Starlight Glimmer's horn glowed as her spell wove in and around the magic aura emanating from her "patient" who sat upon a medical examination table in a lab in California late Friday afternoon. Behind her, a human physician looked on, his hand cupping his chin as he tried to understand the intangible. Off to the side stood a crystal pony and a Canterlot unicorn, the latter of which was taking notes.
Even though she was no medical doctor, Starlight had been advised by American physicians that she should act as one with regards to what they called "good bedside manner." This meant engaging with the patient as much as possible and looking them in the eye as a means of showing sincerity. Yet she found it increasingly harder these days, what with the string of Partials she had examined who pined for what she could not give them.
She studiously entered her findings into the tablet PC she levitated before her. Many Equestrian unicorns preferred computers with real keyboards, as they found it easier to manipulate with styli held in their magic. Even Twilight used computers that way. Starlight, however, had managed to craft a spell that let her shape and compress the air such that it let her manipulate touch-devices in a reasonable manner. The only side-effect was a series of soft popping noises whenever she used the device.
She glanced at a monitor, where the teleconferenced image of Twilight appeared. Superimposed upon it was a stream of runes in native Equestrian font that were being transmitted at that moment. With her latest findings sent, Starlight forced herself to look up.
Her patient was a young man, his transformation having progressed as far as rear hooves and just the beginnings of equine rearrangement of the legs and hips. A bright yellow tail draped over the side of the examination table, and brown-black fur covered his ears and ringed his calves just above the hooves. His build was still so wiry and light that it was almost hard to believe he was already twice as strong as an average human.
His eyes took on a wistful look as Starlight peered into them, and his tail twitched. Starlight cleared her throat and asked, "So when was the last time you had an erratic magic burst, ah ..." She flicked her eyes to the tablet. "James?"
"Yesterday," said James in a slightly forlorn voice.
"And what happened?"
"My bed collapsed."
Starlight lowered her gaze to the tablet. "That doesn't sound like a--"
"And through the floor," James continued. "And into the basement where I cracked the concrete floor slabs."
Starlight's head jerked up. "You did? How?"
"The only explanation the doctors gave me was that my weight suddenly increased. By the time they got to me, it had stopped."
Starlight glanced at the monitor. "Uhh, you getting all this, Twilight?"
"Yes, I am," Twilight responded over the speaker. "Please, continue."
"That was the worst incident so far," said James. "All the others had been rather minor, like the occasional plants suddenly bursting into flower, or fresh grass shooting up on the lawn."
Starlight dutifully noted it on her tablet, all the while altering her magical probe to find what could have caused the latest incident but coming up empty. She withdrew the spell and set aside the tablet. She managed a smile as she said, "I'm done now, thank you for your assistance and willingness to allow Princess Twilight to observe."
James returned the smile faintly. "May I ask a question, Miss Glimmer?"
Starlight's smile faded slightly as she thought, here it comes. "Of course."
He curled his tail around his hips. "I was just wondering, um ... if you have any sort of influence, could you find a way I could, well, go the rest of the way? Become fully pony, I mean?"
Starlight glanced at Twilight on the monitor, who returned the same helpless look. Starlight sighed and turned back to James. "I'm sorry, that's not something I can do."
"It's just that they keep pressing me to rehumanize, and I'm not sure I want to."
"But are you that sure you really want to become a pony?"
James glanced around the room. Starlight did as well and found the Canterlot mage had lowered his note pad and was scrutinizing the tableau with intense interest. The physician looked on with a neutral expression, and the crystal pony looked bored.
"Wouldn't that make all this erratic stuff go away?" James asked.
Starlight could have pointed out that he had not really answered the question, but she didn't want to belabor the point. This was already painful enough. "Right now, becoming fully pony is not an option. You may want to consider rehumanization as a more viable possibility."
She glanced around her again. The Canterlot unicorn gave her a stoic look. The human physician nodded slightly in what she assumed was approval.
"But I've heard even that doesn't fix things like this," said James. "There are rehumanized people with leftover magic."
"I'm, um, not really at liberty to talk about that, I'm sorry," said Starlight. She hated how these examinations were always under such close scrutiny by both human and Equestrian authorities. However she responded, someone would take issue. "I believe I've collected all the information I need. Thank you for your cooperation."
James nodded and managed a small smile, but Starlight could tell it was forced.
Starlight waited until the physician had escorted James from the lab, the crystal pony and mage following. She turned to face the monitor. "This is getting harder and more frustrating by the day. We still have no insights as to how this is happening."
"I noticed how you responded to James' question," Twilight said. "Are you still being urged to push rehumanization?"
Starlight frowned. "Yes, even though James was absolutely right, it might not fix things, not with as many rehumanized who have similar problems."
"Sunburst believes it has to have something to do with latent human magic, and I tend to agree," said Twilight. "If it was just the few rehumanized people with odd magic, then that would point to a flaw in the rehumanization spell. But now the partially transformed are having issues, and sometimes far worse."
"From the start I thought rehumanization had been rushed," said Starlight. "We barely had any time to really test that spell. We had to simply use it on a few initial volunteers and hope."
"We didn't have much choice," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "We had a narrow time window. And those first rounds of rehumanizations worked well. There were very few lingering effects, and mostly they were small physical changes, or, at worst, some passive pony magic."
"What do you make of James' recent incident?"
"If I had to guess, it's similar to an Equestrian foal's magic surge."
"I certainly hope you're right," said Starlight. "That would mean it's temporary in nature."
"But it also gives human authorities more reason to keep them in custody," Twilight said with a sigh. "I really don't have any leverage there. I just have to hope Sunburst is close to a breakthrough on a theory he's been pursuing. I'll get these latest findings over to him at once."
Starlight glanced behind her and lowered her voice. "Maybe we should consider pushing to allow the worst of them to be fully transformed. At least pony magic is stable."
"I can't do that, not in the current political climate," said Twilight.
"Not even if we bring them to Equestria to do it?" Starlight suggested. "That would get around the whole no-transformation-spell-on-American-soil issue."
"That could potentially be a worse solution. It could open the door to the idea of mass emigration to Equestria for existing ponies, or other humans demanding the right for passage to Equestria for transformation. That's a whole other political land mine on both sides of the portal."
Starlight frowned. "Have I mentioned lately how much I hate politics?"
"I'm sorry, but I need to cut this short. I want to talk to Cadance before the press conference later," said Twilight. "Will you be watching it?"
"I'll try," said Starlight. "I have to be on a flight to New York in three hours so I can take the portal back to Equestria. I have to get ready for another unicorn magic training tour on Sunday."
"That will barely give you a day to prepare."
"Trixie's been some help." Starlight rolled her eyes and muttered, "When she's not complaining, that is."
"I'll talk to you again when you're back on Earth," said Twilight. "Hopefully by then we'll get some traction concerning the Pony Council."
"Got it. See you then." Starlight closed the call and turned around just as one of the Secret Service agents assigned to her security detail stepped into the lab. Generally they didn't disturb her here unless something was up. "What is it now?" Starlight said with a groan.
"Someone leaked to the media that you were here," said the agent. "There are several reporters outside the building."
"Ugh, not again!"
"We need to know if you intend to speak with them, or if we should just shield you."
Starlight gritted her teeth. Twilight had advised her to engage with the press whenever the opportunity presented itself as a show of respect for the American ideas of free speech, but she was in no mood to deal with them.
"You do have the option to just teleport into the car," the agent suggested.
"Don't tempt me," Starlight said. Both she and Twilight used to do that until the media suggested they were purposely avoiding the press. "Just shield me, please."
The agent spoke into his comm link. "UNMARKER is preparing to move out."
After all this time, Starlight still had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the code name that had been assigned to her. She had no idea why they insisted on that over their real names. To them, Twilight was SPELLCASTER, and Cadance was CRYSTAL.
She and the agent headed out of the lab, and more agents joined them. She frowned when she saw the reporters gathered along the path just outside. As soon as the doors opened, the reporters erupted with questions.
"Miss Glimmer! Care to comment on the arrival of the Pony Council delegation?" shouted one reporter as the Secret Service agents held out their hands to keep the crowd from coming too close.
"Princess Twilight has already spoken on that matter," Starlight replied without turning her head. "No further comment!"
"Miss Glimmer, has any progress been made in fixing the apparent flaws with the rehumanization spell?"
"I've already said there are no flaws we can detect. I don't have any more progress to report."
"Miss Glimmer, what's your reaction to Humanity First's claims that Equestria is not doing enough to encourage more rehumanization?"
Starlight clenched her teeth. Her horn flared, and a bubble formed around her and her Secret Service contingent, immediately reducing the reporters' questions to just so much mumbling. The agent in the lead gave her a speculative look.
"I should've just teleported," Starlight lamented.
Connie stepped into the kitchen just as her daughter called out from the living room, "Hurry up, Mom, you're gonna miss it!"
She smiled as she set two glasses down on the counter. "Do you or don't you want more orange juice, Chrissie?"
"Well, I do, but--"
Connie glanced at the time on the stove. "We have another five minutes, don't worry. Frank, you want anything while I'm here?"
"I'm good, thanks," he called back.
Connie grabbed the container of juice from the fridge and was about to fill one of the glasses when she noticed it could stand to be washed. She put down the container and brought the glass over to the sink.
Standing against the cabinets under the sink was a set of wooden stairs on wheels designed to allow a small pony proper access to the sink. She unlocked the wheels with a press of her foot and nudged it to the side. It was just one of the many ways that the house had to be pony-enabled for Christina, at least until she could properly use her horn.
Of course, no one as of yet manufactured such conveniences, at least not in bulk. The dozens which festooned the Morgan home had all been laboriously built by Frank to Christina's exacting standards, with some occasional help from ponies.
She rinsed out the glass, poured juice into both, and headed back to the living room.
Her husband sat on the sofa, his feet up on a small hassock, a glass of scotch beside him on the end table. Christina was seated on the carpet before the TV, her tail curled around her haunches, a metal serving tray in front of her. Connie started to place a glass of juice on the tray, only to lift it out of reach when Christina's horn started to glow. "Ah, no," Connie admonished gently. "Use your hooves, please. I'd rather not have to clean up a spill on the carpet."
"Oh, all right," said Christina in a resigned voice as the glass was placed before her. "But I'm almost there. I managed to lift a pencil today and hold it for a whole minute!"
Connie smiled. "I'm proud of you, Chrissie, but I do want to be a little cautious."
"And we don't need a carpet steam cleaning bill, either," said Frank in a kindly voice. "You don't have a spell for that yet, my little sorceress."
Christina giggled. She loved it when Frank called her that.
Connie's smile turned wistful as she sat down next to her husband. It reminded her how not too long ago she had overcompensated for Christina's lack of hands to the point of lifting her to hard-to-reach places and having her use straws every time she drank something. Only when a pony counselor told her in so many words to "stop treating her like she has a disability and start treating her as a self-reliant pony child" did she change how she handled her daughter's species shift.
Since then, she waged a constant battle between being accommodating to Christina's limitations and lapsing back into overprotectiveness. Even now, she watched her daughter as Christina closed her hooves around the glass and lifted it to her lips, despite having done it so many times now that she was proficient at it.
Connie lifted her eyes to the TV screen. The scene was what looked like a meeting room that had been hastily prepared to hold a press conference. Tables had been shoved against the walls on either side and the chairs arranged in rows for the reporters. A pony-sized podium had been erected at the head of the room.
It reminded her of the darkest days during the ETS crisis. While Greenwood Village had plans and procedures for just about every emergency, it had still felt like they were flying by the seat of their pants.
"Mom, do you think there's any chance we'll see Twilight Sparkle tonight?" Christina asked in a hopeful voice.
Connie set aside her own glass of juice and regarded her daughter's huge, expressive eyes. "Unless they interview her afterward for her reaction to the conference, I doubt it."
"She did say she was going to meet with them, though."
"Yes, but on Monday, dear."
"I hope she does," Christina said in an adamant voice. "Maybe she can fix this mess."
"Mess?" Frank prompted.
"That's what my friends at school have been calling it," said Christina. "They're all wondering why more ponies can't get along with humans better like we do here."
Connie saw her husband turn his head towards her and give her a soft smile. She smiled as well; it felt good to hear that her work was having some effect.
"Maybe you should talk to them, too!" Christina piped, pointing at the TV.
Connie had not quite expected that, and she hesitated in her reply. "What could I possibly tell them?"
"You could tell them how ponies and humans are supposed to get along," said Christina. "Like at the pony marts and the fairs. Or how you have ponies on the city council and at city hall, and even on the police force."
Connie exchanged another look with Frank, and he simply nodded once. He was thinking the same thing she was, that perhaps it was time to bring up a sensitive topic. "Chrissie, I'm glad -- and flattered -- that you think this way. Perhaps you could also help show how it's supposed to be done."
"Me?" Christina said with some surprise. "What can I do?"
"Well, you do have some human friends you haven't talked to in a while."
Christina's ears drooped slightly. "Oh, that."
"Yes, that."
Christina's tail slowly swished against the carpet. "I did try that one time. Some of them were looking at me funny."
"Only because they weren't used to seeing you this way," said Connie. "I really think you should try again."
Christina glanced at the TV. "I just don't want something bad to happen, like some of the things the other ponies tell me."
"I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I'd make sure someone was around to protect you."
Christina considered. "If I do that, would you consider talking to them?"
Connie gave what she hoped was a good-natured sigh. "Chrissie, to be honest, I don't think I could ever get them to listen."
"Why not? You got the state to listen to you."
"You know about that?"
"Of course! It's being taught in one of my classes."
Connie looked towards Frank. "Did you know about this?"
"News to me," said Frank. "But you did encourage the schools in the first district to diversify their curriculum to include more human-oriented topics."
Connie had indeed, a condition that had to be met before Connie would agree to send Christina there. "What else are they saying about me?"
"That you're trying to get humans to let ponies be ponies," said Christina. "That you don't think ponies should be forced to consider rehumanization if they don't want to."
Connie had not broached the subject with her daughter for some time, but this pretty much confirmed that Christina was unlikely to ever want to go back to being human. While she had intended to live up to her pledge of never putting any pressure on Christina in that regard, Connie could not help but have a passing thought as to how it would have made things easier.
She felt fingers slide over her hand, and she turned her head as Frank gently squeezed and gave her a sympathetic look.
"And if you did talk to them, maybe you could meet Twilight Sparkle," said Christina in an excited voice. "And you could ask her to give a talk in one of my classes."
Frank grinned. "Ah, yes, no ulterior motive there."
"And then--"
Connie looked towards the screen. "Oh, honey, it's starting."
Christina's gaze snapped back towards the screen just as two ponies entered the room and headed towards the podium. Connie grabbed the remote and turned up the sound.
She thought back to the opportunity of a run for the state senate that she had passed on. Had she that position now, would she have truly had a chance of doing a greater good? Or did the local level offer more control despite the smaller area of effect?
About a third of the state legislature had fully transformed, and only a few had sought their old positions. Representatives from areas that were largely pony had been marginalized, where even their own pony constituents had trouble seeing themselves under the same government. She would not voice it openly, but she could understand the position Washington was in. They could do nothing that would be seen as giving ponies sovereignty.
Connie shook her head at her own thoughts. No, she doubted she would ever be effective on a larger scale. She had to stay where she was, and hope to lead by example.
Sunny's fears were eased for the most part when Goldy led the way to the conference room without so much as a backwards glance. She had requested Sunny be present, but Sunny had no obligation to speak. Nevertheless, some of her nerves returned when they entered the room and she saw the sea of human faces turned towards them.
Sunny did take note of a few reporters pointing towards her, and even a few cameras swinging her way, but she tried to ignore it. What attention Goldy received, she appeared to enjoy, and Sunny wondered if perhaps she had been in the political arena before her transformation. A lot of ponies who had settled in Pony Hope were reluctant to talk about their human past, and ponies being who they were, they tended to accept others as they were in the present and not what they might have been in the past.
Goldy stepped behind the podium and smiled at the gathering. FBI agents stood in the corners of the room, looking on with a sedate calm. "Good evening, all," said Goldy. She glanced at the clock. "And I hope this isn't too late an hour for those of you on the east coast."
Sunny hoped this would be further reaching than that. Despite this taking place in the heart of America, she felt it should have repercussions around the world.
"Many of you have already heard about the formation of the Pony Council," Goldy continued. "Let me explain to you what it is. It is meant to represent the spirit of pony unity and culture. Through it, ponies can speak with one voice. While we have many beliefs and outlooks on the world, we feel we all share a common set of values that help us live in harmony with one another. Harmony is very important to us. It is not an abstract concept, but a part of our very lives and even our very selves."
Goldy had said she would promulgate a largely Harmonist viewpoint, and she had not disappointed. Sunny looked over the assembled reporters and wished she could tell what they were thinking.
"Now let me tell you what the council is not," said Goldy. "It is not a government body. It is not the forerunner of a new nation." She placed a fore-hoof briefly on her chest. "And I am not a head of state. I am simply a representative, as is my assistant Sunny here."
Sunny managed not to flinch when her name was mentioned. She even smiled when several reporters looked at her.
"And what exactly do I represent?" Goldy continued. "I represent the ardent desire of all ponies to live in harmony not just with ourselves, but with humans as well. Just because we want to remain free to be who and what we are to the best that we can doesn't mean we need to remain estranged from humans. The fact of the matter is simple: no matter how many of us rehumanize, ponies are here to stay."
Sunny thought that had to be a nod to the Shimmerists, as it was something they had pointed out very early in the post-ETS days.
"But what doesn't have to happen is conflict," said Goldy. "And we feel that conflict comes about because humans don't fully understand what it means to be a pony. It is not just a change of our physical bodies, it is a philosophy, a philosophy of peace, acceptance, and friendship. Magic is only a means to an end in that regard."
Sunny tensed as Goldy ventured into delicate territory. Despite having emphasized she was not a head of state, anything she said about magic would be scrutinized intensely by the media.
"Magic is a part of who we are," said Goldy. "It is an expression of our desires, our skills, and our talents. It factors into our lives every day. And it is a tool by which we try to achieve harmony amongst ourselves. What I hope to do by coming to you is to show you what harmony means. We want to show you how we live up to its ideals, how it helps us remain peaceful and successful, and how magic only furthers those goals."
Sunny smiled. She really did like this speech, as it played to a lot of what she believed. While she didn't necessary follow the Five Pillars as strictly as Harmonists did, she understood how important the concepts were.
And the speech was subtle; hidden inside it was a plea to be allowed to utilize magic more freely, but hopefully in a context that was far more acceptable than a mere demand.
"Thank you for listening," said Goldy. "We will now take questions."
Sunny's tail twitched. We?
A few reporters stood and clamored for attention at once. Goldy tried to point a hoof at one, but two started speaking at once. She chuckled and levitated a pen from the podium which she pointed more definitively at one, a man.
"Miss Sunshine, you've stated that you're a representative of a united pony front," said the reporter. "When you state that you're not seeking nation status, does this represent a repudiation of the Shimmerist call for a pony nation?"
Sunny's ears drew back slightly at the hardball question right out of the gate, but Goldy appeared at ease and answered immediately. "Like humans, ponies can have diverging beliefs. Their call for our own nation is an expression of their desire to remain free to be who they are. I believe we can achieve that without the need for a separate, sovereign nation. I think we can all agree that we're in a deadlock, and something needs to happen to allow all of us to progress."
Sunny thought it was a good response. It didn't throw the Shimmerists under the bus, and it hopefully assuaged the fears of those who thought this was an underhoofed attempt to achieve complete independence.
Goldy pointed to another reporter, a woman this time. "Miss Sunshine, a major concern of those who still own land in the homestead areas is gaining access to those lands again and redeveloping them. There are also the ongoing disputes in Denver and Grand Junction. Are you going to be willing to make solid concessions in those areas?"
"Those are certainly matters which need resolution," said Goldy. "But I feel we are getting ahead of ourselves. When I meet with your government leaders, it will not be to exchange demands. That is not the tone I want to set at all. I first want to establish how ponies intend to live their lives. I'm hoping to make it clear that humans have nothing to fear from us. If anything, ponies and humans have a lot to gain from each other. There's already plenty of examples of us working together."
And that was definitely a nod to the Lunites. So far, Sunny thought Goldy was holding her own very well.
Goldy called on another female reporter. "Miss Sunshine, will you be addressing the growing concerns over the use of pony magic over larger areas in recent months?"
"I'm afraid I need a bit more context," said Goldy.
"Specifically, weather-control magic," said the reporter. "At first pegasi had confined their efforts to their local communities, but now they've expanded their efforts to cover much of the homestead lands, including pockets of human settlement, as well as the entirety of the Denver pony sector and much of Grand Junction."
Goldy smiled and turned her head towards Sunny. "I'm going to defer to my colleague Sunrise Storm."
Sunny's eyes widened, and her ears drew back.
"She is far more of an expert in pegasus matters than I am." Goldy stepped back from the podium. "The floor is yours."
Of all the things she thought might happen at this conference, this had not even come to mind. Sunny wanted to refuse; she didn't see herself as a public speaker, and she had no idea why Goldy was doing this. She did not want to be the one who ruined a press conference that seemed to be going well.
Sunny took a deep breath and stepped up to the podium. She tried to ignore the fact that all eyes were on her. When her wings started to quiver, she clamped them more firmly to her sides. "Um, yes, thank you," Sunny said. "It's ... it's like First ... um, Miss Sunshine said, that we're just doing what we're capable of doing. One of the primary reasons we control the weather is to provide rain for our food crops. There are a lot of ponies to feed, and we've also been helping humans who don't have the means to provide for themselves or their families. I guess ... I mean, that ties in with what Miss Sunshine said about us helping each other. We couldn't do that if we stopped doing what we're doing."
She paused, but the reporters continued to look on with interest as if expecting she had more to say. She was rather surprised to find that she did.
"I'm aware of human concerns about what we can do," said Sunny in a more steady voice. "It's something I teach every pegasus I train. Yes, there are human communities in the homestead lands, but we work with them as much as we can. We always make them aware of what we're doing and when. In Palisade, pegasi were asked to help by the humans living there. Earth ponies as well. It's how they got a longer growing season this year and helped the economy there recover. That's a good thing. That's all we want is to be allowed to do more good things, not just for ponies but for humans as well." She glanced over the crowd, then at Goldy and stepped back. "I guess that's all I have to say."
"Well done," Goldy whispered as she stepped back up to the podium before addressing the reporters. "We have time for only a few more questions, as we do need to get dinner. I don't want to have to shout over our rumbling stomachs." This drew some measured chuckling among the assembled before Goldy pointed her pen at a man in one of the middle rows. "Yes?"
"My question is for Sunrise Storm," the reporter said.
Sunny quickly switched places with Goldy. "Um, yes?"
"What is your stance on ponies who try to act in capacities that are not legally recognized in largely human areas?" the reporter asked.
Sunny hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand the question."
"Ponies taking it upon themselves to fight fires, or act as police, or offer magical treatment of health issues without a medical license."
Sunny had not expected that sort of accusation, especially one she was guilty of herself on occasion. She had no idea how to convey that most ponies simply did what they thought was inherently right. All she could do was draw on how she felt when she did those things herself.
"It's in most ponies' nature to be helpful," said Sunny. "To be kind. To be generous. That's all any of that ever was. We just want to help. The reason we're here now is to help you understand that. I've said from the start that this never should be 'us' versus 'them.' We're not better or worse than you, we're just different, but different in a way that can be beneficial."
Sunny was not at all sure she had completely answered the question, but that was all she could say.
"A follow-up, if I may," said the reporter.
Sunny had started to back away from the podium but caught herself. "Yes?"
"There are regions of the country where ponies are allowed to operate in such capacities, but they've worked through human governments to obtain that authority," the reporter said. "Can you explain what is different about the western region where this does not appear to be the case?"
Sunny hesitated, her mind racing. She had been so focused on the ponies of her area of the country that she had not paid quite as much attention to efforts elsewhere. She knew of them at least vaguely, but not in great detail. "Well ... I suppose it's just plain geography," Sunny finally said. "We happen to have a large collection of ponies concentrated in one area. That led to us forming our own culture and identity. It means there needs to be a different approach. We've formed lives centered around our communities. We can argue about whether that was the best approach to take, or whether it should have happened in the first place, but it won't get us anywhere. It's where we are now. Trying to go back to how everything used to be is not going to work."
Sunny searched her mind for something else to say and came up empty. After an awkward pause, she backed away from the podium and hoped the remaining questions would go to Goldy.
"We'll take one more question," said Goldy. "Yes, you in the back, please."
A woman stood up and adjusted her glasses before speaking. "The Shimmerists have made it very clear that they want to see the original transformation spell made available for any and all who want it. Do you have a stand on that?"
"There's only one thing that needs to be said," said Goldy in a firm voice. "No sane pony wishes to see forced transformation, period. Had you not brought it up, I would never have broached the subject of further transformations. Quite the opposite. I'm here to show how ponies and humans can get along without the need for further transformation in either direction."
"A follow-up then," said the reporter. "Does that also represent your stance on rehumanization?"
"Rehumanization is a personal choice," said Goldy. "It's even inherent in the magic behind it. I don't have a particular stance on it as it's a moot point, since I cannot control whether or not an unmarked pony will choose to rehumanize. We all have to do what we feel is best for us." She smiled. "That's all the time we have for now. Thank you for your time. I hope to hold another conference once we've met with representatives from the American government."
Goldy turned and gestured to Sunny, who gladly followed her out, along with a phalanx of FBI agents. Tonya met them in the hall. "Gotta admit, you two have a gift for words."
"Thank you," said Goldy. "Though I don't recall seeing you inside."
"I was watching on the monitors in the next room." Tonya ran a hoof through her mane. "I'm told my coloration is a little unusual and somewhat dramatic for a crystal pony. Didn't want to take the limelight from you two."
"I didn't think I did all that great," Sunny said, her ears drooping slightly.
"Nonsense," said Goldy. "You did very well."
"I wasn't really prepared for that. I didn't feel like I had a chance to think of good replies."
"You spoke from the heart," said Goldy. "That's all anypony could ask of you. You're one of the most sincere ponies I know, and it's one of the reasons I'm glad you're with me."
Sunny managed a small smile. "I just hope that had an impact. We need all the help we can get right now."
In her quarters in the Equestrian embassy in Washington, Twilight listened to the post-conference analysis by the news media long enough to realize that she was not going to gain any new insights. She levitated the remote and muted the sound. "So what do you think?"
"They both handled themselves well," said Cadance. "Especially Sunrise Storm. I don't think she was expecting to have to answer questions herself."
"She's obviously not used to being in the limelight," said Twilight. "I don't think she quite grasps her own popularity."
"I just hope it has some impact." Cadance added in a lower voice, "Unlike some other meetings I attended recently."
"I meant to ask how the Security Council session went."
"It really didn't. It seemed to be a lot of posturing without accomplishing anything. I admit I'm not as well-versed in human affairs as you are, so maybe there's some ritual meaning I'm missing."
"I fell asleep the last time I tried to watch a video of a Security Council session," Spike said. "Why do they even have those meetings anyway?"
"It does serve a purpose," said Twilight as she set down the remote. "Considering that they have had two world-spanning wars a century ago and the possibility of total environmental destruction were a third to happen, posturing around a table with words is better than with weapons of war. It's progress of a sort."
"Does anything ever get resolved?" Cadance asked.
"Yes, actually," said Twilight with a small smile. "What you see in the public eye is more or less for show. Most of the real negotiations happen behind closed doors where the diplomats can drop all pretenses and actually get something done."
"How do you know this?"
"I was present for one of those sessions soon after the ETS crisis when they came up with guidelines concerning contact with Equestria and protocols for use of the portal," said Twilight. "It was when the portal was brought under United Nations oversight. A diplomat from a Russian ally started lecturing me from a very militant pro-human stance. The Russian diplomat stopped him and said bluntly: we don't talk that way in here."
"Well, that's good to hear," said Cadance. "And it fits more with what I've been feeling about this world."
"Feeling?"
Cadance smiled and slid off the sofa onto her hooves. "You understand how my ability works, right?"
"Yes, it's powered by love generated by the ponies around you, at least in Equestria," said Twilight.
"By all beings, not just ponies, and my ability works just as well here," said Cadance. "Well, would work were I to use it. I refrain from using it out of respect for human desires not to be subjected to unwanted magic. But I can still feel the ambient love that would fuel it. If anything, it's stronger here than in Equestria."
"The population of this planet is vastly more than our own."
"Yes, and I feel proportionally more love," Cadance explained. "Which is why the Canterlot nobles infuriate me when they refer to the humans as barbarians. Maybe humans have had a harsher past than the ponies of Equestria, but they're no less capable of the same love we are."
"Exactly," said Twilight. "Which is why the latest turn of events is as perplexing to me as it is frustrating."
"As much as I don't want to single out any one group, much of this issue arose because of the ponies in the western half of the United States," said Cadance.
"That's what the Pony Council is trying to address."
"I can see that, but as much as the press conference pushed the idea of harmony, it also showed how much more isolated from human society they are. It's little wonder humans see them as having a separatist mentality."
"Yes, and I feel like I abetted that when I endorsed the Limited Pony Homestead Act," said Twilight glumly. "All I had wanted was to help protect ponies from having their lives disrupted, but I wonder now if it did more harm than good. Now I feel like if I don't continue protecting them, I'm breaking my word to them."
"Twily, we've all made mistakes. This is a very different world we're dealing with. We can't berate ourselves for not knowing the optimum solution."
Twilight realized why she had been so pleased when Cadance had volunteered to assist with efforts on Earth despite it taking her away from her family for weeks at a time: she could always be counted on to pull Twilight out of the despair she sometimes felt when things were going wrong and no solution was in sight. "You're right. We need to figure out what's happened to the trust and cooperation we originally had."
"I suggest focusing on what changed recently," said Cadance. "You mentioned at least two government officials had been shuffled around or had their priorities changed in the past two months."
Twilight hopped off the sofa and headed over to a table where her laptop lay. She opened it with a nudge of magic and levitated a stylus. "But to what end, I don't know yet," said Twilight. "It could be just business as usual in Washington. Celestia knows I've seen the political winds shift several times, just not this hard. Ms. Rock is far more of an obstinate official than I've encountered for some time."
"Ms. Rock's attitude I can possibly understand," said Cadance. "With as many who have rehumanized still having lingering magic, I'm sure it's been frustrating for her."
"While that problem is a concern, it at least can potentially be solved with magic," said Twilight. "But with this one I need more help."
"Have you considered calling in your friends?" asked Cadance. "They've helped you before."
"Yes, but I feel that's just throwing more ponies at what is essentially a human problem. Humans initiated this recent crisis, and its going to be up to humans to solve it."
Spike looked uneasy. "You're not just going to give up, are you?"
"No, of course not." said Twilight. "My point is that we need human allies and insight, and someone who understands the political game more than we do."
"Do you have anyone in mind?" Cadance asked.
"I might." Twilight turned back to her laptop. "I've been looking for officials who have been active in helping human and pony communities interact better. I found this."
She brought up a Colorado government website. Spike hopped up on the table and Cadance stepped forward for a better look.
"Greenwood Village?" Spike asked. "Where's that?"
"In southeast Denver, almost in the heart of the pony sector. It has a human enclave, and they've made great strides in getting humans and ponies to work together." She brought up a picture of a smiling, middle-aged woman. "Constance Morgan, the mayor. I want to see if we can engage her."
Spike gave her a skeptical look. "Uh, she's really not all that high up on the totem pole."
"That was sort of what I was thinking," said Cadance.
"I realize that, but she's taken on some larger battles and won," said Twilight. "She fought for funding for some of her programs against a state government hostile to her ideas and managed to succeed. She also had an opportunity to run for state senate, and the polling showed she had a good chance of being elected, though she turned it down."
"And there's no one else you can contact who's a little higher up?" Cadance asked.
"There's another factor in play here," said Twilight. "There's been an increase over the last month of both FBI and military presence in her area of the country."
"It could be just part of the resettlement activities."
"Or it could mean something else is going on that we don't know about."
Cadance considered. "Still, it would be nice to have someone with more influence."
"We have to keep a low profile," said Twilight. "If there really is a concerted effort to undermine efforts with the western ponies, we can't attract attention. Which means we need to be discreet in contacting her as well."
"I take it you don't want to simply call her?"
"I can't take the chance that a call could be tapped or monitored," said Twilight.
"Teleport?" Spike suggested.
"At this distance, I'd have to make multiple hops, which only increases the chance of being discovered." Twilight's gaze drifted towards her desk. Upon it lay several books she had ordered on human societal development in hopes of understanding humanity better. She smiled. "We're going to use a combination of a little judicious magic and FedEx."
Eileen sat on a fallen tree trunk in the fading light of twilight, a fresh breeze bringing the faint scent of late-blooming fall wildflowers. From the distance came the sound of conversation and laughter, and occasionally singing. She could barely see much past the pony community just west of Castle Pines. The original human town was largely depopulated, the lack of light pollution making it hard to see anything other than vague shapes in the landscape.
It had taken them the better part of the day to get there, having to travel along streams and creeks where they could more easily hide from prying eyes and enjoy the protection of helpful ponies.
She tilted her glass from side to side and listened to the remainder of her drink slosh within. The only alcohol she had managed to find thus far was made by the ponies of the community, and then only fruit ciders. The one she was sipping had been made from peaches that came from the late bumper crop in Palisade.
She heard hooves behind her crunching against the fallen leaves and dead grasses. "Hey, Eileen, you're missing a good time," said Fire. "They're holding a party to celebrate the press conference."
"Yeah, thanks, Fire, but I'm good," said Eileen.
"Somepony managed to get hold of some good scotch. Eighteen year."
Eileen glanced down into her glass.
"Ponies can't drink nearly as much alcohol as humans can, so they'll be plenty left for you," said Fire.
Eileen finally turned her head. Even in the dim light, pony eyes were so huge that she could read his hopeful expression. She always felt bad when she had to tell a pony no. In all the debate surrounding them, she wondered if people lost sight of the fact that most ponies were cute as hell; disappointing one sometimes felt like kicking a puppy.
"Thanks," said Eileen. "Pass."
"May I ask why?"
Eileen sighed. "Sometimes, I just want to be alone."
"I've never understood that, to be honest," said Fire. "Not just you, but other humans."
Eileen had not wanted to engage in a debate this late in the day, but she had too much pent up stress and frustration. "Come off it, Fire, you were a human for much more of your life than you were a pony. It can't be that incomprehensible to you."
Fire trotted closer to her. "I never said it was. I just don't understand why anypony would cling to it."
"First off, I'm not a pony. Second, surely sometimes a pony wants to be alone."
"Well, sure, just not for very long, and most don't make a habit of it."
Eileen took a large swallow of her drink before she replied. "If you're going to be all gung-ho about integrating with humans, you're going to have to understand that they don't always think like you do."
"I know that," said Fire in a more subdued voice. "But I consider you a friend, and I tend to be more inclusive of my friends."
Eileen tried to find fault with that, but that would mean falling back into old patterns of self-recrimination. She had thought herself past it when she had given up seeking the forgiveness of others for her past mistakes, only to realize that had left her with an even harder task: forgiving herself.
Her expression softened, as did her voice. "Thanks. What about Jenny?"
Fire smiled. "She's having a great time. She was the one who sent me to look for you."
"Just make sure she doesn't get any alcohol by accident. She's not old enough to drink."
"She's been careful to ask what drinks have alcohol in them, so no worries there," said Fire. "A lot of young ponies are at the party, too."
Eileen simply nodded. She tried not to think she was a bad mother -- again -- for not watching Jenny more closely. She played a balancing act between what she felt her responsibilities should be and giving a maturing teenager the freedom she needed to find her own way.
What she had not told Fire was that she simply needed some time away from ponies. Not because she had any sort of inherent dislike for them, but because they were so different from her.
"Are we still leaving in the morning?" Eileen asked, deciding to change the subject before her uncomfortable thoughts could make for awkward conversation.
"Yes, so long as the pegasi tell us everything is clear," said Fire. "Then we'll head northwest, roughly parallel to Daniel's Park Road, at least until it turns north. We keep heading northwest after that until we hit Red-Tail Park. Some ponies will meet us there."
"Isn't that whole area just so much scrub?" Eileen asked. "That's not a lot of cover, especially this late in the season."
"There's also a lot of ranch land in that area," said Fire. "Some of the ponies here found some clothing for you, Jenny, and Bev to wear in order to make you look like just some ranch hands from a distance. They also have some dye I can use to hide my colors. Seeing the occasional earth pony among ranchers or farmers is not an uncommon sight."
"It still sounds like a big risk."
"We don't have much choice. No matter what approach we take, we're going to have to take a risk. Fortunately it looks like most of the FBI activity is concentrated near Parker, and the pegasi there are actively encouraging them to think we're still headed that way. I think we threw them off the trail."
Eileen had her doubts but kept them to herself. "How's Beverly holding up?"
"She's enjoying the party," said Fire. "Though she hangs out with Jenny a lot."
Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought she would've preferred the company of ponies. She's practically one of them as it is."
"Bev is concerned for Jenny, and frankly, so am I."
Eileen straightened up. "Is something wrong?"
"Can I ask you something about her rehumanization?" said Fire.
Eileen's eyebrows rose. Ponies rarely brought up that subject; it was like trying to talk about abortion with her fellow humans. "As much as I remember, sure."
"When they evaluated her afterward, what was her PREQUES number?"
Eileen had to think about that. The number was scaled from one to ten, but Eileen knew few details of how it was calculated. "I think she was a one-point-six."
"They give you any details about what the number meant?"
Eileen snorted. "Since when did the government explain anything they do? They just told her the minimum of what they were legally required to."
"So what did they tell her?"
"They said the number was not ideal but was 'within tolerances'. What 'tolerances' they were talking about I had no idea."
"I've learned something about how they calculate that number," said Fire. "Anything under one means no magic. Anything one or over means magic. A human can have fully colored hair and a tail, and they would still be under a one if there's no lingering magic."
"Yeah, they explained that to us," said Eileen in irritation. "It's not like we don't already know that she has some leftover magic."
"But the fact she's a one-point-six is significant."
"How?" Eileen demanded. "Sure, she can lift some pretty hefty weights. She's already been told that she would be disqualified from most professional sports. Frankly, I happen to be glad she's got the extra strength. Means she has a better chance of defending herself if some creep tries to rape her."
"My point is, I think she has something more than just earth pony magic."
"That's ridiculous," Eileen declared. "What, you think she's going to start casting spells like some character out of Harry Potter? Know any unicorns willing to donate their tail hairs for her wand?"
Fire stomped a hoof. "Please, this is nothing to joke about!"
"Then explain to me what the hell you're talking about, because I'm fucking lost."
"Even among earth ponies, some have additional magical abilities," said Fire. "Even me. Not only can I locate geothermal water features, I can manipulate them. That's not something other earth ponies can do. There's a reason it was once 'strongly suggested' that I stay away from volcanically active areas like Yellowstone. I could -- if I put my mind and strength towards it -- summon up a new geyser in a place like that."
Eileen admittedly had no idea Fire's power went that far. It sounded both impressive and scary. It made that story of an earth filly who could summon up an entire forest with a stomp of her hooves more plausible. Equestria seemed a lot more powerful now despite their lack of a nuclear arsenal. "What's your point, Fire?"
"Jenny may be harboring some additional ability," said Fire. "Remember what Bev said to her when they first met? She thought Jenny was a Partial like her. Partials inherently have more magic. If they were rated by PREQUES, Bev would be somewhere around two, and that's just the ambient magic radiating from her, never mind what ability she might have."
"And ten would be full-on pony, I suppose?"
"Not quite," said Fire. "Ten is Princess Celestia's power level, at least what humans theorize it is. Nine would be Twilight Sparkle's level. Eight-point-five or so would be the other Element Bearers, though most of their power is considered latent. This is what I meant about it not being linear, sort of like the Richter Scale for earthquakes, where each whole number is ten times the power of the previous whole number. Now you see what I mean about any number above one being significant."
Eileen drained the rest of her drink and tried not to let the growing worry cloud her judgment. "Jenny hasn't done anything that I know of that shows she's got some special abilities other than her strength."
"Yet Bev and some unicorns are sensing some sort of other magic from her," said Fire. "And there's something else. She was right."
"About what?"
"About the FBI being after Bev."
Eileen frowned but remained silent.
"The councilpony we contacted in Denver was privy to the bulletin that went out to all the human community leaders who still have a presence in the pony sector, and the pegasus patrol spotted those cars moving into position along--"
"I know all that!" Eileen exclaimed. "I was there, remember?"
"Jenny has either some sort of latent ability or something she's been holding back," said Fire.
"That could be just coincidence."
"With as certain as she seemed about it? And Bev obviously sensed magic at work."
"Jenny's committed to being human again," said Eileen in exasperation. "If she does have some other magic, she likely doesn't give a shit about it."
"Magic doesn't work like that," said Fire. "A pony can't simply turn it off. Yes, once it's developed, a pony can choose not to use it, but not before it has manifested. It's why foals go through magic surges."
"Jenny is no foal, and -- again -- she is not a pony."
"And yet she has magic," said Fire. "All right, maybe the rules are different for her because she's human. There's still a lot of speculation about how latent human magic will eventually manifest."
Eileen had read an article online that scientists were already exploring the possibility. Despite the general fear surrounding pony magic -- or perhaps because of it -- they had no lack of volunteers.
"Let me ask you another question," said Fire. "During Jenny's rehumanization procedure, was a crystal pony nearby?"
"Well, yeah," Eileen answered. "They said it was pretty standard by that time."
"Did they explain why?"
"For safety and post-procedural evaluation was the explanation we got," said Eileen. "But that makes sense, right? Can't crystal ponies convert magic from one form to another? She was probably there to drain off any excess magic."
"Or she could've been there to detect what kind of magic Jenny might exhibit after the procedure."
"So? They had to calculate that PREQUES number somehow."
"But they may know more than just the number," said Fire. "If Jenny does have the potential for some special ability, they may already know about it, and they may be monitoring her."
Eileen felt a chill go down her spine. "Define 'monitoring.'"
"I don't know," Fire said. "But where they are already more aggressive in tracking down Partials, it might be only a matter of time before--"
"Okay, let's stop right there before we descend into batshit insane conspiracy theories," Eileen declared. "Yeah, I get it, the feds are anal about magic, but what threat does someone like Jenny pose?"
"That's just it, they don't know," said Fire. "Humans like her may be considered more dangerous than Partials."
"That's nuts."
"Not really. Ponies are largely pacifistic by nature, humans are not. That's not meant as an insult, just the way things are. They may feel that pony pacifism helps limit how much we're willing to use magic offensively. Humans would not be considered to be under the same restrictions."
Eileen recalled the day Jenny went for rehumanization. It had been an entirely pleasant affair. The humans running it were polite, and the Equestrian mage who implemented the procedure was friendly and accommodating. They were all offered counseling afterward in case Jenny had any trouble readjusting to being human again or dealing with family who remained ponies.
Even the examination afterward when her PREQUES number was calculated had a fairly routine atmosphere to it. No one seemed at all alarmed at her rating. All the consultation had focused on her enhanced strength. There had been only one caveat.
"Fire, when Jenny had the procedure, it went smoothly and no one raised a ruckus," said Eileen. "But they did tell her that she was legally required to report any other unusual effects beyond just her strength."
Fire's pupils shrank. "That's news to me! When did they start implementing that?"
"No idea. She was rehumanized three months ago, so sometime before that I guess."
"Eileen, please, if Jenny comes to you and admits she has some other ability, don't report it!"
Eileen frowned. "I've had enough of breaking the law. I'm likely going to catch shit for what I'm doing to help Bev. And if she is being 'monitored' like you're worried about, they already know. I'd be as successful hiding it as I would be cheating on my taxes."
"But the pony community can protect her, just like it did Bev."
"You mean until they raid the place she's holed up in, like what drove us here in the first place?" Eileen said in a sour voice. "I want to protect Jenny, too. I didn't sign up for being her guardian just to let her get into trouble."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Right now, nothing," said Eileen. "If I know anything about Jenny, trying to coax something out of her that she doesn't want to tell me is a lost cause. For now, I can plead ignorance of any sort of magic she may have."
"You can't do that forever," Fire said. "Eventually, it will come out. She'll either surge, or she'll feel forced to use her power to protect somepony."
"Then we'll deal with it. With luck, it won't happen until we're safely in Denver." Eileen frowned. "Or as safe as anyplace can be these days."