//------------------------------// // Chapter IV // Story: Derp // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// The silence in Headmaster Fantasy’s office lay over Beige like a thick blanket, suffocating and weighty. She tried to remove it, but her chest refused to compress, trapping her air and her voice. One wide eye shifted slowly from him to Mayor Mare. The other blinked rapidly. Then they were both blinking, struggling to keep the moisture at bay. At last, her stomach’s vice-like grip faltered. “W-what did you say?” Mayor Mare shifted in her seat, casting furtive glances at the headmaster. “I’m sorry, Miss Beaker. I truly am.” They didn’t mean it. They hadn’t just told her… “S-say it again.” Headmaster Fantasy tugged on his tie with both hooves, his cheeks pale. “I wish I had better news. I was shocked too.” Beige’s legs shook. She struggled to remain upright. “You can’t. You can’t do this.” “The school is closing, Miss Beaker,” Mayor Mare said, quietly but firmly. “We’re doing it slowly, over a couple years, but it will close. There’s nothing I can do.” “But my research—” “Is over, at least as far as this institution in concerned.” The headmaster sighed and pressed a hoof to his forehead. “Miss Beaker. Beige. I did everything I could to stop this, but the budget just isn’t there anymore. Without Canterlot’s support, the school has to close.” Her lips trembled as Beige tried to find something, anything she could say to stop this. “Th-there are other programs you can cut. There are ways to save money. I only need a little more time. A-another few months, perhaps. We were closing on a breakthrough, I know it!” “In a couple years, we’ll all be out of the job or somewhere else.” Headmaster Fantasy sat back to stare at the ceiling. “I’ll probably have to get a teaching job in some big city school. Maybe a Dean’s position, if I can puff up my resume enough. You’re not the only one hurt by this.” The Mayor squirmed, as if she wanted to turn away from them both but was forcing herself not to. “Ponyville will just have to settle for Cheerilee’s school. It’s a perfectly fine place, and ponies who want some higher education can just… well… look elsewhere.” “There are ponies in this town who can’t look elsewhere!” Beige stomped and nearly fell over for her trouble. Both the Mayor and the headmaster moved as if to help, but she managed to recover before getting a face full of floor. She sat back up, moving slow both out of caution and to buy time to think. All her work, her studies, her data gathering… she had to protect it. “You are free to take your research with you,” Headmaster Fantasy said as she straightened up. “But I’m afraid your time here is at an end.” Beige pressed her hooves against the desk, one eye drifting over the bookshelf-covered wall and the other staring out the window. A black shadow hovered over her heart, and her stomach roiled. Voice low, she asked, “Is it because of my condition? Is that why I’m being let go first?” They shared a glance. Beige steamed. “We have to be practical about how we do this.” The headmaster spoke cautiously, as though he were attempting to calm a timberwolf. “You must understand, we—” “‘We’ nothing! I’m the hardest working teacher you’ve got in this place.” He tugged at his tie. His expression turned blank. “You haven’t worked in two months.” What had felt like a firm foundation suddenly became sandy and dangerous. Beige’s hooves shook again as she scrambled for a defense that didn’t involve her condition. “I… I help. I’ve been grading ponies’ papers and… a-and things like that. When they need the h-help. And—” “I’m afraid the decision is final.” For once, Mayor Mare spoke firmly. “There’s a lot more behind this than you can fathom, Derpy, and I am forced to apply my hooves in ways I don’t approve of, but—” “What did you call me?” The question slipped through Beige’s lips coated in ice, soft and low. She stood as still as stone, save for small twitches in her shoulders and lips. For the first time in ages, both eyes locked on one thing, that being the Mayor’s confused face. Beige could feel something within her boiling and bubbling, filling up her body. The Mayor paused, her gaze unfocusing and her lips working as if reciting her own words. Abruptly, she paled, her own eyes widening as comprehension dawned. She said nothing, only stared at Beige as if she faced death itself. She swallowed audibly as Headmaster Fantasy edged away. Beige felt as if she might explode. Her ears rang, and she could see red on the edge of her vision. Her wings shivered constantly with pent-up energy. For a moment – a sweet, bitter, wonderful, hideous moment – she imagined herself leaping over the desk and smashing the Mayor’s muzzle. Oh, but it would feel so good. Then, one eye slipped off the target of her fury, drifting gradually up to the ceiling. The motion triggered an entirely new sensation: pain. A horrible, searing edge digging itself into her chest. Tears began to form as Beige felt something akin to chains wrapping around her hooves, her wings, her throat. Her scream collapsed unheard, her anger roiling but unable to escape. She stared into the horrified, guilt-riven eyes of the Mayor for another second or two. She turned and galloped out of the office, heedless of anything they might have said in her flight. Her hoof drifted up and down over her cutie mark. Up, down. Up, down. If she kept rubbing, would the bubbles be erased? Maybe somepony knew a spell to get rid of cutie marks. That would be appropriate. She lay in the corner of her lab. Yes, her lab. It would always be hers, no matter what anypony said. Orange beams of light highlighted the particles of dust in the air, not so many as one might expect. She liked it clean in here. Here. In her lab. Her body ached. It felt like the touch of a ghost, as if the aching were only a memory, yet she knew it to be real. She’d slammed into too many walls on her short little gallop. At least, she thought it was short. Maybe it had been long. Maybe she’d galloped circles around the school and just hadn’t noticed. On that note, how long had she been lying here? It didn’t matter. She just wanted to stay here. If they wanted her gone, they’d have to drag her out. As if on cue, the door to the laboratory opened. Her left eye was focused on the chemical freezer, so she couldn’t see who it was. She didn’t care anyway. As the hoofsteps came closer, she shifted her head away from the sound and closed her eyes, indulging in the harsh chill of the tiled floor. “I thought I might find you here.” She hadn’t expected the Doctor. Regardless, she turned away from him and curled into a ball. “Go away.” Instead, he ran his hoof through her mane. His touch was gentle, as it had always been. The stallion didn’t have a hard cell in his entire body. He spoke in almost a whisper. “The headmaster told me. I went to your place first, thinking you might have wanted to see Chip. He’s real worried.” Oh. Chip. Pipette. Now Beige had guilt on top of her self-pity. She buried her face in her hooves and said nothing. She doubted she could say anything without bursting into tears. Again. “Come on, B. It’s not so bad. Our work was really coming along. I bet we could get grants from other institutions. Better ones.” Better ones. Yes, they could try that. And yet… She sniffed and shook her head. “No?” Silence lingered between them. Beige wanted to sink into the floor. It refused her. Not that this surprised her. She wouldn’t want to have her, either. “Talk to me.” His hoof settled on her shoulder. “Please, B. I can’t help you if you won’t talk.” Could she? Should she? She doubted he would even understand. Talking did nothing to resolve her situation, for it went beyond words. It descended into something else, something hateful, spiteful, and arrogant. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she did. Maybe if she said nothing, he would go away. But he didn’t go away. After an indeterminable time, he lay down at her side. He said not a word, just kept close. A wave of conflicting thoughts rushed Beige at his presence. Maybe if she screamed and raged like she’d wanted to earlier, he would leave her alone. No, she couldn’t do that to him. None of this was his fault. But if she didn’t do something, he’d stay by her side, because that was the kind of stallion he was. He was kind and caring and concerned and… and… Her friend. And keeping him out would be wrong of her, wouldn’t it? Of course it would. She knew it well. How could she even consider pushing him away? So, with no small amount of effort, she forced the words out of her throat. “She called me Derpy.” The name brought the sting back to her heart. The Doctor shifted. “Who?” Her lips seemed sealed by glue. Tears leaked from her eyes as she pried them apart. “The Mayor.” “Oh.” A long pause. “I… don’t know what to say to that.” She sniffed and rubbed her muzzle. “I don’t, either.” She opened her eyes. The world blurred for a few seconds, and she blinked the tears away. Her vision cleared, and she found herself gazing at a cabinet handle and her flank. Her flank… her cutie mark. She remembered acquiring it during science class one day as a filly. Oh, the things she’d imagined she could do! Now nopony would dare leave her alone in a laboratory full of fragile, expensive equipment. Including her. She sighed and closed her eyes once more. “Am I going to be like this for the rest of my life?” His answer came quickly. Too quickly. “No, of course you won’t.” Despite everything, she smiled. That was just like him, to lie for her. “Thanks, Doctor.” “I’m serious.” He ran his hoof through her mane again. She had to admit, it felt nice. “Things will get better, B. You’re not doomed. Somepony will figure this out.” “Will they?” She lifted her head, even though it seemed to weigh a ton. She opened her left eye and, with a bit of effort, managed to look at his face. He appeared… tired. Ragged. His mane was all frazzled, part of it hanging over his face. But his eyes still shone brightly when they settled upon her. “They will. You’ve got to believe that.” She sighed and let her head fall once more. “I’m not sure I can. Shouldn’t the doctors have found something by now if they could?” Her left eye drifted to the ceiling, through the thin beams of sunlight. She watched the dust dance. She imagined those little dots fluttering around her wings. “We still have our research.” “You do, perhaps.” She pouted and rolled so she was on her belly, but left her chin on the floor. “I can’t be in a lab, Doctor. I’m too clumsy now. We’re dealing with some potent stuff.” “But you still know the science,” he countered, a bit of energy returning to his voice. “I can handle the lab! You can focus on analysis. We can still do this.” She shifted her head to catch a look at him in the corner of her vision. The tiniest fraction of the weight on her mind lifted. “You… you think so?” “Of course I do!” He straightened up and puffed out his chest. “You’re not useless, Beige. You’re still a scientist. A chemist. We’ll get funding from a more appropriate institution, one worthy of having your name attached to it. And when they’re spreading fertilizing clouds all over and Equestria is feeding the world, it will be your name on everypony’s lips.” She chuckled at his display. “Our names, Doctor.” “Maybe.” He grinned and poked her shoulder. “But yours will be on top.” She smiled. Good goddess, it felt good to smile. She let her eyes drift across the laboratory. So she could barely walk. So she couldn’t fly. So ponies were calling her degrading names now. “You know what? You’re right.” She picked herself up into a sitting position as quickly as she dared and stretched her wings. “I’m not useless. I can still do this. I’ve lost so much because of this stupid affliction, but I’ve still got my brains. I’m still a chemist.” “That’s right.” He held her shoulder, lips stretched in a grin. She loved when he smiled like that. It was when he had that smile that he did his best work. “You are Beige Beaker, and you’re the best darn chemist this side of Canterlot.” With a giggle, she patted his cheek. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.” “Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smile turning smug. Then, before he or her wacky balance could stop her, she grabbed him by the ears, bent his head down and kissed him just above the eyes. “Thanks, Doctor. Really. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.” She pulled back to find his entire face turned to roughly the same color as a tomato, right up to his ears. He sputtered and stared at his hooves before managing to squeak out a barely audible “Welcome.” She laughed – wow, she could still do that? – and rubbed her hooves together. “Alright, Doc, time to make some plans. These losers don’t want us? We’ll go somewhere else! But first, I wanna get all our research out of here.” Although the red hadn’t left his face, Doctor Whooves still managed to put on his confident working expression, ears perked and eyes focused on her. “Right. We can move it all to my place for now, I’ve got the room. We’ll have to replace some of the equipment, seeing as a third of it belongs to the school, but we’ll make do.” She gave a firm nod and started to stand, but the world swung wildly and she had to drop to her haunches again. At least the motions didn’t make her feel nauseous anymore. “I don’t think I’ll be much help when it comes to moving things. I can… uh… take the paperwork? For now, why don’t we take inventory, figure out what needs to go?” “Sounds good. We can’t do much now anyway; you’ve gotta get back to Chip and let him know you’re alright.” She blinked, then groaned. “Chip! How could I forget? He’s probably worried sick.” He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna go? Come back tomorrow?” “Yeah, I’d better. But, uh…” She looked about the lab. “Do we have the latest research results? I’d like to go over them. Give me something to think about in the meantime.” “Can do.” He turned and trotted for one of the filing cabinets. As he did, she turned her head slowly to take in the laboratory one more time. She smiled wistfully; she was going to miss this place. She’d not had many quality students, and the facility, if she spoke honestly, direly needed an upgrade. Still… it had been home. “Here we are.” Doctor Whooves held a set of papers before her muzzle. “Compiled this data just two days ago.” “Wonderful!” She snatched it from him and pored over the front page with one eye. “I’ll get my mind going again. Who knows, maybe my weird vision will let me see things from… a new… perspective?” The doctor had already run half-across the lab to gather some things. He turned around, more papers in his hooves. “Something wrong?” “I…” She stared at the title of the page. At a single word. Not a simple word by the average pony’s standards, but for her? The very definition of simple. “So why can’t I…” “What is it?” The Doctor eyed her curiously, then chuckled. “Did I misspell something?” A chill ran through Beige. She licked her lips, taking in one letter at a time. “E. Eeeyou… E…you…trooo… why don’t I know this word?” “Uh…” The Doctor shifted in the corner of her vision. “You mean eutrophication?” “Eutro… tro…” Her hooves began to shake. “I know this word. I know what it means. I know what it means. I do.” “But of course you do, it’s your study.” He smiled, but stretched his lips too wide. “C’mon, B, stop trying to pull my tail. I’m not—” “I should know what this means!” She flipped through pages frantically, her eye falling upon word after mysterious word. The simple, everyday ones were easy as ever, but the technical jargon? “No. No. No. No. No!” She pulled one of the pages with such force it ripped through the stapler and fluttered away. “I can’t read this!” Dr. Whooves eyes widened. “You can’t?” She threw the paper aside, head spinning and panic setting in. She stumbled to her hooves and ran for the chemical freezer. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening!” “Whoa, calm down!” Beige slammed into the freezer and jerked it open. Dozens of beakers and bottles were arrayed before her, each with a label. She grabbed the nearest one and saw only a chemical formula. Numbers and letters pressed together. She should be able to identify it, to say what the symbols meant, but… “No.” She shoved the bottle aside and grabbed a beaker. More letters. More numbers. She squinted at it with one eye, then another. “No.” She pushed it back and snatched up a vial. This one actually had the name written in her own mouthwriting, and yet… “No!” The vial flew over her shoulder. She barely registered the yelp of the Doctor, her attention focusing on each bottle as she grabbed one after the other in quick procession. Words. Nonsense. It was all nonsense! “No!” She slammed her hooves on the rack, causing bottles to shake and spill their contents. She screamed at the ceiling, only to be cut off when her balance went haywire and sent her careening sideways. Her chin bashed against the top of the freezer door and she hit the floor hard. “Beige!” She crawled away on her back, vision swimming and heart throbbing. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the chemicals mix. She knew what they were, knew what would happen when they combined, which was… which was… which was what? Somepony caught her shoulders, wrapped her in a hug from behind. She looked up, into the concerned eyes of Doctor Whooves. “Calm down, Beige. Please, just calm down.” Everything came to a boiling point all over again. Her entire body trembled as she clutched his hooves against her chest. “I’m a chemist. I’m a chemist, aren’t I?” “You are,” he answered forcefully. “You’re a great chemist, B.” “Then why can’t I remember?” Her voice cracked. Her vision blurred. “D-Doctor, what’s happening to me?” He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He tightened his hold and buried his face in her mane. “I don’t know. But it’s going to be alright. I promise, Beige. I p-promise.” Words. Good words. But only words. Beige closed her eyes and sobbed. “I’m a chemist. I’m a chemist. I’m a chemist…”