//------------------------------// // 6. Cave of Pan // Story: Imperatives // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// The warehouse was on the small side; even so, the floor was mostly bare. Off in a corner workbenches had been set up, and several people were working there. Against the wall were free-standing shelving, mostly bare. Numerous boxes of stolen stuff had been laid about at random. This was where “The Section” was researching magic, research that was to be turbocharged by what Meg had left on her desktop computer. It ought to have made her feel guilty, to be enabling what would happen, and perhaps her younger self then vacationing in Las Pegasus would have felt guilt; life experience, it turned out, was an excellent immunizer. Besides, immutable past was immutable. “So what are we gonna do with you?” Virgil, the driver of the van, said. The other one, the one who had ridden in the passenger seat, stood next to him. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her, unsure what was happening. Unbelievable. And just over there was a storage room whose door had a key lock on the outside. “You could release me, so I could bring down the forces of good upon you,” she suggested. They’ll figure it out. “Wake up and smell the roses,” Virgil declared. “We’re the forces of good around here.” White was the dominant color; what wasn’t white was a shade of gray, with the exception of orange accents. The furnishings were simple and clean designs made of wood. It had a certain elegance of its own, even if it did not offer the impression of luxury. Twilight wished Rarity could see this. Surely she would have been fascinated by this Aegean design language. The officers had left, having found nothing of concern in the house Kyle had rented in the Neos Kosmos area, not far from the Acropolis. A security detail would keep watch outside for as long as they were present and another would accompany them wherever they went. Whether they were there primarily to safeguard “Prince Androgeos,” as they preferred to call him, or whether it was to also safeguard Yearling and especially herself, as Reubens predicted, wasn’t clear to Twilight—not that it really mattered. It certainly did nothing to address the pressing issue of the moment. “Yearling and I will take one of the upstairs bedrooms,” Twilight said. Kyle consulted the floor plan in the paperwork. It was a house architected like no house Twilight had ever seen, subdivided into three self-contained apartments. “That leaves the other upstairs bedroom,” Kyle said. “Remember each bedroom has just a single queen-sized bed and a sofa bed.” The two Secret Service agents looked at each other. “One of us should be in that other bedroom,” Fowler said. “Any objection?” Reubens shook his head. “No, you take it.” “And as I am the only other woman…” Samantha said. “I guess we share the room. Just remember I take the security of the ponies very seriously.” “I quite understand.” “Alright, the upstairs apartment has been taken care of. That leaves the two ground floor apartments, with a total of three bedrooms. You can have the one bedroom apartment to yourself, Mr. Reubens.” “Thank you.” Kyle clapped his hands. “Now that’s all been taken care of, we should all get a good night’s sleep. We’ve had a long day, we’re all jet lagged, and we have a busy day tomorrow.” The monitor was blank. Surely just the screen saver. As if screens in this realm needed saving. Well, they shouldn’t. Meg twitched the mouse. “This… doesn’t look good,” observed Sunset. No, it didn’t. The portal manager wasn’t running. Meg doubled-clicked on it. What popped up showed the status of all currently open portals. She went to the history menu item and clicked it. “Great,” she said. They were right back where they started. “I guess we shouldn’t have attempted to augment portal management to support portals to Tartarus. Looks like it rebooted the system, if that makes any sense here.” “But did it work?” Moondancer asked. Meg navigated to portal creation. “Nope, doesn’t look like it.” Try as she might, she could find nothing to select a realm. It still hard-coded the human and Equestrian realms. “Might as well restart the history dump.” She went back to history. This time, she set the filtering options to go back a mere 5000 years. And got a wait cursor. “This time we’ll let it go to completion,” Sunset offered. “Why should it take so long?” Moondancer asked. “Aren’t computers supposed to be fast?” “Beats me,” Meg said. “Who knows where or how the information is recorded, or what it takes to retrieve it. Remember that computers didn’t exist thousands of years ago.” The Tartarus problem returned to her thoughts, and she slumped in the chair. “Why can’t it be as easy as taking a plaid pill. Just think ‘Tirek’s cell in Tartarus’ and—boom!—there you are.” Sunset Shimmer and Moondancer stared at her. Meg stared back. “No. That’s crazy. It can’t possibly work. Wrong realm. Restricted magic.” Sunset kept staring at her. “I grab him with my magic and invoke the return spell. Nopony has a clue what happened. The perfect escape.” “That’s…” Meg groaned. “Fine. There’s only one way to prove this can work—if it works.” Twilight gently deposited their luggage onto the gray tile floor. It was just as well they had actually packed stuff; maybe questions would’ve been raised if customs had found them to be empty? She closed and locked the bedroom door, then cast a privacy spell. She looked out the window. It was night. Her internal clock refused to believe it; she woke up only a few hours ago on the flight over. “So this is jet lagged?” Yearling stood beside her, also staring into the darkness. “Weird realm. Why isn’t it the same time of day everywhere, like in Equestria?” The astronomy lessons could wait. “It’s… different here and let’s leave it at that. For now.” “Well, I’m not sleepy. Should we go check out this ‘Cave of Pan?’” It was night, true, but it wasn’t dark, not really. The glow from all the street lighting and other outdoor sources of light rendered navigation feasible. Even so… “The inside of that cave will be pitch dark. If I provide light, it may be noticed by others. We’re not in the middle of nowhere, like I thought this cave would be.” “You don’t have a spell to block the light from escaping the cave?” Actually, she did, now that she thought about it. “We would still have to find that cave. In the dark. Is there really such a rush? There’s no reason to expect we’d find anything.” Yearling slumped. “Maybe I’m just itching to stretch my wings. I’ve never worn this outfit for so long before.” Twilight wasn’t sleepy either. They could simply return to Equestria; they had never intended to sleep in this realm. But what if there was something for them to discover? Did she really want that discovery to be part of a human documentary? Well, possibly yes, actually. But she’d first have to know what it was in order to know if she did. Twilight walked over to her luggage and opened it. The laptop computer, the one she reserved for accessing the human internet with all its attendant dangers, floated out and over to the bed. “Let’s see what we can find out about this cave.” After using the wi-fi password they had been given, a quick search for “cave of pan” revealed there was no shortage of such caves, many of them in computer games. She added the word “acropolis” and got what she wanted—including pictures. “Three openings, just like Andy said.” “Northwest slope,” Yearling added. She had already ditched the cloche hat and fake glasses. Looks like we’re doing this. Twilight switched off the magic generator in her saddlebags, which she was still wearing. “If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it invisible.” They had gone invisible as soon as the generator switched off and their magic bubbles re-activated. Yearling—Daring? No that didn’t seem right when she wasn’t wearing anything, not the least her explorer outfit—stretched her wings. “So cast the spell and let’s get going.” “We’re already invisible—trust me on that. Inaudible too. Long story.” “I can see you. And hear you.” “And I can see and hear you. We’re still invisible and inaudible.” Yearling shrugged. “So we just sneak out the bedroom and up to the roof-top garden?” “Safer to just teleport to the other side of that window. Start hovering.” Princess Celestia entered the chamber behind her throne and closed the door. “I can spare a few minutes, Meg. I trust this is important.” Moondancer fidgeted in her seat at a simple and functional table. Sunset Shimmer was calm, accustomed to being in the presence of the princess. Meg got down to business. “We think we’ve figured out how we broke—will break—whatever—Tirek out of Tartarus. We need to put it to the test.” “I see. Please continue.” “We use one of Discord’s plaid pills.” Celestia blinked. “That possibility had never occurred to me. I agree it must be put to the test, and soon. I shall oversee it personally; the Tartarus bureaucracy requires a delicate touch.” She turned to leave. “I shall send for you once I have cleared my calendar.” A pair of winged ponies approached the Acropolis. It was impossible to miss, what with its ruins lit up like a Hearth’s Warming Tree. But what they sought was below, unlit, on the side of the hill upon which the ruins had been built. “Pretty sure it’s this way.” Daring Do banked—it was impossible for Twilight to think of her as anypony else under the conditions, naked or otherwise—to go clockwise around the hill, and Twilight followed her lead. In the dim glow of city lights, it wasn’t hard to see the caves as they went by. There were quite a few, all of which had been used to worship ancient gods, according to what they had read, even before the massive constructions on top had been built. Andy hadn’t seemed to care about that. Perhaps Minoans worshipped different gods. “There it is.” Daring descended. Twilight spotted it too. Even in this light, there was no mistaking those triple entrances. A modern stairway, with metal steps and rails, led straight to the Cave of Pan. They landed at the top. One entrance was to the left, the two others to the right. They weren’t that far apart from each other—less than ten feet? “Any preference?” Twilight asked. Daring thought for a moment. “Not really.” “Getting anything on your cutie mark?” The pegasus shook her head. “Hard to say what that means in this realm.” And their magic bubbles did not extend into the cave from where they were. Twilight would switch on the magic generator once they were inside and crank it up. “We’re not going to learn anything out here.” Daring walked to the left entrance and went inside. Twilight followed. Once inside, she put her checklist into action. First, she turned the magic generator back on and dialed it up; there would be no shortage of magic to impede them. Second, she cast a spell to render the entrances impermeable to light. The cave now pitch black, she cast an illumination spell to dispel the darkness. “I’m impressed,” Daring said. “No shadows.” She looked back at the alicorn. “Not from your horn?” She scanned the cave. “I can’t even tell where the light is coming from. Didn’t know you could do that; honestly I expected a horn light.” “That would cast shadows.” The cave wasn’t very big, and apart from having three openings it didn’t seem all that interesting. Some plants grew at the entrances, and water seeped down a wall—no doubt slowly but surely enlarging the cave. A path connected the entrances, and past the final one it burrowed into the hill, the sides closing in as it did so. It looked like a throat if anything, complete with “tonsils” bifurcating the way. Even a pony could not go far down that path; it wasn’t clear just how far it even went. But apart from the intriguing geology, there was nothing. Whatever had been here to worship Pan was long gone, hopefully in a museum. To expect anything from Andy’s era, back when a portal to Equestria was here… Daring made her way over to Twilight, eyes on that throat-like formation. “Maybe here? It’s really vague.” “What here? Was this where the portal was?” The pegasus sighed. “Beats me. I may just be imagining it. I certainly don’t see anything; I don’t think it’s something that might have fallen into a crevice back there either.” “I’m sure if something had, it’d have been found ages ago.” “I wouldn’t say otherwise. Are we done here?” Twilight gazed at the formation, thinking. It had been a long-shot, at best, true. She could search for magical traces, but after so long… even in Equestria it would be pointless. Here where magic decayed away like the radioactive substance powering her magic generator, it was doubly so. It still would have been nice to confirm Andy’s story. “Yeah, we’re done. We can return to Equestria. Save ourselves the flight back to the house.” “Uh, uh. Not without my disguise I don’t.” I suppose not. Twilight preceded to undo the steps of her checklist. “Okay, we’ll fly back.” Meg’s last two plaid pills waited in her saddlebag. Both of them would be needed. One for Meg herself, because only she had been inside Tartarus and thus knew where to go, and one for Sunset Shimmer, because for the test to be valid a unicorn would have to return with a “prisoner”—Moondancer filling that role. The latter was with Celestia, her “breakout” on hold as the princess used her “delicate touch” with the bureaucracy. All Meg and Sunset could do was wait in the Zephyr’s observation lounge until they received word to go ahead. Meg looked at her saddlebags again. “There’s always the portals,” Sunset reminded her. “We know how to reboot the system if that history dump refuses to finish.” Meg didn’t respond. There was no need to repeat her refusal to go through a portal while her world’s insanity persisted; the return feature of the pills was too invaluable. Didn’t mean a portal wouldn’t be useful; Susie could be brought to Equestria that way. She stared once more at the Gates of Tartarus and the guards patrolling it. They suddenly reacted to something. It was another guard galloping from the direction of Tartarus. The newcomer slowed to a halt at the gate, to be scanned per protocol. After passing the scan, the guard resumed galloping to the ship. “Let’s see what the word is,” Sunset said as she trotted to the door and opened it. The guard arrived seconds later, breathing hard. “It’s a go. Tirek’s old cell.” “Making it as realistic as possible,” Meg fatalistically observed. She got the jar holding the pills out of her saddlebag. “Let’s get this over with.” Sunset came over and used her magic to lift the pills out of the jar. She presented one of them to Meg. “Just remember that if it doesn’t work, we’ll probably find ourselves high in the sky over some random location—in which realm I won’t even speculate.” “Be ready to invoke the return spell. Got it.” Meg extended her wings and began to hover. Both ponies took their pills into their mouths but did not yet swallow. Just outside Tirek’s cell in Tartarus, Meg thought, then swallowed. Bars filled her vision, and she fell to the ground. Ouch. Yep, they were in Tartarus alright. Barely functional flight magic. There was Moondancer, inside the cell, oblivious to her arrival. To her side was Sunset, and to her other side… Celestia, standing next to several minotaurs. All waiting. Invisibility seemed to be working; there had been some debate on whether that would work in Tartarus. “Let’s kill the invisibility in three… two… one… now.” The minotaurs became quite unhappy. “Naturally, we will look into countermeasures,” the princess assured the Tartarus officials. “They haven’t broken me out of this cell yet,” Moondancer said. “We don’t know if we can even return to the Zephyr ourselves,” Sunset added. Who are we kidding? Whatever this realm had against magic, chaos magic was evidently exempted. “Let’s just get it over with,” Meg said once again. Moondancer positioned herself at the bars. Sunset got as close as she could to her and grabbed her in her magic. They both vanished. Meg sighed in resignation. So that’s how we do it. Still left the question as to when they’d go back in time to do so. The officials had become even less happy, if that was possible. “You still believe Cerberus was removed from Tartarus in this same fashion?” one of them asked of Celestia. “I would think that likely.” “But why? His removal was obviously unnecessary in light of this demonstration.” “A way of covering their tracks, perhaps?” “Quite effective, too,” another grumbled. “We were all convinced he had to have exited via the Gates.” Meg had no desire to be a part of this conversation. What would these minotaurs do if they ever found out she and Sunset were the ones who broke Tirek out? “I should return to the others,” she hesitantly put out. Celestia gave her a nod. “Of course. I shall not be here much longer myself. Please inform Captain Shooting Star of our imminent departure.” Their bedroom was exactly as they had left it. Yearling was already putting back on her disguise. “I’m returning to Equestria now,” Twilight said. “You can return when you’re ready.” Twilight invoked the return spell, returning her to her residence within the Castle of Friendship. Midday sunlight poured in through the windows, matching what her internal clock had been insisting. “Maybe sleeping here isn’t the wisest choice,” she muttered. “You’re back?” called out Spike’s voice from upstairs. Seconds later he peeked between the railings. “There’s a message from Celestia.” He pointed at the desk. “A message? From Celestia?” It had to be important; Celestia knew she would be in the human realm. She lost no time in levitating the scroll over. “So what’s it say?” A bright flash. “Wouldn’t you rather hear what I have to say?” Twilight frowned at the gleeful draconequus. Come on, Twilight. You know it’s best just to let him get it out of his system. He wasn’t going anywhere until he did. She returned the scroll to the desk. “I’m listening,” she tolerantly said. “I’ve made excellent progress on my theme park. You simply must pay it a visit! I’m so looking toward your feedback.” Right. A chaos theme park. It had completely slipped her mind. “Wouldn’t Meg be better suited for that? It’s for humans, after all.” Almost immediately she regretted saying that; Meg didn’t need this either. “Of course, of course,” Discord said, waving a claw around. “Unfortunately she’s tied up with Sunbutt right now, and you know what a party-pooper she is. So you are the lucky pony!” Twilight thought Meg was the lucky one. She held back a groan. This theme park was something she’d have to eventually personally inspect, there was no question of that. But did it have to be right this second? “I’m rather tied up myself right now. I’m accompanying Andy on a visit to his original homeland.” He was about to point out the obvious. Twilight preempted him. “I’m just here to get some sleep.” She looked around; why hadn’t Yearling returned yet? Discord wasn’t buying it. “It’s noon.” “Not in Greece.” Paw slapped forehead. “Right. That insane heliocentric world of theirs.” “Long time, no see, Discord.” Yearling stepped into view. “Having better luck with your casino?” “Wait, what?” Twilight couldn’t believe her ears. “You have a casino, Discord?” Discord looked dumbfounded as well. A lit human lightbulb suddenly appeared above his head. He grabbed it and threw it away; it shattered into nothingness against a wall. “You also just returned from Greece. Having fun exploring human ruins?” “Ask me again tomorrow.” Addressing Twilight, she said, “The Discordant. It’s not far from Planet Do. Discord doesn’t own or operate it; he’s more of a creative consultant for them.” “They barely listen to me,” he grumbled. What would a Discord-themed casino even be like? That is, if Discord could have his way. “Maybe I could talk to them, encourage them to pay more attention to your ideas?” It only seemed fair. Any who entered knew what they were in for, presumably wanted to experience it—within reason. He waved it away. “I appreciate the offer, but that lot is too risk-averse. You’ll get nowhere with them. It’s only because of Celestia they did as much as they had.” He snapped his talons in renewed excitement. “I’ll put a casino, a proper casino, in my theme park!” He vanished. Yearling quirked an eyebrow. “Theme park?” “You don’t want to know.” The scroll from Celestia beckoned. And Celestia knew about his casino? Her magic retrieved it once more, this time without interruption. “Uh, so what’s it say?” Spike repeated from upstairs. Twilight wished she’d had the option of avoiding this encounter with Discord. Sighing, she unrolled the scroll and read it. “Looks like we might be able to find out about all portals created in the past, exactly when and where they existed. That’d be nice. Oh, this—” She remembered Yearling was present. “We may have figured out how Tirek escaped from Tartarus.” That must’ve been why Meg was “tied up” with Celestia. Too bad Discord wasn’t still around. She would’ve loved to ask him whether those plaid pills could do that—why they could do that. Well, maybe not with Yearling around. Twilight rolled up the scroll and sent it up to Spike. “Put it away, Spike.” Spike grabbed it out of the air and departed. Yearling look up at the sunlight streaming through a window. “So how are we supposed to get some shuteye?” Twilight doubted the humans were doing much better. “Maybe there’s a spell I can adapt. Let’s go to the main library.” No sooner had the Zephyr docked in Canterlot, Meg, Sunset Shimmer, and Moondancer rushed to the mirror. Surely, after all this time, the history query would have completed. Meg was the first through the mirror. The monitor was in power saving mode, of course. She twitched the mouse and waited for it to awaken. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she groaned. “What could’ve caused a reboot this time,” Sunset asked. “Maybe it’s simulating beta software,” Meg grumbled. “It’s all the rage.” Perhaps they’d never find out about ancient portals. She restarted the portal management app. “Two active portals?” Moondancer exclaimed. Indeed there were. “How can there be another portal?” Meg asked. “No one else has access to this realm! I mean, Twilight does, but… no!” “Better shut it down,” Sunset said. “Right.” Meg selected the offending portal, then clicked the close button. “Permission denied?! What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Moondancer pointed at some numbers on the screen. “Perhaps we should be more concerned about where that is?” Meg took a look. The numbers were coordinates. The location on Earth was 37.97083652°N, 23.72611062°E. “We need a map.” There was also the location within Equestria. “Better make that two maps.” “Don’t look at the drone!” “Does it have to be so noisy?” Twilight folded her ears. It wasn’t the volume so much, it was that whine. Still she did her best to ignore it as she climbed the stairs, along with the others, to the Cave of Pan. The sooner they got inside, the sooner Kyle would be done with that bucking camera drone. “And try not to fold your ears!” She rolled her eyes. Sure, don’t do that either. A silent, magical lift system for drones ought to be at the top of her list of potential exports. She considered the groggy humans; make-up mostly hid evidence of their lack of sleep. Maybe that circadian rhythm adjustment spell she cooked up would sell well too. She and Yearling, in contrast to the others, were ready to tackle the new day. One by one they arrived at the top of the stairs, in front of the now familiar trio of openings. “Stay there a moment and contemplate the cave. Any words, Andy? Wait for the camera.” Mike the cameraman and Dominic the soundman quickly got into position between Andy and the cave. “Go ahead,” Mike said. “I can’t believe it’s been thousands of years since I last stood here,” Andy began. “It almost feels like it happened yesterday.” He smiled at a private joke. “Almost.” He addressed Twilight. “In there was the portal. I’m sure there’s nothing left to find after so long, but I can at least point out its exact location.” “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” She might as well play along—for the camera’s sake, if nothing else. “Okay, now go inside. Make it look like it’s the most important thing you’ve ever done. Get moving; we can’t keep the public away forever.” Looking back down, Twilight could see the growing crowd being held back by Greek security forces. The cameraman went in first, walking backwards. “Keep going,” Andy told him, “staying to your right until you bump into, well, a wall that’s been gouged out. Better take it slowly.” Mike waved it away. “Been here before. Don’t worry about me; I know what’s back there.” Andy shrugged and entered next. He eyed the eroded limestone. “A bit bigger than I remember, if I’m not imagining it.” “It could well be,” Samantha offered. Twilight entered next; the others followed. She looked around as if seeing it for the first time; she was seeing it for the first time, in natural lighting. Slowly, pacing the cameraman, they made their way to the other end, where the “throat” was. Could it really have been located there? Perhaps Daring’s cutie mark had worked after all. “Just around this bend,” Andy said to his retinue. That would be the throat. “STOP!” Andy yelled to the cameraman. Mike turned around and saw the portal he had almost walked through.