//------------------------------// // 22. The Wisdom of Alligators // Story: Inevitabilities // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// No sooner Meg had taken a seat across from Rarity that Pinkie Pie slammed down a shake in front of her, somehow not spilling a drop. “You’re not happy,” diagnosed the pink pony. “How can you tell?” Meg dryly said. She stared at the cinnamon and daisy swirl vanilla shake, wondering if it was in danger of becoming a cliché. It didn’t matter, she decided; they were too good. Rarity touched up her muzzle with a napkin. “It is rather obvious, darling. Perhaps it would help to share?” Meg looked up, considering it. There were a half-dozen other ponies inside Sugarcube Corner; there wasn’t enough background conversations to obscure their own. Twilight could have cast her sonic barrier spell, except she wasn’t here. “Is the party room in use right now?” Rarity asked Pinkie, quickly having deduced the problem. “It will be as soon as we get there!” Meg stood up and picked up her shake with a hoof. “Works for me.” Rarity levitated what was left of the biscuit she’d been having with her tea. “I suppose it does.” She followed the other mares to the party room in the back. Trailing behind the others, the fashionista closed the door behind her, then gently deposited the plate and teacup she was carrying onto one of the tables set against a wall. She next levitated that table into the middle of the room. “See?” Pinkie said, moving several cushions around the repositioned table. “The party room is now in use!” “Not feeling up to much partying,” Meg said, then jerked back from the straw. “No party cannon!” Pinkie gasped. “Gummy! You don’t have a reservation for this room!” She darted over to the baby alligator and picked him up. After depositing him on her back, she went back to her party cannon—that absolutely was not there before—and pushed it into a corner. Meg still couldn’t figure out where the hell she kept it when not in use. Rarity smiled just-so at Meg. “Now tell us what’s bothering you.” Meg swallowed some of that heavenly shake while focusing on the alligator riding Pinkie’s back. Gummy blinked one eye, then the other. She sighed. “It concerns the brony convention. I’ve been told to book Tirek for an appearance, or else.” “Why would anypony want to see that meanie-pants?” Meg gave the pink pony a wan smile. “Trust me, many would. And that means fame and fortune for our glorious leader. I guess. Not sure what his deal is.” “Be that as it may, he first has to be released from Tartarus. Isn’t this a tad premature?” Meg helped herself to more of that scrumptious shake before replying. “You think I haven’t tried explaining that?” “I’m sure you did.” Rarity took another bite of her biscuit while she thought it over. “I’ll be visiting Tirek tomorrow to do a fitting of his new clothes. Being a centaur does present its challenges, but he shall be presentable to your world’s cameras by the time I’m done. Regardless, I’m sure Twilight would let you accompany me so that you can ask him yourself if he’s interested.” She tilted her head. “There’s certainly no harm in asking, I should think.” Which was the last thing she wanted to do. Tirek must not know that Common Ground the pegasus was also Meg the human. It’s proving bad enough that certain humans were aware of that. If only the past was mutable; she’d go back to prevent herself from revealing her double-existence to the convention senior staff. “I can’t, unfortunately.” Or fortunately, as the case may be. “I have to be at work tomorrow.” “Yes, of course.” Rarity finished off her biscuit. “Alas, work requires that I be in Tartarus tomorrow.” Meg was starting to feel a little guilty; Tirek had already done far worse to these ponies. “You’d rather he remain in Tartarus.” The unicorn sipped her tea. “My feelings on the matter are irrelevant.” Meg turned to Pinkie Pie. “How about you?” If looks could kill… “I’ve never thrown him a birthday party, and I never will.” And I’m allegedly going to go back in time to free him from Tartarus, so that he can go on the rampage that will lead to… this. How could she blame Rarity and Pinkie Pie for feeling the way they do? Rarity set down her teacup. “I’ll ask him for you. I must suffer his presence anyway.” “Are you sure?” Meg asked. It might solve her problem, though. “I wouldn’t want to add to your burden.” “Quite sure. I’ve already stated the relevance of my feelings on this matter.” “Well, I mean, Twilight could ask instead, I suppose, since she’ll be there too.” “Nonsense. She has more important matters to attend to in Tartarus. I insist we change the subject.” “Okie dokie lokie: Dinky’s birthday party!” Rarity had a momentary loss of words. “I didn’t expect you to take my request with such enthusiasm, darling. But what in Equestria does that have to do with us, if I may ask?” Meg resisted the urge to face-hoof. “It’s nothing in Equestria,” she said, “if you catch my drift.” Realization dawned on the unicorn. “I see.” “And Meg is gonna find the most awesomeness place in the human realm for her birthday party!” The party pony’s expectant eyes bored into her. So did Gummy’s. “Nothing’s changed,” she said. “We can host it at my place, or possibly my brother’s, but any public place is just too risky.” Pinkie was not deterred. “You’ll come up with something. I’m sure of it.” Meg didn’t feel like arguing the point. “I’ll keep looking, but no promises.” What could she even look for? All it would take was one person spotting them, taking a picture and tweeting it or something, and the world would descend upon them. If Twilight were to attend, that would give the Secret Service an excuse to—no, that was just ridiculous. Maybe some kind of barrier spell? Did it matter if pictures were taken and posted online? An opaque barrier spell? How would the venue feel about that? Meg resumed drinking her shake, lost in thought. Rarity got up. “I’m afraid I must get back to my work,” she said. “I’ll let you know what Tirek says.” Meg’s head jerked up. “Make it clear that this is something that might happen. The Feds may decide it’s too big a security risk.” “Of course, darling. We’re not allowed to attend this year, after all. I’ll be sure to point that out.” Rarity left the party room, closing the door behind her. “Or else… what?” “Huh?” Meg looked up at Pinkie. “You had to book Tirek, or else.” “Yeah, that.” Her eyes went back down to her shake. “He didn’t quite make that threat, exactly? Just gave a hypothetical he could do, but won’t, because he’s not the ‘villain?’ Then he said he’d make it worth my while if I book Tirek. Didn’t get very specific on that.” Pinkie rested her muzzle on her hooves. “Uh huh.” “Don’t know what else to say. I mean, that hypothetical concerned outing me as a literal pegasister.” She shook her head. “I really regret revealing that.” “And what if he did? Would that get him in trouble with your government?” Meg drank more of her shake. “Being a part-time pony is my secret, not the government’s. It may be untrustworthy, unethical, immoral, whatever, but revealing that secret isn’t illegal. And even if it was illegal, the damage would’ve been done.” Pinkie mulled it over. “It’d only be damaging if he was believed. What if nopony backed him up?” Would any of the other staff refuse to do so? Maybe. But they weren’t the only ones to know her secret. “Don’t forget Jackson and his accomplices. They know too. I guess the mutually-assured-destruction détente they have with the President means they won’t reveal it themselves, and they haven’t, so far, but what if someone else did it first? They might take advantage of that.” Meg stared at her half-finished shake. “I don’t know.” It didn’t really matter if this “Section” had truly put her off-limits. She still had to worry about all the other crazies in the world who might stumble onto her dual nature. The pink pony took a deep breath. “But you’ve been avoiding booking Tirek so he won’t be able to make the connection between your pony and human selves because who knows what that meanie would do with that information but Rarity will book him for you so problem solved!” “Maybe.” Meg’s head hit the table. “If he doesn’t recognize my voice—or my face, even. I’d still have to avoid him as a human.” Gummy had climbed to the top of Pinkie’s head. He stared at Meg, blinking one eye then the other. “The worst part is, what Andrew wants is basically what Serrell wants: to put Tirek out in front of the public. Have it make as big a splash as possible.” “I’m pretty sure Twilight would also think that’s not a bad idea.” Meg groaned. “That’s what sucks about it. I don’t have a reason to say no to Andrew, none that I can give him.” And one big one I can’t even tell you. “Hell, if I did quit, I might have the President on my case.” Gummy was peering into her soul. What have I got to lose? “Gummy, what do you think?” The baby alligator blinked one eye, then the other. Pinkie brightened. “He thinks everything will work out juuust fine.” Sunshine drenched the expansive balcony of Twilight’s castle. Steve rested on the crystalline floor, his coat soaking it in, as he poured magic into the spell. Sunset had called out fifteen minutes; twenty could not be far away. It no longer felt inconceivable he could keep it up for hours, but he couldn’t do it yet. “We have company.” “Huh?” Steve opened his eyes, the spell collapsing. He followed her gaze and saw them: two griffons approaching fast. They were coming from the direction of Canterlot. Had they flown all the way from there? “Are they a problem?” Sunset Shimmer stared at them for a few more seconds before answering. “This isn’t exactly protocol.” They were close enough for their clothing to be seen. That they were wearing any was unusual enough. The only griffons Steve had ever seen that wore clothing had been at the Grand Galloping Gala. “Is that the ambassador?” She nodded. “And I’m pretty sure they don’t have an appointment with our local princess.” There was nothing to do but wait for them to arrive, nor was it a long wait. With powerful strokes of their wings, the two griffons arrested their forward momentum and gracefully touched down in front of them. The elder griffon stepped forward and nodded his eagle head. “Sunset Shimmer, I presume, the former pupil of Princess Celestia?” The unicorn returned the nod. “That is correct, Ambassador Gosswell. May I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?” “I seek an audience with Princess Twilight Sparkle. Is she here?” So, no appointment. The ambassador looked just as Steve remembered from the Gala: an old-school, lead-an-army-into-battle aristocrat, complete with uniform, numerous badges of honor, and a sash. This time he bore a sword, its scabbard held in place under a wing—as if those talons and beak weren’t enough. The younger griffon, bearing fewer badges and no sash, must have been his assistant. “Why do you seek an audience with the Princess?” The first hints of annoyance appeared. “That is none of your concern.” “Does Princess Celestia know you are here?” Sunset asked, not in the least bit intimidated. “Inform the princess of our presence.” It was clearly not a request. “Maybe I should go inform the princess,” Steve suggested. “I shall keep the ambassador company while you do.” Better you than me. Twilight was reviewing the preparations for the Tirek press conference. The equipment required by the news networks was bulky and heavy, and she had been warned that many of the journalists would not be happy walking the distance from the Gates to the building where the event would be held. A “bus” was the preferred means of transportation in a situation like this, but that simply was not an option; it’d be far too big to navigate some of the tunnel curvatures. “Golf carts” were the solution the humans had come up with: six of them, each capable of seating six, enough to seat all the people and carry their equipment. Better yet, electric powertrains were available. The Tartarus bureaucrats had not been thrilled with the prospect of fumes from internal combustion engines. Fortunately, the carts’ batteries would be up to the task, for recharging would be problematic. She perused the list of journalists. They had all been vetted by Serrell’s people, of course. Many of them she recognized from her own recent press conference, but as to the others she hadn’t a clue. They wanted her to sign off on the list. It was a formality she’d take care of shortly. Hoofsteps approached. “Sorry to disturb you…” Steve was standing in the doorway of her residence. “The griffon ambassador is here to see you, like, right now. I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer.” Twilight stood up, wondering what to make of it. “Did he say why?” “He refused to tell us. Sunset’s keeping an eye on them right now.” “That’s odd…” Celestia hadn’t sent him, not without advance warning—of that she could be certain. “I should go find Spike and have him send a message while you deal with them?” He could have been reading her mind. “Spike’s in town doing some shopping. I know, not terribly specific.” Steve sighed. “I’ll manage.” As he departed, she turned back to her computer and locked its desktop. Next, she went upstairs to put on her regalia. She took a calming breath and teleported to the balcony. “Ah, Princess!” Gosswell exclaimed. “We have much to discuss.” Sunset looked behind herself and smiled with relief. Twilight approached the griffons. “So I’ve been informed, Ambassador. What matters are so pressing that you seek an immediate audience?” She was pretty sure that’s how Celestia would have phrased it. The griffon glanced just long enough at Sunset. “It is a sensitive subject,” he pointed out. “May we retire to your throne room?” The sooner she obliged him, the sooner she’d find out what this was all about. She turned to Sunset. “Your student’s in town looking for my number one assistant. He could use some help with that.” The unicorn nodded in understanding and teleported away. Now for the ambassador. Twilight walked up to the griffons. “We may,” she declared. Without warning, she teleported herself and the two griffons to her throne room. She wanted to send the message, loud and clear, that attempting to bypass Celestia was not an optimal strategy. Twilight sat on her throne and studied the griffons. If the ambassador had been intimidated by the unexpected teleport, he hid it well. His assistant… almost as well. The throne room doors were open. Twilight closed them without getting up, the doors silently gliding until they met with a satisfying thump. She wondered when Celestia would show up—or if she would at all. Who knew how long it’d take to find Spike, or whether her mentor felt this required her immediate attention. That she would have words with Ambassador Gosswell, and sooner rather than later, of that there was no doubt. “You have your audience,” Twilight said. The griffons bowed. “Your Highness,” the ambassador began, “I understand your time is valuable, so I’ll be brief. We have yet to be granted access to the human realm; indeed, we have had no contact with any humans apart from the one time their representatives made a public appearance in Canterlot. This is unacceptable.” In other words, you got tired of being stonewalled by Celestia, so you decided to try your luck with me, the new and inexperienced princess. They had to know Celestia would find out about this. Was it really worth the risk? “It was my understanding you have been discussing this with Princess Celestia. International affairs are not normally my responsibility.” “But human affairs are, are they not?” Twilight just wanted them to admit what they were trying to do. “Did Princess Celestia direct you to me?” she asked, knowing full well the answer. For the first time, the ambassador looked uneasy. “Not in so many words, no.” “Do you expect me to keep this impromptu meeting a secret?” “We… would not presume.” The point had been made. It was time to end this. “You’ve already heard what I’m about to say, but I’ll repeat it anyway. It is not our intention nor desire to prevent contact between griffons and humans, and the same applies to minotaurs, yaks, zebras, dragons, and all the other sapient races of our realm.” Gosswell glared at her. “And yet you do!” Twilight put a hoof to her forehead. “It’s not that simple. I can’t go into details, but there are complications. We’re working on them.” The ambassador snapped his beak shut in anger. “So you say.” So this is what Celestia’s been putting up with. She needed to find a way to make them see. “If I were to take you to their realm right now, how do you think I’d accomplish that?” He almost smiled. “You would take us to a mirror that is now kept in this castle. You would then activate it, and we would simply walk through.” They shouldn’t have known about that mirror. But however they acquired that information, they obviously had drawn the wrong conclusions. She was tempted to do just what he’d said, if only to see what form they’d take on the other side. How long would it take for them to figure out it wasn’t the actual human realm? But pony-griffon relations were strained enough as it was by this. “Your information is incorrect,” was all she said. “So you say,” was the ambassador’s reply. “Care to put it to the test?” Proving it wasn’t the mirror, that they didn’t know as much as they thought, might help. And what was the harm of taking them there for a few minutes? She’d take them to a secluded spot. They wouldn’t get a plaid pill, so they wouldn’t learn about that, and best of all they wouldn’t be able to fly away and make a nuisance of themselves. It didn’t look like Celestia was going to show up, so it was either this or demand they leave. “Yes,” she said, “let’s put it to the test. I’ll be back in less than minute. Please wait here.” Without waiting for a response, she teleported to the bedroom safe in which the pill dispenser was kept. In under the promised minute, she was back in the throne room with a pill in her mouth, hidden with the help of a smug smile. “I’m taking you to their realm right this instant, without using that mirror. Prepare to be teleported.” Again, without waiting for a response, she grabbed the two griffons in her magic and swallowed the pill. She knew just where to go. They appeared high up on a mountain, far above a vast human suburban area. A year ago, she had passed through these coastal mountains in the search for the terminus of the magic leak. Wilderness surrounded them, mostly small trees and shrubs. No humans would spot them. The griffons were transfixed, gaping at the suburban sprawl colloquially known as Silicon Valley. “Don’t try to fly,” Twilight warned them. “There’s no magic here, except what I brought with me.” She shrunk her magic bubble, just in case they tried anyway. The ambassador’s assistant did try. Furious flapping did little more than to get him hopping an inch or so above the ground. He gave up after a few seconds. The elder griffon pointed at a jumbo jet, taking off from the region’s international airport. Even at this distance its roar could be heard. “That can’t be lighter-than-air.” He tracked it with his eagle eyes as it climbed ever higher, went ever faster. “How is that possible without magic?” “You’d be amazed at what they can do without magic.” The griffon grunted. “And I’m sure they’d be equally amazed at what can be done with magic.” No doubt that’d be true, if a certain cartoon hadn’t already informed them. But that was a subject she had no desire to bring up. Twilight enlarged her magic bubble to re-encompass the griffons. “I think I’ve made my point.” She cast the return spell and returned them all to her throne room. “As you have seen, there is no portal through which a steady stream of humans, ponies, and griffons may pass. There’s just an incredibly advanced inter-realm teleportation spell. There are few who can use it.” Why only a few may use those plaid pills, that there were plaid pills to be used, was the unspoken question that would not be explored for the benefit of the diplomatic corps. “Uh, Twilight?” Spike’s voice got her attention. He was holding aloft a rolled-up scroll. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said and walked over to the baby dragon. She took the scroll in her magic and checked the seal. It was from Celestia, unsurprisingly. Let’s see what she has to say about the ambassador. Twilight broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. It wasn’t addressed to her. She levitated it over to the ambassador. “Princess Celestia has a message for you.” He stoically plucked it out of the air with a talon. After taking a deep breath, he read it and, a few seconds later, rolled it back up and placed it in a pocket. “It would appear there are consequences,” Gosswell said, “which were not… unanticipated.” He bowed. “We will not take any more of your time.” The throne room doors were open, presumably by Spike when he had entered. The griffons walked towards them. Before entering the hallway, the ambassador turned to make a final statement. “Thank you for the brief visit to their realm, and for correcting a few misconceptions.” Meg pulled into the parking lot—and stopped. Definitely Monday, she thought as she stared at the main entrance to the office, where numerous protesters were protesting… something—they were too far away to make out the signs—and of course the media was there covering it. It was a safe bet it had been motivated by the latest announcement concerning nuclear waste. Police were present too, keeping a watchful eye on them; regardless, she wasn’t going anywhere near them. She resumed driving, making her way to the back of the building, hoping that nothing out of the ordinary was happening back there. And if there was… too bad teleportation was not an option for her. She’d settle for flying up to the maintenance access door on the roof, but neither was that an option in her current form. A detour through Equestria would work, but that line of thought faded as she rounded the final corner. She found a parking spot, walked up to the back door unimpeded, swiped her key card, and went inside. Upon arriving at the Department of Energy offices on the top floor, Meg went straight to the conference room. Everyone else was already there, except for their manager. She had been a little late herself; he must’ve been tied up with the special guests for this meeting, Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer. As she took a seat, she listened to the idle chitchat. “How long do you think they’ll be out there?” “Who knows. It’s so stupid. They’d protest a cure for cancer if it came from ponies.” Meg wondered if she should’ve read those protester signs. But she had seen the media. It’d be on the news, if she really cared. It was probably more of the same anyway. What was new was that they were here. Jake, their manager, finally entered the room. All eyes locked on to the two unicorns with him. It was the first time any of them—besides Meg of course—had seen a pony in person. He stood in front of a white board at the head of the table. “You’ve heard about the announcement. As you can see,” he said, gesturing a hand at the ponies, “things will be changing for us. From now on, we’ll be interacting directly with ponies. Allow me to introduce Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer, who I’m sure you’ve already heard of.” Sunset smiled and waved a hoof. Moondancer merely looked uncomfortable. “What was not in that public announcement,” Jake continued, “was that a nuclear power plant has already been selected, Diablo Canyon, which is scheduled to cease operations in about a decade. One need only look at the protesters outside to see why that detail was omitted. “Sunset is leading the team that will transport the waste to a safe location in Equestria. Once that’s been done, our job will be to assist in figuring out what to do with the stuff. Extracting the remaining uranium would be the low-hanging fruit, obviously, but whatever we come up with, we’ll no longer be limited to computer simulations.” He let that sink in for a few seconds, then broke out in a smile. “That’s right, you’ll finally get to participate on experiments carried out in a proper magical field.” It had been so long since Meg felt what everyone around her was now feeling. “Aren’t you excited, Meg?” Sunset asked, her head askance. The human rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” The mare giggled as everyone else wondered what was going on. It was probably best to end the speculation now. “Let’s just say,” Meg said, addressing the table, “that this isn’t the first time I’ve been in the same room with these two.” “In which universe was this room?” someone asked. So much for ending it. “It’s no secret Meg has been our point of contact with the Equestrians,” Jake said, coming to her rescue. “The details are still on a need-to-know basis.” And what about the first time they were all brought to Equestria? One hell of a detail would become known. Meg had already learned—the hard way—to give the phrase “need to know” the respect it deserves. Sunset Shimmer became all-business. “Moondancer will be in charge of experiments conducted on Equestrian soil.” A question was directed at the ponies. “What do you think of this Tirek development?” Sunset was caught off-guard by the question. “Well… I was elsewhere at the time, as you probably know. I barely knew he existed. By the time I learned of what he did, he was already back in Tartarus and the damage undone.” She shrugged. “I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t have strong feelings on the matter. Whether he remains in Tartarus or is released as a magic-less human, he is no longer a threat.” “I was one of his victims,” Moondancer spat out. “He stole my magic, and that’s all I’ll say about that.” Meg cringed. What am I supposed to do? The day had finally arrived. Two adjacent lines of electric golf carts waited for them, three of them back to back in each line. Princess Twilight Sparkle stood in front of one of those lines, in full regalia at Celestia’s gentle suggestion, ready to address the assembling gathering of journalists. They were on the bottom level of an underground garage. Access was easy for the Secret Service to control, and there was plenty of parking for the attendees. “May I have your attention,” she began. It looked like all had arrived. Flashes went off as photographs were taken. “In a few minutes, you will all board these golf carts. I shall then transport them directly to the Gates of Tartarus. You’ll be driving them to the location of the press conference within Tartarus. “Here’s what you need to be aware of. Numerous Royals Guards will be stationed at the Gates. Their primary purpose is to prevent inmates from taking advantage of this event to escape. Most will remain outside Tartarus. When we return to the Gates, they will magically scan us—myself included—to ensure that we are what we appear to be. Do not resist.” She scanned their faces. “Do I make myself clear?” A sea of nodding heads. “What about the Secret Service,” one of them asked. “Will any of them be accompanying us?” “They will not,” she replied, then half-jokingly added, “It’s a bit outside their jurisdiction.” That hadn’t elicited much laughter. She continued her lecture. “Likewise, allow Cerberus to get your scent on the way in; it will make it much easier to get past him on the way out. “Be aware that gravity works differently there. The route we’ll be taking will look… impossible in places. Just keep following me; everything will be fine, I assure you.” “What do you mean, ‘different?’” “It’ll be obvious soon enough.” It didn’t seem the best time for a science lecture. “Finally, Tartarus is run by minotaurs. The ones you’ll be encountering will be guards and bureaucrats for the most part. You don’t have to treat them differently just because they’re minotaurs; I mention it now simply so that you won’t be surprised when you encounter them.” There weren’t any more questions. Twilight flew up to the roof of a cart. “Please be seated and we’ll be on our way.”