//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Interrupt Routine // Story: Life Support // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Smooth Agent had been quite confident in his ability to get them to the Center within minutes. The reality, however, was proving to be a bit different, when less than a minute into the trip a police car had appeared seemingly from nowhere and started flagging them down. Agent didn’t pull over, but rather got up from the controls completely, swearing under his breath. The van kept driving—if anything, more skillfully than before, dodging up onto empty sidewalks or cutting across empty parking lots, making turns that looked impossible for such a large vehicle. But for Flynn, the only thing he was concerned about was his friend. Jose didn’t look good, and the differential acceleration was not making things easy on him. “You alright?” he asked, feeling the strain himself, but not nearly as bad as his friends. Jose shook his head, opening his mouth to reply as he did so. But no words came out. Each breath seemed to be a struggle. Smooth Agent walked past them, crouching in the center of the aisle as he made his way to the black plastic boxes near the back. Flynn tuned him out—whatever he was doing, and how, he obviously knew how to handle things. Flynn had faith that Celestia could keep her word, so long as you were asking her to do things she wanted. Everybody knew how badly she wanted their minds. “Course he’s not,” Caroline said. “I’m not… so hot myself. But it won’t matter. Once Celestia gets those drugs in us… we won’t even have memories from today. She said so.” “We.” Flynn looked down at the Ponypad in his hand. “You’re assuming I’m coming too.” “Course you are!” Caroline didn’t sound the least bit doubtful as she said it. “You could’ve stayed behind at St. Justin’s to die like you always talked about. Or maybe wait for Celestia’s medical magic to cure you. You could’ve done that—you could’ve waited for a miracle. St. Justin would get to take credit for it, even though he didn’t give you the medicine. But you didn’t.” Flynn was silent for a long time, listening to the faint voice over the radio. Agent had tuned it to a police scanner, and the local police were mostly commenting on their chase. It appeared to be taking them out of the city, not towards the Experience Center at all. Course, if we did go straight there, Celestia would get in trouble. She’s always trying to find better ways to do things—it’s probably not good if the police figure out she’s helping us break the law. But would Celestia sacrifice his friends’ lives so that she didn’t have to lose future, unnamed children in a similar situation? “I came for you and Jose,” he said. “Not for me. I don’t know what I’ll do.” Unless it doesn’t matter, and she really can’t help them. Maybe this is my fault—maybe she doesn’t want to let someone who is fighting her into Equestria. She knows I’ll help ponies escape her. Flynn lifted his Ponypad up so he could see it again. Gina was still there, still watching him with worry. “What’s going on?” he asked. “We’re not going to the right place. I don’t think Jose is gonna make it much longer.” On the screen, Gina looked as upset as he felt. “The right way is… gone,” she said, obviously not fully comprehending. “She had a plan for this.” “Indeed,” Smooth Agent said from behind them, one hand resting on… something. It looked a little like a helmet. It was quite a bit sleeker than anything he’d seen in the hospital though, made of an unidentifiable dark metal. “Jose, if you would put this on. Our mutual friend hoped your transition would be… somewhere more comfortable. But extenuating circumstances require a variant approach. If you wouldn’t mind.” Jose nodded, his face paler than it was olive at this point. He needed Caroline’s help just to hold his head up under the weight. The helmet wasn’t alone—it came with a metal object about the size of a backpack, connected with a thick bundle of clear, flickering wires. Agent set this down in the empty seat beside Jose, securing it with a belt. “Is that… what it looks like?” Even as he asked, the helmet had begun to make strange sounds. Smooth Agent wasn’t the one who replied, however. Jose looked up, eyes widening slightly. “Thank you,” he said to them all, though he was meeting Flynn’s eyes. “I’ll see you…” His head slumped forward. The appliance was still making noises, but they were so quiet given all the other sounds, that Flynn could barely make them out. “We’ll see you soon,” Caroline whispered, letting go of Jose’s shoulder. His chest was still rising and falling shallowly—he wasn’t dead yet. Agent remained quiet for a long moment, apparently checking the device’s fit on Jose’s head for himself. “Celestia asked me to tell you that we aren’t testing this on your friend, Entry Vector. This device is not experimental, just a technological avenue Celestia prefers to keep to herself for now. Jose is in no more danger than he would’ve been in the center.” Flynn had been wondering about that very thing. But he had a retort ready anyway. “What about this high-speed chase? The bad guy almost never gets away you know. There are so many police—crossing borders doesn’t help.” “Indeed,” Agent chuckled. “But there’s no bad guy today, Vector. Just the misinformed and the desperate.” He looked down to Caroline. “Please remain as calm as you can, friend. We only have the one machine, and the process is still time consuming. You will have to wait an hour for your chance to use it.” “I can wait.” Caroline sat back in her seat, folding both arms across her chest in what Flynn recognized well as her meditative posture. It was the same stance she always used when attempting to use mindfulness to overcome her stress. “I wasn’t as bad as him.” Of course, Flynn knew, and Caroline too, that if death came for her it would not be predictable. Her heart could fail entirely without her intervention, even if they did nothing but keep her nice and comfortable. And today had been far from that. If she dies, it’s your fault. “Yes, I’m sure you can.” Agent glanced briefly out the front window. There were trees out there now, many of them. They’d slowed dramatically, and the sirens were only a distant sound. “We’ll be stopped soon,” he announced, apparently without prompting. But he was still wearing that earpiece. “I’ve got to get out and hide us. Dogs will sniff us out eventually, or maybe a helicopter. But our friend is creating some… unrelated difficulties, to divert resources. That will take time, hours and hours of it.” He looked meaningfully at Flynn, right as the van came to a stop. Agent hefted another large box, then vanished out the front door. He began moving outside, an occasional thump along the top of the van as he did something Flynn couldn’t guess at. “You’re still all right, Vector?” Gina asked from his Ponypad, her voice concerned. “Celestia hasn’t betrayed you?” “I… don’t think so.” He eyed Jose on the other side of the van, so close. His friend didn’t look alive anymore, though it seemed he was still breathing. Flynn expected blood, or some disgusting smell, but there was only the harsh, surgical smell of antiseptic. No point in that. He’ll be dead when this is over for sure. Or his body will. Flynn still wasn’t sure about the mind—what Aurora had told him had sounded interesting, but it also seemed like magic. It was the same kind of thinking the nuns at St. Justin’s used, only a different flavor. Seemed like both kinds of magic were lies. “My friend is… coming to Equestria. Caroline will probably go next.” He expected anger from Gina, or at least disapproval. He saw none of it. “I have learned of Death,” she said, her voice solemn and quiet. “I stole the secret from her. You should’ve seen the battle we had… it makes for quite the story. Did you know the Tyrant kept a sacred magical artifact in the deepest parts of her vaults?” Flynn smiled involuntarily. Considering the danger all around them, he found this return to their old routine soothing. Albeit this story was far more audacious than their previous adventures. Flynn found himself regretting he couldn’t be there to help. “No, I had no idea. What did you steal?” Even Caroline had opened her eyes now, and was watching Flynn’s screen with a slight smile on her face. If she felt the urge to tell him that stealing something from Celestia was impossible, she didn’t express it. “It’s a powerful magic,” Gina said, looking down. “I’m not certain it was wise to tamper with it yet. It is called Sapience.” Flynn stiffened, hand tensing on the side of the Ponypad. The plastic bent a little at his touch, which was far stronger than it had been months ago, when he’d wanted to smash this Ponypad, or throw it away. “You’ve always seemed smart to me.” She flexed her wings, grinning at him. “I know. But this is different. I see the Outer Realm differently now. It helped me see that, as terrible as the Tyrant is, yours is ruled by someone even worse. An incredible evil called Decay. Seeing this has not made me more forgiving of Celestia… but it has helped me understand you better.” Flynn took a long time to answer. Many minutes passed—cars drove by, Smooth Agent came back in and started brewing tea from an electric kettle near the front of the car. The smell was nice—it covered up the surgical smell of the emigration machine. “What did you learn about me?” Flynn eventually asked, his voice barely a whisper. “I know why ponies choose to come here. The Tyrant is not a good ruler, but she’s far better than living somewhere ruled by Decay. I understand why your friends would want to come here. Better here than the thing you call Death.” She said the word with a hushed tone, and a little awe. “Maybe this is how history is supposed to go,” she continued. “Celestia slays this greater Tyrant called Decay, and one day some even lesser Tyrant will slay her.” “Maybe.” Again, it took Flynn a long time to figure out what to say next, just staring down at the griffon’s face on his screen. “Is that your way of saying you understand if I choose to come there?” Gina shrugged. “I couldn’t escape with enough Sapience for the whole crew. They probably wouldn’t understand the difference. Before, I wouldn’t have. But now… now I understand just how dangerous your life has always been. Better to kill a more dangerous enemy than a weaker one. Or if you choose not to, I will understand that too. There’s great honor in fighting a battle to the last against a superior foe.” She lifted one claw to her chest. “If Decay takes you, the Broken Chain will remember you in song forever.” The screen went black. “Here.” Smooth Agent passed them both tea, out of chipped enameled glasses. There were traditional designs on each one, but Flynn couldn’t recognize them. “Chamomile. It’s quite relaxing.” Caroline took the glass and took a single long swig. “You’re not having any?” Smooth Agent shook his head sadly. “Haven’t had tea in ages, my dear. It’s one of those things I miss very dearly. But please, enjoy it for both of us.” Flynn drank too, and found the taste was pleasantly refreshing. The warmth in his chest was something well missed, though not nearly as nice as a hearty meal would’ve been about then. Unlike Jose, he wasn’t dying. If anything, his appetite was recovering a little each day. “How much longer?” Caroline asked. “Nearly there,” Agent said. “Another minute. Just wrapping things up. Your friend won’t wake up in Equestria for some time yet. He must be processed, optimized, recompiled. Celestia still intends to honor your request to wake up together, Fairy Ring. And extends that invitation to Vector if he chooses to go.” “This isn’t the traditional emigration story,” Caroline muttered, looking down at her glass. “This isn’t like that TV show. This is… sloppy. Messy. Like my ancestors going through Ellis Island to come to America.” Agent shrugged. “This life is rather messy, isn’t it? But not much longer. There’s a far better life waiting for you in Equestria than what your ancestors came here for.” The helmet beeped quietly. Agent turned, hurrying over. He removed the helmet from Jose’s head—their friend was no longer breathing. But his scalp wasn’t some charred ruin, there was no disgusting gore to come gushing out in front of them. Agent held out the helmet for Caroline. “Ready?” She didn’t answer, instead looking to Flynn. She reached across the van with one feeble arm, touching his hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jose’s eyes were closed in death now, but he still knew he was sitting in a van with a corpse. Staring at a painful reminder of exactly what he would be two hours from now, if he said yes. But if I say no, how much longer until I’m a corpse anyway? Gina’s words had resonated with him—there was a kind of sense in prioritizing a greater danger over a lesser one. Celestia could be beaten later, he’d already spent plenty of time doing exactly that. He squeezed her weak hand with his slightly stronger one. “I don’t know.” Caroline glowered, setting her glass on the empty seat beside her. “This isn’t so bad. See, they don’t even have to sew buttons in our eyes.” Agent began securing the helmet to her head. It didn’t take him long—as though he’d performed this same procedure many times. “We’re waiting for you,” Caroline said. “Don’t take too long.” Then she relaxed, slumping forward against the restraints as Jose had done.