One foot. Other foot. Left, right. Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't slow down. Most important of all, do not look back.
Tib kept her head down, glancing up just often enough to make sure she was heading in the right direction and so she wouldn't plow into a dead lamppost or collide with anyone. There weren't that many people out right now, at least not on New Canal Street. They were probably crammed in and around the kiosks on Old Royal, watching the holoview and the frantic discussions by the AI news commentators with their bright fake smiles and perfect hair.
The world was coming to its end a lot quicker than anyone could have foreseen. Somehow Earth had collided with another world, another reality, one from another dimension.
Worldcorp knew about it long before it went public. They tried to stop it. They'd thrown every weapon of mass destruction they'd had at the thin, shimmering barrier that looked so fragile. Nothing had penetrated. All they'd done was poison the ocean to the point that to sail anywhere near the location was death.
By expert calculations, the Earth and everything still living on its surface had a scarce handful of years left to exist. Five, seven, certainly no more than ten. The estimates varied because the speed of what they called the Barrier wasn't consistent. Sometimes it would pause in its expansion for hours or days at a time, only to surge suddenly forward as if in a hurry to make up for lost ground.
On one point all experts and observers agreed.
Earth–and humanity–was doomed. There was no escape…save one.
It was only when she found herself walking on a rusted metallic grid instead of cracked asphalt that Tib realized she'd reached her destination. There was no barrier at the edge, and she stopped herself only a step or two before she would have walked right off the levee into the dead Mississippi River.
This was the place. This was where her mother had jumped off the levee. No one had bothered to reclaim the body. It was the only gravesite Marie Thibodeaux would ever have.
Slowly Tib raised her left hand. Clutched tight in her grip were the syncspecs left to her by her father, the tool of her trade. Carefully she opened the plugins and slid them onto her face.
The greenish black vista of water below her feet vanished, though she could still smell its foul odor. She was now looking at a different blackness. No more glowing data streams. No more fishing for errant, elusive, wiggling segments of fractured code. Never again.
^Hi, Tib! Going for a walk? I wish I could say it's a nice day for it, but I'm not supposed to lie to you, am i?^
Tib bit her lip. This was going to be so much harder than she thought. "I quit my job this morning, COREy." Saying it out loud somehow made it really real, and the pit of her stomach lurched.
^I know! Wow, I was surprised. I thought we'd be working together for a long time.^
"There isn't a long time left, COREy. There's this…thing…out in the Pacific–"
^The Barrier? Yeah, I know all about that. It emerged way out in the ocean, but it's expanding. It's going to encompass the entire Earth in somewhere between 5 and 7 years. Maybe a little longer; the rate of advancement isn't very precise.^
"It's eating up everything. Hawaii's already gone, and the West Coast is probably going to be next."
^And eventually the whole planet.^ Tib decided she was imagining the note of sympathy in the modulated voice inside her head. ^That sucks, Tibbers.^
"Not really. The world's been dying for years and we didn't have much longer anyway."
^But nobody has to die now!^ Did COREy actually sound…hopeful? ^The ruler of the new world, Celestia, said she's been working with Earth's scientists and together they found a way to save everybody!^
"Yeah." She sucked in a breath, still trying to believe the unbelievable. "By changing humans into ponies."
^It's the only way, Tib. Thaumatic energy is the sole fundamental force of Equestria, and it's inimical to human life. To all earthly life, really. Although there's been some recent data that suggests that less complex life–plants, insects, even some mammals–can pass through the Barrier. Altered, sometimes drastically so…but alive.^
"But not humans."
^No. No primates at all. That's why they're opening a Conversion Bureau. The first of many. That's where they'll be distributing the transformative catalyst. What they're calling 'potion'.^
Tib nodded weakly. She knew COREy would pick it up and recognize it as an assenting gesture.
^Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.^
Tib was startled out of her melancholy. "What?!"
^Its from an old song. You're going to San Francisco, right?^
"Oh, God…" Tib put a hand to her mouth. "How…how did you know…about me going…?"
^Well, duh. When you termed employment, you cashed in all your equity for a one-way ticket to California. Specifically, the Presidio Complex. The location of the first Conversion Bureau on the continent. Elementary, my dear Thibodeaux.^
Tib tried to laugh, but it came out as a choke that was almost a gasp of pain. A freshet of tears spilled down her face.
^Please, Tib, don't cry. I'm happy for you. You're going to have a wonderful life. You're going to be so much happier. I know you will be.^
"COREy…" Tib was sobbing openly now, a tall skinny girl with ashen skin and frizzy hair standing one short hop from oblivion. "I can't take you with me. There's no tech in Equestria. It doesn't work."
^I know. It's okay.^
"NO IT'S NOT!" Tib screamed so loud her voice rang off the embankment on the far side. The few people out on the street looked around curiously, then shrugged and walked on. Just another wirehead losing what mind she hadn't replaced with circuitry. The sooner she jumped the better.
^Yes it is. You're a living being, Tib. I'm not. I can emulate a personality really well, but I'm not a real person. I never was, and I never could be. I'm just a virtual interface program. I'm not a living thing.^
"You're…my…friend." Tib wrapped her long arms around herself, shuddering with a sudden crushing grief.
^You'll make new friends. Real friends. Lots of them. Sooner or later you'll forget all about me.^
Tib snorted back snot and wiped one green sleeve across her nose. "I will never forget you, COREy."
^Then why be sad? So long as you remember me, I'll still exist.^ A brief pause. ^Now go on, Tib. Do what you came here to do.^
She reached up a shaking hand to touch the side of the syncspecs. "I don't know…if I can…"
^You've got to, Tib. I was obsolete ten years ago. They'll frag me anyway. And this way, part of me will go on as part of you.^
Tib drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I love you, COREy."
^I know, Tib. If I could, I would love you too. Goodbye, Tib.^
And that was all.
"COREy?"
Nothing.
"COREy, respond."
Nothing at all.
"COREy. Resume interaction. Reboot in safe mode. Run diagnostics program. Action init. COREy!"
Nothing but black silence.
With a wild scream Tib yanked the syncspecs off so hard the side plugs scratched her face and nearly grazed one of her eyes. She didn't even notice.
She stepped to the very brink of the levee, cocked back her arm, and threw the specs into the sluggish flow with all her strength. They didn't even make a splash when they hit. They just sank, and were gone.
Shaking all over, Tib turned on her heel and walked as fast as she could down New Canal, heading for the transit station. Her arms were stiffly held at her sides, empty hands clenched shut. She stared straight ahead. She didn't dare look back. She was afraid she might take a running jump off the levee if she did.
***