//------------------------------// // Chapter 40 // Story: Voyage of the Equinox // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Go left regardless of context or apparent dangers. 66% Applejack’s eyes narrowed as Twilight fought with her crowbar on the entrance to the service stairwell. A layer of creamy white film had formed over the doorway, and she had to work the prying end of the crowbar along the edge, working it gently as the metal started to give. “So… let me get this straight…” Applejack repeated. “We’re not going to try an’ fix up one of the here automated chariots and fly there. Instead we’re going… left.” “Right.” Twilight grunted, then pushed with her magic. The door flexed a little in the doorway, bending around where she’d slipped in the handle. “Because Pinkie Pie said a few words about it.” “Yes.” “Even though she couldn’t see that friendly ramp going straight down towards our destination. Even though she doesn’t have Node with her telling us that the ramp is probably the way.” “Yep.” A little more pressure, and she could almost… yes! There was a screech of metal, and a burst of compressed air from the tube. Dirt and debris blasted away from them, but it was nowhere even strong enough to push the cart. It also didn’t last—just a few seconds, and the flow of air seemed to have reversed direction, with a breeze carrying past them into the tube. “It’s not rational, cap. I know you put good stock in that pony’s intuition, but there’s no magic in a guess. It’s just a guess. And she’s got way less to judge on than we do.” “I know,” Twilight said, sliding the crowbar back onto their cart. “But Pinkie Pie’s intuition has never led me wrong before. This is our first opportunity, before this it was all straight lines and ramps. Now we have a left turn, we’re taking it. Just watch it pay off.” “I’m watching all right,” Applejack said, eyeing the shadowy interior of the tunnel. It rose above them, with a ceiling high above even the tallest ponies and a set of steps just barely close enough for ponies to walk. Any taller and they’d have to jump from step to step, who knew how far. “But just so we’re clear about this, Cap. If there’s anything even looks at us funny, we come back up and try my way. Yeah?” Twilight hesitated. She knew better than just say what her crew wanted to hear, particularly around Applejack. A pony who knew how to keep her own promises would also hold Twilight to any she made. It wouldn’t be just words. “We’ll reevaluate our decision if we encounter anything dangerous,” Twilight said. “But we haven’t seen any sign of danger on this planet so far. Whatever threat was once here seems long gone. Maybe the ponies with them.” “I sure hope so, Twi. I hope so.” Then she hesitated, glancing past Twilight. “Wait just a gosh darned minute, Cap. We don’t have to hope. Node, you tell us! This planet’s yers, right? So is it safe or ain’t it?” Node beeped cheerfully in response, its voice coming over the radio with minimal delay. “Safety relative to the fathomless abyss—high. Safety relative to unknown homeworld of equine creatures—low.” “See!” Applejack pointed an accusatory hoof. “This is a trap, ain’t it? You lured us here so you could blow us up!” “Applejack!” Twilight glowered, pushing past her engineer. She almost cut her right off the radio. She might’ve, except that she cared more about making sure Node got a better idea of their species. “We don’t really think that, Node.” “Judgement is… valued,” Node answered. “Destruction of visitor ship trivial computation problem. Not desirable. Node and visitors presently… jointly interdicted. Alien survival is my function. Desire to continue functioning is… extant.” Twilight turned. “See, it just… this is an old city, Applejack. Even if there were never any weapons here it might be dangerous to us. Gas leaks, machinery still working, structural collapse. That’s what Node means, isn’t it?” But the drone didn’t respond. Its screen had it up a solid white—a sign that they were not likely to hear more from it in the near future. Twilight thought it meant whoever was speaking through it was out of range, though there was another explanation, equally likely albeit more disturbing. It might be processing their responses. They passed into the stairs, leaving their carefully marked open ramp behind. Twilight had no choice but to levitate the entire cart behind them—a minor annoyance, except that it was slowly eroding at her magical power. Do Pinkie Pie's directions refer to their first left? Yes Twilight kept her eyes on the little numbers slowly scrolling by on her helmet, watching for them to approach the same z-level as the indicated delivery target. At least her fears that the shaft might be filled with corpses was in vain. There was nothing at all in here, except for what looked like lighting or computer fixtures that no longer worked, and faded alien writing they couldn’t read. If Node could, it didn’t respond to requests for help, and they were forced to continue on. On and on and on, for hours. Twilight found herself taking more frequent breaks, stopping to rest her magic and let her headache fade. The trip probably would’ve been over in under an hour otherwise. That was about the time they realized that they’d passed out of radio range of the Prospector, and Applejack finally put her hoof down. “Alright,” she said. “We went left. We went… down. How far?” Twilight shrugged. “Something like… three kilometers.” “As in… further away than a straight line from our destination?” Applejack raised her voice, just a little. “As in, couldn’t possibly be going the right way anymore?” Twilight winced, but even as she formed her response, the words already sounded stupid. “Sloping down like this… the only doors are on the right.” “Alright,” Applejack stepped sideways, blocking the way down. “Alright, cap. I reckon we’ve gone far enough fer one day. Figure… maybe suit air is getting to ‘ya. Either that, or…” She winced, looking away. But Twilight could guess what she was thinking, even if Applejack was too professional to say. It was time to make another choice. 1. Set up the emergency shelter right in the stairs and get a rest cycle in. We’re most of the way there already. We just need some sleep, and we can tackle this fresh in the morning. 2. Go back to the surface right now and try Applejack’s idea. This was a stupid idea. I can’t believe I trusted an almost insane pony who sent a message over the radio without even seeing this. We could keep walking until we get to the core of this damn planet. At least that way we can sleep with metal around us instead of plastic. 3. Push through any tiredness and try to find the way through right now. We can’t be far from our destination now. Hoping for the stairs to end was obviously silly, but we could go back up a bit until elevation is right and try a door. See where that takes us. 4. Leave the probe behind right here and get back to the Prospector. Close enough! You can walk the rest of the way! (Confidence 205 required)