//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Musca // Story: Hour of Twilight // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Jamie settled onto the bed of her strange new quarters, closing her eyes and letting the silence enfold her like a blanket. The skylight in the center of her room had gone dark now with the coming of night, but she didn’t yet feel tired. Jamie had survived the end of the world. True, she’d paid with her humanity to pass through the door into summer—but considering the alternatives, she’d take that trade. Now the Empire’s toast, along with anything that ever mattered to me. It’s a fresh start everywhere. Shy hadn’t been particularly demanding with her on her first day. She’d shown her around the house, explaining the strange restrooms, the various rooms she was allowed to enter, and the parts of the house she had to avoid. Though… it wasn’t a house so much as a vast compound of caves and carved rooms, probably big enough to hold a hundred people. The front looked like a house, but behind tapestries and false walls was much more space—including Jamie’s own bedroom.  If the other sections are hidden as well, there could be way more of them than just this one, she thought. Who knows what she’s hiding here? Jamie had no doubt in her mind that her host had her own secrets—probably more than Jamie did, since she’d just told the pony everything. Jamie had the power of being incomprehensible when she tried to get specific, which was almost as good. Jamie didn’t much care what those secrets were. This wasn’t her world, she had no investment in the struggles of its residents. Sure, she was likely to believe whatever side Shy said was the “good guys,” but that was really only a question of first exposure. She isn’t on the same side as whoever sends out ‘Commissars,’ so we’re probably going to land in the same place.  Jamie had unpacked her meager possessions into the wardrobe, though there wasn’t much there. A few extra pairs of underclothes and some camping supplies she’d probably never need again, plus the gold for trade. That one was going to take some working out… The bedroom was both bigger and smaller than the one she had in the shelter. Bigger in square footage, but smaller because the ceiling was cut to a reasonable height, not vast arches that made her feel like a tiny intruder in her own home. Her tablet lit up suddenly, its dark screen waking with a few angry flashes. Jamie groaned, rolling out of bed and making her way over. Some part of her had suspected this—the skylight was bound to give Epsilon a better signal to her. It wasn’t going to let her hide from the devil’s deal she’d made. As soon as she got close, the “unread messages” text melted away to the chat app, selecting the new conversation with Epsilon automatically. Sure enough, a message had just appeared, with a timestamp of only a few seconds old. “I believe your hardware became critically damaged after your climbing accident. It is imperative you take the first available opportunity to flee the correction agent settlement and get far enough for transport back.” Jamie considered if she should pretend she couldn’t get this message too. But sooner or later she’d be stretching credulity, and the AI might very well lock out the tablet if it thought that someone besides her had got their hooves on it. She wasn’t ready to give up her games just yet. “Why?” she typed. “I’ve been given a place to stay with a sympathetic local. She promises to tell me about their civilization.” Typing it out was painfully slow, even with the new adaptive keyboard design. The screen lit up and magnified as she moved her hoof across, with the keys closest to her getting absurdly large. Big enough for her to actually tap them with stupid stumps. It meant exaggerated movements and painful deliberation. But then the message flashed, and “successfully delivered” appeared beneath it. She waited as the minutes passed, for the AI to stupidly insist she do whatever it imagined she should. They weren’t well-known for being adaptable, that was part of the point.  But almost ten minutes had passed before she finally got a response. “Do not tell them anything that could be used to find the Emergency Shelter. If you stay, you will be in extreme danger.” “If I went back, I’d be in extreme danger of losing my damn mind,” she replied. “Report every night with what you learn,” Epsilon replied, much quicker this time. “Expect a withdrawal order as soon as we learn enough to successfully negotiate.” “I’m not sure what the hurry is. I know that pods are failing, but doesn’t that happen on the scale of decades, not days? We shouldn’t hurry into this.” Epsilon didn’t reply. After waiting for a few frustrated minutes, Jamie took the computer to bed with her and curled up with some light reading. If she looked up in bed, she could see the stars through the skylight’s cloudy glass. She watched for a few hours before she finally slept, searching for the little flashes of any of the thousands of floating platforms. She didn’t see a single one. No streak of a skyhook bringing cargo, or even the red and green flashes of an atmospheric aircraft. It’s really gone. She’d known that it would be, intellectually. You didn’t crawl into a shelter because you thought the civil war was ending peacefully. But there was knowing it, and seeing the homes of a trillion people just gone.  You don’t know that for sure. The shell could be in better shape. Most people didn’t live around homeworld anyway. Jamie picked one of the strange-smelling pillows, clinging to it the way she wished someone would be there to cling to her. Eventually she cried herself to sleep. Star Orchid hadn’t had the most enjoyable last few days. It wasn’t just that hiking through the wilderness when she’d rarely walked more than a mile in a day was trying for her body, though it certainly was. It wasn’t just that they were traveling through a jungle so unfriendly she found herself constantly wishing Concord would pass overhead and turn the soil over for everypony’s own good. It was all that, and her insufferable companion.  Geist hadn’t just insisted on taking a form that would fill her with embarrassment and shame, even when she asked her to change. Geist insisted on acting the part every moment, as though he really was the Ginny character he’d invented, and the two of them really were eloping from Concord and its strict standards of behavior. “You should be nicer to me!” she squeaked, carrying on ahead, flying lazily just out of reach. She was always so clean, so elegantly groomed, instead of covered with grime and dirt. “We’re going to be there soon, and you’ll have to start. It’s hard to get into character so fast.” Star never would’ve wanted to give up her magic for flight before, but now… maybe there were some advantages to being a pegasus. She stopped walking even so, glaring up at the spy. “The two of us will be doing everything together. I think it will be pretty convincing. Even if we’re not very close—running across the world to get away from Concord would strain any relationship. Of course we’re in a rough patch.” Ginny landed beside her, flipping her tail feathers in a way that was either dismissive or evocative. Well, it was certainly both. Given she was a changeling, Star had no doubt she knew it, too. “You’re going to have to learn to enjoy your work a little more, Star. If you barely follow our instructions, you’re going to get inferior results. Throw yourself into the work. Make the disguise so authentic you’re sad it’s gone afterwards.” “No.” She gritted her teeth, shoving past the bird. She tried to push her into the mud, but Ginny weighed too much, and she wasn’t even pushed over. “It’s wrong. I’m walking Harmony’s path, and that obedience doesn’t just come when it’s convenient. Just because I’ve agreed to disobey to follow the higher calling we’ve been given doesn’t mean I’m going to go a step further. That’s the slippery slope that leads to disobedience, disharmony, and chaos.” Ginny shrugged, drifting past her in the air. “We’ll see how long you last. Those are city morals, right there. It’s easy to grow morals in a laboratory. But how will you be in a month? What if this mission takes a year, will you still be avoiding me? You think ponies won’t notice just how tense we are with each other?” What in Harmony’s name did I do to anger the princess so badly that she put me with him? she wondered, gritting her teeth together in silence as she walked. She was probably digging a trench through the mud as they went, but she was too angry to care. The stupid changeling had obviously chosen this whole plan specifically for his own ends. He wanted love to harvest, and he’d made a scenario where he could get it. The stories of their reform must be wrong. He’s a parasite in Twilight’s court. I’ll have to tell her. But to do that, she would have to make it back. The further she trekked through the jungle, the less likely a safe return to civilization seemed. Concord might be flying towards the east coast, maybe all the way back to the Dragonlands. I’m supposed to be Twilight’s advisor. I’m supposed to be in a comfortable chair in the court, reading books and passing messages. I’m supposed to make her tea. Ginny actually stopped tormenting her for a good long while, until the afternoon turned to early evening. Star stopped at the first stretch of bare ground she could, struggling with her straps—but this time Ginny put a claw on her shoulder to stop her. “Wait. We’re not making camp here.” The teasing was gone, and there was nothing flirtatious in her eyes just now. “We have a meeting scheduled tonight, we can’t miss it.” “With who?”  “High Commissar Golden Shine,” she said. “He’s going to be waiting for us a little outside the city. We have to hike to him, then hike back here to spend the night.” “Right, Commissars.” She groaned, then started walking again. She wasn’t quite sure if they were going the right way—she didn’t know how to navigate outside of Concord, after all. But whenever she made a mistake Ginny was there to correct her, and so she’d stopped worrying. The spy might be insufferable, but at least he knew where he was going. I hope. We might be walking straight down to nowhere and I’d never realize until our food ran out. “Why are we meeting with a Commissar?” she asked. “Wouldn’t that, like… blow our cover?” “That’s why we’re meeting so far away,” Geist answered. She remained entirely serious, like a switch they’d flipped. “We have to make sure they’re ready to put the pressure on. For our disguise to really pay off, we need to be seen like good recruits. And nothing makes better recruits than resentment.” She didn’t have long to think about that—a little further into the dark, and they found a makeshift camp tucked into the hollow of a cliff. Geist knew exactly where he was going, where to push aside dark cloth and reveal a space lit by a bright purple crystal. There was no need for a fire when the oppressive heat of the jungle never truly released them.  Commissar Golden Shine was like something out of a textbook—his armor was bright and polished, right down to the smallest links of chain between bigger plates. He’d removed his helmet in the cave, but not anything else. It didn’t seem to matter how long he’d be sitting in a metal suit. There was something almost poetic about the sneer on his face when he finally saw them—like he was picturing exactly what punishment was appropriate for whatever creatures dared interrupt him.  But before he could even say anything, Geist had changed back into a bat. The transformation was so abrupt that the flash briefly overwhelmed Golden Shine’s little campfire. When the light settled back down, Geist advanced, nodding politely. “Good to see you again, Shine. Your requested aid from the capital has arrived at last. We’re ready to receive your praise now.” Golden Shine’s expression broke, and he extended a hoof, catching Geist in a friendly embrace and pulling him close. “Geist, you old devil. The Council of Lords hasn’t had you drawn and quartered yet?” “Have to catch me first,” he answered, breaking away after a few seconds and pulling Star by her foreleg. “This is my latest trainee. Fresh from the court, ready to struggle and fail to understand the realities of living outside the princess’s protection. Perfect for a mission like this.” “If she can endure it.” Golden Shine turned his attention to her, all friendliness replaced with suspicion. He looked her up and down, as though he were measuring her for a coffin. “Not many ponies can remain faithful to Harmony’s precepts when taken out of Concord’s sheltering wings. Are you strong enough to keep your promises?” “Nothing matters more to me than Harmony,” she said. “I could recite the precepts of each Exemplar if you doubt my faithfulness.” Golden Shine laughed, patting her on the shoulder. “I have no doubt you could. But so too can the vilest sinners. Pretending to virtue is easy—living a life of virtue is something else.” “Don’t judge her too harshly for that, old friend,” Geist said. “Tracking down your little rebellion takes more than simple investigators. That will only perpetuate the disappointing results obtained by others so far. A few rebellious ponies executed, a little disharmony averted… but the leaders remained cloaked in secrecy. We need to penetrate the organization, and root it out for good.” Shine lifted his helmet into his magic, nodding. “And you have some plan to do that, something I haven’t already tried?” “Quite sure you’ve never done this,” Geist said. There was another flash of magic, and Ginny was back. She slid up beside Star, embracing her with exaggerated affection. “We’re going to live a life of disharmony. Forbidden love, disowned by our parents… that’s why I risked this meeting with you in the first place.” Golden Shine stiffened visibly at the gesture, eyes narrowing. “Well you’ve… certainly found something I haven’t tried.” “Precisely.” Ginny broke away, circling around the little cave. “I wasn’t sure it would be you, but I needed to make sure you knew we’d be coming. I want you to throw the book at us. Every excuse to punish us, every excuse to put us in prison. Make our punishments public and gratuitous. Just… don’t damage the unicorn. If she survives this, she’s going back to the Twilight court.” Which translated roughly to: don’t make her hate you too badly, or you’ll be making a powerful enemy one day. Star could appreciate the caution, even if everything Ginny was saying was infuriating. “Wait, hold on. Why would we want to get punished? He knows none of this is real. We’re not skirting the boundaries of Harmony’s laws. It’s just an act.” But Golden Shine seemed to understand what she couldn’t. “Because ponies will think you’re mistreated. They’ll think you’re an easy target. You won’t have to justify your treason of Harmony’s ideals. So many creatures abandon truth when they face adversity. So many fail to take correction constructively. It’s a solid plan.” He settled the helmet firmly into place, securing the clasps on either side. “This meeting was unnecessary, Geist. All know that griffons and ponies are forbidden to interbreed. I would’ve acted regardless.” Ginny wrapped one arm around his armored shoulder, apparently not intimidated by his massive size. “Would that all of Harmony’s protectors were as loyal and true as you, Shine. I was expecting your predecessor. Commissar Taproot wasn’t as… He had his own priorities about enforcement.” Even through the armor, Star could see Golden Shine tense. All his good humor vanished, and his voice was grave. “Commissar Taproot faced the just recompense of his disloyalty. It was the souls of all in Hollow Shades who suffered the pain of his failure, even more than himself. Shame he only had the one life to give.” He turned away, back towards the cave entrance. His horn glowed, and the tiny campfire abruptly went out. “I will see the two of you tomorrow. Once you’re settled, do something public. I’ll make sure your… reward… is seen by all in the city.” He didn’t wait for a reply, vanishing out into the darkness of the night, and leaving the two of them alone. “And now the race is practically decided,” Ginny said, as soon as he was completely gone. “Good thing that Taproot was replaced, he would’ve made this a nightmare. But Golden Shine… he’s about as strict as Equestria has ever seen. Even if I could blackmail Taproot into doing what we wanted, his punishment would seem out of character.” “I didn’t come out here to be punished for something I’m not,” Star insisted. “Can’t we just go looking for the rebellion ourselves? Say that we… were tortured in Concord or something? What’s the point of following Harmony’s rules if we’re going to be punished anyway?” Ginny slid up beside her, clicking her tongue in her beak with a tone that was half mocking and half seductive. “Star, I’m appalled you would say something like that. Somepony who follows in Harmony’s hoofsteps so closely should know that we never obey out of fear of punishment. That’s almost the lowest motivation a pony can have, right above the animals themselves. Don’t you obey out of love of Harmony’s teachings? Isn’t that the proper reason?” Star shoved her away, with all the strength she could muster. This time it was actually enough for her to stumble. “I’m not going to take a lecture from you, Geist. I love Equestria and its ponies, that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” Jamie woke with the sun. It wasn’t exactly an old habit—growing up on an orbital platform meant that the sun was really whatever lighting system her particular station used. But the shelter hadn’t even done that, and light conservation didn’t exactly make her feel energized and eager to start her day. But this time she had a real skylight, and actual warmth shining down into her oversized bed. She woke, cleaned up with some water stored in the tank, and ate some of her travel rations alone at her desk. Epsilon had a new list of demands waiting in her messages, but she ignored that for now. It wasn’t as though the program could expect her to act like some drone, dropping everything that mattered to her to seek out its whims. She was only still helping because of loyalty to the other people frozen in Shelter 198.64. Possibly the last humans left on the whole planet. They couldn’t be the last survivors, she didn’t want to believe that. The empire had been vast and powerful. The civil war couldn’t get everyone, right? There are probably new colonies out there that grew into better capitals than Homeworld with all these years. Hopefully she wouldn’t need that reassurance to justify abandoning anything Epsilon wanted to force her into. It was probably around noon that someone finally knocked on the door, and Shy poked her head in. “Jamie? Are you up?” Jamie was up, watching a movie on her tablet computer. She flipped it down hastily, and the film paused. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay in here, or…” Shy rolled her eyes. “That wouldn’t be very friendly. Just so long as you don’t wander around to any of the unsafe parts of the house, you can go anywhere.” She stopped beside the desk, eyes narrowing. “That’s… Darktech, isn’t it?” Jamie groaned, then lifted up the tablet in both hooves. She moved slowly, concentrating carefully as she did so. Her stupid body didn’t exactly want to cooperate with her while she worked. As soon as it was up, the movie started playing again—a pretty standard military drama piece. But Shy didn’t seem to think so. Her mouth hung open, and she hurried over to the edge of the desk, staring in wonder. A pilot all wrapped up in acceleration gear seemed to shake in their seat as they piloted their starship in a difficult gravitational-slingshot maneuver around a moon. “It’s dramatized to hell,” Jamie said, speaking over the dramatic music and heavy breathing. “I guess some real people might’ve had to do a slingshot like that manually once or twice, like ever… but a computer being out for long enough to make it necessary seems pretty silly to me. Don’t watch this and think it’s realistic.” Shy was still staring. Had she broken her somehow? Jamie reached out and tapped the screen, pausing it again. This time on a close-up of the rest of the crew, all strapped down into acceleration couches and looking stoic. “I was just killing a little time. You don’t have to watch it.” Finally Shy recovered enough to speak. Her wings opened and closed a few times as she squinted at the screen. “What… kind of creatures are those?” “Humans. Mostly unmodified, because you know how unrealistic beauty standards can be. How many people without implants have you even met—” She flushed, ears flattening to her head. “You know what, I just realized that’s a stupid thing to say. So yeah, those are humans. But this is fiction. The Imperial Navy hasn’t even existed for…” She got up, shaking her head. “If the navy was still around, I wouldn’t be here begging for a place to build our city.” Shy stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then turned away. “And they’re not… horribly evil creatures that exterminate everything in their path? They’re not… incapable of love or friendship or compassion? They aren’t determined to send every equinoid to Tartarus for the crime of happiness?” Jamie probably shouldn’t have—but she couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing, filling the underground room with loud, happy noises. It took her a few seconds to finally calm down. “That’s even crazier than what you said yesterday, Shy. You can’t describe a whole species just one way. There were evil humans, sure…” She trailed off, banishing unbidden memories of that ancient war. They’re gone. I got to the shelter. Nothing to worry about. “But that’s not most of us. I bet you wouldn’t say ponies are like any of those things… but you probably know one or two who are.” She didn’t have to wait for Shy to argue. She could see the pain on her face, the recognition. Probably those were names coming to mind right there. “But that means it’s all for nothing!” she finally exclaimed, slumping onto her haunches. “Everything the princess did. All the ponies who died, the armies, the invasions—she wasted her time. The Devourers were never coming.” Jamie reached out, patting her gently on the shoulder. “If you want to take some advice from a civilization that didn’t last—anyone saying that the end is near, that there’s some horrible enemy that can’t be reasoned with, that something is gonna happen to end the world unless you give them all the power—it never works out.” She sat back herself, watching Shy in silence for a few more moments. “But I think you already know that. You didn’t exactly seem like you were best friends with that Commissar yesterday. I’m guessing… the princess sent him?” Shy stopped crying abruptly, wiping her face with the back of a leg. “S-sorry. I don’t… emotional maturity doesn’t persist between…” She cleared her throat. “I’m feeling better now. Do you think you could show me more of that sometime? I’d like to see what those humans were like when they aren’t in big machines, doing… whatever they’re doing. Like, what were they like at home? Did they have animal friends? Did they love their families?” Jamie almost started answering all those obvious questions all at once—but then she realized how one-sided that exchange would be, and she stopped abruptly. “Hold on, Shy. I’ll tell you all that, but I want to know some things too. Like… how I’m supposed to get my people somewhere to live. What happens if we just start building our own city out in the wilderness? Why does everyone cram into this place when so much of it seems unfriendly?” Shy was silent then, contemplative. “You want somewhere to live for… creatures like that?” She gestured at the tablet with her wing. “Other humans?” At her nod, she continued. “Creatures who use Darktech like yours? Like that memory machine?” She nodded again. “Well… that sounds impossible.” She rose abruptly, turning away. “Princess Twilight Sparkle is looking for creatures like you. She forces every creature to be part of her vision of a perfect Equestria. There’s no way to resist her, or change her mind. If you built that, Concord would fly here, dismantle everything, and kill every creature living there.” “Oh.” Jamie whimpered, rising to follow her. “And you… won’t do any of those things? You won’t… tell her I’m here, will you?” “Talk to her?” Shy laughed, her own kind of bitterness in her voice. “No, I won’t. I might not have any magic to tell when ponies are lying to me, but I’ve seen you. You mean it. But there’s nowhere for you to go. Your creatures should… keep hiding. There’s nowhere safe for them to live.” Jamie didn’t argue with her. Shy obviously didn’t want to continue the conversation, least of which because she seemed to be moving away as fast as she could. It wasn’t an argument she could win. “Maybe you could, uh…” She hesitated. “Do you think there might be somewhere in town that would… hire me?” It sounded so stupid that she almost stopped and walked away. Obviously her certs were worthless now. The idea of building a life here was selfish. But if my mission is impossible, I’m not going back to get frozen again. Or… just to get locked in a room and waste away by myself because I’m not worth the resources to freeze. I’m not hurting the chances for anyone in the shelter by not going back. “Why would you want that?” Shy asked, spinning around to stare. “Aren’t the ones you come from… powerful? They have cities on the moon! They have magic I’ve never even imagined before! Wouldn’t you rather live with them?” She shook her head emphatically. “My people are… sleeping, Shy. All of them. If I go back, I’ll be alone in the dark… for the rest of my life.” Her ears flattened, and now she was the one on the edge of tears. She fought it as best she could, feeling incredibly childish. “I’d rather live somewhere in the city. Even if I have to do some crappy job that nobody wants. Even if I have to learn some stupid cult religion and go to mass twice a day. I’d hide my computer and pretend to be just like everybody else, if it meant I had somewhere to live.” Shy stopped just in front of her, meeting her tearful eyes. “Hollow Shades isn’t the best city to live in, Jamie. But… you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you need to. And I’ve got friends. You’re an earth pony, so… do you think you’d be willing to work on a garden?” “Sure!” She wrapped her arms around Shy’s shoulders in a tearful, pathetic hug. “That sounds perfect. I’m basically dirt already, so… it’ll be a great fit.”