//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Hardware Upgrade // Story: Life Support // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Flynn could hear many sirens in the distance. They were coming frequently now. He could hear at least one helicopter, as well as the distant sound of people moving through the trees. A search party had finally been mobilized. “Transfer complete,” Agent announced, indicating Caroline. Flynn was now sitting in a car with a pair of corpses. That’s probably the wrong word if emigration really works. Shells. They’re shells. His friends weren’t dead, they were somewhere else. Somewhere away from all this, waiting for him. “Just waiting for you now, Entry Vector.” He began removing the helmet—as before, there was nothing gross when he took it off. He didn’t walk it across the van, though. “Looks like you still have some doubts.” Flynn nodded, staring down at his hands. “Did she tell you that?” Agent hesitated—all the answer Flynn needed, really. “It’s understandable. If the whole world has questions about it, then it makes sense you would too. It’s like so many of those questions in science—even when all the facts are known, it can take some time for the truth to win out. I get it. Maybe I can help.” He watched Flynn, whose eyes were still on the bodies of his friends. “This, uh… probably isn’t the best situation for it. In your position, that’s got to be disturbing. Perhaps you’d like to come with me up into the cab?” He nodded, still unable to look away from the bodies. “I’d like that very much.” And he would, he wasn't sure how much he could sit back here without freaking out. Even knowing his friends weren't actually dead, that didn't make what he was sitting with any less a pair of corpses belonging to the two people he cared about most in the whole world. A few minutes later and Agent had manhandled him into the passenger seat. The front of the cab was completely dark, no light at all coming in from the outside despite the clear glass. “It’s night already? Why don’t I see any stars?” “Active camouflage,” Agent answered, clicking shut the door into the cargo area of the van on his way in. “We can’t see outside because none of the light is coming in. It should keep us hidden long enough for you to…” He glanced down at the machinery. He’d brought it in, setting it on the floor between them. “Well, if you decide. I must admit, what’s ahead for us if you don’t… the prospect isn’t good. I don’t say that to try to pressure or intimidate you, mind. Just that you ought to know the realities of your choice should you decide to remain behind in the material.” “They’ll catch us,” he muttered. “Better than being dead.” “Yes, it would be.” Agent kept his voice down. “But death isn’t what’s waiting for you in Equestria. Rather the opposite.” “How would you know?” Flynn raised his voice—probably not a good idea considering the dangers if they got caught, but he couldn’t really help himself. “You’ve never done it! Uploading is so convenient, isn’t it? The only ones who could prove to us Celestia is wrong are dead. And the only ones who could prove that she’s right can only be seen in Equestria. So maybe she’s just imitating them—she’s so good at making fake people we’d never know the difference!” “I can see why you’d think that,” he said. “And yes, there is a measure of trust involved. Given where you were, makes sense would have problems with trust. But you’re wrong about one of those things. There are other places you can talk to ponies who have uploaded. You’re talking to one right now.” Flynn laughed, though another passing helicopter somewhat strangled the gesture. “No, I’m not. Gina’s in my Ponypad, and you’re the only one still alive in this van. Unless we can just wait until my friends wake up.” “We could.” Agent reached to one side, pulling back his long, white sleeve from his left arm. Then he pulled off his arm. There was a light mechanical click as he did so, and a few beeping sounds of protest. Agent turned the limb around, so Flynn could see the metallic connector, with its strange fiberoptics. The metallic base, where it attached to his flesh. “Y-you’re…” “Quite mechanical,” Agent said, reattaching the limb. It clicked back into place, and he flexed his fingers again, one at a time. Then he rolled the sleeve of his scrubs back down. “I wasn’t always. But doing work like this is dangerous, and singular instantiation is restrictive. There’s no substitute for hooves on the ground. I’ve been uploaded, Flynn. She wouldn’t let me keep working out here otherwise. The dangers…” Another car drove by along the road, apparently much slower than before. They were running out of time. “B-but…” Flynn stammered. “Why would she let you?” He took a deep, gasping breath. “Equestria just seemed so pointless to me. Celestia’s better at everything than everyone. She doesn’t need us. She could do all this better than you can.” “Oh, I’m sure.” If Agent was offended by his words, he didn’t show it. “But she can also make me better. I’m another part of the whole, another limb.” He rested one hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “We’re all starstuff in the end, kid. This choice won’t change that. I can promise you. And the other things I’ve done… well, you wouldn’t have to do any of those. Just the once across the doorway, and that’s it. “But the door’s closing fast. The camouflage isn’t perfect, and the ones looking for you aren’t stupid. In your present condition, I can’t take you with me. They’ll probably bring you back to St. Justin’s. Your odds after that…” He shrugged. “Celestia seems to think she can cure you. Give it another year, and you’ll be healthy again. The world around you won’t be, though. This is your chance not to experience those things. Haven’t you been through enough pain?” Flynn thought about that a long time. He put out his hand, and Agent handed him the helmet. It was smooth and cool to the touch, with a few internal indentations. Its machinery was entirely concealed while not in use, there were no spikes or any other crude medical apparatus to frighten him. “Do you know why I don’t wanna go?” Agent hesitated. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. She only said something unpleasant had happened with your family, and you were on bad terms. Apparently, privacy is one of your values.” He nodded. “I don’t want to close my eyes and not wake up. Being sick as long as I have…” He’d started to sniff, wiping away a few drops of moisture with the back of one arm. It had been a long time since he’d let anyone else see him crying. Even when he thought he was dying, Flynn hadn’t let anyone see. Not since his parents had died. “Every night could be my last. Go to sleep, never wake up. I don’t know whether this thing is the same way until I put it on. Not that I think you’re lying, but… you know. You might not know. You might only think you’re really whoever Smooth Agent used to be. You might just be a good copy.” Agent shrugged. “Some things come down to trust, kid. But some don’t. I know there’s no one in the whole world who cares about us more than Celestia does. She cared enough to know the three of you were in danger—she knew down to the second when Agave needed to emigrate.” “So, could I do that? Wait until I’m about to die, like he did? Years and years away…” It almost didn’t feel real when he said it like that. But I only have Celestia’s word that I’m really cured. If I trust her about that, why wouldn’t I trust her about everything else? “Maybe.” Again, Agent shrugged. “But there’s no way to predict what will happen out here in the physical world. Accidents happen, and even Celestia isn’t omniscient. Even she can’t predict what the rest of the world will do—you certainly can’t. But you can decide what you’ll do. You can be proactive and set the terms for the rest of the world, or try and react to what it does to you. Maybe you’re the sort of pony who lands on his feet.” Not really, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead he asked, “Is there still enough time?” Agent nodded. “This van isn’t what it seems. Even if they find it, they won’t get in. Not in time for it to matter to you, anyway.” Flynn’s fingers tightened on the helmet. It felt a little like he was holding a key in his hands then. That key led somewhere strange, somewhere he hated. But maybe not somewhere as bad as he’d thought. “What will you do with me once I’m gone?” Agent’s face betrayed a hint of discomfort. “You, uh… don’t want to know, kid. And she wouldn’t let me tell you. But I don’t think that matters to you. You won’t be here. Your friends already aren’t. If we had more time, we could sit here until Celestia’s finished waking them up. But there isn’t time for that.” He glanced down at his wristwatch, pulling back one sleeve as he did so. There’s got to be a clock in there. He’s just doing that for me. But Flynn didn’t question him, there was no point. “I guess I don’t need to say goodbye to anyone,” he said, mostly to himself. “Everyone I know is already there. But…” He hesitated. “Jose and Caroline weren’t the only ones like them at St. Justin’s. They’ve got the worst caseworkers coming there. I swear they must pick them out to make things hard for us. My friends were brave, but some of the kids left behind aren’t.” He might’ve felt guilty saying this about anyone else, like he was selling them out. But the kids still living at St. Justin’s were dying. The world had little prospect left for them. They’d been screwed by fate more than most. “Celestia appreciates your honesty,” Agent said. “And she wants you not to worry about them. She never intends to force humans to emigrate, but humans trying to force each other she won’t tolerate for much longer. Your friends there will have their chance. Hopefully it’s more pleasant than yours was.” He glanced back at the truck. “She didn’t intend for you to have to experience all this.” Flynn shrugged. “It was probably for the best. I dunno if I would’ve got into the chair. If we really made it to the experience center.” He set the helmet on his head, scrunching up his face in anticipation of some terrible pain. But nothing happened. Agent reached over, securing the strap over his chin, and it tightened so that he could feel the cool metal against his scalp. He started to twitch, yet still nothing happened. He opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?” “You have to give her permission,” Agent answered. “Your friends already had. Guess you haven’t. You just have to say…” “I don’t want to emigrate to Equestria,” Flynn grunted, fingers tightening on the seat. This was his last chance, and something deep in his bones was screaming in his mind. He’d attached something terrible to himself, he knew. This was his body’s last chance to survive. But he didn’t claw it off. “I give my consent to help me emigrate anyway,” Flynn continued. “Screw this place. Screw the police, the cancer. I hope it all goes to hell.” He felt Agent’s hand on his shoulder again, at the exact same moment as a distant hiss, and flare of pain from his scalp. It wasn’t that bad, really—like someone tearing up a few strands of hair. “Not to hell,” he said, smiling. “It’s all going to Equestria eventually. Except for the cancer.” The world went fuzzy. He couldn’t make out colors anymore, and only vague suggestions of shapes. “Good luck, kid. They’re already waiting for you.” Flynn slumped forward against the restraints, and thought no more.