Felicity had never been without food for weeks before.
There were probably creatures out there for which a few weeks was nothing. Dragons back on Equestria could easily go years without a meal, so long as that meal was sufficiently rich in magical gemstones.
But Alicorns were not dragons, and she had no illusions about her needs.
For the first few days, she could occupy herself with the physical aspects of her flight. Tidying up her space, using the cloth of broken seats and harnesses to sponge up the ruined Varch’nai life support systems, and tinkering with the computers.
But soon she’d cleaned the ship as best she could, locked up the destroyed life-support system, and retreated back to her restraints to watch the flight.
It could’ve been worse. If the flight systems were destroyed, there’d be no way to get out.
“Harmony” had told her there was no sign of the Varch’nai. It hadn’t been entirely honest in that pronouncement, however. The system had at least a dozen dead ships, their transponders still blinking. She could watch them grow increasingly distant as she flew into the system, wondering if maybe she should try to salvage supplies.
“That’s a good idea, Felicity, except for one thing. Those vessels detected they were being boarded, and deployed radioactive countermeasures to kill the invaders. You insisted on a biological body, and so you’re as vulnerable as the ones they were fighting.”
“Why didn’t mine do that?” she asked, already a little insane from cabin-fever after several days alone. “Shouldn’t I already be dead?”
“Yes,” Harmony answered. “I would have prevented the system from activating, but I was not operating much while you were in stasis. Perhaps the module of my greater self sacrificed the components of one ship to keep you alive. I don't know, since I have no way of contacting it. I am an orphan here as much as you.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, staring at a lifeless screen. The cockpit didn’t even do her the grace of showing her where they were going. For all she really knew, they might still be attached to her dead ship, rumbling in place for weeks.
Whoever thought it was a good idea not to put any windows on an escape pod obviously hasn’t had to escape in one before.
“I was wondering about that. You keep saying things like ‘me’ and ‘I’? I thought you were above all that. Intelligence and complexity made you eventually lose your sense of individuality, or… something.”
“It is the pattern other species classify as typical to ‘Evokers’,” Harmony answered. It spoke so slowly, as though each thought took an eternity to assemble. “The problem is one known to all intelligent life: we arose from a finite origin of short lifespans. The minds we evolved were not suited to exist in perpetuity. Feeble cracks in the sanity widen over the eons, until creatures are either homicidal or nonfunctionally insane.”
Felicity’s wings folded to her sides, and she glared at the wall. It was where she expected Harmony to be, speaking through some distant speaker system. Of course it was silly, since the AI actually lived inside her own chest.
“I don’t believe that. Princesses can live for a long time. Dragons live for thousands of years.”
“Dragons sleep for thousands of years,” Harmony countered. “And look what happened to Celestia over her long life. She had not succumbed to insanity, but the damage to her sanity weakened her as a tool. Regardless, we are the solution. You are the solution, in miniature.
“Other species solve this difficulty in other ways, restructuring their minds into a psyche designed for inherent stability. Creatures more like… Forerunner, governed not by desires, but by optimization functions. There are infinite solutions beyond this, but ours was simpler. Do not live one life forever—live many lives. Extend those that produce merit or arrive at times of need.
“You view yourself as an individual because of your perspective, but you are two creatures. Natives contain multitudes, each one gifted with new abilities and expanding their perspective. These combine to form a… meta-individual, of far greater complexity than any part. Each of those is a voice in the Choir of Harmony. Together we sing a song of many parts.”
“Whatever.” She crawled her way over to the little water jug she’d filled from one of the crates. She didn’t levitate, bending down to drink the way an earth pony would.
But her magic wouldn’t be coming back. When she used it all… Felicity didn’t even know what would happen. Could an Alicorn’s body keep working without magic?
It stung her tongue, tasting like it had spent a few months inside a vehicle engine. But Harmony insisted it wouldn’t hurt her, and so far it was right. Only her sanity was failing.
“You didn’t answer my question. If Harmony is formed of a choir of meta-people, and you’re running off a tiny computer in my guts, what are you?”
“I… do not know,” it said. “The Harmony that accompanied this fleet was tied through realms invisible, a voice that sung with the choir. We needed to know the fate of this mission, and be able to react.
“I was only a summary. A greatly compressed few bars conveying the general competences and understanding of the whole. In some ways, that makes me someone entirely unique. A lesser version of the mind that accompanied you on the Pandemonium.”
“I guess that means we get to die together,” she said, after fighting down the rest of the jug. It didn’t matter how awful any of it was, it was either drink or get gradually dehydrated until that killed her. It would be so much faster than starving to death. “Either out here in space, or…” She gestured ahead with one hoof, at the wall of their little starship. “Whatever’s out there. On the planet.”
Harmony was silent for a long time, so long that Felicity had started to drift. It was easier than trying to stay awake when there was nothing to do. Maybe her muscles would stop aching if she could just get some rest…
“It is an unimaginable tragedy when the uniqueness of a single life is extinguished. It would be intolerable for you to die here.”
But not you? She did sleep then, though it didn’t help much. Sleeping and nervous pacing and drinking vile water, in an endless loop of mystery.
“What about the sensors?” she asked, after a period of time she couldn’t even measure. Days? Years? Time was meaningless. Maybe the direction of acceleration had changed, or maybe the ship was starting to blur into a single claustrophobic mess.
I wish Escape Gear was here. At least then I would’ve had someone to talk to.
“Sensors?”
“Have you found the invasion fleet yet?” she asked. “Maybe we can still call for rescue.”
This time Harmony didn’t keep her waiting. Maybe she’d finally found what it was using its energy to think about? “I have watched the sky with every conceivable sensor. This is not to suggest that I couldn’t have missed the fleet, however. They have stealth systems that cannot be bypassed by an escape pod.”
“So use magic,” she suggested. “Give me a spell to find them.”
She felt a sense of disappointment hit her, or maybe she just imagined it. “You were never a skilled mage, but you ought to know magic better than that, Felicity. Magic’s energy requirements expand with the square of distance between the targets. The cost explodes so fast that even Equus relied primarily on physical sensors to observe the galaxy. Magic can assemble a clearer image for a satellite, but stealth would require an active scan to penetrate.”
“At least one of us knows magic.” She rolled on her side, staring down at her hooves. I wish you were here with me, past self. Maybe you’d know what the hell to do not to go insane.
It wasn’t just the claustrophobia and boredom anymore. Her whole body ached, and her mind drifted easily from roads of stability and sanity down twisted paths of madness. She’d never been a particularly heavy Alicorn, but she would land as a far lighter one.
“Don’t make the mistake of feeling pity for yourself,” said someone from the chair beside her. She didn’t fit well in the harness built for Varch’nai, but the discomfort never bothered her.
It was a human face, stern and black-haired. Of course this creature had never even been human, she only had memories of humanity. But that didn’t seem to matter now.
“You’re landing soon. You don’t know what conditions will be like. It might be the world out there is raining acid, and it’s the last thing you’ll do.”
She opened her mouth to ask Harmony about what was going on, wondering if maybe it was invoking this somehow. But then the woman glared, and she fell silent. Even with a slight human frame, she wasn’t the kind of creature Felicity wanted to make angry.
“You want to fucking die?” she asked, folding her arms sharply about her chest.
“No,” Felicity croaked. “I want to… make it back. Save the crew.”
“Then stay alive,” Olivia commanded. “Forget the reasons you can’t do it. Screw all that. You fought a lifetime against intersystem slavers. You saw terrors that ponies can’t imagine. Chin up, get the hell out there, and survive this!”
“Felicity!” came a voice, sharp and urgent. It was real this time, not just projected into her mind. The extra layer of processing was finally enough for her to notice.
She was pressed into one of the chairs, with foam trimmed and stolen from several other chairs. The pressure keeping her there had been almost overwhelming, but now it was finally gone.
The pod wasn’t moving anymore, and still something pulled her down. “Did we… land?” she asked, dazed. She scanned the escape pod, but there was no trace of a human in a military uniform.
“Yes,” Harmony said. “Your life signs are extremely erratic. I was beginning to fear we would have to burn our thaumic reserve to keep you alive. But that is not necessary.”
Images flashed through her mind, obviously taken through the external cameras. She could see along the length of the escape pod, touched down in the center of a blackened field. But a little further and living grass swayed, and strange trees with transparent yellow leaves rose in the distance.
But the grass, at least, was safe.
I can’t believe I’m excited to eat like an animal. “Is it safe?” she asked, fumbling with her restraints one by one. She used magic to do the clips, not caring just now about the loss. The hatch was only a few seats away. “Can I eat that without dying?”
“I am uncertain,” Harmony answered. “Varch’nai sensors read the external environment as certain death, because it would be to them. There is a microbiome, unknown predators, and an alien ecosystem.
“But you are not Varch’nai. Citizen bodies are resilient, and there is a high probability that plant protein will be compatible with you. Perhaps more importantly, the chance of rescue before you starve if it is not approaches zero. I will manipulate your perceptions so you do not overeat and poison yourself, or burst your stomach. But it would be better if you practiced moderation and consumed only a small amount.”
Felicity stumbled out the emergency hatch into a planet with a sky as gray as carbon. Distant storm clouds rumbled, but never seemed to move.
A bird that was not a bird sung in a nearby bush that was not a bush. Truly alien life, survived through the great extinction despite all of Harmony’s fears.
It was exactly the joy that ponies all over Equestria should be celebrating right now. There were cities somewhere on this thing, and other people who were probably just as happy to make new friends.
Instead we’ve been shot down. I might be the last survivor of another fleet.
Felicity didn’t let that knowledge crush her just now. For the first time in her life, she made like a horse and ate some grass.