Alex Mercer sat on the floor with his jogging prostheses crossed, leafing through his high school biology textbook, stroking a rather grunting xeno on the head, and pondering how the best genetic engineer on planet Earth had come to such a life. Not in terms of decisions and actions that led him to an outbreak of the virus in Manhattan and becoming a new self, but the fact that the conditioned "stress", the tension of the evolved brain significantly lost ground in this place, where he found himself against his will. How little a man needs to develop a new comfort zone for himself after eighteen days in hell! All that is needed is to replace the control levers of the Abrams, in which Mercer's claws clung to a crunch, with children's books; ruthless, fearless hominid-like monsters - to intelligent and friendly living creatures that do not mind at all that you beat them on the back of the neck instead of ripping off the scalp and then chopping off the head. Periodically, with a long tongue protruding directly from the esophagus, eat up the NATO self-heating canned food, which warms that stub of the left hand with pleasant warmth. To enjoy the forgotten taste of food, simple and solid - devouring zombies and soldiers in such a short time, rituals and the necessary halo of emotions did not have time to get it, it's clear.
Yes! It's good to be alive, damn it. Like a storm that all these weeks had been gathering over the head of the newly-minted Ubermensch and, as a result, almost erased him into atomic ash, suddenly retreated, throwing him into a quiet haven. You also want to know that Dana is not in danger... Make sure that Green has not done something secretive with her, turning her sister into a weapon against Mercer. Ragland cannot do it alone; I would be sure that the sight of the infected does not deceive Mercer, that everything is in order with Dana... Then it would definitely be possible to rest. To forget about sleep, to shift thought processes to chance, digital dreams of machines, which were now the subconscious of Alex. In this reflection of the Earth, at first glance, he could afford to rest. Mercer has been in the measurement of colorful horses for more than two days - but he has not noticed in the local society manifestations of pain, terrible diseases, poverty, insanity, crazy warriors who are ready to give the whole city to the virus to feed just because it will allow the upstarts from Gentek a few more to make brilliant discoveries. Nothing that Mercer was used to dealing with, in a word. Viruses, in principle, were not found here, as a phenomenon, if Alex correctly interpreted the scraps of information that he managed to pull out from a medical reference book. Bacteria - please, the same illustrations in the book did not allow their existence to be interpreted differently, but here are the obligate parasites of the domain from which Mercer earned his living... It seems that they were completely impossible to find here. There was also a section in the reference book devoted to sores and pathogens of a "magical" nature, but for Alex it was a forest even more dense than the Infinite-freedom-from-creation, through which the evolved one had a chance to wander. And his new acquaintances were too young to help Mercer in this field, and they only blinked at his badly posed questions. Well, they clarified the basics of local literacy and the life in general - and thanks for that. The books, again, were brought in. It was hoped that this specialized guide had not been stolen insolently from the equine doctors; I would not like to start peaceful contact with the small people accustomed to stealing... It is not the first time for Mercer to appropriate everything that is bad, including military equipment, and these people still have their whole life ahead of them.
The trinity of foals, meanwhile, perfectly illustrated the serenity that reigned in this town, extending to the older generation as well. The overwhelming majority of the xenos were cheerful, smiling, many were completely hyperactive, which made Mercer in the process of espionage them for every fireman to stay away. The mess, which now settled on Alex's lap, also had a very violent character, but this caused a smile rather than rejection... The zoomorphs did not seem happy due to the general zombie - why should they be dissatisfied, in fact? All are attached to some kind of work, well fed, have a roof over their heads, there is something to occupy their leisure, based on what they see. It would be funny if, in the presence of real "magic", they did not have all this, but were forced to plow for twenty hours a day in the mines. As Mercer had already postulated, in a place like this, he would not mind relaxing, allowing himself, after eighteen days of continuous running with scissors, to clear his mind of unnecessary impurities. There is no need to put the skin under the splinters, the zombie apocalypse does not threaten to spill out beyond the Upper and the tricks of Green to take over the whole world... In the forest nearby, the birds are singing, and not hovering with a menacing scream, black helicopters, again, the "last argument of kings" does not threaten is about to swallow most of New York with a red-hot ball. But Mercer reminded himself again and again that the lull was temporary, forcing his mind to throw off the shackles of the approaching drowsiness and work on. The thunderstorm may have passed by, but the element is fierce and unpredictable when it comes to Greens and other creatures with forces that go beyond the usual human framework, beyond the boundaries of immediate comprehension. The queens, whom the foals denoted by the more tender and feminine tonality of their adjective "dominant", were dangerous, no matter what their intentions were. Princesses (as it would be more accurate to denote the title in a literary translation) could turn the calm into an all-crushing hurricane in a single moment, and the moon pony - literally. And although the usual guards also gave a damn about the laws of physics and common sense, familiar to Alex, they were by no means weaker than winghorns. As long as he was not overwhelmed with numbers and trapped in an open field, Mercer could have escaped at the expense of his speed and newly discovered immunity to directed "magic." But seriously to fight with those who are immediately capable of freezing you into a giant piece of ice or appearing at another point in space-time, at once getting away from the blow... All the tricks that Alex has nothing to fend off with, is simply dishonest!
Unsurprisingly, Mercer kept hiding for a while. Being in the house of the Seekers-designation, Human constantly kept in touch with the three photocells, detecting the movement of large objects and combined with heat sensors, but everything was calm outside. Only once a pegasus guard flew past, of whom, with the cancellation of the curfew, there were still a lot of them in the city and its environs. He could not see anything - but the little conspirators, not wanting to share their find with the world, would have shut the windows tightly and barricaded the door, if the white unicorn had not resisted this. She said something about "dark" and "sca-a-a-ary". Fortunately, the remaining two friends agreed with the arguments, because they did not smile at them sitting in their own club with only flashlights. The fact that it would generally look too suspicious, the little ones did not take into their heads. The apple-burgundy stallion that looked at them ten minutes later did not find anything suspicious: Alex sniffed into the attic with a fractional clatter of claws, raising a whirlwind from paper, as soon as he recognized someone approaching the tree instead to pass by. Having sent an inconspicuous brush for reconnaissance, he found out that Shu's relative had dropped in to check whether all the foals were in order against the background of the events of the last couple of days, and brought them some vegetable sandwiches for a snack. The laconic pony only chuckled in response to the chirping of the light yellow filly, but apparently did not notice anything superfluous. Maybe he considered the collection with many books to be their next amusement - all the more so, with fright, Rustle managed to grab the book upside down and, sitting on the floor, was trying hard to pretend concentration, staring at it. Or maybe they really wanted to take on the mind against the backdrop of the imminent school year, about which Mercer has already managed to snatch information from the overloaded data stream that the foals poured on him after establishing contact with them. Anyway, senior... cousin? brother? uncle? It doesn't matter if he took the paper chaos condescendingly. Well, think about it, the small fry again decided to play something. The stallion left to bother about the household with the rest of the workers who lived on the farm (a pattern or a funny coincidence, but almost everyone from the company could boast of "apple" shades of fur). Mercer, having monitored that the object was removed from the controlled area, cautiously moved to the stairs. When Shu quietly called by the name he introduced to the xenos and by which his enemies called him, he leaned out from the second floor, conscientiously twirling narrow plates like locators - showing alertness, but not aggressive. Hanging down with a ball-shaped head on a long neck with a face-mask, clipping "ears", for the second time he made fun of the filly. Alex again considered it a success: his corrected "robotic" appearance, if not attractive, was neutral in degree to seem funny with a pinch of comic. Shaking her head when Marshmallow offered him a sample of local cooking - she was not offended, however, already knowing about the gastronomic preferences of a guest from another world - Mercer returned to isolating the information he needed. I had to bother to find out if the xenos could let him in; can Alex, in their understanding, be generally friendly, associate with something from their culture conducive to communication, like the same Number Five.(1) And in general, is a fleeting impulse to protect from hooliganism and get closer to the children of the local Equids is a good idea, different from marasmus.
Having lost hope of contacting "friends", Mercer spent the rest of yesterday in the swamps, scouting the area and slowly pulling the terraformer net even further. Checked if everything was in order. I noticed several winged patrols - but they did not descend to the trees, apparently fearing not only the hydra, but also the territory captured by the red smog in general. Now Mercer understood that the environment simulating the life support of the virus was also creating interference in the magical background, and there was no way to "enlighten" it. The intruders set up surveillance over the area and quieted down... Perhaps they were preparing an operation to eradicate a genetic weed that took down such extensive roots? Be that as it may, the battle ponies did not climb on the rampage so far, and they were of little interest to Mercer. The forest dwellers did not bring any trouble to Alex either - in the territory that a large predator, the hydra, staked out for itself, they were represented by amphibians, birds no larger than a heron and other harmless living creatures. They could not be bothered at all, forcing them to flee - in a swamp, with constant fogs and abundant moisture... "It was difficult to name. The creature looked lazily up at the bony biped. Raising her mouth, she flicked her fangs, curved like a scimitar, after which she still slowly swam away, rowing with her paws and tail, which were hard, as if from a stone, hewn out of stone. When the creature finally disappeared into the quagmire, Mercer, under the cover of the branches, moved on, letting the scout ahead of him.
Yes, now he could afford it. Alex saved up a little more (by the standards of evolved) calories and building materials, having used up all but one of the helium cylinders. I could have allowed myself more fat on my bones - but I preferred to lower the reserve to the terraformer, to capture an ever larger territory, in order to arrange a large salt battery as soon as possible. To increase the period of autonomous activity to at least three days, and not to run from refueling to refueling in the swamps... Maybe the soldiers subordinate to these queens on one of the evolved routes are already preparing to intercept! But on the other hand, Alex added veins and muscles to his full-fledged arm, provided his own reserve of energy - and reproduced the fourth finger for symmetry, because it would be inconvenient to run the hand with a tripod. Two thumbs, each on its side, two forefingers... The construction looked a little like a familiar hominid. Well, and the appearance was limp, rather resembling a shabby spider with claws and a burning point of the sensor between the front legs. The construct is small, but the benefit is great... Just like during captivity, into which the lifeless body of Zeus was taken, as he believed, by McMullen. Invisibility due to its small size should have become its main trump card. As for the rest of the body, Alex left his only lung despite the meager reserves of gas. I wanted to remove it after I broke into the town, but assumed by the end that normal contact could take place, including verbal one. I did not recreate the second hand from the stub at all, preferring to spend the materials accumulated from the terraformer on a few more bombs. A hand and a half - still not two, but to think that this could make Alexander a less lethal enemy was a dangerous mistake...
Mercer spent the night in the forest itself, according to the foals he later christened either Eternal Wild or Eternal Free. The speculatively single living organism reacted more calmly to its return this time, as if it was accustomed to an unusual visitor that did not harm its inhabitants last time. At least the four self-propelled woodpiles that met at the leisurely wandering Alex on the way, grumbled dully, falling on all four paws, but preferred to retreat. The trailing wolf just snorted, throwing a handful of earth towards Mercer with its rear pieces of wood. Either the dogs were more experienced and more careful than their unlucky predecessors, or... maybe they were really controlled by something, and they were entirely artificial creatures - to a greater extent than Mercer now saw himself. In the treetops sang drto a friend, nocturnal birds flitting from branch to branch; occasionally a man heard the screams of creatures and howls, the source of which among the animal world of the Earth would be difficult to name. The Luna, probably subordinate to that dark pony, added mystery to the alien forest, painting silvery halos through the foliage and shading the age-old trees, giving them the appearance of fairy giants silently towering over Alex. There was no smell of acidic marsh gases and those cheerful flowers that gave off mustard gas in part - a cool wind blew over the muscles, bleeding off the free heat from them. Foliage rustled under the stilts of the measuredly rearranged feet.
Again, as then on the shore a day ago, he wanted to stop. He wanted to close his eyes and raise head to the sky, squeeze the more nonexistent toes, rake them a living carpet of forest grasses and fluffy moss. An orange-yellow silhouette flashed over man's head, while the heat sensor responded in a brilliant flash. The source of light flew around the clearing, and Alex watched in fascination as the radiant play of flame that enveloped the creature in the night. The mutant closed his eye, hoping to at least mentally transfer himself to the unknown nature of his native Terra. Mercer thought it would be pleasant for him to walk on soft moss and dewy grass, and think of something detached. At least not that Mercer more and more reminded himself of a research probe with a machine gun at the ready, thrown into another world by an unknown creator who was indifferent to the fate of creation.
But now the fiery bird flew away, occasionally filling the night with its sonorous trills, and the obsession passed. Alex flinched, opening his eyes. How long was he prostrated in hostile territories? A minute? Ten contemplated local beauty? It was still a few hours before dawn; memories of the fact that intelligent beings are capable of summoning him here with the power of thought quickly returned the thoughts of the evolved to their usual cold mood. I didn't want to rest anymore - the rhythmic sound attracted the attention of the mutant, returning him to a strange, terribly wrong world. Sullenly Alex began to type his step further, until he went out into the woods, and then found himself completely in an open field. There, crossing the valley with tens of kilometers of rolling rail, a freight train was passing, illuminated in the night by lanterns. The source of the sound, which sounded differently in a rarefied atmosphere and was not immediately recognized by Mercer, no doubt, was the freight train and served.
“Railroad...” Alex muttered, assessing his position on the orienteering, which he created in his head thanks to the information technology of the virus. “Khe... Okay, it took me far.”
It was time to round off and rearrange the stilts in the opposite direction. Finally, Mercer took a look at the night before him. One could, if something happened, get lost among the carriages and, like that, unnoticed in the darkness, calmly leave somewhere far away from the local civilization. The guards are now surely checking the paths leading out of the city, but fooling them would probably not be too difficult. Although... Alex has already been thrown into the wilderness. No highways, not even country roads, except for those that intersected in the town - all around the forest, ravines, mountains and water bodies. Even now, when Alex moved away from the village at a decent distance, as far as the eye could see, there were plains mixed with hills, untouched by technogenesis. And the fact that the queens arrived in the boondocks personally, and did not send some local special forces to deal with Mercer, clearly indicated the seriousness of their intentions. No, God forbid, they would not immediately destroy the mutant, but gutting and seeing what useful things can be obtained from Zeus is easy. Past experience was not in their favor; Mercer had every reason to distrust governments in any form. Even if cat horses have a different psychology, from his point of view it was not a sin to fly to a remote province for such a tidbit... Not that Alexander had a good idea why he could be needed by witchcraft zoomorphs.
Well, maybe the pony town and the adjacent lands were not so miserable for the country (or what other forms of territorial formations were adopted by the ponies?). Stumbling into a network of ravines, somewhere in the foggy distance turning into a rocky gorge, and following it back to the city, Mercer stumbled upon the ruins of clearly defensive purposes. Not a forest straight, but a storehouse of surprises! The ancient stronghold, although it had seen better days, still looked solid and in its scope reminded of its former greatness. A little imagination - and thanks to the surviving towers, it could be mistaken for the castle of Dr. Frankenstein... Wasn't this whole forest a secret testing ground with laboratories hidden in the wilds of the middle lane? Are the products of out-of-control experiments running around here? Mercer watched the remains of the fortress for half an hour, but did not find any signs that it is here that chimeras continue to be born in an autonomous mode, in manner of placental welding of the Hunter-Leader, created from parts of individual animals... Only the wind blew through the ruins. Having chased the occasional adventurous thought through the convolutions and dismissed it, Mercer just shrugged. There was not enough data to allow such a evolved descent to climb into the shelter of local sorcerers, albeit an abandoned one - so he got away, deciding to leave the attraction for later.
Alexander made the rest of the way without incident. Taking off all his belongings, including a signal flare gun with a couple of cartridges, he carefully scrubbed the shell in the spring again, cleaned out the weapon - it was not enough for the sensitive nose of the Equid, inherited from four-legged ancestors, to catch the sulfurous (for local) smell from the heat circuits. He no longer came across mutant chimeras, either in terms of a heat trail or in fact. Only on the way to the city of Mercer began to feel nauseous, and auditory hallucinations again intensified. The suspicions were confirmed when Alex pulled out a Geiger counter, the only worker of the three, found in the emergency packs of the biodefense troops. The device really chirped deafeningly, and Alex took to the right, nervously looking around and with difficulty restraining the laughter rushing out. So it was the radiation in the hills that ripped Mercer out of his bad mood? It was funny in itself: an ordinary human would already be bleeding, covered with radiation burns, and Mercer had enough to vomit - and Homeric laughter quickly lost power over his emotional mood. Apparently, indeed, his body brought radioactive plasma with fluorescent particles into the enzymatic bag, and then made a discharge. Apart from the nervous system going crazy, other sensations were almost identical to the drug waste: dry mucous membranes, painful sensations in the muscles, pressure surges in the joint capsules... Nature here completely ignored the increased radiation background, remaining healthy and luxuriant.
What the hell? Didn't the radiation cause neutron activation only on Mercer on the pony planet, without harming the rest of the matter? The dogheads from the hills, even though they looked uglier than ponies, well-groomed and beautiful in their own way, were not the ulcer-eaten creatures living in the epicenter of the "dirty" bomb explosion. Toward dawn, Alex made his way to the hills, determined to use some more of the reserve instead of tissues and fluids, which would have to be thrown out as infected. The dogs now seemed even more imposing fighters than they had when they first met, a sort of Tolkien orc — stocky, with broad shoulders, a sloping head, and mounds of muscle covered with short hair and stiff bristles rolling under their hide. Yet the dogs also seemed peaceful; although they had a fighting spirit (and silly), they had neither fortifications nor other wisdom of fortification art at their disposal. Nothing hinted that they were at enmity with their neighbors of acidic shades - so, for the sake of form, a guard at each entrance to the mines stood yawning into a fist. One even managed to react, when something almost silently flew out of the darkness, which consisted entirely of bones and joints. Eyes bulging, flea food raised its spear, opened its bony mouth in a vain hope to warn its relatives. Mercer simply lowered his fist on the bowler hat, crushing it, and the dog collapsed as if knocked down, bringing his eyes to the point. Until the creature woke up, he quickly made a short inspection of the caves near the entrance. The counter started to crackle, but on one subject it was downright pissed off.
“No, friends, I'm not a discoverer of new worlds, kha, as if in the classic sci-fi,” Alex, doomed-cheerfully, was talking to himself after sunrise, hiding at the other end of the town in the bush. “Hey, and a philologist I’m not just like that. (1a) This is not inhabited Mars, damn it, this is the natural world of the post-apocalypse! There is no food, the air is poisoned, the water is not suitable for drinking... inhabited by mutants, tree robots and lithium-based androids. But there is no particular need to attach a gas mask and there is no need in Hazard suit! I remember that Hope's Carnival-2 passed under the guise of testing the newest rad-protector... Well, they never lied.”
A collar with a small crystal, which Alex stole with the guard slowly beginning to come to himself, and became the subject of his interest. The glowing mineral, like quartz sintered after a nuclear explosion, served as an object of decoration. The tunnels probably mined it in the depths of the hills - already at the entrance to the evolved one, they met the details of the miner's life and the development of the territory in general. Lattices, lanterns hung under the arches, boxes, supports, some kind of pipes, rough rails made of metal, leading even deeper down... Maybe an identical geological layer lay in the forest, or maybe not, just something similar in "magic" nature, because the "hot spot" was much more modest in size, and Alex got out of it without any problems.
Yes, now that Alex once again cleared his stomach and cleared his mind, he realized that radiation is a sign of some particular kind of witchcraft. What the evolved human perceives as a negative factor is sufficient for local matter. internally safe alpha particles - or equids with other animals were completely screened, by default they had the same "magical" neutron stability. Crystals... Alex noticed a faint trace of radiation not only in the decorations of individual ponies, but also in the armor of the bat-hybrids, and in the spearheads carried by the hornless and wingless ponies. The xenos had technologies for processing this mineral and using it. Could it be that crystals are included in the construct of other devices, more complex and familiar to Mercer, like the same radio station? Not computers, let's say, and cell phones - but everyday miracles, like hair dryers in the spa, past which a brush has slipped, ovens for cooking and lanterns that do not require electricity and are not connected by wires to a dam, but are directly supplied with energy, like Tesla's receivers?
Complex devices. Meaningful purpose and integration into everyday life. All this could have been taken from scratch, presented by the same celestials as a gift to primitive villagers, but the likelihood of this is extremely low. Magic, read the highest technology, can allow progress, pioneering... and experiment, a faithful companion on this path, familiar to Alex. Someone from the highbrow ponies could finish badly - hence such an interest of the mighty of this world? It is not clear why the four-legged scientists turned their gaze to the mutant almost erased from the dimension of Terra, but... It seems that it was the ponies who were responsible for his moving here. After all, Alex saw out of the corner of his eye during a crazy race through the city, as alabaster grace disappears in a flash of golden light. Teleportation and the transition between universes (a different mass of elementary particles allowed such a conclusion to be drawn) are not the same thing, but the difference is not great for a humanof the twenty-first century. Although it was written in fiction, one hell of a thing in terms of accessibility, the phenomenon turned out to be near-divine.
Damn it, Alex thought as he followed the brush route to his new destination. Maybe he is being careful excessively? Xenos may know about the evolved no more than Alex about them, they should be afraid of everything unlike them, buried in the shadows - but now they wander the streets, unafraid and smiling, with such warmth with each other starting conversations, as if yearning to sit locked up! They quickly calmed down... only yesterday morning broke into the city, and today only individual guards on patrol and repair work at the fountain, pastry shop and a number of houses that were damaged by Alex remind of this. Was this exceptional peacefulness a consequence of the fact that xeno psychology grew out of the herbivore lifestyle? If so, this whole situation could really be a product of chance... and not a carefully planned operation to catch living weapons in another dimension.
“But what this situation will turn out to be, kha, that's another question,” Mercer muttered.
Terribly thirsty. To wet the throat with normal water, and not with distillate from modified kidneys, feel the familiar even tastes and smells, and not the metallic taste of beryllium on the mucous membranes. Now, even if by some unknown miracle it is possible to get a flask, then how to pour its contents into this... what used to be called a mouth. Natural cloaca on the back of the upper jaw - where under the eye sockets the "mask" bones joined the cranium, exposing the failure of the trachea and esophagus. To reproduce the sampling tongue, or something...
Alex shook his head, chasing away thoughts of water. Well, let it be, since the containers in those emergency packages were smashed by a blow. Will endure, not small. All these were needs exclusively from the category of psychological ones - those to which the mind clings, trying to convince the mutant of the phenomenon of "former self". Well, now he is definitely less than a man - half of the analogs of systems and organs have disappeared... So far, it was difficult to form a complete opinion about what the Mercer virus turned into, and indeed there is no time to breed philosophy. And so there are enough troubles to raise the troubles of our modern history. About cat horses, however, it has not yet been possible to create a digestible and self-consistent concept. Now Mercer attributed all sorts of anomalies to the fundamental differences of the zoomorphic culture, due to their nature, evolved in a way that a human could never have - but the ubiquitous details of "similarity" made Alex tormented by vague doubts. Replace the ponies with people, remove magic tricks, and he would immediately say that this city is someone's colony, where all the dissatisfied were unloaded, so that they would not get in the way. They settled them on free land near the disfigured exclusion zone, leaving very few opportunities to change their lives and attitudes towards it, vegetating (by the standards of the technogenic civilization of the 21st century) in poverty.
One thing could be said for sure - this is not the Old West, if only because the kids at school study and have fun, and do not work, getting out of their small forces, shoe shiners, factory apprentices and chimney sweeps. Rightly judging that the volumes in the previously seen library will be too complex, and their abundance will delay Alex for a long time in search of the necessary book, evolved to school and went. The establishment was located in some semblance of a park area on the edge of the city, surrounded by trees and a hedge, behind which the same hilly terrain lay. Leaning out of the bushes, Mercer looked from the playground to the building, painted with colorful ornaments and hearts. He was embarrassed by the authenticity of the classical English school, combined with a "toy" palette. The silence, unusual for this kind of institutions, was also straining - the school was empty, except for a few heat traces of adults, possibly from among the staff. There were no lessons, either because of an alien invasion, or because of the summer vacation... Only a couple of children were observed in the far corner of the playground. Throwing the machine gun behind his back and rustling his camouflage coat in the grass, Alex somehow huddled under the carousel-twirl, released his brush for reconnaissance. Down through the slowly opened basement window. Past the printing press and the skinny-looking foal - already up the stairs. Hide on the ceiling from the vibrations of an adult pony that quickly clicked along the corridor. With a barely audible creak, open the door of one of the classrooms and climb inside. Concentrating on his perception of the "spider", Mercer strolled around the teacher's desk and began to examine the bookshelves.
Hmm, a problem. The Equid language was hard; the meaning was determined not only by the combination of sounds, but often also by the tonality, highlighting a certain part of the phrase with the voice. Well, purely musical notation! Copying third-party conversations will not help you figure out the details - you cannot make out the features of grammar without help from the outside, without someone who will at least tell you what designation a subject has in the language of tetrapods. And on fragmentary data and computing power of machines, albeit extremely adaptive, it was possible to derive the structure of the language from etymology for a very long time. After rustling the paper on the classroom shelves, Alex could only make out that the hoofed animals also had adventure literature (judging by the cover), purely "fabulous" books with vivid illustrations and even... comics.
Damn it, thought Mercer hesitantly, while the brush was briskly fingering with clawed fingers, leafing through the colorful issue with either local superheroics, or some other pulp fiction in pictures. The xenomorphs certainly had the rudiments of mass culture, which means that among its adherents there could be found those who dreamed of other worlds, of meetings with aliens who come not only to enslave and destroy... an alien robot ready to make contact? This version was not so different from the real state of affairs. Some of the AI-stitched insides allowed Mercer to be attributed to a completely different, hitherto unknown to science species. Now, however, he is more of a drone than an autonomous combat vehicle: there is no more synthesis station in the abdominal cavity, all that is superfluous has been loaded into the resource deposit. Chemicals from the farm were also sent there. It is curious, but could Alex now be ranked as a specific species? Indeed, at that time, the evolved one had changed even more... Taking the genotype of the hunter with his shortened legs as a basis, Mercer created a new platform adapted to disguise as a four-legged - but, moreover, it copes well with upright posture. Was there for him at all now the border of being "the former self"?
Again, uncomfortable and untimely questions popped into my head. Grimacing mentally and from the outside (at least trying to portray this expression on the pale skin that made up the stub of his "face"), Alex again plunged into the study of pony books. A history textbook with illustrations stylized as old engravings was a good find. In addition to the already familiar black and white twins, who, naturally, occupied not the last place in the history of the people of intelligent cat horses, I came across other races. At first, Alexander even doubted whether he had another book of fairy tales at his disposal? But the further he deepened, the more clearly he realized that these were not fairy tales... It was, his mother, a natural dragon surrounded by some pilgrim ponies with a volcano in the background. Among a couple of dozen more engravings, about the content of which Mercer had absolutely no idea, there were meetings of ponies with a crowned griffin, shaggy stags and other obviously intelligent creatures, for they were also depicted with adornments or wardrobe details attached.
Mercer slammed manual and jumped to the floor with his brush, huddling under the modest size of the desk. Having wrapped a muscular "tail" of flexors around the drone, he disconnected from it. It was required to ponder the news from the category, in which one is crazier than the other. If this is true, and the intersection with this world extends to human folklore, if other "magic" fables are just boring everyday life... Mercer did not know how to react to this. But, as far as he understood, something that would resemble people was not here. On the contrary, the cases are interactions with other intelligent species, completely unlike anything, were documented - so the fate of Gulliver is unlikely to be prepared for the evolved. (2) Mercer will be mistaken for a representative of an alien race, and will not be seen in him as a strange anomaly among cattle , wild and aggressive, but for some reason dressed up in a camisole. Yes, he should not be taken for unreasonable in case of establishing contact, especially since Zeus has already discerned the ability to communicate and use technical devices... And if you run away, considering the contact to carry more risks than benefits? Where should Mercer go in that case? Found among textbooks, he had to go through the atlas, but he practically did not understand anything. This land was a mono-continent in manner of Pangea. Although separate climatic zones were visible, the scale turned out to be difficult to imagine, because the system of coordinates and calculus was also unfamiliar to Human. So guess now: either they have a planet twice as wide as the Earth, on most of the surface occupied by one endless ocean and polar ice, or some magic is responsible for the gravity almost identical to the Earth. As it should be, there were marks of settlements in the atlas, photographs with views of them. A large city on the seashore, suspiciously reminiscent of his native New York, and in particular a statue in the bay, gave Alex a paranoia. Too many coincidences! But how will it turn out that this is still an imitation in a dying brain, from the fragments of Dr. Mercer's restored memory of his world, which has collected this narcotic delirium of acidic shades? Borrowing such scales in the cultural layer on the theory of Multiple Discovery (3) cannot be written off!
Absorbed by the confusion among the mental images that swelled in his feverish brain, Alex did not immediately notice how someone was sitting on the carousel directly over his head. At first, a sarcastic voice reached the evolved attention. Alerted, Mercer gave focus on two small ponies, which he had not observed on the site until the moment the scout was sent. And finally, he realized that the carousel squeaks slightly from above, as if taking on someone's weight. From there, more muffled children's voices were heard - and insult and discontent were noticeable in them. Spinning the merry-go-round, one more foal jumped off towards the two "standard" filly. The swirls of her cherry-hued mane bulged, like little wings, the expression on her face could not be called anything other than belligerent. Her gray opponent just burst out laughing and murmured something in her tongue, while the filly with the striped mane looked at the flyer with obvious disdain. The noise of the girl squabbling flaring up made Mercer painfully close his eyes. In the middle of the entire site, they could not choose a better place, the hunter grab them!
Praise to Linnaeus, when the second pony jumped off the spinner, the white unicorn, already ready to take the fighters away, the foals called out from the school porch. A female of the color of a ripe cherry, leaving the building, looked sternly at the juvenile bully and reprimanded them. To this, the lilac-mane chirped something, making excuses, blinking her eyes with sincere misunderstanding. Directly innocence itself... Alex, due to the specifics of his life, for a very long time had no business with such an audience, but she was familiar to Dr. Mercer. When, after the teacher (probably it was one of them), a cat-horse came out with an arrogant expression on its face, and, in turn, began to express a complaint to Cherry, Mercer quietly snorted. The color scheme is similar - most likely, the "little princess" with a hairpin in the form of a crown was the daughter of the oversized mare. And the parent was clearly unhappy that her child was thrashed, albeit verbally. An apple from an apple tree is also often a bad heredity, both in the terran dimension and here... Having bowed dryly to the mentor of the youth, the mare gave her daughter a parting word and went into the city, lifting her nose as if she was afraid that her wig would fall off her. Silver with pigtails and pink, shouting something after her, cleared out to the other end of the site, giggling wildly. The teacher went up to the trio of foals that were indignantly babbling under their breath; to the unicorn and pegasus, a "regular" filly was added to Mercer's field of vision. She began to explain something to them - in a gentle, calm voice. Alex considered the state of affairs to be normalized and was about to take the brush out of the school... But then a pegasus from the Golden Guard landed nearby, blowing a gust of wind on the pony and forcing Mercer to flatten even more in the shadows, merging with the ground.
Let’s see, thought Alex, noticing a bulky sling bag on the back of the winged one and how surprise appears on the teacher's face as they talk. I think this ornithopter is here for a reason.
The little ones in the neighborhood pricked up their ears, afraid to miss a word. Alex understood them: for interest it was enough that the already familiar title of wing-horns flashed through the guard's speech. Perhaps the soldier only brought orders for child safety, but Mercer I sensed that everything was not so simple. Then Cherry remembered that it was too early to initiate the children themselves into this kind of matter... Politely, but firmly, the pony sent them away, in turn inviting the guard to follow her into the building. The foals looked disappointed, but Alex had no time to be careful and figure out what they would do because of this. Will not miniature horses, which in the future are going to grow into full-fledged distortions of reality, turn the entire site upside down from resentment, discovering Mercer?
After activating his channels of perception in the drone, Mercer got out into the corridor, moving along the ceiling in the same direction as the ponies were heading. They, conducting a quiet conversation among themselves, entered another classroom, bright and spacious. Alex, so as not to attract attention, at the last moment slipped through the closing door. When the Equids were distracted by each other, he hid behind a trash can. The drone scanned the room with its sensors, focusing on the pony crouched at the table. The desks were even smaller here; the junior grades were engaged here, apparently, staffed with the same trinity of filly and their enemies they saw. In the conversation between their teacher and the guard, familiar words and combinations flashed, but the meaning could not be determined until the pony with a pale pink mane leaned on the table, looking expectantly at the guard. He hesitated and took out a large box from his bag. Cherry opened it - and Alex naturally made the drone a stance, straining all its articulated legs, like a hound sensing prey. For the most seductive picture opened to his gaze... Scrolls with a minimum of text unfolded in the air - all diagrams, pictures, logical constructions. Something that looked like a map of a star system. The same schematic data on the biology of ponies of all three main species, and much more.
Is this a local version of the Voyager gold plate? getting into the typical excitement of a researcher that he found the right path to gaining knowledge, Alex thought. But then reasonable questions cooled his ardor. Where did this data come from? If they were collected in a hurry, then why are they not with the officials who could be contacted by the alien in case of contact? But if this is the established procedure for contact with new races... Did the pony scientists expect that they would be able to pull someone intelligent from another dimension? They so easily decided to pull this someone out of his home world, if not killing, then fucking breaking his psyche? Under the carousel, Mercer grumbled faintly, annoyed with his own thoughts. Why did the messenger of the aristocrats responsible for day and night bring this chest so openly? Wouldn't it have been better to hide your intention by simply teleporting the bait to the right person... uh, pony, transfer it in stealth mode, or by some other magical method? To lure Mercer with this data, supposedly just by default, by some pony from the local educational system, as the same manual for children, and then catch the mutant?
However, if you remember that zebra... Most likely, the local rulers know that Zeus does not trust them. Maybe they still haven't tried to take Mercer seriously because this race is peaceful, not only in appearance, but also in deeds? In theory, they may indeed fear accidental victims; even though Alex cannot compete with two astropaths, his mind has already considered hundreds of ways to do good and do justice, if they are completely cornered. The queens might have decided that Mercer would detect the covert transmission of information that Alex needed to learn and perceived as something dangerous. Is that why they are going to leave their message with the teacher, with whom the alien could establish contact, since she is sweet, kind and has experience of communicating with individuals who are just about to enter the society of adult ponies? Maybe the parcel was not specifically addressed to Cherry, but to the teachers of the school as a whole... Can a newcomer trust such an unstable and frivolous stratum of society like children? No seriously?
Who knows if the wing-horns didn’t want Alex’s line of reasoning to go exactly in this rut. They gave a handbook on applied eco-walking to the teacher without hiding, only overly curious children were escorted out - that is why Mercer would not think to step on the carpet paved for him. The white mare, as the oldest and wise for years, clearly knows how to read other people's moves. But did she not think that Alex might consider the teacher to be an unreliable source? Who would seriously trust the judgment of a human who is part of a (speculatively) hostile system? Into the scorching heat this box with self-unrolling scrolls... While the guard was giving Cherry some more instructions, Alex led the brush out through the barely open door into the corridor. Not seeing anyone on the street, he carefully opened the window and got out. And I immediately noticed that, on the one hand, the situation had changed dramatically - but, moreover, returned to normal.
First, one of the three previously seen filly, with a lush ban volume on her head and a small bag, staring directly at Mercer. At the part of him that froze on the windowsill, to be more precise. Alex instantly threw the drone into the grass, burrowing into the ground with sharp movements, like a sandy six-eye Sicarius, and merging with it, after which he switched to the main body of his body.
Secondly, two sleek little ponies are back. As soon as the teacher was absent, everything became as before: they galloped up from the far edge of the site and continued to bully their peers. The whole company has already moved away from the carousel, giving Alex a good overview. It seemed that the white unicorn was about to cry - and her winged friend was furiously flaring her nostrils, hinting with all kind that some people would now be poured on the first number. For sim on the yellow pony, all trying to convey the idea of the huge spider on the window to them, they could not get distracted.
Something stirred deep in Alex's soul. It was neither the solidarity of a botanist hounded at school, nor a suddenly heightened sense of justice. Alex didn’t like bully, regardless of whether they threw offensive language or sent packs of anti-personnel grenades at Mercer and shocked him, this is true. But he didn’t like muddies, being himself a rather unpleasant type in stressful situations, in the sense that he had to put up with their existence; to choose the lesser evil, to act as he did not want to under other circumstances. Quick legs and lean body of a teenager more than once saved the "upstart from the orphanage" from hooligans. Others were able to buy off their homework... The most implacable (and just as fast) retreated when it came to them: you can break a face like Alex in blood, break his nose and hands - but you yourself will bitterly regret having contacted him. Everyone knows what can be done to you in such a shitty institution as an orphanage if you are not able to stand up for yourself. And when Mercer grew up, finally got out into people and helped his sister to get out of the lower classes of society, got the complete, as he believed, control over the world that he had been building for himself for years... exist. The latest successes buried their names in the memory of a man - now these plebeians were not able to cause at least some harm to the young, but already quite famous scientist. By the power of authority, his own mind, and crisp green bills, Dr. Mercer believed himself capable of solving any problem.
Most likely, the reaction to the skirmish of children was played by ordinary human empathy, from which there is no escape, even after learning to kick a car flying. Alexander Mercer was not exactly a stale biscuit. The concepts of protecting the weak and the needy, helping "their own", the same Dana, were so strong that they were the first to resurrect after the name in a head devastated by neuroblocks. Then Mercer did not doubt the reasonableness of the attitudes, without any questions he went to his sister to help. Yet now he would have preferred a neutral position, without interfering with the personal affairs of the xenos. Not the place, not the time yet. Alex would have said nothing...
...unless the pink filly pointed to the thigh of her hind leg as if she were showing it up, showing off. Evolved blinked in surprise. He found it difficult to determine the age of the foals by eye, because the range went from eight to thirteen... Well, if we take the specimens seen earlier for the structural extremum, they seem to be too small for adolescence. Why did the "princess" shine with the thigh muscle? The foal looked like no larger and no more evolved than the objects of her with a gray friend of ridicule. Still making fun of the trio, the hooligans pulled on the song, God knows what content. The Equid language itself was very melodious, but the obvious rhymes made it possible to distinguish between ordinary speech and versification, as in the case with the zebra. The poems are unnatural... They don't look like beadles, and it's still a long way to Christmas,(4) for some reason Mercer remembered. The suspicion of the already familiar "incorrectness" of what was happening twisted his feelings to the maximum, forcing his eyes to bite into the filly, and send the stub of his left hand under a camouflage coat behind his back, where the machine gun was fixed with elastic ligaments. Having finished the song-teaser, the insolent living creatures gave out several final short rhymes, clattering their hooves and leaning their elbows against each other. With a last exclamation of joy, they threw their cereals into the air and plopped down their tiny tailed butts in a high-five manner.
If Mercer had had his lower jaw at that moment, it would have naturally dropped.
What's the bloody hell going on here, in disbelief, Alex thought feverishly. The firmware of his brain in front of such fragmentary data frankly gave up. I don't understand. To a certain extent, I don't want to understand!
The ponies didn’t show off their thighs, how are other representatives of the fair sex proud of the size of their breasts? And if so, aren't these two too small for such a small one?! What did Mercer have a rather silly thought about? be? As that supercomputer used to say: Christ, what an imagination I've got! (5) Alex thought displeased. Most of the Xenos weren't worn - well, given that wool already had enough protection from the sun, cold, and dust, that made sense. Probably. But during his spy games, Mercer never had a chance to see something that was drawn to emancipation and free morals, despite the general walking naked. And when he did stumble upon something like that for the first time, it turned out to be two foals, which were barely ten knocked offhand! The whirlwind of associations raised by the case, which did not fit into any predicted framework, made irritation splash out. Enough of me with brain-carrying, but, moreover, useless information to download, the Universe! Alex boiled, once again changing his vocal cords. Fuck off!
Mercer gave the tirade that he heard about the hooligans from the teacher - only made the sound louder and more threatening. All five foals jumped on the spot. The sleek muzzle of the crowned woman was already distorted with discontent when she realized that she was being lectured again. But the gray pony, not finding the source of the sound, was terrified. Ignoring the objections of the pink, she dragged her to the exit from the site, whispering something feverishly into her fluffy ear and fearfully looking around. While the inseparable trio were distracted by nasty things and head-spinning trying to figure out where Cherry was broadcasting from this time, Alex threw the drone into a gallop. And again the pony with the bow turned out to be more observant than her companions: she saw how the articular body and the wriggling "tail" were hiding under the twist in the grass. Now she managed to get the attention of her friends, for the foals held their breath and stared straight at the merry-go-round.
Mercer connected the wrist to the joint, habitually connecting the muscles to the main systems and securing them in the right places. Now he was motionless again, merged with the ground and looking from the side as an uneven layer of soil, which for some reason had been thrown to the base of the post. In theory, it was necessary to get away from here, since Mercer was lit up, and there was a guard nearby... But Alex just waited, not knowing what he was counting on. The foals looked at the merry-go-round with apprehension, especially the unicorn. The moisture that appeared before her eyes had already dried up, and the little one seemed to have completely forgotten about the recent offenders, at once switching her attention to a new nuisance that could happen to them. The orange and yellow ponies also stood on bent legs, ready to give a fight at any moment - but Alex saw how the scourge of all parents flared up in their eyes, irrepressible, almost suicidal curiosity.
In the end, after whispering among themselves and having come to an agreement with her friends, the "earthly" pony sideways and sideways crept up to the carousel and fished an apple out of the bag on its side. The usual kind, one of many that grew in well-tended gardens outside the city, and not an extravagant creature of the forest. Placing it carefully on the grass, she strummed with a short note-phrase - and stepped back. Friends, drilling an entertainment projectile with their eyes, on the contrary, moved closer. Alex sighed, blinking slowly: he still felt an imperfect option, which he pondered after the radio session ended. Getting in touch with xenos children... Doesn't sound like much, but in theory it makes sense. Alex had no reason to trust their teacher, but the children's minds themselves might not have been touched yet by propaganda of all stripes, if such was practiced here. What if the foals have not yet taken the boring teachings of adults seriously, which princesses are important and worthy of worship if they have outdoor games, sweets and interesting books? Having disassembled their speech and separating fables from reality, it would be possible to isolate information about the state of affairs, from first hand... to get it on the hooves.
Will they let Mercer in? At school, Alex did not notice drawings and books on space themes and flights to other worlds - which is strange for a race whose chosen representatives literally own space objects. But, even if, for some unknown reason, the cosmos is not conquered by Equids... As Alex has already found out, zoomorphs were a little like the medieval rabble, except for the dirt under the hooves of those who had never seen anything. Although they have those who consider themselves superior to others - well, without this, and in a super-technological universe, you will not manage, you see. For a demon from the depths of the underworld (if Mercer hadn't washed off the smell of marsh sulfur, this comparison would have been even more relevant), the alien in the eyes of the droopy would not have been accepted either... At worst, not in the case of these little ones - they seemed to Alex rather brave. Especially the Pegasus, who is not at all prone to girlish stereotypes in Humanner of that pair of hooligans. Well, purely a little boy, if you don't pay attention to a more gentle voice and constructive! Fuck knows how Equid society was in terms of gender roles; most of the civilians seen were females, while the royal guard consisted mostly of males. They have tut what, was there a division of the way of life according to the type of the Spartans? Greco-Roman style helmets, again...
Ah, empty. Thinking this way and that, Alex very slowly, palm up, without making raking movements, so as not to frighten off a trifle, stretched out his hand. With the tips of his claws, he symmetrically grabbed the apple and just as slowly dragged it into the shadow. The foals gurgled with joy - but they were even more delighted when Mercer returned the apple, cutting out a quarter with his claw, as befits a guest invited to the common pot.
Then Alex heard the guard moving in the school, talking slowly with the teacher he already knew. He decided not to find out what the filly would do anymore - suddenly, having suddenly changed his mind, they would turn to a representative of the authorities? Putting his knees and elbows up, Mercer, like Jack the Lantern, ran off into the thickets of bushes, jumping over the fence in one stringy jump. The foals, of course, squealed in surprise, but their voices sounded more of joyful excitement than fear. Turning his head back on the run thanks to a long neck, Mercer saw how a piggy with a lilac mane almost rushed in pursuit - only the curly one grabbed her tail with her teeth, barely restraining her friend. But, although she was the most cautious (or simply had the greatest bit of common sense among the whole trio), the white pegasus did not report. Until the guard rose into the air, quickly heading to the center of the town, the unicorn, along with the other two filly, diligently pretended that nothing had happened, and in general they were counting crows here on the site. Then, looking around, they walked away, conspiratorially exchanging glances and, in an enchanting atmosphere of secrecy (as they probably thought), discussing an unexpected meeting.
Done, Alex drew a line by following in front of them through the woods. Sometimes the truth hides from the smart, but is revealed to the simple-minded... Maybe Harper Lee was not so naive in her "Mockingbird", claiming that children are able to see what the half-closed and tired eyes of adults are not capable of. Maybe Spielberg's turtle was right when he did come into contact with children - especially of such a kind as this trinity, which does not run almost under the protection of parents. For foals, if engravings don't lie, alien races are nothing new. A stranger, albeit a creepy one, will be perceived by foals as a large dog, which must certainly be brought home, warmed and fed. And, of course, hide from angry adults who prohibit everything potentially unsafe, but so alluring with the spirit of adventure. It was not worth changing the appearance - it was just that the rough shapes of the armor plates were made more elegant, giving them the smoothness of the metal, cutting off sharp corners. It was possible to pretend not to be a wandering between the stars or the leader of alien legions, but... just a stranger from another world, without unnecessary details. There is no need to be original and invent an incarnation of anti-life, or God knows why else the local sorcerers with their archaic way of life can accept the zombie virus. The language barrier, again, will only play into the hands of the lack of details...
There was definitely something... wrong about child spying. The fact that Alex was thinking about how the foals would like it, in principle. Such a state was a novelty for Alex: to represent himself in someone else's skin, to withdraw reactions to stimuli... As if he was again conducting sabotage work at the military base, which will certainly end with a grandiose fireworks and the death of all those involved. The original Mercer was not used to getting what he wanted with psychological tricks. High social status, detachment from the world of people far from science, money, again, that by their presence they do all the work and allow them not to intersect with the stratum of the social environment, laughing at science for ornate words - all this eliminated the need to adjust oneself to others. Inborn abilities, qualities and knowledge of how the world works, gave Mercer an understanding of how the rational thought, even taking into account some of his traits of a sociopath, but still... Still, Alex was aware that being updated he was much better now I was calculating the options when it came to people, and kept these innumerable relationships in my head. Eighteen days of fighting for his own life, working as a half-educated detective and betrayal taught Mercer a lot. "Black Light" perfectly trained his new home, made him act with concentration and without the right to make mistakes, hoping that Mercer would be able to adequately perform in non-standard, extreme combat situations - just in such a way that the mutant was now trying with all his might to comprehend.
Do the children go for their own? Alex looked at the quarter of the apple, which he dragged away, holding it in the left "stub". Well, Mercer is not proud enough to refuse compromises with what seems unusual and even wild to him. What can you not do to get out of the heap of troubles; a few days ago, Zeus had to learn to fly on the "Black Hawk Down", that he was in He considered total control of the sky by warriors useless, and today, already evolved in the guise of a la Grievous, flaunts. In general, he was lucky that the color and sound perception of the xenos turned out to be, if not identical to that of a human, then similar enough to go to his own. A different universe, different rules: even though xenos would pass for higher mammals (including secondary sexual characteristics), who knows... There was nowhere to take data from the consciousness of the absorbed - the perception of some colors, spectra, again, contrast and the depths of the pony could differ from the human optimal. Another argument in the piggy bank of the strategy chosen by Mercer.
Noticing how the three foals turned onto the road leading to the apple orchards, Alex reasoned that they were heading to the old woman who had scolded him. Apparently, the farmers' daughter invited her friends to visit in order to keep secrets - there were fewer guards outside the city, which meant that there were fewer prying eyes. Although Alex still spotted a couple in the vicinity of the farm, when he broke away from the foals, every now and then they stood up for the next dispute, and ordered the drone to reconnoiter. While scanning the area, I turned the screw on the remaining helium bottle; Alex decided to assimilate the supply and process a fuel cell surrogate with it, otherwise you never know... Still, what good, his test contact will be misunderstood, the guards will fly into the cries of the rednecks, and he will have to fight seriously for his life.
Um, maybe in this regard Alex also turned up the situation, guided by the filter of perception of the original Mercer and the earth culture. These earth ponies did not shine in manners specifically - it was noticeable from them that they represented the most provincial sector, where mechanization was at least involved... but the "magic" left its mark here too. Harvests on the farm were collected, be healthy - the same apples grew as they were on the selection, ripe and liquid, as if a whole army of workers were still waxing them on the branches! Well, or Lovecraft's Color(5) ran everything here. True, it was not clear that in this situation, with such a riot of plant life on the territory of the farm, a small grove made up entirely of skeletons, in which Alex barely recognized the same apple trees, would make it. The eerie-looking plants were clumsy and generally gave the impression of being dried out a long time ago, but no one was going to cut them down. But even without a "dead" section of workers for such a territory, there were ridiculously few... is-here ". Alex's theory that Equids are fabulously rich found another confirmation - during the harvest ripening period, the main pony took it and screwed it up indefinitely, leaving the farm for a small group of close and distant relatives. Still, to deal with the land in this world was more like a hobby than a harsh necessity of the Middle Ages, when in the sweat of your brow you have to plow like a draft horse just to last one more season.
Rednecks were also wrong here - in the sense that they did not resemble the inhabitants of a certain state, for whom it was a matter of honor to urinate on the gene pool. They made the same impression as the townspeople: well-groomed, hard-working, loving to laugh, without any rabid xenos-things (except for an overly active elderly mare that could relax in a rocking chair, and already five minutes later gallop to the barn, groaning and clucking something to himself in Equid). Pony, who was now a senior, on the contrary, would pass for a model of equanimity. Alexander was only amazed when he saw the stallion playfully moving a huge barrel with something heavy; despite the bulky muscles, powerful, but without a hint of caricature of a bodybuilder, despite the reduced density of objects, it was a very impressive demonstration of the local abilities.
Yes... The locals were just toilers, such well-to-do farmers, not crazy rednecks. It is unlikely that Mercer would have been greeted here with a volley from a double-barreled - not only because Alex in principle did not see a firearm in this world, plus the same big man could crush bones to dust to someone else with his bare hooves, but also because of the pony's peaceful disposition... However, Alexander preferred to still be buried from the eyes of the uninitiated. Having discovered a classic tree house in the vicinity of the farm, Alex decided that the building was the clubhouse of the trinity, whom he knew in absentia, and hardly anyone would look there besides them. Evolved into a club house and climbed, sending a drone in auto mode, to place sensors on the periphery of a huge apple tree. Not a bad place to hide, actually: the branches formed a green canopy that effectively limited the view of the pegasus. To the attic and even higher, into the crown of a tree, one could climb rather narrow ladders. Inside the house was the even coolness of a room in the shade. Where-then there was a barely audible buzz, suggesting an old lamp - but it could be bees or insects that are unique to this world. There were several tubs with unpretentious plants, a map of the city with many notes and posters hung on the wall, including an azure pony that almost flew into Mercer - her color scheme was difficult not to recognize. Was the express train an example for the young people here? Well, well... Also in the corner of the room there was a lectern just for the height of little ponies, writing materials, stacks of magazines, a small amount of furniture and poufs for sitting. Having rummaged among the things and not finding anything interesting, Alex left a wedge of apple on the steps to hint at his presence and not to scare the small fry. Slowly, assessing the stability of the alien wood against its weight, he climbed to the second floor. There he slowly sifted through old drawings and books, until he noticed the approaching filly. Then the brush returned and, immediately attracting the pony's attention, climbed into the attic window.
Now, having introduced himself and found a point of mutual understanding, Alex could take a closer look at all three, learn the foals' habits, without huddling under the merry-go-round in three deaths. But he still hunched over so as not to support the ceiling with the top of his head in a sitting position - he bent his neck, throwing his cut head forward and lowering it below the level of the collarbones. The point of view was unusual, but, at least, he did not seem now unknown giant for foals, evolved barely reaching the middle of the thigh of his old legs. Alex did not experiment and reproduce the missing facial muscles, because he still did not know the exact construct of the pony's faces. He will make some more face that will be regarded as anger or a threat... It is better for the time being to keep the monotonous expression of a "mask" with indicators-ears and a single eye, than to clear out the consequences of the Evil Valley later. It is curious, but what would be the reaction of the small ones to the usual horse's face, and do they have more primitive relatives here along the branch of the family? It was worth clarifying...
The red-haired filly, who greeted Mercer without hesitation, grabbed his finger with her teeth and pulled him to the first floor, as it turned out, to an impromptu lecture. The flyer stood at the pulpit and hummed something very solemnly, showing Human a cloak with an embroidered foal silhouette. She circled the space inside the house with her leg and... very demonstratively, downright demonstratively in relation to Mercer, poked her thigh. The yellow pony happily drummed its hooves on the floor, the white one gave an allusion to the applause, sitting on the croup - Alex was almost covered with a wave of flashbacks from the playground. Noticing that the stranger was staring at the pegasus, eyes wide open and apparently not realizing, she frowned, but repeated the same sequence of actions and expressions. The filly kept churning selflessly, not paying attention to the unicorn who was trying to stop her, and Mercer barely escaped from strain, trying with his mind to figure out what the foals were trying to say and what had their flanks got to do with it. parts. The fact that they had an ordinary school-age girl's club here was understandable: posters with a Glass Cutter, paper, coloring, embroidery, crayons, and other children's belongings like a small piano were available in full. But what united the filly was something that was new to man, something exactly that was alien, if Alex understood correctly. Talent? Purpose? With the current vocabulary, it was difficult for Alex to understand; The intonation of the words with which the pegasus denoted the whole trinity was... more souled, or what?
Finally, together, the two friends quieted down the flyer who had gotten used to it. While the pony with a bow was holding back, clasping across the body and covering her mouth with her hoof, an information terrorist (she was still trying to add something, indignantly puffing and chirping her wings), the unicorn stepped in. She, like a redhead ten minutes earlier, took a sheet of paper and began to draw on it with a pencil, working with surprising dexterity with her teeth. Then she approached Alex, slightly apart her front legs and lowered her picture-explanation to the floor in front of him. The curly-haired filly’s gaze expressed something between interest and slight apprehension - she still did not trust Alex enough to fearlessly approach him closely.
Chuckling to himself, Mercer looked at the drawing, hoping to finally find out what the little ponies had been trying to explain to him all this time. Schematic representation of groups of all types of ponies, except pied horns. Both adults and smaller children had some kind of... symbols in the area of the fifth point, of various types and shapes. A bee hive, a soccer ball, a crystal, a note - the unicorn did a good job, because not a single pair of identical icons was, and they were drawn with all (for a child of primary school age) thoroughness. To the side of the general mass stood three equally schematic foals, enclosed in a circle, but they did not see the symbols on their sides... It was not difficult to notice that his new acquaintances served as prototypes of the drawn ponies. Unicorn even for a particularly dull stranger next to the tree-club trio, in which Mercer is now located, she sketched.
Evolved looked at the artist skeptically, then turned his gaze to the wall, where sheets of paper were hung with all the same symbols in all their variety. Many were crossed out, and Alex, suppressing the urge to scratch his bare skull in puzzlement, stared back at the white pony. "Signs", obviously, were of great importance for their company... What did they symbolize by themselves - a profession, a life vocation, with which the girls had not yet decided? But why, then, the little sorceress portrayed the other foals as if they had already acquired a profession, and not at school, let's say? And damn it, what does the asshole have to do with it, someone will already explain to him?! Wanting to clarify, with a beckoning motion, Alex demanded a pencil, which the unicorn easily pushed towards him with magic. With the tips of his claws, Mercer neatly grabbed a small writing utensil for the size of cat horses, and casually sketched an apple. Thinking that the "earthly" pony was most drawn to the farmers' daughter by color, he beckoned her to him, to which the filly reacted willingly: she was not afraid of Mercer almost as much as the purple-headed daredevil. The mutant has already applied his creation to the side of the pony, without touching its fur (offering prayers to all gods in a row so that this innocent action does not go to the natives for harassment). Looked interrogatively at the unicorn - did you mean that? Does your friend want to continue the family business? The white one nodded happily - and the yellow one was completely excited, constantly chirping in her own language and almost lovingly looking at Alex's very nasty drawing. Who knew that Equid kids could draw better with their mouths than a mature man under thirty with a full (almost) set of fine motor limbs... Mercer was about to draw his next picture question, but the pony with a bow suddenly stretched out her hoof and moved it hand, so that the drawing was exactly on her thigh. Looking at Alex, she gave out a short trill of an affirmative character and smiled cheerfully.
Anxiety gripped Mercer. The apple... It was... not just a symbol that is figuratively attached to a particular pony. Now Alex understood that these signs were something more material for the filly, something for which a specific place had been allocated, the thigh of the hind leg. The little ones were eager to receive "signs", perhaps not to be different from the rest of the ponies. But in the eyes of Mercer, they did not differ from adults or their peers in any way! In eyes...
Unless Dr. Mercer doesn’t see these signs. He doesn't see something that the three think he should have. Could it be that human perception still differed from the point of view of the Equids in some of its components? Not just colors, spectra... but whole pictures? Mercer reflexively lowered his head, looking at his hip - the children were staring at the same with interest, but no intelligible reaction followed from them. Alex, turning the sheet over, erased all the symbols on the pony images that the unicorn depicted with an eraser. Turning the drawing to the girls, he pointed first to himself, then to the empty sides of adult ponies-abstractions. Alex played a note of negation, and then immediately pronounced a combination of sounds in Equid for "vision." He shook his head and shrugged to be sure.
It seems that he made the foals understand him: the whole trio looked at him incredulously and with confusion in their eyes. Maybe they decided that Mercer had real vision problems, for the yellow pony brought her face close to the mask and, squinting, began to look at Alex's eyes. At her command, the pegasus dragged a first-aid kit with the usual red cross from behind the cabinet and began to busily gut its contents, in the process managing to get entangled in bandages and almost knocking over something that looked like a bottle of peroxide. Suppressing laughter (for a miracle in feathers, which must have often climbed into a box for plasters, looked extremely comical with gauze hanging from his nose), Alex calmed the little one. Not in the most suitable way, however - he, having decided to finally test his theory, reproduced the drawing of his jacket on the thigh, where the muscles were wrapped around the bones and covered with an elastic protective layer, which passed into the armor on the sides. I didn't even have time to inquire about anything - but I already understood what mistake I had made. The filly's eyes lit up with an almost fanatical brilliance, and they vied with each other to demand from Mercer, no doubt, the same thing that he had done for himself. With great difficulty, switching to active gestures, drawing a dozen images and occasionally inserting separate familiar words, the evolved one convinced them that this was just a stupid picture, an imitation, a disguise that was no more significant than the hat you were wearing. At the same time, I made sure that for the ponies these symbols were really important, because the foals decidedly did not want to just paint the marks. The kids were looking down - but when they saw that Mercer spoke began to cough again, and a joyful cry of unknown persuasion was emitted in chorus. Putting their mouths together in fright and looking out the door just in case, they with triple zeal began to persuade Alex to treatment, which included pouring into him all the fluids that were found in the first-aid kit. They also wanted to bandage the stump, mistaking his hand as damaged... Mercer, of course, opposed this. But he quickly managed to switch the attention of persistent filly: it was enough to show that the newcomer was interested in the new world around him... And books, yes, all sorts of books that the pony would have the knack to bring to Mercer. And help him with his studies, of course. Well, how can you refuse the honor of helping an alien guest take the first timid steps in the land of Equids? The unicorn and the earth arranged a short council between themselves and, without thinking twice, splashed in different directions, leaving the overseer with the distinguished guest.
While the yellow and white ponies were away, Alex felt himself fully as a swindler-simpleton who decided to make a living by kidnapping children, from the story of the unforgettable Henry. Pegasus bombarded Mercer with a bunch of questions, the meaning of which was solved at most in two and a half - and those were in the spirit of "Are your alien oranges round too?!" As if this were not enough, the redhead constantly strove to be closer to Mercer, to put her hooves on his knees and look straight into his face, which made Alexander feel awkward. When the curious foal, completely brave, climbed to the alien device that Mercer's left arm was crowned with, he had to pull it back. The machine gun was on the safety lock, but also an unloaded gun, as they say... The Evolved sternly muttered, pulling aside the hoof with which the pegasus had already reached for the box and the trigger guard: No. You can't. Denial is a puppet. Then the machine gun was completely discharged, and together with it, the tape was sent to the second floor and the stairs leading there were removed, and at last he threatened the foal with a finger. It is unlikely that here Mercer could need a weapon this very second, so it was better to take it out of harm's way. From the raking paws of children, to be more precise.
Wings of misery was indignant with such arbitrariness, of course, she even showed her tongue to Mercer. But she didn't manage to sulk for a long time - a mutant from another world looked too interesting for a pegasus, attracting attention. She returned to trying to establish live communication with the alien. Although she did not succeed in completely annoying Alex, who sailed into the jungle of her own thoughts, generated by the surrealism of what was happening. Mercer was a genetic engineer... he imagined himself to be a serious man with no less serious problems in his life, and not some kind of nanny, but even he found it difficult not to admit that the local children were still pretty. Look at the living creatures that naive eyes opened at you, wrinkling her nose with displeasure, and lips that do not exist on their own begin to disperse in a grin... What a combat bundle of feathers and fluff! It was recalled that the increased concentration of lithium, which was the basis of local life forms, had a beneficial effect on the stability of the psyche, studies were carried out in the same Texas... True, only inside, in the composition of an aqueous solution, and not on the fact of being near a person.
Despite the fact that the little one brought Alex into a semblance of good mood, Human kept up the conversation reluctantly, fearing to attract attention from someone who could bypass the perimeter of his alarm system unnoticed. When he answered, then in monosyllables, copying the speech of the Pegasus, most often reporting that she did not understand what she said, but sometimes agreeing or refuting. While the court and business, with the help of pictures asked to name all the objects in the room, and then began to memorize, for the sake of fidelity, repeating aloud after the Pegasus. Mercer no longer squeaked, because he used up the helium reserve and removed the empty cylinder to the second floor: after two entries into the radioactive zone, his fuel charge was depleted, and it was necessary to make up for the shortage. With longer sentences, Mercer gave up speaking until the wisdom of the local language was taught by someone more sophisticated and less hyperactive - a white pony, for example. Without copying other people's phrases and sound constructions, taking as an example only the logic that the virus managed to concoct on the basis of dispersed data, Alex said as an online translator - disgusting, often distorting the meaning. To the little songstress, he probably seemed to be a real broken toy, which as a speaker wheezes, croaks, or squeals and grunts. Judging by the way the foal frowned at Alex's attempts, the bear, from the point of view of the locals, not only stepped on his ear, but also danced a step there. But just to reproduce the voice of the redhead and associate it with the designated object, the evolved one turned out great, yes. Then, when two volunteers returned and began to study Alex more thoroughly, he began to slowly learn the meaning, which individual notes carried in themselves...
What could Alexander say after one and a half to two hours of intensive assimilation of information? The fact that the etymology in the language of tetrapods was - brains scrapped do you! The same names of the Seekers-designation were a mystery to Mercer. Of course, even at the first meeting, they introduced themselves to the alien guest, poking themselves into fluffy breasts, but since it turned out to be too tricky, unusually musical for the human mindset, Alex mentally designated the foals in his own manner, Rustle, Marshmally and Shu (for a change)... When Mercer decomposed their Equid names into their constituents, he began to come out at all some kind of nonsense. Well, how, tell me, can you take seriously someone called "Delights-rings"? Although, if you take a literary translation, the name for a white unicorn would be very suitable... And the truth is, her voice was the most gentle among the whole trio, melodious, like a silver bell. The problem, obviously, was that Mercer took their names literally - for ponies, certain combinations of word-notes had long lost their meaning, turning into labels with a certain emotional color. The name of Mercer, after all, also once meant not just a person, but the concept of "protector of people"... Sinister irony, given that Alex was protected only by a couple of people, and the rest, who had stupidity to stand in his way, was not reckoning with the means.
With the Equids' writing, also built on principles that are not similar to any other language, things were even better - the evolved one mastered the same base, a kind of set of hieroglyphs for tolerably reading a newspaper from the Japanese. It’s bad, of course, that Alex perceived the squiggles of the four-legged as an outlandish mosaic crossed with Morse code, but in the end he learned to distinguish between individual constructions, and then to isolate the general meaning, systematizing and supplementing the missing information, as his body, which was blown to pieces by the brain, restored. Praise the viral neuromachineering that is firmly entrenched in Mercer's cranium! As soon as the factor of emotional color, so important in the speech of Equids, was removed, and the usual sequences of symbols were given, the logic of the machines began to work at full speed. To hell with systems theory - with a leap of organization on the collected data, this onboard AI solved the problem in the same way that it took care of the basic movement skills of Mercer, completely after the "death" of not familiar with the updated body. In more complex books, the context should have become important when translating, well, the evolved one should not get used to leaving the easiest and most seductive ways as untrustworthy. To the devil, information specially prepared for contact by concepts - Mercer himself will search, separating the wheat from the chaff. And where his imagination and eyes fail, as in the case of talent marks, the language of pictures will come to the rescue. Alex once again looked thoughtfully at the childish scribble on the wall. Aborigines had schematic, figurative thinking, and this opened up a huge field of activity for Mercer. Another world, another universe, crazy rules - but the laws of logic were applied here, which indescribably pleased Human. His "teachers", in turn, were pleased with the achievements of the student, who had to say only once to memorize, and not all 300. Judging by the conversations, the filly, against the background of their successes, seriously thought about the career of teachers, although only recently they were seriously going to become "Alien Doctors". Not ADHD, but they did go from one extreme to another very easily. It was possible to understand them: what they had not tried so that they could get these... mental labels, or what else the invisible devilry was.
Alex has also improved his verbal communication skills. It is enough to express yourself in a broken way and, moreover, not to ruin the delicate ears of the pony, asking clarifying questions. And there were a lot of them: the white unicorn brought not only the alphabet and other "tutorials" from the section of children's literature (it is unlikely that the librarian began to pry out why the schoolgirls needed these primitive albums. that only half of the town will burn this time). Marshmally in all seriousness got hold of a book of household and sewing magic, hoping to teach a stranger "witchcraft"! Well, or at least to acquaint with the basics, because the unicorn herself was not yet a specialist in this matter, her telekinesis was very weak.
Naturally, the workbook for housewives is not a "magic physics course for the highly advanced", but Mercer is somewhat more complicated and would not have been able to figure it out. With the explanations of the girls, he not only evolved some theory about how spells work, but also transferred their effect into his familiar phenomena, the concepts of the world of people. So, Alex realized that telekinesis was not just a sequential movement of an object in three-dimensional space, but two spells combined in one. This was, first of all, holding the zero weight spell, and then directly moving, applying force. That is why Marshmallow, with a sin in half capable of lifting light objects for a short time, could not even move a finger on Alex's hand, referring to "too much, too heavy". The evolved one felt a weak field pressure, but not so much that the finger's own weight yielded to him, even completely relaxing the flexor-extensor muscles. The first component had exactly that" internal "effect... on cellular structures, on molecules, quantum quantities in general. Just as some mechanisms of the pony's talents were not imprinted in Alex's brain, so their spells of this kind did not work on him, imprisoned for the matter of his native dimension. While all four interactions, the same gravitational field, worked on Mercer; "external" effects, just as the aircraft steel from the Black Hawk calmly preserved its properties in this world, and electrons continued their continuous run in his brain.
The unicorn added, panting, that telekinesis requires constant concentration, and Mercer is also very heavy... there is a reserve. Controlling the aura in real time, which worked as a capture grid and used the same energy-intensive barrier principle, was much more difficult. Damn it, Marshmallow claimed that she almost had a sewing scissors spell - because it was highly specialized, clearly spelled out and required very little effort, while creating two full-length barrier strips that cut the fabric! But at the same time, she could not literally do the same with pure telekinesis, or tear the fabric by pulling on both ends! More and more miraculous and miraculous this world seemed, although not devoid of its own non-obvious logic. You can also drive a peg into the ground with a couple of strong hammer blows - or you can try to screw it into the ground with your bare hands for a long time, exhausted, although both are the work of familiar human hands...
The most interesting thing was that the obstacle was not the cloud of ionized gas itself, which was intangible and freely swirled around the object to which telekinesis was applied. The luminous facets distinguished by Alex were only a consequence... The foals generally asserted: adults taught them that by its nature this light is related to what is "in them"! And "on them" - therefore, in case of exhaustion or some other magical trouble, the ponies could naturally fade, which, according to the trinity, happened to their acquaintances after meeting the "Incompatible". The color of their fur, eyes and other parts of the body literally was not due to pigmentation, in the general case, the same spectrum was determined as the "magic" of the owner! Marshm’s aura looked green, which differed from her fur and curly mane, but this green was light pastel shades, did not stand out from the general color range and harmoniously complemented the iris of large eyes. Such concepts, which were different from everything that Alex knew, almost made Human give up the assimilation of one class of data halfway and go headlong into a medical reference book. And where did the little ponies get it? And, anyway, maybe they were going to become doctors, but they abandoned it...
So, the glow that Alex discerned that enveloped the telekinesis subject was not an impenetrable bubble like a barrier that could block the path of microscopic particles like a cloud of virions. But it functioned according to similar principles - it was based on the tangible manifestation of the quantum world. If Mercer understood correctly, in its pure form the barrier was a local initiation of the Planckian prohibition: reality in a given plane simply became solid, although there was no solid object there. Hoof kinesis functioned on a completely different principle, the same for all three races of ponies - it was completely invisible, but still influenced Mercer. Another surprise seized the evolved one when he realized that Shu was pulling his hand, drawing attention to himself, just putting his hoof! Perhaps a narrowly directed distortion of gravity, a kind of natural magnetism... It is difficult to believe in the existence of something that you cannot see and for which there are no generally accepted models, devices that would allow you to detect the reflection of these indistinguishable things in the material world! But in this dimension, there were absolutely other quantities that influenced at a much lower level than a human is able to perceive - but they could be noticed due to the same ionization of the air. Be that as it may, Mercer felt relieved: he did not go crazy when the filly began to convince him of the existence of marks, which for the evolved did not exist.
One thing pleases, man thought, that they have these "marks" on the sirloin parts, and not, let's say... on the forehead. Otherwise, if I went out to the guards at the turntable... Ha, it would have been a fiasco even more shameful than the CIA screwed up with Ames. (6)
The trinity of ponies, on the contrary, were head over heels happy just because they now have a friend who is not only empty-sided himself, but also other ponies from the "Markers" in this regard. e is different. Alex didn’t want to think that children were just another means to an end for him. Having so easily accepted the alien giant into their company, treated him completely unjustifiably, they did not deserve all those plans that Mercer had in his head "as a last resort", hoping that if desired, the pony could be easily manipulated. Ultimately, in Alex's opinion, lying was an ungrateful affair, the lot of the weak, unable to influence their fate otherwise, even if you call it differently, the same "advanced user interface" or "politics". Mercer did not like to lie for the same reason that he happily forgot his offenders, leaving only a hidden dislike for all kinds of brethers - by deed he got out into people, by diligence and his own skill, and not by idleness. The truth for Alex, a man whose profession in her eternal search was indicated, was not an empty phrase, and too long suppression of it began to torment Human. He even gave out to his sister, unable to resist, the shocking information that the killed to some extent continue to live inside him. He was not even going to figure out what kind of reaction this would cause, and whether Dana would refuse to help him since then!
But now, when his survival could depend on a well-constructed lie... Now Mercer needed to determine the line of behavior in case he could manage to make peace with the representatives of the local nobility. Can wing-horns recognize lies? What in general will do Alex more for this hour, true or false? To imagine that he is so unique in the human race (which is true, because Green and the Runners were creatures of a completely different kind, not to mention the standard representatives of homo ss) - will inevitably raise the questions of the queens "why so?" and sound fears, because experimental models are accompanied by a bunch of side-by-side surprises, often unsafe. Well, if the sorcerers understand that humanity is practically defenseless, then they will be able to invade the Earth, planting their vision of "friendly-relationship-and-magical-arts." And if you pretend that people are more powerful than they really are, that they are all like Zeus, to whom it is much more difficult to do evil in any of its manifestations? If you get carried away with inventions, the archiwizards may notice contradictions; Mercer will make a mistake in his improvisation, sooner or later he will stumble, inventing the details of the social system among supermen. Alex can create a model, develop a theory, but without amendments, which is given by the great assistant of the scientist, Practice, a man will certainly miss the details... Ponies have been living in a society of superpowers for, probably, more than one thousand years, they can immediately spot the shortcomings of his theory... And if these creatures are really so open and friendly, then they will not like how Mercer immediately begins to lie with inspiration, without blushing, for no particular reason. Keeping silent is also not an option - it means that a guest from another world has something unpleasant and threatening to hide...
Alex sighed, pulling up a book from the tattered pile Shu had brought him. Wherever you throw it, there is a wedge everywhere... So now Mercer is weak, since he is going to put on masks and images again? Well, if you follow the philosophy of his original, he really was stronger when he was an ordinary person. Not in an absolute, but an equalizing sense, for Alexander was simply not paid attention to by forces with which one would not otherwise reach. And now, in this regard, he was also not in the most advantageous position. Shining-brightest... Shining. Celestial. Celestia - yes, that was the best way to interpret her name from Equid, - to fight her seemed a hopeless affair, just like competing with the awakened Vesuvius. The forces are incomparable; lava will continue its advance, burning everything in its path, no matter what you do. You can only run away, hoping that you will be in time faster than the eruption reaches its peak and kills everything around with poisonous gases, burying in addition under a layer of ash and hot stones. With the hurricane, wherever it went, maybe Alex would have competed: simply by starving, clinging to something stronger, waiting until the riot of nature subsides. But to fight with all the power of the sun... No. The devil knows whether Princess Celestia was his personification only in the culture of the aborigines, or in fact, too, but for some reason it did not smile at provoking the anger of the four-legged monarch and on her own skin of her ability to test Mercer.
Although, maybe Alex won't need any special super-tricks in the field of diplomacy. The creations of the alicorns (by the name of the source of their magical powers) were exceptionally ancient, if the foals are to be believed, however... The conflict between the gold-bearing mare and her sister happened a thousand and two years ago, but they did not resemble a thousand-year-old creature in human understanding - with the same the Raimon Fosca(7) showed no even the slightest resemblance. Hardly anyone could call these clear eyes that of the vile old women tired of life; based on the one he saw actions and demeanor, Alex would have given twins twenty or thirty years, no more, by psychological age. Ordinary ponies, kind and empathetic, about which the foals spoke with great trepidation and respect, but without the excessive deference and fear that adults could instill in them. The Luna, according to the young ponies, not even in the capital, but in a provincial town, personally led the carnival terrorizing neighbors for sweets (how long will this world make Alex feel uncomfortable with parallels of all stripes?). The elder sorceress did not shy away from indulging in this little happiness every day. Marshmally showed Alex a faded binder of a newspaper, on one of the pages of which Celestia, with a thieving look around, was devouring a cake! What are the notional incarnations of the Kubrick monoliths, unknown and incomprehensible... Who knows if all this was not masks? In a personal meeting, Alex can also notice what has long become habitual for ponies, recognize cheating and cunning deception. In the meantime, there was simply not enough data. Look, the foals argued that the alicorns really manipulated the Luna and the sun - but they were clearly not space objects familiar to the 21st century man, for "they saturate day and night creatures with power." Well, okay. Mercer will force them to take the first step, look at the line of behavior of the alicorns when they meet, then he will dance from her. Alex got hold of even b o more data than he hoped for. Thought the Equid children would make him difficult, but the foals were very easy to get along with. And yet, alicorns may have been a level higher than children's ideas about them. I had to prepare a little more, take into account something...
Yes... What can he say, the friendliness of the locals was amazing. The little mares showed interest in Mercer not just as a living toy, but as a playmate, although they knew him at most for several hours. Alex understood this from their conversations: the ponies were already discussing with might and main who it was worth introducing the two-legged to in the first place and where to bring them, whether he would become the ambassador of other strangers at Celestia's court, and whether the overly cautious Rare would not mind if her sister was genuine the newcomer will lead friendship. It is unlikely that in the understanding of the trio, Alex was the same cub, given the size - rather, an eccentric adult who, for some reason, does not know anything about their world and does not mind sitting with the little ones and listening to their stories. But Mercer didn't pull a full-fledged pony either - maybe that's why the foals treated him so easily, not counting him as a part of society, in front of which you need to perform some obligatory rituals. Or, in their eyes, he was still something like a pony, who is easy to trust, only looking different - a kind of bewitching anomaly, like the "thin man" Botet(8) for other people? Maybe. One of them was trying to observe rituals and conventions as if... Looking at how the ponks ate flower-berry sandwiches, Alex only grinned. While her winged and "earthly" friends were eating so that it cracked behind her ears, the unicorn ate neatly, biting off small pieces and from time to time cleaning the fur around her mouth with a napkin. She glanced sideways at Mercer, as if fearing that the tall guest in every sense would be disappointed with her manners - it was felt that the mentioned Marshmallow’s sister was training in this regard. Well, purely little lady, Alex cheered up in his thoughts. Not like that pink coquette, but kind-hearted and gentle, even though it fell out of the image of a unicorn once or twice, at the slightest provocation becoming an ordinary restless child. She had suggested even earlier to run home in order to treat the newcomer to oat pancakes with cinnamon and apple jam, which should have been left over from breakfast. If Alex had taken the local chemistry as it should, he, in a good-natured mood, would certainly have played along by answering: "You shouldn't, my lady, I'm ready to be satisfied with a sip of water and a bar of soap." Only then would I say to see the reaction of the foals. But what is true is true, salts of higher fatty acids have indeed proven to be a good alternative source of energy.
He had to explain to the filly in simple words that the local complex organic matter, if it takes any action on a stranger, is the most negative. There was nothing to treat the pony, in turn, so that the biscuits from the emergency packaging, which Alex got hold of during the final raid for electronics, Human grinded off himself, just for the sake of company. He warned me about a trifle, so that they would not quietly think of something that seemed edible to carry or to pick up random crumbs. From Alex's supplies, if not fatalities from severe food poisoning would have covered, then gastric lavage was definitely guaranteed... It's like eating dirt. He warned him, but all the same, he needed an eye and an eye behind the ponies: as soon as Mercer turned the bottom of the military canned food, so that the chemical underneath would warm the contents, Rustle immediately thrust her muzzle under his arm. She was very curious about what this alien was in the gloomy tin is piling up. Alex, while glancing at the biology textbook, absentmindedly patted her head, ruffling his mane with knobby fingers - but immediately pulled himself up. I thought the foal would get scared, bounce off the evolved one, which so easily touched her, forgetting that this was not a pet animal... Pegasus froze, as if listening to her feelings. Then the redhead simply jumped into his lap and, stomping, sprawled in the middle of Mercer's skinny legs, as in a nest, dropping her chin on the fleshy thigh. She thrust herself into her personal space assertively, without the slightest embarrassment; She raised her eyes inquiringly at Alex - why did he stop? Go on!
Now it's time for Human to scare. Mercer barely resisted the urge to fly up to the ceiling, like a frightened cat - otherwise the small fry would fit into the wall, raise a cry, and the trust in the "new friend" was seriously undermined. After a little reflection and correlating his gesture with the programs of behavior of the aborigines, the evolved one realized that nothing critical on his part was allowed. A couple of times he saw adult ponies patting foals on the back of the neck in the same patronizingly friendly way, and they took it for granted, the usual parental caress. True, none of those seen on the continuation insisted... Was it really in the constructive of the distal part of the Mercer? The touch of their hooves felt different thanks to gravikinesis, but they were familiar with the concept; for the ponies, tactile contact was something much less intimate due to the limited gestures, apparently. Rich facial expressions and the position of the ears are still not enough. For pink and gray cereals, colliding was exactly the same as giving five, a harmless gesture, this was Mercer in his head invented... anything.
The friends looked at Rustle with wide eyes - impatience was clearly beginning to appear in the Pegasus’ eyes, and Mercer decided. What a wigged wonder, he chuckled to himself. Under other circumstances, it would have been suspicious that the self-preservation instinct of the redhead was completely absent, but it must have been no fake. The ponies were trusting not only of the royals, but in general to everything that did not look particularly gloomy and demonstrated the friendliness of intentions - they spurted to the sides from the falling helicopter, only their tails dangled in the wind. Raising his hand unhurriedly, Alex mentally designated the "friendliness zones" tested by espionage: the back of the head, the upper part of the forehead, the cheeks, the part of the temporal ridge behind the ears, the scruff of the neck. Everything else is an unsafe field of activity and, most likely, fraught with cultural consequences. Spreading his fingers apart, Alex gently scratched the filly’s head, imitating the touch of an ordinary human hand - with the tips of rounded claws and only during the first contact with ordinary skin pads without the rigidity of the chitinous cover.
The first time he did it consciously, listening to his own feelings, Mercer ruled that the ponies were definitely not plush toys. The difference in terms of perception was probably the same as between human hair and that of more primitive hominids. Well, not that Mercer had experience in this regard - he never touched an ordinary horse in his life. But Alex was sure that the little pony's skin was not at all like the pile of the unreasonable. It's like a fur satin covered Rustle's skin, just like a delicate child's fluff. Humane, even though it was a tousled whirlwind, was amazing for the quality of the hair that flowed between the fingers one to one. Alex blinked slowly, like a huge, bony owl, and pulled the ear plates into a "neutral" position. He liked the feeling of stroking a warm live marshmallow. The mess and did softly melt under the touches of the evolved. Her small wings, so neatly pressed against the fluffy barrels, hung down relaxedly - only from time to time the flyer slowly folded and spread them again, like a cat trampling its owner with pleasure. Were all ponies affectionate and sociable to the extreme, that's your imprint? The red-haired friends were definitely - realizing from the satisfied chirping that the newcomer was so free to arrange a head massage, they began to drill Alex with touchingly pleading glances. Human just shrugged his shoulders and stuck his eyes back into the book, turning the page with the tip of his tongue. He had only one normal hand, so those who wanted to become "full-fledged contactors" had no choice but to wait their turn.
It was a completely new experience in the madness that has circled around Mercer for the past forty-eight-plus hours. Could he so easily sit with children on Earth and stroke their heads? No , definitely not. In his native States, doing this with an unfamiliar child would be akin to suicide, and Mercer had no acquaintances who would approve of such an attitude towards their children. As well as in general acquaintances with children, to tell the truth. This means that the same directives of perception on anthropomorphism were guilty of the fact that Alex was quite easy with the redhead on his knees humbled? It is easy to stroke someone who looks partly like the usual four-legged satellites, and who asks for the arm himself... In general, Mercer did not like domestic animals - in the sense that he could not help but recognize the usefulness of many of them, but for the fun of keeping those same dogs in his apartment "Renalia" would not. Dr. Mercer decidedly did not see anything so touching in the animal's attachment to the owner, given that it was based not on the merit of the owner himself, but on millennia of selection by behavior, ordinary instincts. It's like having a demanding car that follows orders in a slightly more creative way. If Alex understood anything about the concept of "love", it is that its basis is more of a chance, based on a sample of starting values, the basis, rather than a natural outcome of a certain sequence of actions... At least that's how it happened with Karen. More by inertia, by itself. But if not sympathy for cat-canine habits was the basis of Mercer's friendly attitude towards filly, then what? Alex hoped that it was not a tendency to dominate, a desire to feel his own superiority, for in the caress of another intelligent was definitely something patronizing from his anthro-point of view.
“It's all about strange...” Alex croaked in his native language, but with these thoughts he jumped off quite easily. Ponka, who was basking on his thigh muscles and grumbled something approving under his breath, would have just passed for a visual aid. Occasionally the "manual" opened one eye, when Mercer, with a stub of his hand, stuck a textbook under his nose, asking a question about the meaning of local squiggles, and in a sleepy voice clarified what she knew. It seemed that a little more, and old Salvador could write with a purple-headed molten time... The unicorn and the earth pony jokingly fought for the right to be next, with screeching rolling on the floor and throwing puffs at each other. Studying the anatomical drawing of the Pegasus in the textbook, Alex watched out of the corner of his eye the faint tension of the muscles that set the little foal's wings in motion as she folded them in a gesture of contentment. The evolved would still have time to outline all these cultural oddities, not to haste - now it was just possible to assimilate fragmentary data about equids.
There was something to think about. Rustle, for example, seemed quite light, weighing almost nothing for a creature of this size - not only was the density of matter almost twice as low as usual, but also a different structure of bones. But besides, her tissues were no less durable than those of creatures based on terrestrial dihydrogen monoxide, and the impulse of the same Glass Cutter (judging by the stories about the achievements of the mentor, about whom Rustle willingly told Alex), be healthy - such a gust of wind cannot be blown away. Rather, she herself will rip your flesh from the bones, just flying by; even if the redhead embellished the abilities of the best Pegasus for the sake of words, the possibility of the existence of organics capable of moving at supersonic speeds and without any problems experiencing huge overloads was very impressive. Mercer himself has been doing things for the last twenty days that ordinary people never dreamed of in their lives, but still... You can't really fly in such an atmosphere - the wings of pegasus, probably, only served for maneuvering.
Human, shooting an eye to the sides, exhaled an imperceptible cloud of virions onto Rustle's back. They could not penetrate into the cells and read the gene code in this world, but they carried out the bearing of three-dimensional space, such information dust is much less dispersed. Trapped in a small amount of sweat, in its watery base and clogged in the pores, the virions formed a model relative to each other, and Mercer now felt the tension of the skin, the pony muscles flowing under it, setting the skeletal base in motion. Curious, man suddenly thought. Is there an analogue of a cherub in the culture of a pony, given that intelligent ones with wings already exist in their world?
But no, the creature was not drawn to the four-legged angel, although the analogy suggested itself. The differences were too great - not just a genetic chimera, composed mostly of an "earthly" pony, to which an unknown joker had welded its wings. Such a concept would have a right to exist, given that the wings of the Pegasus did not provide adequate lift. And yet Rustle did not fall into the same category as Mercer's hands - koi, mutating and changing their fundamental structure, remained part of the body solely due to the placental connection. If you hadn’t felt Mercer with your mind, I wouldn’t have believed it, despite even a good description in the textbook, however... Yes, the wings of a pegasus, even such a young one, were an amazing constructional highlight. It is not enough to attach them for maneuverability, you need to correlate with the aerodynamics of the rest of the body, arrange the necessary drives in the muscles of the back. Just think about it! A mammal with sets of limbs for two fundamentally different purposes is not your legs, which have been retrained from grasping and supporting distilize in a clean support for bipedal locomotion! Alex was going to make more detailed models in the future, but he already had a growing suspicion that pegasus are the most "natural" creatures that appeared as a result of evolution... Although, like the "Black Light", this evolution could be deprived of a long a series of trials, mistakes and any rudiments - generations went to a predetermined goal, more and more ideally adjusting their body to a certain pattern of flight and control of atmospheric phenomena. With unicorns it was not clear - in the chapter of the textbook devoted to their characteristics, there were quite specific words, the meaning of which the foals from the junior class could not explain to Mercer. With the earthly, on the contrary, everything was relatively simple. On average, a more powerful locomotor apparatus, as well as a predisposition to alchemy and everything that is associated with abstract "life", like healers...
Speaking of the representatives of these two subspecies, they finally managed to come to an agreement among themselves. The yellow filly, realizing that her friend is still a little wary of the newcomer, and fights for the right to be next by inertia, out of sheer prank, yielded with a giggle. The unicorn's eyes flickered. She clearly did not expect to overcome the stronger earth pony, and hesitantly began to mutter something in her defense. Bursting with laughter, Shu almost forcefully pushed her friend to Alex, and he, with a hoarse sigh, lightly slapped Rustle on the top of his head, capturing her attention. It was possible, since the tactile effect was so much to their taste, and to caress the remaining two - it cost nothing to Mercer to repay the foals with such a trifle for sincere kindness. To be honest, the process itself gave him some satisfaction.
Pegasus hardly understood Alex's gesture as he tapped the dial of an imaginary watch on his wrist with the tip of his tongue, but she did. Sighing in frustration, she made way. Stretching on the floor and flexing its wings, Rustle chirped like a hummingbird, and Mercer thought they were definitely smaller in scope than a couple of Pegasus foals he had seen, although they looked no less evolved. Maybe there was some other subspecies that flew like a helicopter, since the lift did not depend on the wings? Alex vaguely recalled that before his eyes, Rustle had never even tried to get off the ground. Too small yet for flying, how weak was the unicorn's telekinesis? Well, maybe the pegasus had little lift, but the horizontal speed was more than enough, if you believe her boastful demonstration of a scooter and a helmet.
The candle-wax pony in Mercer's lap did settle down, even if she looked up with caution. When Alex ran his fingers into her lush curls, gently stroking the skin between her ears, the unicorn almost immediately relaxed. The soft touches of the skin plates, interspersed with the scratching hardness of the nail, made the little girl break into a satisfied smile and cover her eyes. Alex almost drowned in the stream of tactile information. The winged foal, of course, was the most real disheveled, but even its fur did not contain a single bald spot, Humane was obedient to the hand and pleasant to the touch, but the white pony... Her skin was something truly magical was. It was, in general, given that it did not reflect waves of a certain length, namely that it emitted them, very evenly and softly, moreover. Not the fur behind the ears - pure velvet. The silky mane was no less delightful; it was felt that the little lady was specially caring for her, in contrast to the friends, who were limited to simply keeping their whirlwinds clean. If Mercer had a nose at that moment, he would certainly have begun to peck at them, spitting on the guards prowling somewhere outside, eager for his capture. But still, he continued to keep his own mind in good shape, for the reconnaissance mission had not yet been completed. Sleep a man now - and in the worst scenario, his sleep threatened to become eternal, even though his renewed body should have been incredibly sensitive to sleep. The long-awaited moment of relaxation, a stop in this protracted race, still did not come. Mercer was still alert, still ready for trouble. But the evolved one deserves a little respite, when you can take a breath, jumping in one place, so as not to stall at idle, right?
Taking the future sorceress to his knees, Mercer realized that he had finally fallen into this trap. It would be very difficult for him now to betray the trust and hospitality of the foals. Probably, all the same, the fatigue of the mind, which needed to grab onto something in the midst of this world, which went beyond all limits, affected itself. Something Mercer could concentrate on so that the current wouldn't pull him down... Anchor. It is difficult to recognize as a mortal threat, one of many for all these days, a young big-eyed xeno with a pink-purple mane, who, with pleasure, measures her hind legs with pleasure and stretches her neck, trying to prolong your touch. An innocent and supremely harmless creature plunged Alec he was almost in a trance, so he barely resisted the temptation to lower his hand lower, run his palm along the unicorn's back, passing her amazing fur between his fingers. He woke up only when he sent a hair that had fallen out of his mane into his “mouth”, hoping to decompose it into basic ones - and he bitterly regretted it. The taste of pony turned out to be like the corresponding cobaltate... Not to say, again, that Mercer had to try this cathode earlier, but the evolved one suspected that he was in this spectrum of sensations. Mother of mercy, what a rubbish!
Put it aside, you fucking naturalist! startled, recovering, Alex. Do not sleep and do not let go of your hands! It was definitely not worth climbing anywhere except mane and cheeks, where gestures of approval were captured. It was still not enough to get into a mess, because of the difference in cultures among the local pedophile reputation! Brr, Mercer shrugged his shoulders chilly, drowning out the urge to vomit. Abomination. It's even disgusting to think.
“I’d be a terrible father if I’m seriously worried about such things,” Alex muttered bitterly in his native language, closing the biology textbook. She and Karen never raised the topic of paternity, as if tacitly acknowledging the futility of this case. So they left it on "the beautiful horison", which will certainly be reached someday. Maybe later, after the wedding, which, in general, is not in a hurry for two young scientists either... Who knew that everything would turn out in such a crappy way?
”What?” uttered a note of incomprehension to Shu.
”Nothing, Rosemary-Blossom” Mercer answered in a benevolent voice of Rustle. ”Please, better serve, my plants-forest-book,” he nodded his head at the unicorn dozing under his hand, as if hinting that he did not want to get up and disturb her.
”Good! Show interest!”
The girl was clearly delighted that the distinguished guest had done away with boring adult squiggles and turned to a topic that she knew in some way. Shu brought in bundles of old books tied with twine and pretty dusty somewhere in the attic, among which there was another primer and several albums of a similar purpose. Probably, this is what the yellow pony studied before going to school. The rest of the volumes turned out to be manuals on agriculture and botanical reference books - Alex was especially pleased with the clearly hand (hoof) written collection of flora and fauna of the Everfree Forest. Mercer obediently familiarized himself with all the wild counterparts of the crops that Shu's relatives grew on the farm and which she did not fail to brag about. After that, to the filly’s question, sounded with bated breath, he assured her in an expert tone that they had the largest and best farm of all that Zeus had seen in his lifetime - without lying a single word. Mercer was one hell of a village life, except that he watched briefly on TV, and the orchards with vegetable gardens of horse villagers really impressed with their production and scale... Shu squealed happily, so Marshmally sleepily muttered something in the spirit of "let me sleep" under her breath and turned away head. Enjoying the touch no less than the white pony, Alex began to slowly palpate her scruff, so that the unicorn really began to snore, opening her mouth amusingly.
Rustle, meanwhile, seizing the initiative, took Shu's old diary away and began to show Alex the "coolest things" that were found in the surrounding forests. Mercer regularly read the text, listening to her comments, tasting new words and outlining perspectives for himself. Most of the information turned out to be not that useful (from the story of how the foals almost fell for the chef's teeth, Mercer only made a note that one of the pegasus could almost melt their brains with a glance) - but something seemed to Alex interesting. For example, familiar tree wolves were described as creatures capable of sneaking up completely unnoticed... The damn triffids of the local spill were not at all reflected in the magical background, unlike other creatures of this kind, which Mercer, based on descriptions of Rustle, christened golems. Probably, this property would make ideal predators out of dogs, but only there were no serious attacks from their side. Ponies that accidentally wandered into their territory will not tear apart - but they will spoil the skin, driving you out of the forest; until you pull out all the splinters, you will regret a hundred times that you were born, if there is no doctor at hand with a potion to remove foreign objects. Occasionally, the creatures got out of the Everfree, as if their patrol program was malfunctioning, but everything invariably returned to normal. The day wolves-dendrotransformers (merging into one large mechanoid came in a set) were often carried out in the form of a bush, recharged from the local abnormal sun, but they could easily be taken out of this state, being disturbed... Hmm. It was impossible to spot them with spells, but to smell them completely - the characteristic smell of either freshly cut grass or resin gave out the creatures with their heads, warning of their presence somewhere nearby.
Mercer had a good idea in addition to the one that was visiting him at the sight of blue flowers. The very ones that he caught a glimpse of, already independently leafing through one of the reference books, and which, with their pollen, caused acute discomfort, bordering on the desire to die. After asking Shu for clarification, Alex recognized from the tone of the pony that for the aborigines such thickets were something more neutral than dangerous. The quirk of the local nature was called "Painful-Mockery-Hyperbolizing", but Mercer called the plant shortly, without sentimentality: "Poison bitch." For the inhabitants of this world, the pollen was not lethal - it brought troubles of a magical nature, and therefore the evolved one had immunity to it. It seemed that the effect was accidental, although Shu claimed that the disease was somehow connected with that very talented mark. More precisely, Alex could not understand, but he already counted it for the jackpot. Randomness is an ideal weapon against the system and its minions, but here it grows right under our feet, available in the form of natural chemical weapons! Just add water... spray that is - and you're done! Hope's sources would have been jealous, there was no need for any race markers.
“So, the plants are no dead,” man clarified in bewilderment, when Shu, angrily rubbing at Rustle, returned the hoof to herself and showed Mercer the beauty and pride of the apple family - "Discharge-fruits" , which were originally a wild magical species, but through some cunning manipulations with watering cans and glass jars (?!) migrated from the pages of the diary to the ponies in the garden.
“Confirmation! They always be like that, during the harvest, changes are noticed!” the pony with a bow nodded. Then, on reflection, she slammed the book and gently hid it behind her back, looking hopefully at Alex. “Enough about our world, please! We will not know about your details at all, told us? Who is you there? How are you...
The yellow filly spat out new questions, and Mercer just cursed to himself. How can explain to silly ponies, without exchanging for hour-long lectures and not blurting out anything important, but also without looking too secretive, what the earth was like - and what place did Dr. Mercer occupy in life there?
“An interesting question,” - said Alexander thoughtfully and unhurriedly, buying himself a little time. “In fact, I am not anything less than a person,” if he understood correctly, this word in a pony meant precisely that a creature with its type of musculoskeletal system, and not a specific race, “but not anything either else. Just be aware of who I is no longer.”
The foals looked at each other, blinking. Then the pegasus asked in such a tone, as if she suspected that they were making fun of her:
“Is this more riddle?”
“Mine wasn't understand,” the farmers' daughter honestly admitted, looking at Alex with surprise. - “How could you not see who you be? Haven't you found talent significant of your? But you say that you have cute-marks for lack!”
“Well, no,” the evolved shook his head. “I told you that I was like that... When she”, Mercer nodded his head at the snoring Marshmally, “spoke about the magic of movement. No gravitationally!”
“Aha! You be like Nyu-tno! Opener!” giggled Shu, recalling a short excursion into scientific mythology from Mercer. “His will give him an apple on the head! And he immediately opened it!”
“What kind of gravity? Items without magic just fly down! Pegasus knows this better...” - puzzled scratched Rustle behind her ear.
The foals got into a heated discussion about whether Rarity should stand under the apple tree, which Sister Shu is shaking off at that very moment, at the next fit of creative impotence. Mercer, realizing that he would completely confuse not only the foals, but also himself, decided to act directly, without offense. Having woken up Marshmallow with that gentle patting between the ears, Alex sent the little lady to the floor, got to his feet, so that the foals involuntarily took a step back. Taking a machine gun from the attic, Mercer stuffed a tape into the bolt box and tidied up his belongings. Drown a tin can, a gutted emergency bag and an empty cylinder in a swamp, and that's the end of it - there is nothing to scatter with obvious evidence.
“Girls,” he used a generalizing word that he heard on the site from the foal teacher. “My language is correct not yet. It is important to study better for the conversation, but was is important to stronger find an adult who answers the adult's question. Can you find once? Before meeting the Princesses. After that I will tell you everything that you want. An agreement?”
“Agreement,” the little ones nodded seriously, not even really grasping the essence of Alex's words. Then only Marshmally, the most sensible, seemed to have caught some wrong and asked:
“You are a stranger, they accept and help. Why, then, immediately not the princess?”
“Live Long. Seen everything,” Alex grinned, flexing his spine and checking if all the bombs were in place.
Then he condescended to explain, ”Know you. No-now acquaintance with princesses. Mighty magician. Afraid.”
Little ones tried to convince him that Luna and Celestia are the best and kindest rulers in the world, who will certainly enter the position of a foreigner and easily forgive that he plowed the outskirts of the city with his "paddle machine", but Mercer was adamant. How could the foals, in fact, know that the words formed from "rule" had been causing indigestion in Mercer for two months already, and for the last three weeks they had completely activated in the evolved many basic terrorist instincts, such as: introducing, obtaining data, disclosing with superior damage. Is it so easy to trust four-legged entities, which is objectively much stronger than Zeus in a direct collision? Not the best survival strategy.
Alex liked the fact that the small ones did not openly insist on their position at the suggestion of Rustle - they understood that adults, because of their tricks with a stranger, could be upset with something that they, children, would not understand. Perhaps the eyeballs occupied a greater proportion of the skull in foals than in humans, but foals have thinking cap on them. The restless girls were clearly not the kind who talk about their dolls all day and arrange toy tea parties; based on how easily the trio threw off the possibility of pairing Alex with the princesses, man's suspicions about their rich experience of adventure on the fifth point only strengthened.
Shu first said that they should have turned to someone named Constellation-in-Twilight as the smartest pony in town, but she left with Marshmally's older sister to the north, to some now forgotten empire... The gray-white punk reasonably retorted: since such a thing, the designated man would still not have come up, since she was Celestia's own protégé. Rustle suggested a zebra - One-who-conjures-through-the-brew, that lived in the distance, did not particularly go into pony affairs, but had a reputation as a wise and balanced mare, to whom it is not shameful to turn for advice. To be sure, the pegasus even sketched it on a piece of paper, and Mercer recognized the herbalist she had met earlier. Alchemist? Not quite, the meaning of the designation was a little different... The yellow pony agreed, saying that she and the zebra had already been connected by some successfully resolved case, but Alex was already opposed. Having met a forest witch, he could not call her hostile (and worthy to be killed by a helicopter for the sake of local recognition), but she was too strange for Mercer. Unpredictability was not what he wanted to see among the qualities of his informant...
The third candidate was proposed by Marshmally, immediately after Alex dismissed Shu's plans to sneak into the school and arrange a confrontation with one of the teachers there. Another unicorn, a female, according to the white one was "an expert on humans" and shared her hobby only with a narrow circle of initiates. Mercer agreed, never being able to understand what a pony was and why, in general, in the world of four-legged, someone could think of the life of upright creatures in the head of a hobby. A local conspiracy theorist and green man? The very same man striving for contact with minds from other worlds, whose existence Mercer suggested by the presence of any kind of science fiction and comics? Okay, not the best option, but it will make decision. Mercer will only need to extract some data from this unicorn in person, and then the whole world has to stop. One hell about his close acquaintance with the trio in a day, in a maximum of two, the whole city will find out - Alex did not create any illusions that the talkers would be able to keep such a tasty secret, sooner or later they would say it out of pure bragging or in some other way attract the attention of adults. Let this information bomb go off when it is convenient for Mercer...
Alex leaned over to the window and looked out, peering cautiously from behind the curtains. It was getting close to evening, and soon the little ones were to be invited to dinner. All three of them gathered to spend the night on the farm, judging by their conversations, under the protection of the Apple family and a pair of winged guards that patrolled the city boundaries on this site. Another sleepless night... Not so bad for a man who used to pore over a new project until dawn, grabbing a fleeting idea by the tail. Mercer is no stranger to it. It was time to remember the very first days of becoming evolved. It's time to stretch your bones a little... and hunt, only in the real jungle, not urban.
Zeus surely had to deal with these remaining fleeting details. He is well armed for trashy, in which the villainess-fate threw him, circumstances. Machine gun, a solid supply of low-power bombs that can only inflict damage when detonated at close range, immunity to directed magic, territory control. On the side of Alexander - speed, surprise, fear and sophisticated in their cruelty, inventions, which can become a revelation for members of the local archaic society. Alex will assume that princesses are ordinary politicians, not superintelligents; if they could go into the separation of streams of consciousness, were strong in mult-tasking and have used levels of planning above second for millennia, like Seldon, (10) it would certainly be reflected in their personalities. Probably. But if Mercer is wrong... Well, one thing is reassuring: the likelihood of peace negotiations with arch-ancient creatures, for some reason loving to tinker with primitive equids compared to them, is quite high. Mercer did not know how he would have acted in the position of twin monarchs - if he had stayed in his world, finding himself in terms of the development of other people higher after that incident. Unfortunate, perhaps. Although, how to think... On the one hand, his original, with his outburst of anger and inept bluff, sentenced many New Yorkers. On the other hand, if Mercer hadn’t announced the government’s dirty tricks so loudly that it would never be cleaned up, make him McMullen finish the development of the latent version - and much more people around the world would suffer. And the elected representatives wanted to spit on US citizens outside the elections and paying taxes, just give them an excuse to let them down the chain dogs in black uniforms, as it turned out. Maybe if Alexander stayed in his home world, he managed to make sure that the sacrifice of all these people was not in vain? I would use my latest capabilities for the benefit of mankind, ignite biotechnology as the dawn of a new era of science and medicine...
Ridiculous. What the fuck is the difference now? The hell! Got stuck where, with talking horses, maybe he’s not has a tea party - is it meaningful to hesitate because of an unfulfilled? It was necessary to get out of this place, even if you had to risk begging for help from the locals. Otherwise, the only thing that will remain is to treat oneself with trials, that fall not only on the shoulders, but on the soul, on the human spirit. Alex chirped softly with his windpipe, drowning out the echoes of his conscience. In the rare moments of the lull of the epidemic in Manhattan, he experienced this feeling, although he was very reluctant to admit it to himself. Now is especially the wrong time. Alex will reflect on the everyday life of the world he left behind if he returned there. When returns, to be more precise - he will certainly return. If an event seems impossible, it only means that a permissive discovery has not yet been made.
“Do you hear, Universe?” muttered Mercer, almost with hatred looking out of the window at the azure sky. “At least you dare not behave differently in this world! This is how you always worked, do you hear?!”
The wonderful summer sky, touched by fluffy clouds, remained deaf to the words evolved like the stars above the river surface. Mercer now knew that the sky would always be bright here, as long as the Pegasus were watching the weather and directing atmospheric activity in the right direction. And the stars here were artificial, completely subordinated to the will of the dark alicorn. Looking for signs of fate, obscure answers in the sky controlled by intelligent beings? What an amazing irony... The foals fell silent and looked at the evolved one, tilting their heads to one side. Just now, they were whispering about their upcoming adventure, the essence of which was to make hilariously stupid decisions and follow them through. Alex, hearing everything perfectly, involuntarily smiled to himself - the girls were going to try to find out from the newcomer the essence of the occupations and professions of his home world, in order to arrange a series of terrorist attacks... sorry, that is, to try themselves in these crafts. Perhaps the Enlightened Buddha himself would not have been able to delve into a number of inferences that led Rustle to the conclusion that a new acquaintance would certainly volunteer to help them if the filly were treated to milkshakes in their favorite cafe.
Alex cleared his throat and reminded them that local produce would not be good for him - and refreshed the foals in their memory that they should introduce him to that same unicorn tomorrow. Tomorrow, if they so want, Zeus can tell something about his world, albeit about the crafts that bind human society together. A deafening, ecstatic screech sliced across Mercer's eardrums, making him flinch. By the pricking of his thumbs- with such an approach to secrecy that it was possible for a whole trio to announce the whole district to their "CUTIE-MARK-CRUSADERS-HUMAN-IMITATORS-YAY", Mercer could even today wait for the capture command to visit. Nothing... He's almost ready. The evening and night will still be spent, although preparation is never enough. Alex, grumbling goodbye that he would find the foals in a convenient place in the morning, was already turning to the exit - but then he was pulled by the leg.
“And what about mine?” Shu squeaked, looking pleadingly at the evolved. ”It's my turn to come true...”
Mercer has an uncomfortable feeling in the lower chest. It occurred to him that if this goes on, then the affection of children will spread to adults, and this will cause difficulties in terms of their perception by a potential adversary who can literally distort reality. The danger of being "mentally rooted" in this world alarmed Alex even more than the likelihood of never returning home. Under her stern, appraising gaze, Shu made a face of genuine frustration, and Mercer realized that his battle-hardened psyche was t not an assistant - Human softened not just at the sight of the upset pony, but also because the occupation she was asking for was to his liking. When white and red ponies, who had already received their share of affection, began to ask for a friend, Mercer finally gave up. He won't lose it if Alex's prolonged respite is extended for another ten or twenty minutes... Moving away from the door, Mercer sat down on the floor with a quack, mentally preparing to listen to another fucking interesting story from a foal's life.
“Okay then,” he slapped on the thigh, in his native language beckoning the filly with a bow. “Come here, little thing.”
“Yay!”
In the end, Alex thought melancholy, surrounded by three fluffy, lively and moreover hugs loving warmers, it was a surprisingly good day.
Changeling, on which the Queen, after listening to the elixir of Exchange in the shelter, entrusted a dangerous (and certainly honorable) mission, thought at that moment something diametrically opposite.