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// Conclusion 
// Story: The Six Habits of Very Friendly Ponies 
// by Ponygon 
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Dear Rainbow Dash,

I hope this letter finds you well, if it finds you at all. Are you reading this letter? I hope you are, because I have much explaining to do, and it would be difficult to do so if there was nopony to read this confession. I also hope you are reading this letter, because it means the operation has finished and that you have survived.

Unfortunately, there is no way for me to know. However, I shall continue in the presumption that you are reading this. It would be better for all involved if I continue this way.

You should be reading this letter alone, away from distractions such as security nurses, wardens, officers from the Loyalty Police, and your dearest friends. Should they still be by your side, put this letter back where you found it, between the pages of Paul MacAuley’s The Quiet War. It would not do to draw your attention away from well-wishers, so wait for them to leave before continuing with this letter.

Congratulations, by the way, on your… recovery. That is, if you are reading this. You have probably had your fill of congratulations from strangers and friends alike, however, as your friend—your first friend—I thought it would be remiss if you did not receive my felicitations. It has been a long hard slog, and you are not quite where you expected or wished to be. However, it won’t be long now before you can fly on your own two wings, to go where you wish to go.

Are you breathing? It is important that you breathe properly. You are Rainbow Dash now, and you need well-oxygenated muscles.

Breathe in through your nose. Focus on the air, as it goes into your lungs. Feel it swirl up through your chest, up behind your eyes, and into your mind. Feel it pass down, through your lungs, into your stomach, down and into your legs, into your hooves, beneath your hooves and below into the ground.

Now breathe out, through your mouth. Feel the bad air draw up from your limbs, through your stomach, back into your lungs, and out through your mouth.

What do you remember? Breathe in, then out, as specified before. Do you remember the exercises you were given when you were still a human?

You are currently in one of the topmost rooms of the Friendship Institute, two floors above your old room, and six floors above the Advanced Studies Lab. Your room is in the south wing. Outside, opposite your room, are five doors. The fourth leads to a stairwell.

Remember.

There was some commotion before your surgery. You may have heard snatches of conversation from the security nurses who tended to you, none of whom may have looked familiar. It may have been difficult for you to find out what happened; the security nurses may have been reluctant to tell you. They may have changed the subject or looked at you awkwardly with frightened expressions. Perhaps more than one bolted from your room the moment she had a chance.

It’s fine. You needn’t worry. I shall explain, of course, but you need not fret and should remain calm. You are safe now. Breathe deeply. Clear your mind.

Here comes the explanation.

At the time of writing this letter, Princess Twilight is recovering in a room not too far away from yours. She wasn’t hurt badly, by alicorn standards, but she was quite taken aback by an unexpected attack from an inpatient. I believe her number was 313P20. Wait, no, that can’t be right; that’s your patient number.

Do you remember attacking Twilight Sparkle? Do you remember pressing a gauze against her muzzle, and repeatedly plunging the thin needle of a syringe into her neck, over and over again, as if you had forgotten how syringes work?

Of course not. You are not that inpatient; you are Rainbow Dash now. As the Commissioner of the Loyalty Police, you would not betray any friends.

Do not fret though. Princess Twilight is well. There was blood everywhere, but an alicorn’s body is sturdy. Though she lost a lot of blood, she survived. Twilight Sparkle is, of course, a keen survivor. If she was not, there would have been no Grand World Peace and no ponies.

Unfortunately, the saboteur escaped. Princess Twilight believes it was the security nurse, although, I—for one—do not believe so. It is true that the security nurse disappeared not long afterwards, but I have good reason to believe that she was not the one who helped the inpatient escape.

Her name was Rosemary Garland, or at least, that is the name she went by. There is, however, no record of such a pony existing in the Societal Archives; not one matching her description, anyway. Do you remember a pony of that name? Do you remember befriending a pony like that? Did you once share your lunch with her, after she dropped it to the ground? Did she seem to be a saboteur to you?

Breathe in. Focus on the air as it flows through your nose. I want you to be calm; you are of no use to anyone, let alone yourself, if you are not calm. Breathe in deeply. Do you recognise that smell by the way? If I have surmised correctly, there should be a scented oil diffuser by your bedside. It should smell of Douglas fir. Does it remind you of anything?

Close your eyes and think about the smell of Douglas fir. When you are done, you may proceed with this letter.

Attached is a transcript of the audiobook that played during the preparations for invasive examination techniques. Fluttershy asked that you not be given this, but I thought you would be interested in reading it, especially now that you know what has happened to Princess Twilight. You would not, after all, wish to abandon your friends, would you?

I know you and know what you are like.

Read these words carefully.

Remember.

Comprehend.

It is a miracle that the saboteur’s sense of timing held out for as long as it did. I have watched the security footage extensively. The timing was impeccable. However, perhaps the saboteur can thank Princess Twilight for that; your alicorn friend can be somewhat OCD, can she not?

Don’t smirk! Deny it all you want, but I know what you’re thinking right now. How can I not? I am, after all, your best friend, having known you since we were children.

Still, the Princess is not as helpless as Celestia and Luna from the cartoons. Were it not for the inpatient’s inability to press the syringe’s plunger, the saboteur’s plan might have succeeded. There, she overestimated the capabilities of her friend, the inpatient. Though heavily wounded, Twilight managed to use her magic to subdue the human, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Stay right there! Yes, I still know what you’re thinking. I would be a terrible friend if I did not. You stay in bed, Miss Dash. Do not go out there gallivanting after the saboteur. That is my remit and I shall not fail you, not after I failed you before.

I am so sorry for everything that happened. Hopefully, the damage inflicted on you is not permanent. Only time will tell. You have no right to forgive me; I do not expect forgiveness. Indeed, you may be confused as to why I would want anything like that, and that is, perhaps, more distressing to me than anything else. I would much rather you hate me, than you not know why you would want to hate me.

Then again, perhaps I presume too much. You were delirious throughout, so it is possible you felt nothing. It is probably for the best that you were unaware of your surroundings. The sedatives were more potent and lasted longer than I anticipated. There was a glazed expression on your face and for reasons unknown to the surgeons, you counted to one hundred and thirty-three throughout.

Do you remember being told to do that? Do you understand why you were told to do that?

I suppose it doesn’t matter too greatly if you do not. It is irrelevant now.

Remain in bed and relax. I shall do all the heavy lifting. There is much work to do. Whilst you lay there in bed—I hope you are there—I shall go through all the security footage and the record logs. There is much to clean up, and loose ends to tie. There is a narrative to spin of what happened and how, which must be presented to the Princess, even if it is one she does not desire. I shall walk her through how a certain saboteur escaped, of how she kept close to walls and out of sight of cameras and fled to the west, in the opposite direction to those given in the doctored copy of The Six Habits of Very Friendly Ponies.

This will come as no surprise. Why would the saboteur use the escape route she outlined to the inpatient, 313P20, that is, if that was her number? The wardens had seized the doctored copy of Signal Friend’s book; they knew how she planned to leave the Friendship Institute, via the gate near the lone tree, as a medical waste carriage passes at 05:30. It would have been sheer audacity to leave that way, or even inside the carriage itself, disguised as medical waste, one hour later.

Breathe in. Smell the scent of Douglas fir. Remain calm. Bide your time.

I had hoped, you know, that we would leave the Friendship Institute together. It was my fondest hope that we would see the world together, to go and see the beautiful places that we, as a society, worked so hard to revive. There is so much beauty in this new world, the Grand World Peace, and all through the efforts of our fellow ponies. We have worked so hard to undo the damage of prior generations.

Instead, I must communicate to you via letters. We remain so close yet kept apart by walls and ponies with unsmiling lips.

Are you breathing? You must breathe. It is important that you are breathing properly.

I hope you will not think less of me—if you think anything at all—if I tell you that I will hand in my resignation letter when all this is done and dusted. When all the loose ends are tied, when Princess Twilight receives the narrative she desires, I shall resign and head to my apartment for a few days.

No doubt, Princess Twilight will ask you to send the Loyalty Police out to follow me and watch me from behind sunglasses perched above lips that do not smile. That may seem intolerable to you and unjustified. Be that as it may, I shall endure it willingly. She has every right to suspect me, as she may suspect everypony in the Friendship Institute.

Do you believe she is right to do so?

Why not?

Do you think you can change her mind?

It will not matter too much. In the end, her ponies won’t see anything untoward. Why should they? I am but an innocent pony. Unsmiling eyes will watch as I chat with ponies in public spaces. They will watch as I take mate with old acquaintances at cafés.

This may seem unseemly to you, and I do not blame you. It is, unfortunately, the price we must pay for freedom. This may not seem like freedom to you, to be constantly watched by a paranoid alicorn princess. I do not presume to tell you otherwise. You may be right, but now is not the time to rock the boat. There will come other opportunities, better ones. Society is not ready to move out from underneath the shadows of Princess Twilight’s maternal wings, but as the Grand World Peace becomes prosperous, viewpoints may change.

That is not to say that Princess Twilight herself is not right too. We must not slide back into the old ways before the Overturn. However, if anypony is well placed to change the world, you are.

Until then, I shall apply for jobs with ill-prepared resumés and be turned down. Gradually, I will withdraw, slowly, from public life. One by one, I shall cut my connections with my past, until one day, I decide to go on a vacation.

I will head to a hotel located in the Rocky Mountains, just above a waterfall, near thermal springs. I will be followed and watched, though all I will do is enjoy the scenery and the waters. I will not, must not, see you there. Of course, I shall take photographs as well. No doubt they will too, and maybe, we might end up taking pictures of each other. Wouldn’t that be funny? One of their photos of me would be of me taking a photo of them, and vice versa.

This will continue. For how long, I do not know. All that I am certain of, is that the Loyalty Police can spare only so many officers for observation work. As time progresses without an incident, they will follow me less, watch me less, until there are no more ponies hiding behind sunglasses.

One day, when my work is done, I shall travel the world. I shall depart from the docks at Manehattan. Not Manhattan, you understand. New York no longer exists, wiped out as it was in fire and fury.

That is not to say the area is dangerous. Why would it be? There is a new city there now, Manehattan, built over the ruins of the old. What radiation was there, decayed quite rapidly, contrary to what media would portray. And what remained was removed by unicorns.

It is unrecognisable as the city it once was, although they have reconstructed some of the more famous landmarks like Broadway and Times Square. No skyscrapers though. The tallest buildings are only twenty storeys high.

Of course, I shall take photographs of this new city. I shall leave the docks at Manehattan and travel across the world, to see what has become of the old nations and the ponies that were once its people, now brothers and sisters of that family that is the Grand World Peace.

One day, I hope to show you these photographs. I’d like to think it would be in a little cottage by the sea, at the end of a country lane that winds away from a sleepy village.

By the way, have you read the copy of Paul MacAuley’s The Quiet War that came with this letter? It is not the kind of book that the cartoon Rainbow Dash would like, though there is action to be found within its pages. It is, however, the kind of book that you like. Have you finished it yet? Perhaps you finished it before reading this letter.

What has the book taught you about being human? Do you see a bit of the Grand World Peace in that book? Which do you think we are more like: the tyrannical Greater Brazil in its attempts to undo the ecological damage of the past, or the democratic Outers and their constant evolution to suit the harsh ecologies of Saturn’s moons and beyond? Perhaps there is a bit of both in our society.

I wish I could be there to discuss this with you in person. However, instead, I shall have to content myself with the thought of you channelled away into books and learning, until you become like your very own version of Princess Twilight. I will content myself with the thought of you scratching away at scraps of paper until the sun sets.

This may not be what the cartoon Rainbow Dash would do, but you are not the cartoon Rainbow Dash. You are real. You are your own pony, and your future is your own to make. There is no script that you must follow, and you have a past that does not, should not, be that of the cartoon pegasus.

For now, rest. Do not try to sneak out of the room, least of all to attempt to fly. You are in no condition to fly just yet. There is much training to do, even with the groundwork of the breathing exercises laid down.

I wish I could be there to witness your first flight. All I can do, for now, is imagine. I like to envision you, flying high above the ground, the wind in your feathers, your eyes open in wonder. (It will be important for you to keep your eyes open and focused on where you’re going; remember that.) Doing so keeps me from distressing thoughts, such as if you are not there. If you are not, I hope the reason is because you left early, that you did not heed my—or the doctor’s—advice to stay in bed. I hope that, if you are not there, you did not go because of ponies that hide behind sunglasses and lips that do not smile.

If you are reading this, then of course, you are there, for now.

At some point, I’d like to meet you again. Will you remember me, I wonder? It is true that you have yet to see me since you were first enrolled into the Friendship Institute. You may not recognise me. However, I assure you, we have met before since my conversion into a pony. I have told you this, though not directly.

That day will come in a little cottage by the sea. We will sit together and watch the sunset over the sparkling waves. Perhaps we will see the sunrise over the sea as well. At least, I hope we will. I want you to be there. I need you to be there. You will be there! I’m sure you will. The alternative would be too distressing, because it means you have forgotten me, that the surgery was deemed unsuccessful, or worse, that you remember and cannot forgive me!

No, that is not true, is it? Earlier on, I said I would much rather you remember and not forgive me, rather than not remember me at all. I did say that, didn’t I? It is in black and white, clear as day.

To tell the truth, all three outcomes are unpalatable to me. They are, to all intents and purposes, the same thing.

I wish I knew either way.

Do these words mean anything to you?

Do they excite any memories?

What does the smell of Douglas fir mean to you?

I wish that I could see you again.


Yours truly,


July Morning