“Tell me again what you saw. Slowly.”
The hapless mercenary stifled a yawn, completely oblivious to how thin Syzygy’s patience was growing. He paid this one to guard the freight terminal, not to take naps.
“Well, when the crane fired up an’ started haulin’ a crate around all by itself, I thought that was mighty suspicious,” he said. “So I went an’ checked it out. Sure as shit, an honest-to-Celestia robot was workin’ the controls. When the crate set down again, he pulled it open and trotted right in. There were some other ponies in there, too.”
“And you didn’t stop them?”
“Well, I was too far away to get there before it slid right into the mass driver and got shot inta space. So that’s why I called you.”
“I see.”
Syzygy turned around and looked at the four infiltrators sharing the freight terminal’s control room with him. He laid his eyes on the group’s computer expert. “I have a task for you, Strawberry.”
The young mare swallowed nervously, a behavior that was not lost on Syzygy. “Yes, sir?”
“I want you to access that crate’s transponder and change its designation to salvage.”
She blinked and frowned in confusion. “Sir?”
“It would appear that a group of creatures has managed to escape our lockdown. If they manage to survive the trip, especially with that robot, they can warn the princess and ruin our plan before I have time to complete the Armillary. I have an agent at the salvage yards who can take care of them.”
Strawberry nodded. “Yes, sir.”
She walked up to one of the consoles and began tapping at its interface. She was finished much faster than he thought she would be, and she stepped away. “There.”
“Show me.”
She stared at him for a few moments, then turned back to the console. With a few more keystrokes, a map of the objects in orbit around the Moon sprung up on the primary display. Syzygy leaned in to get a better look at it, and he was able to see the hyperbolic trajectory of an object on an escape path out of the Moon’s gravity. Floating beside the orange dot were the object’s identification strings:
OBJ_ID: DCO1437
OBJ_OWN: NONE
BCST_MSG: UNOWNED DEBRIS; SALVAGE OR DESTROY
“Perfect. Thank you. But there’s one more broadcast message I’d like you to add.”
“What is it?”
“May I?”
Strawberry tapped at the console again and brought up a dense mass of code. She selected a few lines from within the chaos, then backed away.
Syzygy approached the console, typed in a new string, then motioned for Strawberry to apply the changes. She looked at the code with confusion, but closed the window and watched the crate’s transponder tag update.
“Now, before I head out to the Maulwurf and oversee operations there, I’ll be speaking with my wife. Do not disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”
No one said anything as he swept out of the room.
The hallways of Starshine City were colder and darker than Syzygy remembered them as he made his way to the eastern apartment blocks. He had left strict orders that no guards were to be posted there, which in retrospect had been a mistake. The incompetence of the mercenaries had allowed an unknown number of creatures to sneak in and go right to her.
He was thankful they hadn’t harmed her, even though her nurse would be unable to speak for a few weeks while her jaw healed. She didn’t say much anyway.
He entered Crimson’s room, noting the furniture in disarray and the scribbles on the walls. He lamented the fact that he had no time for prophecies now; maybe they would have given him some guidance.
Crimson was asleep on the bed. He sat down beside her and ran a tender hoof through her mane.
“Oh, it pains me so much to see you like this,” he said quietly. He took a shaky breath and tried not to let the memories break his composure, as they had done so many times before.
“Just a couple more days, my love, and I can fix all of this.”
He sat there, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, for several minutes.
“Can you still remember the day destiny brought us together?”
***
A bell overhead tinkled merrily as Syzygy pushed his way into the coffee shop. There weren’t any other patrons inside, which wasn’t a surprise. Syzygy had gone out of his way to find an isolated and lesser-known shop, tucked away in the streets of Upper Canterlot. He liked things quiet.
There was nopony behind the counter as he approached, so he rang the small bell beside the register.
“Oh! Just a minute!” a voice called out from the back room. A unicorn mare quickly trotted out and took up her place behind the register.
Syzygy’s first impression was that she was very pretty. Her coat was an almost shocking shade of red, and her face was framed with locks of her bronze mane. Her smile lit up her whole face, making dimples on her cheeks.
“Welcome! What can I get you today?”
“Uh…just a small cup of your Zebrican blend, please. Medium roast.”
“Of course! Cream or sugar?”
“One cream and two sugars.”
“Coming right up! What’s your name?”
“Huh?”
“…your name? For your order?”
“Oh! Uh, Syzygy.”
The mare’s brow furrowed in confusion, the cup and marker hovering in her magic beside her. “Um…how do you spell that?”
He couldn’t help but laugh a little at her expression; it was adorable.
“Don’t worry, I get that a lot. It’s S-Y-Z-Y-G-Y.”
She stuck out her tongue a little as she wrote the letters on the cup. “Okay! I’ll get that right out for you.”
As the barista retreated back to the coffee machines to prepare his order, Syzygy found a spot to sit down. Despite his efforts, he found himself unable to take his eyes away from her. Her vibrant crimson fur was almost glowing in the early morning sunlight, and her bronze hair, tied back with a ribbon, almost seemed to sparkle.
Before he knew it, she had finished his drink and was calling out his name. Or at least, was trying to.
“Siz…sig…uh…”
Syzygy laughed again as he stood up to take his coffee. “Sih-zih-jee. Syzygy,” he pronounced.
“Syzygy,” she repeated slowly. “Wow, that’s a unique name.”
“Yeah, most ponies have trouble pronouncing it. My friends just call me Ziggy.”
She giggled. “Ziggy, that’s cute. But I like your real name. What does it mean?”
He twisted around to show her his cutie mark: three overlapping grey circles. “It’s an astronomical term, meaning a planetary alignment.”
“Oh, cool! So I’m guessing you’re majoring in astronomy or astrophysics at the university, then?”
That caught him off guard. He hadn’t brought up his enrollment in college to her at all. “Huh?”
She giggled again. “I saw the emblem of Canterlot University on your bag. You’re about the right age, and I know classes start tomorrow. You’re probably wandering around town, trying to figure out the lay of the city, right?”
Syzygy could only stare dumbly at her. “Uh…yeah, that’s right.”
“It’s kind of my special talent.” She turned around and showed him her own cutie mark: a crystal ball. “Some ponies think I can read minds or predict the future or something, but I really just take in all the little details and put them together.”
“So, uh, what’s your name?”
Her eyes widened and she put a hoof to her mouth. “Oh! I got yours and didn’t even tell you mine, how rude of me. I’m Crimson Herald, but you can just call me Crimson.”
“That’s…fitting.” He had never seen fur as colorful as hers; it was eye-catching, to say the least.
“Yeah, my grandmother wasn’t the most creative when she named me. She was also pretty superstitious, too, hence the “herald” part.”
“Why did your grandmother name you?”
“I don’t know, family tradition, I guess. I couldn’t ask her, since she passed away when I was little.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but I was so young I never really knew her. My mom said she passed away from brain cancer, which is part of why I’m studying to be a neurosurgeon.”
He took a sip of his coffee, carefully thinking of the next thing to say. “Are you going to Canterlot University too?”
“Yep! In fact, this is my last day here at the coffee shop before classes start.”
Syzygy took a deep breath, then asked the question he had been trying to formulate in his head as soon as he had laid eyes on Crimson.
“After your shift, would you want to…well, explore a little bit of the city together? Maybe get something to eat?”
Crimson blinked a couple of times, then her face grew into that wonderful smile again.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
***
Syzygy shook his head to free himself from the memory. Reflection could be useful; essential, even, for keeping in mind the defining moments of one’s life. It gave perspective.
Syzygy had spent quite a lot of time in reflection over the past few months, but the time for dwelling in the past was over. There was too much to be done now; it was too close to the culmination of everything he had worked for.
He pushed himself to his hooves and strode back into the hallways and corridors outside his wife’s room. He made his way, mercenaries acknowledging him as he passed, to the spacecraft factory where they had landed. Blackwater was there, and Syzygy called over to him.
“Blackwater.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Have the engineers and Armillary parts been taken to the Maulwurf?”
“Yep. They dusted off less than ten minutes ago.”
“Excellent. Collect some of your most trusted soldiers as well as a pilot, and get ready. We’ll be taking my shuttle there momentarily.”
“Copy that,” Blackwater acknowledged and trotted off, barking orders at his own subordinates.
While Syzygy had issues with Blackwater’s attitude, he couldn’t fault the stallion’s efficiency. Within minutes, a pilot and a small squad of mercenaries had been rounded up and strapped into his shuttle. Before he took his seat, Syzygy made sure to check the crates that rested inside. These were not ordinary wood or metal cargo crates; these were padded, shock-resistant miniature vaults that only he held the keys to. He opened each one to verify their contents: three massive spell matrix crystals, each one painstakingly etched with an incredibly powerful spell, hours of work by a team of unicorns. It would take an equally powerful machine to cast these spells.
With his precious cargo intact, he strapped into the copilot’s seat and gave permission to depart. Soon they were speeding along, with nothing but the shuttle’s shadow on the ground ahead of them. But that, too, was soon gone, as the skies darkened and the stars came out. But Syzygy wasn’t looking at the stars.
***
“Okay, what about her? What can you guess about that mare?” Syzygy asked, pointing to a pony at a nearby cafe table.
“Hm...well, let’s see. She’s wearing a hat that complements her colors, her mane is expertly styled, and her hooves are done. She looks impatient, though, and keeps looking around. It’s 15 minutes after the hour, so I would wager that her date has failed to show up...oh, now that’s interesting.”
“What?”
“There’s a patch of fur on her neck that she keeps rubbing. It looks like there used to be a necklace there. Some ponies wear pendants when they get married, so maybe she’s recently divorced...or unfaithful?”
“That reminds me. Remember when you guessed my mother’s favorite actor at our wedding?”
“No, I don’t...” Crimson looked back at him with a frown.
“Really? The look on her face was priceless! You and I were giggling about that all night.”
“Oh...That sounds like something I should remember,” she said. An uncertain expression clouded her face for a moment, but she shook it off and finished her coffee.
“Well, we should probably head home now. I think I’ve spent enough of our money for one day,” she said as she motioned to a small pile of shopping bags on the ground next to her.
“Lead the way,” Syzygy said as he set down his own drink, as well as some bits for a tip.
Crimson stood up, bags floating beside her, and trotted out onto the sidewalk where she suddenly came to a stop.
“Crimson?” Syzygy said.
She looked around at the intersection in confusion. “I, um...what street are we on?”
“Yoke Street...?”
“Oh! Right. Silly me,” Crimson said dismissively as she took off down the street in the direction of their home.
He laid a concerned hoof on her shoulder. “Crimson, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, a little too quickly. Syzygy might not be as observant as her, but he had known her long enough to tell when she was lying. He didn’t say anything though; it was best for her to share these things when she was ready.
About halfway back to their apartment, she stopped again at an intersection. She looked around at the street signs, seemingly not recognizing them or the landmarks. She frowned and put a hoof to her forehead.
“Um...Ziggy, could you take us home, please? I’m starting to get a headache, and I’m having trouble concentrating.”
“Sure thing, love,” Syzygy said, then led her the rest of the way back home. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, she set the shopping bags down on the counter and headed for their bedroom.
“My head is killing me. I’m going to go lie down.”
Syzygy was concerned for her, and tempered his worry by busying himself with chores. He put their purchases away, washed the dishes, and folded the laundry. As he was finishing up, he heard Crimson’s hoosteps coming out of the bedroom.
He looked up at her, and was shocked to see that she had been crying.
“Crimson, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice small. “I...I’ve been forgetting things. Today, I...got lost. I didn’t know where I was. It’s like I had forgotten the city I’ve lived in my whole life. And these headaches...something’s wrong with me, Syzygy.”
***
The Maulwurf was a mess.
Syzygy didn’t know what to expect from a mining station 1500 kilometers from the ass-end of nowhere, but he was surprised at how well-kept it was...or had been, until the mercenaries had gotten to it.
His first sight when the shuttle landed at the station’s pads was an airlock door in pieces, crudely cut apart with a beam saw. After the elevator had brought the shuttle down into the hangar and he was led to the control room at the base of the traffic control tower, the carnage got worse. There were no bodies - they at least had the decency to clean those up - but there were pools of drying blood and piles of shell casings strewn everywhere. Somepony had evidently become frustrated enough with a console to put a bullet through its display. He let out an exasperated sigh.
“Sir?” one of the mercenaries asked.
“My mother taught me that if I don’t have anything nice to say, then I shouldn’t say anything at all. So I have nothing to say.”
He could almost see the gears turning in the grunt’s mind as he processed that. Thankfully he was spared having to explain himself by the main viewscreens coming to life with camera feeds from the station’s exterior. There, parked in a semicircle, were half of the shuttles that Syzygy had brought to the moon. Their cargo holds were open, and workers in space suits were busy unloading crates from within and stacking them nearby.
With a ding, the elevator behind him opened to reveal the last pony Syzygy wanted to see at that moment.
“Ugh, I think the environmental controls must be malfunctioning in this scrapheap. It is far too cold up there,” Slipstick complained as he stormed out of the elevator. “Oh! Syzygy, how kind of you to grace us with your presence.”
Syzygy swallowed his retort and stapled a neutral half-smile onto his muzzle. “Yes, I had some issues that required my attention back in the city. But I see that the Armillary project is in capable hooves,” he said, motioning to the work proceeding outside.
“Obviously. Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’ve given me three days to assemble an immensely complicated piece of machinery. I don’t have time for idle chat.”
“Of course,” Syzygy said as he watched the insufferable engineer leave the control room.
“I don’t know how you put up with him,” Blackwater commented.
“All I have to keep in mind is that he is a means to an end. A tool, in more ways than one. I need only to tolerate him until he has outlived his usefulness.”
Blackwater said nothing in response, simply nodding slowly.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I’d like to get some rest. Would anypony happen to know where I might be able to find a place to sleep?”
One of the mercenaries in the room raised his hoof. “Yeah, there are some big, swanky rooms not far from here. I think they’re for the bigwigs or something, ‘cause nopony was livin’ in ‘em. There might be one that the other guys haven’t used yet.”
Syzygy nodded his thanks and left to find the indicated rooms, desperately hoping that “used” wasn’t a euphemism for something. He was able to find the suites in short order which, unsurprisingly, had been co-opted as sleeping quarters for the mercenaries who had managed to bully their fellows into surrendering them. They now resembled university fraternity dorm rooms in regards to cleanliness - and smell - but to his relief one of the rooms at the end had been left relatively unmolested, aside from the lone mercenary lounging on the bed. Upon seeing who had entered his room, the mercenary crashed to the floor in a heap in his haste to come to attention. Syzygy waited patiently for the stallion to collect himself.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“Get out.”
The mercenary blinked in confusion for a few seconds before the order sunk in, and he quickly gathered his vest and weapon before fleeing.
Syzygy watched him go, then locked the door behind him and methodically made the bed before slipping into it. Within short order he was falling into a fitful sleep.
***
“Can you believe this? These doctors are all cowards!” Syzygy hurled his phone against the wall. “It feels like I’ve called every neurosurgeon in the world! None of them will help!”
“Honey, please,” Crimson pleaded from her hospital bed. “Don’t shout. Just be patient, I’m sure it’ll all be alright.”
“I just…I just don’t know what to do.” He turned back to face her. “I’m scared.”
He studied what had become of his wife; the strip on her head where her beautiful bronze mane once was; her once-vibrant fur, patchy and thinning. He looked into her eyes, but she didn’t meet his gaze. She simply stared at him blankly, before glancing around the room in alarm.
“Cr-Crimson?” he whimpered, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Daddy? Daddy, what’s going on? Where are we?”
Syzygy took a deep breath. He needed to be strong for her, so he put on his best fake smile.
“We’re at home, remember? First day of school is tomorrow. Big day, so you’d better get some rest.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her mouth cracked into a yawn. “I am pretty tired.”
He levitated a stuffed whale into her forelegs, then turned off the lights. “There’s Marina to keep you company. Good night.”
“G’night,” she whispered back, then rolled over and settled into her pillows.
Syzygy waited until she was asleep, then left the room and closed the door before he allowed himself to fall apart.
***
Work on the Armillary was proceeding surprisingly quickly; Syzygy was nervous about the expedited timetable, but he had to grudgingly admit that his lead engineer was indeed making considerable progress. Slipstick had kept the work going continuously, rotating the workers in shifts. The shuttles that had been parked outside were gone, replaced by the Armillary’s base and the beginnings of its rings. Scaffolding enveloped the burgeoning structure beneath the harsh glare of construction lights, and sparks from a welder cast strange, flickering shadows.
A large cable snaked along the ground towards the Armillary. Engineers had patched it into one of the station’s fusion reactors; it should provide plenty of power for the machine when it came time to activate it.
***
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“The sculpture,” the guard said, motioning to the large brass mechanism mounted on a marble plinth.
Syzygy looked away from the sculpture. It was nice, objectively speaking, and thematically fitting for the corridor outside of the Princess’ throne room. It was built of two spherical cages of polished brass, one inside the other. As he had been sitting here, he had been able to watch the little models of the Sun and Moon mounted to the cages move around the model of Equus in the center, in concert with their real-life counterparts.
“I guess so.”
The guard seemed unsure of how to proceed, given Syzygy’s current aversion to small talk. After an awkward minute or two, he tried again.
“You know, I overheard a rumor from some of the other guards that it doesn’t just sit there and look nice. That it actually controls the Sun and Moon. Can you believe that?”
Syzygy didn’t respond, but he did think about the implications. The only reason the Princesses needed to be in Canterlot to raise the Sun and Moon every day was to keep the timing consistent, and ensure the planar tilt for the changing of the seasons was correct. A machine could do the same thing with far more ease. The only thing about it that made Syzygy doubt the veracity of the guard’s rumor was the age of the sculpture; by the embossed date on it, it had been built almost two hundred years ago. The only devices that could come close to the power required were the teleportation crystals used for space travel, but those had only been invented within Syzygy’s lifetime.
His thoughts were interrupted by the throne room’s doors opening and another guard trotting out.
“Sy...Size…” the guard butchered his name while frowning at a scroll.
“Syzygy,” he corrected.
“Syzygy. Princess Luna will see you now.”
“Finally,” he muttered to himself, then stood from the hard bench and stretched his legs. He marched into the throne room, the guard falling in and closing the doors behind him.
“I apologize for the wait, Syzygy. I don’t usually have so many ponies who wish to see me.”
Some part of Syzygy noticed that the Princess had pronounced his name perfectly, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” she continued, “exactly how long have you been waiting?”
“Six hours, Your Highness.”
The princess’s eyebrows raised.
“I admire your dedication. What can I help you with?”
“Not me. This isn’t for me.”
“Oh? Who, then?”
He pulled a stack of papers and books out of his saddlebags. “It’s my wife, Your Highness. She’s…sick. Her brain is…she’s got…I’m sorry.”
He took a few breaths and forced the knot out of his throat before continuing.
“My wife is currently suffering from a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer. The tumors are too deep to safely operate on. We’ve been trying countless drugs, radiation, arcanotherapy…but nothing seems to work. This is our last hope.
“My wife is a very talented neurosurgeon, and these papers contain her research into an experimental method of magical surgery. I’ve called every hospital in the country, every medical center in the world, but none of them will attempt it. It’s not…it hasn’t been clinically tested, and they say it’s too dangerous.
“But you…you are one of the most powerful spellcasters in the world. If anypony can do it, I know it’s you. Please, Princess.”
Luna simply regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a few moments.
“Your wife,” she finally said. “What are her thoughts on this?”
“I don’t know. She…she doesn’t know I’m here. B-but I have power of attorney, and I have all the waivers right here--”
“I’m sorry, Syzygy,” she interrupted.
“…what?”
“I’m afraid that I have to refuse.”
Syzygy felt as if the floor had dropped out from under him.
“B-but...Celestia? Even Princess Twilight, I know she was far too busy to see me, but she could maybe--”
“I’m deeply sorry about your wife, but none of us are medical doctors, and we cannot cast unknown spells on ponies without their consent, especially one as experimental and invasive as this.”
He fell to his haunches. “No...no, you can’t…”
“I’m sorry, Syzygy--”
“NO!” he erupted, leaping to his hooves again. “How can you do this to her!? You have no idea, no idea how much she’s suffering. She can’t remember who I am, or all the years we’ve spent together. Some days she thinks she’s six years old! Every day she fades further and further away, and I have to watch! Do you know what that feels like!?”
“Syzygy, I understand--”
“No, you don’t understand! You could never understand! I bet you’ve never loved someone in your entire life!”
“ENOUGH!” Luna’s voice thundered through the throne room. “You know not of what you speak!”
Her rebuttal had made Syzygy realize that he had encroached dangerously close to Luna’s throne. The guards on either side had readied their weapons.
“Now,” the Night Princess continued, at a more reasonable volume, “it would seem that your grief has clouded your judgement. Your wife’s situation is tragic, but there is nothing that I or my sister can do to help. You’re excused.”
The dismissal was as polite as it was unquestionable.
***
A cough from behind tore Syzygy out of another memory. He really needed to keep himself from drifting away like that.
“Morning, sir. Or afternoon. No way to tell time on this damn rock.”
Syzygy turned around to see Blackwater standing there. “There are clocks, you know.”
“Yeah, but the lack of sunlight is messing with my sleep schedule.”
“What do you want?”
“I was just wondering what exactly this thing you’re building is supposed to do.”
Syzygy turned back around to watch the Armillary’s construction. “Have you been to the palace recently?”
“No.”
“In the hall outside the throne room is an elegant sculpture. A clockwork device that mimics the motions of the sun and moon. But it is more than mere artwork; it is a device that Celestia uses to control the heavens, hidden in plain sight. Twilight Sparkle invented it almost two centuries ago.”
“So...you’re building another one?”
“Essentially. I’m just scaling it up a bit. The version in the palace is elegant in its simplicity, but it’s crude by modern standards. It’s powered by clockwork and a little alicorn magic. But this,” he motioned to the construction site on the other side of the viewscreens, “should be capable of casting spells an order of magnitude more powerful.”
“You’re going to move the sun and moon around?”
“Maybe a little. But that would be a waste of its potential. As you’re well aware, Princess Luna is still imprisoned within the moon. I have discovered an ancient ritual to release her.”
“Uh...huh.”
“Just you wait. When this is all over, you’ll be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams...
“And all my sins will be righted,” Syzygy finished to himself.
***
Syzygy had no idea how long he had been awake this time. Two, three days? It didn’t matter. Sleep, when he allowed it, was brief and fitful. It was a distraction, its only purpose to give him enough energy to continue his studies. Crimson had slipped into a coma. He didn’t know how much time she had left.
Crimson had kept all of her medical textbooks, and he had read every one. Then he had gone to the library and read as many books on magic theory he could get his hooves on. Only then did he feel like he was ready.
After uncounted weeks of study, Syzygy finally began to read his wife’s research. It was, quite simply, genius. A perfect blend of spellcrafting and neurology, combining known principles of each, and adding some groundbreaking concepts. It should allow incredibly precise surgical work on a pony’s most sensitive organ, on a cellular level.
It was perfect, and it was her only chance.
He was a familiar face at the hospital where his wife was staying, so the receptionist let him pass without a second glance. Very few staff ever came to check on her, even when visiting hours had ended and the curtains around her bed were drawn. It wasn’t difficult to hide in her room and wait for the lights in the hallways to be dimmed.
It was only slightly harder to spirit her away to a nearby veterinary clinic, whose owner he had made...financial agreements with. The doctor, however, seemed to disagree with their arrangements as soon as Syzygy laid Crimson onto the operating table.
“Oh, no. No, no no! This is not what I agreed to!”
Syzygy glared at the veterinarian. “I thought you said ‘no questions asked.’”
“I thought it would be just...patching up a bullet wound or something. You know, like in the movies. I didn’t know you’d be operating on somepony else in my clinic!”
Syzygy stepped closer to the vet and pinned him under his gaze. “If you do anything to hinder me, I will make the rest of your life a waking nightmare. Am I perfectly clear?” he said calmly.
The vet said nothing, only nodded quickly and fled the operating room.
Syzygy turned back to the table where Crimson lay. The procedure would be long and complicated, and would require a steady horn and unparalleled concentration. But he was ready. He had to be.
Slowly, almost reverently, he picked up a scalpel in his magic and made the first incision.