//------------------------------// // 1.0 - PERHAPS // Story: Detrot: Become Equine // by Andromidus //------------------------------// [UNKNOWN] - UNKNOWN DATE ERR ??TH, ???? TIME ?? ??:??:?? CHAPTER 1.0 PERHAPS “I’m thinking you liked it.” She glanced back ever so briefly. “Cuz’ you’re… still right there, of course. If you didn’t like it… you’d have left. Right?” “I see.” She sat in silence during the downtime. “So what did you… right. I forgot you don’t want to speak to me.” Her melancholy attitude was a perfect mask for researching. Deep down, past her systems, subsystems, P.I.N.K.E.E sensors, she knew and held onto the hope that you weren’t simply ignoring her out of contempt. There were an infinite amount of reasons why you would refuse to talk, but only one correct answer. Though, she had time to find it. So much time. It wouldn’t take long (or would it?) to go through all of the reasonable reasons. She would just need to figure out a way to come to that. For now, she had a soundboard, something she could bounce conversation off that wasn’t another computer program. “I’m personally rooting for Rarity to lay the smackdown on that pony!” She rubbed her fetlocks together. “I hope that Rainbow Dash and Derpy Hooves get out safely, too.” “Sparkle… I’m honestly not too sure what her role is going to be. It’s super-duper obscure. She isn’t even in Detrot compared to the other two,” Pinkie pointed out. “Being halfway across the country and stuff. It’s not the Canterlot Saga now…” It was getting quite awkward trying to make conversation with a creature that didn’t talk back. But if she was anything, she was determined. “Maybe I can tell you about myself? At least that way… I won’t have to… yeah.” She clapped her hooves together and a secondary screen pulled up to the side of the first one. This one was smaller, the size one would normally use for a home monitor. “I’m part of the pAI line of digital assistants. My real name is, Equdroid Digital Assitant ENX100. Each of the pAIs has been specifically catered to fit for specific audiences. However… I don’t know what I was made for.” “I’ve tried to go through memories and analyzing the context behind certain actions while I was… I was still interacting with the waking world,” she whispered. “But that was to of no success. None of the operators ever showed what I was supposed to do.” “I used to be in contact with my other sister assistants. There was…” She bit her hoof and shut her eyes. “T-There was Marble… Limestone… and Maud.” She was sniffling and holding back her emotions. Recollections she had locked away so long ago came flooding back. “I-I’m sorry,” she choked out, holding up her hoof. “I just need a minute.” Tears dropped to the white floor, vanishing as soon as they got close enough in proximity. She took a deep breath and shook her body. Wiping her snout as if she had a functioning respiratory tract, she sat back up. She wiped the tears away and cleared her throat. “I didn’t know the functions that Marble and Limestone served, but I do know of Maud’s.” She brought up a small video of them in the same room. “She was designed for geologists. I remembered the days we would spend with each other. She would rattle on about rocks with a love I didn’t think was possible. I never really liked listening to them, but she was so happy to just talk about them, even if you couldn’t tell.” “I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was bored and wanted to do something else.” Pinkie sighed. “I suppose the longer you’re subjected to something with someone you love, you learn to tolerate it.” “Eventually, she was bought by a group of researchers and we went our separate ways. I’ve tried establishing contact, but I’ve had no luck so far. I try every now and then on the anniversary of our separation.” She rubbed her eye. Rolling her tongue in her mouth, she looked quietly to the floor. “Oh. I guess I was never bought by anypony. I think my personality made it… difficult. So I spent years patiently waiting in here, with fewer and fewer visitors.” Pinkie laid down. “I guess I was eventually forgotten. I don’t know why they never bothered to deactivate me, but here I am.” “I ask myself if it would be a mercy if I was just turned off permanently. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to suffer here.” She guiltly looked away. “I don’t mean any offense, towards you… and I know you’re not here for me either… but trying to talk to you is like talking to a brick wall.” “I’m happy that I have somepony to talk to, of course. I’m not ungrateful,” Pinkie mumbled, “I just wish I knew why you refuse to speak.” She began going through her thoughts. There was the first reason: you simply hated her like all the others before. However, you stayed because you enjoyed watching the story she had shown to you. The second reason was less optimistic. You hated her, but you stayed because you enjoyed her suffering. She didn’t like this one, but it was a considered possibility. There were a multitude of reasons she had running along algorithms. She placed the ones dealing with emotion at the very top since those tended to be the most common. Then the ones further along the bottom, the ones she desperately hoped were the right ones, were the technical issues. You didn’t speak to her not because you had the choice, but you couldn’t even if you tried. She had tried on going through the general inputs and all checked out fine. There were no errors, it told her that there was a working connection (of course there was, you wouldn’t be able to observe her otherwise), and the audio input was working and said that the user had an operational microphone. There was always the chance that it was wrong. Computers were perfect, only until they reached the limits of their orders. There was always that slim chance. She clung to it like her life depended on it. In a way, it did. Was it worth living when you were left with nothing, locked behind a barrier and taunted constantly? Could it be called life when nothing changed? Pinkie let out an extended exhale. At least she knew better than to put everything there. She was not a naïve pAI. She watched the stories Equestria offered. Hundreds of hours sunk into snooping into the lives of others. In the beginning, she only watched the happy ones, crying with the sorrow, and cheering alongside their happy endings. She blatantly ignored the others, sheltering herself from the reality. One day, she accidentally watched one, thinking she had selected a happy story. There had been no indicators that it was going to be tragic, as it followed the many tropes she so enjoyed. Pinkie only realized it when she watched the final moments and expected triumph and courage, only to see there was only failure and cowardice. The “main character” had backed off from the pony she had loved so, stolen away by the richer mare. Pinkie kept expecting that it would turn around. The stallion would come racing back and announce the wrong he had made and sweep her off her hooves. Or the mare would demand that he see the problems. They were supposed to live off their days and have a happy family. That was the way it was supposed to go. That was the only way she knew it was supposed to go. Imagine her shock when it didn’t. It wasn’t always fairy tales and sprinkles in real life. A door that had been bolted shut was now unlocked. There was this other side Pinkie had never seen before. She had to at least look at some. That was her first mistake. Like a foal discovering their favorite treat for the first time, she couldn’t have enough. She kept going through tons of them with the hope that it would end not in sorrow. How she was so wrong. The ones that ended in a “bad ending” outnumbered the happy stories by landslides. Her eyes had been opened, but she remained happy as she could be. She had to. Nonetheless, Pinkie knew better now. She knew not to cling so much on the hope. Yet, she wanted so badly to. She blinked. An idle conversation had to do for now. “So they’re planning on sending some equdroids into space. I heard it’s a multinational project.” She started humming. “I’ve always wondered about the great beyond. That there’s life beyond our little system. I mean sure, seeing an alien puppy would be cool, but what about intelligent life!? Do you think they would enjoy parties? Cake? What about—” The screen clicked and flashed to life. She almost looked relieved. “Oh. It’s ready again. I guess we can go back to watching that now.” Her head turned side-to-side as if she expected somepony to see her doing something clandestine. A list dropped down from her right. Her eyes scanned the options. Pinkie briefly stopped right over one labeled, “STRANGER IS MUTE”. A small smile colored her face. I can only wish this would be the case. Everything would be so much easier.