//------------------------------//
// Chapter 71: Word of the Silver Pony 
// Story: Daring Do and the Hand of Doom 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

The interface was complex to the point of near incomprehensibility. Carillon knew this, because she had designed it. It was meant for her, and those few of her children who had developed unicorn-like intelligence during the forced education process. She did not expect a more primitive being like Solum Finis to be able to comprehend it, at least not without substantial explanation, something she did not relish but was sure would be inherently required for him to understand the situation.  
She sighed. “I suppose I have to start with the theory.”
“No need.” Solum Finis’s one eye scanned across the entire surface. “I comprehend.” 
Carillon sputtered. “But how?”
“Technological decadence,” said Dulcimer from behind her. Almost sarcastically.
“Indeed,” said Solum Finis. “In more ways than one.” 
“Your thoughts?”
“Few. Mainly, that you are all childish idiots.”
Carillon was far more insulted than Dulcimer. “I should remove your- -”
“Your vessel.” Solum Finis pointed toward the window. Absence- -although Carillon refused to think of her by that moronic name- -was lying on the table, occasionally twitching from weak convulsions. She had at least stopped screaming, and apparently regained control over the magical surges that her body was producing. The technicians had even succeeded in performing the linking surgery. They now had full access to her vital signs, and even Carillon knew that the results were not good. 
“What about it?” 
“It is failing.” 
“She will survive. I should know. I designed her.”
“She is synthetic,” stated Solum Finis, although he already knew that. “But her form is defective. You can see these results. The infection is overwhelming her. Spreading at an uncontrolled rate.”
“She will stabilize.”	
“No. Not at this rate.” Solum Finis faced Dulcimer. “Why did you elect to use a wing-pony for this? She is not adequate. Her body cannot withstand the power.”
“As opposed to?”
“You ought to have used a unicorn.”
“It’s not possible,” hissed Carillon defensively. “Unicorn biology is to complex. Creating an adequate host synthetically would be impossible.”
“The trihorns managed to do it.”
“But we’re not them,” said Dulcimer, approaching the window. “We have what we have. You understand our machine, and what it needs. I need to know how to stop the progression before we lose containment completely.” 
“We have it under control,” replied Carillon.
“No, my child, you don’t.” 
Solum Finis smiled. “The system is not hopeless. It is admirable for one as primitive as you. Perhaps the trihorns would be proud, if only of their own skill. Had then not eradicated themselves.”
“Can it be stabilized?”
Solum Finis nodded. “Yes. It can.”
“How?”
“By activating the Necroforge.” 
Both Carillon and Dulcimer stared at him in shock. Even the technicians stopped what they were doing and stared in awe, or at least more awe than they were already staring. 
“Out of the question!” cried Carillon. “The linkages are not fully established, the core isn’t formed- -the entire structure would tear itself apart!”
“The Necroforge is a reality engine,” explained Solum Finis, speaking as though he were speaking to a foal. “Activating it creates a primary field.”
“I know that, but such a field would only be stable for a few seconds, not enough time to program the necessary algorithms into the interface- -”
“You talk a lot. Stop. Right now, your core is collapsing. Her effort is valiant, I guess. But futile. Activating the Necroforge and redirecting its force inward will stabilize her.”
“But it’s incomplete!” protested Carillon. She looked at Dulcimer, her orange eye gleaming alongside the newer red one. “If her body fails to compensate, it will sustain neither the draw nor the feedback. It will be torn apart. And us along with it.”
“But what he’s saying is theoretically possible.”
“Grandmaster! You can’t seriously be considering this!”
“I built this device, Carillon. I could not have completed it without your help, Carillon, but I know it better than anypony.”
“And I know my synthetics better than anypony. And I know that even she won’t be able to withstand what you’re asking of her. My work is excellent. But nopony’s work is THAT good.”
“I know what I am talking about,” said Solum Finis. “I saw how the last vessel was created. The only solution is to dump whatever magic you can into her body. Anything you can give. It will counterbalance her biology with that of the Hand.” He smiled. Had he been a pony, Dulcimer might have known that it was not a face that could ever be trusted. But Solum Finis, despite his appearance, was no pony, and Dulcimer could not read him. 
“Do we have any other options?”
“Yes. Wait. If you do that, you will fail. I guarantee it.”
“And I guarantee that you’ll fail if you do what he’s saying.” Carillon faced Dulcimer. Her orange eye was identical to his, as would be expected from two ponies who shared the same ancient bloodline. “You have to listen, Grandmaster. Please.”
“Don’t make this personal, Carillon. I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes you do.”
“No. Everything we’ve sacrificed, everything we’ve been forced to do. This has to work. It just has to.” He shook his head. “If I choose his path, will you reject it?”
“I will protest it,” said Carillon. “But if you give an order, I will never deny you. I will perform it with all my heart. I may lack your chivalry, but I still honor the Code.” 
Dulcimer smiled, and then hugged her. Carillon gasped and blushed slightly, as this was either an extreme breach of protocol or a deeply profound gesture. 
“Thank you,” he said. Then he released her. “As quickly as you can. Ready the machine for Solum Finis’s plan. We have to help Absence. Not just for her own sake but ours as well. The risk is great but the reward unimaginable.”
“Yes, Grandmaster,” replied Carillon, saluting him. 
Solum Finis just smiled, but as Dulcimer passed him, the pony grasped the silver being’s front leg. He turned his head upward and whispered. “If this fails, I will hold you responsible. And there will be retribution. Given time, I’m sure I can find a way to cut through silver.”
“I’m sure,” said Solum Finis, almost laughing. “But you can trust me. This process has come to me in endless dreams. It will not fail. You can be sure of that.”