//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: The City Upon a Hill // by GaPJaxie //------------------------------// Apex shot her. He actually shot her. Three rounds. One gel round to knock the spark generator out of her hooves, one gel round in her gut to take the fight out of her, then a taser shot to keep the fight out of her. Then he opened the door, turned off the wind tunnel, and held her down until the police arrived. Dash didn’t say anything when they questioned her. She didn’t say anything to anypony. She didn’t look at them. She didn’t try to move. She just let them pick her up like a sack of meat and toss her onto a gurney. She wanted to go to the police station, but instead they took her to a hospital. She could hear a lot, from her hospital bed. There were ponies talking about her. Sometimes, the robotic arms in the walls would give her shots. Apex was inconsolable. He’d shot one of the masters. Death was too merciful for a machine that betrayed its creators. Rainbow’s mother had to give him a hug, and talk him down from decommissioning himself on the spot. Eventually, a machine that pretended it was a doctor came and sat beside her bed. She didn’t look at it. If she didn’t look at it, they couldn’t track her gaze. They couldn’t figure out what was going on inside her head. If they couldn’t figure out what was going on inside her head, they couldn’t try to fix it. They’d have to label her ‘incurable’ and move on. That was the key. She had to want to not get better. Which was easy, since she never would. She stayed in the hospital for a while, until eventually they said she could be taken home. They carted her back, and wheeled her up to her room, and dumped her in bed. And she remained there. Sometimes, when she opened her eyes, her mother or Apex were there. But she didn’t give them anything. Until one day, she opened her eyes, and something was different. It was dark, but there in the shadows was a new pony. A pegasus mare, with a purple coat and a white mane, and a shooting star for a cutie mark. Rainbow didn’t know her. This was new. Involuntarily, her eyes flicked to look at the mare’s face. Her heart jumped. She’d betrayed herself, and the mare saw. “Hello, Master.” The mare bowed her head until it touched the edge of the bed. “My name is Cloudchaser. I am your familiar, and I was given life to serve your every wish.” “I can’t have a familiar,” Rainbow croaked. “I’m insane.” “Well, you got one.” Cloudchaser shrugged. “And you didn’t make it easy either. I arrive in this world, distilled from the ether and poured into a mortal form, and what’s the first thing I get? A notification from emergency services. I had to fly here. With my own two wings. That’s not normal, Master.” Rainbow didn’t know what to say. Eventually, she croaked: “I don’t want you.” Cloudchaser hesitated. “I know. But you’re suffering and… well. Maybe I can make it better.” For a time, neither of them said anything. Then Cloudchaser reached out into the shadows, and when she brought her hooves back, she was holding a cup of water. “Here. Drink this, Master. It will help you sleep.” Rainbow drank it. Darkness consumed her. And when next she woke up, she felt wind on her face. Her eyes sprang open. The room was filled with sunlight. Wind whipped through the air. The Spitfire poster on her wall fluttered and snapped in the breeze, the pins holding it down not adequate to the task. It finally ripped from the wall entirely, sucked away and out of her sight. Rainbow rolled over. She sat up in bed. Where her window used to be, there was nothing. It was gone—a hole in the side of the building. From her bed, she could look out over the sheer edge and see all 180 stories down to the terraces below. It was a beautiful day. So Rainbow got out of bed. She rummaged around in her closet until she found her old craft projects box. She found the roll of duct-tape, and duct-taped her wings to her side. Then she walked up to the ledge and braced herself. She took one last breath. She tightened her haunches. She stuck her foreleg out over the edge. Then she saw a pegasus below her—a light purple thing, with a white mane streaking behind her. Rainbow lept, but Cloudchaser tackled her before she could fall. They impacted just fifteen feet beyond the edge of Rainbow’s room, and tumbled backwards together to land on her bed in a pile. “Let me die, dammit!” Rainbow shouted. So Cloudchaser slapped her. It was a good slap—sharp and quick. Rainbow froze, then slowly reached a hoof up to touch her cheek. Cloudchaser was on top of her, holding her down to the bed. And then Cloudchaser shouted: “You have really pretty wings!” They both stared at each other, gasping for breath. Cloudchaser went on, her voice torn: “You have really pretty wings and I don’t want you to die before you’ve used them. If you really want to kill yourself after that I’ll help you but you need to try this first.” Rainbow rubbed her cheek again. Cloudchaser’s hoof had left a mark. “What do you mean you’ll... help me?” “I love you, Master.” Cloudchaser’s voice was thick, and for a moment, she had trouble forming words. “I love you more than anything and I can’t stand seeing you suffer. And if you’re really in so much pain that life isn’t worth living, then I’ll… do whatever you need me to do. But I want you to try flying first.” “I’ve…” Rainbow’s wings flexed under the duct-tape. “I’ve been flying.” “Wind tunnels don’t count. I mean real flying. Between the towers and across the gardens, where you’re free to go wherever you want and do whatever you want to do. That… that kind of…” She trailed off. They stared at each other for a long time. Eventually, Cloudchaser finished: “That kind of flying.” “Get off me,” Rainbow ordered. Cloudchaser obeyed. “You don’t love me. Stop pretending you do. You’re a machine.” Cloudchaser showed no reaction. She just pressed her hoof to her chest. “I was built to love you, Master. It’s what I want most in this world.” Then, abruptly, Cloudchaser turned her head. There was the sound of hooves on the stairs. The door to the hallway opened, and Rainbow’s mother stepped in. “What in the…?” She stared at the room. She saw the duct-tape on Rainbow’s wings. “Oh my goodness!” She took a step forward. Cloudchaser stepped in her way. “Excuse me? You’re interrupting a private conversation.” Rainbow’s mother gaped. So did Rainbow, for that matter. Eventually her mother managed to speak: “I’m sorry!? I come up here because the cameras suddenly stopped working, and I find you two like this!?” “Off-the-record communications between a pony and their familiar are privileged.” Her tone never strayed into anger, but it was distinctly firm. “I am legally prohibited from disclosing any of what occurred without my master’s approval or a search warrant, neither of which you posses. Additionally, she has the legal right to consult with me in private at any time, and so I am going to have to ask you to leave.” “Wha…” Rainbow’s mother let out a sharp snort. Her eyes went wide. She lifted a hoof to her head. “Did Rainbow just try to kill herself!?” “As I explained, I cannot—” “No no. This… this is ridiculous.” Her mother waved a hoof. “Rainbow needs help. You’ve been here a day and all you’ve done is given a poor troubled filly her own suicide ledge! This isn’t working. Put her window back. Now. And Rainbow come with me.” Rainbow didn’t move. Cloudchaser didn’t move. “Master Dash can give me orders,” she growled. “You can’t.” Rainbow’s mother glowered. “Fine. Rainbow? Please order the stupid robot to put your window back.” Still, Rainbow said nothing. Her mother leaned around to look her in the eye. “Rainbow, do as you’re told!” “Fine…” Rainbow waved a hoof. “Put the window back.” “No.” Both Rainbow and her mother jerked their heads back. Cloudchaser stood firm, a glower on her face. “I don’t think Master Dash told me to do that. I think you told me to do that, using her mouth. I think that what she needs and what you think she needs are not the same thing. And I think you’re upsetting the pony I love. So I repeat: Master Dash has a right to speak with me in private. Which means we need to talk, and you need to go!” Then, Cloudchaser gave Rainbow’s mother a shove. Just a little one. Just to make the point. Then a slightly firmer one, until she was out in the hall. Then Cloudchaser shut and locked the door. Rainbow stared. “Holy fuck,” she whispered. Her hooves went to her face. Her eyes went wide. “Robot revolution.” “No. No. No.” Cloudchaser laughed, but it was a thin laugh. She put a hoof over her chest, and sunk to the floor. “Oh. I shoved one of the masters. I am a bad robot. I am a very bad robot. Ha ha.” She drew a breath in through her teeth. “Hoo.” Rainbow crawled to the edge of the bed, looking down at Cloudchaser. “Are… you going to get in trouble for that?” “Oh, most certainly yes, Master.” She let the breath out. “Once for the shove, twice for disobedience, three times for taking presumptions on your behalf. But… well. It was my fault for not locking that door in the first place, wasn’t it?” Rainbow continued to stare. Cloudchaser got up, and rummaged around in a drawer until she found a pair of scissors. “Let me get that tape off your wings. Then we can jump out the window properly. Would you like that?” “I…” Rainbow hesitated. He jaw opened and shut without a sound. Finally, she managed: “O-okay.”