Applejack hurried down the street, her brow lined with concern and confusion. The hoofwriting was unmistakably her own, no question there. Equally unquestionable, though, was the fact that she hadn’t written the letter. What did it mean? Nothing good, Applejack was certain. Her face set, she trotted into the dentist’s office. It was oddly quiet.
Glancing around, Applejack realized that the waiting room was completely empty. Even the receptionist had left his post. She sat down on the sofa and picked up a magazine. After all, she could wait a few moments. Mac could handle himself at the stand, though she wasn’t certain how well he could handle the romantic advances of some customers. Patiently, she sat and waited, listening as the clock ticked on. Tick-tock
Tick-tock
Tick-tock
Tick- “AIEEEEEE!”
Applejack was on her hooves in an instant, racing in the direction of the scream. “Doc Minuette? Y’all alright there?”
A stallion poked his head out of one of the offices, a stern, stiff expression on his face. “No need to worry, Miss. Everything is absolutely under control.”
Applejack slowed to a walk, looking at the stallion with suspicion. “What was that scream?” she demanded.
The other pony hesitated. “Root canal. Tricky business, you know.”
“Sounded like Doc Minuette. She operating on herself now?”
“All screams sound alike, don’t they?”
Applejack hesitated. Slowly, she nodded, backing down. “S’pose so,” she admitted. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll head back t’ th’ waitin’ room.” She turned, but paused, facing away from the stallion. “Oh, one other thing?”
“...Yes?”
“Did y’all know that Ah’m a livin’ lie detector?”
There was just enough time for the stallion’s face to register shock and horror before Applejack bucked him in the face. She glared at him. “Worst liar Ah ever saw,” she muttered, stepping over the prone form and into the room itself. When she got in, however, she froze, astonished by what she was seeing.
Minuette was unconscious, strapped down tightly to the chair. A magic inhibitor had been stuck on her horn, which was glowing a bright gold despite it. And hanging from the light above the chair was an old, battered pocketwatch, flickering with gold and red sparks.
Applejack nodded slowly. “...Alright. Ah ain’t exactly no Fetlock Holmes, but Ah’m gonna go out on a limb here ‘n’ say there’s somethin’ mighty suspect goin’ on…”
She unbuckled the restraints as best she could, though she was forced to leave the inhibitor on the horn, at least until she could find the key. Unfortunately, Minuette was still unconscious. Applejack gently prodded the unicorn, but she didn’t awaken. Nodding thoughtfully, the farm mare examined the situation as best she could. No smelling salts, no convenient buckets of cold water, no Pinkie Pie… right. She reared back and smacked the unicorn across the face as hard as she could. The dentist’s eyes popped open like a pair of window shades. She screamed, long and loud, and Applejack flinched. When Minuette had finished, panting for breath, Applejack gently patted her back. “Uh… there, there?” she tried.
Minuette blinked slowly. She turned to look at the farm mare. “Where?” she asked. “Where and when?”
Applejack bit her lower lip, her brow furrowed. What was going on here? “Where and when?” Minuette repeated, louder this time.
“Ah don’t know what y’all mean sugarcube,” Applejack replied, attempting to gently settle the dentist back in the chair. “Jes’ calm down, an’ tell me whatcha need ta know.”
The unicorn screwed up her face, clearly struggling to express herself. “Where… am… I?” she asked slowly. “When… am… I?”
Applejack stared. “Where and when?” This sounded very much like the Doctor’s sort of problem. Unfortunately, the Doctor wasn’t here. She would have to suffice. “Why, you’re in Ponyville, Minnie. Second Diarchic Era Year 11. Y'know, somepony really oughta change that, now we’ve got Twilight’n’Cadence— an’ Discord’n’Sunset, too, ah guess...” She trailed off absently.
Minuette absorbed this information, eyes glassy. “Who?” she asked.
The orange mare raised an eyebrow. “Why, it’s me, Applejack! Y’all remember me, don’tcha? Ah mean, Ah ain’t come into many checkups, but…” she frowned. Hold up there, she thought. Have Ah ever had a dentist appointment? What ‘bout Mac, or Bloom, or Granny?
Her eyes widened. Had anypony in town ever had a dental checkup? About the only thing she could think of was when Button Mash chipped a tooth trying to get his cutie mark in daredevil jumps. Even then, Minuette had only examined him before recommending a specialist in Canterlot. Other than that, she couldn’t remember anypony in town needing to visit the dentist. She looked at Minuette for a long moment.
The unicorn was shaking her head. “Not… you… ” she whispered. “Who… am… I?”
Applejack stepped back, eyes wide, as the town dentist rose from her chair. “Who am I?” she wailed.
***
The Doctor and Rarity had something of a difficult time pushing through the throng of ponies that now filled the marketplace. “I always hate shopping on the weekends,” Rarity said, narrowly avoiding being struck by a bagful of produce. “So terribly crowded!”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” the Doctor agreed. “Hold on, we’re almost there— huh?”
The sweets stand had apparently disappeared from where it had been standing. “Oh no,” the Doctor whispered. “Oh, no no no! The artron energy in the device must've started leaking, which must have erased the stand from existence, along with that Caramel fellow! And it won’t stop there, either.”
“Doctor,” Rarity interjected.
“It’ll keep going, erasing more and more stuff— objects, buildings, ponies— eventually all of Gaea will be wiped from existence!”
“Doctor!” Rarity interrupted once more.
“And then, after that, it’ll make it so that nothing here ever existed at all,” the Doctor concluded, staring grimly into space.
“DOCTOR!” Rarity shouted.
“Yes, what is it, Rarity?”
The unicorn pointed a hoof across the road, where Big Macintosh had dragged the candy shop, forced by the throng of ponies desperate for both sugar and apples to do double duty as a cashier for both businesses. “Oh,” said the Time Lord. “Well. Caramel’s still not here.”
“True,” Rarity noted thoughtfully. “Oh, Macintosh!”
The burly red pony glanced up from his work. “Miz Rarity,” he nodded.
“Ah, yes, good idea,” the Doctor agreed, pulling out a wallet. “Excuse me, sorry, official Time Lord business, excuse me…” he said, pushing through the crowd.
Mac regarded this with the same solemn air that he afforded to most any event. “Help ya with somethin’, Doc?”
“We’re looking for your cousin, Caramel? He’s managed to get ahold of a potentially very dangerous piece of technology, have you seen him at all?”
“Nope. Funny thing, though. AJ jus’ went off lookin’ for him, too. Summat about trouble at Doc Minuette’s office…”
Rarity’s eyes widened. “Doctor,” she said slowly. “You realize we’ve only got the receptionist’s word that Caramel left the office, yes?”
The Doctor’s face went slack. “Oh. Oh, yes. Right, time for running. Allons-y!” he shouted, spinning around and racing back the way they had come.
***
“Welcome,” Trixie said grandly, gesturing around her, “to the TARDIS.”
Sunset looked around, duly impressed. “Huh. Dimensionally transcendental. Presumably, the interior of the box exists in some kind of separate dimension to the exterior, but is immediately accessible at the same time. Kind of like the mirror portal, I guess, but more controlled. Neat!”
She noticed Trixie staring at her. “What? Did I get something wrong?” she asked, frowning slightly.
“Uh, I— that is, the Great and Powerful Trixie is just… impressed you figured it out that quickly!” the blue unicorn said.
It had taken Trixie forty minutes just to accept the basic principle, and she still didn’t fully understand the science behind it. Though, since the only ones that did seemed to be the Doctor and Twilight— and now, apparently, Sunset— she didn’t feel too badly about her own befuddlement. Applejack had decided to just accept it as being ‘magic’, or something indistinguishable from it. Spike had said that it was no more incomprehensible than some of Twilight’s experiments. Dash, Rarity, and Fluttershy chose that it was best to accept that it was beyond their understanding of the world. As for Pinkie… Pinkie had gone off to show the Doctor her party cannon. The Time Lord had returned from that experience looking much older, though once he had had a few ginger beers at the tavern, he'd announced that Pinkie was either a genius, insane, or possibly both. Everypony else decided to take this with a grain of salt, since the Doctor had collapsed into a quivering mess immediately thereafter. Ultimately, this was put down to the usual explanation of “Pinkie being Pinkie”, as it was the least likely to cause one’s brain to melt.
While Trixie had been caught in her reverie, Sunset had strolled over to the controls. “What does this button do?” she asked, reaching for a control.
Immediately, Trixie snapped to her senses. “Don't touch that!” she screeched.
Sunset drew her hoof back like she’d been burned. “Right. Okay. Don’t meddle with the time machine’s controls. Sorry, it must be the chaos magic talking.”
Trixie breathed out slowly. “Trixie honestly does not know what any of these buttons do,” she admitted. “Well, apart from the one that opens the doors, operates the lights, controls the heating… Oh, and this scanner here,” she added, waving at a blank screen.
“What does that do?” Sunset asked.
Trixie glanced over. “Not much, at least outside the Time Vortex,” she admitted. “At present, it is merely scanning for other time travelers, which, of course, aren’t around.”
Sunset frowned. “Why not? Logic would seem to dictate that if there’s one time machine, others are likely…”
Trixie shrugged. “Apparently there used to be, but then something happened to all of them.”
Sunset stared at the scanner. “So, if there were any time travelers around, what would it look like?”
“Trixie has no idea.”
“Something,” the draconequus said, voice slightly quavery, “like that, perhaps?”
A golden dot had appeared on the screen, pulsating steadily. Trixie stared at it for a long moment. “Very likely,” she said. “Sunset, would you excuse Trixie for a moment? She needs to go freak out.”
“I’ll join you,” Sunset agreed readily. “What room would you suggest?”
Trixie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “This one?”
Sunset nodded. “Right. AHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
“AHHHHHHHHHHH! WE FOUND A TIME TRAVELER!”
“TRIXIE KNOWS! AHHHHHHH!”
“I’M TOTALLY WRITING A THESIS ABOUT THIS!”
“Nerd. AHHHHHHHH!”
***
Applejack had backed up from Minuette on instinct once the unicorn had leapt to her hooves and started rooting through cabinets and muttering. Unfortunately, this resulted in the farmer’s only exit route being blocked by the unicorn.
“Where is it? Where is it?” Minuette growled, shoving delicate equipment off counters and dashing examination tools to the floor.
Applejack slowly trotted around the perimeter of the room. Looking back, she thought, maybe Ah shouldn’ta clocked that receptionist so hard. Little help’d be nice about now.
She was almost at the door when it swung shut in her face. Aw, shoot. “Help me find it!” Minuette shouted.
Applejack turned. The dentist’s eyes had gone bloodshot and her coat was damp with sweat. Her horn snapped and crackled with light beneath the containment ring. The poor mare was almost frothing at the mouth! Applejack took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Aright, sugarcube,” she said in a calm, even voice. “Ah’ll help ya look. Jes’ tell me what y’all need, okay?”
Minuette just stared at her for a long minute. Then, rapid-fire, she replied, “Vortex manipulator. Machine. Wraps around a wrist. Hoof. Time machine.” She made a vague gesture toward her forehoof.
Applejack paused for a moment to process that. “Like a hoofwatch?” she asked, but the dentist had already returned to her frantic search.
“‘Kay then,” Applejack said. “Wraps ‘round th’ hoof… or what now? Wrist?” She frowned at the unicorn for a moment. “What in Celestia’s name is goin’ on here?”
***
Caramel groaned faintly. Where was he? There was a crick in his neck. He tried to stretch, but he found that he couldn’t. Slowly, he blinked one eye open. There was no visible difference. Eyes closed. Only blackness. Eyes open. Only blackness. He felt lightheaded, like all the blood had rushed to his head. Upon reflection, he realized that this was likely due to the fact that he was upside down. He struggled to right himself, rocking back and forth. There was a sickening moment of weightlessness and a strange feeling in his stomach for a moment, and then he and his prison tipped over with a percussive crash. “Ow,” he moaned, sitting upright and smacking the top of his prison open… with his head.
Wincing and cursing, Caramel extracted himself from his prison, which turned out to be nothing more that an empty storage locker in a dim and dusty room. What was going on?
Caramel tried to focus as best he could through the headache, seeking to recall the events that had led to this point. He had entered Dr. Colgate’s office to return her coin purse…
***
The bell atop the door jingled as Caramel walked through the door. The cool, dim reception area was a welcome reprieve from the steadily worsening heat outside. The stallion at the counter glanced up. “Good morning,” he said in a rumbling, vaguely unfriendly voice. “Have you got an appointment?”
Caramel shook his head, chuckling. “No, I’m afraid not. I just came by to return Doctor Colgate’s purse to her. She left it at my stand this morning.”
The receptionist inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. “Well,” he said. “We can’t have that, can we? Just leave it here, I’ll give it to her once she’s done with her patient.”
Caramel trotted forward, but his hoof caught on a loose end in the carpet. The receptionist flinched as the confectioner tumbled to the ground, the contents of the purse scattering across the carpet. “Whoops,” Caramel muttered, cheeks coloring. “I’ll just, uh. Pick all this up…”
“Caramel?” The stallion turned to see a startled Dr. Colgate standing in the hallway door. “What are you doing here?”
Blushing more fiercely than ever, Caramel held the dentist’s empty purse aloft. “You, uh forgot this.”
Colgate blinked, then broke into a soft smile. “Oh! I hadn’t noticed. Thank you for returning it.” She glanced around the office. “At least it’s all here,” she grinned.
“I’ll pick it up,” Caramel said hastily. “Sorry.”
Colgate waved a hoof. “No trouble,” she said. “I’ll help.”
“Dr. Colgate, you’ve got appointments to think of,” the receptionist pointed out. “You go deal with the patients, I’ll help this stallion clean up.”
Colgate’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. “Just keep an eye on this one,” she chuckled. “Make sure he goes back to his depraved Cavern of Cavities after you’ve finished.”
The receptionist cast a suspicious look at Caramel. Dr. Colgate sighed. “It’s a joke, Paw. You know, funny ha-ha?”
“Ha ha,” the receptionist replied dutifully, but sans emotion.
Colgate deflated. “Fine. Whatever. Caramel, see if you can make him laugh. I’ve been trying for years, but no luck yet.”
The stallion gave a silly little salute. “Only a fool wouldn’t listen to his doctor,” he chuckled, but Colgate had already gone.
The tawny-coated receptionist sighed and stepped out from behind the desk, muttering under his breath. Caramel couldn’t make out any words, but it didn’t sound flattering. “So,” he said with false cheer. “You’ve known Dr. Colgate for a while?”
“Years.”
“Must have some pretty interesting stories.”
“Yes.”
No further response seemed forthcoming, so Caramel let the subject drop. The room lapsed into uncomfortable silence. After five minutes, Caramel had found a keychain, seven bits, an ID card, a lollipop stick, and that the receptionist gave him the heebie-jeebies. The way he moved was feline, almost predatory. His wild mane and dull, tan coat gave the impression of a wild beast. His hoofsteps were muffled by the carpeting, allowing him to move silently about the room. To Caramel’s relief, though, the purse was almost full. He could leave in just a few more— hey, what’s that?
From underneath the waiting room couch, Caramel could see a faint glow, golden and red. He trotted over to peer beneath the futon, squinting against the brilliant light. “What’s this doing here?” he asked, reaching for the glowing object.
Before he could see what it was, however, he was hauled back by his tail. Before he could recover his wits, he was pinned to the wall by the receptionist. “What have you seen?” he hissed, pupils dilated.
“N-Nothing!” Caramel yelped. “Nothing at all!”
The stallion pressed him against the wall harder. “Too much,” he whispered, eyes darting left and right. He licked his lips. “You have seen too much.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Caramel said. “I swear, I was never here! Cross my heart and hope to fly-”
It was at this moment that something struck him— the receptionist was scared. One moment later, something else struck him, and he fell unconscious.
***
Caramel looked around him. It was still dark, but less so. He could vaguely see the shapes of various furnishings in the darkness. Maneuvering around the chairs, he suddenly sputtered and fell back into the hard corner of a desk when he ran into a massive spiderweb. “Ew, ew, ew, ew,” he chanted, desperately trying to brush the sticky gossamer fibers off his face and eyes. Some had even gotten into his mouth.
Once he was confident that he had removed most of the webbing from his muzzle, he turned to the desk. “Sheesh, this is dusty,” he muttered. “Doesn’t Colgate ever clean?”
Reaching across the desk, he flicked on a lamp that he’d not noticed until now. He scrunched up his snout, now taking in the true nature of the room for the first time. “This is disgusting,” he said, glancing around.
Dust covered every surface, and cobwebs filled every corner. Hoofprints in the dust showed that somepony had been in here recently. The receptionist, Caramel deduced. But why was this room so dirty? It looked like nopony had been in here for years. Curiosity piqued, he strolled around the room. There wasn’t much to see. No pictures hung on the walls, nor even posters about flossing. The bookshelves were empty of anything but dead flies. The top of the desk contained nothing but the lamp and a few scattered papers— neatly-drawn circles and lines, interconnecting and overlapping. Obviously doodles.
He hesitated for a moment before opening the desk drawers. This was private, personal stuff that he was prying into. Colgate was his friend, and he should respect her privacy. On the other hoof, her receptionist had knocked him unconscious and stuffed him in a cabinet, which did seem to give him some kind of right to know just what was going on around here. Eventually, curiosity won out, and he opened the top drawer. In it was some kind of hoofband and a pad of paper. Caramel pulled them out, absently buckling and unbuckling the band from his forehoof as he examined the paper. On it, inscribed in tight, neat writing, were several rows of numbers, six to a line, followed by more strange circular doodles. This was all becoming very odd, Caramel decided.
This decision was only compounded by the contents of the next drawer. Caramel carefully picked up the device and turned it around in his hooves. It looked frightening-- some kind of arch, with pointed wires and fiddly bits. He carefully set it back in its place and closed the drawer.
The final drawer was quite a disappointment after the other two— it contained only an empty paper sack, yellowed and fragile with age, and a small tartan band of cloth. If he concentrated, Caramel thought he could almost smell fruit. He closed the drawer gently. For some reason, he felt as if he had intruded in a mausoleum.
The room seemed darker now, more oppressive. Caramel picked up the pad of paper and the hoofband and left the room promptly, leaving the lamp burning and flickering behind him.