//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: Friends and Family 
// Story: Partial 
// by Halira 
//------------------------------//

One day down, who knows how many to go. Jessica thought to herself as she walked to her car, purse at her side.

"Woooohooo! Shake that tail, babe!" 

She stopped in her tracks and turned to see who had called out to her. She spotted three men, in their early twenties, probably students, standing next to an expensive-looking black sports car. It was obvious which one had spoken because he was giving her a lecherous leer. The other two of them seemed aghast at his behavior. He looked like the type that was the life of frat parties. The kind that's priorities were set by what was between his legs instead of what was between his ears. If a student, the car indicated wealthy parents, a trust fund baby who was used to always getting his way because he could just buy whatever he wanted and pay whatever fines he incurred. Honestly, she was attracted to both macho types and prissy types, but she was not attracted to entitled jerks.

She turned and continued walking to her car. There was no need to give him the satisfaction of a response— damn pervert. 

"Hey! I was talking to you!"

Her ears flattened, but she didn't turn to look. Engaging him served no purpose, and she'd be able to hear if he tried chasing after her. 

"Stupid partial freak!"

A sound barrier went up halfway between him and her, so she didn't have to listen to him. Again, she'd be able to hear if he crossed it. 

People fetishizing her and treating her like trash was old news. She was Doctor Jessica Middleton, the greatest mathematician living and the foremost expert on thaumic physics. She had defined the interaction and relationship between thaumic energy and neutrinos at the age of six-and-a-half. She was the most brilliant scientist of the age and had no need to stoop to their level, and if anyone called her a coward, they had best remember why she wasn't still an earth pony. 

Some days, I wish I had taken the chance on prosthetics and stayed an earth pony, or Princess Twilight had been better prepared to try to rehumanize me when she did. she thought bitterly before immediately shaking her head to chase away the thought. It wasn't the first time she'd felt that. It probably wasn't going to be the last, but it was something that crept into her thoughts sometimes when she heard bigots talk to her like that. 

In truth, she didn't hate her body, despite everyone else's reactions. No matter how often they called her a freak, she didn't see that when she looked in the mirror. Heck, her primary regret about it was there weren't more like her. Partials were rare, especially in the USA. There were supposedly significant numbers of partials in some areas overseas, places that had been isolated when the end of ETS came and didn't get rehumanization teams out to them until years after the fact or still hadn't. She'd never met any of them, only a stray person here and there with less prominent pony features that lingered after their rehumanization. 

It would be nice to meet someone who was like her that she was genetically compatible to have kids with, but that was a one-in-a-million chance. She wasn't a partial because she had pony features; she was a partial because she was genetically neither human or pony. Most people with a stray pony feature or two were still genetically human. She wasn't genetically compatible with humans. Partials were rarely ever even compatible with other partials, each their own genetically unique entity with multiple chromosomes that couldn't find a pairing with their partner's, leading to failed fertilization or stillbirths. She hated the day she'd been told that; she hadn't ever cried so hard in her life. It was never fun for anyone being told they can't have kids, or an astronomically low chance, anyway. Math was her thing, and she'd run the numbers.

Not that she had time for relationships and childrearing. The end of the world wouldn't slow its advance for her to invest time in that sort of thing.

Finally, she had reached her car, a personally refurbished red ninteen-fifty-three Corvette. She already had her keys in her hand and was quick to get her door unlocked. Her mother taught her that; always have her keys out or phone out when walking out to the car. It dissuaded people from jumping her. She was strong enough to fight off most humans, but that was only inviting more trouble. A person could jump her, and then sue her for assault if she defended herself with near earth pony strength. Courts always favored humans, and partials were even lower on the totem pole than ponies— way below. The fact she was famous might help, or it could be used to further brand partials as dangerous. They'd talk about how even she resorted to violence and use it as a rallying cry. It wasn't fair, but it was how it was. It was best to avoid the conflict. 

Deep breath, start the engine, lower the hood, and take a leisurely drive to the sanctuary of her home. 





Back to suburbia in Aurora. She sat in her car and looked at her house… no, her parents' house. It wouldn't be long till she was out on her own. She'd physically matured too young and was left forever waiting for her legal age to catch up to her physical age. She technically was still too young to do a number of things, and she couldn't deny she'd more than once broken some age-restricted rules in acts of childish rebellion, but now she was legally old enough to get her own place. She should be excited; it was something she'd been dreaming of for a long time, but thinking about it made her nerves go on edge.

Stop being stupid and go inside. Mom is inside, dying to hear how your day went. Don't keep her in suspense. The sooner you deal with her, the sooner you can work. You still need to make a show of progress on finding whatever is in deep space before you go to bed. Damn Dreamwardens get more demanding by the day.

She sighed and exited the car, shutting the door gently behind her. As she approached the front door, she stopped. A purple crayon was on the front porch in front of the door. Her mother never used crayons with her art, and her little brother certainly didn't use them for anything; at least, she didn't think he did. She picked it up before anyone stepped on it and tripped. 

"Mom? I'm home! Are you here?" she called out as stepped through the door. 

Her mom came out to meet her. "Jessie, keep your voice down. Your brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and niece are asleep in the guest room."

Jessica blinked and listened. There were four distinct sets of heartbeats and breathing up in the guest room. The only other sets of breathing and heartbeats were hers and her mom's, not counting her little brother's gerbil and what she assumed was a mouse in the backyard– or maybe it was a bird; it was fast and tiny, whatever it was.

"When did they get here?" Jessica asked as she shut the door, subconsciously insulating sound so she wouldn't wake anyone. "Where are Dusk and Dad? Shouldn't they already be home?"

Her mom gestured for her to sit on the couch. "Dusk is hanging out with some friends, and your father called and said he'd be running late due to some new case. Your brother and his family arrived about an hour after you left for work. Nightscape says she is here researching for a new building project, but I know they wanted to help you with your move."

Jessica set the crayon down on the coffee table. "I guess little Eve dropped this on her way in. Bet she wants to draw like her parents and grandma. Probably already has more art talent than me."

Her mom chuckled as she headed for the kitchen. "Maybe not yet; she's only two. I think you can outdraw her for a few years yet. I'll brew us some coffee and you can tell me all about your first day teaching. I've been waiting all day to hear about it."

"She and I can compare stick figures to decide that. Coffee sounds great, Mom. I'll take mine black," Jessica said as she sat down.

Her mom was already putting the pot on. "I know, I know. I don't understand your need to drink it that way. How did you ever develop a dislike of sugar in your coffee when you used to be a pony? Ponies love sugar."

Jessica shrugged, though her mom wouldn't be able to see her from the kitchen. "Was always in a hurry and didn't have time to add sugar, cream, or milk, and just got in the habit of drinking it that way. Now it doesn't taste right if you add anything."

She heard her mom take a deep breath. "Always in such a hurry. That's the story of your life. I worry about you. It seems like it has been getting worse these last few years. You need to take time for friends and maybe a little romance, hmmm?"

She leaned back and hung her head over the back of the couch. "Mom! I don't have time for that! There's not going to be anything like that for years yet."

The coffee finished brewing, and her mom was fixing her coffee. "Jessica, I say this as a concerned mother—"

Jessica rolled her eyes. She already knew what was coming.

Her mom came back into the living room and handed her a cup of coffee. "— you're going to get old before you should. I don't want you to lose the best years of your life only focused on work."

She took a sip before answering. "I only lost six years of my life, Mom. You act like I'll be old and gray in ten years."

"The way you work yourself, you might be, and you could start graying in ten years. You'd be physically in your early thirties; some people start graying then," her mom said as she sat down. "Would it kill you to make some friends with the other faculty, go out for a few drinks—"

"I'm nineteen. I'm not legal drinking age," Jessica injected quickly. 

Her mom looked at her, unconvinced. "I know you came back drunk off your ass from a party at fifteen. I'm pretty sure you were high, too, based on the strong smell of weed about you that night. You tried to play it off as you just had the flu, but your father and I weren't born yesterday. We never said anything because we were more relieved that you had gone out and done something semi-normal for a college girl. You're physically in your mid-twenties; having a drink or two with friends won't kill you. Having a drink or two on a date—"

Jessica crossed her arms. "That definitely isn't happening."

"Why not? You're a highly respected scientist. That makes you an extremely eligible bachelorette. Heck, you even are wide open on partner choices. You could have a special man, special woman, special mare or stallion. You know I don't mind the fact that you make no preference between gender or species; I just want my baby girl happy. I have friends with grown kids. I could help arrange a meetup. I know your preferences that you find most appealing. I just want you to have a special someone in your life."

Jessica set her coffee cup down and glared. "I'm not going to have my mother trying to help me get laid. I can't believe we're even having this conversation. I may pursue something once my work is done, but not before. I don't have time."

Her mom frowned. "Your work...you're not talking about teaching. You're talking about whatever that is that the Dreamwardens have you doing, aren't you? Three of them are immortals, and they've had you working since you were a kid. They don't think about time like we do. When is it ever going to be enough for them? When will they be done with you? Haven't they claimed enough of your life?"

Tick-tock, tick-tock, the end was marching closer. The Dreamwardens were searching for a solution, NASA was watching and trying to determine the timetable, governments around the world were in either denial or panic mode, and the public didn't have a clue. Every other civilization in the history of the universe had been destroyed by the foe they were up against. Many of those civilizations had been far more advanced, others had been practically stone-aged, but advanced or primitive, they had been unprepared for what was coming. That was the one advantage Earth had going for it; there was a chance to try to prepare, a chance to fight.

"Mom...it is very important work," Jessica said slowly. "I wish I could tell you how important, but there's so many levels of classified information involved with this it would blow your mind. It is worth every moment of my life if that is what it takes."

"What good are you to them if you break down doing whatever this is?" her mom demanded. "You need to take care of yourself. You need to have some joy in your life. When you were a foal, I worried you might throw away your future by getting into social situations you weren't prepared for because you were always in such a hurry to grow up. I miss those days because now I worry you're going to not let yourself have a life."

"I'm fine, Mom. You know I make time for friends here and there. I went all the way back to Skytree over the summer for Jordan's eighteenth birthday. I keep up with everybody on social media. I don't avoid people because I don't want a social life. I do it because I'm busy."

Technically, that was like three-quarters true. She was very particular about who she tried to engage in any socializing with. Being a partial made her wary of people in general. In terms of relationships, she was unsure if she could ever trust someone to be into her for her and not having some objectifying fetish for partials that never extended to seeing her as a person. 

Her mom looked like she wanted to argue more, but shook her head. "Maybe I'm being too pushy. I'm sorry. I know I wouldn't behave this way with your brothers. We all endure difficulties with our social lives because of...you know, but you're the one of us who actually has some celebrity status that should have people eager to associate with you, yet you're the one who seems to struggle the most in getting out there. I don't want you to look back at this point in your life twenty years from now and feel regret."

Jessica looked down at her coffee. "Robby always resented how much attention you devoted to me and not him. I'm surprised Dusk doesn't have a chip on his shoulder as well."

"Dusk does, just not to you or us," her mom said in a tired voice. "He's a smart boy. He knows none of us are responsible for what he has to go through. He sees what the rest of us endure."

"He's a good kid," Jessica said. "I guess I'm the lucky one. People can forget who my aunts are when dealing with me."

Her mother clicked her tongue. "Believe me, I envy you for that, but I'm also happy for you. Much as you have to put up with, at least you get spared something."

Jessica's ears twitched. "Robby and the others are stirring upstairs. I think we need to end this conversation. They'll be down shortly."

Her mom looked embarrassed. "I guess we got too loud."

"No, Mom. I've been controlling the volume the entire time. They didn't hear a thing."

Her mom half-smiled. "Of course you did. I don't know why I never remember you do stuff like that without saying anything. Tell me about your first day teaching. It is nice to know there's another teacher in the family again. I miss doing it."

Jessica looked down to avoid her mom's eyes. "I'm sorry you had to retire. It wasn't fair."

Her mom waved it away. "No fault of yours. Stupid school board just overreacted to what happened with your auntie. It's given me time to focus on family and my own art, but I want to hear about your day."

"Well, I got in trouble with the dean for muting students, and was told in no uncertain terms that my office needed to be moved off campus," Jessica replied. 

Her mom frowned. "Okay… I hope that doesn't become an issue. What else?"

"A student in the parking lot decided to be both a bigot and a misogynist towards me. I didn't escalate the situation by doing anything to him or confronting him, I just ignored him," Jessica continued. 

Her mom's frown shifted to sadness. "I'm sorry that happened."

Jessica shrugged and pulled her jacket so she covered more of her bust. She also tucked her tail closer to her to make it less visible. "What's new? There's always going to be someone around like that, and every once and a while, there'll be ones like him that decide to make themselves loud and obnoxious. But hey, on the bright side, I'm all grown up, and they aren't doing that to an underaged girl anymore. I guess that makes it all okay. Sure makes me feel better about the idea of getting in a relationship with someone who finds me attractive."

Her mom looked like she was searching for a reassuring word to say and struggling. "I'm very sorry they make you feel that way. It breaks my heart. You know there are plenty of people not like that, who will treat you with respect, right?"

Jessica sunk back against the couch cushion, still drawn in on herself. "I know."

"What about the actual class? Did they seem excited to have you teaching? Did you enjoy it?" her mom asked, forcing a smile and leaving the subject behind. 

"They seemed excited when I started discussing internships," Jessica answered. "I'm not you, though, Mom. Teaching isn't my thing. I'm there because I'm looking for help in those different organizations, not because I enjoy watching young minds blossom. This is just a part-time job with an agenda."

Her mom looked away and then stood up. "I see. Well, I won't trouble you any more about it. I'm going to start fixing dinner early since we have three extra mouths to feed. I hope you'll spare some time to spend with your older brother and your niece."

Jessica realized she should have tried to sound more upbeat about teaching. Her mom always wanted something to bond over. Here they had a chance to have something, and Jessica had practically spat on it. Real genius move.

Robby came down the stairs, sleeping infant nestled on his back, and spotted her. "Hey, sis. How's my favorite plow horse?"

She gave him a cross look. "That insult wasn't a good one when I was still a pony, bat brain. Nightscape trying to give Eve a bath right now?"

He nodded. "I'm sure you hear it. How's it going?"

"From what I hear, I think more water is getting on your wife and floor than on your kid," Jessica answered. 

Robby came over, gently put his sleeping son on the couch, and climbed on the sofa beside her, not bothering to jump or flap his wings, probably for fear of waking the infant. "Sounds about right. How did I get this old?"

"Well, typically we only age in one direction, so your answer is self explanatory," she replied dryly. "You aren't that old. We're physically about the same age."

"And my baby sister is teaching at a college and moving out to her own place. It was just yesterday that you were crawling on my back like little Umber here," Robby said wistfully as he gently ran a hoof over his sleeping son. "Next thing you know, Eve will be moving out too."

"I think you have got plenty of time yet for that," she replied with a smirk. 

He looked up at her. "You know, you aren't the only eavesdropper in the family. I blame you for being a bad influence. I was listening from the stairs before I came down."

She nodded. "I heard your heart and breathing and many bodily functions I won't go into. I decided to let you listen."

"My stomach is growling," Robby agreed. "Anyway, is everything okay with you and Mom?"

She shrugged. "You heard it. She was needlessly pushy, and I was insensitive, and no, she can't hear us talking."

"Of course not. Thanks for not muting the earlier conversation to me," Robby replied. "It will be okay. Mom has always worried about you more than she needed, and I am not resentful anymore; I'll have you know."

"Forgiven her at your decrepit old age of twenty-five?" Jessica asked with a smirk. 

He shrugged again. "Worrying about my foals puts some things in a new shade. I told you, I'm getting old. Being a parent changes you and makes you rethink things."

She sighed. "Think you can go help Mom in the kitchen and patch things up for me? You two can talk about art stuff or whatever."

"Only if you help my wife with our screeching bundle of joy. You've got hands; they're useful for that kind of thing. Just watch out; she bites."

"I think I can deal with a filly's teeth," Jessica said as she stood up. 

"Oh, yeah, Eve too. Watch Eve's mouth, too," Robby smirked. 

She gave her brother a very light pop in his side, careful to watch her strength. "That is not a nice thing to say about your wife!"

Robby spread his wings defensively, grinning broadly. "I didn't say I minded."

She rolled her eyes. "Just smooth things over with Mom for me. You're better at that kind of thing."

He climbed down from the couch. He barely reached her shorts while standing at full height. "I've got it. What are big brothers for?"

"Thanks, Robby."

He touched a hoof to her leg. "And I need to let you in on a secret. You can tell the Dreamwardens to shove it occasionally and give you a break for a day or two. I've told Phobia off more than once. She'll glare at you, give you a dirty look, and then calmly leave you be for a while."

Her eyebrows climbed as high as they could, perhaps reaching new records. "You've told off Phobia Remedy, the Queen of Nightmares? For what?"

He flapped his wings slightly. "She gets overbearing at times. Sometimes you have to tell her to back off for the sake of your mental health. They have access to knowing you need a break, but that doesn't mean they're paying attention, or maybe they're just waiting for you to say something. You know how their weird privacy rules work."

"And you get away with that with no consequences?" Jessica asked, skeptical. 

He shuffled his hooves. "With her, yeah, but I avoid Tempest afterward. I value my life, and she gets offended on Phobia's behalf."

Mention of Phobia's humanized Equestrian bodyguard made her tail subconsciously start to rise before she caught what she was doing and forced it down—stupid tail.

Robby caught sight of it and smirked at her. "She's way too old for you, and you aren't her type. I think she's dating someone now. She's been real secretive about it."

"I know that!" she said in a loud whisper. "It doesn't mean I can't think she's attractive. I'm not immune to that stuff just because I have no time for it. Don't tell Mom about it, or I'll make you hear nothing but nails against a chalkboard for the rest of the day."

Robby chuckled. "Mom already knows about how you look at Tempest, along with others. Your tail betrays you every time. How do you think she figured out your type? Anyway, I know you understand she isn't worth pursuing, but it's always so cute when you get hot and bothered and then watch you try to hide it. I'm your big brother; I get to pick on you about that stuff."

She playfully scoffed at him. "You look little to me, pony."

"You're just big for a human," he replied with a wave of his wing. "You know, Nightscape thought about buying you a pair of high heels for Christmas. She thought it would make you look more professional or something."

She groaned. "You talked her out of that, right? I don't need to add any more inches to my height or draw attention to my legs."

He shrugged. "Who can say?"

"Bat brain!" she yelled at him as she headed for the stairs. 

"Plow horse!" he shouted back from the kitchen. 

She shook her head as she went upstairs. Robby better be happy she had shielded his foal from hearing all that noise. Otherwise, he would be dealing with a crying kid right about now. Now to see if she could help with his other kid. 

As she entered the bathroom, she wasn't shocked to find water all over the floor and Robby's wife, Nightscape, soaking wet. What she was surprised to see was Eve latched on to the showerhead. 

"I see my niece has learned to climb," Jessica said with amusement. 

Nightscape didn't look at her as she answered. "Climb up, yes; climb down, no. She started climbing about a week ago and has been a nuisance since. Okay, pipsqueak, you got yourself up there, but there's only one place left to go. You're diving into the tub. You're taking a bath."

"No!" Eve shouted, then giggled. 

"Why can't you be more like your little brother," Nightscape asked the filly in exasperation.

"Because night pony fillies tend to be kinda wild and night pony colts a little more docile, at least by comparison. I wouldn't call night pony colts docile, but that's the reputation," Jessica answered. "You heard that some of the teens are starting to call themselves amazons instead of night ponies because the mares and fillies have a reputation for being fierce, right?"

Nightscape shook her head. "I've heard them, and I think that's dumb. Did you see those new ads from Amazon, the company? They're practically encouraging it! Young night ponies being successful at things with sentimental music playing in the background and then that catchphrase, I'm the future. I'm Amazon– it makes me want to puke having my tribe being used as a marketing tool like that. Back in my day-"

"Did you seriously just make a back-in-my-day statement?" Jessica asked with a laugh. 

"Well, it's true. Kids are trying to change everything," Nightscape protested. "Anyway, this little amazon is about to end up in her personal Amazon river…I know it's a tub, but trying to work the theme here. You can't stay up there all day, Eve!"

*Yes!" Eve said with a loud chortle, still gripping the showerhead tightly. 

"Do you want me to get her down?" Jessia asked. "She's easy to reach for me, and you don't want her bath getting cold."

Nightscape gave an agitated flap of her wings. "Feels like conceding defeat, but okay. I've spent enough time fighting with her over a bath. Just be careful. She's more agile than she looks, and I don't want her using you for a ramp."

"I'll be alert," Jessica replied. 

She took a few cautious steps towards the tub, hands outstretched. Nightscape shifted to the side, perhaps worried she'd get stepped on. Eve eyed her hands warily but didn't budge from the showerhead. 

"Come on, rugrat, come to Aunt Jessie," she whispered. 

Eve looked at the hands, looked up as if searching for other places to climb higher, then looked down. Then the filly suddenly released her death-grip on the fixture, plummeting towards the tub. There was a splash, but nowhere near as large of one as should have resulted from the filly diving into that. Instead, the filly hit the water and, with one massive beat of her right wing, cartwheeled off the water's surface and landed on the floor in front of the two dumbfounded adults. 

Eve let out a squeal of triumph and ran right under Jessica's legs and out the bathroom door.

"What the hell just happened?" Nightscape asked in disbelief. "You're the physicist. Tell me how my daughter managed to bounce off the water."

Jessica blinked as she listened to her brother, now trying to corral his daughter before she woke her brother. Then she heard Umber stir and start to cry. 

"In my professional opinion as a woman of science, I don't know," Jessica answered. "Never underestimate what a foal can pull off is my best answer."

Nightscape groaned and then went chasing after her daughter to try to stop the chaos. Jessica decided this was an excellent time to go to her room and try to get some work done. 





Jessica sat in her room, looking over star charts, mathematical equations, and probability functions in frustration. None of these probabilities looked like promising matches. The highest she had seen today was a 3.2% chance of a match, and on closer review of that one, she determined there was no way it was the one she was looking for and was worth no further study.  

Her ears flicked at the heartbeat, breathing, and other bodily functions outside her door. She ignored them and refocused on the numbers. 

The computer continued to run simulations based on her equations. It never stopped running these simulations. She spent hours every day reviewing the results. Maybe it was time to design a new set of equations; perhaps these were faulty. No, she was confident in her math. She had confirmed that her equations produced results with nearby star systems. They should work with these star charts as well if there was anything to find. 

The sounds outside her door didn't go away. There was a nervous twinge to them. Her phone buzzed as someone messaged her. She picked it up and looked. 

Glasses<Smore Center wants to know if you have made any new progress. New information: She says you are looking for the first and last place.>

She groaned. Damn Dreamwardens, couldn't they give her a day of peace? She'd been staring at projection match probabilities and reviewing the more promising ones for nearly an hour. So it wasn't like she wasn't trying to make progress. Why couldn't they leave her alone? She'd tell them if she had any good leads on where this thing might be. Hell, she'd be excited to tell them as much if she thought she had made significant progress. It would help if she had more eyes on this, whatever this was. She was grateful that NASA wasn't nearly this pushy about getting results from her. She'd need to contact them soon. NASA's silence as of late worried her, even if it should have been a relief.

The heartbeat outside her door was still going. It was steadying out, so they must be calming down. She refused to let it distract her. 

The first and last place? That rang a bell. Where had she heard that term before regarding space? Something was tugging at her thoughts. Maybe this message was helpful if she could figure out what the coded message Rebecca was telling her was. Why did they go to such lengths to hide what she sought? It had to be something they either feared or were ashamed of. It wasn't the Devourers. The Dreamwardens had done everything they could to help people track where those might be at any given moment; it was critical information to know if they were expecting an attack. What did they fear or feel more shame about than the Devourers, and how could it help ward off the coming doomsday?

The sounds outside her door were still there, and she finally got tired of listening to them and waiting. 

"Come on in, Dad."

The door opened, and he stepped in. "You didn't give me a chance to knock."

She closed her laptop and swiveled her chair around to face him. "You were standing at my door for just under two minutes. You needed prompting. What's bothering you?"

He walked over to her bed and sat down on it. He didn't ask her what she had been doing. He knew that she spent almost all her private time dedicated to the Dreamwardens' pet project. 

"I got a new case that was specially assigned to me," he replied, rubbing his hands together. "It's unusual for our office, and I was wondering if you would care to help me out."

She blinked. "I don't know anything about social work, and I'm swamped. What is it? A genius kid?"

He frowned and shook his head. "I don't know much about how intelligent this kid is. He could be brilliant, or he could be dumb as a brick. He doesn't say or do much at all. It doesn't matter one way or another; he's a child in need."

"Okay, and how am I supposed to be helpful?" she asked, confused.

He looked her in the eyes. "The kid's a partial, Jessie. First legitimately partial kid the office has seen in years, and he's only four years old."

She looked at her father in disbelief. Her heart quickened. Some part of her wanted him to be lying and using this to play a joke on her, but she knew he wouldn't do that to her. Listening to heartbeats is unreliable at best, but the only heart skipping a beat was hers. 

"It is statistically improbable that there would be a partial that age in the area," she replied after taking a deep breath. 

"I know, but I met him," her dad insisted. "This isn't some stray pony features. He has more fur than you, toes fused, a full tail, pony ears, a horn, and a slight gait to his walk. Doctors did some tests, and he is closer to being a pony than a human, but he's no pony. Kid won't talk, but they say there's no medical reason he can't, and he seems to understand what people are saying to him."

The poor kid…he must be terrified. She had always dealt with stares and comments, but if his pony features were that pronounced, he had to get it much worse.  

"Where are his parents?" she asked. It had to be partial parents. Irrational jealousy welled up in her at the thought of two compatible partials finding one another, and she forced the feeling down. 

Her dad shook his head again. "Nobody knows. We think he's been in the care of his grandmother for years and kept out of sight. The old woman recently had a stroke on her way home from the grocery store, and she is in a hospital, completely unresponsive. She has been there long enough that her landlord started evicting her, and when they went in, they found this kid, half-starved and hiding in his room."

"Neglect?" she asked as her ears fell. 

"No, we think he was well taken care of, but his grandmother had been gone for over a month due to the hospitalization. He ate through everything in the house, but it ran out. None of the neighbors knew about him, not even the landlord. His room showed he had plenty of clothes, toys, and comfortable bedding. He has some recent injuries we think he picked up trying to take care of himself, but he doesn't have any older injuries we would associate with physical abuse."

She looked away. "And they assigned you the case because you have a partial daughter, so that makes you magically more knowledgeable about how to deal with him, right?"

"That's their thinking," her dad replied. "It might not be correct, but I can see where they're coming from."

Was she that difficult a child to deal with? If she was being honest with herself, she had been. Dealing with a super genius child could be stressful enough, but then there had been the years when her powers had first manifested, and she had to be watched by a crystal pony constantly so she didn't burst everyone's eardrums. They had to cut relations with people they had called friends because those friends looked at her and saw something inhuman. There was the family moving so she could go to college where she wanted and leaving her older brother in the care of another to do it. That Robby could still joke and laugh with her after that was a miracle. Her entire family's life had been impacted by her and revolved around her, and they were already dealing with negative impacts on their lives because of who her aunts were. Was she challenging to deal with? That was a silly question to ask. 

"How do you know that was his grandmother if she's comatose and he won't talk?" she asked, focusing on the facts instead of her feelings. 

"We aren't sure yet, but based on what we found in the house, we're confident that it's his grandmother in the hospital, and his name is Mark. We don't know the whereabouts of his parents; his presumed father has been listed as missing since ETS and was previously assumed to be a pony that took on a new identity. We don't know anything about who the mother is or was yet. There's no other known family. For all we know, he could be some Shimmerist attempt to recreate ETS gone wrong, but if that were so, we would have thought his grandmother would have brought him to the authorities for help. I've never heard of such a thing being found, but there are always rumors."

Jessica frowned. She did know of a confirmed case of such an experiment gone wrong. She'd found out only by accident when she overheard it being discussed by ponies who hadn't realized the extent of her powers yet. That particular experiment had been monstrous in its result. She didn't know what became of the person, but what little she had heard did not paint a hopeful picture for the victim. It seemed unlikely Shimmerists would be eager to repeat such a failure. They could be fanatical at times, but even they cared about suffering and wouldn't willingly subject someone to something like that.

"And you came to me hoping he might open up to another partial?"

Her dad spread his hands. "I'm grasping at straws here, Jessie. I've got a frightened child who just got put into the system who won't talk."

She wasn't sure she could do anything to help. "Has he seen his grandma yet?"

"Not yet. It has been difficult getting him anywhere. He seems to have severe agoraphobia and kenophobia. I don't think he was born in that apartment, but he might not remember being anywhere else. He fears humans, ponies, and being out in the open. We didn't think he was ready to see her yet."

"Heh, definitely not a pony in that respect," she muttered. "And I take it grandma is a human without magic, so the Dreamwardens can't get into her dreams to ask questions."

"They aren't always able to reach people in comas anyway, but you're right. Grandma never got ETS and doesn't have a trace of magic."

"And no go on getting them into Mark's dreams?" she asked. 

"Mark is too young to give those permissions for himself or understand what permissions he's giving. Tonya and Phobia might feel bad for him, but they won't violate those privacy lines. People have tried asking Dreamwardens to do that before in social work cases. The Dreamwardens don't take well to the requests."

"Probably just as well. They can only get out of the mind what the person knows, and most kids that age don't understand most of the world around them and are likely distorting it." She paused and flicked her tail. "How do you know he's four?"

"He has a string of birthday cards from his grandma taped to his bedroom wall, first, second, third, and fourth birthdays, but nothing beyond that. She also tracked his height in one of the doorways, marking each year. She addressed each birthday card to Mark and signed Love Grandma. It isn't proof he isn't just someone she adopted, but it is pretty clear she's cared for him for years." 

She picked up her old rubber ball from the table and squeezed it. "It seems like she loved him, but why'd she hide him? Being partial is rough, but it isn't worth keeping him hidden from the world. Having no contact with others can only hurt him in the long run."

Her dad shook his head. "I know this sounds bad for me to say to you, but I think you fail to appreciate how rough being partial can be."

She slammed her ball down on the ground, and she and her dad took cover as it bounced off the floor to the ceiling and ricocheted around the room, knocking a picture off the wall. At least it didn't hit her computer. 

Once it finally stopped, she glared angrily at her dad. "I know full well the way people look at partials and the things they say! I can't help but hear the things they say! You have no right to say I don't!"

He met her glare with a sad look. "I know you have it rough, Jessie, and I know I can't fully understand what you go through, but you need to remember that you're something of a celebrity, and that protects you. Most partials don't have it as good as you. You said it was statistically impossible we have a partial kid in the office. Do you know how many partials were born in this country last year, at least documented ones?"

She broke her gaze. She knew what the chances were, and she paid close attention to every news story about a partial birth, but she didn't like people, even family, knowing she did that. Her mom was terrible enough without knowing she still secretly wished for the ability to have a successful pregnancy— at least one day, once the world was saved. 

"I try to avoid hearing those numbers," she lied. Her heart didn't skip a beat while saying it. She knew the exact figure for the USA and Canada and had seen the estimates for elsewhere; four in the USA, one in Canada, two documented ones in the Caribbean Confederation with unconfirmed reports of another, and an estimated fifteen to twenty for the rest of the world combined. 

"Four," her dad confirmed. "There were just four in the entire country. It is a one-in-a-million birth. Partials hide from the rest of us because of how badly they get treated. Almost all of them live in extreme poverty. If it weren't for the generosity of a few isolated Shimmerist settlements giving them food and shelter while not reporting them, there would be more starving. His parents were probably thinking of that when they left him with his grandmother, and she was probably thinking about how cruel the world can be when she hid him away."

She crossed her arms but couldn't meet his eyes. "Maybe. I still think it would be better if he wasn't kept away from people. He has to deal with them eventually."

He sighed. "I agree with you. I'm just trying to speculate about how things got to this point. Until grandma wakes up, there's no way of knowing the truth."

"Is she going to wake up?" she asked.

Her dad shrugged and didn't give any other answer. Well, that was just peachy. 

Her phone started buzzing, and she picked it up and looked at it. It was Jordan calling, probably done with her first day of classes and wanting to know how her first day of teaching went. Her dad sat quietly while she answered. She forced herself to smile. 

"Hey, Jor. What's up?" Jessica asked.

She heard Jordan blow a raspberry over the line. "What's up? Is that how you greet your best friend in the world after such a big day?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I'm dealing with something at the moment. Give me a sec." She covered her phone's speaker and looked at her dad. "I'll help you tomorrow before I go to work. We can talk more after dinner."

He got up and headed for the door. "Thanks. Means a lot to me. If we're lucky, it will mean a lot to Mark too."

She took her hand off the speaker as her dad left the room. "How was your first day of classes?"

"It was okay, but I'm mad at you!" Jordan replied with a huff. 

Jessica blinked. "Why are you mad at me? What did I do?"

"You told me I needed to read all the textbooks before classes started! I got into class today and found out that nobody does that! I spent the last month reading them all cover to cover when I could have been reading anything else!"

She had to stop herself from laughing at her friend's indignation. "You read them all in just a month? I'm impressed. I might struggle with that in only a month. I usually started two months ahead."

"Don't you try to compliment me to deflect this!"

She still was smiling as she replied. "Oh, you would have probably just been reading more clop anyway. I didn't say you had to do that. I said that was what I did when I was still taking classes. I would be overjoyed if my students did that, but I doubt any did. Your semester should be easier since everything is now a review."

Jordan snorted. "I read classy romance novels, thank you very much. Some of them may have a few steamy scenes, but that is not any reason to look down on them."

"Okay, I apologize for implying your favorite books are trashy. Do you forgive me?"

"I guess, but only because I like you," Jordan replied. "However, you forced me back into my nerd label. I was determined to break that mold and be the sexy new freshman on campus for all the stallions to lust over, but now I guess I have to settle for being the sexy nerd mare. Not part of my grand plan for college, but it's okay, I guess. At least I don't have to worry about people thinking I'm a nerd for constantly reading."

Jessica curled an eyebrow. "Sexy? That's a new direction for you."

"Hey! I've got four years where I'm nowhere near my parents and don't have to worry about a career. I want to live it to the fullest," Jordan said proudly. "What? You don't think I can be sexy?"

"You're like my sister. I couldn't even look at you and think that," Jessica laughed. 

Jordan laughed too. "True enough, and that would be weird anyway. I love you as a friend, but I'm into stallions– not mares, not women, not men, stallions." Jordan made a popping sound to punctuate the end of her sentence.

She couldn't help giggling. This didn't surprise her all that much. Jordan had been reading clop constantly since she first noticed she had an attraction to the opposite sex. Given how fascinated Jordan was with the subject, it was a miracle Jordan had made it this far with her virginity intact. Jordan was right, these were her four years of freedom, and she was too smart to let herself get pregnant or get into an abusive relationship. If Jordan wanted to have fun, she was welcome to have fun. The end of the world was coming; people deserved to enjoy life. 

"I get it, Jor. Have all the stallions you want. I assume you're on birth control. So how goes your quest to get all the stallions eager to roll in the grass with you?"

"Eh, not so hot, " Jordan lamented. "I feel isolated out here. It isn't like Skytree; there aren't a lot of ponies at this school. It isn't just the lack of stallions that dampens my mood. It is the lack of ponies in general."

"Humans aren't so bad. You're friends with me," Jessica reminded her. 

"I know, but I look around and don't see many people like me. I think I have seen like five stallions, and none of them are my type!"

She went over to her bed and laid down. "You just started college! Give it time."

"Jackie had a stallionfriend within her first week of college. Rebecca had a boyfriend within her first week, and she wasn't even trying. Arachne is already married, and Moon already has foals," Jordan listed off. 

"That's them; you don't need to compare yourself to them," Jessica said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "I've never been on a date. I don't think Charlotte has either."

"I don't think Charlotte is interested in anybody," Jordan replied. "Yeah, she took the blessing, but I think it was just for show. I think she is one of those people like her mom who don't have a drive. And you… I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about it like this to you. I'm being insensitive."

"Don't worry. I just spent a few minutes a while ago dealing with my mom trying to pressure me into letting her play matchmaker," Jessica said, this time letting the annoyance slip into her voice at the memory of it. 

"She didn't!" Jordan said in shock. "I would be so embarrassed if my mom did that. What did you say?"

"Told her I don't have time for it and to leave it alone," Jessica muttered. 

"Speaking of you not having time, what did you reply to that letter?" Jordan asked, deftly changing subjects. 

Jessica blinked. "What letter?"

"That company that made In the Shadow of Demeter movie wanted to get us all together with the cast for some big fan thing in Skytree. They were offering a lot of money to come. I figured you would turn them down, but I wanted to ask."

"I didn't get a letter."

"But they said they sent you one, and I know you have to be the main person they want to get since you're the star and all."

"Filly Stardust was the star. She just happened to play me in the movie."

Jordan sighed. "I know, but she might have asked you personally to come. Maxine Mind included a letter to me with the one from the company. I only met her that one time she came to meet me to help figure out my character, and she wasn't a big movie star then. I was her breakout role. Me! Can you believe it?! It would be neat to meet her again, now that she's an A-list actress. Did you see her when she played Radiance in the recent Power Ponies reboot? She is awesome!"

"You sound excited about this, so if you want to go, then go," Jessica replied. 

"I don't want to go if you aren't going to be there. I don't care who else agrees; I'd just want to have a chance to spend time with you."

Jessica sighed. "Why would I go? I've never even seen the damned movie."

Jordan gasped. "You haven't? Why not?"

"I don't have any desire to relive those days, even if they embellished things to the extreme. Have you watched it?"

Jordan was quiet for a second before replying. "I watch it every few weeks or so."

Her eyebrows went up. "Why? That's re-exposing yourself to that trauma over and over again."

"Because I'm not a super genius who remembers everything like you do, and I don't want to forget!" Jordan exclaimed. 

Jessica was taken aback and at a loss for words. "I don't understand."

Jordan sighed. "Look. I was five when it happened, and I don't have a memory like yours. I remember bits and pieces. I remember being scared. I remember lots of running. I remember you telling us what to do but not what exactly. I remember being on that tree branch and that crystal pony creeping towards me, and I remember being scared shitless about you after you fell, but it's all like a dream. Watching that movie, even if some things are wrong in it, helps me remember things. It was one of the most important things that ever happened to me, and I don't want to forget anything."

Jessica stared at her ceiling, for some reason remembering the ceiling she had as a filly that was covered in glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars and paper mache planets. 

She took a deep breath. "If this is important to you, I'll see if I can find that letter."

"You don't need to do that."

"Yes, yes, I do. This thing is a big deal to you, and I never realized that. You're my best friend, and it is important to you, so I can stand to put up with this just this once. It won't kill me. I might as well see how badly they embellished what happened. I already know they tried depicting me as some preteen action hero, and you and I know how much of a joke that is."

"Are you sure you'll be okay seeing it? I don't want you to be miserable just for my sake. I know you're always busy, too," Jordan said, sounding half-hopeful and half-worried. 

"Jor, if you're there, it won't be the worst thing ever, and you said some of the others might come too. I know I'm busy, but I can take my work with me and record some lessons for the classes. I'll find a way of clearing time for my friends. You know I made time for everyone's eighteenth birthdays when they came up. I can make time for this. I'll make it work."

"Thanks, Jessie!" Jordan exclaimed happily. "If you were here, I would hug you."

"You can hug me when I get there. When is this thing?"

"Um, I forgot. In a few weeks, I think. They said they'd cover travel expenses. I need to find that letter again."

Jessica smirked; good old Jordan. Reasonably bright but a bit of a scatterbrain about essential details. "I'll find the letter. My mom probably intercepted it out of the mail and didn't tell me because she knows how I feel about that movie."

"I'll sit next to you when they do the screening so you can squeeze me if you need to— just not too hard; you're really strong, and I like breathing," Jordan replied.

Jessica frowned. "You know, you're wrong about one thing. I have forgotten some things. Mainly, I've forgotten anything that reminds me I was a pony. I can barely remember that anymore. I can remember events, but not that I had four legs and hooves. I'll sit remembering things and think it weird that I wasn't using my hands until I remind myself that I was a filly."

"That's the rehumanization spell's doing, right?" Jordan asked. 

"Supposedly," Jessica replied. "I feel like my memory should be good enough to override that. I remember everything else. I remember things from as far back as when I was three with high clarity and bits of things from before then. Things from when I was six should be easy, but that one part is like a huge hole that has been cut out. It bothers me sometimes. It's like something important is missing."

"You could ask Phobia, Rebecca, or your aunt to help you access those memories," Jordan suggested.

"No, I don't want them messing with my head," Jessica said firmly. 

"Why not? It's not like they don't see it anyway," Jordan countered.

Jessica sighed. "Call me crazy, but I like having the illusion I can limit access to what the Dreamwardens can get out of my head. I know it isn't true, but even the illusion of control is something."

"Oh…" Jordan replied, seeming unsure what to say. "So, uh, how did your first day of teaching go?"

"I got in trouble with the dean for using my magic on students to mute them."

Jordan gasped. "You can't do that! They go over that a dozen times in my Philosophies of Education textbook. No using magic on students! They'll sue you!"

"I know that now, and it won't happen again. I got off with a warning," Jessica said with a grumble. "But before you dig too deep into it, I will tell you what I told my mom. Teaching is your thing, not mine. I think I was insensitive to her, so let me stress that I appreciate that it is your thing, and I think it is great that it is, but for me, this is just a means to an end."

"I don't think you look down on me for wanting to be a teacher, and I don't think your mom does either. We want to have something else to connect with you about," Jordan said placatingly. "I mean, we listen to your math and physics stuff even though we don't understand a lick of it. It's important to you, so, of course, we will, but we aren't connecting as much with that. You just listened to me talk about how I want all the stallions hungry for me, and I know that you would have no interest in that subject normally, but you listen with interest because it's important to me. That's what friends do, but your teaching is something that me or your mom can go; hey, that's something I can relate to."

She rubbed her head and considered. "I'm sure something will come up where I want to talk about teaching. Maybe someone is struggling with the material, and I need advice on how to better get through to them or whatever. I have a freshman class starting tomorrow, and I imagine I might be talking over their heads. I can try sitting down with my mom and seeing if she'll help me go over the lesson plans."

"I can help too! I did student teaching last year," Jordan said excitedly. "It would give me bragging rights, too, if I could tell my class I was helping the famous Doctor Middleton with her college lesson plans."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Whatever makes you happy, Jor."

Jordan muffled her phone momentarily and was talking to someone in the background. Jessica could hear it fine since electronic devices seemed to help carry her powers, but she did her best to tune it out. 

"Hey, Jessie, I've got to get going. My roommates want to all go out and do a pledge thing. I'll text you tomorrow," Jordan said in a hurry. 

"Sure thing, you have fun. Don't do anything that you'll regret. I hear some of those pledge things get pretty wild," Jessica said with a smile. 

"My mom already gave me the lecture, don't worry. Talk to you later!" Jordan hung up the phone. 

Jessica sat her phone down. She didn't doubt for a second that Jordan's mom gave her a lecture. Jordan's mom had a policy of not telling her foals not to do things but spending a lot of time educating them about how to do things responsibly. Jessica's mom tended to have whiplash going back and forth between saying don't do X because it is bad and then wondering why she never did X and leaving out the whole responsible middle-ground part. Jessica assumed it was because her mom took it for granted; she knew what that middle ground was already. It irked her that her mom didn't think her being responsible as she could be was normal. She hated that word, normal. So many connotations involved with it, connotations that said she was anything but normal. 

That brought her back to thinking about Mark. Would meeting another partial help him open up? She didn't have the time to be trying to help her dad with his social work, and she wasn't exactly sure how to interact with a small child. Why had she agreed to it? Maybe it was for selfish reasons. Perhaps she was like Jordan, and she just wanted to meet someone else who was a partial in a world filled with humans and ponies. 

She looked at her phone again. That text message was still there, awaiting a reply about her progress. The world's end was coming, but not tomorrow; she had years yet. She'd rather spend a few days taking care of herself. Spending time with her family and friends let her loosen up and gave her a sense of freedom. She might get better results from students if she was a little less tense as well. Then there was Mark, who didn't need someone to save the world. 

She typed out a message. 

BigMath<Tell your bosses to get off my back that I need a few days to rest and relax for the sake of my sanity productivity. I'll contact them through direct channels when I've resumed my work.>

The sounds of her parents, brother, and Nightscape, all laughing at the antics of her niece, filled her ears. It was time to go back downstairs and be a part of the family. Smiling, she got up and exited the room, leaving the simulations to run without observation