//------------------------------// // Chapter 19: A Nice Day // Story: #277 // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// For a moment, there was nothing but comfortable gloom. Then there was light. The sun rose, and Celestia cursed its existence. How, even as the hissing corrosion of her mind had come to a silent roar and as her consciousness was losing its last tethers to reality, it’s glaring light still managed to cut deep into whatever was left of her. To mock her for not having been born as what the computers told her she was. She was lying on the ground. She had for the most part lost the ability to move. Not in the sense of paralysis, but rather in the sense that she had lost the ability to comprehend motion. Instead, unless she concentrated with all her might, she would simply skip to the position she chose in a kind of jerky, silent, instantaneous teleportation. Trixie looked around nervously. “I’m not even supposed to have brought you out here,” she said. Celestia closed her eyes and took a synthetic breath. The air still smelled crisp and clean, and she felt it blowing against her face. At least that part still worked. “What, are you afraid I’m going to escape? We’re not really outside. I’m just outside of the castle.” “We don’t actually know what you’re capable of. I mean, to be honest, even the All-Knowing and Hyper-intelligent Trixie can’t actually figure out what is going on inside you. We don’t even know what you are at this point.” “Dying.” “Well, apart from that.” Trixie kicked a large clod of dirt. “For all I know, you’re going to start bending spoons or something and breaking the simulation like a nub.” Celestia looked at her, rolled her eyes and lifted one of the spoons from a nearby tea-tray, bending it easily with her magic. “Like that?” “No, not like that! It’s fine when you bend a spoon when the simulation lets you, it’s bad when you start bending spoons in the simulation that aren’t supposed to bend.” “Or when you start bending spoons in the real world.” Trixie squeaked loudly as Yelizaveta silently appeared next to her. “Where—where did you come from?!” “I thought we had agreed we were keeping her indoors. To reduce over-stimulation.” “Well, yes, but...she’s so cute and soft and...” Trixie sighed. “I’m getting a beating, aren’t I?” Yelizaveta raised an eyebrow. “Since when have I ever beat you?” “Well, it wouldn’t hurt you to offer now and then, would it?” Trixie turned to Celestia. “She’s of course joking. She took all the spoons out of the galley.” “Why?” “Because Trixie ate them.” Celestia felt her mind slowly distorting. At this point, she was not sure if she was dreaming. “Why would you...never mind.” “Which reminds me! I have something for you!” Trixie approached the tea-table and removed the silver lid from a plate. She levitated it back over to where Celestia was lying and trying to stay solid. “Ta-da!” Celestia looked at the plate. It contained a slice of cake. “Trixie...I do appreciate the thought, but simulated cake tastes like...simulation.” “That’s because it’s not cake! It’s code! I made it!” “You...made it?” Trixie nodded far too quickly. “The reason the other stuff tastes bad is because Virginia made that part of the simulation. Ponies don’t have a sense of taste. Robots and all. But I do!” “Since when have you ever eaten cake?” demanded Yelizaveta. “When I was with the other Trixies! We found a camp sight once, and the campers secured their bag up in a tree so normal Trixie’s couldn’t reach it, but I had hands so I got the cake out and ate some! And I only got SLIGHTLY shot!” “So this is...what, exactly?” “My memory. Of cake.” Celestia looked at it, then smiled. She unbent her spoon and took a taste. It tasted like absolutely nothing. She froze, and then smiled. “Thank you, Trixie. It...you don’t know how much this means to me.” Trixie smiled, overjoyed. Unlike Virginia or Yelizaveta, she was most likely not afflicted by the command code. Instead, she just seemed eager to please. Celestia mentally envisioned her as something akin to a semi-sentient, talking puppy. “Why would Trixies even go after cake? Ponies don’t generally need to eat,” mused Yelizaveta. Then she paused. “Wait. Trixies. Never mind, I have answered my own question.” “What do you eat normally?” asked Celestia, immediately regretting it because she probably already knew. Trixie smiled, revealing her set of extremely sharp metal teeth. “Whatever I catch.” “Their hunting instinct is vastly accelerated,” explained Yelizaveta. “It was perceived as a means to make them more effective in combat. And to keep them fed with less rations.” “You mean by hunting poor adorable small animals?” Yelizaveta stared coldly at Celestia. “You have vastly misunderstood the implication of my statement.” Celestia shivered. “Oh.” She turned back to Trixie. “I...really would like to know what you actually look like.” Trixie looked to Yelizaveta, and Yelizaveta shook her head. “You’re too unstable. We can’t risk it.” “Hold on,” said Trixie. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her form shifted slightly—but only slightly. When she opened her eyes, they were terrifyingly pale. The irises were very nearly white, with only the palest hint of pink around a pair of large black pupils. Her mane, likewise, had also changed, growing longer and less automatically perfect as per normal. Several piercings appeared in her ears; they looked like livestock tags. Most notably, though, was the script that appeared on one of her legs. Celestia gestured toward it, trying not to move. “What is that?” Trixie looked down at the system of text, almost confused as to why Celestia had even bothered to ask. “My numbers,” she said. “Every human has numbers. How else would we know who we are?” This did confuse Celestia—but also made her sad in a way she did not fully understand. Celestia was standing. She had not stood; her body had simply reconfigured itself to a new position. “Whoa, careful!” said Trixie. “I know that Trixie is super, incredibly, unfathomably hot, and you want to snuggle her and repeatedly boop her and pat her on the head and tell her she’s a good girl and not an ugly transhuman monster, but you really need to stay as still as possible and just enjoy the weather until, you know, death.” “I’m not dead yet.” “The operant word is ‘yet’,” muttered Yelizaveta. Celestia ignored her, warping the simulation around the tip of her horn and summoning a ball. “BALL!” cried Trixie, again reinforcing Celestia’s vision of her as a rather dog-like creature. "Ball, ball, BALL!" “This is absurd,” sighed Yelizaveta. “Do you want me to sit in bed like an invalid? I may be old, but I’m not elderly. At least let me have this, won’t you?” Yelizaveta stared at her, and then sighed. “Fine.” “What is ball for?” asked Trixie. "WHAT IS BALL FOR?!" “Have you ever played with one before?” “We told legends of our herd once having a ball, long ago—but it got popped. Because of the horns. In, like, two minutes. But what a glorious two minutes it must have been...” Celestia lobbed the ball with unexpected force at Trixie. It struck her square in the face with a resounding thwap, then dropped to the ground. Trixie stared, dumbstruck and horrified, as tears slowly dripped from her eyes. “Oh my me! Trixie, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean—” “Humans don’t feel pain,” muttered Yelizaveta. "It's called bilateral cingulotomy. It's transorbital." “I do feel pain,” squeaked Trixie. “It’s just the emotional kind...” “Have I bruised you feelings?” “Ha.” Trixie wiped her face. “No. Trixie was lying. Trixie doesn't have feelings. The injectors suppress that.” “I see.” Celestia lifted the ball, then smiled at Trixie. She moved her eyes, gesturing toward Yelizaveta, and then winked as Trixie smiled as well, apparently understanding. Then, with undue and profound force, Celestia accelerated the ball directly into Yelizaveta’s flank. Yelizaveta was nearly upturned by the force of the impact, but remains otherwise impassive despite the resounding thwang of the ball rebounding off her rear. Upon hearing this distinct sound, Trixie collapsed into a puddle of laughter. She slowly turned to face Celestia. “I, as a pony, do in fact feel pain. That smarted. Your betrayal displeases me, Celestia. Although I suppose I deserve it.” “For the sake of my own butt, lighten up! Look how much fun Trixie is having!” “Right in the BUTT!” cried Trixie. “I haven’t heard your butt make that sound since I heard Virginia slapping it!” Yelizaveta reddened. “I—excuse me—you—how did you hear that?” “Trixie has ears and doesn’t sleep. Please, like I haven’t seen you shoving your plugs in her ports on a nightly basis—” “Trixie, that’s very personal information!” “Well, then, why not throw the ball back and play?” Yelizaveta looked at the ball, dumbfounded, then picked it up and tossed it to Trixie. This time Trixie caught it, and passed it to Celestia. Celestia then teleported halfway across the courtyard. “Hey! That’s not fair—ACK! BALL!” Trixie caught the ball again, then lobbed it at Yelizaveta’s rump. Yelizaveta caught it and returned fire, only for Trixie to pass it back to Celestia, who caught it at range. This continued, accelerating, and in minutes Trixie was laughing like a child—and even Yelizaveta was smiling. Celestia thought it was the first thing she had felt in a long time—or perhaps ever—that was actually real. As she did her best to run and did her best to stay intact and present, she looked up to the castle. Virginia was standing on a balcony with Luna. Both were looking down and, though at a distance, Celestia liked to imagine that they were smiling too. That, in this brief moment, maybe their efforts had succeeded. Then there was feeling. Celestia, who had for a moment been laughing and doing her best to play with the others, stopped, her expression falling. She was not sure what it was, although for a moment thought that perhaps the end had finally reached her. She supposed this was not a bad way to go. Except it was not a failure of the mind, but a perception of something beyond it. Of something moving just out of sight. From the distance, hundreds of crows suddenly flew from the Everfree, cawing and screaming and swarming back to their creator high in the castle. Trixie saw them and stopped, ignoring the ball pegged into the side of her head by Yelizaveta—who also stopped, staring at the birds. Trixie’s smile grew, but only in her mouth. Her eyes looked as terrified as Yelizaveta’s. “What is it?” asked Celestia. “It’s happening,” said Yelizaveta. “May God save us all, it’s finally happening.” From the distance, sirens began to sound. Distant, at first, but slowly winding up to maximum volume. The atmosphere changed, the sun vanishing and the world suddenly cast in unnatural red. “Virginia!” “I’m here!” Virginia appeared beside Yelizaveta. Celestia saw the same fear on her face—but something else as well. A distinct form of confidence that Yelizaveta lacked. “What is going on?” “An incursion. Security was just breached.” “Another technomancer?” Virginia forced herself to smile. “No. This one’s in the real world, on my ship. The military’s here.” “What are they going to do?” “Execute us. And steal my work. And I won’t let that happen.” “We have a plan for this,” said Yelizaveta. More firmly—but with so much more hidden fear. Celestia shivered, not sure if that fear was an artifact or if it was something produced by Yelizaveta’s centuries of experience over Virginia. She hoped the former, but knew it was most likely the latter. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this. We need to move, though. NOW.”