//------------------------------// // Chapter 21: Diplomacy // Story: The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards // by Cloud Ring //------------------------------// ∿∿∿ So, they arrived at the conduit — one of many pocket universes seeded by Black Moon; the number had been far into the seventh power of nines when Solid Line went to sleep, and surely was much more now — Solid Line desired to know the exact number, but she knew that the universes were slowly replicating over time to account for new souls submerging in the system. This one universe was distinct among all others due to being deliberately exposed to the Red. The conduit to contact it and hear it; to help it make a form while keeping safe the system as a whole. A part of the plan. As far as Solid Line knew, even attempts of making a contact were pretty few, let alone successful ones. Still, that, too, was part of the plan. Cursory Streak began to accelerate towards the scarlet dome, her first steps somewhat slow, but she definitely had identified her target, and that was bad on too many levels. Solid Line, not yet whole after finishing the jaunt— 🦋🦋🦋 —stood in the city ​​square under the combined light of two Moons, countless nines gathered, as far as the eye can see, “Hello, everypony! I… I’m here, in front of you all b-because there’s nopony else. Everypony has the last things to do, Pinkie went out of reach, Twilight is busy, and, I-I'm afraid, she will be b-busy for a long time, sorry. We must leave you, but we will always be somewhere near, do you hear me? There’s nothing to be afraid of, I say it, this is a wonderful world and you can keep it yourself, even without us. Everypony has to fly away from their parents sometime... but now, we have nine more cycles ahead, and I… Frankly, I don't want to leave. I know you don’t want us to either, and I hope Pinkie comes back, if only for the feast. Record it and remember, please. Remember... if Twilight is right and there is something after death, then we will be there, and… i-if not, then here's what I wish: care for each other. All of you are the very best ponies, it's a pity that I never had time to get to know everypony... I'm just too afraid. And forgive me that I’m clumsy, others would have said it better, but there are no others... ", above all I want to fly away from this crowd, disappear, but soon I will do it anyway, and… "What, an autograph? Yes, of course, dear, what should I write?"— ∿∿∿ —tried to short-circuit the space to stop the pegasus — there was no way Cursory's action could lead to anything but a net loss at this moment —  but she had neither the power of the past-Solid, nor her Moon above the horizon. She had Signal though. The cat clawed her side twice in a quick succession: intention to jaunt; Solid Line closed her eyes and after less than a third of a beat heard a sharp cry of a pegasus, still inappropriately and impeccably melodic. Solid Line couldn't help but replay it in her memory right afterwards, just once. She opened up her eyes and saw Signal hanging on the left wing of Cursory Streak — and the yanks of the wing did not help either of them. Less than a beat later, in jump-and-fall with a twist to one side, Cursory Streak pressed the cat between her side and the ground. Signal let out a strangled cry... "Enough," Solid Line said. She did not sense the tone with which she was speaking, nor did she dare to use ponykinesis against White Moon’s Herald in an ‘on duty’ state of mind, but the white pegasus looked at her, arching her neck, and muttered something. “Do you mind removing the animal before I resolve the issue myself?” Solid Line’s background processes recognized anger, albeit at an unsure 38% confidence, and, more reliably, a threat at 62%. But Solid could not risk it. “Let’s avoid harm. She is not an animal; a reimplant. Dispersal field,” Solid Line tried to clear a misunderstanding. The cat grunted hoarsely, but since Solid Line was looking directly at her, she couldn’t jaunt anymore — and Solid Line asked her eyes not to blink until further notice. “Uh-huh. Who is it then?” Cursory asked. “My aunt.” “I thought she was your teacher,” Cursory showed her teeth; Solid Line identified this as an 82% smile, “I never saw where she came from. I have seen her in the bag a beat ago, and the distance... Only the aspects of the Black Moon were able to catch me off guard, and nopony else did it even once.” The interweaving of background processes — curiosity, analysis of potential threats and management of social links — raised the  ‘investigation required’ flag, with a deadline of one cycle. Solid noted it, but more urgent tasks were at hoof. “Teacher too,” she replied, “Not a friend. You are a friend. I don’t want to lose you, so please avoid touching the scarlet.” Cursory replied instantly, “You seem to know a lot about Red. How, and why should I not?” Voice analysis gave a near-threshold signal of possible distrust — unlikely, but potentially devastating. “Past-Solid had a contact with the Red’s effector. It corrupts ponies when it doesn't kill them,” Solid Line replied. “That’s in line with what I know,” Cursory nodded, “But even with no sensors I know that it’s mild here, I can try and burn it. I should; that’s a rule.” “That's a hostile act, and you aren’t of the incinerating aspect — or are you? — so you’ll set the game at a start at a disadvantage. Let go of Signal and then we will wait. These negotiations are needed by the Red, not us. It will find a way to contact us,” Solid Line tried to call to reason. Cursory Streak narrowed her eyes; not immediately, but she stood up on her hooves. Signal ran up to Solid... but reached her two beats later than she should have. “You hurt her,” Solid said to Signal. Both answered her, at the same time, “No, not even close | Mr-ay (if only a little)” Solid Line allowed herself to blink. A few times in quick succession. She always knew in general terms what Signal wanted to say... but the difference between "in general terms" and "exactly" was about the same as between writing in civilian language and the imaging sigils. Solid Line was never against accuracy, but... “Please repeat?” she asked quietly. “H-rm (two or three feathers do not count as an injury)” Signal replied smugly. Solid Line sat down. It required some processing. ☄☄☄ Cursory came closer than three steps to the unicorn. She still looked like a statuette, and it was not possible to read her state — there was a golden mask in place of her face — and responded neither to the name, nor to calls to stand up, nor even to her cat at her side. Two more steps, and... The limited-admissibility technique of stepping on the tail didn’t work: the target shifted to the side, and neutrally reported, “Hey.” The cat meowed loudly; Solid sharply put her ears to her head, but otherwise her expression did not change. “Sorry,” Cursory said. “What happened? You said to wait, so I'm waiting, but it's scary and uneasy here, and you were always broken, but there is a line between broken and wasted.” “We are waiting,” confirmed Solid Line, “We are waiting longer. When we made a jaunt, did you experience any unusual sensations or did you hear other ponies' voices? Cursory nodded, “I was asked about the destination and who am I.” "That's to be expected," Solid nodded again. “Anything beside that?” Cursory Streak frowned. ...The forest is a dark canvas thrown over the world far below... three purple flares from below and from both her sides... “I'm not sure. There was something, but I don't know how to describe it, and I hardly remember. And how would I even tell a picture? We aren’t at the mnemo station.” “Thanks. In my own vision I performed in front of a wide audience, promised to return to them and signed autographs,” Solid Line fell silent. Cursory Streak waited, and inquired more, “So, why is it important?” “Because I didn't. I have never had a single public speech in my life.” Cursory nodded. “Fantasies. Once we find Gentle Touch, before anything else, we will check you up with our medics.” Solid Line turned her head to her and looked straight into her eyes, “I need your permission to weave magic in your mind. In order to preserve all such memories. This is more important than you probably think. I have never encountered anything like this before, but I— I had a warning that this is possible. And this is a good sign. I have an aspect for that, so don’t you worry,” the unicorn’s voice became almost pleading. Cursory didn't even think about it. “Of course not. Never touch my…” “Hello, friends,” a third voice interrupted her. Cursory Streak turned her head sharply to the sound, and saw Gentle Touch. Or maybe not. This creature did not look like a double either; doubles were very precise in copying appearances, but here... instead of a white mane, Gentle’s was colorless, like an albino, with uneven splotches of red all over the place. Instead of a pale orange coat, it was at best pink, at worst red. Copper, for sure. And the styling of the mane consisted of long, heavy strands on the sides. The voice... was not quite the same as Gentle’s, but not the usual distant and aloof voice of doubles either — no screeching or ringing of glass. No hatred or superiority in it, nor on Gentle Touch’s face. The pony seemed to expect that she would be impressive and unusual, but she was also afraid that she would be ridiculed — as a filly who for the first time made her own choices about what dress and make-up to wear, and is now showing the result to her family and friends. And, Cursory did not deny it, she had a stronger appeal now. Although a few inner alarms went off and bulbs flickered orange-yellow. The more Cursory looked at the newcomer with eyes wide, the less she saw a coherent picture — the pony projected mixed signals by her very existence. There was one more test though. Cursory Streak said to Solid Line, not turning away from the stranger, in a professional and calm tone, “Would you like to shift aside, then see and describe her mark from your angle? I don't want to be distracted. If there is no mark, you have my permission to break it.” Not-Gentle lifted her hoof a little, and from the stomach to the chest and neck of Cursory, a subtle wave of warmth passed, barely brushing the coat — softer than the blow of a hair dryer. Then the newcomer asked, suavely and politely, expecting a refusal in advance, “We... can we skip this step? This will complicate our negotiations. As I promised, I will return to you… will be returned to you... if the negotiations suit my needs.” Again, there was nothing to think about. Cursory Streak shook her head, glanced at Solid and nodded. Solid Line, already having made a shift, narrowed her eyes, “The mark is three red circles with small stylized rays; the circles form a pyramid. Each of these circles has a wedge cut and raised, as in one of the pie chart views.” Having heard the first sentence, Cursory exhaled and calmed down a bit. Unfortunately, there was the second one. Cursory Streak sighed, "Do we trust the Red? It’s lying, you said it yourself.” Solid Line did not answer, and Cursory Streak made the decision herself. She turned to the double, gathering the power of the White Moon, accumulating charge with each word,  “You can speak, but not a single step closer, and no magic at all, or you are over. As much as ‘you’ even are.” The fake Gentle sighed, almost like a real pony. It nodded, ears down, “Okay. It’s just a few things, really…”