Gravity smiled, her eyes still closed, and picked up all six of the Stones. Next to her, Fusion slept, oblivious to what she'd been doing all this time. The rush of power, familiar from previous nocturnal missions, was quickly ignored. I told you I'd be back for you, Salrath. Fusion thinks you are dead, burned in the ruins of Naraka. If you think I'll let you kill yourself, you are very much mistaken. All her other preparations were complete, things done at great distance or in little bits of time stolen when Fusion was busy or distracted. Sister, you wouldn't understand.
Carefully, she stood and quietly walked away, leaving Fusion alone on the high altitude meadow. She dusted the area with tripwire magics, things that would alert her if Fusion awoke or was approached. She stepped to the edge of the dropoff, the spread her wings and jumped, gliding silently down into the darkness. When the distance was great enough, she vanished in a flash of violet light--
~~~discontinuity~~~
===
There was a flash of light, bright enough to be dazzling even through Salrath's closed eyelids. She flinched, then held still. The grid-work deckplates, padded with spare sets of body armour, were gone, replaced by smooth, cold stone. Heart racing, the Agent remained curled in the position she'd been, feigning sleep. The air smelled different, cleaner and colder, with a musty tang and overlain with the slightly herbal scent of pony. It was a pony she recognized: not Fusion Pulse, but its sister.
Salrath inhaled sharply, turning the audible breath into a sleepy sigh, as she remembered the last time she'd seen Gravity Resonance. Muzzle twisted in rage, irresistible magic slamming her against the wall over and over again until bones broke and she passed out. Throat suddenly dry, Salrath tried to swallow, then grunted as something hard struck her in the ribs, all the air rushing out of her lungs.
"I know you are awake, Agent. Rise and shine, time to smell the ashes of the fires you lit." There was a smile in that voice, the words coloured by a vindictive joy. "This has to be an improvement over that gunship." A sound of something scraping on stone, and through slitted eyes Salrath saw the hoof draw back for another kick.
With a convulsive jerk, she rolled away and came up on one knee. Eyes wide, she looked wildly from side to side, taking in the vaulted ceiling and tall, close-packed shelves stacked with anonymous packing crates. The only source of light was the pony's horn, a deep violet radiance that was hard to focus upon and created deep, impenetrable shadows. The style of the boxes was familiar: drab grey and with ridges designed for easy stacking, they were all marked with code references and terse descriptions of their contents. This is a military supply chamber.
The pony stood a few paces away and looked down at her with every evidence of happiness. Why has the pony pulled this one out of-- A sudden sensation of dread made Salrath's empty stomach twist. "This one is no Agent, she is Rinchur. This one thanks the pony for saving--"
"Oh, shut up. I am inside your head, Salrath. You cannot lie to me." Gravity cocked her head, lips drawing back from large, blunt teeth. Liquid darkness spread out from her like a pool, fighting with the already dim hornlight. "You are unbelievable, Agent, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I always knew you were far worse than the typical dog, even before I got into your head. How have you been sleeping lately?" Its smile grew, the violet shadows sharpening its teeth.
Salrath shuddered, then her ears flattened and she drew her lips back to expose stained teeth. "Get out of this one's mind, pony!"
"Oh no, Agent, I don't think so. With all the damage you've done, I thought you and I needed to have a little chat."
Violet telekinesis wrapped itself around Salraths's head, dragging her forwards. Paws scrabbling at the ground and pulled off balance, she fought the pull but did little more than hurt the muscles in her neck. Muzzle to muzzle, Gravity turned her head slightly from one side to another, studying her like she was livestock. Salrath tried to claw at the pony's eyes and face, but her paws were held at bay, by more magic.
"Stuck underground all this time... I wonder if you know what the world looks like now?"
There was a pressure inside her head, a sense of violation as something irresistible imposed itself on her mind. Memories of things Salrath had never seen, never even thought about, appeared fresh and perfectly clear in the centre of her awareness. The bright flashes of countless nuclear explosions and asteroid impacts, forests and farmland burning under a soot-black sky.
Salrath shook her head, but it was like she was encased in armourcrete. Her jaws were free, so instead she snarled and snapped, trying bite Gravity's muzzle. The telekinesis shifted, holding her jaws shut and only permitting a muffled growl. She struggled against the magic, trying to find some way to strike at the pony.
Gravity's smile vanished and she scowled. "You just don't care, do you? Your world is gone!"
This one hopes the pony's family burned slowly when the corrals were nuked. She couldn't spit the words in Gravity's face, but put as much venom and hate into the thought as she could manage. The pony's kind will go extinct just like everyone else--
Desolation, a sudden sense of horror from a million minds, trapped, buried, burned or blasted, settled on Salrath; the feeling of a whole world screaming and thrashing as it died. Eyes wide and staring out into cramped and broken spaces filled with the not-quite-dead, she went limp, her ears and tail drooping.
"Oh, you finally felt something, did you?" The pony pushed her away, hard enough to make her crash into the nearest crate. "Without you, none of this would have happened, you know that? When you had the corral under Arclight suppression and half-killed my dam, you showed everypony what the rule of the Masters was really like. Think how much harder it would have been to convince everypony without that." Salrath's lips curled into the start of a snarl, then Gravity pushed her again. "She's been healed and survived everything you dogs could throw at us. You failed at everything."
Staring back at her, Salrath's shoulders slumped. "Kill this one, then," she spat. "Or Salrath will do it herself."
Force fields flashed and Gravity cut away a sliver of a packing crate, fashioning it into a stubby blade and throwing it at Salrath's paws. The shard had the liquid edge of something truly sharp and she snatched it up, holding it to her own throat. "Salrath won't let the pony torment her." The muscles of her arm bulged, but the knife didn't move, just vibrated slightly. Gasping, she dropped it. "What has the pony done?"
"You don't think I'll allow you the easy way out, do you?" Gravity's smile returned and became wide and lazy. "I told you I've been inside your head." She waved a wing, taking in the endless shelves. "This is a supply bunker for one of the shelters. The shelter didn't make it, but by some fluke this chamber did. It's isolated by hundreds of lengths of collapsed tunnels. I may have also fused quite a lot of the rock, just to make sure."
"Why?" Anger gone, the fear and helplessness nearly overwhelming, Salrath felt the matted fur bristling along her neck, She looked around frantically, finally understanding why she was here.
"You are going to live for a very, very long time, Agent," Gravity said, her gentle tone belying her savage expression. Salrath started to back away, her tail tucked between her legs. "I've been in your head, but I've also been in Fusion's and my dam's. If you thought your dreams were bad before, just remember that I know what you did, and what it felt like..." Her voice lowered, becoming a whispery hiss, and her violet hornlight turned her eyes into shadowed pits.
--a sense debilitating terror. There was a shadowy figure standing over her, something sharp held too close to focus on, then pain and the feeling of incredible loss--
--fear and a desperate hope, the need to know overwhelming every warning caution. Words, cruel and barbed, the worst possible news, then impacts on her wings and the splintering of delicate bones. Pain, more pain than she could bear, but never the blessed release of oblivion--
Salrath finally screamed, and kept screaming even as the pony vanished with a thump and a flash of violet light, leaving her in darkness.
===
~~~discontinuity~~~
--wings flicking out, Gravity soared above the valley, coming down a few lengths from Fusion. Her sister looked up, yawning. "You're up early." She stretched, eyes drawn to the eastern sky and Celestia just below the horizon.
Gravity smiled, and in her head watched as Salrath shakily got to her paws and ran, desperately searching the bunker for some way out. "Just felt the need to stretch my wings, Fusion. You know how much I love an early morning. Oh, I sent out the dream to everypony... shall we get started on that shield?"
===
The world spun below his hooves, like somepony was levitating a ball as he flew overhead. It was definitely the world, Modulus recognised it from the broad-brush images used as part of the weather team pathfinding, but the spin was far too fast. Once a breath the world spun, ordered curls of cloud churning and boiling like flames.
Points of light bloomed, like a pawful of metal filings thrown into a fire, across the surface, knocking holes in the clouds and throwing trails of dark dust into the air. Bigger flashes, each at the end of a streak of light, were scattered across the continents, lofting more dust. A sudden scribble of violet laser-points, concentrated on specific zones and leaving behind black lines.
Modulus felt the clouds, felt with an intense certainty that they had been made dense by gigatonnes of fine particles, felt them settle like a blanket over the world. Unlike the blanket his dam had used when he was very young, this didn't keep the world warm, but kept the heat out. The cold gripped every part of him, leaching down to his bones and freezing--
The view flipped, taking Modulus down through the atmosphere and dropping him in an achingly-familiar valley, the sward covered by the sleeping bodies of ponies he half-knew. He looked for his dam, but she wasn't there; intruding thoughts of heat and fire and a crushing weight on his chest drove him to his knees and made tears spring run down his muzzle.
Something reached in, a sudden sensation of mass and violet glare, squeezing the pain away and hiding it behind an impenetrable barrier. Tears forgotten, Modulus looked up in wonder at the snow-laden clouds hanging pregnant and seemingly close enough to touch. A point of white-gold light flashed directly above, expanding out into a disk that extended from horizon to horizon, clearing the sky and--
Space again, the world a dirty white globe of cloud with only a few, fleeting gaps, spinning even faster than before. There was a difference: in one hemisphere, halfway to the pole, was a disk of clear ground only lightly covered with cloud and ringed with the same white-gold. Around this oasis the dust-contaminated atmosphere boiled, clearing slightly with every rapid rotation. Time passed, hundreds and hundreds of rotations, until the skies cleared all over the world. The circle blinked out and--
--gasping, Modulus struggled to his hooves, wildly looking all around. Other ponies, the ones he'd met when he'd been taken from the suffocating darkness and the silent body of--
He whinnied, shaking off the memory with hard and fast breaths. "What was that?" he gasped, legs trembling.
"The darkness, the world..." Sidereal, a heavily-built grey-coated stallion, moaned, getting to his own hooves. "...what a vivid dream."
Modulus stared at him, as did the other closest ponies. "What did you say? You dreamed about the world, covered in cloud?" Now he was the centre of attention, a circle of stunned faces. "You too?" he said weakly, suddenly self-conscious. "It must be magic, it must be those two!"
"Won't they leave us alone?" Sidereal growled. "Isn't destroying the world once enough for them?"
A wave of sadness passed over Modulus, nearly as intense than the loss of his dam. I didn't even get a chance to be Blessed. "But... why? Why send all of us this dream?" It must be everypony, he thought, watching similar intense conversations occurring as far as he could see.
"I think it's about the weather," Sidereal said slowly. "I was weather team, and you can't throw this much dust into the air without consequences. Reflects too much sunlight. Impact winter, I've heard it called. We've all seen them do things around these mountains, holding back the storms."
"More and more," Modulus muttered, attracting nods from his new herd. "I think they are showing us all what they plan to do, to build a shield that will keep out the cold and the dust."
Sidereal snorted, pawing at the ground. "They want us alive and trapped, so they can be masters over us. I won't have it."
That doesn't seem right, Modulus thought, but kept the idea to himself in the face of the angry muttering. There have been no orders, and I've not even seen them close up since they pulled me out of the rubble.
There was a flash of white-gold overhead, and it came as no surprise to anypony when the light spread from horizon to horizon, settling like a layer of gauze across the sky. There was a deep sound, the tolling of a bell the size of an arcology, more felt as movement in the air than heard, and the ground shivered slightly under his hooves.
===
The wind rippled the fur on Ellisif's belly, for once unimpeded by a layer of armour. So nice just to fly, she thought, then felt obscurely guilty at enjoying it so much when all the ponies were forever rendered flightless. The dirty clouds were far below her paws, with only the tops of the taller mountains poking through. The cleared area of the ponies' domain was on the horizon, a surreal patch of green laced by grey rock.
"Are you sure we are far enough away?" she muttered into her command collar, casting one eye back to the gunship that was shadowing her. This was one of the electronic warfare versions, packed with sensors and ECM, flown by a quartet of combat engineers who'd pretty much begged to be allowed to watch.
"Should be," the voice came back, with less certainty than Ellisif would have liked to hear.
Right. How much longer--? There was a warble in her earpiece, the sound of an alarm in the gunship's cockpit.
"Thaumic alarm!" Baugr said, the excitement obvious. "By the Maker, I'm seeing an exponential rate-of-rise and it's still going! Standby." There was more excited chatter, but Ellisif ignored it.
A thin line of white-gold spread across the sky, far higher than Ellisif's flight altitude, slowly growing thicker. Roof of the dome-- The glow abruptly slammed down, changing from a horizontal bar to a vertical wall that cut the world in two. Far off to each side, it seemed to curve inwards, ever so slightly.
"How far?" It looked close enough to touch, but the distance was impossible to judge, even by gryphon eye.
"Three kilolengths, give or take," Baugr said, sounding distracted.
Ellisif wheeled about, heading for the gunship's deployment hatch. "That will do," she said, curving around the ducted fan exhausts and alighting on the edge of the troop compartment. "Let's go home." Home, a new mountain fastness, one of a set of caverns hollowed from bare, high-altitude granite. There were a thousand things to do to ensure her people established themselves in this new world.
===
All six Stones circled Fusion's head, maintaining their precise positions as she gracelessly folded her legs and lay down, breathing heavily. She let the connection fade, turning them back to plain rocks and passing three back to Gravity. "That's it," she said. "I'll need to put in a little power every few tens of kiloseconds, but it's stable."
Gravity turned a slow circle. The edge of the field was too far away to see, lost in the atmospheric haze, while overhead it had faded to invisibility, only appearing in patches when some bit of infalling debris struck it. "Nice work," she said, smiling. "I won't be sorry to stop that weather control.”
"I'll tweak the solar input, to help with the grazing. Over this area the effects should be more predictable. Did you notice how fast the grass was growing?"
Gravity nodded. "Yes. Not quite as fast as the farms around the corral, but it does show that some of their magic has survived. There is some hope, at least."
"How long will it take, do you think?"
Gravity shrugged. "We can go out and check every so often, but you've covered enough area that there's no rush." She looked thoughtful, staring up at the sky. "I hope it's not more than a hundred megaseconds."
"Three winters..." Looking tired, Fusion sighed. "At least we can keep them safe until they have the skills to survive without magic."
===
Harq sniffed at the air, keen crystal eyes probing the horizon. There was a hint of radionuclides on the wind, a few counts per second of the particular kind he'd been hunting for ever since the breeding chamber stocks started to run low. The skies had cleared since the end of the orbital bombardment, almost thirty megaseconds ago, as the carbon soot and rock dust had settled out of the stratosphere. It was still cold, cold enough that out in the open he had to contract his thorium-cycle heart to keep the blood in his extremities molten.
Up ahead was the enrichment facility he'd been looking for, a task that would have taken seconds if he'd still had access to the military databases. That, and the voices that had cajoled, ordered or shouted before his every move, was gone. He didn't miss them, but the extra work had been frustrating. Crouched in a shallow scrape, wings furled and tail neatly coiled around his hindquarters, he studied the facility's surface installations. They were damaged, peppered by falling rock fragments and scorched on one side from the thermal flash of a nearby laser strike from the white pony, but nothing had actually scored a direct hit.
Harq watched a little longer, the cold, still air as clear as if it was at the border of space. Exhaust stacks and fine particle filters lay cracked open and ruined; this was the likely source of the nuclear material he'd sensed. It was perfect, except for... There was movement, bipedal figures and armoured vehicles, around the base. A military unit, cut off by the destruction of the general command, had found the place, no doubt because it was too inconsequential to have been on the strategic target lists.
There was a stirring under one of his wings, enough to jostle his head and disturb his view. Slowly pulling his neck in, he looked down and frowned. "Be still," he rumbled quietly, then shook his head and looked stern as the response came in a blip of radio. "Voice only, little one. Electromagnetic energy carries far more easily than sound."
The shape, a miniature version of his own form, shrank back a little, then looked up, her eyes glittering fiercely in the warm gloom under his wing. "Don't call me that!" High-pitched and full of anger, the voice was still quiet. "My name is Isha."
Harq smiled, showing a mouth full of obsidian teeth backlit by a glimmer of hard ultraviolet. "Quite right, Isha, I am sorry." It was obvious she was a little cold, struggling to maintain her heart's output above the point necessary to remain active. Higher was not be a problem, but her small size meant a relatively low thermal inertia, and little margin of error when at minimum power for stealth. "Not long now. Do you want to return to your sisters?"
"No!" Isha said loudly, then looked contrite as Harq flinched. "Sorry," she whispered. "No. I want to help."
There was an eagerness to every line of her sharp little body, her deep red scales flexing as she squirmed. You are so different from me, Harq thought. Finer features, with a longer tail but shorter, broader wings. And female, of course. The dogs make all their creatures able to breed, he thought, looking down at her with mixed feelings. High genetic diversity, the military Academicians had said, something that they had thought was very important. You are growing quickly... we must secure more food. Isha had already talked about having eggs of her own. Given her eagerness to do everything else, the idea was more than a little frightening; 'no' or 'later' would probably not be an option.
"You will," Harq said, jolted from his thoughts when Isha squirmed again. "There is a deep linear valley a quarter kilolength to the north." Lined with black basalt, long cooled from the weapon that had made it. Harq paused again, remembering the violet beams descending from a dim, mottled sun and scratching lines of fire across the land. He opened his mouth to tell Isha again, but she hadn't believed him last time, and shook his head. "Get into the valley and make your way down it until you are close to the facility."
Isha nodded, body warming as her heart contracted. There was a distinct prickle of gamma rays from her torso and blue ionisation licked from between her teeth. "Then I will attack--"
"After I give the signal!"
"--yes, yes. You said. Several times. I am to wait five seconds after you attack, then strike at their flank."
Harq sighed and lifted his wing to let Isha out. She wriggled away, disappearing over the crumbling, glassy ridge that lined the laser-gouged valley. I worry too much. There were three airtanks, all showing signs of battle damage, and a dozen cargo airtrucks in the convoy. They were hull down outside the facility, and had been for two days now, raiding the place for whatever it was that dogs wanted. Even without him, Isha would probably win the engagement. Probably.
He counted in his head, imagining Isha's progress, and worked his way to the top of the concealing scrape, limbs coiled and tense. Pressed flat against the ground, he was probably visible through the tanks' optics if they looked in the right direction, but so far--
A lithe shape darted towards the facility, spraying a jet of blue-white plasma at the closest airtruck. It was armoured, a military vehicle, and didn't explode like she'd probably expected. Inhaling sharply, Harq bit back a curse and jumped forwards, great, bounding leaps that turned into a mad gallop. Wings out, he took off, skimming over the scorched rubble and accelerating rapidly.
Ahead, the dogs were responding. They had people in the airtanks, and one immediately lifted on a blast of dust, its stubbly turret blinking open a wide, laser eye. The other two, heavier railgun units, were slower to respond and he ignored them, holding the breath next to the glassy organ in his throat. The U235 within flashed into vapour as his gas-core weapon reactor briefly went prompt critical before settling. The air in his gullet, already a plasma, reached temperatures high enough to shed soft X-rays.
Green light flashed from the first airtank, splashing a lurid glare of orange ionisation against Isha's flank. She screamed, twisting out of the beam and dropping into temporary cover behind one airtruck. Harq roared, jaws opening to spit out a plasma ring vortex at the laser vehicle. Guided by his power, it crossed the fast-reducing distance in less than a tenth of a second, striking it square amidships. The airtank exploded with a crack and a blue-white flash of broken superconductor, fragments of ceramic armour thrown in wide arcs.
The remaining tanks were moving now, focussed on him rather than Isha, and he spat twice more to turn them into burning ruins. Wings wide and braking furiously, he landed amid the airtrucks, striking out in all directions. The fight was short and brutal; without heavy weapons the dogs couldn't even hurt him. The final few tried to flee, and he looked on with silent approval as Isha chased them down and tore them apart.
She finally returned, eyes bright and body glowing in the high infrared, dragging one carcass with her. Some of her excitement faded at his expression. Silently, he inspected her injury; she'd lose a line of scales but the natural armour had done its job. "And what was today's lesson?" he asked, looming over her.
Isha cringed, joy evaporating in a sudden surge of obvious fear. "I... I didn't wait," she said, bowing her head. "That was stupid."
"Yes, it was," Harq rumbled, "we are tough but not indestructible." This was probably a better outcome than an outright victory, he thought, eyeing her critically, then nodding. "Remember this. I do not give you instruction just to make your life difficult." He gestured at the broken body she was still gripping in one foreclaw. "What do you plan to do with that?"
Isha looked down and made a humming noise, then looked up at him. "I can't eat it?"
"The armour might be useful, but not the dog. Too wet. Leave it," he said, gesturing to the facility's main entrance. The scent of useful radionuclides was stronger now, and most enticing. Obediently, she dropped the body and they both started to walk towards the big door. "There are much nicer things inside."
As they forced their way inside, Harq thought about the other eggs, now all hatched, and the younger females guarding the tiny infants. There's enough here for all of us, for a while. I'll need to find another den... It would have to be somewhere warm; the few isotopic incubators would not be sufficient for their burgeoning population. ...perhaps a volcano. There's bound to be some new ones after all those asteroid strikes.
===
Fusion shuffled her hooves, waiting in the dark. Her personal power was suppressed and her connection to Celestia shut off, leaving her mane its original pale pink. Will he come... what will he say? The question she'd asked Packet had been, at best, impertinent. Her hind quarters itched and she felt warm just thinking of him, the heavy muscles along his neck, the line of his muzzle--
She shook her head, dispelling the distracting daydream. Spiral did say that the first estrus would hit hard without the dog's breeding suppressors, once the seasons turned. I wonder if he'll even risk meeting me? Despite the desire and the shame and confusion associated with it, the need to know if there was a practical, organic way to rebuild ponykind overwhelmed everything.
I'm sure Grav has been trying something similar, she thought. Her sister hadn't said anything, and Fusion hadn't asked, but the smell of other, unfamiliar, ponies on her sister's coat could really only come from one thing. Must maintain genetic diversity, she thought firmly, the idea suddenly exciting, if this works I'm going to have to do this for the foreseeable future, with as many stallions as possible. Actually, it's a pity I'm not a stallion, things would be much faster!
The nearest group of ponies was several kilolengths away, far enough that only the faintest scent was carried on the breeze. Fusion stared into the darkness, but even with the faint meteor sky-glow there wasn't enough light to really see anything other than simple shades of grey. High above, the chaotic dance of debris ring objects had been tamed into elegant filigrees interspersed by delicate patches of gas.
She's getting better and better, Fusion thought, lost in the beauty of the night's sky. A genius, to turn a planetary defence task into a work of art... The pattern slowly changed as she watched, keeping her attention.
"Fusion," Packet said, looming out of the darkness. "Found you."
Fusion let out a little nicker of surprise, then turned to face him. "Don't sneak up on a pony!" she said. Especially as I might rip you in half by accident.
"Sorry," he said, not sounding particularly contrite. "Well, here we are."
"Yes, here we are." Fusion's voice was thin and high, even to her own ears. "Did you talk to Random? It's good the two of you are getting on so well... she deserves somepony special after all that was done to her." And what about me and all I've been through? We won, and that should have counted for something. The little voice in her head sounded bitter and jealous, enough to make her ears fold back before she could get control of her emotions.
Packet didn't notice, or at least didn't react. "Yes, she does. Most of the orphan foals have settled enough to look after themselves and spend most of their time in the education creche. She's... she's actually happy." He looked down at his hooves for a moment, then turned his head away, unable to keep the pride from his voice. "We're expecting our first sometime next year. "
Oh... that's torn it. A bitter taste filled Fusion's mouth and her stomach sank. He'll never agree now. "Congratulations!" The word came out like she was being strangled, and Packet looked at her sharply. "Sorry, things have been a little stressful lately. I just feel so... isolated." She gave him a wan smile, backing away with her wings half spread, ready for takeoff. "Thank you for coming to see me in person; it meant a lot." Perhaps Grav had the better idea, starting with a pony she'd never met. Her wings lifted and she crouched slightly--
"Wait!" Packet spread his own, useless, wings, then refolded them, cursing under his breath. "It's not what you think. Random doesn't hate you, you know, and neither do I. You saved her life, gave her purpose. Neither of us will forget what we owe you, even if nopony else understands. On a pragmatic level, it makes a lot of sense. Who knows what the new foals will be like, and nopony has recovered even a hint of magic. We have to rebuild."
He stepped up to Fusion's side, nuzzling at the base of her neck. "So of course I'll help with your little... problem. Random was very insistent." His voice became indistinct, muffled by her mane. "She also said I was to do my very best to make you happy."
Not quite the romantic first encounter I'd been dreaming of, but it still beats an order from the Eugenics Board. Fusion let out a quiet gasp, feeling her tail twitch involuntarily to one side, and surrendered to the wonderful things Packet was doing to her.
===
Spiral looked up at the sky and frowned. I'm sure the day is longer than it should be. She shook her head and focused on picking through the tangled mess of fallen branches, moss-covered and slick, that filled the forest floor. The stained remains of her medical kit hung loose across her withers, depleted of most of their original equipment but holding some improvised tools. "Got to be an easier way to do this," she muttered, then sighed with relief as Gravity dropped through the canopy to land next to her.
"How are you, Spiral?" she asked, brushing muzzles with the other mare. "No, don't tell me, you'll only have to repeat it for Fusion." Her horn flashed violet--
~~~discontinuity~~~
"--little warning would be nice!" Spiral snapped, ears flicking back then relaxing a moment later. "Sorry. Thank you for not making me walk the rest of the way."
They had moved a considerable distance, and were much closer to the edge of the force wall. In contrast to the blue sky and isolated clouds overhead, behind the wall there was a thick layer of fog and haze, shedding swirling snow. Fusion was there, facing the white-gold barrier a few kilolengths away, her eyes closed. High overhead, the sun moved a little to one side, then the six points of brilliance circling her head dimmed and dropped to the ground. "Hello, Spiral, we weren't expecting you for another day."
She's moving the sun again? Spiral gestured upwards. "Problem?"
"Not really... but the fight we had seems to have knocked things loose somewhere. The sun won't stay put and I have to keep adjusting its position."
"Moon too, and the debris ring. Space-time isn't nice and regular anymore." Gravity gave a little cough, slightly embarrassed. "My fault you got the day wrong. Dreams can be tricky when I'm trying for a light touch." She smiled, ruffling her wings, "Still, it's not like any of us have full schedules. Thank you for agreeing to come."
Knocked something loose... in the universe?! Spiral froze for a second, then shook her head. "You are still my patients, although I'm not sure how much I can help. Gravity said you were both trying to get pregnant?"
The sisters glanced at each other, then nodded in unison. "Yes," Fusion said. "I expected to feel something by now, based on what you told us when we were younger. I've tried some basic internal visualisation, but that was never my strong point. I can't see any changes, nor can Gravity."
"Not sure if I could even see anything at this stage," Gravity said. "How big might a foal be?"
"Well, there was nothing wrong with your reproductive systems at your last checkup." That, magic and obedience was all the Board really cared about. She studied the pair. "I take it you started trying as soon as you felt the desire? With what frequency, and did you get covered by multiple stallions?"
"Not at the same time!" Fusion said, her eyes wide and head pulled up. Gravity snorted, hiding a laugh.
"No, Fusion," Spiral said gently. "At different times."
"Oh." Fusion thought for a second, glancing at Gravity. "No. I figured that since Packet and Random seemed so disgustingly fertile..."
"I did," Gravity said without prompting. "We're dispersed enough that it's easy to find a new herd, and we can both pass for normal." She grinned at Fusion. "Although it's easier for me to sneak around in the dark. Stallions need remarkably little encouragement."
"I see..." Spiral reached around, pulling her pack off and mouthing it open. "Well, let's take a look at you." She looked from Fusion to Gravity and back again. "Who's going to be first?"
Gravity winked at Fusion, then trotted off.
"Thanks for that, sis," Fusion muttered, then sighed. "Fine, I guess it will be me." She turned away from Spiral, spreading her hind legs and lifting her tail.
===
"As far as I can tell, you are both in perfect health," Spiral said, "and both very much not pregnant."
Fusion's ears drooped. "Perhaps we've just spent too much time near nuclear explosions."
Gravity shifted position to alleviate the slight soreness under her tail. Magic was much less invasive! "Let's not borrow trouble, Fusion. It's a shame that..." Why would it not be possible? She frowned, staring off into space. "Spiral," Gravity said slowly, "You tried to help us before, but neither of us had any talent for thaumic medicine... but I've been thinking about this for a while. I'd like to try an experiment." She picked up all six Stones, setting them spinning around her head. Her horn glowed, barely visible in the sunlight. Can you hear me?
"I can." Spiral had a funny look on her face; her ears were trying to point inwards. "Oh! Stop, I can't--" She staggered, and Fusion caught her in a telekinetic field.
Warn a pony first! Fusion sent to Gravity.
"Sorry." Never get anything done at this rate! she thought privately, ignoring Fusion's annoyed tone. Close your eyes.
Spiral did, and became more steady. "I can see out of your eyes. We can still share?"
"I think we can go further... try some magic." Gravity made a conscious effort to relax, feeling the edges of Spiral's mind blur a little and merge with her own. Her power lashed out, scoring a groove in the ground and making Fusion shy away. Again. The second attempt was more controlled, and the selected rock floated in the air, doing careful figure of eights before it was replaced.
"That is the strangest sensation," Spiral said, tears in her eyes. "I think I can see what you have in mind."
I wonder what else you saw, Gravity thought, remembering a sealed cave and its lone, still living, occupant. Perhaps she missed it. "You can practice. Want to try some actual medicine now, perhaps some diagnostics?"
Fusion followed the work with a keen interest, hovering at the edges of the shared mental space, but saying nothing. Spiral scanned both sisters down to the finest detail, then started to manipulate the plant cells in a nearby tree. This is amazing! I need to see if I can heal a real pony, Spiral thought, I can help Lilac to walk again.
"We can't just experiment on somepony!" Fusion said, her voice harsh.
Spiral made Gravity reach forwards with one wing, brushing away Fusion's forelock, exposing the white marble of her artificial eye. "I can replace that," she said, the words slightly mangled through Gravity's vocal cords. "These Stones make complex treatment tasks very easy, now that I understand how to work through the sharing."
Fusion looked doubtful, then opened her mouth and closed it again. "There are quite a few who would benefit from this," she said thoughtfully. "So much improvement to their quality of life." She was silent, then nodded. "Okay, if you are sure."
===
Fusion settled to her belly on the grass, forelock brushed back from her face. "What do you want me to--" A violet haze clamped down on her head, and the side of her face went numb. --do? she finished through the sharing. The connection narrowed, closed down from Gravity's end, until it was little more than a whisper.
Sorry. I'm still fine tuning the amount of effort I need to put in. The mental tone was a curious blend of Gravity and Spiral, and seemed to echo slightly, like there was a delay. This would normally take a megasecond of regular sessions, but I think I can do it a little quicker...
There was pressure, and the white prosthetic popped out to be caught and deposited a short distance away. The sudden empty feeling made Fusion's head feel lopsided, and she resisted the urge to squint. Gentle force closed her lids over the socket, followed immediately by a tingling, wriggling sensation and flashes of rainbow colour and odd shapes where before there had only been darkness. There was more pressure, a feeling of something expanding inside her head, but it was over in moments and the magic abruptly cut off.
Eyes still tightly shut, Fusion looked left and right under the closed lids, feeling the motion from both sides of her face. "Is that it?!" she asked, sounding shocked.
"I think so," Spiral said, no longer present in the sharing. "Open your eyes, Fusion." She sounded slightly awestruck.
Fusion did, wincing at the brilliance of the sun and wiping away sudden tears. "It's..." She looked around, to the horizon and back at the fur on her forelegs."Perfect, Spiral. Just as good as before--" She swallowed, clearing her throat and not meeting Gravity's gaze, her mind full of the memory of a little black knife.
"Give no thought to Salrath, Fusion," Gravity said, voice thick with emotion. "Spiral, you are a genius."
"Do you think you can fix yourself?" Fusion asked.
The words hung in the sudden silence, both sisters staring at Spiral. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. "The Masters, the dogs, never allowed general medics to work on horn damage or anything to do with its neural connections." She smiled bitterly, returning the stares. "I think we know why. I did get one of the gryphons to take me through Orgon's final data packet, and I agree that the weapon has a genetic component. That's the exclusive domain of the Eugenics Board." She switched her gaze to Gravity. "Did you pull anypony from the Baur technical centres?"
Gravity made a sour face. "I don't think so. Certainly nopony has any guilty dreams about the weapon."
"We'll check again," Fusion said firmly. "Same goes for any of the Baur sites, but I expect they were all nuked. It's a pity this 'agonist' Orgon's data refers to only seems to be a hypothesis, otherwise this would be easy."
"At least I can prevent more suffering. Between Gravity's ability to find a pony's mind and my boosted medical skills, I won't even need to be close. I want to do it now." Spiral stared at Gravity, naked need on her face.
Fusion shivered. "Of course." To have all that skill and not be able to use it, surrounded by maimed ponies. "You don't want to ask them first?"
"No!" The exclamation came from Grav and Spiral simultaneously. Gravity gestured to the medic to continue when Spiral looked a little embarrassed. "Too many won't accept it, coming from you two. This way they can complain after they are better."
===
That was a weird dream. Half-remembered visions of bright rainbows moving like ball-lightning filled his mind, fading rapidly. Lilac yawned and stretched, then felt something unexpected touch his left hind hoof. Half asleep, his body responded by kicking out violently. There was a sudden impact, followed by a metallic clatter. Wide awake and heart pounding, he twisted to stare at his mobility carriage. The thing, a modified version of the one the gryphons had given him and carefully placed within mouth-reach of his sleeping pad, was lengths away and tipped on one side.
"No," he moaned. "Please don't let it be damaged." Forelegs and wings working, he started to crawl towards the carriage, hind legs twitching as he dragged them along. He froze, then looked around at his body. The left hind twitched again, and he felt sensation return as a tingling roar, the worst case of pins-and-needles he'd ever experienced. Freezing in place, Lilac held his breath until the sensation -- not pain, but close enough -- subsided.
Eyes wide and still not breathing, he pulled on muscles that hadn't worked for megaseconds, letting it out in an explosive neigh when the leg responded.
Shakily, and with much effort, Lilac levered himself to all four hooves and took a first hesitant step.
===
"That's it," Gravity said, opening her eyes to see Fusion watching her.
Spiral, eyes shining with unshed tears, stared at the rising sun for a few moments, apparently lost in thought. "It was so wonderful to help ponies again." She smiled, the tears making damp tracks in the fur of her muzzle. "I got to see Lilac walk."
"I was following the magic," Fusion said softly, "and wondering what else we could do, if we can find a pony with the right skillset who would be willing to work with us."
Gravity touched noses with Spiral, then turned to Fusion. "What, though? We can build something, any bit of technology you want, or any structure. Weather..." She looked thoughtful. "I did consider that while I rechecked who we have. All weather team skills are very much local; global climate isn't something we should play with, I think."
Mouth suddenly dry, Fusion shook her head. "We might push the system further from equilibrium, perhaps into some new stable and more hostile regime. Better we let the world recover by itself, if it can." What else could we do? "Any ideas?"
"There is something, something Sinter said we were good at: destruction. She was right..." Gravity said, face expressionless. "I can find ponies and gryphons, and finding the dogs is no different." Her voice became hard. "We could make sure nothing like this ever happens again. I could find them all and you--" She nodded at Fusion. "--could flood their bolt holes with hard radiation."
Spiral's ears drooped and she stared at Gravity, open mouthed. "You can't be serious!" She looked at Fusion. "Tell me you won't go along with this?"
We could, we really could. Fusion swallowed, pushing back at her immediate horror. Would you even need my help, Grav? she sent.
No, I would not, came the reply through the sharing. It would be trivial to tie space-time into little knots that would turn them into bloody paste and crushed bone.
But you won't, will you? Please? Not without dire need.
No, I won't. "It might even be a kindness, all things considered. So many are trapped in the dark, waiting to die by thirst or starvation." Gravity shrugged and flicked her wings.
"Couldn't you get them out?" Spiral whispered the words, her voice turning into a foal's whimper.
"And do what with them? Millions upon millions of meat eaters. We should do what they did to us and the gryphons, and feed them to each other." Gravity snorted, shaking her head. "You would all be practically helpless in the face of that starving horde. Better that they die, quick and clean."
"I don't think we have to go that far, Grav. They've knocked themselves back to the stone age. I won't be party to a genocide."
"We are already party to a genocide! It's the one good thing they did for us, to not let us die in pain." A flicker of disgust crossed Gravity's face and she waved a wing dismissively. "I only make the suggestion. Most will die in any case. Fair enough, Spiral. I will not dictate their fate, I will just watch them and see what they do. I've already given them a warning. Aside from that, anything else we could do?"
"Aside from genocide, you mean? I don't know," Spiral said slowly, still sounding a little stunned. "We have food, the climate is kind..." She nodded to Fusion. "...I think it would be a bad thing to give us everything we need. Keeping busy and being in charge of our fate will be a good defence against despair."
'We' and 'us', Fusion thought, ears drooping slightly. That doesn't include Gravity and I. "I understand. Please remember we are here if you need help."
Spiral nodded, starting to back away. "I should get back and answer some questions." She paused, then sighed. "I had another look at you both, between helping ponies. There's nothing wrong with your reproductive tracts. I don't know why you cannot conceive... but the weapon does have a genetic component." She looked downcast, not meeting their gaze. "It seems likely that is the cause. I'm sorry."
Fusion watched her go, then slumped slightly. "Well... that's that. Not even the same species anymore."
"It's a real kick in the face," Gravity whispered, voice hollow and rough, stepping to Fusion's side and leaning against her. "Don't fret, sister. They are all our foals now."
===
"It's still smaller than I'd expected," Spiral said, chewing at her lips and studying Doppler's belly, "even though you are a little early. When do you think you conceived?" She glanced between Doppler and Redshift, who both looked guilty. "I've told you before -- a lot of ponies are in your position. It's only natural. I think you are just the first to come to term." She grinned at them, trying to put the pair at ease. I felt the urge myself, although nothing has come of it. That brought back memories of time stolen with Trocar, and the wicked thrill of mating without the consent or management of the eugenics board.
"Not sure," Doppler said, "we started pretty much as soon as the days grew longer and I came into season." She gasped, belly rippling.
"Well, that foal is coming out, and sooner rather than later," she said, suddenly all business. Thank the Maker that complications are so rare! I can at least seem confident, even if there is precious little I can do. She nosed open her meagre medical bag, pulling out a length of soft rope, already tied into a loop, and laying out the few tools she had commissioned, painstakingly carved and shaped from dense, seasoned pine, then lay her head on Doppler's flank, listening intently.
"Sounds normal to me." Heart rate is up, but that's not surprising. She sniffed, smelling Doppler's sweat along with the grass and mud. "There have been plenty of other births, all those Naraka mares, and we've not had any problems yet. Loads of foals for yours to play with."
Spiral thought about the crystal that Gravity had given her, sitting in her medical pack. A slender hexagonal crystal of rose quartz carrying a simple spell that would be activated by enough hoof-pressure to snap it. Not yet, I won't call them yet. There's no distress, to dam or foal.
"I...Oh!" Another ripple across Doppler's belly, then a wet noise and the odour of blood, salt and amniotic fluid.
Spiral busied herself with what little she could do, mostly keeping Doppler calm and Redshift out of the way. The birth progressed in the same way as all the others she'd attended, and before long the foal was out, still shrouded by the birthing membrane. It moved, ripping the milky film and pulling it away. Spiral flinched, her ears folding back, then forced them to relax.
The tiny foal, light copper-brown coat made darker by amniotic fluid, moved her legs weakly, trying to shed the membrane. So small, like she's ten megaseconds premature... Spiral used a set of modified preening tongs to pull the rest away, then carefully used a bundle of dry moss to wipe away some of the mucus from the little filly's nose and mouth. So small, but still perfectly formed, except no wings, not even stubs. She ran the tongs along the filly's flank, but the skin was smooth and unbroken.
She looks like the non-sapient ponies, the ones the dogs kept on nature reserves. A sudden crushing dread settled on Spiral, enough to make her knees tremble. Is this what the antimagic weapon has really done? It wasn't enough to just strip away our power, but to turn us back to before the Stones changed us--
She dropped the tongs, nuzzling at the filly's sparse forelock. Just like her flanks, the skin there was perfectly smooth under a layer of thin, fine fur. There was no trace of a hornbed, and no sign that one would ever grow there. Spiral sighed, feeling numb, then stepped back and let Doppler turn and look. The mare gasped, a look of horror on her face. "What is she?"
"Your filly is fine," Spiral said, words containing an iron certainty that her heart didn't feel, then looked more closely at the foal, thinking about everything she knew about the ancestral pony forms. Similar, but not the same! "She lacks wings and a horn, and she's small, but she looks normal." With one wingtip, Spiral traced the filly's head from muzzle to poll. "She has the cranium dimensions I'd expect for a pony of her size." She fixed them with a hard stare, putting all of her conviction into it. "Your foal is not just an animal."
Doppler stood, twisting around to nuzzle and lick at the filly's muzzle and face. Redshift crowded close and Spiral stepped back a little further, giving them space. She watched them getting to know their foal, watched their worry turn to joy as the filly staggered to her hooves and took a first, faltering step.
Perhaps it will be enough, she thought, mind turning to the hundreds of other pregnancies that were coming to term throughout the valleys inside the force dome. It better be.
In the next half year there were over six thousand foals born, none of which had either horn or wings.