//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 - Twilight Sparkle Gets a Visit // Story: Pony Genius: Twilight Sparkle and the Intertwined Gate // by Kotatsu Neko //------------------------------// Five colored lights fell from the sky, arcing downward to land on a hill overlooking Pferdenburg. Five figures stood on the hill, one stretching expansively. “Man, it’s been a while since we used the infiltration forms. Feels kinda weird.” [[Remember,]] Sturk said, his voice coming from a transmitter held by each of the figures, [[dose ain’t designed for combat. Von bad heet, und hyu ees kaput. So no fonny schtoff.]] “Yeah, yeah.” Rainbow examined her hands critically. “Too pink. You sure I can’t switch to blue?” [[Ho, yas, chost valk eento town all blue und pretty! Dot sounds like de perfect vay to avoid attention.]] “Hey, you don’t get to make fun of me on that! You’re green!” [[Hy em supposed to be green, Miss Shmotty Pony, und Hy’m not de von eenfeeltratink!]] Rainbow sighed. “Fiiiiiine. I’m keeping the hair, though.” “Coloring one’s hair is quite the done thing this season,” Diamond said, already peering into a hand mirror and adjusting her own tresses. “’Skifander style,’ it’s called. Good thing, too. Last season featured ‘big hair’ - really big hair - and I simply do not have the resources on hand to make wigs for everyone or any wheelbarrows to carry them in.” Apple paused in examining her current form, making sure it hadn’t been damaged in the flight down. “Wait just a minute. We’ve been doin’ nothin’ but handlin’ alerts for months. How the heck do you know about-“ She stopped. “That’s why you went missing during that fight in Prague, ain’t it?” “Oh, darling, you all had the situation handled! And one does have to keep up with the trends. So I picked up a few periodicals; what’s wrong with that?” “Of all the-“ “Girls, girls!” Butterfly said, quickly stepping between them. “We have other things to worry about right now, remember?” Apple glowered at Diamond, but nodded. “Yer right.” She turned toward the city in the distance; the other four took position behind her. “Okay, ladies. Somewhere down there is the Spark we need. All we gotta do is find them.” Footsteps racing down a hallway, bare skin on old hardwood. A girl, jet-black hair and wearing nightclothes, panting from exertion, unused to so much activity. A door… She threw it open, ducked inside, then slammed it shut, trying to hold it closed with her shoulderblades. “Spike!” she yelled in a panic. “They found me!” The door had opened into one of the building’s many small towers, and like every other room in the building its walls were lined with bookshelves. This room was two-tiered, with a small curved staircase leading up from the entryway to a larger study above. It showed definite signs of being lived in, with discarded clothes, empty takeout containers, and dirty dishes on most surfaces not occupied by books. A voice drifted down from upstairs. “Did they look in the main library?” “Yes!” “Then that’s how they found you.” “Spiiiiike!” she wailed. “This is serious!” “It really isn’t.” A noise from the hallway made her press her ear against the door, listening intently. “You know,” Spike called, “if you’re that worried you could-“ The girl – well, young woman, really, just out of her teens – recoiled from the door, her pale skin growing even paler. “They’re coming!” she whispered. “Then you should probably lock the-“ “I need to barricade the door!” She ran to a nearby bookcase and pushed her shoulder against it, heaving with all her might. “…okay, but first you should-“ It turned out ‘all her might’ was not enough for her twiggy, pajama-clad limbs to move the bookcase. She stepped back, panting. “I… need to…” She considered, then brightened. “…build a furniture-moving clank!” “What?” She scrambled upstairs and started searching through the shelves. “I need to research the proper leverage ratio!” “You don’t have time for-“ “Aha!” Seizing an old leather-bound tome, she hurried over to a small workbench against one wall. “I need to improve on Gussingham’s Impeccable Rearrangotron!” Her voice had taken on the wild and uneven harmonics of a Spark in mid-invention fugue. As she began to bolt and weld spare parts together, the weary voice of Spike came from the top of a bookcase near the window. “The key is right there…” “I need six meters of copper wiring, three dozen heavyweight springs, twenty kilograms of armor plating, AND A KAZOO!” she declared loudly, her eyes ablaze with inspiration. “SPIKE! GO DOWN TO THE REPOSITORY AND-“ “Twilight!” She blinked, and then the sound of conversation just beyond the door cut through her mania. Twilight hurried over to the banister that overlooked the entryway, realization finally dawning. “But… first…” she said quietly, “…I need to lock the door.” Spike sighed. “Thank you.” And then the madness came back. “SPIKE, GET ME A BOOK ON LOCKSMITHING!” There was a sudden, high-pitched hum, then the tower door was blasted open in a blaze of yellow and green energy. In fact, ‘blasted open’ wasn’t strictly accurate; there was no concussive force, but instead the energy spray converted the solid oak door into a cloud of floating particles. The doorknob fell noiselessly into a pile of sawdust. Three jumpsuit-clad figures entered, stepping over the dustpile. The one in the lead holstered the smoldering pistol she carried, then looked around, smiling wickedly as she saw Twilight. “There you are, Princess. Time’s up.” She reached behind her back and brought out a long, wide rifle festooned with pipes and valves, which she hefted with surprising ease. A segmented tube ran from the butt of the rifle to a large and complicated device on the young woman’s back, partially hidden by a cascade of red and gold hair. “You’re coming with us.” “…it wasn’t even locked…” Spike muttered. “What is wrong with you people?” Twilight backed away from the banister in a panic. “No, no, no!” She dove toward a stack of books on a nearby table. “I Just need a little more time, Sunset! Just… a little…” She started opening the books one by one, leafed through them desperately, then tossed them aside when they proved unsatisfactory. “We’ve given you a whole week, Twi. This is for your own good. Starlight? Trixie?” The other two young women – one pale with purple and green hair, the other well-tanned with white hair tinged blue - stepped forward, and Sunset flicked a switch on her rifle; the device on her back began to hiss and roar. “Get her.” With a shared smirk, they stalked up the stairs and advanced slowly toward Twilight, who moved to keep the table between herself and them. Starlight glanced around at the clothes and dishes scattered about. “My, my. Quite the mess you’ve made here, Miss Sparkle.” “I’ll say,” said Trixie. “Most unbecoming of a Princess.” Twilight abandoned her search of the books and backed away. “C-can’t we talk about this?” “No way,” Starlight said. “We’ve been waiting for this all week.” “And we’ve got big plans for you, Princess,” Trixie added, putting a bit of a sneer into the last word. “But first... let’s get you out of those dirty pajamas.” Twilight stared at her in confusion… then her eyes went wide. “Oh no you don’t! SPIKE! DEFENSE MODE!” There was a pause, then: “...really?” ”NOW!” He sighed. “As you command, my Mistress.” A pair of metal claws gripped the top of the bookcase, and Spike heaved himself over the edge. What landed heavily on the table was a thing that was clearly made of metal, yet moved like a living creature. A bit over a meter tall and half as wide, the original intent had been ‘chubby, cute and cuddly’, or at least as cuddly as a brass-plated lizard could be. Since then, the clank had been repeatedly modified and adjusted to the point where it was impossible to tell where the base model stopped and the changes began. The general impression it gave now was stocky rather than chubby, rakish rather than cute, and decidedly… well, spiky rather than cuddly. Spike the Clockwork Dragon straightened up and crossed his arms, looking between the two young women before him with an expression of bored confidence. This would have been impressive to anyone not familiar with him; most clanks were not designed for much emotional expression, if only because they didn’t have many emotions to express. “Sorry, ladies, but orders are orders. Let’s not make this messy, okay?” Starlight backed up a step. “C-Come on, Spike. You wouldn’t go all aggressive on us, would you?” Spike raised a bronze eyebrow, and with a collection of ratcheting noises panels began to open along Spike’s body. A score of miniaturized weapons unfolded from the panels and quickly oriented themselves, aiming at Starlight. On his shoulders, two larger gun barrels started to glow with an internal flickering light. “Yeah,” he decided, “I kinda think I would.” Starlight backed up another step. “Nice… flamethrowers.” He beamed. “Thanks! Those were my idea.” “Hah!” Trixie said, moving Starlight out of the way. “I was expecting this, Princess.” She drew a metal device from her belt and raised it high. “No mere clank can thwart the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Spike’s weapons tracked onto Trixie and he tensed in anticipation… And then she held the device out to him. “Here you go, Spike. It’s that seven-fifths Peppermill axle you wanted.” His eyes lit up, and not figuratively; they shone a pleasant green. “With the chromed struts?” “With the chromed struts,” Trixie confirmed. “Sweet!” The various weapons retracted and the panels closed. “She’s all yours.” “BETRAYAL!” Twilight snarled in her Spark voice. “Sorry, Twilight,” he said. “A clank’s got needs.” He sat down and opened a hatch on his right hip, reached in, and pulled a similar (but not quite as shiny) part from his inner workings. The new part swiftly took its place, and he closed the hatch; a moment later, a look of contentment crossed his face. “Aw, yeah. That’s the stuff.” “Nice job,” Starlight said to Trixie, who just winked. The two stepped forward, each walking around the table on opposite sides to close off any avenue of escape, until they stood over their prey. “Now then, Twilight. Any last words before we move on to...” She paused dramatically. “...the main event?” “I don’t have time for all this,” Twilight moaned. “I only have three more days-” “It’s Friday.” Panic danced in Twilight’s eyes. “Two more days to-” “And the library’s closed on Sunday.” The panic was doing a rather risque tango with desperation now. “Which is why I can’t let you interrupt me!” “Too bad!” Starlight posed theatrically. “You belong to us now! We’re gonna dress you up..” “No!” “...take you out for a night on the town...” “No!” “And we’re all gonna get stupidly drunk!” ”YOU FIENDS!” On the table, Spike briefly inspected the part he’d removed, then ate it. “Y’know,” he said with his mouth full, “if you’re losing days, they’ve probably got a point.” She glowered at him… then sighed. “Okay… you’re right.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a break.” The two young women glanced at each other. “Sure,” Trixie said in a cautious tone of voice, watching Twilight closely. “I mean, staying cooped up in here won’t get me past that wall, will it? And a night out sounds like a lot of fun!” “Uh-huh.” “Soooo… why don’t you just let me get dressed – on my own, thank you – and I’ll meet you outside?” And she smiled, just the tiniest bit wider than she should have. Starlight’s expression softened, and she stepped forward to put a hand on Twilight’s cheek. “Oh, Twilight. I’m so very proud of you.” “Thanks, Sta-” She stopped. “Wait. Proud?” “Uh-huh. I mean, that lie was almost believable! You used to be so terrible at deception. You’ve come so far!” She wiped away an imaginary tear, then glanced to her side. “Trixie?” “You get the top, I’ll get the bottom.” “As always.” Down in the entryway, Sunset carefully adjusted various knobs and levers on her weapon, watching a series of lights carefully. The abrupt sounds of struggle upstairs failed to distract her. “Come on… come… onnnnn…” Finally, the lights turned on with a solid, unwavering green light. “Yes!” She looked up. “I’m all ready down here! Send her over!” Her response came as a peal of laughter. “S-stop it! That tickles!” “Working on it!” Starlight shouted. “She’s wriggly!” There was a thump, followed by what sounded like a clatter of falling cardboard containers. “Ew. You’d better up the power, Sunset,” Trixie called. “She’s been ordering the Van Helsing Special from Callobene’s Takeaway.” “Roger, calibrating for extra garlic!” Sunset made a few more adjustments. There was a shriek of outrage. “Got the bottom!” Trixie announced triumphantly. “Her complete lack of hips spelled her doom!” “I DO SO HAVE- eek!” The pajama top came floating over the banister and down to the floor. “Okay, grab her legs! And lift! One… two… THREE!” Twilight’s nude form came sailing over the edge… …and was met by a sustained blast from Sunset’s rifle, which made a sound much like ‘SHWOOOSHFWAAAAAAAAAfloomph’, only louder. Her forward momentum countered, Twilight dropped straight down onto a couch, bouncing twice. And she was clean. More than that, she was clean. Every inch of skin had been scrubbed pink, her hair had been shampoo’d and conditioned, and the grime under her fingernails had been exhumed. The ‘weapon’ had even wrapped her in a warm, fluffy towel with fresh-from-the-drier softness. The incredible torrent of water had somehow left little evidence of its existence except for a few damp patches on the walls and ceiling, and those were quickly drying. “Yes!” Sunset pumped her fist. “Total coverage in less than three seconds, the hyper-evaporation additive is working flawlessly, and your hair is only slightly on fire! Pretty good for a first field test.” Her unwilling test subject sat up and shook her head to clear it. “The hygiene cannon? Really?” Twilight absently licked her fingers and pinched out the small flame near her ear. “I can wash myself, you know.” “You’ve been in here all week,” Sunset countered with a teasing grin. “I didn’t want to take chances.” “Wise choice,” Starlight called. “This place is ripe.” “Nobody invited you up there, Starlight Glimmer!” Twilight shot back, blushing with embarrassment. Sunset chuckled and reattached the rifle to the device on her back. “Thanks for the help, guys. I’ll take it from here.” Trixie came to the banister. “The Dapper Device. One hour.” “We’ll be there.” Upstairs, Starlight headed toward the window, but paused. “Spike, you… you wouldn’t have really opened fire… would you?” He laughed. “Nah, I knew you guys were just foolin’ around.” “Right! Right. That’s a relief.” “Though, of course, if Twilight had given the word,” Spike continued thoughtfully, “you would’ve been toast.” “Uh… right.” One of Spike’s flamethrowers emerged from its panel, and he patted it fondly. “I mean, these bad boys can do some serious damage! And I’ve been itching to try them out on something other than Twilight’s trash.” He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, not that I would’ve wanted to use them on you.” Starlight was looking rather pale. “Of… of course.” “So it’s great that you’re all such good friends! And I’m sure Twilight doesn’t really mind things like, y’know, tearing her clothes off." He considered. "Or maybe she does? Heh. What do I know, right? I'm just a clank. Human stuff is kinda weird to me.” Another hatch opened, and Spike extracted a small tin of metal polish. He applied it to the gun on his shoulder, humming a happy little tune. Long seconds passed during which the only sound was Spike’s humming, then Starlight edged toward the railing. “Hey… Twi? First round of drinks is on me, okay?” “Huh? Oh… okay. Thanks, Star.” “No problem.” With a brief, worried glance at Spike, Starlight crossed the room and opened the window, then hopped up on the sill. She reached out a hand to Trixie. “Come, my dear,” she said in a theatrical voice, silhouetted by the rays of the setting sun, “let us away!” Trixie took her hand and joined her, wrapping her arm around the other’s waist perhaps a bit more tightly than necessary. “Oh, Starlight Glimmer! Rescue me from this awful den of iniquity,” she pleaded in an equally dramatic tone, then grinned. “There are much better dens of iniquity to visit out there.” With a grin of her own, Starlight held her close – perhaps a bit more closely than necessary – and pointed her other arm toward the sky. She flexed her wrist, and a device on her forearm was launched upwards, trailing a tether cable. At about forty meters up, it unfolded into a giant kite, which whisked the two young women toward the Academy’s dormitory. Back in the entryway, Sunset removed the weapon on her back, then sat down next to Twilight. “Sooo… still haven’t come up with anything, then?” “No!” Twilight buried her face in her hands. “I mean, I’ve come up with a lot of ideas, but none of them feel right.” “You’re way overthinking this, Twi. It’s just your midterm thesis project; it doesn’t have to be anything earthshattering. I know they give us all of Mint Appreciation Week to do this, but that’s really just an excuse for the professors to take a yearly sabbatical. Just pick something, make a few sketches, and turn it in on Monday like everyone else. You’ll still have a whole month to actually build whatever it is.” “I know, I know, but… I feel like I should do more, you know? Apart from Spike, none of my inventions have ever been… exciting.” Sunset smiled and bumped her friend with her shoulder. “Hey, I liked those self-tying shoelaces.” “I… did get an award for advancing the aglet sciences with those,” Twilight acknowledged bashfully. “But this project is going in front of the Academy review board. I want to do something big! Like, really big!” “Fair enough. But you didn’t have to hide yourself away in the library all week.” Twilight shrugged. “I didn’t want any distractions. I knew everyone else was going to avoid this place after they picked their project, so I could… um...” “...slob around for the rest of the week in your pajamas?” “...maybe.” “And look where that got you.” Sunset shook her head fondly. “You could’ve accomplished the same thing back in our dorm room, and gotten to sleep in an actual bed, eaten actual meals instead of high-carb takeout food...” She paused, then leaned in, her hand grazing the top of Twilight’s towel-covered thigh. “Taken an actual shower,” she murmured. Twilight blushed in happy remembrance, biting her bottom lip. “I… do like showers,” she admitted. “But you know Star and Trixie would have dragged us out to go clubbing every night.” “That’s a fair point. Mainly because that's exactly what they did to me.” "Why you don't just pick me for your project?" Spike climbed up onto the couch next to Twilight. "I mean, I am pretty awesome." Sunset casually drew back to her own side. With a smile, Twilight rubbed Spike's head fondly. "Oh, Spike. You really are amazing. Everyone says they've never seen a clank as complex as you, especially since you were my very first creation." "That you made when you were twelve," he reminded her. "That's super early!" "But I have to come up with something brand new for my project," she continued. "Besides, they may want to take apart anything I make to check my work." Spike made a face. "Never mind, then. Nobody gets to open me up but you." "Aw, that's so sweet!" She scratched behind his cranial plating, and he leaned into it. Sunset stood up. "Well, I should probably go get changed," she said. "Do you need me to bring you an outfit?" "No, I had a feeling this might happen and came prepared." Twilight gave her friend a sour look. "I wasn't expecting to get a high-velocity scrubbing, though." "Wasn't it great?!" Sunset said, completely missing the sarcasm in her excitement. "I have to get your feedback. How did the primary exfoliation agent feel? Did it tingle? Was it too tingly? Not tingly enough?!" "Sunset!" She composed herself. "Sorry. So... Dapper Device. One hour." Sunset glanced at Twilight. "Promise?" Twilight gave her a weak smile. "Promise." "See you there!" Once Sunset had left, Twilight sighed and closed her eyes. Though she was reluctant to be pulled away from searching the library for ideas, the thought of getting away from this place was starting to have an appeal. She hadn't seen a single human being since early Monday; the library's clank staff, the bibliomechs, had shown her how to find the books she needed, and Spike had gotten her food from the nearby restaurants and Academy commissary. She'd pored over old technical journals and treatises from Sparks both living and dead, in almost every field of scientific knowledge. Her head was buzzing with half-formed, fragmented ideas that, for the life of her, she couldn't develop into something useful. Adding alcohol to the mix didn't seem like it would help, but it was a tempting experiment. "Maybe she's right," she said aloud. "Maybe I am overthinking this." "Maybe," Spike replied. "But I know you, Twilight. You wouldn't be happy turning in a project you didn't really care about. I just know you're gonna come up with something amazing!" She rubbed his head again, then stood up, heading upstairs to change. "Thanks, Spike. And I hope you're right. I just don't know how I'm going to find it out there when I couldn't find it in here." Below the city, in a forgotten room, on a wall illuminated by electric lights that have never gone out, there is a door that is not a door. At least, not currently; at the moment, and at first glance, it looks like a painting. Roughly bell-shaped, outlined by a thick green band, it portrays a cross section of some large device, the parts intricately detailed and painted. Then the eye starts to catch on, and notices that the parts are slightly raised from the wall they're 'painted' on. Watch it for long enough, and the observer starts to realize that the parts are moving, albeit with glacial slowness. They leave no trace behind as they move, and cause no abrasion on the wall even though they've been doing this for decades. Its inner workings endlessly turning and sliding, the door is... idle. Then the hypothetical observer notices the faint, slightly clingy energy around the door, as though any body part that draws close to it becomes wrapped in an invisible rubber glove. There is fierce and raw potentiality there, and a different word comes to mind. Below the city, in a forgotten room, on a wall illuminated by electric lights that have never gone out, the Intertwined Gate is waiting. And it will not have to wait much longer.