“It only goes to show how special I am,” Discord said. “Name one other Equestrian who has a character based upon them in a different franchise!” A Star Fleet uniform appeared out of nowhere upon him.
The journalist wasn’t sure how to break the news. “Uhm, well, technically you were based upon that other character…”
“Oh, pish posh,” the draconequus replied, waving it away. “I’m real, in case you haven’t noticed. How can somepony real be based on a fictional character?”
Another journalist injected a question. “How do you know about Star Trek?”
The draconequus smirked. “That would be telling.”
Meg leaned against one of the vertical bars that comprised the Gates of Tartarus, well away from journalists and the cameras that surrounded Discord. The whole point of her being there was to get in front of those cameras, of course, but there was no hurry. Twilight had yet to return with Tirek. Let Discord have the limelight.
Numerous Royal Guards patrolled the wide ledge; the media had lost interest in them some time ago. The Zephyr was docked against the ledge, still off limits to press. Meg wasn’t really sure why. Maybe because Twilight found them too annoying.
She hadn’t granted Senator Routledge access to the interior either, much to his annoyance. He responded by making a statement to the cameras, asking what the princess was hiding. Twilight had rolled her eyes at that; well, maybe she should have allowed him to bring along some of his staff. Discord had arrived shortly thereafter, and the media quickly lost interest in the senator, showing no inclination to watch him as he walked along the Zephyr, inspecting it as best he could for Equestrian secrets.
Meg silently groaned. The senator was heading straight for her. An orchid pegasus was near her; that was the changeling’s primary job, after all, to be seen next to her. This time, the changeling did not mimic her phone, as an Equestrian wouldn’t be expected to have one. Should the subject come up, “Common Ground” was her liaison who oversaw the participation of ponies in the upcoming convention.
“This is gonna be fun,” she muttered. What would the senator want with her? So far as she knew, he hadn’t a clue she existed. Could it be because she was the only other human present who wasn’t media or Secret Service?
Senator Clarence Routledge stopped in front of her and held out a hand, a politician’s smile gracing his face. “Meg Coleman, I believe?”
She hesitantly took it and got a firm handshake in return. “You know who I am?” That couldn’t be good, could it?
“My staff is without peer,” he said, still smiling. “You are here to book Lord Tirek for your convention—SILICon, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“You needn’t worry,” he quickly assured her. “I’m all in favor of it. I am here to welcome him back home, after all.”
Well, it could’ve been worse, she had to admit. Still begged the question why, but he wasn’t likely to volunteer that information—not the actual reason, anyway. She’d let the professionals deal with that.
“Granted,” he continued, “I’d be happier if he was the only guest of honor from this universe, but we can’t have everything we want, now can we?”
“I suppose not.” It was a point easy enough to concede.
The senator’s polished smile took a mild hit. “And who might this be?”
Her doppelgänger had joined them. “This is my Equestrian counterpart, you might say.” Meg waved a hand at the changeling. “She’s my contact over here for handling convention appearances. Allow me to introduce Common Ground.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the changeling said.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise; he quickly recovered his composure. “Striking how similar you two sound…”
Something about how he said that bothered her.
Routledge looked through the gates into the cave. “I wonder if it’d be okay for me to go inside. I didn’t think to ask the princess.” He looked back at the media, still obsessed over Discord. “Maybe later.”
A muffled scream.
Meg facepalmed upon seeing that a journalist’s lips had been replaced by a closed zipper. He was trying to pull it open, without success.
“I thought I had made myself quite clear,” Discord said reproachfully. “I will not answer questions about my former friendship with Tirek.” He leaned in. “Got it?”
The man nodded vigorously.
His gaze swept his audience. “And the rest of you?”
Lots of nodding and affirmative utterances.
Discord snapped his talons. The man tried once more to pull the zipper open, this time succeeding. Once it had opened all the way, it disappeared. He gingerly explorer his restored lips.
Meg sadly shook her head. What did I tell you, Discord?
“They knew the risks,” Agent Reubens said, not far from her. The media had been informed of Discord’s likely participation.
“Much safer to annoy ursa minors,” Agent Fowler added.
The senator rushed over to them. “Shouldn’t it be your jobs to protect our citizens from the likes of him?”
Reubens met the senator’s eyes. “The Royal Guard provides the security here, and they’re far better qualified than us to handle magical threats. Our job is to protect Lord Tirek from the dangers of our world, once we return.” He paused for a moment. “What would you have any of us do about Discord?”
Routledge was at a loss for words. Finally: “That’s why they should stay out of our world.”
He stormed away.
“Discord still shouldn’t be doing that,” Meg said. But nothing could be done about it, and Fluttershy was hundreds of miles away. “I wonder if that’ll get on TV.” One camera had been pointed at the victim of Discord’s annoyance since the muffled scream.
No one offered an opinion.
“I sure hope they don’t pester me like that,” the doppelgänger said.
It was still a bit weird hearing her own voice from another’s mouth. “You and me both,” Meg said. “Too bad our options for dealing with it are a bit more… limited.”
“You could ask Discord to intervene,” Fowler helpfully suggested.
“I suppose I could.” Meg wasn’t sure that’d be a good idea. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Thinking she might have heard something, she peeked around the wide metal-and-crystal-composite bar.
The others with her were also looking into the cave. “I don’t see anything,” Reubens said.
Meg shook her head. “I thought I heard something, but it’s hard to tell with all the talking over there.”
A few seconds later, a Royal Guard came into view, ascending from the throat at the back of the cave. A second guard appeared. And there was Tirek, his height exposing his head almost before the guard in front of him. It wasn’t long before Twilight could be seen by the centaur’s side.
“It’s really happening,” Meg said.
Behind Tirek and Twilight were a pair of minotaur guards. The centaur lacked any visible restraints, though some might have been present under his robes. But then, Meg considered, that’s why Discord was here, to be the ultimate restraint.
The draconequus teleported beside them, presenting a poker face to his former friend. Once the media realized where he went, they scurried over. One camera locked onto the procession that slowly but surely approached the gates. Another camera locked onto Discord, intent on catching any reaction. The third watched the guards, no longer patrolling the ledge, as they took up positions in front of the gates. The media stepped aside to let them through.
Silence descended, broken only by the hoof steps of the approaching ponies, minotaurs, and the lone centaur. Tirek stared almost unbelieving at the gates, his freedom moments away. If he had noticed Discord, he didn’t show it.
The two Royal Guards leading the procession passed through the gates first. They submitted to a magical scan by the other guards. After they passed inspection, they fell into position, helping the other guards keep the journalists back.
Twilight passed through the gates next and was herself scanned, all captured by a camera. She turned around to face the ex-prisoner. “You may enter Equestria,” she said as officially as she could manage.
Was he hesitating? He eyes swept the crowd of humans awaiting him, then hung momentarily on “Common Ground.” He smiled, silently thanking her for getting him out of Tartarus—this time, for good. He stepped through the gates.
A guard scanned him, then backed away, his work done. The minotaur guards remained on the other side of the gates, their work almost done; they stayed to discourage humans from entering the Tartarus realm.
Cameras, still and video, were on the proud centaur. His eyes scanned the assembled humans. Once more, he glanced at Common Ground. His eyes quickly returned to the journalists, looking as if he had tasted something unpleasant.
“Anything you’d like to say now that you’re free?” someone asked.
It took a moment for the question to register. “Free?” A joyous laugh. “Not quite,” he corrected. “One thing remains to be done.” He nodded at Twilight. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Not quite.” Discord materialized in front of Tirek.
The centaur raised an eyebrow. “Do you object to my release?”
“On the contrary,” he said, poking a talon on Tirek’s chest. “I’m here to make sure you go through with it.”
“You needn’t worry about that. I know better than to share a realm with you.”
“Then we understand each other.”
Tirek nodded. “If there’s one thing I regret, it was betraying our friendship. Perhaps you can one day forgive me, but I suspect that day shall not come until long after my restored human life has ended.”
Discord was as silent as a stone statue.
Tirek sighed and turned back to Twilight. “Speaking of ‘human life’…”
“Right.” The alicorn addressed the journalists. “You probably want to pay attention.”
As if they weren’t already. This was it. It wouldn’t be long before Meg, along with her doppelgänger, was to have her moment in the limelight.
Twilight closed her eyes. Her horn glowed. Tirek glowed. There was a cacophony of camera shutters. What were the odds every last photo, every last frame of video, would be analyzed to uncover the secrets of the isomorphic mapping spell?
A human stood where a centaur once did.
Tirek looked himself over, lifting one human leg then the other. The robes now draped around his human form, as Rarity had designed, the rear end fluttering to the ground behind him. Twilight detached the excess cloth with her magic, rolled it up, and put it aside.
“Finally,” he whispered. “I can return home.”
Discord looked Tirek over, from head to toe. “I’m satisfied,” he said, and with a hard glare added, “Never come back.”
He vanished.
After a few moments, the former centaur seemingly noticed that the crowd of reporters was still present. For the first time in millennia, he stepped forward on two legs. “Allow me to make a brief statement first.”
He waited for the few raised hands to be lowered.
“First, I am discarding the name ‘Lord Tirek.’ I took that name to go with my imposed centaur identity, and—” he raised his arms in vindication “—I am no longer a centaur.” His arms dropped. “Yet my original human name, Androgeos, is no longer appropriate either. That life, too, ended ages ago, and I hold no delusions that I remain a Minoan any more than I’m still a centaur.” He bore a placid smile. “I have given it some thought and, after consulting with other humans, have chosen a new name, a name suitable for my new identity as a twenty-first century human.”
The human formerly known as the centaur Lord Tirek dramatically paused for a few seconds.
“You may call me ‘Andy.’”
Meg didn’t think that name really fit him, but that was his business, not hers. And what about a last name? Maybe the ancient Minoans didn’t use them, but the modern world did. Nonetheless, “Androgeos” was a mouthful. Perhaps the new name was for the best.
Andy’s eyes swept the humans in front of him, their higher vantage gone along with his equine physique. He wasn’t tall by modern standards, though well-muscled.
“As for what I shall do next…” He shrugged. “My schedule is wide open, and I’m open to suggestions. I do have an invitation to speak at one of the so-called ‘bronycons,’ and,” he said, turning to Meg, “I am accepting your invitation.”
All eyes and cameras fell upon her—and not coincidentally, the orchid pegasus standing next to her. She nervously smiled.
The senator made his way through the crowd and emerged in front of the reborn man. He offered his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Senator Clarence Routledge. As a senator of the United States government, I’d like to welcome you to our great nation.”
Andy took his hand and shook it. “I am honored. Will you also be making an appearance at this bronycon?”
“Oh… I don’t think I’d be welcome, given my public views on ponies.” He looked at Meg, smiling. “Am I wrong?”
A camera was on her. She had not the slightest clue what to say.
Twilight saved her. “The bronycon Andy is referring to is the upcoming SILICon in the southern end of the San Francisco Bay Area. I suspect tickets will be selling out fast, so you might want to get yours as soon as possible.”
Thank you. That camera had pivoted as soon as Twilight began speaking. And on the subject of tickets, Meg was willing to bet none of this would air until those tickets had been acquired by the media. Hope this makes you happy, Andrew.
A question was directed at Twilight: “Will you also be making an appearance at that convention?”
“No, I won’t be making an appearance, nor will any other of what you call the ‘Mane Six.’ Your government is concerned that our presence would be too inflammatory.”
“Couldn’t the same be said about T—I mean, Andy’s appearance?”
Andy swept his hands out. “I’m one of you now, a human once more.”
“As he implies, he’s no longer my responsibility,” Twilight said. “You’ll need to take that up with your government.”
Serrell was willing to manage that particular risk, Meg knew, because the distraction the ex-centaur would create—was already creating—suited his purposes. Twilight knew that too, but of course she wasn’t going to mention it to the press. She looked at the senator; he did not seem inclined to make a statement one way or the other. Did it suit his purposes as well?
“Where will you be staying,” came another question, “once you return to our world?”
“I’m not sure, actually. I’ve yet to familiarize myself with the modern world.” He glanced at Twilight. “She would know, since she’ll be taking me there, but I believe the specific location is being kept a secret for now.”
“That is correct,” Twilight said. “The Secret Service will be providing security for Andy. They prefer that his new home be undisclosed for the time being.”
Agent Fowler tapped Meg on the shoulder. “It’s time we get going.”
“Okay.” Meg followed the two agents as they walked to their new assignment.
Twilight spotted them coming her way. “And speaking of the Secret Service, I’m afraid our time here is up. After I’ve taken Andy to his new home, I’ll come right back to return you all to your realm.”
A jumble of questions were shouted out, but Twilight ignored them. “Don’t answer any more questions,” she told Andy.
He smiled. “Leave them wanting more. Got it.”
Twilight started to say something, but instead shook her head. She addressed the guards. “Please keep them at a distance.” She shot Routledge a pointed look. “That includes the senator.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
She teleported away—to get a plaid pill, Meg knew.
Andy shot Meg a curious glance. “You’ll be coming with us?”
“It’s… a bit complicated to explain right now,” she said, gesturing to the press, still trying in vain to squeeze in more questions.
He looked oddly at the lone pegasus by the gates. “Will Common Ground be joining us?”
“There’s no reason for her to accompany us,” Agent Reubens replied. “Is there one I should be aware of?”
“No,” he quickly said, “it’s just that she had been with you when we first met in Tartarus, so I simply assumed she would be.”
Meg did her best to keep a poker face, pleased that the changeling gambit seemed to have paid off. But will it pay off with Andrew? She looked at the senator, unhappy at being kept back with the others. Perhaps the gambit had unexpected benefits.
“It’s possible you may see her again,” Reubens said. “That’s up to Twilight, really.”
“What role—”
Before Andy could finish the question, Twilight returned. “We’re going to your new home right now,” she said around the pill in her mouth. Gathering up the four humans in her magic, she transported them to the hotel suite.
Andy stepped away, taking in his new surroundings. The kitchen. The flat-screen TV. The plush furniture. The potted plants and abstract paintings. The electric lights. The closed curtains covering the windows. He headed there first, pulling aside a curtain and looking out into the surrounding twenty-first century city. “I never imagined… even after what those other inmates had told me.”
He watched a jumbo jet soar into the sky.
“Take all the time you need to let it soak in,” Fowler said. “I’m sure it’ll be overwhelming at first.”
“It took me a while, too,” Twilight added. “But then, I’ve only been a visitor to this realm, never a resident.”
“Our first order of business is getting you a proper wardrobe,” Fowler continued. “A tailor will be coming over soon to get your measurements. Unfortunately, what you’re wearing now is… not customary, to put it mildly. Once you have something that won’t draw attention to itself, we can take you shopping.”
“I think you’ll find modern shopping malls to be quite the experience,” Meg couldn’t help adding.
“But of course.” Andy continued to take in his new world. “How far away are we, from my ancient homeland?”
Fowler pointed to a globe over on a counter as she walked towards it. “You can see for yourself right here. We got this for you. It’s a globe of our world. We’re over here…” She rotated it almost half-way. “And Minoa used to be over… here.”
He joined her and inspected the globe himself, turning it around. “Must be thousands of miles.”
“Ten thousand miles, more or less,” Reubens said. “But it’d take less than a single day to travel there.”
“Less than a day,” he said in wonder. “On one of those flying machines I saw?”
Twilight interrupted. “I really need to get back, so let’s take care of some unfinished business first.”
Andy continued studying the globe. “Go ahead.”
“We had a deal. Your freedom is contingent on providing everything you know about the portal that brought you to our realm.”
He finally looked at her. “Right this second? It was a long time ago, after all.”
Meg wondered if he was trying to renege on the deal. He couldn’t get away with that, could he?
“No, not right this second. But soon, unless you want to return to Tartarus.”
He turned to his new protectors. “You’ll let her do that?”
Reubens shrugged. “The terms of your release are between you and the princess. In practice, there’s nothing we could do to stop her from taking you back.”
The alicorn stomped a hoof. “We don’t want you back, Discord doesn’t want you back, so just honor the deal, okay?”
Without waiting for a response, Twilight returned to Equestria.
“I have every intention of doing so,” he said quietly. “I’d just like some time to get settled first.”
He wandered over into the kitchen. The shiny and stainless steel refrigerator caught his eye, and he opened it. “So cold, yet achieved without magic.” He closely inspected the interior. “No obvious ice, either. I wouldn’t have thought it possible.”
“It uses a heat pump powered by electricity,” Fowler explained. “We’ve had them for, what, sixty, seventy years now?”
Andy opened various cabinets, inspecting the plates, glasses, pots and pans provided with the room. “Almost makes me wish I could’ve returned a century or two earlier. That world would have been much easier for me to understand.” He flipped a switch, and the garbage disposal made a hideous racket. He abruptly shut it off. “If far less intriguing.”
Meg uneasily looked about. Why am I still there? To discuss the convention, sure, but shouldn’t Andy first have had the chance to get settled, as he had said? “I guess I’ll be going now. I’ll be back later to talk about the convention.” She spotted the DVD player and remembered what Celestia had asked of her. “And I’ll bring DVDs—a copy of the cartoon—with me, so you can start watching them.”
Andy was looking inside the oven. “There was a changeling present.”
Meg froze.
“I find it unlikely Twilight was unaware of that. If I could sense it, before my humanity was restored, surely so could she.”
The changeling gambit had failed? But then why was he mentioning it only now? Meg waited for the other shoe to drop.
Andy closed the oven door and looked directly at Meg. “So that had me thinking: why would Twilight be okay with that? What purpose would be served? Why didn’t she mention something to me? Surely, not in front of the media, but she could’ve given me a heads-up in Tartarus. But I suppose she didn’t know I would notice.
“Anyway. Then you spoke, and in hearing your voice it fell into place.”
Here it comes.
“You are Common Ground the pegasus, and the changeling was there to obscure that fact.”
He bore the self-pleased look of the cat who had caught the mouse.
She threw out her hands in defeat. “I suppose you got me.”
He broke out in a smile. “No need to be like that. Obviously, that little deception was for the media. I noticed how that changeling clung to you whenever a camera was pointed in your direction.” He briefly glanced at the agents. “Perhaps you could fill me in on the details later, when taking a break from watching those cartoons.”
“Sure, we can do that.” Left unspoken: when the agents weren’t around.
Andy studied the agents. “But you already knew about the changeling.”
Reubens nodded. “We did.”
“Interesting.”
Well, maybe it wasn’t a disaster after all. Andy trusted Common Ground, because she had gotten him out of Tartarus—not once, but now twice. That trust was now transferred to her human self.
Yet it wasn’t all roses either. In some sense it made it harder to pump him for information, because as far as he was concerned she already knew all about how he had escaped from Tartarus that first time. And how to explain the transformations between human and pony? That required a close association with the very alicorns she “betrayed” when she broke him out of Tartarus.
She needed an alibi. Unless she wanted to gamble on Tirek—no, it’s Andy now—not inquiring too deeply.
Nope, not a good idea; she needed an alibi. Maybe Yearling would be willing to help with that. Stories were her speciality, after all.
Her phone rang. She took it out of her purse and noted the caller. Couldn’t wait, could you? Sighing, she accepted the call. “Hello, Andrew.”
“Just saw it on TV. Did you officially book him yet?”
Already? She knew for a fact they couldn’t broadcast live. They must’ve transmitted the second Twilight brought them home. “What exactly have you seen?” There hadn’t been enough time for them to stream the whole thing.
“Stills, mostly. They’re promising video soon. But I saw Tirek as a centaur, then as a human, also minotaur guards, royal guards, those two Secret Service agents—and you and yes that pegasus that looks like you. Happy? Did you book him yet?”
She wanted to groan. “He accepted in front of the media, you know.”
Andy looked up at her, having become aware he was the topic of the conversation.
“He did? They didn’t say anything about that, not yet anyway.”
She put the call on speaker. “I’m in the room with him right now. Andy, do you accept our invitation to appear at our convention? Speak loudly, please.” She held her phone out.
“Yes!” he shouted.
She moved the phone back to herself. “Satisfied?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
“You’ve made my day! Good job. Talk to you later.”
Andrew ended the call.
Andy was impressed. “That device will also let you talk to another person. Over what distance?”
“Anywhere in the whole wide world,” Meg intoned.
“I cannot wait until I get one of my own.”
“We’re working on it,” Reubens said.
“It can do a lot more than record video or make phone calls,” Meg said. “Might as well check what the CNN headlines are.” Maybe they hadn’t mentioned Andy accepting the invitation because they hadn’t gotten their tickets yet—just as she’d predicted would happen. She brought up the news app. The top headlines were what she expected, a summary of Tirek’s release from Tartarus—and still no obvious mention of the convention. She scrolled down.
Crap.
There it was, in black and white: Developing story: Equestrian DNA sequencing conducted in secrecy.