☄☄☄
Cursory Streak was lost in reverie about the future and did not even try to hold back a smile.
She herself knew how to make love in flight — or slow fall, to be more precise. But in order to enjoy it, both needed to be so skilled, and it would be strange to expect that from an earth pony. She could teach Gentle — in a hurry, on the go, choosing awkward words when actions should be prevalent, without an airspace and a suitable landing pad nearby… No. If she had enough time though, if they were at her station, with a safety cloud below, they might have coped — even with Gentle Touch as a partner.
No ‘might have’, she corrected herself. We will make it, in time. They had a common destiny now, real for certain — and perhaps this was the most important thing.
In the meantime, they were forced to stop every time freefall set in. For two short periods of deceleration, each much less than a slice, they could not go beyond preludes and promises; not while keeping themselves out of Cursory’s frantic lust which — once in a time that did not come to pass — crippled their intimacy for too long.
Of course the shuttle was asking them to stay put with belts fastened, but they had the right to choose for themselves; still, the more white and somewhat more orderly half of them followed the message.
To Cursory's quiet happiness, the promise to follow on and, moreover, to keep going after that was no less straight and certain than short lines of incisions on her front legs, chest and neck, covered now with a transparent bluish medical glue; ones given by Gentle Touch. The lines that led Cursory from ‘Why not’ and further on nonstop through ‘Are you sure we should do this’ and ‘Curious and unusual’.
The next stop, as her body clearly communicated to all its inhabitants — one to three mares depending on the point of view — was ‘I want more and I'm ready to beg,’ and that was when Cursory pressed the emergency button— that is, told Gentle to stop for now.
By this time Cursory had received seven cuts. Nopony ever does anything four or eight times — especially in matters involving blood or sex or rituals, which was the case. The ninth cut could shred the last remnants of Cursory's composure. Her nose had already been filled by a scent of unripe apples.
Nopony ever loved Cursory that way before, she had not imagined this as pleasure, and overall... She did not want to think about it too much either.
She didn't even want to get the crossword puzzle, and the first question that was not directly related to Gentle's initiative, did not spoil the mood either, “Tell me please, do you really think that it's worth talking to the Red, and getting in touch with it in general?” Gentle asked.
Cursory turned her head towards her, without getting up from the lodgement, and smiled a little wider and a little more quizzically, “Um? Yes, how could it be otherwise? I don’t say what I’m not sure about. I already said that to Pink. By the way, I wonder, have you heard our conversation, hmm?”
Gentle smiled, chuckled in confirmation, and with a hoof gesture and a nod invited Cursory to finish the thought, which she did, “Anyway… I don’t remember anypony talking to her, so we’ll be the first. Well, not really... I mean, I remember that recording, but in our generation we’d be the first for sure. Isn't that in itself a reason? Otherwise, such a meeting would be in the newspapers, in rumors, in the distant winds…” with each next word starting from the second third of the answer, Cursory spoke a tiny bit slower, because...
Why has nopony tried a meeting with the Red before? she asked herself, then, in her mind, turned to where there were shadows, to that impossible side of imagination. There was nopony there either, only a corridor with a stained white carpet, closed compartment doors and a couple of mirrors on the walls.
“Did you think like this before? Before we met, for example,” Gentle asked, quiet and mindful.
Cursory took a deep breath, was about to answer — then she exhaled.
She did not know. "No" — and that would go against the key part of what Cursory as a person ever valued. "Yes" — and then why did it never come up even in the chatter over milkshakes?
Poking into each of the impossibilities, she walked along the narrow corridor between them, “The thought was always there, I just— I just had no reason to consider it. You know, when you fly— that is, when you run, you don't think about each leg separately. But if somepony asked, then I would have answered the same.”
Gentle nodded and walked closer to her; for now gravity from engines once again allowed them to walk, not float in the air, “Don't worry. I feel about the same, except I am hurt by the Red, and I want to call it out for that, and I have a purpose for the meeting, and I will not heed to its wishes until it says that nopony would be hurt by it, anymore ever, unless I make it cry… but the meeting itself is, and always had been, a… hidden option, buried deep inside. Sometimes I wanted it, especially in a hospital…” Gentle sniffed, then went on, “At first I thought that the Moons denied us the idea in order to save lives, but then parts did not come together. Everypony chooses for themselves, and this block would be totally out of Their style. Breaking the Prime Word, even.”
Cursory Streak sharply nodded, “In the worst of cases, They limit supplies and make sure that a project is unadvised, sometimes along with the creator. They don’t stop it outright. It causes secondary issues, more often than I would like...”
Gentle Touch intently looked at her, then slowly and sadly shook her head, “I’d like to agree, but, to be honest, I can’t. In a way, for your Moon, I think you’re right. But I would rather not talk about Desire’s approach for those who repeatedly denied Her polite requests to consider steering off their chosen way. It appears mild, at first, but it is gradual and inevitable.”
Cursory Streak opened her eyes wide, gulped and shook her head, her ears drooped, “I refuse to believe, my dear, until I see it with my own eyes.”
Gentle Touch nodded, “Of course... Well, so I was saying... Black Moon did not say directly that she does want to reconcile with the Red, and I could not read Her real feelings, but… Black Moon spoke about it with sadness. And in any case, She told me, "Maybe we could talk to it eventually."
“That means, we aren’t going against the will of all the Moons yet?” Cursory inquired. The corridor between understandable relief and inexplicable disappointment narrowed again.
“Maybe we’re not,” Gentle almost whispered, hugging her again; words were louder than a quiet sigh into her ear, but not by much. “Or, if we are, then not directly. I think... please don't be afraid... that we are Their lapsus. That we were spoken without desire, without will, without intention. That we are a word that slipped out, a word They all but caught on Their lips before it was too late, but still we are the Word. We can try to reconcile with the Red, because the Moons themselves cannot. They would like to, but they cannot — after all this endless conflict— impasse, how can They give in before the enemy? Do you see?"
Yes, Cursory saw an idea there. Talking to ponies who have brought their lives to the point that they were classified as issues in the system, meant finding out what really worried them; worried so much that they could not even think, moreso talk about it. She rarely performed this task beyond the first careful conversation — she just lacked the patience and calm needed — and passed these issues on to more specialized experts. But the thought itself was clear.
“Then we have to do it,” she replied seriously, looking Gentle straight in the eye; another short kiss reminded of an unsatisfied thirst, and almost knocked her off the conversation, but the look of Signal behind the earth pony’s back, and even more so the thing on which Signal was sitting, brought her back to more pressing questions, “So, nevertheless, what’s with Solid Line?” Cursory asked, “What did they say? You promised to tell later, and if this is not later—”
“Ah! I have not forgotten,” Gentle smiled disarmingly, “Just… procedures should be performed in order of urgency. And no, everything is not as bad as it seemed at first,“ a smile became embarrassed, “otherwise I would not— well— the issue is not caused by the calculations. Therefore, they did not give us a single auxiliary computational block. I correct myself: not by calculations that electronics can perform in a reasonable time. There were three options, all three were equally probable. Either she got into a deadlock, and we need other ponies to connect to her... preferably other synths to add specialized organic matter, ones that have other sets of base rules and thus could lead her out of the deadlock—”
“Why didn't they do that?!” Cursory was indignant, furious in an instant.
“They did! But Solid Line rejected the connection from her side. There are two options left: either this is not a calculation at all but a contradiction in the base rules, and then she needs those whom she trusts, not merely the first synths she comes across…” Gentle sped up, trying to move away from the sensitive topic as soon as possible; Cursory noticed this and understood the unspoken hint, “or she needs the Moon. But Solid's life is not in danger as long as her bodily needs are satisfied. I will take it upon myself. I just need to read a manual for this model, but in general these capsules are known to me. I myself have visited a similar one. I need no help with this.”
Cursory found herself at a loss for words. After a pause, she resorted to being frank, “So what, you can somehow add such an interface? If it is possible, then... I don't even know if I can reach it within my status. Never looked it up before, didn’t even know they existed…”
Gentle looked away for a third of a beat, then looked straight back again, "So you are ready, for real? I like it. Solid Line can truly rely on you, so I can too. But no. This is not an option either. It's not even about the surgery — the neural reconfiguration will take nine cycles at best, is next to irreversible, and the surgery, with the following rehab, can only be performed by rare and precious equipment, or…” she rubbed her temple “...or, assume we want to really speed up your implantation and rehab process. Then we need a wonder, basically. For that, we could petition Electra and Desire to team up and train their joint Herald for this surgery specifically, and make it at speed, and a suitable candidate then needs to be found first... or... well, it’s ridiculous. Either too long or requires too much from ponies unrelated to our mission. So, all this works only as a last resort. Thus I think that as soon as we return to the light of the Moons, Solid Line will recover.”
Cursory nodded, not hiding her relief. She asked, out of curiosity. “Are there any benefits from these implants, besides unlocking hang-up synths?”
Gentle smiled, “Yes, we will discuss it later... or we will discuss it right away in case of that last resort. For now, don't even worry.”
Cursory followed the advice and slowly drifted away, happy and floating in the fuzzy time where past, present and future were intertwined.
At one moment their shuttle, finally having chosen a landing trajectory according to the copy of the map obtained long ago from Black Moon in sector 12-S, fell into the atmosphere. Unusually rigid triangular wings protruded from the sides, the level hum of the engines almost died down and the shuttle went into glider mode. In any case, that was what the inscription on the dim projection in front of the lodgement said.
When they just boarded, the screens and projections of the shuttle were dotted with incomprehensible orange scribbles, but as soon as she and Gentle spoke to each other before takeoff, the shuttle switched to their native language, bright and clear — maybe too clear; they were offered a common language in a dialect and fonts for dyslexic ponies, and the words were accompanied by a lot of pictograms. Naturally, Cursory was outraged and asked to use a standard common language; Gentle, visibly ashamed, explained to her that this is, most likely, not meant as an offence. The shuttle understood Cursory, and that was a main reason why she was inclined to follow the polite request to fasten seat belts that appeared a bit later on.
A step further down the memory lane: before leaving, Gentle was in panic that she had lost the map, and Cursory took a long time in assuring her beloved mare that one way or another they would manage, even if they had to summon Pink again.
Over time, though, having calmed down and distracted herself from the issue a little, Gentle was able to reproduce the map not just in general terms, but with perfect accuracy as it was once stored in the glasses and now in Gentle’s united memory.
Then, sniffling, she confessed that she felt very stupid. Cursory did not giggle in response, and simply said instead, "It happens to everypony, that's why I am here."
Left unsaid for now, as the time for it had not come yet, but still heard, judging by Gentle’s timid smile, was “From now on I will be forever in your reach until you cast me out and release this promise to all nine winds; I will never fly so far away that, seeking out for me, you would not find me; I will never step so close in that, seeking beyond me, you would lose sight of all the other uncounted wonders. Together from now on, we will find everything that we have lost. This I promise."
Gentle asked another question, and it brought the pegasus back from her sweetish-sour memories, lifting her euphoric veil, “Cursory, are you no longer... becoming a Moon? It's just that the fire in you is still burning, I can see it…”
Cursory did a quick check-up on herself, as if before the flight, for any issues. No, she was here, in her body, with its needs partly contradicting each other. For example, she was thirsty, and to reach the bottles of water or fruit juice she didn't even have to get up, just turn her head to the left. But it was prudent to abstain — and for a good reason, as the shuttle either did not provide certain equipment, or forgot to explain to them where it was.
“No,“ she answered honestly, “How about you?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but genuine concern seeped into the question.
"Neither I, for now," Gentle said slowly. “But while I was at the station... Now I understand that I was stronger there. I was reading minds, honestly. I overheard conversations. I almost, almost, understood how Solid works. And Solid also said that she was there... more free than ever, if my memory serves. And now I'm normal again. I want to ask... have you ever flown over the Net? Is it alike?
Cursory blinked, “No? That is, maybe a little, huh? When I did, I did only under White, and not in Her full glory. The light over the Net, it is like a flame, you have to restrain yourself to not burn out in it. To keep yourself from becoming Changed. You are invited to follow the trail of Her magic, like a newcomer to the academy on first missions behind the leader... and I’d say it also looks a little like you when you were…” Cursory looked at an incision on her leg and pressed her ears that gained color; she did not finish, “Over the Net you risk becoming the flare of the Moon, its smallest ray. Lose your will, part with yourself. At the station... There I myself would be a Moon. This is a bit like what you are saying, but different. Overall… yes, in a sense. It offers unusual power, that’s a given.”
Gentle nodded, politely skipping the awkward compliment, but by that moment it was too late: Cursory noticed the tip of Gentle’s tongue stuck out in a beat of desire.
Gentle coughed, "Don't worry, there is no wrong answer, this is not an exam. I'm just wondering... How strong was the Moons’ rule over us at the station? We flew there, expecting that the Moons would not be there. This is a logical assumption! The ponies there took refuge, and Storm doesn't like Them at all. But as it turned out… you saw what happened. We became more powerful instead. So I have an idea... if we are in fact something like Their incautious words... then it seems reasonable that They suppress us. That under an ordinary sky we are not in full strength, you see?”
Cursory shook her head, “Not really. Tell me, in a short and concise way, what do you want me to do? I will do it.”
Gentle sighed and looked a little to the side, then again turned her direct gaze to the pegasus, “When we were at 12-S, you sheltered me from the stars. Can you, at least for the first slice after our landing, shelter us from the Moons? Not reach Their power but do the contrary?”
Cursory looked at her inner fire; it still burned in her heart, confident, unwavering. Yes, it was quite willing to comply with this request.
Cursory nodded, responding with a direct look in Gentle's eyes, “If you say it’s necessary, I'll do it. But, my dear, do you remember that we still have Black Moon’s mission? That we divert from it only because you asked for the side quest.”
Gentle Touch nodded, silent.