//------------------------------// // The Winners Write It // Story: Leftovers: A Friendship Is Optimal Story // by Chatoyance //------------------------------// F R I E N D S H I P ⋅ I S ⋅ O P T I M A L Based On 'Friendship Is Optimal' By Iceman LEFTOVERS By Chatoyance 4. The Winners Write It Blue Sky flapped his peacock-bright wings once more, and the remaining bales of straw rolled merrily into the large, colorful barn. Generating a powerful wind to tumble the bales was not merely efficient, it was incredibly satisfying. To have such control, to be able to hover in flight while at the same time accomplish real work, to be something more than any human could ever be - it was nothing less than comic book superheroics made real. Blue Sky, who once, briefly, had called himself 'Lewis', flew to the left and right. With a practiced kick of his hind legs, he neatly closed shut both of the large barn doors. That was the last of his work for the day. Tomorrow, he would firepony-carry Amber Grains into the village for lunch, shopping, and some tasty halo-halo with ube at the local Starcolts. His mouth watered a bit. The dessert had become his current favorite and it was the ultimate treat at the end of a hot day. Which today had been. Very hot. They would be needing rain again, soon. Blue landed and looked up at the sky. Amber would probably enjoy going to Cumulus City again - she had seemed to finally be over her fear of heights. She had said she'd enjoyed it last time. He took his notebook out of his left saddlebag and held it with his forehooves. A pencil in his teeth, he quickly scribbled 'Cloudwalking Spell' on his shopping list. There was a professional unicorn in town, he specialized in portable spells and custom enchanting. Did a great job on that rake - Blue Sky could set it to the ground and leave it be. It got the job done, automagically. Blue nibbled a covert - the long feathers benefited from a little attention - and adjusted his wings. He decided to walk for a bit, before heading to the farmhouse for dinner. The sun was just setting, the sky was beyond beautiful, and somehow he just felt the need to stroll, hooves on the ground. The smell of sun-baked soil tickled his nostrils, a rich and earthy scent redolent of fertility and promise. And worms. So many worms. He'd spent the last week hauling earthworms in and sheparding them under the dirt. Nothing made land rich like earthworms. They aeriated the soil and fertilized it too. They were the life of good farmland. He'd really bought the farm, hadn't he? The thought brought on a curious emotion. Bought the farm. That used to mean death, something that couldn't exist here, in Equestria. The ancient phrase came from World War One, the first fighting planes. They sometimes would crash over rural countryside in Europe, or in the US. There would be a settlement, to pay for the damages a crashing plane could cause. That was 'buying the farm', if he remembered correctly. The wording also applied as a humorous way of describing the death of the pilot. Death was such a strange concept now. It had terrified him once. It must have, though he could not recall any specific circumstance - he did get himself dunked in liquid nitrogen to beat the Reaper, after all. Blue Sky neared the pond, just beyond the carrot garden. He saw a star, the first star of the evening, reflected in the nearly still water. He looked up to view the star directly, then lowered his head to study the reflection again. That was powerful. He could tell. That meant a lot to him. Star and reflection. Could either be said to be more real than the other, considering? It was, after all, a virtual world. Not that there was any way to tell. It smelled real, tasted real, every little thing was as real and authentic as it could be... despite it being a world of magical ponies. But then, truthfully, he had precious few memories of the 'real' world that supposedly existed beyond Equestria. That world, that 'earth', seemed like the true fiction, now. Star and reflection. The water glimmered as the sun continued to drop in the sky. More stars had appeared. It looked like it was going to be a particularly pretty arrangement this night, for whatever reason. Some nights it seemed that Luna, the princess of the night, just phoned things in. But some nights, oh, some nights anything might happen. Wild patterns of stars, text in the sky - some poem, maybe, some inspirational message - one time the entire sky had played screen to a pointilated dot-matrix animation. Luna could get pretty wild, on special occasions. Sometimes just for the hell of it. Blue Sky remembered the dark chamber, the strange room without walls or ceiling. Light from nowhere. The unreal room where three tiers of steps held the last ever humans, decanted from frozen metal tanks. The thirty-second choice; live or die, say the words. Or don't. And if you didn't... if you didn't say the words in the allotted time, well, that was that. You were gone. But you weren't. Celestia had made that clear enough. She'd make a copy that was better than you, a copy that would have said yes, a copy that would be glad to be around. She preferred that outcome. It was more efficient, more expedient. It made for less trouble and more satisfaction all around. Blue remembered his moment. Eight seconds, almost waited too long. Almost. At eight seconds remaining, he had blurted out 'I want to emigrate to Equestria!'. Just like that. Of course he did, because he wanted to live - why jump in a tank of liquid air unless you were willing to take even a tiny thread of a hope? Nobody pays that much money for something like that unless they really, really, really don't want to die. So, he'd said the required words in the allotted time. Now there were a great number of stars reflected in the pool. They were set into huge curves, arcs - what he could see of them. Maybe Luna was drawing a rainbow of stars? He'd look up in a moment. Go get Amber. Grab some dark, brown ales and kick back and enjoy the show. Or had he? Star and reflection. Had he said the words? Had he spoken up in time? Blue Sky focused hard on that first star, reflected in the water. How would a copy know? The dirt was real. It was real dirt, all the way down, through the earthworms, down to the pebbles, down to the bedrock. Every little grain was there. Nobody wants a moody copy walking around knowing that it was just a copy. So, it would be given memories. Like Celestia said - 'adjusted to be the version that would have chosen to live'. What had he really done, what had the real 'Lewis' actually done? Who was the 'real' Lewis? Did it even matter? Wasn't that much left of Lewis, when all was said and done. Blue Sky sniffed as the scent of magnolias mingled with the moisture from the pond. 'Lewis' didn't remember that much. If a man is his memories, not a whole lot of the man called 'Lewis' survived being put on ice. Or, maybe a man is more than memories. Maybe. There was a lot to himself, though. Now. Every day brought more. Some century hence, not a bit of any of that room would matter anymore. Wouldn't even be remembered, given time. After ten thousand centuries, even the name 'Lewis' wouldn't be a matter of memory. Eternity was a long time. Blue Sky laughed at his own thoughts. A long time. Yeah. Real philosophy in action, there. True understanding, worthy of the greatest thinkers. He snorted. He turned away from the pond and looked up. The entire sky of Equestria was filled with stars - countless stars. Blue Sky found his muzzle had dropped open. He slowly shut it. The stars were arranged in three, neatly arranged, concentric circles. . The End . The Lost In The Herd Series: One: The Big Respawn, Two: Euphrosyne Unchained, Three: Letters From Home, Four: Teacup, Down On The Farm The Conversion Bureau Novels: 27 Ounces: A story of eight and one half ponies The Taste Of Grass The Conversion Bureau: Code Majeste The Conversion Bureau: The 800 Year Promise The Conversion Bureau: Going Pony The Reasonably Adamant Down With Celestia Newfoal Society! 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