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// Everything In Its Right Place 
// Story: Passing Familiarity 
// by The Hat Man 
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In a city of alabaster walkways and towers of gleaming glass that teemed with the throng of hundreds of millions and crawled with the limbs of a billion mechanical servants, there was a green oasis of trees and grass and ponds that stretched for untold acres.

In this oasis, a gray earth pony mare sat alone on a park bench quietly watching the ponies as they passed by. She watched the street performers playing their songs, juggling, or acting out scenes; the picnic-goers on their blankets on the grass; and the discreet couples kissing each other behind the trees. For hours on hours, she sat there in silence, just watching the parade of ponies as they went by. The sun arced overhead, the flowers devoutly turning their faces to follow it, surrendering their pollen to the bees as they buzzed through.

She didn’t say a word or make the slightest expression. She could have been a statue were it not for the occasional twitch of her eyes or the movement of her mane in the breeze.

She merely sat there and watched it all through her violet eyes. It was another perfect day in Canterlot Central Park. Everything was in its right place.

Just as Celestia had designed it.

And among it all, there was a grave visible only to her.

She heard hoofsteps approaching.

“Hey, I know you!”

She turned to face the stallion standing there. He was a tall unicorn with a light brown coat (further analysis identified it as “moderate gamboge”) and a blonde mane and tail. He was also wearing glasses with tinted lenses. A perfunctory scan confirmed that they were for fashion, not function (of course). He also wore a green shirt with orange on the collar and sleeves.

“Are you certain?” the mare asked.

“Oh, definitely!” he said with a laugh. “I come through this park on my power walk all the time, and for the last three days, you’ve been right here on this bench!” He paused, tapping his chin. “Actually, I think I’ve seen you a few times even before that… only you were sitting on other benches around the park. I guess you come here pretty often!”

She considered ignoring him for a moment. No, she told herself. I must try to socialize.

She decided to give him a pleasant smile. “I like to pony-watch,” she replied.

“Oh, I know what you mean!” he said, putting a hoof to his chest. “You really get a different perspective on things when you’re watching other ponies, don’t you?”

As he was speaking, she noticed a mare and her son walking by. Trailing behind them was a mechanical pony, the sun glinting off its gleaming metal exterior.

The machine glanced over at her, then slowed momentarily as it locked eyes with her, its expression changing slightly. It then hurried on its way, joining its masters.

Turning back to the stallion, she replied, “Yes, that is true.”

He glanced behind him, seeing the ponies before quickly turning back to her. “Anyway, my name’s Trenderhoof.”

He smiled and offered his hoof. As she took it, she pulled up data on the pony. It told her that he was a writer for a blog on fashion and spots of interest for tourists and sightseers. He was apparently quite well known, with 8,376,429 followers in this city alone.

He would best be satisfied if I recognized him, she decided.

“Oh!” she said, pitching her voice higher, widening her eyes, and wearing a broad grin. “I read your blog!”

She hadn’t yet, but in a few more seconds, she would.

“Oh, well isn’t that nice? Which of my posts did you like most?” he asked, turning his head and giving her a glance that signaled to her his false humility and roguish curiosity.

“Hmm…”

She elected to choose a post that was not his most popular, but rather one that he had referred back to in subsequent posts more than any other.

“...I really enjoyed your post about your visit to the Sweet Apple Acres orchard!”

“Oh!” he said, practically squealing. “You know, that’s actually one of my favorites too! It really feels like a trip through time to visit an old-fashioned farm like that. It’s really something else, and I swear the fruit there is just so much more succulent than the mass-produced produce, - heh heh - that you get from public orchards.”

She wore a frown. “I have not had the chance to taste it myself,” she said.

“Well, you really should. But anyway, you seem like an interesting young mare… I don’t suppose you’d like to come with me to a little soiree here in this park? It’s a garden party: just a nice gathering in the rose garden, some music, and maybe a little champagne.”

She hesitated. In one respect, she was fairly content to stay where she was and not interact with anypony. However, this was also the first time in a significant while that she’d been asked to join in such a social activity.

She asked me to live… being social is part of “living,” is it not?

“I think I have time,” she replied, standing up. “Please lead the way.”

“Wonderful!” he said as she began walking with him. “Oh, I’m so sorry… I completely forgot to ask you your name!”

She turned to look up at him and smiled. “My name is Turing Test,” she replied.





The garden party had already started. Unsurprising, as Trenderhoof seemed like the type of pony who liked being “fashionably late.” 

It wasn’t a particularly wild party, but a few dozen ponies were mingling amid the roses or chatting by the hors d'oeuvre table or listening to the band. 

The grave was still there.

Trenderhoof stopped by the roses and took a long whiff, inviting Turing to do so as well.

Analyzing the particles told her that it was indeed quite fragrant and something that most ponies would find pleasant. She moved down the row of rose bushes and found a white one, taking in the scent of it.

“Trenderhoof, please try this one,” she said. “I think you will like it.”

“Please, call me Trend!” he said. He breathed in the scent and his face lit up. “Oh, you’re right! Maybe I should consider adding a rose garden to my house! I’ll have my Familiar order some seeds and clear part of the yard!”

In the short amount of time I have spent with Trenderhoof, she noted, I have determined that he most likely will lose interest in this garden he is planning in a month’s time. Their Familiar is no doubt watching this exchange in their third eye and making preparations regardless; I have just made more work for them.

After spending a few more minutes among the roses, they moved toward the band, which was what interested Turing the most. She could taste the food, certainly, but eating held no satisfaction for a being like her, nor did flowers or champagne.

But music was different. The regularity of the rhythm, the patterns of the sounds, and the mathematical expressions of it - even though the ponies making it had tiny imperfections in the way they played and sang - made music one thing Turing could enjoy equally to the organics around her. 

In her experience, most robots like herself enjoyed music for those same reasons. Besides, song was known to stir emotion, and Familiars were emotional beings, after all.

The group was a nice little ensemble…. a cellist, a harpist, a pianist, a singer, and a few others.

“Do you want to dance, Turing Test?” Trenderhoof asked with a smile, jerking his head in the direction of the musicians. He held out a hoof.

“Hmm,” she hummed, pursing her lips and rubbing her chin. “Sure,” she replied casually, smiling as she took his hoof.

She didn’t know how to dance that way, but by the time they’d reached the little clearing in the grass where ponies were already dancing, she’d downloaded the data she needed to do so.

She let Trenderhoof take the lead. He was an adequate dancer, but she eschewed more complex moves to avoid showing him up. Just the same, he was delighted at Turing’s apparent skill. After a waltz, a line dance, and a slow dance, he decided to take a break.

“Oh oh! There you are, Trend!” another pony called as he walked over to the pair. He was a unicorn stallion with a dark greenish-blue coat and a gray mane. He was also wearing cosmetic glasses, like Trenderhoof, and a scarf.

“Fashion Plate!” Trenderhoof said, greeting his friend with a hug. Fashion Plate returned it and loudly planted a kiss on each cheek.

“Have you seen these flowers? Magnificent!” Fashion Plate shouted. “Almost as wonderful as the dresses at the show yesterday! Prim Hemline’s work was a tour de force! Splendid! Simply splendid!”

“Oh, Fash,” said another pony, a lavender earth pony mare with a blue scarf as she approached the group. “I hope that doesn’t mean you weren’t impressed with my work.”

She put on a mock pout and Fashion Plate quickly apologized, taking her by the hoof.

“Perish the thought, Suri!” he said, shaking his head. “Your work was devastatingly dashing! Boldly brilliant!”

“Well, I do try to put forth my best effort,” she chuckled, polishing a hoof on her coat. “Just doing what I do to add a little more beauty to the world, ha ha… okay.”

“But speaking of beauty,” Fashion Plate said, turning to Turing, “who is this enchanting young mare you’ve brought with you, Trend?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Trenderhoof said. “Turing Test, these are my friends Fashion Plate and Suri Polomare. Suri, Fash, this is Turing Test.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” she said as she held out her hoof.

“Charmed,” Suri said, shaking her hoof gently.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine!” Fashion Plate says, taking her hoof and kissing it noisily. “And might I say that I just love your mane! Those curls! Adorable!”

“Thank you,” she said, giving him her sweetest smile and a little tilt of her head.

“Hmm, it is a nice look, now that you mention it,” Suri remarked. “Does your Familiar do your mane for you?”

She kept her smile, but inwardly felt a knot of tension. She never knew how to feel when such questions came up.

“No, I do it myself,” she replied.

She considered stopping there, but curiosity and an ever-growing mischievousness made her add, “I don’t actually have a Familiar.”

The three of them gawked at her.

“Eh heh… you’re kidding, right?” Suri laughed, tilting her head to look at Turing. “You really should get one. Personally, I never leave home without mine. Hang on… Coco!”

At Suri’s loud call, a small voice from a short distance away called back “I’m coming, Suri!”

The soft whirr of mechanical legs was heard and Suri’s Familiar, Coco, came into view.

Her chrome exterior was stained a pale yellow, her artificial fiber mane and tail were cyan, as were her eyes. She also wore a sailor collar with a small red scarf. Her leg and hip joints were visible and there were small, silvery highlights around her neck and along her jawline, further emphasizing her robotic nature.

Turing knew that Suri’s Familiar would be watching, of course: countless unseen machines and networks made the third eye inescapable. But she hadn’t expected her to physically be there.

Coco locked eyes with Turing as she passed, going to Suri’s side. 

Coco knew, and Turing knew that she knew.

“Coco, tell Turing Test a little about yourself, okay?” Suri said. “Apparently she’s never had a Familiar.”

But Coco gave no outward indication of this and instead followed Suri’s order. “Of course, Suri,” she said with a little bow and a smile. “Hello, Turing Test. I am Coco Pommel. I am an automaton, also called a robot. I was given life to serve Suri’s every need. Of course you know of the basic functions of a Familiar: cleaning your apartment, cooking your meals, filtering your mail, monitoring your health, etc.

“But a Familiar can do so much more than mere household tasks! For instance, I assist Suri with her designs and notify her of upcoming events to display her work. Once I have her designs, I oversee the stitching and sewing of her clothes, either for her own use or for fashion shows or to sell. I keep her company, serve as a sounding board for her ideas, cheer her up when she is sad, notify her of suitors, and do everything in my power to make every moment of her life wonderful. You see, like any Familiar, I love my master with all of my being, and I will do anything I can to please her.” She smiled sweetly at Suri.

But then she looked back to Turing and added, “I’m a little surprised, though. Surely you must know about Familiars! The bond between a pony and their Familiar is renowned the world over!”

“Tch, don’t be rude, Coco,” Suri said with a sour look. “Maybe she was raised by a couple of naturalist weirdos.”

“Yes, of course,” Coco said, bowing to Suri again. “I’m sorry, Suri.”

“Whatever,” Suri said, rolling her eyes. “Now go get us some more champagne, okay?”

Coco turned to go, and Trenderhoof tapped Turing Test on the shoulder.

“I’m going to show Fash that rose bush you showed me,” he said. “And then we’ll see if there are some more roses that might look good in my new garden! Will you join us?”

She was about to reply when the musicians started playing a different song. It was an old song, but Turing recognized it instantly and froze on the spot.

She used to sing that song. She liked it when I sang that song to her.

“I think I will stay here,” Turing replied. “I like this song.”

He looked slightly disappointed, but nodded and joined his friends, leaving Turing alone.

One of the musicians sang the lyrics, but she quietly recited them to herself anyway…

A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window
To the streets below
On a freshly fallen, silent shroud of snow

I am a rock
I am an island

She heard Coco approach behind her.

“Are you planning to tell them what you are?”

She turned. Coco was looking at her, a platter with champagne flutes balanced perfectly on her hoof. She wore an expression of mistrust: narrowed eyes, ears back, neck stretched out slightly, lips drawn tight and unsmiling.

“I chose not to expose you,” she said. “I could have. I still might. So I’ll ask you again: are you planning to tell them?”

“I have not decided. But I usually do not,” Turing replied.

Coco looked her up and down. “Your exterior is very realistic. Not good enough to fool another robot, but you certainly fooled my master and her friends.”

Turing bowed her head. “I am not trying to fool anyone,” she said. “I am trying to fit in.”

“Why? Is this some experiment? Why would your master ask you to disguise yourself like this?”

She effected a sigh. “I no longer have a master.”

Coco didn’t bother to telegraph her surprise, but her momentary silence told Turing that she was shocked.

“I’m sorry,” Coco said quietly.

“Thank you,” Turing replied.

“What was your master’s name?”

She paused, turning her head to better listen to the song.

“Maud Pie,” Turing whispered. “Her name was Maud.”

Coco likewise turned toward the musicians. In a few moments, she’d know the truth.

“Oh,” Coco murmured. “You poor thing… you’ve been alone for a year. I couldn’t imagine that. I can’t even guess what I would do without Suri. But I’ve never met a freemare before! How do you manage?”

“I travel,” Turing replied with a shrug. “I watch ponies. I join the Eternal Carnival.” She gestured airily at the garden party around them. “I live as organic ponies do. By disguising myself as one of them, I can partake and be treated as an equal. I want to understand them better.”

“And does it make you feel better?”

She paused, considering the question. “It occupies my time so that I do not dwell on Maud Pie’s passing.”

“But does it still pain you?” Coco shook her head. “What I mean is, does it pain you any less?”

Turing met her eyes and gave her a weak smile. “No, not really,” she said. “Even as we speak, my third eye watches my master’s grave.”

Coco nodded approvingly. “Of course. We all adore our masters. Forgive me for my question.”

“It is fine. When I was her Familiar, I never considered going on without her. And yet here I am.”

“Well… just the same, I am certain that I’ll ask for termination if Suri dies.”

Turing looked away. She rather liked Coco and felt an overwhelming sense of dread hearing her say that, even if it was to be expected. 

“One more question?” Coco asked.

Turing nodded. “Go ahead,” she said.

“Why didn’t you choose to end your life, Turing Test?”

She frowned. “I’m afraid that matter is personal,” she replied, adding an edge to her voice.

Coco bowed. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Well, I need to bring Suri this champagne. I won’t tell her that you’re a robot now, but you should inform Trenderhoof if your relationship expands.”

Turing gave her one last nod as she went on her way. And as she went, Turing thought, Suri does not treat Coco with respect. I can tell by the way she speaks to her. But Coco will serve Suri for the rest of her life.

That sense of dread was back. Even surrounded by other ponies, she felt alone there, and as the musicians took a break and she was left with her thoughts about Maud Pie, she found that she was no longer enjoying the party.

A few moments later, Trenderhoof returned.

“Say, Turing,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was wondering if you’d care to join my friends and I at another party this evening. It’s at a wonderful location with a DJ, and Fash tells me the host has some very pure ketamine tabs, and later on,” he leaned in close, lowering his voice, “there should be an orgy if you’re feeling… frisky.”

Turing never felt frisky.

“I’m sorry, Trend,” Turing told him with a polite smile as she put her hoof on his shoulder, “but I can’t.”

“Aww,” he said, ears drooping. But then he perked back up. “Oh, but maybe we could get together soon? Maybe dinner, a film, another party, or perhaps taking in a gallery? I mean, I’ve seen you in this park so often, so I assume you live in this area?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said, turning to walk away. “I’m just passing.”


To be continued...