//------------------------------//
// Ch. 18. Unexpected Incidents 
// Story: If Wishes Were Ponies, Book II 
// by tkepner 
//------------------------------//

“Before we proceed further,” Debby said, “You previously asked if there were other lings interested in going through the portal. There are. However, before any of them will come forward, they will have to be reassured that we can survive on the other side of the portal.” She looked out the window for a moment, then back at him. “After all, if there is no food for us on the other side, why bother trying? We might as well just starve, here, as there. Here, at least, some of us might survive, perhaps, even, Queen-Mother might let us re-join the hive.” She stared at him. “We two will go first and ascertain if this is worth doing. Only after that will we return and tell the others of our findings.”

Castor smiled wryly. “We thought you might say that.” He paused, thinking. “How long will it take you to determine this?”

“Depending upon where you take us, anywhere from a few hours to a week. You mentioned the possibilities of weddings, churches, and maternity hospitals, so how quickly we could arrive at such places will determine the time it takes.”

He nodded again. “Well, I’m ready when you are, so shall we go?”

They stood and followed him out the door. Just outside was a contingent of eight Special Air Services troopers. 

“These gentlemen,” Castor explained as the two changelings slowed at seeing them. “Are going to be our escorts, so that we aren’t delayed on our way to the portal.” He continued walking. The changelings exchanged glances but followed him. 

Having four men towering over them on each side was disquieting to the changelings, Castor saw, but his matter-of-fact presentation didn’t allow them more time to react.

The changelings were used to seeing men and women, this was Canterlot’s U.K. Embassy, after all, and the staff were humans, not ponies. The two had been guests in the Embassy for the nine days since they had arrived. What had startled them, he knew, were the obvious military garb and weapons these eight humans wore. They were carrying the weapons casually, but in a manner that said they were ready to react at a moment’s notice. Plus, unlike the pony guards, these guards were constantly scanning the area around them, as if they expected an attack, even in the Embassy.

It didn’t escape the changelings notice that four of the guards were keeping a specific watch on them.

Castor led them to another room with a lit fireplace. “This is a floo,” he said. “It is a quick method of travel between any two locations. To operate it is simple. Watch.” The two lead guards stepped up to the fireplace and linked their arms together on one side. The first one pressed down on a floor-mounted pedal. A second later, the two changelings were startled to see the fire in the fireplace turn green! The two troopers then stepped into the fire and one of them said, “Ponyville Embassy Security Floo.” They disappeared.

Debby nodded. “We had heard about the floo-network, but never had the opportunity to see it used.” She sighed. Instant, untraceable transportation of troops. The lings were soo behind.

Minutes later, the group was exiting Ponyville Embassy to find twelve Equestrian Guards waiting for them. The Guards made no effort to pretend they weren’t there to watch the changelings. The two groups studied each other for a moment, then both headed for the Portal Station down the street. Faster than the changelings had expected, Castor was showing them how to put on the transit robes and they were stepping through the portal itself, escorted by the S.A.S. members.

They were met with four more soldiers, all female, when they exited the portal.

Castor wasn’t surprised to notice that the changelings quickly adapted to being only on two feet instead of four hooves. Nor were they unfamiliar with having hands. With their abilities, they would be able to show exactly what those other species on Equus looked like and how they behaved. A veritable gold-mine of information. They had to know far more than the ponies did, who had only a cursory interest in the others who shared their planet. Much of their information seemed to fall into the category of travelogues, or, “My mother told me . . ..” Not to mention being decades or centuries old.

For a modern nation, it was intolerable to be that ignorant of ones neighbours.

Debby appeared to be about thirty and Abby, based on the grey in her hair, about fifty. They were dark-skinned, tall, and not nearly as buxom as the Equestrian ponies when they crossed the portal. Also, unlike the Equestrians, both had close-cropped hair.

“These ladies,” Castor said, pointing to the new soldiers, “will assist you in dressing in our clothes.” He indicated the changelings should go into the room with door that had a stylized-image of a woman in a dress, “Female” written in several languages.

Getting dressed took some time, as Castor had expected from the first-time immigrants. Most of the time was spent in explaining what proper street-wear clothing was, and showing them the different fashions available. However, what they actually wore were simple, knee-length dresses.

Once they were outside the Equestrian Embassy, they were brought to a non-descript bus. It was the lings’ first sight of a pony-less carriage that wasn’t a train and they stared at it a long time before boarding. Once inside, they were clearly taken aback at the opulence on display — cushioned seats with a carpeted aisle, warm air circulating, and with curtain-covered windows! Not even the trains in Equestria could match this carriage. 

They were directed to sit in the middle of the bus, with the soldiers taking seats at the front and back. The changelings stared out the windows through the gaps in the curtains as they left the Embassy grounds, taking in what they could of this new world. It was very much unlike what they were used to seeing. The closely built houses, the tall buildings, the paved roads left them quiet. The fact that the vehicle didn’t jolt and sway as it moved was another point towards the comforts these humans expected. Even the road was a work of art.

Soon enough, however, they pulled into a nearby layby.


^·_·^


Unusually, Scootaloo and the rest of the herd did not wake him that morning by traipsing into his dorm out of this trunk. Surprised at his uninterrupted routine, he rushed through it wondering what was wrong. He reached the common room just in time to meet Scootaloo and the other fillies as they leisurely came down from their room. 

With them was Chirpy Hooves, a filly with light-gold and pale-yellow hair, and greyish purple eyes. Harry knew she was a pegasus filly at home, and one of the three Firsties without a cutie mark.

“Chirpy wants us to help her find her cutie mark,” said Sweetie Belle as they walked over to Harry.

“We spent several hours last night talking to her,” said Apple Bloom. They had spent most of the late evening going over her Equestrian likes and dislikes, she explained. “She likes reading in general, and found the magic they were learning fascinating. But nothing else really stood out from everything she had done back home.” She sighed.

“We’ll talk some more over breakfast,” finished Sweetie Belle.

On the way to the Great Hall, Hermione asked, “Well, Chirpy, is there anything you’ve seen or done at Hogwarts that you find interesting?”

“Hmm,” Chirpy said, clearly considering it. “Well, magic, of course, that’s really interesting, but I don’t think I’d get a cutie mark in it. Quidditch is kinda cool, but I’m not a fanatic about it.” She was quiet for a few steps. “I do find the wizarding world itself fascinating, though. The history Professor Lupin is teaching us is incredible — so violent!” She shuddered. 

“Then one of my dorm-mates told me that Padma Patil is from India, so I started asking her questions.” She skipped ahead a step and turned to face them, walking backwards. “Did you know they have an entire pantheon of Gods?” She looked awed at the thought of more than three. “Some of them sound almost as powerful as Princess Celestia!” She frowned, “But the Princess insists she isn’t a god.” She shook her head. “Anyway, it is just soo fascinating that I don’t know what to say. And then she told me about Sue Li being Chinese, and introduced me to her. China is just as interesting, with just as many Gods. It would be soo interesting to search for them!”

Harry could see she was quite excited at the prospect. Especially as she continued on that topic all the way through the meal and back to the common room with them. She named the Hindu and Chinese pantheons and gave their basic descriptions and backstories. 

She was a lot like his mum, he thought, only focused on the topic of the Hindu and Chinese old gods, and how they were so different from each other, and alike at the same time. So very different from what they had known back home in Equestria where there were only Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, and practically everyone knew everything about them. Princess Celestia’s reaction to the Great Toothpaste War was taught to every colt and filly in their first year at school as a cautionary tale. That there were cultures with dozens, or hundreds, of Gods was breath-taking to the ponies. Religion, praying for guidance, was a foreign concept to them.

Harry had a good idea of what her cutie mark was going to be, although the three Cutie Mark Crusaders hadn’t sorted it out, yet. 

While the fillies were preoccupied with that, he excused himself and went looking for Bon Bon. After he explained what he wanted, she promised he would have it late that afternoon.


^·_·^


When the bus stopped in the layby, Castor turned to the two changelings. “This is Second Lieutenant Harrison, she’s a wand user.” He pointed to a woman who had been waiting for them on the bus with the driver. “We refer to all magic on this side of the portal as Special Technology.” He stared at the two changelings. “Got that? Never say the word magic when you see it. It is always to be referred to as Special Technology. There are exceptions, however, such as telekinesis. I’ll explain the whys and wherefores later.”

As he was saying this, the bus driver was shutting down the electronics in the bus, and disengaging the battery.

The two nodded their understanding.

“Lieutenant Harrison will conduct the casting of the oath,” he continued, and handed them two sheets of paper. “The words you need to say are in bold-red, I will be speaking the lines in green. Harrison will be the initiator of the Special Technology. Are we clear?”

They nodded again and looked at the papers.

“First,” Harrison said, “All three of you clasp your right hands together.” After they did so, she rested her wand tip on their hands and nodded to Castor.

“I, Captain Castor James Searle, with the Queen’s permission, am acting as surrogate for Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, Queen by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, as well as the people who live under her reign.” Everyone watched as a bright red rope of light wrapped around his hand. A thin, red band shot off out of the bus.

As the two changelings identified themselves, separate ropes of light, in different colours, wrapped their hands.

Then they stated their obligations towards each other, each statement creating a separate white roped light. At the very end, they concluded in chorus, “As we have sworn, so shall it be.” The separate ropes all merged, and a wave of white seemed to pulse outward from them.

After blinking away the spots in their vision, “Well, hopefully, that will do the job,” Castor said. “Take a seat and I’ll explain our itinerary for the next two days.” He smiled. “And answer your questions.”

He looked at the driver and nodded. “We’re ready. Head for our destination.”

As they were being driven, Castor explained that their first stop would be at a military hospital, the maternity ward. The future use of a maternity ward as a “food” source would be based on their reports. They would be queried on if they could determine if there were any ill-effects on the infants, the mothers, or the hospital staff while collecting their emotional food. The government also needed a base-line estimate on how long it took to gather a suitable quantity of food for the changelings.

Any indications that the babies, their parents, or the staff were negatively affected by the changelings “collecting” would strike that particular option off the list of acceptable places.

He would decide, from their reports, if they would be investigating any other hospitals to see if their wards might significantly differ in yields.

The second lieutenant took advantage of that time to transfigure their dresses into proper nurses’ uniforms, with name tags that labelled them as Special Technology trainees. 

When they arrived at the hospital, it was only Castor, Harrison, a second female Special Technology Second Lieutenant, and the two changelings that debarked. The three humans were attired as hospital workers to match the changelings. The bus left as soon as they entered the hospital’s front doors, to return the soldiers to base. Castor had a much smaller vehicle he would call to pick them up when they finished here. There was no need for the soldiers now that the changelings had given their oath.

If it wasn’t going to work, it would be better to find out now than when they had possibly dozens of the creatures running around.

After checking in at the receiving desk, they headed straight for the maternity ward. Castor gave the two changelings a running description of where they were in the hospital, explaining the different sections as they passed them. It was interesting to see how comfortable they were in their new bodies, and walking on two legs. 

He also noticed that sometimes they would slow down as they walked by certain rooms, or give puzzled looks at some of the people, both patients and staff, as they passed them.

Soon enough, they were in the maternity ward. Castor stopped at the first occupied room, a single room. The new mother was sitting in her bed, cradling her new-born. She looked up, smiling as they entered.

“Good day,” Castor said cheerfully, a warm feeling in his heart at seeing the infant and mother. “How are you feeling this fine morning?” 

“Tired, still,” she said happily.

He stopped at the bottom of her bed and picked up the clipboard with her information. “I see you gave birth to this wonderful little girl last night at ten-fifty-seven.” He looked up at her, watching as the two changelings moved to either side of the bed. They were staring at her rather intently.

To keep her distracted, he said, “Do you have any suggestions for us on how we can improve our department? Make things more comfortable beforehand, perhaps?”

He continued his banter until Debby gave the agreed-upon signal and they left. He stopped outside the next room and gave the two a questioning look. They just nodded, and Abby whispered, “We were able to collect from her. The baby was a blank, we felt nothing from her, and took nothing.”

He nodded and they moved on.

Given the number of hospitals in the city, the current population, and the average number of babies born in a day, there were only ten occupied rooms in this hospital. However, this hospital wasn’t the largest in the city, either.

“This has possibilities,” Debby said after they climbed into the Land Rover Castor had called. “Not nearly as much the ponies, but one of us could collect enough in one day to last for two days.”

“We did not have to directly draw, so there shouldn’t be any repercussions for either the parent or the foal . . . child,” added Abby.

“To give you a comparison,” continued Debby, “A similar number of new-mother ponies would give a collector about a month’s worth in a day.”

They visited three civilian hospitals before calling it finished and heading for a secure location in a nearby military base. Castor continued his briefing on what to expect in the human world, and what they might be asked to do.


^·_·^


After classes that afternoon, Harry made a quick run to Bon Bon and Lyra’s room. After profusely thanking her, he quickly returned to the common room where the three fillies were still brainstorming on what Chirpy’s cutie mark could be.

Both Hermione and Ginny had retreated to the library to work on assignments. Ron was beating the trousers off Dean in a game of chess — even with a handicap of no rooks.

“Hay, Chirpy,” he said interrupting their confab in one corner. “I think you might be interested in these.” He pulled three books out of his saddlebag — he was wearing it as a belt pouch. The first was Chinese Mythology, by Anthony Christie, An Introduction to Oriental Mythology by NJ Secaucus was the second, and Hindu Mythology: Vedic And Puranic by William Joseph Wilkins finished the stack.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she hurriedly grabbed the Hindu book. She flipped through it excitedly, stopping to read a section occasionally. Then she grabbed the next book and flipped through it, getting more and more excited with each snippet she read. She was practically vibrating in her chair. After she had given the second Chinese book a quick perusal, she jumped up and hugged him, transforming into her pegasus form, wings pumping excitedly as she flew in a circle around him, spinning him with her.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she sang gleefully.

A second later, a brilliant bright light filled the room. When it faded, leaving everyone blinking — except Chirpy, she didn’t seem to have noticed anything had happened — there were three books emblazoned on both her flanks, with the faint images of alicorns and human gods on them. She had discovered her cutie mark!

Before they had stopped blinking, Harry heard the swelling chords of a heartsong. The next few minutes were devoted to Chirpy declaring to all and sundry that she had discovered her life’s pleasure to be learning about the gods and goddess of other cultures. The rest of the dorm, those that weren’t elsewhere in the castle, formed a massive choral backup. Whomever wasn’t in the common room came down from their rooms, singing harmony and counterpoint, and interjecting their comments about life and gods as appropriate.

Those witches and wizards who were in the Gryffindor Tower that day gained a whole new understanding of just what a cutie mark meant to ponies. Not to mention the power of a heartsong to induce participation and bring joy to everypony.

That week, Harry noticed that for some reason Malfoy and his coltfriends seemed more interested in him. He caught Goyle trying to be subtle at watching him whenever they were in Potions or anywhere else in sight of each other. Hermione told him she had seen Crabbe glaring darkly at him more than once.


^-~-^


The day after visiting the hospitals, Castor took the two lings to a wedding in the morning, and two more in the afternoon. The weddings covered the range from small, with only a dozen or so participants, to large, with nearly a hundred.

The weddings were much more fruitful than the maternity wards, the lings explained. They had access to dozens of happy and emoting people at one time instead of a single, or set, of parents. Positioning close to the parents and the wedding party simplified and increased collection. One wedding gave them enough for a week, each. If a collector could be present at three large weddings in a day, she would reap enough emotional food for a month. Or thirty changelings for a day.

Satisfied with their findings, that evening, they mapped out their search in Equestria for their abandoned sisters. Tomorrow, they planned to return to the Ponyville Embassy, and Equestria, to start spreading the word. They would have to be very careful, they didn’t want any of the lings their Queen-mother had gathered to hear about this. She would interfere, the two lings were certain.


^-_-^


Major Tom, his superiors, and most of the space-oriented community, were thrilled when the fifth portkey arrived, right on schedule. Over seventy percent of the Asteroid Ring, and all of Mars’ orbit was available to them, all the time, once they got there. With the help of the new telescope on the back side of the moon, the Yanks were helping them map out which asteroids might be worth mining. They had already fielded some questions from mining consortiums.

The Buran was being prepped for its interplanetary voyage. First, Mars, then from there, the asteroids.

Unfortunately, they had discovered, portkeying living creatures farther than twenty-thousand kilometres was fatal. Portkeying a living creature that had been transformed into a statue and then reversing the transformation on arrival? Not dangerous at all. Unpleasant and disorienting, but not dangerous.

It was easy to disguise the long-range portkey as a Special Technology device. They simply made it a standard part of their spacesuit design that used “suspended animation” to prevent harm while using the “Translocator.”

They were prepping another Bristol Bloodhound with the intent for a launch to Alpha Centauri. The plan was to get it as close to lightspeed as possible. It would have twenty timed-portkeys at different distances. The first four would be at the gas giants, the fifth would be at the “rim” of the solar system, the outside edge of the Kuiper Belt at fifty times the distance the Earth is from the Sun. The sixth at one light-day. The seventh at one light-week, then one month, half-a year, one year, two years, three years, and so forth to ten years. It would then decelerate to a stop at eleven years, and portkey to the Moon orbit for retrieval. If everything went to plan, it would arrive back in twelve years.

In view of David Latham’s speculation that he had discovered a planet in orbit around HD 114762, one hundred twenty-six lightyears away, and Aleksander Wolszczan’s and Dale Frail’s discovery of two confirmed planets around the pulsar PSR B1257+12, two and a half thousand lightyears away, and the very real possibility of interstellar travel in this century, the scientific community was desperate to find nearby planets. Thus, there were now two telescope stations on the Moon. One at each pole. 

With fancy enough coordination and electronics, the two could be electronically linked as one, giving astronomers an effective mirror almost three-and-a-half-thousand kilometres, over two thousand miles, in size. Without an atmosphere to mess with their viewing, finding and actually seeing planets was well within the realm of possibility.


^-_-^


Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington’s Death Day party was unlike any celebration Harry had ever seen or heard of. With Sir Nicholas being the Gryffindor ghost, he had expected that it would be unusual. However, seeing the long, thin, jet-black tapered candles that lined the corridor to the dungeon room that held the party let him know his imagination was sorely lacking. Especially as the candles all burned a bright blue and cast a dim, ghostly light that made even the ponies appear to be ghosts.

Myrtle, quite naturally, refused to attend. She had had her fill of them, and their cruelty, when she had been a ghost.

That the temperature dropped as they continued onward was unexpected. Having a ghost freeze a pony to the bone if you accidentally walked through one, or it flew through you was normal, he knew. But he had never noticed them making a room soo much colder just by their presence. Or maybe he had just been used to the drafty and cold castle, and never noticed the slight addition when a ghost was nearby.

Then they turned a corner and could see Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes. They could also hear a horrible screeching sound, like two enormous pieces of metal sliding roughly against each other. 

“Is that music?” Ron mumbled incredulously.

Harry understood why the fillies and Hermione would want to know more about ghosts. He was interested, too. His mum would find the details intriguing. She might even try to wrangle an invite for the next year. However, Harry could see that Scootaloo was already making the face that said, “Well, I’ve seen enough. I’m bored. Let’s go.” But she didn’t say anything. They had promised, after all.

“My dear, dear friends,” Nearly Headless Nick mournfully said as he swept off his plumed hat and bowed. “So good of you to come. Welcome . . . Welcome.” 

He waved them inside with a flourish.

“Not a problem, Sir Nicholas,” Hermione said cheerfully as she passed him. The rest just nodded, not nearly as enthused at the experience before them as they had been.

It was a sight no pony would ever have believed possible. Harry was there, and he didn’t believe it! The chamber had hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people filling it almost completely. On a raised, black-draped platform at one end of the dungeon was the source of that awful shrieking, screeching noise. It was a thirty-member orchestra, playing musical saws as instruments, of all things!

Most of the ghosts were waltzing, to that dreadful, quavering sound on a crowded dance floor. A thousand more black candles blazed overhead on a chandelier, giving off that same midnight-blue light they had seen in the corridor. Apparently, large numbers of ghosts in one location did indeed lower the temperature of a room quite significantly — the room was like one giant freezer, and their breath rose in a mist before them.

Harry took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. His lungs felt like they were half-frozen. He surreptitiously cast a warming charm on his feet, hands, and robes. He wondered if there was a charm that would act like a mask and warm the air before he froze his lungs, like he was afraid was about to happen. 

Hmm. Such a spell would be useful when they were outside during winter, too. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about it later. And if she didn’t know of one, he bet his mum did. He’d send her a letter and ask, in either case. Hers might be better than the witch version.

They slowly meandered through the room, carefully avoiding walking through any ghosts. Not that that helped as the ghosts had no qualms about flitting through them going somewhere else.

They saw a knight’s squire who was somewhat singed around the edges, a gaunt woman with a noose around her neck, several ghosts in sailor uniforms draped in seaweed, and the Hufflepuff and Slytherin Ghosts. Harry wasn’t surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost, was being avoided by the other ghosts, with a wide space around him on all sides.

A long table draped in black velvet was on the other side of the room, and it appeared to have food on it. Ron led the way as they approached it, but he suddenly stopped and made a face of revulsion. The rest soon joined him, horrified.

Beautiful silver platters held large, rotten fish; other platters were heaped with burnt, charcoal-black cakes; the pride of Scotland, a giant haggis, was crawling with maggots and flies buzzing about it; other trays held bread and cheese so covered with furry mould that it was difficult to discern what exactly was underneath. Centred on the table, charred and mouldy, was an enormous, tombstone-like, grey cake. The black, tar-like icing said,


SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON


DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492


The smell was overpowering and quite revolting.

Astonishing them, Ron said, “Can we move? I feel sick.”

Which proved there was a limit to even what he could stomach.

The arrival of yet more ghosts, riding ghostly horses, no less, was an interesting and welcome distraction — especially as it meant the orchestra stopped playing that dreadful “music.” The leader of the “headless hunt” was a ghost named Patrick. He didn’t seem to notice that his group had more or less taken over Nick’s party as they proceeded to play Head Hockey. It was a rather deliberate slight on Nearly Headless Nick’s situation, or Patrick was incredibly socially dense. Especially as he, and the others in the hunt, seemed to delight in showing off that their heads were detached by tossing them around to each other in a bizarre game of hot . . . er, cold . . . potato.

Harry and the others didn’t stay much longer. After only a short time they already felt as if they’d never again be able to feel their fingers and toes. They headed out and up the stairs to the Halloween Feast in the Great Hall. They hadn’t eaten since lunch, and expecting ghosts to provide food for the living had been silly, as well as futile.

The Feast in the Great Hall was just as wonderful and exciting this year as last. The dancing skeletons were a surprising new addition that helped make the feast more entertaining. Harry thought they were quite delightful. He knew his mum would be more than interested in meeting them, and learning the spell that animated them.

What would happen if one of them went through the portal?


^·_·^