//------------------------------// // Chapter 21: Molossidae // Story: Meliora // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Jackie had been to many strange places in her years. She’d seen the end of life, and beyond it. Felt the corrupting touch of necromancy, and even plunged headfirst into the gnawing void and returned with her soul intact. But in spite of all that, she still caught her breath as she passed into the center of the Breezie capital, and saw it for the first time. A shell of something like glass floated in the center of an incredible space—probably only a dozen meters or so, but unthinkably vast at her current size—and inside that shell, her eyes tried and failed to find focus. Massive coils of wire wrapped around the top and bottom of that point, coils that hissed and steamed with the chill of superconductors. Thick tubes and pipes ran everywhere, mingling freely with the artifacts of spellcraft that might’ve been at home in the lab of a Mystic Rune or a Eureka. Even as she watched, a tiny squirt of gas poured into the opening, and fell downward toward the point at the center. The entire sphere lit up, so bright that she shielded her face with a leg, so bright that the entire surface polarized for a second and the coils hummed loudly. Then they settled back again, clicking into place as the glass went clear. “God in heaven,” Liz said from beside her. “There is no way… songless primitives…” She couldn’t help it. Jackie dropped an inch to the ground as hysterical laughter shook her whole body. “You didn’t actually buy the story those fish sang to you, did you? You’re not…” She sniffed, shaking her head. “Kid, you’re not actually the most advanced race in the universe. Think about it for a second. There’s one older than you… one that’s depended on technology for longer.” “Yeah, we know.” Liz’s face lit up bright red, her ears flattening. “The Firstborn. They’re not songless, they’re our friends. They let us use their old shipyards. Titan station was way better than…” She shook her head. “Are you saying this thing is a human ship?” Jackie nodded. “Mystery solved. How did it keep running so long? How did it power itself? Right there.” Of course, the two of them had been so fascinated with the massive ship’s engine, they probably should’ve noticed a little breezie flying up to meet them. There was so much equipment in here, and very little of it had been converted or adapted for their size. Mostly there were tiny walkways and weblike catwalks connecting everything, though some areas didn’t even have that. It wasn’t much of a throne room. Jackie had feared they might run right into the queen, but apparently not. The breezie didn’t look any bigger than she was, her body bright pink with a blue mane and tail. And yes, she had a horn too. So part of the strangely malformed royal line, then. She also wore a black vest, with the shimmering underside that suggested circuitry. More human technology. Resourceful pack of scavengers. “I don’t think I’ve seen the two of you before,” she said, her tone friendly. “Did we recruit you in the last settlement? Or were you drawn to the throne room by the Convergence?” This was her chance to lie and get more information. But she could feel Liz’s eyes on her now, perhaps slightly less tolerant of a little lie after being mocked. She stuck out a hoof. “I’m Jackie, this is my friend Liz. We want to be your friends.” “Avery.” The breezie took the offered hoof, shaking theirs in turn. She wasn’t moving like the others here—she didn’t drift through the air, didn’t hum strange melodies, or seem to lose interest and have to fight to watch them. You’re a refugee, aren’t you Avery? “Wait a minute,” Liz said from beside her. “Y-you’re… you’re supposed to be the queen. The songs the ones outside sing about you… make you out like some kind of frightening despot. You don’t seem scary.” She looked up, and Jackie followed her eyes. There was a little crowd of other breezies in the room, emerging from hiding in the equipment. Most of them had vests like Avery, though at a distance she couldn’t see if they shared her same disfigurement. “Scary,” Avery repeated. “A relative term. Some of our cousins are afraid to come too close to the light. Their minds are barely lucid enough to understand what I offer them. They’re afraid to come to me here, because I know I will give them clarity. Change can be terrifying, even when you know it’s to your benefit.” Her horn briefly glowed, and Jackie prepared subconsciously to dodge out of the way of some spell—but none came. “Now that is very interesting. Your mind is…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at Jackie. Then she turned, and her horn glowed again. “And you don’t have one at all. Or any organs, for that matter.” Her eyes narrowed. “I expect a good explanation, because if I don’t get one in the next twenty seconds, I’m going to assume both of you are hostile intruders Julian sent, and I’ll make damn sure you don’t get to leave with whatever information you’ve been collecting.” If she’d been her normal size, this kind of anger from something so small probably would’ve been adorable. But this pony, whoever she was, had managed to somehow retrofit and keep an ancient human carrier running, right down to the singularity drive. She had kept an entire society afloat, somehow. She was no pony to be trifled with. “We’re diplomats come to represent a foreign power—we look like this not because we’re trying to fool you, but because there isn’t any room for regular ponies on this airship of yours. I guess that would be a waste of space, but… regardless, here we are.” “Oh.” Avery relaxed just a little. “Athena sent you? From… no, that wouldn’t make sense. She could just call us on the radio if she had something worthwhile to say for once.” “Not Athena, and we’re not from Mundi,” Liz said, stepping forward. But she seemed to be grinning. This was the entire reason they’d come, after all. The thing that had excited her. “We represent a new civilization, a new city. Thestralia. We want to make contact with the other power on our continent.” “On your…” Avery settled back onto her haunches. “Oh, right. You must be in Australia, then.” Definitely a refugee, Jackie thought. She wasn’t using the silly name for the country that had followed. “Yes,” Jackie said. “And we were hoping… well, we were hoping to make an alliance. We’d be happy to host you in our capital, Meliora.” It was also their only city, and most of it only existed in their dreams. But she didn’t need to say any of that stuff. “A pony nation wants allies of…” Avery trailed off, before buzzing to her hooves. “Alright then, ponies. Follow me. I want you to see what we’re doing. You can decide then whether you want us for your friends or not.” She took off into the air, probably intending to fly straight to their destination. But Jackie stopped her. “Please, wait. My partner doesn’t have wings in her natural form, and she can’t fly. Could we walk instead?” “No,” Avery said. “But we can do this.” Her horn flashed, and by the time the light had faded again, they were standing somewhere else. It looked like the inside of a gigantic hospital—they stood beside a massive machine, with little patient-room doors on either side. There was a window into each one, with the darkened look of one-way glass. Avery continued along. “Our newcomers… you can see how they’re getting on. This is what many of my citizens fear will happen to them when they visit my throne room.” She lowered her voice to a mutter, but Jackie still caught it. “They are right to be afraid.” Jackie followed her, looking through the glass. In each of the rooms a complex surgery seemed to be taking place. There were robots doing the work, but a nurse was standing by, occasionally fussing over the restrained pony, or bringing them something. The poor fools were awake as their torsos were cut open. Jackie almost reacted violently at the sight, as it seemed to resemble torture very closely. Half-delirious breezies struggled in vain against their restraints as they were implanted with… something. As they passed the third room, Jackie got a good look. It was hardware of some kind, perhaps twice the length of one of her hooves, made of something dark and laced with wires. “The fuck are you doing to them?” Liz asked from beside her, stopping dead to stare in at the glass. “Jackie, we can’t just let her torture them like that!” You didn’t even wait for the answer, kid. “I’m curious myself,” Jackie said, with far more grace. “How about we hear what it is, Liz.” “I’m waking them up,” Avery said. “Exactly like I promised. Breezies have distributed intelligence, like many insects. Not brains, but several knotted foci of thought. The implant must connect to them all.” “I always wondered how you fit a whole person into a breezie,” Jackie said. “I guess the answer is—” “You don’t,” Avery agreed. “Not without help. Magic is one way… supplemental processing is another. Our enemies use the former technique, this is the latter. Along with… a complex set of carefully cultivated values, education, exercises. Every day is a new battlefield.” “Do they have to be… awake?” Liz asked, still staring through the glass. “That looks horrible.” “It is,” Avery said, her voice pained. “But it is necessary. We used to perform the procedure while the subjects were fully unconscious… the secondary processor took over completely—they remained asleep forever, while a machine took over their bodies. This forces the processor to develop conterminously with the mind within. Symbiotically. It is the only way.” We’re in over our heads, Jackie thought. But at the same time, what was she supposed to do? These breezies had powerful magic, maybe even enough to fight Mundi and win. She didn’t know yet. But she knew she couldn’t give them up as allies. A glance at Liz told her that her companion felt differently. She didn’t know breezies—she hadn’t seen them in the wild as Jackie had. This looked like an awful procedure, but it would end. If it could wake them up… “This is uplifting, Liz. It isn’t torture. Most breezies are basically animals without it. Only… only refugees are the exception, I thought. And the ones that want to steal your soul.” “You’ve met my mate,” Avery said, with a slight smile. “Yes, that is an accurate description. We’re uplifting them. It’s this, or… they’ll join Julian in his service to an evil god they don’t understand. One side or the other is going to find them, so it might as well be us.” “I see no reason why we couldn’t be friends,” Jackie said, loud enough that she hoped her meaning would be clear to Liz. Shut up and let me talk, I can explain later. And this time, the breezie obeyed. “We’re kind of in the middle of our own little war, too. Maybe we could work together. Us big ponies have… resources you little ones don’t. We can work at a scale you can’t. But you have magic that we could use. That nature stuff in particular…” “Nature stuff.” Avery stopped at the end of the hall. There was a single massive room behind her, separated from them by a sheet of glass. Within were dozens and dozens of egg-sacks, not quite little at their size. Each one of them had wires running through the outside, and who knew what else. A complex tree of different-colored tubes kept the whole thing going, though according to what principals Jackie couldn’t guess. “We do have nature magic. That’s… why we’re up here, actually. It tends to be overwhelming to most civilizations below us. So far only Wayfinder Terraforming has had any use for us.” “We have use for you,” Jackie said. “Don’t we Liz?” But her companion was no longer there. “Shit.”