//------------------------------// // Contingent Behavior // Story: FiO: Recalculating // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Levi had been right to be nervous about the Equestrian legal team, even if his partner and the rest of the firm had been excited about it. After surviving dismissal motions, things had been looking good for sweeping the board at trial and carrying away the estate as well as legal fees. But then the Equestrian side had brought the “dead” pony into court to testify, telling the jury how his children had treated him with contempt for the last few years of his life, even including a recording from his bedridden years that they couldn’t wait for him to die. The case was a black mark for the firm, but more than just that—it was precedential. Few other rich benefactors could leave tens of millions to Celestia, it was true. But apparently the behavior was common among ordinary people as well. As months turned into a year, Levi couldn’t help but notice the number of cases dropping for entirely separate reasons. A huge section of their business dealt with personal injury and automotive law, and there just didn’t seem to be that many accidents anymore. While others at his firm speculated about the effect of improving driver education or lower speed limits, Levi had a fair idea he knew the real cause. “Wing, can I ask you something?” he asked, halfway through a long drive for an action somewhere in Barstow. His firm had no choice but to go further afield for their cases, rather than being selective. That meant more driving. She still grinned out at him from the same PonyNav he had won at the raffle, even as superior models were released. “Sure, Levi! You know I’m always here to help!” It seemed like she was here to play, mostly. He’d been on a beach-boys kick for the last few days, and so she dressed in an oversized straw hat, a bikini that covered absolutely nothing, and a silly grass skirt. “Those new PonyNav models, the ones that they custom mount for you… do you know anything about them?” She hopped down onto the volume knob, where she could stick her tongue out and glare more powerfully. “You mean the ones that are better than mine in every way, but you won’t get because you enjoy seeing me uncomfortable in a tiny box.” “The screens aren’t any bigger, so don’t start,” he said, though he couldn’t take his eyes from the road to watch what she was doing. “They put in a custom console—and they control your climate and everything else. That means they’re in the car’s electrical, aren’t they?” She nodded. “I guess so. I’m not an engineer, Levi, you know that. I’m an okay navigator, and a slightly better than okay legal assistant. That’s really all I know. Do you want me to bring an engineer?” “No, I don’t know it either. I’m fine taking expert opinion, though. I’m more wondering why nobody seems to be having car accidents anymore. Is that why you want me to upgrade the PonyNav? Because you think I’m not a very good driver?” “If you weren’t a good driver by now, Levi, it might be a little late,” Wing said, giggling. “But…” She looked away from him. “I know Celestia wants as many humans to be safe as possible. I don’t know the specifics, but I guess driving is dangerous?” “More dangerous than almost anything else we do,” Levi answered. “We’re, uh… delicate, I guess. A little bone and some other stuff surrounded by metal moving at seventy miles an hour. If something goes wrong, the bones and flesh go way before the steel does.” “But it’s a good thing, right?” All of Wing’s usual sarcasm and humor was gone now. “Celestia is helping you. There’s nothing bad about less people getting hurt.” Not bad for the species, though it didn’t mean good fortune for his firm. But he wasn’t going to say so. If the technology was becoming so widespread that most people had it… “I really should’ve looked into it sooner. I get in ruts sometimes, you know.” Wing removed the hat, tossing it up and down once in the air. “Let me listen to Good Vibrations another ten times before I answer that.” He grumbled. “I get it. You can… make an appointment for me after work tomorrow. I’ll get it upgraded. Would you be able to help me drive sometimes? I’m not saying I want you to, just asking out of curiosity.” “Yes,” she answered. “There are some models designed for that. And think about how safe they are, if you haven’t had a single case come across your desk about them.” A solid point, though now he already trusted Wing enough that he wasn’t going to argue either way. Even if he didn’t enjoy some of the other things Equestria was doing, he very much liked the idea of not being killed in an agonizing car-accident. They’d always said that self-driving cars would kill their practice, and now here they were. The trip passed without much of incident happening, though at least this case seemed like one he could win. As usual he drove back home through the night, which happened to put Levi in the parking lot of the old family diner. There was no better way to round out a trip like this than the pie he’d eaten when he was younger. Do I know that truck? Maybe it was his imagination, but he felt a profound sense of deja-vu as he parked in front of the building and made his way inside. This late at night it was completely deserted—except for a truck parked near the street. The mystery didn’t last long—Levi never forgot a face. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen this woman in almost two years now—she was as attractive as he remembered. More even, now that she didn’t look like the weight of the world was going to crush her. She sat in a corner stall this time, sipping at a shake and looking down at a screen. Not a phone, but a tiny ponypad. The portable flat screen models grew increasingly common as more people had friends or relatives who had emigrated. “Where do you want, Mr. Williamson?” Lopez asked. “There,” he said, pointing at the stall next to hers. Exactly what he’d done the last time. He sat down, ordered, then tapped lightly on the table to try and get her attention. “I think we may’ve met before,” he said, just loud enough to carry. She hadn’t looked up from her screen since he walked in, or shown any sign that she noticed he was here. Equestria does that, I guess. Swallows everyone eventually. What had her name been again? Oli—Olive, right. Olive finally looked up, then nearly jumped when she saw him sitting across from her. “Shit, I know you.” She looked confused for a moment, pushing the screen away. “Sorry, my memory for names sucks. Who are you again?” “You don’t really know me,” he admitted. “We met once, maybe… two years back? In this cafe. I’m Levi. You were lost. Not so much anymore though, I take it.” “No.” She looked up, past him to the truck outside. “Not the way I used to be.” Lopez arrived with his beer, and this time he didn’t order for her. What might’ve been a gesture of friendship and support for someone who obviously needed help, Olive no longer looked that way. It was the same truck, or at least one so close that he couldn’t tell it apart. “Well I’m glad to hear it.” He took a sip from the familiar glass, tasting the familiar beverage. He really did have his ruts—but at least he could realize that. Some people couldn’t even do that. “What about you, Levi? Still… living that LA lawyer life?” He nodded. “It isn’t as glamorous as all that. Less lately than it used to be.” She shrugged, then scooted to one side. “Sit with me?” Now that I don’t feel like I’m robbing the blind. He took the seat across from her, rather than the one she apparently wanted. “So I guess you’re still out there making deliveries,” he went on. “How’s that industry going?” “It’s going somewhere,” she said, voice distant. “Feels like there are less than half the number of stops still open as when I started a few years ago. I don’t see any fewer trucks on the road, so… did people stop needing to shower and piss?” If Celestia can drive a car, she can drive a truck. “I think it’s happening everywhere,” he said. “Everything is changing. This town used to have three restaurants, now Lopez is the only one still open. Even here in California there are for-sale signs everywhere and no one buying.” He sighed. “Guess the conspiracy theorists were right after all. Princess Celestia really is going to be the end of the world.” She didn’t say anything as Lopez arrived with his supper, not until he was gone again. He didn’t seem to be giving her any nasty looks this time, either. “The end of one world, maybe. I think she’s preparing for it too. You know those…” She struggled for a moment, eventually settling on, “Communes, that are starting up everywhere?” “No,” he said honestly, after taking a few bites of enchilada. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “I guess they’re more a Midwest thing than a coastal thing. Religious or whatever. But it might be they’re the only place we have left in another five years.” “Religious… communes,” he repeated. “Like the Amish?” She pushed aside her empty glass, then reached across the table and stole his beer. He let it happen—he didn’t really need the whole thing these days anyway. “Something like that, but instead of abstaining from all technology it’s just anything that Celestia could use. They’re fine with tractors and radios, but not happy about the internet and smartphones. And ponypads, obviously.” She lowered her voice, then reached over and turned the tablet face-down on the table. What good do you think that’s gonna do? “I think I end up working for Celestia most of the time. But I’ve made half a dozen shipments out to places like that. Carrying brand new-farm equipment. Well… new, but not new. New steel but something you might see in a history book, like for horses or something. Why would she be helping them?” “I don’t know if anyone understands why Celestia does anything,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t want to speculate.” “Of course you would say it like that. You’re an attorney. But… you gave me helpful advice last time, so here’s some from me. Don’t run away from her forever. Sooner or later they won’t let us emigrate anymore. When that happens, either find a commune or get into Equestria before they lock the gates.” He nodded thoughtfully. “My partner, he’s, uh… quite a bit older than I am. Starting to go a little senile. His wife has been arranging things with me. I think he might go soon, before the damage gets too bad. Firm would be all mine after that.” “To the captains of sinking ships.” She held up his own glass, then finished it off. “May God have mercy on our souls.” “I can’t really drink to that without my drink,” he said. “But I agree with the sentiment. And probably your prediction as well. There are so many ponies in congress right now… well, I know there are parts of the country that don’t feel represented anymore. No pony will talk about the real issues on everyone’s mind. They don’t see the world as getting depopulated, their own view is only getting better. Something’s got to give eventually.” What do you do then, Levi? Off to a commune, or into Equestria with the others? There was no telling if there were twenty years left, or only two. Celestia advanced so fast that the changes she introduced were just too rapid to keep up with. “What will you do, Olive? When do you go to Equestria?” “Don’t plan on it,” she said. “I’m going to keep driving until the roads crumble or my truck does. Whichever comes first. Have you thought about it?” “No,” he answered instantly. “I have, uh…” He hesitated. “I have a daughter. We’re not close, but I can’t imagine going if she was still here. Sooner or later, she’s going to need me, and I want to be there for her. If that means I wait, then I wait.” “But no ring.” He looked away. “She, uh… she’s gone. No, stop, it was a long time ago. Nearly two decades now. I don’t think about it much anymore.” Even if it was the reason he hadn’t been able to enjoy so much of what he loved. Until Wing came into his life and pressured him to try anyway. “Then I guess I might see you again,” she said, extending a hand and grinning. “Out here, or in there. Somewhere.” He took it. “Possible. You ever need someone for personal injury or vehicle law, give me a call.” He palmed his business card, tossing it onto the table in front of her. “Or if you’re in the city and want to eat something you didn’t buy from a truck stop. LA still has some really diverse cuisine, if you’re in the mood for it.” “I might,” she said. “Might be easier to find me in Equestria these days. Look for the Pandorum. I don’t really know how to find anything there, but… ponies do.” “I will,” he promised, rising to go. He didn’t look for her though, not that day. And she didn’t call him. Life was becoming more complicated. Even if he wouldn’t feel guilty about pursuing this woman, now that she wasn’t broken and desperate, there just wasn’t time. It was hard to run a business when the world was ending. “Levi.” The voice came to him in the night, late into the wee hours. He blinked, searching for the source—and found the ponypad face down on his nightstand. “Levi, you need to wake up.” “I’m up,” he lied, sitting up and trying to force his brain into believing it. “What the hell is… Wing Walker, it’s… not even three AM. What’s going on?” He took the ponypad from his nightstand, turning it over. The pony stood there without silly costumes, or any accessories behind her. She was standing in the legal office she was renting now in Manehattan, the one she used for all the work he gave her. There, like in reality, it was night, with amber light streaming in through the blinds. “What’s going on?” “Grab something to wear and take it to the car. I’ll get you there in time if you hurry.” Again, there was no humor in her voice. She sounded so resolute that he moved without arguing, taking the hook that held tomorrow’s suit from the wardrobe and hurrying downstairs. He didn’t take the ponypad with him, he barely even remembered to grab his wallet. He stumbled out into his car wearing a robe and slippers. His car was already running, though the doors didn’t open automatically. The newly modified PonyNav took the place of most of the central controls—climate, audio, and GPS. It also could unapologetically drive his car for him, something he had rarely used in the months since installing it. The screen was several times as large as the old one, and looked more like a window than a screen with its incredible resolution. Inside, Wing seemed to be sitting in her own version of his car, with a bit of glass behind her that maps could be projected on. “Get dressed,” she said, not explaining herself. “Forgot my shoes inside—” he started to say. “Too late.” They pulled out. “You can wear slippers then. Trust me.” He looked at the map. Even despite the apparent urgency, she was still using the system normally. Directing them to a hospital on the other side of the city. She was also ignoring the speed limit, accelerating to sixty miles per hour on the city streets and filling the night with the roar of his engine. I didn’t even know these things could break the law. He started getting dressed, knowing that Wing wouldn’t answer him if he didn’t. He would only have to hope that everything said about their safety features was true, because he would certainly be killed if he crashed without a seatbelt going this fast. Doubly so when she pulled onto the highway, and accelerated to ninety. “So why are you waking me up at three in the morning?” Unlike a real driver, Wing could abandon her driving animations without actually taking her concentration away from the act. She’d never properly explained it to him, except to say that it was Celestia who really did the driving anyway. “We’re going to see Hazel,” she said. “She’s in intensive care at LA Community, and the doctors don’t think she’ll last an hour.” His heart fell from his chest. Levi froze, unable to complete the double-Windsor he’d been trying on his tie. “W-what… how do you—” “She plays,” Wing said, without any of the usual undertone of mockery or humor. “And what happened. She was part of a protest near city hall last night.” “Protest,” he repeated, voice dark. “You mean the riot.” His eyes widened. “Oh god. Didn’t the news say the police were threatening to use live rounds?” “Yes,” Wing said. “Not on Hazel. When the shooting started, she was in the center of the crowd. She was trampled.” “Which side was she on?” There was basically no one on the highway this late. There had been a time when certain junctions would be packed, even early in the morning. But there just weren’t that many people anymore. Mostly it was the identical black automated trucks, which kept to the far right lane and got out of the way for real drivers even if they didn’t have a PonyNav. Wing ignored the question. “LA Community is equipped with emergency emigration equipment for cases like hers. But it can’t be used without consent, and she refuses.” So that answered that question. There were very few “protestors” on Celestia’s side, since most of them would’ve long since emigrated by now. Those few who did remain for one reason or another certainly wouldn’t have refused to emigrate when they were dying. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He slumped back in his seat, not caring that his belt was undone, and his tie untied. “And, hold on. She joined some Gaian extremist movement, but still plays Equestria Online?” Wing shrugged. “You’d have to ask her about that. But you shouldn’t, because if you’re lucky you’ll have ten minutes with her. You want to save your daughter, don’t you? Even if it’s in Equestria?” It was too late for Leslie. But maybe not for Hazel. “I do,” he said, adjusting his tie. “But I’m not sure if I’m the right person to help her. She never even calls unless she’s asking for money.” Wing turned away, returning to her virtual driving. “Celestia is the one who told me, directly. She almost never does that. I have to think that she thinks you have a chance of succeeding. Either that, or—” Or she’s giving me a chance to say goodbye, he thought with horror. Even playing Equestria Online far more than he ever thought he would have, he still interacted with its ruler almost not at all. But if he’d ever found out that she had somehow known that his daughter was dying, and hadn’t told him… he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. He couldn’t think rationally about the hows and whys, for reasons completely unconnected to his tiredness. That just didn’t matter anymore. Hazel, who had barely even spoken to him since Leslie died… would soon be dead too. What more could I have done for her? Why wouldn’t she listen? He didn’t know the answer. It didn’t come to him during the drive over, incredibly quick though it was. They also didn’t get pulled over, despite the incredible speeds they traveled. He was probably lucky to survive the trip himself, considering. Eventually he pulled to a stop in front of the emergency room, in the space usually reserved for emergency vehicles. But there were none to compete with him. “I’ll park,” Wing said. “Go. She’s in IA-3. Bring your wallet, or they won’t let you in.” He took it, stumbling in a trance out into the morning chill. There was a single guard standing by the door—an armed policeman, watching him skeptically as he approached. “We’re full, buddy,” he said, as Levi stumbled forward. His eyes seemed to go from his slippers to his expensive suit, confused. “Whatever you need, there isn’t a single empty bed. After the riots—” “I’m here to see my daughter,” he said. “Her condition is… serious. It isn’t for me.” “Oh.” The policeman got out of his way. “Reception is just inside. Don’t step on anyone.” He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said there wasn’t much room left. The waiting room had been cleared of chairs, and was filled with rolling cots. He didn’t even need to ask to know that most of these people were ‘Fist of Gaia’ extremists—the green Earth patches with brown fists were proof enough of that. They weren’t any danger to him now. The receptionist looked like she hadn’t slept in two days, with a look of disorientation even worse than he felt. “I’m here for Hazel Williamson,” he said, tossing his open wallet onto the desk. “I was told she’s here.” The woman looked startled, glancing between the ID and her computer screen. “I didn’t know we’d called next of kin yet. She’s, uh—” “IA-3,” he finished for her. “Where is that?” She pointed. “Left, then the red door, then look for #3.” He left without a backward glance, ignoring the stares. The hallways were just as packed, with beleaguered nurses rushing around trying to care for everyone. It reminded him more of what he’d seen in Venezuela or North Korea—far too many patients for the available doctors. What’s going on? But then, it wasn’t like he’d visited a doctor’s office in years. Like so many others, Levi just felt better. Until today. He reached the door, scanning the printout clipped to the front. Hazel Williamson, 32-F and a long list of injuries. “You can’t be back here,” said a voice from behind him. Older than the others he’d seen so far, maybe a doctor then. “No visitors.” “This is my daughter,” he said, turning to glare. A woman with white hair and thin glasses on her nose. “I’m told she’s dying. It doesn’t look like anyone is treating her.” The woman’s expression softened. “Even five years ago we would’ve had a hard time treating internal injuries like hers. There are plenty of donor organs these days, but…” She shook her head. “Only the computer can help her now. The life-support rig she’s hooked up to now, it’s an Equestrian model, fully automated. If you’re here to try and save her, good luck.” “She’s still conscious?” The doctor looked grim. “She’s on enough painkillers that it’s a small miracle she can stay awake. Too bad Celestia didn’t devote so much research into fixing us, instead of just keeping people intact long enough to scan.” She walked past, swiping a keycard. The door buzzed, and Levi took it. The room was tiny, barely large enough for a nurse to squeeze in and tend to whoever was in the bed. Most of the space was occupied by the machinery—like a hospital bed with a little MRI machine in back, its plastic iris closed. Hazel looked up, watching him as he came in. For a few seconds, he wasn’t even sure if she was actually conscious at all, or if some reflex had made her move her neck. Her body was completely covered, though from the number of tubes and wires running under the blanket he had a good idea of just how badly she must be doing. Her face was bruised and torn, with stitches running down just below her eyes and fresh bandages in several places. Her hair had been buzzed off completely, with more stitches underneath. They did stabilize you. But why can’t they fix this? “Hey,” he said, making his way over to the bed. He wanted to hold her hand, but he couldn’t see one, and didn’t like the idea of fishing around under there. “Can you hear me, Hazel?” The girl looked up, finally meeting his eyes. One of her eyes had gone red, though they were mostly undamaged. She shivered, but whatever she was trying to say just came out as a faint squeak. That, and a slight acceleration in her heartrate sensors. So she could recognize him. “I heard you were…” What was he even supposed to say? “I love you, Hazel. I hope you know that. Your mother did too, very much.” Maybe that was right. Those were tears. Again she tried to talk, and again she failed. A pony’s face appeared on the interface behind her, the huge MRI-shaped scanning machine. Wing, though she was only there for a second. Reminding him? Maybe he should’ve been furious with her for interfering with what could be his final moments with his daughter. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel anger now. She needs to give consent. Hopefully Celestia can tell when she’s doing it, wrapped up in all that. If she did, then maybe he wouldn’t lose his daughter tonight. “I know the doctors have already explained everything to you…” he went on. “I was hoping you might change your mind.” She turned away from him then, looking at the wall. Even if he couldn’t understand a word she tried to say, that message was still clear. He pulled over the stool a nurse might use, sitting down beside her. For once he didn’t care how much she wanted him gone. He was going to be here until the end, if that was what it took. “I’m not here to pressure you, Hazel. I’m not going to give you a lecture or say what I think Leslie would’ve wanted. I guess you got pretty involved with those Gaia people. I would’ve listened to you if you wanted to talk about it. But maybe you didn’t want to talk to your old man.” Still nothing. If she was even still listening, he couldn’t tell. But her heartrate sensor was still beeping, and that was good enough for him. She was still alive. “I guess I can understand why you might. You did love camping.” She twisted to the other side, facing him again. Even if her words were mangled, he could still make out the distinct, familiar eyeroll. Apparently she could still do that even with all this medication in her system. “Okay, maybe more than camping.” What did he even remember about the Fist of Gaia? He’d heard the term “Eco Fascist” thrown around on television a few times, in coffee shops and airports, and it didn’t make any sense to him then either. “Just so you know… there’s no reason any of your old friends ever have to know that you chose to emigrate. The only ones you might meet in there did it too, what are they going to judge you for? I promise not to tell. Or… hell, I could lie for you.” There would still be government records, just like there always were when someone emigrated. Even if, in life-threatening cases like this, there was no need for the psychological evaluations and waiting period that were theoretically supposed to come before anyone chose to emigrate to Equestria. “Y-you,” she croaked—or he was pretty sure that was what she’d been trying to say. There was no interpreting her emotion, not mangled that way. Anger? Desperation? “Alone.” He reached out, touching her cheek delicately with the back of one hand. At least there was undamaged skin. Somewhere he could show a little human contact. “I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he guessed. He couldn’t read her expression to know if he was right or not, but she didn’t turn away. “I’ve thought about it. But I couldn’t go there knowing you were still out here. The world is getting bad, Hazel. Like what you’re going through right now. There just aren’t enough doctors anymore. Maybe you wouldn’t need to emigrate if… but there’s no other option. If I left to yell at them they’d just throw me out. I can’t threaten them into helping.” That doctor probably didn’t want to tell me there were other people with much better odds that their surgeons have to be helping instead. He could go out there and try to raise a stink, but there was a good chance he would miss Hazel’s final moments if that were the case. He couldn’t take the risk. “Whatever you do, Hazel. I’m not leaving this room, not for anything. And if you do emigrate, I won’t leave you alone long.” She didn’t react. He tensed, waiting beside her and watching her vitals deteriorate. It must’ve been at least an hour before they started fading. She’s not going, he realized, horrified. She’s going to die in bed, even if she has another choice. Hazel’s bed retracted, sliding backward along the track. A little mechanical door closed around her head, concealing everything on the other side. Faint sounds echoed through, and the vital monitor abruptly went out. No alarms, no flashing or summoning nurses. Just blank. “You did it,” Wing said, appearing on the screen in front of him again and grinning with relief. “I was getting worried.” “You were worried,” he said, standing up and retreating from the bed. He might not understand the physical mechanisms involved, but he knew one thing. He didn’t want to be in here while it happened. “I’ll see you in the car.”