Cross Reference may have been a little odd, and possibly possessed by some ancient eldritch entity, but Starlight had to admit that the librarian knew how to make a good lemon square. “So,” she said, taking another from the plate. “What do you two do here?”
“I’m a lecturer,” Twinkleshine said brightly. “I’ve got a title and everything. Speaker in Higher Dimensions, that’s me.”
“Oh. Do your lectures tend to have big audiences?”
“Nah. I take my title seriously and only lecture in the higher dimensions themselves, so you can only attend if you can step up a few of those,” Twinkleshine said brightly. “Except, hardly anyone can, so it’s mostly just me talking to the Swimmers, and the Void Rats, and the Time Sheep, and sometimes whatever cats have escaped from the boxes in the physics building. There’s some really beautiful stuff up there, y’know?”
“I’ll have to check that out sometime,” Starlight said. “How ‘bout you, Moondancer?”
Moondancer shoved her glasses up her muzzle and shrugged. “I’m a scholar, so I mostly just sit in the library and do research for papers.”
“Oh, like a student,” Starlight said.
The sudden silence was stifling. “No,” Moondancer said. “Not like a student. Like a scholar. There’s a difference.”
Starlight wilted under the sheer force of the group’s combined stare. “Um… okay then! Uh, what are you studying right now?” She could tell by the way that the mare straightened up that she had asked a good question.
“I’ve just been reading an interesting treatise by…” Moondancer squinted at the cover. “Sans Marks.”
Starlight went as white as bone. “Oh,” she said weakly. “The, uh, the Equalist Manifesto, huh?”
Moondancer looked at her intently, interested. “You’ve read it? Frankly, I’m not completely convinced about the solution it presents, but--”
“Nope!” Starlight said quickly. “Never read it. I just know it by reputation. I had nothing to do with it, and Sans Marks is definitely not a pseudonym for anypony I know. Why would it be?”
Moondancer frowned deeply. Starlight gave her a plastic smile. “Lemon square?”
The frown melted away. “Sure. I’m probably about due for a snack break.”
“How long have you been in here?” Starlight asked.
Moondancer glanced around, as though gauging her surroundings. “Well, what time is it?”
“Ten past.”
Moondancer made a little ‘go on’ gesture with a hoof as she took a bite of the lemon square.
“Ten past one?”
The cream mare munched on the pastry. “And the date?”
Starlight flinched. “Maybe some questions are better left unanswered,” she mumbled.
***
Nocan shifted in his seat to try and get a little more comfortable on the hard wooden bleachers. It wasn’t as though he looked to be going anywhere. Sunburst had proven on his way over here that he could talk the ear off a marble statue on the subject of the weather alone. Once again, he cursed Fractal and his harebrained schemes. Did you ever see him taking any kind of role in his convoluted schemes? No you did not!
Well, it would certainly be an informative lecture, if nothing else. Little was known about the workings and properties of crystal constructs. Most of that information had been lost under the reign of Sombra. Even the most studious and dedicated geologists and rock farmers had barely scratched the surface of what legends claimed crystals were capable of. Some tales even claimed that souls could be preserved in them, entire lifetimes of memory and thought stored in a crystal small enough to wear around the neck. Imagine that. What exactly one would do with a stored soul, Nocan had no idea, though he did consider putting Fractal’s in a jar and giving it a few good shakes.
Oh, look. Sunburst was taking the stage. Good for him. Nocan forced himself to stop thinking about violence toward the most loathed professor on campus and start listening to the stallion speak.
“Uh, my fellow academics!” Sunburst began. Nocan shut his eyes tight, already praying for the end. Of the speech or of himself, either would be acceptable.
“The principles of crystal constructs have long been hidden from us. The reign of King Sombra left us with less than one percent of the estimated works on the subject.” Nocan sighed. This speech was going nowhere fast.
“But due to research carried out in the empire itself, an entirely new property has been uncovered.” Nocan’s eyes snapped open. Hello, he thought, what’s this?
“Scholars of crystal enchantment have known for centuries that crystal structures can be imbued with magical properties-- usually those based in strong emotions-- and used for ambient, nondirectional magic, in a manner not dissimilar to summoned spirits,” Sunburst continued. “For the first time, however, leading thaumaturgists have managed to successfully summon and bind a spirit inside a crystal.”
From his cape, the stallion pulled a dark green stone encased in a glass box. “In this crystal, a spirit of relaxation resides,” he said, setting the box on the podium before stepping away quickly. “The strength of the crystal’s affective properties increases several times over when--”
“Prove it!”
Sunburst stammered to a halt. “Sorry?”
A griffon rose, stocky in build with clipped grey feathers on his head. “I said,” he said, “prove it. It’s all very well to spout on about how your researchers have done six impossible things before breakfast, but I, for one, would like some evidence.”
“I’ll get to the math in a minute,” Sunburst said weakly.
“Math?” the griffon snorted. “Pah! Why don’t you take that rock out of its case, sonny, and put it to the real test?”
“I’m sorry, but that could prove a real hazard--”
The griffon, whom Nocan now recognized as Professor Graphite of the geology department, snorted expansively. “Typical.”
Sunburst set his jaw. “Well, alright then,” he said. “You’ll have your proof, then.”
In the instant before Sunburst opened the glass case, Nocan wondered about the effects of carrying around such a powerful relaxing artifact all day, particularly on a stallion who seemed to live life constantly on edge.
Then the case was open, and he just felt so warm and fuzzy.
“You are, of course, more than welcome to observe the effects of this crystal on myself and the audience,” Sunburst said. “If I may continue, this represents a great step forward in the application of traditionally nondirectional magics, such as those exhibited by earth ponies, donkeys, kangaroos, and other species who lack a biological function to naturally channel magic. It may also prove advantageous in the studies of crystals and spirits. A crystal could be made to channel non-emotional magics. Like time! Time is kind of an emotion, isn’t it? Like, you feel it, you experience it, but you don’t know how, right? And you can’t control it like thought. Maybe time is just our own perceptions.”
Murmurs of agreement from the audience. Encouraged, Sunburst continued. “Maybe, maybe we can travel in time just by thinking hard enough, right? You can change your mood by thinking about different stuff, so why not time?”
This sounded entirely reasonable to the audience, or at least the portion not busy staring at their hooves, taking off their spectacles and laughing, or making out with whoever they were sitting next to. “Let’s try it!” Sunburst said. “We’ll all think about time, really hard. And then, then, we can travel back in time and tell Starlight… tell Starlight…” He trailed off. “Dudes, look at that wall. Has that always been there?”
And thus, an entire lecture hall got stoned on spirits.
***
“Anyway,” Lyra said. “It’s getting kinda late. I had a few plans for dinner, if anypony’s hungry?”
Twinkleshine shrugged and smiled. “I could eat.”
“I could do with a drink,” Minuette sighed.
“Okay!” Lyra grinned. “I think our best bet is probably the Oscillating Quark.”
Moondancer started. “Are you joking?” she asked. “That’s a terrible idea!”
“What’s so bad about it?” Starlight asked. “Actually, what is it?”
“The Oscillating Quark?” Lemon replied. “It’s a great little bar on the south end of the campus.”
“The rough side of campus,” Moondancer grumbled. “There are students there.”
“Yeah, but they’re all smashed,” Lyra pointed out. “It’s like the one place where they’re actually tolerable. And there’s lots of professors there, too.”
“A bar sounds pretty nice,” Starlight said. “You know what? I’m down.”
Moondancer bit her lip. “I really don’t know, Starlight,” she said. “I mean, yes, you have been published, and you’re well-known enough to be allowed in, I just… don’t think this is quite your scene.”
Starlight scoffed. “Not my scene? Moondancer. Please. This is me we’re talking about, the actual student of the actual princess of friendship! I get along with people!”
Moondancer nodded, but still looked unconvinced.
***
Starlight stared at the facade of the club. “Is that…”
“An old ventilation duct converted into a bar? A bookshelf that has as much tequila on it as tomes? A Bad to the Gluon tattoo on the bouncer’s forehoof? Yes. Yes it is,” Moondancer nodded. “You know, it really isn’t too late to turn back.”
Starlight hesitated. Then, she grit her teeth and set her hooves. “Let’s go.”
The other unicorn sighed. “Fine. But there are some things you should know. Don’t look at Particle Accelerator Pete’s bad eye for too long. Order something alcoholic, but under no circumstances should you so much as sniff the house beer unless you really trust the biochem grad students. Never play pool against Professor Plutonium Rich, he looks all cool with his bongo drums and fun lectures on quantum mechanics, but he’ll eat you up and spit you out. And if you don’t want a brawl on your hooves, don’t even think about mentioning—” she glanced both ways before leaning in. “The DISMAL one,” she hissed.
“Why, what’s wrong with ec—” Starlight began. Moondancer shoved a hoof in the pink mare’s mouth.
“Don’t,” she said, glaring intently through her glasses. “Especially not if the Cossaccountants are in tonight.”
Not for the first time, Starlight wondered what she was getting into. The group of mares trotted up to the door before the bouncer, a muscular grey earth pony in a bowtie and sweater vest, held up a hoof. “Hold it,” he growled. He pointed to Lyra. “APA format of your last published work.”
She took a step forward. “Heartstrings, L. (5 B.A.T.) Baltimare Journal of Cryptozoology. Baltimare: Baltimare University Press.”
There was a moment’s silence as the bouncer checked a clipboard. He grunted and waved her in. The other mares followed the same procedure until it was Starlight’s turn. “E-er, Glimmer, S. (6 B.A.T.). Sociomancy Studies. Canterlot: Blue Mountain Press.”
It seemed to take him an age to find the relevant entry. “You’re clear,” he said at last.
Starlight nodded, still shaky, and trotted over to where her guides were waiting. “C’mon, girl!” Lyra said, bouncing on her hooves. “Let’s go get some food in us!”
Starlight’s experience with bars had been limited. The only one which she’d spent any amount of time in was Ponyville’s own tavern, the Stick and Carrot. Run by the able and unfazeable Berry Punch, the small town’s pub was cozy, featuring beautiful landscapes painted locally, clean and antique oak tables, and an atmosphere of quiet good cheer.
The Oscillating Quark seemed to be about as far away from that as it could be. It was an assault to the senses. If it wasn’t flickering neon, it was loudly cheering, or it stank of smoke, or it was stickier than it had any right to be. Most things were a combination of the above.
“Great, isn’t it?” Twinkleshine shouted.
Starlight jumped. That had been right in her ear! “I-- uh, I guess so!” she shouted back.
Looking around, her new friends seemed to have slipped right into the swing of things. The only one who seemed to be as miserable to be here as Starlight felt was Moondancer. She was standing stiffly at the bar, face as expressionless as a plank of wood. But as she watched, Twinkleshine took Moondancer’s hoof and pulled her in for a peck on the cheek. The bespectacled mare practically melted. She followed Twinkleshine to a booth, a doofy smile on her face.
Starlight followed them, and soon all six mares had gravitated to a single booth. At the booth behind them, she heard two stallions arguing about the best way to win at poker using mathematics. When Lyra asked what she wanted to drink, Starlight merely shook her head and indicated that she wasn’t thirsty. Her head was pounding. How could these mares actually be enjoying this? It was louder and more obnoxious than Trixie at her worst. She took the fried mozzarella sticks grudgingly, and swizzled them around the provided marinara sauce. It was stringy. Oh, well. At least dinner couldn’t get any worse.
Then she looked up, and saw him on the other side of the bar. They locked eyes for a moment. Sunburst opened his mouth to call out, but Starlight was already out of her seat and running, running, running away. She shoved open the door to the toilets and dove in. She had to get away.
She made a beeline for the nearest open stall. She slammed the door shut behind her and slumped against it. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it. She didn’t know these ponies. She didn’t know this place. There was no structure, no set lesson plan. She was floundering in a void of friendship and other, harder-to-define relationships that might or might not even exist. She just couldn’t do it.
Starlight wasn’t sure when she started crying, but she decided that she might as well keep going.