//------------------------------// // The Preliminary Match: What A Stranger Observes // Story: Magical Deathmatch // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// The stranger might have been there, or she might not. Even she was finding it hard to tell these days. All she knew was that she felt constantly wrong, and there’s nothing worse than having a full body aching with uncertainty. So she tried not to focus on it. She’d spent most of her life – or at least, those bits of it she remembered through the ache – knowing what to do. That at least wasn’t hard. Broken bones, delirium, poisons coursing through her blood: she’d forced herself to work through them all. Carefully, she crawled up the shaft. Or at least she sometimes did, and other times phased through it. She hated when that happened. For a blink of a moment, everything went empty. Not dark or anything. Just… empty. As though she had briefly ceased to exist. Anyway, she wasn’t built for thinking, for sitting quietly and asking questions like “What’s it all about when you get down to it, really?” She wasn’t a thinker beyond the next two minutes, which were usually busy enough in her experience. Mostly, she followed her instincts or some inspiration or the script coming through her mind, whatever it was. The universe could handle itself. And she had a job to do. Up ahead was a grille. She heard voices. Someone was complaining about a boiler. When she reached the grille, she peered through and briefly cursed as her existence went on the blink again. This time, it took a while to settle down. Finally, she got a good look beyond. Indeed, there was a boiler. A lot of tools scattered about: plenty of improvised weapons, from a certain point of view. And three ponies. Two unicorns, so possibly telekinetic attackers. They didn’t look like fighters, though. Showponies, maybe. The third was a crystal pony. Instantly, the stranger worried. Crystal ponies were unknown, and the devil about the unknown was that there was no script until she either got captured by one or got into a fight with one. Neither method recommended itself. Even through the crystal pony’s faceted body and bizarrely gem-like eyes, however, she could spot the stiffness and hair-trigger tension of a military pony exercising full self-control. Moreover, she could hear the crystal pony’s breathing. This was a mare going after all the self-control she could get. “These Diamond Bite screens are remarkably simple in design,” said one of the unicorns. “It’s really just a light blaster angled almost flat. We had a proposal for one back in remedial science class, am I right Flim?” “Indeedy so, Flam!” said the other unicorn. “See, the confoundingly clever contraption is all in the little scanning bit. The entire image is just woven from light blasted across the stretchy screen left to right and up and down. What makes it look flawless is how quickly it does it.” “Faster than the eye can see!” “More powerful than the mind can conceive!” “Able to create the most astounding sights!” “Think of all the projections, corrections, illusions, delusions, hallucinations, and simulations you could run ragged round a client! We’d make millions!” “Ahem,” snapped the crystal pony. Despite the boiler crackling away, the temperature of the room sank a few degrees. This was not a voice inclined to warmth. “So you didn’t make the modifications I asked for?” said the crystal pony. “Kid, as an opportunist like me will tell you –” Flim shut up at once; the crystal pony didn’t move, but she sucked all words out of the room through sheer frozen fury. “An opportunist? An opportunist? You oaf! I’ve given you more than enough opportunities to redeem yourself, and you’ve squandered almost every single one.” “But! But! But we make it count when we do!” said Flam hastily. “And! And! And anyone in the business will tell you that you need to know what you’re working with before you work with it.” “Did you redirect the charges,” said the crystal pony with near-explosive patience, “or didn’t you?” Both brothers exchanged grim looks. The stranger waited patiently. Most of the talk meant nothing to her, but sooner or later it’d come back to haunt her, she was sure of it. Besides, the room was so full of detail she couldn’t resist drinking it all in. She could relax here for a while. “Well,” ventured Flim. “No. Not in so many words.” The crystal pony groaned. That groan clearly wanted to stagger around the room muttering darkly to itself, and only the diamond discipline of its owner prevented such a show of emotion. “You told me you were the best inventors,” said the crystal pony coldly. “And we most certainly are!” said Flam, giving a placatory smile. “Miracle medicines, incredible ideas, wondrous devices from your wildest dreams.” “We’re just not working in a conducive environment.” Flim rubbed his chest idly. “Too much… skepticism in the air, if you catch my meaning.” Slowly, as though inspecting the troops, the crystal pony began to step around them, carefully avoiding the benchloads of tools. All without looking away from two suddenly shifty ponies. The stranger heard lips parting, but could only see the back of the crystal pony’s head. “No. No. I see clearly.” Puzzled frowns flickered across the brothers’ faces. “Uh,” said Flam. “You do?” “You are not world-famous. You are not travelling salesponies.” “Now, hold on a moment –” Flim began indignantly. The stranger didn’t see the expression, but she saw the reactions. Flim almost jumped on top of his brother. Flam almost jumped on top of himself. It was quite a display. “Criminals!” spat the crystal pony, and now that her circling brought her face into view, the stranger saw an animal snarl along the muzzle, iron in the eyes, and fire blazing through every twitch of muscle. “Con artists! Snake oil merchants! You think I would not find out eventually? The Southern Crystal Empire has great technology at its disposal. See!” She snapped a hoof to attention. At once, the Diamond Bite on the table rose up and opened. Side-on, the stranger couldn’t see what was playing along the screen. But she heard the gasps of the brothers. “Every misdemeanour you have committed, every victim you have swindled, sooner or later becomes our business. You think we were all arrogant fools like Feldspar who didn’t care much about other countries? About the north? When you ponies so carelessly toss crystals around like glitter? Feh! You are a nation of oafs!” Both brothers stood, jaws wide open, simply absorbing the dance of the lights. “We have watched your every move. We know everything there is to know.” The Diamond Bite closed and fell with a tinkle back onto the bench and then onto the hard crystal floor. Only the crackling of the boiler could be heard. Stiffly, the crystal pony completed her circle. If looks could burn, she’d have gone supernova long ago. Then, the brothers seemed to wake up. “Astounding!” said Flim. “Remarkable!” said Flam. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Flim?” “I think I know what you understand I believe you’re guessing at, Flam!” “Security systems for every home! Vacations captured and never forgotten! Using screens as stand-ins for teachers!” “Not to mention their use in the medical field! The sciences! Dangerous exploration! You could record everything you saw while enjoying the comforts of home!” “We’d be –” A loud stamp shook the tools on the tables. Both of them backed off at once and hit a bench, shaking more. “If you were criminals in my jurisdiction,” whispered the crystal pony, but even her whisper had a small military command to it, “I would arrest you here and now. Regrettably for common decency, you are only criminals outside the Empire. But I warn you, here and now” – she stepped forwards, a slow, deadly march of an executioner – “you try and commit a crime, you will have only one chance at it.” “Uh…” said Flim, blind to potential suicide, “is that one chance each, or jointly?” The march stopped; this speech earned him such a look of utter contempt that he grinned and then gulped. “Now, hold on a second,” said Flam. Both turned to face him. “Aren’t we doing something criminal right now? Aren’t you doing something criminal right now?” The crystal pony put a yard between them and straightened up professionally. “No. I will do my duty to the House of Silicates.” “Right.” Flam coughed. “The plan. Uh huh.” “Officer Feldspar trusts me to maintain order. So I shall.” “Just not in the way she’s thinking?” “What she thinks is immaterial. But she sees in my kind a bunch of craven loyalists. We alone do not need our minds controlled like puppets. We are cut from the same crystal shaft, after all.” Starting to feel cramped in her hidey hole, the stranger skewed her jaw. There was some kind of verbal dance going on here. If so, then it was one with stiletto heels and hidden knives. Not that she was any more at home with metaphors. Not when she’d faced enough real stilettos and knives. Flim stepped around the crystal pony, and – unwisely, judging from the expression this earned him – placed a friendly forelimb around her withers. “And may I just say you’re doing a terrific job,” he said, despite his brother’s frantic hoof signals to not go down this route. “As are we, I think you’ll notice. No one’s found our outpost in Titanium Town, much less the second secret workshop inside, am I right?” “Get your criminal leg off my back, you scum.” Again, the crystal pony made no movement whatsoever. Nonetheless, Flim drew back as though scolded by her touch. “Ten security systems have located it by now,” the crystal pony continued. “It’s useless. I’ve just had to come from the other side of the city to deliver the news to you.” “What!?” Flim shouted. Flam, who the stranger was starting to think had most of the brains, barely widened his eyes in shock. “So… no smuggling victims out anymore?” “Relax. Your philanthropy will remain undimmed,” said the crystal pony in tones making it clear that there were no alternatives, or at least no healthy ones. “Anyway, it may prove unnecessary. Magical Deathmatch begins in full soon enough. Once Feldspar has her reserves stocked up, there’ll be no need for kidnappings until next year.” “Great! Great!” said Flim, but his face was anything but overjoyed. Overshocked, perhaps. “Well, it’s very nice to know we have one less way to be useful to the Empire!” “Yes, so maybe now” – the crystal pony gripped the fallen Diamond Bite in her hooves – “you’ll actually focus on doing what I ask of you!” “If you don’t mind my asking,” said Flam. “What is all this for?” “You know what it’s for, oaf. Tampering with security systems around the Empire is no easy feat. A crystal pony’s touch would be detected immediately. A regular pony’s would not. That makes you –” her lips curled at the word “– useful.” “And if we can’t disable them?” “Disable? You are worse than an oaf! The point is to reroute them, not disable them! A disabled system would be spotted instantly!” “But –” began Flim. Between her hooves, the Diamond Bite shattered. Both brothers watched the pieces tinkle to the ground. “No more excuses.” The crystal pony strode through them, forcing them to sidestep out of the way and approaching the flickering flames of the boiler. This she now stared at. The stranger wriggled. Through the omnipresent ache of uncertainty, she was starting to get cramp. She never thought about things like cramp. Crab monsters patrolling the shafts, yes. Cramps, no. Odd, that. Ever the thinker, Flam tapped his chin in contemplation. “Hm. Lying through lights. Sounds right up our alley.” “It’ll take time,” said Flim, who’d finally caught something he could hold on to. “Twelve security systems is no three-course picnic on a summer day by the beach. It was twelve, right?” “One for each of the major Houses, yes,” said the crystal pony to the fire. Her face was hidden again, but the lonely silhouette surrounded by flames had a power all its own. “Feldspar’s a child, but a paranoid child.” “And what exactly do you want to do once we figure out how to get around… twelve security systems?” said Flim. “Anyway, isn’t it pointless?” said Flam, eager to win brownie points if his furiously nodding head was anything to go by. “After all, we’re part of the underground, right? Well, we know where that road leads.” “When a road leads, you know the world’s gone topsy-turvy.” “Precisely. The road is what you lead on top of.” “You can lead a parade on top of the road. You can lead a caravan.” “You can lead a good life.” “You can lead a pencil.” “You can lead a horse to water. But you can’t make him drink from it.” “Unless you push his head under.” “Or if you have him over a barrel.” “Physically tricky, without the right tools.” “But we could invent some. It’d change the world. It’d rewrite history.” “In short,” said Flim, “it’d be a revolution.” “Very popular in history,” said Flam, elbowing his brother knowingly in the ribs. “The point is,” continued Flim, meeting him nod for nod, “why not just sit back and let history come barrelling down the road that leads to the reinvention of the good life, and then parade the change?” “Rewrite with a pencil!” “Drink the water you’ve been led to!” “And then the underground becomes the overground.” “Turvy-topsy!” “Righto!” “Righted, you mean.” “Precisely!” “Concisely!” They took a bow. They said “Ta-da!” The stranger waited. After a while of deep staring, the crystal pony turned to sneer at them until their pose wilted. “No revolutions,” she said. “But that’s the point, isn’t it?” said Flam. “Who doesn’t like a good, heart-stirring revolution?” “Revolutions are a mess. Those ponies on the street are never fully satisfied. You can appease some of the ponies all of the time. You can appease all of the ponies some of the time. But you can’t appease all of the ponies all of the time. They are unhappy in this dark empire of constant watching. I do not blame them. But I do not trust them any more than I trust Feldspar.” To Flim, Flam muttered, “I think they do things differently here, O brother of mine.” “No,” said the crystal pony. “We need reformation. Not revolution. I’ve had enough of revolutions. They just go round in circles.” Both brothers exchanged looks. Meanwhile, the stranger cocked an ear. Part of her was – academically – utterly riveted by the ideas being tossed around, but she had to shuffle to stop herself getting comfortable. It was just as well the cramps were still there. “Seen a lot, have you?” said Flim. “Centuries’ worth. That is why you will do as I ask, when I ask, no ifs, buts, or howevers.” The crystal pony strode towards the nearest bench and picked up something that could’ve disembowelled a machine, and judging from the crystalline and metal wreckage clearly had done. “I will see the dark Empire end. I have run too far for anything else to be my prize. And I will not be tripped up at the finish line by a couple of oafish swindlers. So,” she continued, and now she pointed the tool at them in a way that made it very clear weaponhood could be arranged, “let me make this clear: if you do anything to endanger this mission, I will ensure that your last days are spent in the arena.” “Now hold on a second!” said Flam, far more bravely than the stranger felt was healthy – and the stranger herself was safely behind a grille and half-not-there, for Pete’s sake – “You can’t turn us over.” “Oh? So now you suddenly grow a conscience? When it’s convenient to you?” “Not that,” said Flim with a smoothness not evident in the way he adjusted his bow tie. “It’s just… how do you know our last few days won’t be spent telling Feldspar who smuggled all the ponies out?” Metal groaned. Teeth bared in pain. Ears and heads shrank down trying to quash the agony of sound as the crystal pony bent the tool into a complete circle and then some. She dropped it with a clatter. “Or perhaps I will end you myself! King of Oafland! What I have to lose is too important! By Titanium’s Truth! At the end of this scheming, someone is going to be history! Don’t let it be you!” The crystal pony then stepped over her dropped metal victim and strode over to the exit. The stranger shuffled slightly to keep her in view. “Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!” spluttered Flam, while Flim swiftly busied himself with a nearby set of white diamonds. “Where are you going?” “On patrol. I have a duty to my House.” “But didn’t you just say with your own home-grown mouth that you were loyal to your House, or something? Isn’t Feldspar from the same House as you?” “Yes, it makes it easier to double-cross her. Why?” Flam’s face was impressed. The stranger wondered if he was taking notes. “Idle curiosity. Not a sin, is it?” “I am loyal to my House. Not to Feldspar.” Yet there was a catch in her voice. Trying to prove too much. The stranger could sense a lie hidden in there. She’d heard plenty of those in her time. Probably too many. Then the door slammed. Flim whistled. “Well,” he said indignantly. “Some ponies just do not appreciate the hard work we put in for them.” “Way of the world, Flim. Way of the world. If there was any justice to it, we’d be sitting pretty by now.” “We’re more standing handsome at the moment, Flam.” “Figure of speech, O brother of mine. Never get your figurative’s mixed up with your literally’s.” “Unless lying’s involved. And lying low, of course, even though we’re as honest as the next pony.” “The next pony’s me, Flim.” “And my next pony’s you, Flam.” “Well, we laid that one to rest.” “We’ll lay more than that to rest soon enough, Flam, don’t you worry. Pass me that discombobulator, would you?” “Only if you pass me that recombobulator.” “Just one question, one puzzler, one poser for you, Flam.” “Pose away, Flim. Puzzle and question away!” “Is there such a thing as a straight-up combobulator?” “Flim, my boy, you let me down.” “Darn straight I do. But I try harder to keep things going up. After all, that is the only way.” Eventually, the stranger tuned their voices out. They just never shut up, even while they hit things and charged things and made other things go sizzle. So what’s the verdict? That crystal pony must be key to whatever’s going down. If her efforts here are at least part of the picture, then maybe I should keep an eye on her movements next. Now, I just need to know why I know this. And why I’m doing all this. And how I’m supposed to do it in a place like this. Twelve security systems!? That’s incredible! Wait a minute… a place like this… with shafts big enough for a pony to crawl down. What kind of twelve systems are we talking about, here? Too much thought. The certainty briefly washed the ache away. So she was on track, at least. Good. What did instinct have to say next? She never thought that far ahead, but the trail was getting warmer. She just knew. Slowly, she began crawling backwards. Then she had another attack of sudden non-existence. After it passed, the stranger groaned. Now this was getting downright embarrassing.