//------------------------------// // 1988, 9999: 12 // Story: They're EVERYWHERE! // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// It’s barely morning as the first rays of sunlight pierce the tree canopy after the encounter with the ‘the biggest shiny’, and all drones are watching 1988’s horn shimmer green as he digs through 9999’s memories of the wild last night. As they all know, it’ll still be nearly two hours before the lumber camp ponies set off to work so right now it’s still time to rest. On the other hole, a thing is happening, so their natural curiosity doesn’t allow them to just drift off again. “Hmmm,” 1988’s horn finally goes dim and he rubs his chin. “Errfin flls nummm…” 9999’s eyes cross as it keels over on the soft grass. None of the other drones move, as their links tell them that 9999 is okay, just tired from the detailed examination of its mind. Several of them are familiar with the process of high ranks obtaining information from drones and while normally there used to be about fifty-fifty chance of the drone being confused for the rest of their rapidly shortened life back home, 9999 was adamant about doing this and 1988 looked careful as he did his thing. “I’ll be frank, our situation isn’t good,” says 1988 after some thought, “But you did a remarkably good job at leading the ponies away. Hole, I’ve known warriors who would have panicked and ran off straight back here with them in tow. Extremely well done, 9999.” A round of applause bursts out from the previously sleepy drones, all of them suddenly alive and straight up jumping up and down. “WOOO!” “Yaaaaay!” “Go, High Score! Go High Score!” “CELEBRATION PILE!”  1988 raises an eyebrow as the drones jump on each other. “Ughhh…” 9999 sits up, blinking out of sync. 1988 clops his forelegs together loudly to draw the drones’ attention and receives a bunch of teal pairs of eyes locked on himself. “Does this basic praise really mean so much to you?” he asks. *Nod nod nod!* “I can expl-uhhh,” 9999 moans, “...why am I so loud…?” “No need,” 1988 shakes his head and pats 9999, “I think I’m starting to understand you guys, whether I want to or not,” he stands up and walks over to the drone pile, “All of you did a great job. Your ability to gain genuine affection would put some infiltrators to shame.” He continues, patting the head of each individual drone: “36658, I’m not about to call you a drug dealer, but without you we would have had a much tougher time healing all of us.” “57999, well, you supported 36658 and you helped ponies chill out with your drugs so that they would accept us easier.” “20100, where others connected to adults, you found your niche with the few foals here and, hopefully, you’ll bring your moving pictures back home in some capacity and they’ll catch on.” “17070, you sacrificed your health to prove- try to prove that you can learn more than just digging, and found a pony who appreciates you. You might not see Ladle’s emotions like I do, but you sure got under her skin, in a good way.” “Umm, and you too, Silent. You might not have connected with ponies like the others, but you guarded this place which allowed them to go out and do their thing.” With all drones, aside from the Silent who is still watching his hoof after having its head stroked, completely stunned and staring at him slack-jawed, 1988 starts pacing. “...I’m never washing this head again…” whispers someone. “...you have a different one? You can’t have another one…” “...you don’t know that!” “...that’s illegal! The Queen said so…” “...no, she didn’t!” “...she did!” “...nu uh…” “...uh huh…” “However,” 1988 raises his voice instead of facehoofing, preferably with a heavy rock, “we can’t get complacent. As 9999 just showed me, there are ponies on our track. It managed to lure them away but I don’t want to underestimate them. I think I’m the only one here who can have a look around without being spotted in case they didn’t get fooled completely, so I’ll have to check the area myself. That means 9999 will have to be the hive mind node until I return.” “My head…” 9999 groans. “I’m planning around it, don’t worry,” 1988 continues without looking at it, “Everyone, you’ll have until two o’clock to do your usual business - help ponies, gain love. Afterwards, you’re to come back here. 9999, you’ll stay here for now. I have something else for you to do that won’t cause you another headache. Any questions? No? Good.” *** 17070 finds Swirling Ladle earlier than usual today. The cook is currently busy sorting plates and cups in preparation for breakfast. “Hello!” says the drone with a smile, “Can I help you?” “Good morning, little number,” she smiles back and gives the drone a hug, “You’re up early today.” “Can you point, Miss Ladle?” 17070 tilts its head once the hug is over, “I still can’t hear you.” “Straight to the point, I see,” Ladle chuckles, “I was just about to set the table for breakfast,” she points at the table and, one by one, at the tableware, “One plate, one cup, one spoon.” 17070 nods happily before asking: “Oh, one more thing! Uhh, how to say that?” it looks around before pointing at a large, flat stump for chopping wood, “Where can I find something like that? I want to try making things but we don’t have a flat spot at our camp.” “Hmmm,” she scratches her head, “You know what? Help me set the tables first and I’ll ask somepony later,” she points at the table. 17070 gets it after a brief thought. A trade. Simple. It does a thing, it gets… something.  *** “1988?” “Yes?” the infiltrator, sitting in the center of the now empty changeling clearing and replaying 9999’s memories in his head for anything he might have missed, opens his eyes. “What if those armed ponies find us?” 9999 voices the question 1988 doesn’t have a perfect answer for, “I mean, the ponies here didn’t chase us away only because they didn’t know about Canterlot. The armed ones recognized what I was immediately.” “We might not even get a chance to talk,” 1988 nods, “I know. I’ve been thinking about it since this morning. Any ideas?” “What? From me?” 9999 leans back. “Sure, why not?” “I mean… we drones don’t really have any options when high ranks come to get us,” 9999 hangs its head, “But if we did… I think we’d run as fast and as far as we could and make a tunnel or something there. Or we’d stay here and hope the ponies here like us enough to make sure we could talk.” “If you did run then you’d probably starve. We had incredible luck to find a place as far away from current events as this,” 1988 finishes the thought, “Option two - if we stayed, the trackers came, and then told the ponies here what happened it would be too late to run.” “Yeah, sorry,” 9999 shakes its head, “I don’t know enough to help here. Buuut if we have to run, what about the group that left with the cocoons? They’ll be returning straight here.” 1988 blinks several times. “Ahh, holes… I got so caught up with our situation that I completely forgot,” he grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and then breathes out. “What was that for?” asks 9999, “Another infiltrator trick?” “A pony trick, in fact. It helps to slow your head down. Try it when you need to think,” replies 1988, “Okay, I think I’ve got it.” Several places on the area map light up in 9999’s head as the drone does the breathing trick, which is followed by a series of symbols and pictures. “We are…” 9999 tries to understand, “Oh! We’re making marks that only changelings will understand somewhere where they’re likely to pass through on their way back so that they have the time to turn away. We do that as drones in dangerous sections of the tunnels too!” “You will be making the marks I showed you. I wanted to let you rest, but we must be ready. I’ll have a chat with Sawtooth and inform him that I received a divine sign or something that our pilgrimage might be ready for the next step.” *** The promised two o’clock arrives, and 1988 checks his hive links because 9999 still hasn’t come back. However, he senses that the drone is on its way and will return by the time his own hive link is out of reach for the drones.  “I’m coming!” calls out 17070, barely visible through the line of trees separating the changeling clearing from the lumber camp, and chomps down on something before continuing to drag it with its mouth. With everyone accounted for, 1988 simply says: “9999 will be here soon. You wait until I get back. I might come late but we’ll know where we stand.” As the sound of his hoofsteps disappears, the gathered drones turn to the most interesting thing on the menu, which turns out to be 17070 dragging a stump of its own size by a root in its mouth. Seeing that, the drones surround it and 20100, as the highest rank present, mentally asks: “Where are we pulling that?” 17070 points at a spot near the center of the clearing, and in only a short moment the stump is set up in a freshly-dug shallow hole, its roots covered with dirt. “So what’s it for?” “For prepping things,” replies 17070, patting a rather large pouch on a string around its neck, “I’ll show you later. Can you make a firepit?”  “Sounds dangerous…” “No, that’s the circle of rocks ponies have in their camp. Small shiny lives there, but to stop it from running away you gotta clean the place up and surround it with rocks.” “On it!” Contrary to expectations, there’s nothing more productive than a bunch of bored drones with a higher amount of love than ‘starvation’, and they all scatter in search of proper rocks. After all, 1988 didn’t exactly define that ‘here’ meant ‘only this exact clearing’. It will be fine.  17070 empties the contents of the borrowed pouch, revealing those to be broken and bent pieces of rusting metal as well as a much smaller pouch. A quick look around later, which reveals a stoic Silent watching it, it darts off back to the pony camp as quickly as it can. After all, 1988’s main concern was that they should be within range of hive links and his is still easily accessible. It will probably be within the scope of current standing orders. Soon enough, 17070 returns, the big pouch having safely been returned to ponies. “Good job keeping an eye on things,” it smiles at the Silent who, to its surprise, returns a barely noticeable smile… or maybe the corner of its mouth just curls up in an attempt to mimic 17070’s expression. Without any way to communicate it’s hard to tell. *** 9999 finally returns to the camp, thankful for a chance to rest as the dull pressure on its head starts taking its toll on its stamina again. However, it does feel easier to bear this time, as if part of the drone was adapting to being a hive mind node. “Hey, guys!” it greets the drones, each busy examining various items ranging from sticks and rocks to particularly colorful leaves and even an almost eye-sized shard of glass, “Whoah! Where did you get that?” 20100 replies instead of the new and proud owner of the shard. “I got it from Magic Lantern. It’s a piece of thingy he called a lens from a potty corona or… uhh, something like that. He didn’t need that anymore so he just gave it to me, can you believe it? It makes shinies dance and he just gave it away! Ponies are weird,” it shakes its head, “57999 traded four particularly round rocks for it. Look, they all fit into cup holders!” 20100 raises both its now filled forelegs to demonstrate. “Still a fantastic deal,” adds 57999, raising the shard of glass to catch a ray of light coming through the canopy, “If I turn it this way up, it makes the light thinner. And the other way - boom!- wider.” “Neeeeat!” 9999 trots over to have a look before glancing at one drone with its back turned to the others, “What’s 17070 doing on that stump?” “It said it’s a surprise and that we’re not to look, but we helped it make a circle of stones for the fire shiny to live in. It was so busy it didn’t even join in trading.” “Gotcha,” 9999 nods and simply plops itself on the grass, rubbing its temples. “Ah! Speaking of trading,” 36658 slaps its forehead, “High Score, we did all our trading without you. You wanna redo it? I mean, you didn’t have a shot at getting the shiny changer.” 9999 smiles, shaking its head. “You know what? I think I’ll pass this time. You did your best to get your shiny changer, and I was so busy with the things 1988 wanted from me that I didn’t even have time to find anything that you guys might want.” The drones look at it. The drones ponder the situation. The drones exchange looks. The drones nod. “We can give you something,” 36658 offers, “I mean, it would be tiny bits but you’re the Shiny Bringer! You’d for sure be able to trade them for something valuable in a way we wouldn’t think of.” “Yeah!” the other drones cheer. Seeing the complete trust in their eyes, 9999 smiles and shakes its head. “You haggled hard for what you got. Keep it, you deserve it. I’m just happy that you’re all happy.” 36658 beams and throws its forelegs into the air. “The Shiny Bringer doesn’t need shinies and trinkets, IT IS THE SHINY!” “Woooo!” the others cheer. Even 17070, listening through the hive link of someone else, lets out a busy wooo without looking up from its stump. There’s one exception. No, it’s not the Silent. 20100 walks up to 9999 and after some hesitation opens its mouth. “Do… you not like us anymore?” 9999 leans back as if physically struck. “What? Of course I like all of you. Why would you even think that?” “I mean, you don’t want to trade, you’re always busy, and… you just feel different,” 20100 hangs its head, “Sorry.” It flinches as 9999 pulls it into a hug. “Guys, as I said - I’m proud of you. All of you. You survived contact with ponies, you gained the amount of love no drones ever had, you recovered from wounds that normally had us eaten or sent to the crusher. We’ll get through this, we’ll get home, and then we’ll… then we’ll…” 20100 slowly pushes 9999 away and shuffles a few steps backwards. “Do we really want to go back home?” it asks quietly. With a round of muted gasps, 20100 is now the center of everyone’s attention. It looks around, “What? You were all thinking it!” “Well… yeah, but thinking it doesn’t get you instantly minced,” admits 57999. And everything would have been fine if it just didn’t add, “But you don’t say that, especially in front of a high r-” it clamps its forelegs on its mouth, but it’s too late. 9999’s eyes have already teared up, and yet the hurt look coupled with its mouth slightly open from raw shock is still second to the sudden feeling of detachment from its body. When the feeling in 9999’s body returns, the drone feels something it barely ever had felt before. Drones, in general, are aware of their lot in life, knowing there is no change, so genuine anger is tough to find. I saved some of you at least TWICE back home. Here, I was the one 156 sent to die during the first contact if the ponies were hostile. I was the one who saved 1988 from a nightmarish monster. I was here when 1988 was gone, barely holding on in agony when I had to hold the hive mind together. I was the one running away from ponies and fighting a monster last night. 9999 takes a deep breath and counts to ten. And I’m the one who does it because I love you, guys, and because no one else will give a damn if we die. Not a single real high rank will care or even remember what killed us so that they’d warn the next drone who does the job. 9999 blinks away the tears as it walks over to 57999… …and pats the terror-frozen drone’s head. “I’ll think of something, guys,” says 9999, “I promise.”