
Tash's shout knocked me out of my stupor and I bolted to the side. Immediately after—less than a second—a pulse of blue energy came from the eye, scorching its way into the floor where I'd been sitting. The air filled with the burnt-bread smell of raw mana, and the area fizzed with blue lightning for a moment before going dark again.
"What in Tartarus is that thing?" I gasped out.
"Walker," Tash replied tersely. Helpful. "It's a sentry, we think. They've been down in these tunnels as long as I can remember. Damn hard to kill, and no matter how many you kill there are always more." Another sizzling bolt of frothing mana burned its way toward me, and I barely managed to dodge it. Taking the opportunity, Tash rolled under another bolt, then armed her rifle, pointing it at the...thing...and squeezing off a few shots. The arcing blue energy skated off of the walker, harmlessly dissipating against the cold gray shell. Swearing, she kept firing at it to little effect.
All I could do was keep dodging. Anything useful I had would be in Tash's saddlebags and she was too busy to be bothered to open them.
Wait. Never mind. She was a unicorn.
"Tash!" I called. "In my suit pocket there's a plasma cutter! Can you toss that to me!"
"In case you didn't notice," she ground out in between shots, blowing out one of the walker's glassy eyes, "I'm a bit busy!" Still, she complied, pulling an object out and tossing it over to me with her telekinetic glow. I gripped the familiar handle of...my flashlight.
"Damnit, Tash! I asked for a plasma, not a flashlight!"
Somehow, among all of this, I managed to see her rolling her eyes. "I've lived my entire life underground! I have no idea what this 'plasma cutter' thing is, and I'm currently fighting a giant bucking robot!"
Hmm. Well, she had a point there.
I ran over to her and yanked the suit bodily out of her saddlebags, depositing it haphazardly on the ground as I yanked the cutter out and pulled the trigger experimentally. It sparked to life, a stream of white-hot plasma spilling out of the nozzle right on cue. I nodded to myself, steeled myself, and took to the still tunnel air, diving straight towards the thing.
"Quick!" I heard Tash yell, "what in Celestia's name are you doing?"
I gritted my teeth as the plasma cutter came into contact with one of the stilted legs. "I'm making some repairs!" The torch skated harmlessly off the mysterious substance, and I grimaced before trying for another, slower pass.
A scalpel-precise blade, razor-keen and needle-sharp, darted at me, forcing me back and sending me tumbling to the ground. Turns out those luminous legs weren't just for walking and light. Whatever this thing was made of—the same stuff as the tunnel, I thought—I wouldn't be able to get through it with a plasma cutter without at least a few minutes of constant contact. I rolled out of the way of the questing leg, bobbing and weaving and desperately trying to avoid being impaled on the leg. I slipped, and it crashed down a few centimeters from my face, my eyes widening in panic. It snapped into precise focus; I could see how the linelight was integrated into the leg in such a way that it wouldn't interfere with any of the blades, how the inside edge of the slightly-curved stabbing point was covered in hair-thin serrations. It raised the leg again, and I scrabbled for some traction, yet found none. The lethal tip gleamed dully in the blue light, and I realized that I was about to die.
Suddenly, the giant construct let out a sound I would call a digital scream as a bolt of blue energy from Tash's gun blasted into its main eye. It staggered back, legs flailing and clicking against the floor as arcs of blue light crackled across the lens. As it recovered, another blast of light striking it just a few centimeters from the eye, it turned back to her and the vreeeem sound started again before being interrupted by a blast of feedback from the still-crackling lens. It abandoned the idea of shooting her, and instead, recovering from its momentary distraction, bore down on her, skittering on three legs with two raised in front of it like crab claws.
Tash stood perfectly still, the sweat on her brow visible from where I was rapidly hauling myself to my hooves. She sighted down her rifle's barrel as the walker approached her. Then, with an exhalation so loud I could hear it above the clicking of metal claws, she pulled the trigger as a leg descended towards her at flickering speed.
There was the muted thump of a mana pulse coming into contact with an object, and the walker seized up, then crumpled to the ground, eyes going dark. The linelights began dimming, and I could hardly catch Tash wiping her face off, stowing the gun on her back. "Finally got it," she groused. I noticed in almost-shock that the main eye, the one it used to fire its energy blasts that I was pretty sure had left scorch marks on the tunnel walls, was cracked in two, leaking some kind of milky fluid. "Hurry up and start running. I only stunned it; takes a lot more than that to kill it. We've got five minutes tops before it gets up, and we want to be a long way away." She dashed off, galloping deeper into the tunnels.
Well, hard to argue with that. I scooped up the suit from the tunnel floor and ran after her echoes, deeper into the darkness that now seemed ever more oppressive. "How could it chase us?" I panted. "You broke its eye!"
She replied from the darkness ahead of me. "If only. That stuff coming out of its eye? Cocktail of nanomachines or something. That eye was well on its way to up-and-running by the time we booked it out of there. Those damn things are built to last."
I took to wing, following her hoofsteps in the darkness and hoping desperately that by the time the walker got up, we would be long, long gone.
---
At this point, I was jumping at everything. Every strange sound seemed to me like the dreaded cl-cl-cl-cl-click of another walker, and I was generating enough clicks on my own with my chattering teeth. I'd tried to put the SCL suit on again, but Tash had caught on pretty quick and yanked it out of my comparatively-clumsy hooves with a quick burst of magic. The fact that it was going to waste was really beginning to frustrate me, especially since there was no communications equipment in the suit itself, just the helmet. She stubbornly refused to believe me, deciding instead on keeping it uselessly in her saddlebags.
And that's when another sound announced itself. This time, it was a low hum, constant in pitch and constant in volume, only growing louder as we drew closer to the source. I tensed up, and my hoofsteps grew tighter, faster. Tash turned to me (I think) and tried to assuage my fears. "No worries. This isn't a walker or anything, it's always been here. This is the main computer bank of the tunnels. We've never been able to get it working, so it's mostly just for sightseeing."
I didn't really believe her; everything in these tunnels so far seemed pretty hostile. I didn't respond, other than with a noncommittal grunt, and she sighed, turning with a shuffle of hooves. "Fine, suit yourself. Get all riled up over nothing."
I did just that. Turns out she was right: as we approached the source of the humming, the linelights in the walls began to flicker with life as they entered a magically-powered area. I squeezed my eyes shut; after the nothingness of darkness for hours, it was legitimately painful to even look at the dim light of the barely-functional linelights. As we continued on, they grew brighter and more stable, until we reached the source: true to Tash's word, a large bank of huge computer systems. I didn't recognize the make. Tash had mentioned that they'd never been able to get them to work; I could only assume that they were developed by the original creators of the tunnels.
As we passed a small terminal embedded in the wall—at least I assumed it was a terminal, though it was also largely unfamiliar to me—
Beep
The humming suddenly increased in volume, sounding like a hive of bees that had just been angered.
Tash and I both froze, looked at each other, and then looked at the terminal. The sheet of black metal had revealed itself as a screen, upon which only one thing was written, in the same monotonous mana-cyan that had, at one point, lit the entire tunnel system:
"Please activate genetic scanner for access."
Tash had paled noticeably. "This has never happened," she muttered faintly. "What's happening?"
With a shunk sound, a small panel opened underneath the monitor, and a surface with a tiny needle upon it extended outwards toward us. Tash walked hesitantly forward, pricking her hoof on the needle. With the same sound, the platform returned to the computer. After a moment, more words scrolled across the screen:
"Genetic material incompatible. Access denied."
She sighed, deflating. "What a bust. I've never seen this thing turn on."
After a brief time, the screen cleared back to the initial message and the platform extended again. I didn't really think it would result in anything, but on a lark, I pricked my hoof. The pain faded almost instantly, and the platform shot back into the computer. I stared at it with some form of detached interest. I'd never seen anything quite like this. Sure, there'd been some interest in genetics back on Hooftauri D, but never any kind of identification or security, at least not that I'd seen.
"Genetic material within permissible range. Welcome, Architect."
As one, our eyes shot wide and our mouths dropped open. A strangled "what?" came out of Tash, and the screen lit up, phantom images of incomprehensible systems fanning out for meters in every direction. They were all different; holographic computer images, displayed in concert with each other. Maps, they looked like; maps of the tunnels, at least for a little ways. A tiny blip in the corner pulsed for a moment, and I frowned; wasn't that familiar?
Hello? Anyone out there?
My mouth dropped open again. I knew that digitized voice. "Computer?" I asked, barely able to believe it.
Quick Fix? Is that you? What happened? Where are you? For that matter, where am I? Its voice was a mixture of concern and fright. I wasn't particularly surprised; since the helmet wasn't active, it was unable to do much of anything, really.
"We're still in the tunnels. You're in...well, an ancient computer bank," I finished awkwardly.
"Alright, hang on." Tash cut in, voice rough. "What on Equus is going on?"
I sighed. Might as well spill it now. It wasn't as though Tash could destroy Computer now. "Tash, meet the Starjumper's onboard computer, mutated into a fully sentient AI program. It lives—or, well, lived—in the helmet of my suit. Somehow, I guess it jumped out into the other terminal." I gestured, not that it added anything. "It's the reason I wanted to keep my suit on."
Her eyes had steadily widened throughout the exchange, and now they were threatening to pop right out of their sockets. "You mean this thing," she pulled the helmet out of a saddlebag, her eyes flickering between it and the holographs that now adorned the entire wall in front of us, "has a...pony in it?"
"In so many words, yeah," I replied lamely.
Huh. Never considered myself a pony before, but I can see it. So wait, you said I jumped to some ancient computer or something?
I nodded. "Apparently these tunnels have been here for as long as anypony can remember, way under the surface. Nopony knows exactly who or what made them, but I'm pretty sure they've been here a while." Something suddenly struck me. "Hey, Tash?" I asked. "Are there other computers like this anywhere in the tunnels?"
"Yeah, but none of them have turned on," she responded.
"Then I guess Computer jumping through turned it on." I turned back to the wallscreen, which, to my surprise, had reconfigured part of itself into a life-sized image of a mare. I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Computer! Warn me before you're going to do that!"
She grimaced. Computer isn't really a name, is it? I'm sentient; I think. I'm basically a pony in that sense, so shouldn't I have a name?
That took me off-guard. "I, um, yeah?"
Hmm. Her digital countenance suddenly grinned. Tera Byte! You can call me Tera Byte.
Suppressing the pun-fueled groan that was itching to burst from me, I shrugged and turned to Tash. She did the same. "Tera Byte it is. Oh, and by the way, this is Tunnel Dasher. Just call her Tash. She's the pony that whacked me when I first got down here."
Yeah, I figured. Not that it would be very hard to. Her image squinted as I frowned crossly. Wait...is that a unicorn horn? Like, a real one? The ones from history, not those stubby little things they have in Hooftauri?
Tash nodded, grinning despite herself. "I'm not one of those unicorns you see in the other systems. I'm a real Equus-born unicorn!"
Huh. Interesting! I like it! Her forehead shimmered, and a horn appeared on it. She admired herself for a moment. It isn't functional, but it looks nice!
I was surprised; I'd assumed that Tash would've immediately disliked Com—Tera, simply by virtue of her being made by VISTCo. When I asked her about it, she responded with, "yeah, she might've started as a VISTCo pet. She's as much a pony as you or me now, though. Not my place to take that away from her."
Anyway, now that the pleasantries were over, it was time to get down to brass tacks. "So, Tera," I began, "can you find any files in there on what these tunnels are? Who made them?"
Her image shrugged. I can't even understand most of this. It's written in a language that I've never seen before. I think I translated the stuff you read before into Equus so you could actually read it, but the further I go into the files the more confused I get. All I can really find is the word Architect. She frowned. No files on the language, either, or I could just learn it real quick." The holographic images circled around her. That terminal was clearly more advanced than just a regular monitor, with some sort of interface that let ponies use it directly without the need for clumsy tools like keyboards. "Looks like there might be some more details further down in the tunnels, but I can't get there from here. You'll need to bring me there directly. There's a bunch of sealed doors in the way, though.
That reminded me of something. "The computer said that my genetic code was...oh, what was it...within permissible error or something? And that Tash's wasn't. You know what's up with that?"
She shook her head. Nothing doing. I know that's what got you into the system, but I have no idea what makes your genetics any different from hers. As far as I know you're both Equus equus, and I don't have the means to look at any real variances in your genes. The way this mainframe does it is in a way different form to anything I've ever seen before.
"Well, it's been interesting, Tera," said Tash, "but we were about to head up to an access hatch to the surface, see if we could find an old warplight craft or something."
Tera shook her head. The access door near here is sealed. Looks like it happened recently, but something's blocked it off.
You can really only go deeper at this point.
Tash swore. "Seriously? That's the only access door for hundreds of kilometers. Guess you're really stuck down here now, Quick." Her voice carried a note of apology, and I sighed.
"It's fine. Let's just go deeper. Maybe somepony carried something down into here a long time ago, who knows."
"Yeah, maybe." She didn't sound convinced.
Hey, Tash. Give Quick back his suit. I have a schematic of the tunnels in here, I can display it to his helmet and it'll make it easier for me to go with you.
Grumbling, Tash relinquished my SCL suit. I slid it on, and shivered in satisfaction as the freezing air was rapidly heated by my body heat, banishing my trembling. I popped the helmet over my head, and had the comforting feeling of the heads-up display once again. A glowing blue line, not dissimilar in appearance to the linelight, superimposed itself over the floor, leading off into the darkness of the tunnel back in the direction we came from.
I've given you the most direct route to the door closest, I think, to the deep computer bank with the linguistic files, Tera said, her voice once more coming from the speakers in the helmet. No mapping data for what's past the door, though. Assuming you can even find a way through it, once you get through there, you're on your own.
"What's she saying?" asked Tash, clearly disliking being out of the loop. I pointed into the tunnel.
"She gave me the fastest route to the door closest to the big computer system," I responded. "It looks like it's going to take some time to get down there. You up for coming with me? You seem like you're pretty curious about this whole tunnel thing."
Before I'd even finished speaking, she was nodding. "Count me in. This is my first real chance to find out what this place really is, and I've lived in it since I was born. You couldn't stop me coming if you tried."
I like her, said Tera. She seems like the kind of pony you'd want on your side.
I thought back to the fight against the walker, and how her managun had paralyzed the mechanical monstrosity. "Yes," I muttered back, "yes she does."
Tash tilted her head in confusion. "Huh?"
I waved a hoof absently. "I was talking to Tera. Anyway. We should get going, right?" Tash nods, and I began to follow the blue line, walking back out into the darkness. Into, what I remembered with a shudder, was the direction the walker was in. Lovely. I flicked the headlamps on, and spoke into my helmet, "If anything moves, you let me know."
The high beams illuminated the tunnel. Sure thing, boss. Anything in particular?
"Ponies," I began, "and massive death robots with five legs made of blades that'll try to kill us on sight."
There was a brief moment of silence, and then: Wow. How much excitement did I miss?
"With any luck, you won't have to find out."
Killjoy.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I grumped. "Next time I have to try to fight a massive death robot, I'll make sure you don't miss the action!"
"Shut up, Quick. This is going to take some getting used to," chimed in Tash, a ghost of a smile clinging to her face. "Not to mention I'm the one that did most of the fighting anyway."
Snnnnrkk!
"Who knew," I deadpanned. "Turns out AIs can laugh too." Privately, I was impressed at just how like a real pony Tera was acting. Given that only a few days ago (I thought; time could get a little bit weird down in the tunnels) she was acting pretty much the same as the Starjumper's onboard AI, her casual needling at me was both unexpected and rather welcome. It was certainly more exciting than hearing a computer recite facts and figures. It was a shame Tash couldn't hear her as well.
Actually, now that I thought about it, didn't the suits have some sort of speaker function on the outside for communication in low-air or toxic environments? "Hey, Tera. Can you turn on the external speakers?"
Yeah, for sure. Her voice began to echo, and I realized it was bouncing back and forth off the walls of the tunnels. Tash jumped, looking around like she'd just heard somepony dying.
"Celestia!" she hissed, teeth clenched together. "Let me know when you're going to do that! I swear, if that thing brings a walker down on us, I'm going to ram your skull into the wall so hard they'll hear the pop in the Horsehead system!"
I shrugged, unfazed, and rolled my eyes. "Sure, like Tera is any louder than our own hoofsteps. She's the quietest one of us, and we need her to get down to the deep bank."
Also, chimed in Tera, I've been completely alone since I became self-aware. I need some kind of interaction, right?
"Oh, boo-hoo," said Tash crossly. "I've been alone for almost my entirely life too, and unlike you, I'm not functionally immortal!"
Huh?
Right, Tera hadn't been there to hear that. "Tash was born down in these tunnels," I cut into their spat. "She's been down her her entirely life. Now shut up, we have better things to worry about. Tera, you said that the only word you really recognized was 'architect'?"
Her avatar on my screen nodded. Yeah, that's right. Only reason I knew it was that it's the exact same word in proto-Equid, and it uses a an alphabet similar enough for me to understand a few words. Not quite the same, though, and pretty much all the other words are different.
Huh. That was interesting. "Proto-Equid?" echoed Tash.
The language ponies used way back in the beginning, before real Equus was was created, replied Tera. The fact that the same word shows up in each is pretty interesting. I really want to find out more about these Architects, what they were doing here, where they came from.
I shivered again, though this time it had nothing to do with the cold. It was eerie; these tunnels, these giant, silent tunnels that had been here for centuries, probably even millennia; what did they have to do with proto-Equid? It put some implications out there that weren't entirely comforting: had these..."Architects" talked with us when we were first using proto-Equid and assimilated it? If so, then why wasn't there any mention of that in any of the histories I'd read? I'd read almost all of them, at least the ones that I'd had access to on Hooftauri D, and there'd never been a mention of any creatures that called themselves Architects. Or, going even further down the rabbit hole, did they bring proto-Equid to us? Where did the language come from, anyway? What were they the Architects of? Of the tunnels? That seemed fairly obvious, but was that it, or did the term go deeper, go further back than merely making the tunnels?
I turned to ask Tash something-or-other, and caught her staring wide-eyed, right at me. Upon seeing me, she jumped a little, then turned away. I frowned. "Tash?"
"What?" Her response was practically a snarl, reminiscent of the first time I'd heard her speak.
"Where you...staring at me?"
She harrumphed, turning away and not looking at me. "No! I was...looking at your helmet..."
"What?"
She whipped around, snapping at me. "I've never seen white light not on the surface, okay? It's weird to see the tunnels, and I'm not sure I like it! If you weren't such a dirt licker, maybe we wouldn't need it at all!"
Well. I wasn't quite expecting that. I'd never even considered the fact that spending her entire life exploring tunnels in darkness might make her more sensitive to light. I mentally berated myself for my lack of insight, then, as a show of good faith, reached up and flicked the head lights off, plunging the tunnels once more into shadow.
Immediately, I heard Tash's sigh of relief, and Tera laughed lightly. It didn't echo, so I was fairly sure it was within my helmet. You gentlecolt, you!
"Oh, shut up," I whispered back, bad-tempered.
I heard a muted "thanks" from Tash, and nodded, trying to ignore the patterns of light that immediately began playing over my vision in the darkness, instead focusing on the bright blue line that still led away from me, cutting a path through the black abyss.
Then, abruptly, the line came to an end and Tash stopped moving. I continued, and was rewarded with a smacking sound as my helmet rammed into a wall. Backing up a bit, I looked in front of me, but was unable to discern anything. Muttering a brief apology to Tash, I flicked the light on again, not quite ready to be in total darkness quite yet, and was rewarded with a colossal circular door in front of me, filling the whole tunnel, stretching up past the range of light from my helmet. In the center, barely visible from where I was standing, there was a dim blue glow inscribing some form of symbol, casting a tiny light across the monolithic vault.
Well, said Tera, we're here.