//------------------------------// // Is There Intelligent Life Out There? (No). // Story: Team Quantum // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// Twilight had only just shut her bed chamber’s door behind her when she first noticed the beeping. Instantly, she crossed the room to ferret around under the bed. Thus she drew out the saddlebag-shaped device beeping like crazy. A tiny radar dish on top rotated madly. The monitor on one side flashed on and off in an electronic fit. Although the Equiverse project was nominally about exploring the nature and physics and cosmology of the multiverse, one of the first things it had discovered, as it happened, was trouble. The multiverse leaked. It had only started as soon as it had been discovered, and had prompted a lot of sarcastic smugness in dozens of editorials across the city, as though every copy editor had seen this exact scenario coming a decade ago and couldn’t believe scientists were that dumb. To prove otherwise, she’d made this device – strictly speaking, she’d drawn up the blueprints and commissioned it. What it did was bleep whenever a leak happened. If it was bleeping madly, then there was enough leakage to drop an elephant in the city. Twilight summoned the rest of her kit at once. She didn’t bother to check. She simply shot out of the door, all four legs a blur. Twice, she tumbled and fell into an instantly raised net. Struggling out of each net, she growled. No harm was done, except to time, and at least broken bones could heal. Halfway across the courtyard, she heard Trixie’s pants draw up alongside. “I knew this would happen!” yelled Trixie. “As soon as I saw you galloping away, I knew the day was going to start with a bang!” “I hope not!” yelled Twilight. “Neither do I! Let’s make this quick, OK!?” The porters made a half-hearted attempt to block their way, but one of the few perks about being Twilight was a certain tendency for others to assume she knew her business better than they did. Trixie flashed them a grin on their way out. Across the main street… Twilight weaved among the parked carts and running foals. Down the main boulevard… “Trixie! Where’s it pointing now!?” Falling back, Trixie turned her head to check the device strapped to Twilight’s side. “Left. Then right.” They galloped through back alleys. Buildings around them squatted with quiet baroque dignity, none of them daring to be so uncouth as to rise higher than three storeys. Far behind, Twilight’s tower was an obvious exception. Just as Twilight’s body started to complain about the strain, she and Trixie rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. By now, the beeping had rapidly risen to a shrieking hum. Trixie reached across and switched it off. Both of them stood panting and staring. “My… goodness,” said Trixie. In midair, a window to another sky was open. Purple and pink blazed under a galaxy of stars. One coin-sized planet glowed like an orange moon among them. Around the leakage, the air of Twilight’s world shimmered and rippled as though someone were strumming the surface of a lake. Twilight’s breath came back. “They’re getting bigger. I’ve never seen one this size. Imagine what we could learn from –” “Ahem. Time and place, Twilight?” “Oh. Right. You’re right. Time and place. Yeah.” As one, they leaned to the side, looking around the leakage. “You don’t suppose,” said Trixie carefully, “that one of them came through again? Do you? By any chance?” “You mean the Pacifiers?” Trixie gulped. Twilight shrugged. “I don’t rule them out.” For that was another thing they were learning fast about the multiverse. It wasn’t entirely unoccupied. Although that said, it would have been a bit more dignified if they’d been occupied by anything intelligent. So many scientists had hoped to embark on a brave new quest beyond their pale blue dot that they had assumed great wonders beyond their own tiny little world. Oh, Pacifiers wanted to be intelligent. They probably thought they were dangerous. They certainly would have liked Trixie, if indeed they were capable of anything as intellectual as “liking”. But after the initial shock had died down… “You wait here,” said Twilight. “I’ll have a look in that building over there.” “Which building?” Twilight rolled her eyes. “The one with the gigantic hole in the side.” After a moment’s staring, Trixie followed this up with the following brave suggestion: “How about I stay here and guard the leakage? In case any more come through.” “It’s already shrinking. They never last long. You know that.” “It’s got to be worth a try.” Twilight gave up. She knew Trixie had potential inside her for great things. Only sometimes, “knew” seemed the wrong word. “Suspected”, maybe. Or “wanted to believe”. And Pacifiers weren’t that bad. The city had come to accept they were going to pop up now and then. No one blamed the Equiverse project, at least not publicly. Twilight stepped around the shimmering, rippling air. Overhead, the window was already shrinking to the point where only a horseshoe could fit through it. From her other saddlebag – the one without the radar dish revolving like crazy on top – she carefully levitated another device. This one looked at first glance like a blunderbuss. That is, except for the diodes and pipes sticking out of it, of course, and for the long tube connecting the rear to her saddlebags. Another device of her own make – or rather, of her own design and commission. It was non-lethal. She’d insisted. Admittedly, at the time she hadn’t faced a gigantic hole in the side of a building, but surely the principle was sound. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through. On the other side of the wall, the room was an inviting orange. The room, in fact, was a gigantic henhouse. At least, it looked like one. The biggest difference – at least, the second biggest difference – was that the rows of nests were bigger than what she might have expected from such a place. Big enough, as it were, for hens the size of ostriches. The actual biggest difference was the type of hen it stocked. It didn’t. They were all cockatrices. Calmly, quietly, without indicating at any point that she was anything but a harmless stray not wanting any trouble, Twilight turned around and focused on her magic. She made sure the glow on her horn was not remotely offensive. Bits of broken wood and steel rose off the floor and filled up the gaping hole. Soon, it was as if the wall had never been broken at all. Perhaps even now, Trixie was sighing with relief. Anything trying to sneak out would have a harder job of doing so. Hundreds of eyes, row upon row of evil red eyes, focused on Twilight as she stepped forwards. She held her breath. “Nice cock-cock-cockatrices,” she whispered under her breath. “Good cock-cock-cockatrices.” Frenzied clucking broke out here and there. “Don’t mind me,” she whispered, feeling a drop of sweat wipe down the side of her face. “I’m passing through. There’s a good cock-cock-cockatrice.” One pair of eyes shone briefly. At once, Twilight looked away. When she glanced back, the glow had dwindled. She let out a breath. A more enterprising cockatrice leaped down and barred her way. Twilight stopped moving at once. The creature narrowed its eyes. Hoping her memory wouldn’t fail her, Twilight slowly and deliberately lowered herself to a kneel. A cockatrice considered itself the king of beasts. Dealing with one was not entirely dissimilar to dealing with Trixie. She bowed her head low. Clucking critically, the cockatrice thumped forwards. She felt a peck on her scalp: too gentle to cause pain, but too sharp to get her hopes up. Finally, a wing batted her across the face and the cockatrice leapt up and out of her path. Every clumsy flap whooshed through the air. Slowly and deliberately, she rose onto her hooves again. Then she turned and saw the statues. Pacifiers were not pretty at the best of times. At first glance, and if the viewer were severely concussed, they might look like ponies. At least, they had four obvious legs, hoof-like endings to match, and a broadly pony torso and head. There the comparison ended. The frontmost legs were actually two pairs, but smashed so tightly together that they looked like one pair of bulky limbs. All of these appendages ended not in traditional pony hooves but in elephantine toes. And what pony, after all, had green, leathery skin, eyes on stalks, and tentacles for ears? Even their mouths looked wrong, having far too much underbite and teeth that were far too sharp. They couldn’t close the jaws at all. They also wore armour and had laser blasters attached to their cheeks like tusks. No one said Pacifiers looked classy. In fact, they looked like something out of a cheap sci-fi magazine. It offended scientific sensibility; who in their right mind would want to be known for discovering something that could be found in “Tales of Pulpy Horror! Volume Two”? These thirteen statues, on the other hoof, looked extremely lifelike. Twilight stepped carefully around them. Cockatrices demanded respect at the best of times, partly because that was the only way to get the prized eggs just right, but mostly because a cockatrice did not sulk and write stroppy little letters if it didn’t get what it wanted. Certainly, no Pacifier would be smart enough to know that. Something hit the ground with a thud. Twilight spun round. Beyond these rows of cockatrice nests was a large gateway. Beyond the opening, she could see yet more nests. The cockatrice houses belonged to a thriving business. As far as low-skill jobs went, tending them was apparently a pretty good gig, provided you did nothing to get yourself turned into stone. At least it was lucrative, and they had a decent union. Twilight stepped towards the gateway and cocked an ear. More thuds came through the timber. They were too heavy for a lone cockatrice, and the creatures weren’t usually that badly coordinated. Gingerly, she stepped through. A hulking figure was obviously standing on a beam overhead. She could see bits sticking out. Pacifiers were dumb. This one might be bright enough not to end up as a spontaneous work of art, but this pathetic ambush attempt didn’t speak well of its tactical thinking. “I know you’re there,” Twilight called out, pretending not to have noticed exactly where it was. Overhead, the hulking figure froze. “BRR KIBUB BRR!” it said. Twilight rubbed her face. No tactical thinking whatsoever. “Right, since no one else is here… I’d like something clarified, if you don’t mind.” “WHAAAAAH! WHAAAAAH!” “You always try and get me,” she said loudly. “Ever since the Equiverse project began. I don’t suppose you could tell me why?” “WURPUR SCHLUBB BAKAAARP!” True, they did seem strangely intent on tracking her down. It wasn’t a matter of where they popped up; leakages from the other side of the city usually meant ponies would spot the Pacifiers running straight for the university anyway. All the lucky ones who got that far usually went straight for the tower. Sadly, no one had ever found out what they would do once they caught up with Twilight, because they were so dumb even bystanders could outsmart them, never mind the local peacekeepers. It had to be said, but she didn’t hold out much hope. “By the authority of the Princess Regent vested in me, I extend to you the hoof of friendship. If you accept, we would be willing to negotiate good terms with your species. I mean you no ill will.” “BLADDAWADDA PFFT!” “I hope that means ‘yes, please’.” The Pacifier leaped. The manoeuvre was flat-out embarrassing. The creature simply threw itself away from the beam and then dropped down and bounced on its own fat. Around it, the cockatrices squawked and flapped restlessly. Both lasers glowed. Contrary to received wisdom, Twilight stood stock still and made herself as obvious a target as possible. The lasers fired. Brilliant reds splattered the world. Bursts of frenzied heat punched through the woodwork. Shots sliced through nails and reduced them to clouds of fillings. Everything had the intensity and speed of a shotgun crossed with a discotheque and competing against fireworks. Finally, the barrage fizzled out. Dead centre of a mass of splinters, burns, smoking bits, and drifting clouds of pulverized sawdust, Twilight remained standing. She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t give that an F.” And she raised the blunderbuss. The lasers on either side of the beast’s head charged up again. This was the point of no return; once a Pacifier had got the idea of shooting into its thick head, it never stopped. Now it was Twilight’s turn to fire. The inter-continuum charger – thus far concealed within the barrel – now hummed under the immense pressure. The pipe connecting this device to her saddlebag bulged as though swallowing lumps of food the wrong way. Diodes blinked. Transport between universes had so far been extremely limited, but one thing Twilight had found was that things coming from another universe elsewhere could all too easily be knocked back through. And since Pacifiers were, at best, a nuisance to be studied later, she felt no guilt in preparing a return trip for this one. If anything, it was an act of mercy. She might have done the job smoothly, if it hadn’t been for the cockatrices. Squawking, screeching, spitting, and smacking their wings together, the flock burst out on either side like living walls collapsing. The Pacifier yelped with shock and was instantly buried under a mob of feathers and scales. Eyes glowed fiery red – Twilight slammed her eyelids shut and turned away. Her blunderbuss fell silent. Occasionally, a stray tail or wing clipped her front. She sensed the excitement had died down, and turned to look. Another Pacifier statue lay on the ground. Its face – insofar as she could tell from the stalk eyes and underbite – bloomed with surprise. White feathers and… other white things suggested some of the cockatrices had gotten really excited. “I tried,” she said to the statue. “Don’t say I didn’t try.” Another mystery left unresolved. She hated that lack of closure. As for the Pacifiers… she wanted to feel sorry for them. She really did. But they were so unerringly, disappointingly, almost offensively dumb. She magically fixed the ravaged wall behind her. Even their lasers were simply no match for her magical talents. What a waste. So where did they get their lasers from? she wondered. They don’t seem capable of making the things themselves. That means someone else must be doing their work. Maybe there are intelligent beings out there after all. She dismissed this at once. Who’d be smart enough to invent lasers, and then dumb enough to give them to Pacifiers? Nonetheless, today clearly wasn’t her day. Grateful, she stepped out and back into what passed for normal life. Dully, she noticed the leakage had long since evaporated. Trixie was waiting right outside and almost bumped into her. “I heard them shooting at you! Are you –!?” “Disappointed? Absolutely. Now that that’s been squandered, I need to work overtime to make up for the last few minutes I’ve just wasted. Then I’ll have to let the local authorities know so they can send someone to take the statues away. That’s going to waste even more time. And I still have no idea who the Pacifiers are and why they’re so badly trying to shoot me full of lasers if they’re not even smart enough to invent the things! One of them tried to ambush me! I’ve seen buildings pull off better ambushes than that!” She barely noticed her own legs pumping furiously, or the windows and doors rushing past. Trixie had to canter to keep up with Twilight walking fast. “Uh…” said Trixie. “Now I’ve got to see how the project’s getting on, and then there’s the meeting with the Application Committee, and then the Princess Regent wants to see me over the effects this project may have on the city! I promised I’d make it on time! Why doesn’t life fit into a neat schedule!?” “Twilight, it occurs to me that, um…” “I just want to be left alone! Why do I have to meet so many ponies who have to be told all these things!? Uh…” Her tirade screeched with the effort of backpedalling. “I mean, I like meeting these ponies. I’ve got nothing against them, I swear. It’s just I’ve got so much work to do. Sorry, Trixie, did you say something?” Growling, Trixie turned her head away. “Nothing important, I suppose.” Until they reached the main gates of their college, Twilight said nothing. Only once they were close enough to have to wave their badges at the porters did Twilight dare to speak. “I didn’t mean anything by it. All that stuff is just work. It’s not a privilege. It’s a responsibility.” Trixie raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “What? But didn’t you imply –?” “It’s frankly touching that you remembered to honour your parents’ wishes and avoid hurting anyone’s feelings, but the Great and Powerful Trixie is not some baby wanting mommy to coddle her. Or to be ‘told all these things’. Now, assuming you’ve finished detailing your busy social schedule, Trixie has her own responsibilities to attend to.” Muzzle up in the air, Trixie made for the nearest building. Utterly confused, Twilight stumbled after her, fending off queries from excited porters eager to hear about her latest adventure. They always did that. She hated seeing Trixie this way. They’d come from the same town, after all. They’d even been to the same magic kindergarten, and had basically grown up together. If not for the letters from home, Trixie would be her last link to the past. “Wait!” she called after her. This was not how the morning was going to end. Trixie cast a “Well, what do you want?” look over her shoulder. “If Lyra and the others find anything fun to do,” Twilight said in a rush, “I’d like you to come along with me. Us. I mean, with us. My treat? Maybe?” Trixie hummed and hawed, but more to save face than anything. Long years together had taught Twilight what that meant. “Maybe Trixie shall accept, and maybe she shan’t,” was the spoken answer. “Depends how she feels nearer the time.” After translating this to get the real answer, Twilight relaxed. Balance had been restored. “Thanks,” she said. “And I really am sorry.” No comment. They parted company. Twilight Sparkle, Postdoctoral Researcher on the Esteemed Unicornian Scholarship Fund, Head of the newly coined Equiverse Committee, and arguably the greatest faculty member the University of Eohippus ever had… went back to her tower to pick up more of her kit. Before she departed again, she removed the Smarty Pants doll from her bed, tidied up the corner, and shoved the doll underneath She couldn’t do much about the books, though, but personality and style would have to wait for another day. For when she felt like having any.