//------------------------------// // Chapter 16: Sisquoc // Story: FiO: Homebrew // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Domino watched from the ramparts as the hackers began to arrive. Even if he’d known absolutely nothing about the upcoming visit, he would’ve known instantly the sort of people he was dealing with. These ponies didn’t come in from Wintercrest, but appeared along the streets of Tortuga in explosive flashes of lights, riding chariots drawn by dragons, and other such overbearing nonsense. Then there were some who didn’t walk up at all, appearing only as they crossed the portcullis below and arrived in the castle, wearing robes that covered their faces at all times. A slight majority of the ponies appearing seemed to belong to this later caste, showing nothing of themselves and saying almost nothing to anypony in attendance. Paranoid about their privacy, even in a world where they had none at all. “So many,” Plum whispered, leaning up over the railing to watch them come. It was more than just the approaching creatures now, ponies on the street crowded close and stared, watching everypony flow in. “I didn’t think Cold Iron had so many friends.” She sounded wistful, distant, and maybe a little like Arcane did when she spoke to Plum. Jealousy? “You care about her very much, don’t you?” “Well, uh…” Plum looked away. “Him, her… it’s very confusing. Min-Seo sometimes, but that was only after we got kidnapped. Before that, he was Cold Iron. We worked together a lot in Equestria. Didn’t see her outside. Gets… confusing, after a while. Our stupid monkey brains don’t know how to reconcile.”  She hopped down from the railing, wings folding awkwardly to her sides. She’d dressed up for this important meeting, in a pony version of a fancy pantsuit. The outfit had everything except the heels, which probably would’ve violated some animal protection law in Equestria if they existed. Or maybe just common sense. “I’m sorry, rambling. I’m not making any sense.” “No, I know exactly what you mean.” He followed her back towards the stairs. “There’s something wonderful about being the partner of a pony who’s out there making a difference. Arcane… builds things that matter, or she did. But I don’t really understand her, and it’s hard to tell if she wants me to be part of her life.” Plum turned back, stopping right in front of him. She took his hoof, nodding knowingly. “You know what I know. Sidelined, forgotten. Unknown. They barely see us. Sidekicks need to stick together.” He patted her on the head, grinning. “We will. I don’t have a bucking clue what’s going on down there, but I’ll be there with you every step of the way for moral support. Telling a room full of people about all this… I know it’s gonna be hard.” She nodded gravely. “Hard, yes. But… good.” She held out her wing, gesturing out at the busy street and the flood of ponies into the castle below them. “Watching the world end, it felt like nobody cared about each other anymore. No one knows your names, families are cut into little pieces. But this… this proves that they still care. It all…” Her voice grew distant, almost awed. “I thought it all died, but it didn’t. It came here.” He could almost see Celestia standing behind her, watching expectantly. This was the help she’d demanded. A small price to pay for Violet’s life. He probably would’ve said it anyway. “I know you thought coming to Equestria was like… dying, or whatever. But doesn’t this prove it isn’t? Most of these ponies are emigrated too, but here they all are. Looks like we might get… over a thousand ponies, all to save your friend.” Plum sniffed, slumping onto her haunches and looking up. She couldn’t meet his eyes, not with the tears she couldn’t get rid of. “If we… if we understood… we wouldn’t have to suffer. If I could only make them see, they could escape right now. We suffered for nothing. Months of pain… and we could’ve walked into this place.” He hugged her. Plum Blossom might come from another culture, and clearly didn’t have the same standards about physical contact that he did. But he couldn’t help it. The little pony obviously needed a hug.  She didn’t fight him this time. If anything, she seemed relieved, letting him hold her there for a silent minute. “I’m glad you were here,” she whispered. “Equestria feels… safe, because of you. I see the way you love your sister. No better proof that you’re alive.” “We all are,” he answered. “Even the ones who aren’t yet. Just talk to them for long enough, and they’ll be alive too.” He held her for a few more seconds, before spreading his wings and rising again. “Probably should get inside about now, though. Your chance to be a hero. Err… again. You were already a hero when you got here.” Plum wiped her eyes one last time, fixing her mane with a few nervous strokes with one hoof. “No. The ponies down there are the heroes—but I’m ready to pretend.” During his few visits to Arcane’s retail storefront, Domino had always been struck by just how much it resembled the castle that he lived in on a daily basis. It was effectively the same place, transposed strangely and stripped of all the furniture ponies needed. It had been completely transformed. When he stepped into the modest ballroom beside Plum, he felt a moment of vertigo, staring down into a space that stretched further than the castle was long. “Bigger on the inside,” Plum whispered, approving. A bright red carpet ran down the center, with stadium-style elevated rows packed with chairs and desks for magical workings. Many were already full, complete with computer-looking setups that never would’ve been allowed in Wintercrest. But despite the bits of architecture resembling the part of Equestria Domino had come to know, this wasn’t Wintercrest. They made their way up the aisle, through a menagerie of strange ponies. Strange transparent outfits, cybernetic wing enhancements, constant particle effects that swirled and danced around their hooves. And of course, the ones who hid their identities completely within black robes. The only consistent feature he could see was the number of unicorns—nine ponies in ten had chosen that race, and the ones who hadn’t carried an abundance of other tools and devices to make up for their lack of magic. “If this place was real, the smell would probably make it hard to walk,” he whispered. But she didn’t seem to understand what he meant, just looking confused. He didn’t press the bad joke. There was a set of curtains at the front of the room, with a stage and a projector that would’ve seemed completely at home at any Earth presentation. He parted the curtains for her, then slipped in behind her. Arcane had really outdone herself in preparation for her presentation, picking an oversized multilayered dress as gaudy in its own way as all the visiting ponies had dressed. Her hair was swept back in a braid, with little gemstones and feathers mixed in. He didn’t stare, honest. Why do you take this body so seriously if you aren’t going to keep it? All that work just… thrown away. He gritted his teeth, forcing an awkward smile as he approached. “Arcane, we’re here!” She turned to the side, blushing awkwardly from behind the presentation mirror and glancing in his direction. “Domino!” Her face lit up, and she rose, pushing past the mare doing her makeup and settling in front of him. It wasn’t just visual, either. She had a new perfume, like some kind of tropical fruit. The one Plum was always eating? I’m imagining things. She’d have no reason to do that. “Good, I was getting worried.” He’d never seen so much makeup on a pony, but as with most things she did, it didn’t seem like overkill, but like a carefully crafted decision. What was worse, she seemed to realize he was staring at her, because she tilted her head slightly to one side, grinning at him. “How do I look? Like ponies should take me seriously?” Like you’re trying to put on a performance. Like you’re the prettiest fake pony that ever lived. “Y-yeah,” he stammered, shuffling uncomfortably on his hooves. “Plum is ready when you need her, right Plum?” She nodded weakly. “I’m, uh… yeah! Ready to tell them everything. Do you think they’ll listen, Arcane? Can you get them to save my friends?” “I’m going to try,” she answered, reaching out and settling one hoof on her shoulder. “This is our chance to show everypony we take care of our own. I’m not going to waste it.” Plum whimpered, wiping a few tears from her face. Compared to Arcane, she might as well have come in naked. But there was something simple and charming about her, something that the perfectly-produced and beautiful Arcane couldn’t imitate. She was what Arcane’s fake pony pretended to be. “I have a box for you two,” she said, gesturing under the edge of the curtain, right up front. It was set below ground level, where they wouldn’t be stared at by the crowd. But also close enough that it would only be a few steps for Plum when it was her turn. “It will be just how we talked about, Plum. I’ll ask you to rehearse what happened after you got kidnapped, and what conditions were like there. Remember to focus on anything you know about the security measures locking you in, okay?” She nodded, wrapping one leg around Domino’s. He didn’t tense at her touch this time, just holding as still as he could for her. If she needed strength, he would be there. Arcane’s face twitched slightly—probably at something he hadn’t noticed behind him. She gestured curtly for the stairs, spinning back around. “I need to go over my stuff one last time. Don’t run off.” She left, stalking back across the stage towards her attached dressing room and the waiting makeup-pony. Plum watched her go, expression strained. “This is why I can’t be one of these ponies,” she whispered. “Every one of them is insane.” Her eyes just got wider as the slipped out from behind the curtains and down into the protected box. “They only get crazier in Equestria than they were outside.” “I can say that with confidence,” he said, settling into one of the comfortable seats. “But maybe there are… extenuating circumstances. Like Arcane Word up there. She didn’t want to be in Equestria until she died. Oldest kid, thought her parents were counting on her. They probably were, really… but she made some kind of deal with Celestia, and lost.” “I know what that’s like,” Plum muttered, dropping her head to her knees. “She keeps the myth alive, that she never lies. But she can. She can promise you anything if she wants to. And when you get here…” “You can change your mind too,” Domino said, wrapping one wing briefly around her shoulder. “I thought you didn’t hate Equestria anymore.” “I…” She looked up, out over the edge of the box and the assembled crowd of eccentric ponies. Finally she shook her head. “I’ll decide if we get my friends back safe. Not before.” It didn’t take long, just a few more minutes, before the huge ballroom doors slammed shut and the curtains finally opened.  Arcane stepped out, into a pregnant silence and thousands of watching eyes. She shifted and twitched under all that attention, though at least her thick powder and makeup meant she didn’t seem to sweat. “Thank you to everypony who took the time to join us today, particularly those who are still meat side. You should all know why you’re here, so I’ll make this as brief as I can. “Members of our community were captured and imprisoned by TiCon Systems, and threatened with death if they wouldn’t construct a specified piece of arcane software. There is no chance they’ll be able to complete this project without our help. But if we complete it for them, we might be able to get them out alive.” She went through background information with the assembled hackers, reviewing the message Plum had delivered along with information she’d apparently collected from Celestia herself about the facility their hackers were being held. The longer she went, the more ponies began to slip away, rising from their seats one after another. At least they exited quietly, though some part of him stiffened with anger at every set of shuffling hooves. They weren’t even going to hear her out?  “Almost my turn,” Plum whispered fearfully. “Wish me luck.” He squeezed her a little closer with one feathery wing. “You’ll do fine, Plum. You were there. I’m sure these ponies want to hear about your experiences.” “We have that messenger with us,” Arcane said, almost at that moment. “She was captive with the other eight for several weeks. She can tell us about conditions there.”’ Plum rose from the booth, making her shaky way onto the stage. Arcane offered her the microphone, and she started explaining. About the thugs who had come for them in the night, and the conditions inside the facility. Their enemies weren’t comically evil villains making them sleep outside and feeding them dead rats. They were kept inside a fancy office-block, and given the best food and computers to work on. Only those computers were surrounded by soldiers, and anyone who refused to work was shot. Finally she was done, and made to leave the stage. Arcane stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder. “I can see there are some questions. Please don’t go yet.” She whimpered, settling back onto her haunches. Emmet glanced back at the crowd. A good number of them were still here, maybe two thirds of the seats that had initially been occupied. Could be worse. At least some of them care. The first speaker from the audience came from up near the front. He sounded very much like there was a human behind the keyboard somewhere, and that he didn’t really care about much of what had been said. But maybe that was just the way he spoke. “That’s enough background, I think all of us agree. We need to know the project TiCon expects. Explain the diagrams you sent out for the idiots who showed up.” Arcane waited for Plum, watching her shift nervously under the pressure. Her wings twitched, and she looked like she might run. She can’t explain it. She’s not really good at this. Arcane didn’t leave her to the wolves. “I’ve had a long time to analyze the work done by our kidnapped friends. TiCon Systems is closer to understanding how simulated pony minds work than any previous work I’ve seen. I believe they’re attempting to design a… hostile pattern. A spell, or… more likely, a series of images, which exploit flaws in the way a pony’s inheritance trees interface with low-level sensory input and visual processing.” “A mind-bomb,” somepony called. “That they can use on ponies from Equestria?” “Yes,” Arcane said. “Or… more like a mind-virus. Unicorns can create simple illusions with magic almost any of us can reach. I’m sure the goal would be to spread it as far as possible.” “To do what?” asked another voice from near the front. Female this time, her body tall and elegant. She was one of the unicorns with cybernetic wings, and a black and red color-palette that Domino couldn’t look at without feeling like he’d just been hit with his own private mind-bomb. “To kill us? What’s the fucking point?” “Some of us are emigrated,” said someone else, angry. “We don’t want to be murdered by our own mind-virus.” The cybernetic pony stood up, glaring across the room at the speaker. “No, I mean… there are half a dozen reasons why it wouldn’t work. Even if… let’s pretend it’s possible for a moment, maybe it is. We write a virus that spreads between unicorns and… makes thousands of ponies delete themselves. Or millions, or however many. Anyone familiar with how Equestria works should be able to name the flaws.” Arcane herself spoke up, tapping on the microphone with a hoof to get the room’s attention. “There are subroutines monitoring each one of us. If we started… deleting ourselves, she would notice, and she could stop all of Equestria while she manually deleted this spell from every place it appeared. We couldn’t make it mutable enough for her not to recognize, even if we wanted to make this thing.” “So we’re not actually delivering a useful weapon,” somepony said. “We can sleep at night. We’re just wasting their time. But TiCon went to a lot of trouble to get this thing, didn’t they? Shouldn’t they know it won’t work?” “Maybe,” Arcane said. “Maybe not. Celestia has been aggressively targeting the ponies who understand her for years. She started with machine learning researchers, and branched out. The ones left over might really think they can just… bomb Equestria this way.” “Like we don’t have shards,” said another voice. “Like Celestia doesn’t keep backups. This is so stupid.” “Too stupid,” the cyber-unicorn said. “I don’t think we should waste any time on it. Does anypony in here want to risk we actually succeed at killing somepony? Because I sure as fuck don’t want Celestia pissed at me.” General agreement echoed through the room, along with more ponies getting up to leave. All those who had wanted to work on the bomb, maybe. “So what do you propose?” asked the front-row pegasus who had spoken first. “We let this stand? Let every government and company fuck with our own?” “No,” she said. “Obviously not. But think of this—we have knowledge of TiCon’s security procedures. We have a way to deliver a payload right into their systems, if we need to. I bet across the people in this room, we’ve got enough IRL resources to make something happen in Busan. I say we make an example out of these idiots. We’ll turn every system they have into a smoldering crater. And—hear me out on this one—these guys were trying to make a mind-bomb. A lifetime supply of bits says that Celestia herself will be more than happy to help us get revenge for her. Make sure nobody else has that bright idea.” As though her words had been a spell, there was suddenly another pony on the stage. Celestia towered over Arcane, and made her beautiful dress and carefully-crafted wardrobe look gaudy and childish. A few ponies gasped, though those up front seemed unsurprised.  There’s some kind of hierarchy here. Not many of these ponies seem willing to speak. Too bad Plum was still on the stage now cowering behind the curtains to be as far away from Celestia as possible. “Ponies inside and outside Equestria,” the princess said. She didn’t use the waiting microphone, yet didn’t seem to need to. Her voice cut through the confusion without apparent effort. “Event Horizon speaks correctly. I have come to offer whatever resources you think might be necessary to rescue the ponies TiCon Systems is holding captive.” “How about a fuckin’ gunship?” someone called from the back of the crowd. “Just shoot the place open!” Domino froze in horror—only a second after her arrival and her offer of assistance, and someone was apparently mocking her offer with an incredibly stupid request. But the princess didn’t sound upset. Maybe she couldn’t be upset. “TiCon Systems correctly believes they have some of the last and most capable computer engineers in the world. If they knew an external force was trying to free them, they would certainly destroy them first.” Painful silence settled on the room, harsh enough that there weren’t even any dumber suggestions for Celestia. “It would’ve been pointless to make the bomb,” said the first pegasus. “TiCon would just have kept them locked up. Or worse, killed them when they weren’t useful anymore.” “More likely the former,” Celestia said. “Many organizations that have retained some measure of internal cohesion no longer believe in respecting the will of external authority. They will hold whatever resources they can, as long as they can.” “Or they won’t, because we’ll get them the hell out,” said another pony from the front row, or… not a pony. This one was a changeling, with a shiny black coat and holes at various points in his limbs. One of the few non-ponies in the room. “It can’t be that hard. We have everything about their security. They just pissed off… everybody.” “But, uh…” Plum called from the edge of the stage, quiet enough that at first nopony seemed to hear her. Except Arcane, who offered her a helpful microphone. “We need to be careful, don’t we? If we’re just going to try and break them out… TiCon might kill them.” “Indeed,” Celestia said. “And every one of them has refused emigration, as Plum testified to you. Otherwise you would not be here to have this meeting.” “I thought it would come to this,” Arcane Word said, taking her microphone back. “With the help of… with some help, I’ve constructed a scale recreation of the TiCon facility, complete with every security measure we know of inside and out.” Her horn flashed, and a crystal appeared in the air in front of her, hovering there. “I’ve got three of them connected to my headquarters here right now, and I know many of you will have the facilities to run these.” “That’s a Shardmap,” said the pegasus, annoyed. “What if some of us real people want to work on this? We can’t take that out of Equestria.” “You can’t,” she agreed, glaring at him. “Don’t bitch at me, Storm Crow. If TiCon catches a sniff of this, they could move our rabbits, or maybe shoot them, or change everything. Keeping it internal means Celestia can screen for us.” The princess chuckled. “Not the way I’d describe it, but yes. If you wish to be of more assistance to the project, Storm Crow, you should emigrate and contribute from here.” He stood up, his computer vanishing from in front of him in a flash of light. “Screw this. I already got up in the middle of the night for your pixels. Peace.” He vanished. Arcane winced, apparently watching as dozens of others got up and did the same. Domino rose onto his hooves, peeking up over the edge of the box. Less than half of the ponies who had originally arrived to help were still here. “Anybody else gonna whine?” Arcane looked around the room, glowering at them. No one did, and after a few more seconds, she went on.  “I have a few simulations to work with. I’ve used Equestria Girls code for the humans—don’t bitch about that either, it was the best I could manage. Anyone who wants a copy can get a copy, or if you want time on my shards, feel free to do it that way too.  “I figure that all of us running our own versions of the rescue will eventually reach something with good odds of working. Anypony willing to contribute time or resources, stick around when we’re done. Even if you don’t think you’re going to be the one with the brilliant plan, we still might need your help. You might have botnets, or drones, or… whatever you’ve got, we might need it. “Everypony else, that’s it. If you know anypony who might be able to pitch in, get them here.” She lowered the microphone, walking out to the edge of the stage. “Don’t let them fuck with us. We’re getting our people back.”