Domino stood in the courtyard, alone. He’d been ready for his (admittedly minor) role in this heist for what felt like days now. The delay wore on him like an acid bath. He paced back and forth near the gates, shuffling uneasily in the clothing he’d chosen for the event, and feeling incredibly silly.
Living in Wintercrest meant his options were about what someone in the twenties might’ve been able to get their hands on. He could just as easily go naked, but that felt even stupider. So he dressed like an old noir detective, with a pistol and a heavy trench coat and a silly hat. Entirely pointless, but it made him feel better.
He kept checking his pocket watch, counting the minutes with painful slowness. Celestia would be here to pick them up any moment, and where were the others? Cold Iron isn’t my friend, why am I so upset? It would suck if we fail today, but it might be better for me if we did. I might not lose Arcane if she didn’t have a girlfriend waiting.
But just because there was no rational reason for him to be upset didn’t mean he was any calmer. He needed to get moving before he exploded.
Arcane Word emerged from the castle about two minutes before the deadline, and of course she’d decided to completely show him up with her outfit along with being far more important to the mission.
She, still. Every moment Domino expected Arcane to finally get that new avatar, and every time she decided to torment him for just a little longer. Just rip the band-aid off, Arcane. I get it, you don’t have to keep humoring me.
Or maybe she was tormenting him. Arcane was dressed to be seen, one who didn’t give the slightest buck about Wintercrest or realism for that matter. She wore tight socks in pink and white stripes on all four legs, along with silent leather shoes. And of course pony clothing never made any sense, like wearing a short skirt that was open at the back anyway, so it might as well not be there. Aren’t you going in to save your girlfriend? Does she want you dressing up like Harley Quinn for this?
But he didn’t dare ask. Of course none of them were physically traveling anywhere. There was no chance of actually being punished by dressing absurd.
“I must’ve done a good job if you’re staring at me like that,” Arcane said, sliding past him with a completely unfair grin on her face. Up close, he could see she was wearing some kind of utility belt under her costume, with little crystals stuck inside he recognized as recorded spells. The only practical part of her entire outfit. But that wasn’t the only thing he saw when she was that close.
He took a deep breath, turning slightly away from her. “Violet told me you took her out today,” he said instead. “I’ve seen how upset she’s been about you leaving. I don’t know what you said to stop her from being so sad, but it worked. That was sweet.”
Arcane settled onto her haunches right in front of him, flicking her mane slightly over her shoulder. But as casual as she acted, he could tell she’d taken just as much time with it as her performance for the other hackers. There were color coordinated clips running all the way down on one side, matching the accents on her skirt and tight top. “I’m glad she’s feeling better. I wish I’d talked to her about it sooner. Putting things off… doesn’t really work as a long-term strategy.”
He laughed nervously. “But you’re doing it for me. It’s not like the hackers helping us tonight would leave because your avatar is different. That’s all past us now. Shouldn’t you be… getting ready to see Cold Iron for the first time? What are the chances tonight goes poorly and all the computer people have to emigrate instead of getting shot?”
“High,” she said absently. “If I know anything about Celestia, it’s that every single bucking thing she does is a way of dicking people into emigrating. She can deny she murdered me all day and night, but it’s pretty obvious. Fifty bucks… fifty bits says that she sabotages the plan somehow and they all end up ‘happening’ to need to emigrate.”
That isn’t what I’m talking about. Arcane was purposefully avoiding the subject again.
“You can stop it,” he said, advancing on her. Finally he wasn’t embarrassed, or at least not controlled by his embarrassment so much that he didn’t speak his mind. He glared at her from inches away, forcing her to meet his eyes. She wasn’t getting out of it this time. “I know you’re trying to be kind to me by staying Arcane as long as you can. But sooner or later, it stops helping.”
His voice cracked with pain, but he ignored it this time. If he let her escape, he might never get another honest word out of her on the subject. “You’re rescuing your hacker girlfriend, I get it. She’s smarter than I am, and much prettier if I remember anything about her. Maybe you even got close to her because of my advice, back when I emigrated. Either way… doesn’t matter. I know we live forever down here. You can’t keep playing pretend because I…” He looked away. “Because I have feelings for someone who doesn’t exist. You can take off the costume.”
Emmet thought he knew Arcane pretty well, but suddenly her expression was incomprehensible. Was that… shame? Or guilt—maybe she was finally ready to admit what she’d done to him.
“I’m not wearing a costume, Emmet. I used to be, on Earth. In ways I… barely understood. But coming here changed that. I knew it would… that was why I’ve been waiting so long for it. If it wasn’t for my parents, I probably wouldn’t even be upset that Celestia forced me to emigrate.”
“Wait, what?”
Plum emerged from the castle behind Arcane, and for some reason it seemed like she’d had something similar in mind. But where Arcane did everything at eleven, Plum Blossom had chosen a subdued dress to match her dark coat, with slits for her wings. I should’ve thought of that.
But while he stared, Domino screamed internally. What the hell did Ashton mean? She’d already said she planned on changing avatars, she’d told like four ponies by now. Everypony except Violet, and probably her too now that they’d had the chance to really sit down.
“Hey,” Plum said, smiling weakly at him as she reached the gate. “Thanks for coming. Cold Iron wasn’t your friend, you don’t have to be here.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But it’s wrong for TiCon to lock them up like that. If I can do anything, then I want to be part of it.”
The portcullis began to rise of its own accord. He couldn’t hear anyone in the guardhouse to actually do the lifting. But there wasn’t anyone lowering the drawbridge either.
It landed with a thump, and Celestia was already standing near the edge. She’d done nothing to dress for the occasion—but now that he thought about it, Domino hadn’t ever seen her in anything but that metal regalia. But he wasn’t one of those ponies who wanted to live in her castle, so… he was overthinking things again.
The castle gate no longer led to Wintercrest, even though the foggy sky overhead hadn’t changed. Behind Celestia was the same busy Korean street, with dozens of towering buildings all packed in close together. Most of them were out of focus, and the few that weren’t looked a little run-down. The world was ending there was well as in the US, just in different ways. There were no cars on the road, and the only people on the sidewalk were generic, out-of-focus gray ponies.
“Everything is in place,” Celestia said. “The other teams prepare for their roles, or have already begun. Are each of you ready?”
Arcane was the first to respond. “As ready as we can be. I haven’t figured out how you’re going to force them to emigrate.”
If there had been “natural” ponies around, they probably would’ve been horrified by Arcane’s language. He’d spent enough time with the residents of Wintercrest to know that they saw Celestia the way the humans of centuries past had viewed God. Loving yes, but sometimes cruel. Even he winced at her tone.
But Celestia only raised an eyebrow. “I am not permitted to force humans to emigrate, Arcane Word. I require consent for any changes to an intelligent creature’s mind.”
Arcane glared back. “I never gave consent for you to hit me with a truck.” She fumed for a few more seconds, shaking her head. “There’s nothing we can do about it. I’d rather turn them over to you than leave them to TiCon. Let’s do this.”
Plum stared, eyes wide with horror. “Lady Arcane, are you saying… why would you get Celestia involved if… she was going to hurt Cold Iron, or any of the others?”
Arcane didn’t seem to care that Princess Celestia was right in front of them. But she had been hit by a truck, so maybe she was allowed to be angry. “Princess Celestia is their best hope, Plum. I’m just realistic about the way she acts. We’re going to be complicit in helping them emigrate, even if they don’t want to. Even if right now they’re staying in a deathcamp instead of listening to her. That’s… all this whole thing really is. Nothing stops her from blasting people, she did it to me. She probably has enough military might to dismantle the place without anyone in the outside world even looking twice. But she doesn’t. We’re involved because she thinks our help is more likely to change their minds.”
“You’re half right,” Celestia said, shrugging a wing conversationally. “Helping a friend is its own reward. Hundreds of ponies have been involved with the project, from one end of Equestria to the other. When we are successful tonight, they will each leave satisfied, knowing they made a difference in the Outer Realm, and with a stronger sense of group identity. Many new friendships have formed, or will in the years to come, made possible thanks to our success.”
“If, right?” Domino asked. He made his way past her, to the edge of the bridge. “We haven’t actually saved them yet. We don’t know if it’s going to work out.”
Celestia shook her head. “The universe might seem random and unpredictable, but that’s only a matter of perspective. The more information one correlates, the more confident those predictions become. I am certain our objectives will be achieved.”
“Don’t bother.” Arcane rested a hoof on his shoulder, before he could ask the obvious question. “She isn’t going to explain. Let’s just save our hackers. They might not be happy when they get here, but… they’ll thank us in the end.” She stepped off the edge of the bridge, vanishing in a flash of magic. Plum followed close behind her.
Only then did Celestia answer the question that was really on Domino’s mind. “I’m not angry with them,” she said. “Arcane is welcome to tell herself that she resents me for forcing her. But listen to her—we have the same goals. I’m not concerned with how she feels about me, or Equestria. Don’t be either.” Celestia gestured, and Emmet followed her across the bridge and out of sight.
Arcane Word appeared after only a brief instant of magical teleportation. At first, she couldn’t have identified it as any different than the simulations they’d been using for practice and training since she’d first gathered ponies together. She stood in the garage that Celestia used for hardware storage and deployment—though this time, the machines were active. Drones hung in racks along one wall, generic pony shapes ready for deployment, along with modular repair stations and rechargers and a few boxes of spare parts. There was no space for a human worker to pass between all these machines, only a track along the ceiling and modular arms that slid along them.
The garage door was shut this time, and even though there were no windows, Arcane could hear the sound of real foot-traffic on the other side. Humans moving together in small groups, speaking in a language she shouldn’t understand. She did anyway, because Equestria took care of petty inconveniences like that. But their words were unimportant, and she didn’t listen for long.
There was an open door in the wall, not even pretending to look like it belonged. The doorway was layered atop a rack of servers. Through was a set of wooden stairs, with amber light coming from below.
Plum appeared with her own little flash of magic, catching up in a few strides. She stopped beside Arcane, speaking in a low whisper. “Do you really think Celestia is going to force Iron to emigrate?”
She nodded. “I think she’s going to engineer the situation, so he doesn’t have another choice. I think she’s telling the truth about never forcing people directly. She can’t mind control, but she’s free to manipulate. And there’s no one better.”
“I just want Min-seo to be safe,” Plum whispered. “Even if it’s here in Equestria.” She hurried down the steps, leaving Arcane alone.
I can’t believe Domino thinks I’m waiting for Iron to be my girlfriend. “Me too.” I wonder if Min-seo’s family knows he isn’t going to switch either. Sure seems like Plum does.
She felt the surge of magic behind her, like the sensation against her ears while descending from altitude in a passenger jet. A second later, Domino slid past her, grinning stupidly. “I dunno about you, but I’m ready to be a super-spy.”
“You look more like a Thomas Malone than a James Bond, but I’ll let it slide.” It looks good either way.
She headed down the stairs as quickly as she could, not wanting to give him the chance to question her further. She’d basically told him everything he needed to figure out the truth, right? It couldn’t be that hard to tell what she really meant. She wasn’t exactly good at hiding it.
The new basement looked exactly as she imagined a heist might use for its staging area, which was probably why Celestia had designed it that way. A low, round table, with a giant whiteboard running around one side of the room and shelves of fancy-looking equipment on the other side.
The table wasn’t wood, though, but an interactive display, showing TiCon’s compound with hundreds of little flags for each point of interest and every aspect of the plan.
There weren’t even that many seats. Six in all, half occupied by members of Arcane’s own group.
She recognized two of the others. Event Horizon and Murky Pond, who had committed so many of their own resources to this. She’d known since the meeting that they were involved, but seeing them here… made everything feel a little more official. “Arcane Word,” Horizon said, as she came in. “The lady of the hour graces us. Wasn’t sure if you’d run out of courage. No chance to recompile if we get them killed, eh?”
She made a show of fluffing up the cushion, settling down with all the dignity she imagined for Arcane Word. Playing a character perhaps, but this time it was a comfortable kind of pretend. A kind that made her feel more like the pony she wanted to be, instead of less.
“She’s not bothered,” the bat said. “This is Arcane. Iron stole the NPC code from her. If Iron dies, she’ll just make a new one. It would be… karmic.” Murky had always been a bit of a dick. But for all its virtues, the Scene was not known for civility.
“Celestia won’t let us fail,” said the stranger. A unicorn, one who had apparently been listening to Arcane before, because he was dressed in a fine black and white tuxedo. There might have even been a Walter PPK tucked into the vest. “If this plan wasn’t good enough, we’d still be coming up with better ones. Relax, ponies. We’re only here to achieve the success that’s already ours.”
“Says the cog,” Murky said. “You ‘in her Majesty’s service’ types always come off as a little fanatical, you know that?”
“I’m afraid we haven’t met. Arcane Word, if you didn’t know.” Arcane extended a polite hoof across the table. “I thought our team was going to have five.”
He took it, matching her politeness perfectly. A fellow pony of culture, playing a role. “Agent, Smooth Agent. I’m afraid I can’t tell you why, or what motivated Celestia to invite me.”
“Cold Iron would be grateful for all the help he can get,” Plum said nervously. But it wasn’t the first time she’d acted that way. She always seemed so intimidated around the other members of the Scene. She was a secretary, not a force of her own. I’m glad mine isn’t like that. If I’m always in the lead, then everything is too predictable. What’s the point?
“And he will have it,” Smooth Agent said. “Have no fear, Celestia’s attention is fixed upon us this evening. When we’re done tonight, we’ll have a story suited to film adaptation for years to come. Which is good, since there will soon be a dearth of real drama in the Outer Realm.”
“Is someone going to say what we’re actually going to do?” Domino said. He hadn’t even joined them at the table, but had gone straight for the whiteboard, along with all seventy-eight of its illustrated steps. Pictures of the ponies from each team were all connected with thread, along with detailed notes describing their contributions to the escape effort. “I know I’m going to be… holding a room or something? But beyond that, I don’t know why I’m here. Arcane?”
“Right.” She rose from her seat, joining him by the whiteboard. “We can’t make the other teams move faster. We might as well review one last time before we start.”