//------------------------------// // 2 The Other Shoe Drops // Story: Finding Paradise: an EqG Tale // by The Wandering Wind //------------------------------// As Twilight and Sunset entered the ER of Canterlot General, the room was noticeably subdued. Having been in hospitals more than once in her life, Twilight quickly recognized the sullen atmosphere. Spotting their friends, the girls quickly rushed over. “What’s going on? Where’s Scootaloo now?” Twilight was obviously stressed, having worked herself up with her previous guesswork as to the cause of the youth’s condition. A red-eyed Rainbow Dash looked up from the floor where she had previously been glaring and cried, “I don’t know! Yesterday she was fine! We were talking about her plans for next year, being on the soccer team, she seemed okay! How can she not be okay now!?” Dash sobbed, unable to hold in her worries, her fears. Her little buddy might be dying for all she knew, and she was stuck here unable to help. It was enough to drive anyone mad! Applejack was next to chime in, “Well, ah know fer a fact that girl has a lot more heart than most her age. If anyone’s gonna pull through this, it’d be her. Don’t worry, sugarcube, we’ll get this fixed, right girls?” “AJ, where’s Applebloom and Sweetie Belle? Shouldn’t they be here too?” “Ah didn’t want them to be here is things got ugly. Ah don’t think either of them should have to remember their friend this way if it’s as bad as ah think it could be.” Fluttershy, visibly careworn from the whole thing, spoke in a low voice, “Well, I know that Scootaloo is a sweet girl, even if she doesn’t like to show her soft side, as she calls it. If there’s anything I can do to help her, I will.” Rarity was silent, for once her majestic vocabulary had failed her, unable to speak any words of encouragement to her friend. She, too, had much love for the little speedster that had worked her way into Dash’s life. Scootaloo deserved better than to have such tragedy befall her. Pinkie just sat, lost in a fog of sadness, her normally poofy hair had become straight and almost looked depressed. She couldn’t even rustle up a “Here-You-Go-Hope-This-Cheers-You-Up™” cupcake out of her hammerspace, even though she knew it was that mean old author’s fault that she couldn’t. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hours later, the girls finally were alerted as a doctor came through the doors leading to the patient rooms. “Hello, are you Scootaloo’s friends? I am Doctor Healing Hands, and I’m in charge of Scootaloo’s care while she is here. She requested that you be allowed to see her, and based on my findings, I cannot refuse. I will let you in on the situation, but I ask that you wait until we are in her room. Follow me” The girls rose from their seats, stiffly walking after hours of sedentary waiting. They were led down a sterile hall and around a corner that housed a nurse’s station. Rounding the corner, there were large doors that led into spacious rooms meant for long-term ER patients. Emblazoned on an electronic screen beside one door waS “Scootaloo - ER Room LT-1” Inside the room, Scootaloo’s aunts sat on two chairs beside a hospital bed. Laid on it, was the frail looking form of Scootaloo, dressed in a white hospital gown and covered with what seemed to be too many blankets. The fragile appearance of the girl shocked all of the girls, and Dash immediately began walking toward the bed, “Hey squirt, how are you feeling?” “Dash? I thought that was you. I can’t see very well right now but I feel like crap, pardon my language.” Scootaloo chuckled, before coughing a little. “It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it, Doctor?” Doctor Healing Hands frowned, not enjoying this bit of his job at all, “Girls, I regret this, but I can’t lie to you about Scootaloo’s condition. There’s a reason why she’s not in a short-term bed. Earlier this week, I ordered a routine blood test to determine basic nutrient and hormone levels in her body, but was also driven by her complaints of a constant headache to order a CT scan and further bloodwork.” “Great, I knew this was coming” Dash couldn’t bear to hear more, but she needed answers. “What did the tests show?” “I wish I had better news for you, miss Dash, but all the data points to a devastating conclusion. Unfortunately, Scootaloo has a growth in her brain, a tumor about half the size of a golf ball, putting pressure on her spinal cord at the base of her skull. It is inoperable from this position, and it’s progressive growth has already advanced too far. As you have heard, she’s experiencing disruption in her vision,w hich shows that it’s not too far away from reaching it’s end goal.” Fluttershy could barely form the words, “A-and wh-wh-what does that m-m-mean?” “To put it simply, she’s dying.” The doctor looked like he’d been caught kicking a puppy. No one should hear that their loved one is dying, especially this young. “There’s no way we can help her, but we can keep her stable long enough to set her affairs in order. I’d estimate we have about three days.” There was a small chuckle heard from the lone bed in the room. “Heh, three days. And here I thought I’d have enough time to make some more memories with my friends. Maybe fall in love with a boy, or girl, never occured to me what I’d prefer. Now though, I guess I just have enough time to say goodbye.” Scootaloo’s face was damp with tears, a small bitter smile gracing her lips. “Well, Rainbow Dash, I guess I can fulfill my wish to become a flyer, huh? I hear angels have wings!” Sobs poured out of the young girl, pain filling her heart at the thought of all she would miss in life. Dash rushed to cradle her adopted sister as she too fought a losing battle with her emotions. Her face was a mask of pain that showed just how desperate she was to alleviate Scootaloo’s suffering. Standing next to the door, Twilight struggled to keep it together as her friends all lamented the loss of one so young. She finally ran out the door, barely listening to the cries of Sunset to stop. Sunset pleaded with her friend, “Twilight, wait! We need you here!” But to no avail, as Twilight had already fled. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sitting in a side hallway, Twilight fiddled with her cellphone as she contemplated her next move. Something that scootaloo said had jogged her memories of when she had been researching her goal of Everton’s independent study program. She had read an article about one John Sigmund, who had been an alumnus of Everton, who had perfected a memory manipulation protocol for research purposes. The protocol had been used successfully on dementia patients to help them recover from the debilitating disease. The study had become a worldwide sensation, and Sigmund had gone on to another pursuit: memory generation. John had proposed that, since it was possible to recover lost memories, then it could also be possible to alter memories. His ultimate goal with this had been legendary; to grant people’s wishes. The only hangup had been the effects of the eventual invention. Those people whose memories were modified would inevitably die from a phenomenon known as “cognitive dissonance.” The old memories and the new implanted ones would cause a reaction that would always kill the patient, thus why the process was later restricted to dying patients. Naturally the head of the Everton program at the time had not been pleased, and had kicked Sigmund out of the alumnus roster. Sigmund had the last laugh, thought, as later the newly christened Sigmund Corporation would have the man as one of their first patients. Coming back to Twilight’s thoughts, hearing Scootaloo say she wished she could create more memories, got her thinking. She’d recently heard about a Dr Watts who had been making significant improvements to Sigmund’s equipment and software, and an Eva Rosalene, who had been touted as “the premier in memory generation” in Psychology Quarterly. These two might be able to pull this off, she thought to herself. The only problem was, how do you create a future that never existed?