“I assume… you’ve already done everything you can for her. Medically, I mean,” Melody whispered, as she walked into Martin’s lab. She felt sheets of paper crunching under her hooves, covering almost every inch of floor space. Whatever Martin had done, she had been excited about it.
“Naturally,” said one of the drones ahead of her, the plain white plastic ones that looked a little like mannequins. They looked far less “human” than the single synthsleeve that Forerunner had copied something like his own mind into. “I know your medical knowledge is inadequate. Even Dr. Born would be little use in this case, I’m afraid.”
“Then why am I here?” Melody asked, walking slowly as she approached Martin. The scientist didn’t seem to see her so much as she’d seen the motion of the door. Her eyes followed nothing, and she seemed to focus on other points in the room entirely at random. “To… comfort her?”
As she said that, Martin straightened again. “Cover your heads! Don’t try to watch, just keep moving! We have to make it to the Datamine!” Light seemed to glow up from around her—from her forehead, her wings, her cutie mark. Her cutie mark changed, there was another flash, and lightning streaked out from around her, burning straight through the pillows and blankets and leaving them still smoldering.
One of the orderly robots helpfully extended a canister, blasting the area around Martin with white foam.
Datamine? That word pierced the confusion. The Datamine was where her clone had gone with Flurry Heart, wasn’t it?
“That would be a desirable outcome,” Forerunner said. “But ultimately I expect the phantom sensations to pass. I disconnected her from the data as soon as it became clear she was having an adverse reaction. It appears she is continuing to experience the recording even after I terminated contact. I do not understand why.”
“What about…” Melody edged closer cautiously, trying to get close enough to inspect the patterns burned into the floor. They looked like they might be words in Eglathrin, or at least might have the language incorporated in their design. Unfortunately, she was the wrong clone to be reading them. “What’s going on with her… we don’t have ass implants, do we?”
“You do not,” the Forerunner said. “Beyond the standard muscle augmentation and skeletal graft. If you’re asking what is producing that glow, I cannot provide a satisfactory answer. I believe ‘magic’ is the native term.”
“That is unhelpful.” Melody waved one of her hooves. “Hey, Martin. Can you hear me in there? Paging Dr. Faraday, you have a patient waiting.”
“She wasn’t a medical doctor,” said a white drone, without a hint of irony in its tone.
Melody wasn’t that surprised to see Martin turn to face her again. Her cutie mark flashed several times, before eventually settling on her own Fibonacci spiral mark. The glazed look began to fade from her eyes, and she pulled her legs in close, rocking slowly back and forth. “Melody,” she said, sounding broken. “I can hear their screams, Melody. They tried to… God, the flames… Do you think that’s what happened to Earth?”
Martin’s cutie mark flashed and sparked one last time, but it didn’t change.
Melody settled down on her haunches beside the shivering astronomer. “I know the others are off risking their lives, but you shouldn’t have done this alone. I think even Dorothy would’ve wanted to be here.”
Martin didn’t answer for a long time. Her eyes still seemed to have trouble focusing. “There were humans on Sanctuary. We thought… but how couldn’t there be. Forerunner program wasn’t just looking for planets! There are billions of rocks out there to choose from! We wanted to seek out new life, new civilizations! What’s more interesting than a Niven Ring?”
Martin sat up, shoving past Melody towards the door. “I have to warn them! They’re going to bring Harmony down on all of us! We’ll be trapped here like they are, banging on the walls of a silicon prison! We have to warn them Harmony kn—”
Time itself seemed to slow. Melody saw a flash, as though something inside Martin’s chest had started glowing. She couldn’t tell what it was—she couldn’t react nearly fast enough for that.
But Forerunner could. Every single one of the medical robots jumped on top of Melody, shoving her backward behind a desk and covering up as much of her as they could. She barely had the time to feel the impact before an explosion shook through the room, causing excruciating pain in her ears and breaking the world into an endless ringing agony.
Melody screamed, though she couldn’t hear her own voice as she did so. The room smelled awful—like overcooked steak. She felt herself move—a stretcher slipped under her, and orderly robots lifted her in their hands.
There was a crater in the front of the room, where Martin had been standing. There was an opening down into fabrication below. There was no trace of Martin at all besides the patterns burned into every surface in the lab.
The pain and shock were too intense—she slumped to one side, unconscious.
“When we talked over the radio, you said something about a map. The one that led Flurry Heart and me to the ruins, I think. That wouldn’t happen to be this map, would it?”
Princess Twilight Sparkle took a long time to answer. She’d had quite the emotional beating over the last hour—they had been beaten together for some parts of it.
Whatever our plan is, we have to give her some time to recover first. She looks like she might collapse.
“It wasn’t, but it is now,” she muttered, unhelpfully. “It mostly shows us where to go for friendship problems.”
Lucky looked past her to the map. When she spoke, it was in Eglathrin, clear enough that Twilight gasped. “Location of Primary Datamine,” she announced. If this is anything like the map in the Transit Hub…
The map reacted instantly, zooming out from the surface of Equestria until it displayed the entire Equus ring. It didn’t immediately focus on the Datamine, though. Instead, a voice came from the table, reverberating from the crystal of the room all around them. “Citizen permissions required for data access.”
The table in front of Lucky faded to a dull gray, though in front of Twilight it remained just as bright.
Twilight’s mouth opened and closed several times before she formed coherent words. “H-how do you know how to speak the forbidden language?”
“Equus taught me, while I was with Flurry Heart. Didn’t she tell you that?”
“I…” Twilight’s voice got very small. “I haven’t seen her since she got back. Princess Celestia wouldn’t let anyone see her. Except Luna. Cadance tries to talk to her through the door, but…”
“Pathetic,” Lightning Dust said. “But we’ll deal with it. Won’t we, squirt?”
“Somehow,” Lucky agreed. “Can you speak Eglathrin, Twilight?”
“I…” She sighed. “Not very much. No matter how much I studied, I could never get it to stick. Lately there’s been other things to think about.”
“Disregard instruction,” Lucky said to the table, speaking clearly again. It returned to the bright, even map of Equestria. “Location of Harmony Control.” Same effect—the map zoomed out, and the voice came on with the same imperative.
“I think it… I think it wants your permission,” Lucky said. “It won’t show me where we need to go without your approval.” Hopefully Twilight had citizen access. Is it all Alicorns, or just some? Flurry Heart had been able to access systems in the transit hub Lucky couldn’t, even if she was the one who could understand what they said.
“Go ahead,” Twilight said, not even looking up at the map. “Show her what she wants to see.”
Lucky didn’t expect a response, but to her surprise one came anyway. The table flashed. “Command registered with credentials of citizen Twilight Sparkle.”
The map zoomed back in, color returning as it did so. Lucky despaired at first, as the view looked much the same. Equestria again? Did that mean that the thing she wanted didn’t exist?
But the view kept zooming in, directly on the center of the map. Canterlot filled the entire table, its buildings displayed in vivid detail. She could even see ponies flying, and a few cloud houses tethered to the city with long, thin lines between them.
It kept zooming in, towards the massive palace set into the stones. Through the walls, like they weren’t even there. Through a thick vaulted door with glowing runes set into it not unlike the ones Flurry Heart had helped her unlock.
“Canterlot Tower?” Something had broken Twilight from her stupor again, because she watched the map with the same intensity Lucky did. “I haven’t been in there since Discord escaped his prison the first time. Princess Celestia thought the Elements of Harmony were… in… there…” She trailed off, eyes widening. “Oh.”
Down a spiral staircase, there was a massive metallic archway, made of the strange unidentifiable substance they had seen in Transit. The whole facility was already lit, its planters well-maintained and water running in its fountains.
There were ponies down here, though not many of them. They wandered through the space with a constant, fearful look on their faces, avoiding every wall and every surface. There was tons of pony furniture down here, as though hastily dragged in from the world above. None of the actual machines seemed in use, and many (such as the map) had barriers around them to prevent ponies from accidentally getting too close. The ponies look like cavemen squatting in a skyscraper.
Most of the space in the massive atrium was empty, but a single office was lit. Lucky Break felt her breath catch in her chest as she saw the unicorn sitting behind an awkward wooden desk in the center of the office. She had seen this pony once before, in a Stormshire hospital room.
“Her,” Lightning Dust muttered, anger boiling in her voice.
“Moondancer?” Twilight said, mostly to herself.
The pony jolted up from her seat, moving almost as fast as Lucky just had. Her voice was panicked, afraid. “Twilight?”
The image faded moments later.
Shit, did she hear us?
“I guess I shouldn’t be… that surprised,” Lucky Break said, as the map zoomed back out to return to the image of Equestria from above. “The other civilization I visited had its capital built on one of the ring facilities. Come to think of it, that’s kinda what the Crystal Empire did too.”
She turned away from the map, glaring out the window the same way Twilight had been looking during their last conversation. She could barely make out the suggestion of a distant city on the mountain there, though it might just be in her imagination. “I was really hoping it would be out in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure Perez would love to fight through Canterlot Castle to get to the tower…”
To her surprise, Princess Twilight still seemed to be listening, because she spoke up from behind her. “Didn’t you tell me you and Flurry Heart rode from one part of the ruins to a completely different part? If we do that, no more ponies have to get hurt. Not that… I could walk right into the castle easily. But I’ve never tried going back into the tower. I’m guessing they’d try to stop me. The runes on the door might even stop me on their own, I didn’t get the chance to read them.”
Lucky felt a smile spreading across her lips. “Princess, that sounds like a perfect plan.
Where had this sudden supply of resolve come from? Even as she watched, Twilight rose to her hooves. “Spike, pack supplies for both of us. We’re going to the Crystal Empire.”
“Not… quite what I was expecting,” Olivia said, as the crowd began to disperse around them. She kept her voice down anyway. The alien creature Discord had done very little to inspire her confidence, but Pear Butter was different. She just looked like the sort of pony that could be trusted.
“You mean the Eternal Herd?” Pear Butter asked, rolling her eyes a little. “Ponies stampeding around an infinite field of friendship and love?”
“Uh…” Olivia shook her head. “Not quite.” She sat on her haunches in the square, scanning it from all directions. Nothing seemed particularly divine or eternal about any of it—the primitive village might as well be Ponyville, or any other Equestrian settlement.
“I guess I always thought… dunno, maybe God would be here? A chorus of angels would be singing… harps on clouds? I don’t see harps on clouds anywhere.”
Pear Butter grinned. “I know a pegasus who can play the harp. We could go see him, see if he’ll play for you.”
Olivia couldn’t help herself—she laughed. Maybe this wasn’t what she had been expecting from the afterlife, but the important part was still there. Success or failure was out of her hands now, or so it seemed.
“I don’t think I need it. I wasn’t much for religion, so it doesn’t really bother me that it was wrong about something. Maybe you can explain what’s really going on? I am dead, right?”
“Why don’t you come with me, sugarcube. I can give you the tour… as much as we understand it. You’ll have to be a smart one if you want to wrap your head around everything, though.”
“I don’t need to understand everything. But it would be nice to know where this is. If it isn’t heaven…”
They didn’t have to walk very far. A strange bit of hexagonal metal was on the ground near a street corner. A raised metallic surface was in front of it, with something like a keyboard set into it. The keys were raised hexagons arranged in circles about the size of a hoof.
Pear Butter stepped up onto the marked metal plate, moving to one side so there was room for Olivia to follow. She did, watching as Pear Butter rested one hoof on the keyboard, then rocked it in all directions, pressing a sequence of a dozen keys with practiced ease. “You must do this a lot.”
“Whenever Discord has somepony he wants to tuck away,” she answered, lifting her other hoof to the keyboard and adding a few more symbols to the sequence. With each press, symbols on the ground began to light up. “It’s easier than letting them get lost in the slide. Given the choice, most ponies end up drifting away after one lifetime. Too much exposure to what’s up there, and… well, you don’t want to come back.”
“Up…” Olivia already knew where to look. This was the alien part of this place, the one suggestion that she was standing somewhere impossible. This village looked to be on a lower slope of an infinitely wide, gradual mountain, topped with a city that went on forever. She could not see much of that forever, since the buildings obscured it.
But ahead of her, she could see further. Structures that grew taller, their outlines only bare suggestions at this distance. Some looked vaguely like skyscrapers, but many were in much stranger shapes. “Up there?”
“Yes,” Pear Butter said. “You might leave too. Just because Discord likes you doesn’t mean you can resist Harmony’s tricks.”
There was a flash, and suddenly they were somewhere else. There was no discomfort, as there had been when she’d been brought out of the castle. It was just a change of scenery.
The endless city was gone, though they were still on a mountain slope. They were standing at the base of a stone monastery, framed by snowy peaks in the distance. Olivia could faintly hear the sound of music from inside. “If Discord had left me here, I might’ve believed I was in heaven.” She gestured with a wing. “This was more what I was expecting. Well, this, and looking like me.”
She sighed, ears flattening a little. “Can’t being dead at least give me some dignity?”
“I don’t understand.” Pear Butter stepped down from the polished metal plate, onto a cobblestone path leading towards the monastery. “What’s wrong with how you look?”
“I’m the wrong species!” she practically shouted, rearing up onto her hind legs. She flapped her wings, trying to keep herself in a bipedal position as long as she could. But that didn’t seem to help. Not only that, but she seemed to have lost her implants, because she couldn’t stand up for more than a few seconds before falling back onto four hooves.
“The wrong… species?” If Olivia had expected shock from Pear Butter, she didn’t get it. Only confusion. “Your Qualia always uses your last body as a model, I think. Did something… go wrong? Are you a griffon, or maybe a changeling?”
“I’m human,” she said. “I don’t even know how we’re able to talk right now. My Eoch was grade school at best. Right now, I should be walking around on two legs, taller than anyone here. Uh… no fur, no cutie mark…”
Pear Butter chuckled. “Well now I know something must be wrong with your memory. Whatever you were must’ve had a system registration, or you really would be with the Eternal Herd right now, instead of safe here.” She turned back to the monastery, gesturing again. “Come on then, Olivia. Maybe we can find what a ‘human’ is in the database.”
There was no sense resisting someone who wanted to help. Pear Butter was not the source of her frustration. If dying and ending up here left me a pony, does that mean poor Karl is still a woman too?
“Oh, and one more thing—can you help me find someone? A… friend… of mine died a few months ago. I would like to see her again.”
“Sure!” Pear Butter pushed the door open with one hoof. “But this is so much all at once, Olivia. Can we split this up? Let’s visit the temple first, then we can see about finding you a database to look up any of your friends. If I don’t know how to help, I’m right sure my husband can.”
“Thanks,” Olivia said, following reluctantly behind. What was she so nervous about, anyway? She was already dead, and so was Karl. A few more minutes to go through things the way this pony wanted wouldn’t make it worse.
Still, she let herself hope. She said we could change how I look. I could be human again. She put aside questions of where the other races were, along with many others. She would have plenty of time for that.
“I know this might be a little borin’ for you,” Pear Butter said, almost as though she was reading her thoughts. “You’ve got concerns, and I rightly understand that. Ponies you care about back in Equestria. Well, I do too. Most of us do, that’s why we’re here.”
They stepped into the monastery. As they did, the sound of singing abruptly vanished, with no trace of a source. Most of it looked fairly primitive, what she would’ve expected for the exterior. But there were sheets of glass set into the ground at regular intervals, obvious screens, and another plate of metal similar to the one they’d just stepped on. This one didn’t have a keyboard though, just a single button.
Then she looked up. The ceiling was adorned with thousands of levitating crystals, each one glowing a slightly different shade. They seemed to almost breathe as they walked into the single gigantic room. Was it Olivia’s imagination, or had they taken on her yellow and blue color, along with the peach shades of Pear Butter?
“Well, first few questions first. I’m sorry if ya have some of this figured already… we get a lot a dead ponies through here, and you can never quite be sure what they know. It’ll be easier if you just let me get the whole thing out in one go.”
“Alright,” Olivia said. “Just so long as you answer my questions after.”
“Right.”
Pear Butter led her slowly through the eerily silent monastery. Well, not quite silent. Their own hoofsteps echoed loudly with each step, and open windows somewhere above them seemed to lead to wind chimes somewhere. They filled the whole room with an eerie tinkling that echoed strangely from the sheets of glass, seeming to move as they walked.
“So, a right long time ago, ponies used to live and die, kinda how you expect. But they thought that was a rotten way to do things, so they came up with some magic. How it works ain’t important, but the important thing is that it makes it so anypony who’s connected to Harmony ends up here when their body stops workin’.”
“I think I figured that part out,” Olivia muttered. Even she was at least a little curious about how it worked, though she never would’ve admitted as much to any of her own ponies. Thank God none of them are here now. I wonder if you gave Karl this same lecture.
“Well, think of the afterlife as the biggest kingdom ever. Time don’t work the same way in here as it does out there—when Discord said it was only a few days, that’s a right long time. More an’ more the further ya go, but… I’m getting ahead of myself.
“The real point is, ponies… and other critters too, not just us. Anythin’ with a connection to Harmony. So… a bird wouldn’t, but a cow would, and… now I’m gettin’ ahead of myself again.” She stopped in front of the metal plate, blocking the way so Olivia couldn’t climb onto it. Not that she would have.
“It means that even though the life you just came from seems mighty important to ‘ya, it’s actually not the first one ‘ya had. Probably you’ve had more lives than the number of ponies living in Equestria. You’ve been things you couldn’t even dream of. You’ve been all kinds of ponies—good, bad, ugly… well, probably not too many bad.
“But probably some. The real point of all this, is that you’ve been living a real long time. The friends you had in Equestria are real, but… that’s about it. Everythin’ else there just don’t matter as much as ya think.”
She stepped up onto the little metal plate. As she did so, thousands of images appeared in the glass screens moving through the room. Many nearest to them looked like ponies—ponies of all tribes, wearing all kinds of different clothing. Most were mares, but not all. Most seemed friendly, but not all. And the shapes further and further up, the plates of glass hovering unsupported, that she could barely make out—those had stranger forms. Gelatinous things, with flashes of internal light. Vaguely animal things, even one that looked almost human. If humans had transparent, glowing skin.
“God almighty,” Olivia cursed, staring around at them all. “How many are there?”
Pear Butter ignored the question. “This is the Temple of the Infinite Self. It shows you a little of who you’ve been… every lifetime. Those ponies are you, but many of ‘em might not be a ‘you’ you can understand. It’s… not easy to explain.”
“I get it,” Olivia said. “But you’re not talking to who you think you are. I don’t have other lifetimes in here. I’m the first…” Except, maybe she wasn’t. Her ears flattened, and she took one step away from the metal plate. What about the other generations? There were two other instances of me… are they in here too?
“Everypony says that,” Pear Butter said. “It’s a natural defense against something like this. It can be overwhelming.” She stepped off the plate, and all the figures vanished from around the huge chamber. “Just step on and see. You aren’t gonna disappear, or… forget your memories, or anything like that. This is just a viewer… and anyway, that just ain’t the point of living.”
Olivia made her way over, but she didn’t actually obey. “Why not? People obviously don’t remember living other lifetimes, or you wouldn’t need to teach them all this.” She gestured up at all the glass with her wing. “If you don’t even remember all those people you used to be, how is Equestria not just dying over and over, just like anywhere else?”
“Oh, I see.” Pear Butter nodded to herself. “That’s another one ponies ask. Why don’t you step up, and I can explain it.”
So she did. Light filled the room, shining from each of the glass panes. A reflection of her appeared in the nearest one, holding a fire extinguisher and roaring in fury. That’s when I saved Lei.
Every single other screen was blank.
Pear Butter stared, glancing in shock between the one image and the plate. “Now that just ain’t right,” she muttered. “Try it again. And put all yer weight on it this time.”
Olivia’s fear vanished. The ghosts of her past selves would not be returning to haunt her today. She did as instructed. The image of her changed—this time, she was wearing the powered exoskeleton, broken pieces of it all around her, helmet off her face. When I freed the slaves.
“Well I’ll be.” Pear Butter slumped back on her haunches. “That really puts the nail in everything else I planned on sayin’.” She turned, eyes wide. “Where’d Discord drag you from, anyway?”
“I’m not a pony,” she said, a little more forcefully than before. “I came to Equus as an explorer. I haven’t lived any other lifetimes here.”
“Well then.” Pear Butter rose, turning sharply. “Guess we don’t need to go over all the rest. You ain’t a tiny piece of a larger mind who wanted to experience a different kinda life. You haven’t been slowly sliding back and forth between Harmony and Discord, deciding which one to be loyal to. Though I guess you’re here now, so you’ll have to start. We can skip to that part.”
“You said you’d answer my question,” Olivia said, as they left the same way they’d come. “How can you tell people that their past lives aren’t just dead? They didn’t remember them while they were alive, and they must not now.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Pear Butter didn’t even slow down. “They don’t remember ‘em because single-instance individuality is part of what defines life at this level. I can’t really understand much of that myself… but what I do know is that a part of you does remember. If you take a few more steps towards Harmony… which might not even work the same way for you, come to think… but if you could, you’d be able to be all the people you were, all at once. Or you already are, just simultaneously in…” She made a frustrated grunt. “Dangit, I’m sorry. I really wish I could explain it better.”
Olivia shrugged. “Like you said, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m new here. I’m not some… whatever you are. I’m human. And I still want to see the database you promised.”
“What about the last part?”
“We’re all caught between Harmony and Discord,” she repeated. “Probably some divine battle of wills, rising above our comprehension. I get it, and I choose Discord, because Harmony fucking murdered one of my friends. Just pretend you told me that part and move on.”
“Alright,” Pear Butter said, sounding unconvinced. “You don’t sound like you get it… but there isn’t a rush or anything. It’ll be a long time before we hear back from Discord. You can take a few of our years to work through it.” She lowered her voice a little. “Not one other lifetime. You’re actually just…” She shut her mouth abruptly. “Sorry, that’s rude. Let’s just… see about the database.”
Olivia followed her up onto the platform, and the two of them vanished.
It didn’t take them long to finish preparing—just until nightfall. That was fine—Lucky Break didn’t feel much like pressuring a pony who might revert from their side at any moment.
She used the time to get back in touch with the Speed of Thought.
“We’re going to have to tell Perez something,” Forerunner said, as soon as she had explained the basics. “He’s pressing me to know when we are going to rescue Olivia.”
“We’re going to lie,” Lucky said, in English. “Tell him that Olivia is… being held in the same place as Flurry Heart, in the maximum-security section of Canterlot’s dungeon. You can tell him about our plan to attack from the inside out.”
“Very well,” Forerunner said, sounding unconvinced. “Do you think he’ll try to kill you when he finds out?”
“I… I think he’s more rational than that,” she said. “So long as I can tell him after everything is over and we’ve made it through, I think he’ll understand we had to conceal the truth to keep focused on our goal.”
“Certainly,” Forerunner said. “It is not what might happen if we have careful control of all factors that I fear. But I do not see a better option, so I will comply.”
“Just be here to pick us up by nightfall. Set a roundabout course for the Crystal Empire, and don’t go anywhere near the Everfree. Wouldn’t want anyone to look out the window and see a burning castle.”
“Command accepted.”
After that, there was only one precaution left to take, one Lucky waited to implement until they were about to leave.
It was night outside Twilight’s castle, but hardly dark. The festival had resumed, its spirit even more subdued than last time. Lucky didn’t know how much Ponyville had heard about the disaster at the Castle of the Two Sisters, but they had to have heard it collapse. Maybe they had guessed how much worse things really were.
Twilight looked cleaned and fed, though still like she might be on the edge of emotional collapse. She didn’t carry any gear—evidently, she had left that task for Spike. He looked like he could barely lift the backpack on his shoulders. “There’s one more thing,” Lucky said, before they could step outside the castle’s massive doors. “Something important for all of you.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We’re going to be around a lot of Olivia’s close friends. They need to be at their best. Nopony tell them about her… until we’re finished.”
“Makes sense,” Lightning Dust said.
Twilight just nodded, barely even listening.
“It’s not a very good idea to lie to your friends,” Spike said. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“I know,” Lucky said. “But… they’re very sensitive. If they’re heartbroken about losing one of their friends, they won’t be able to give us the help we need. I’m not asking you to lie, just to wait.”
“It’s fine,” Twilight Sparkle said, glowering at Spike. “We aren’t going to solve friendship problems. We’re going to save Equestria.”
“I’m just saying, we’ve been here before. Remember that time you tried to get me to be Rainbow Dash for the Elements of Harmony?”
“I also didn’t tell you who,” Lucky said. “Olivia was one of my soldiers. She killed ponies trying to get at Celestia. It’s her best friend who might be upset, another soldier just as dangerous as she was. You don’t want him mad at you, Spike.”
“Oh.” He swallowed, looking away. “I w-won’t say anything, then.”
They pushed their way through the doors and out into the night. Flower garlands had been placed outside, connecting many of the lamp-posts. “I was thinking we would fly to the zeppelin,” Lucky continued, pointing overhead. Sure enough, it was just passing the town now, heading westward so fast it wouldn’t be visible for long. “Do you think you can catch up?”
Twilight Sparkle grunted, levitating something out of her pack. It was a pair of polished brass binoculars. As she stared, a few ponies started moving over to her, with congratulations on saving the festival. She hardly even seemed to hear them.
“It has a balcony,” Twilight said, still holding the binoculars to her eyes. “Stand close to me.”
Lucky complied, as did Lightning Dust and Spike. She was a little relieved to see she wasn’t the only one who looked nervous.
Light seared around them, white enough that she was momentarily blinded. Lucky had felt this awful, disembodied agony before, and she didn’t fight it this time. How often do you torture yourself like this, Twilight? Could a pony ever get used to it?
A short eternity later, they appeared with a crack and a flash, and the whole airship started to sag. For a few seconds anyway. It was quick to correct, lifting gently up until it was level again. Spike grinned, resting one claw on the rail. “An actual airship! This is gonna be awesome!”
Twilight stepped up to the door, which remained stubbornly closed. Deadlight wasn’t out here moon bathing tonight—just empty chairs.
Lucky stepped past her, and as she did the door opened for them. “Welcome to the Speed of Thought, Princess. We’re on track to arrive at Transit about this time tomorrow.”
Twilight shrugged one wing dismissively. “It has beds, right?”
“Sure. I asked Forerunner to prepare my stateroom for you. It’s right this way…”
The princess hardly seemed to be awake anymore—she didn’t remark on any of the lights in the hallway, or even the occasional drone that rolled past them.
Spike did, though. He shrieked, pointing with one claw as the robot about his size came rolling along the floor, sticking to the inside of the hallway. It was pulling a wheeled plastic cart behind it—probably on some repair task. “What kind of monster is that?”
“A robot,” Lucky explained, without slowing down. “It’s not a monster, though. It’s like a… come to life spell. It helps keep the airship flying. Little robots like that do lots of the work, so we don’t need as many ponies in the crew.”
“Oh.” The dragon hurried to catch up. “Can we get a robot, Twilight? I bet it would be way better at cleaning than I am!”
“That is a distinct possibility,” said Forerunner from behind them all, emerging from one of the doors. He wore a whole uniform now, along with a dark robe and hood that Lucky hadn’t seen in the computer before. It covered up most of his artificial features, though his face still looked distinctly robotic. This wasn’t the sort of drone that tried to dress itself up and pretend.
The group stopped walking—well, except Lightning Dust. “I’m going to…” Lucky didn’t even hear where she was going, as she vanished down the hallway. Probably makes sense. Perez isn’t the only one we’re lying to. Does Twilight remember you as well as Rainbow Dash?
Even Twilight in her addled state seemed aware enough to realize something was different. Spike cowered behind her, but she only slowly spun, looking up at Forerunner. Her eyes skimmed over his robes, and her horn glowed faintly for a second. Lucky had no way of judging what kind of spell she’d just cast.
“Hello, Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Forerunner dropped into a bow in front of her, low enough that he was below her head-level for a moment. “It is an honor to have you aboard.”
Twilight tensed visibly. “I don’t know if I’ll deserve to have that title after today, whoever you are.”
Forerunner straightened. “Deserving is not a meaningful state, Twilight Sparkle. Either you use the title and power you have been given for good, or you fail to do so. I believe collaborating with you will be an opportunity for the former.”
“What are you?” Spike asked, still staring openly at Forerunner. “You’re so tall… as tall as a dragon.”
“Maybe a young one.” Forerunner chuckled, or simulated the sound well enough. “My name is Forerunner. I am the pilot of this vessel.”
“That’s not what I mean!” Spike sounded slightly frustrated. “I mean what kind of…”
“That’s enough,” Twilight cut him off with a wing, covering him. “We apologize, Forerunner. Spike is… still learning how to handle diplomacy.”
“It’s quite alright,” Forerunner said. He held out one hand, far enough that the fingers emerged from his robe and Spike could see them. “I am like the other drones you saw, dragon Spike. I am a construct designed to accomplish a specific function. For the purposes of your present consideration, that is to see you succeed in freeing us from Harmony.”
“I don’t know if we can,” Twilight said, some of her wariness coming through. “Princess Celestia doesn’t seem to think so. The way she said it… trying could destroy Equestria.”
“That won’t happen,” Lucky said, before Twilight could get any further down that line of reasoning. “Because we’re going to succeed. Equestria will be safe.” The words sounded stale in her mouth as she said them, though. Wanting it to be true did not mean it would be.
Forerunner made a sound like someone clearing their throat, though of course he couldn’t actually do that. “I can tell you all need rest. Please, take advantage of this opportunity to recover. I have medical supplements to assist you should you desire them. There may not be another opportunity until this campaign ends.”