//------------------------------// // 31. Once an Alicorn… // Story: Imperatives // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// It had been an incredibly long time since Meg had been so flabbergasted. “Are you saying you created me?” Discord tsk-tsked. “It’s not all about you, Meg; you were merely the ‘handle.’ When you were given reality, your entire world and its history going back thousands of years were given reality—and our world too.” He glared at the tree. “Not to mention millennia of my life I had precious little control over!” His eyes returned to Meg. “You know our worlds have been intermittently connected for millennia, and that doesn’t even include all those pesky time loops. Time loops, not coincidentally, you were usually a part of.” “Brother is correct. I spent too many centuries searching for a potential reality in which your world and ours would bond in friendship and harmony. It could have happened on its own, for it was always a possibility, but one whose amplitude was vanishingly small. I did not ‘create’ you, Meg; it’s more accurate to say I found you.” “Discord must be pleased,” Meg observed. “Sometimes, maybe chaos really is the answer,” Twilight replied. “I repeat what I just said.” Meg was half-surprised Discord didn’t show up to slap a star on Twilight’s horn. They were watching the news coverage in the latter’s residence. The talking heads were all reacting to the announcement from SILIcon that the newest alicorn would be making an appearance at the convention—said announcement including the photo Meg had taken of herself at Sugarcube Corner, a photo framed to show both the new horn and an old wing. Naturally they re-played the sound bites from the two human observers, from which everyone had inferred that Meg must have succumbed to the anomaly. Not too surprisingly, the talking heads speculated that may have had something to do with her ascension. They even played a clip from Magical Mystery Cure that laid out the events leading to Twilight’s ascension, noting that in both cases apparent death had occurred and surely that wasn’t a coincidence—except, of course, to those who claimed that it was. Regardless, that led to endless speculation of what Meg must have experienced in that starry realm, of how similar it was to Twilight’s experience—whether Celestia was involved somehow, and that sure yielded conflicting opinions—and what Meg was now the princess of. Meg doubted any of them would believe the actual truth. And because that wasn’t enough, they even speculated on what type of shake she had been consuming. It all begged the question, of course, of what it all meant. If any of them ever figured it out, Meg wished they’d tell her. She wasn’t holding her breath. Twilight used the remote to mute the volume. “Still no reaction from Routledge.” “Wonder if that’s good or bad. Heard from Serrell?” “Nothing yet.” “I repeat what I just said. Ugh. Hope that doesn’t turn into a catchphrase or something.” On the screen there were now two rows of five boxes, each box hosting its own talking head. I guess no one wants to be left out. “What about Andrew?” Twilight asked. “He must be eating up the attention.” Meg rolled her eyes. “He loves being the gatekeeper. Every talk show wants to book me, and they all have to go through him. I made it absolutely clear I was not available at this time.” “But eventually?” “Eventually, who knows. I’m in no rush. Hey, I just got an idea. We could do a panel together at the convention, talk about becoming alicorns. Discord might have to make a bigger room.” Twilight snorted. “We could do a press release on that. Imagine the reaction.” “Yeah. Discord would be pleased.” Meg took the remote with her magic and unmuted the sound; it was nice having magic. The news was more of the same, of course. Finally there was something different. Senator Routledge was about to make a statement; the screen showed a microphone waiting to be used. Lots of speculation over what he might say. Meg wished they would just hold their tongues until after he said it. The senator walked up to the microphone. “Here it comes,” Meg said. “We knew that Meg Coleman used Equestrian time travel magic to inflict the anomaly upon us, and now we know that Princess Celestia rewarded her for her services by making her a princess. I have requested the Attorney General to prosecute Ms. Coleman for treason to the United States of America, if not to all of humanity. That is all.” He walked away, ignoring shouted questions. Meg sighed. “And here I thought he’d merely subpoena me again.” “Surely nopony would believe that nonsense!” “Listen,” Meg said, pointing at the screen, “and we’ll find out.” For once, Meg saw reason for hope. Oh there were a few talking heads who enthusiastically agreed with Routledge, no question about it, but they were in the minority. Most were pointing out the awkward and unanswered questions that the senator avoided. Some repeated Twilight’s last public statement on the anomaly. One even accused Routledge of attempting the “a strong offense is a strong defense” maneuver. Eventually it got repetitious and Twilight muted the sound. “Not too bad, actually. Think it’ll help if I addressed the ‘princess’ claim?” Meg eyes stayed on the monitor. Now they were playing clips from the Hurst “press conference”; they included what Twilight had to say on the matter. “Don’t bother. Anyone who believes that won’t be persuaded by you—or me. Or Celestia.” “Yeah, you’re right. I hate to say it, but Discord really got this one right. We should just let them stew in their chaos for now.” A flash of light, and a star appeared on Twilight’s horn. She went cross-eyed staring at it. The offending star was soon gone. Meg rolled her eyes. “I know the feeling, trust me.” She looked up. “Any suggestions on what to do next?” “I’ll leave that in your capable hooves,” was what his disembodied voice said. “Well,” Twilight said, “at least this time he answered.” “Probably worried that not answering was becoming too predictable.” Another flash, and another star—this time on Meg’s horn. A knock on the front door. Meg trotted over and opened it, revealing a human Sunset Shimmer. A familiar pendant hung from her neck; it was probably just used. “Ready to go?” she asked. “Yeah, let me tell them we’re coming.” Meg trotted back to her phone as Sunset closed the door behind her. The response came soon after she sent the message. “Okay, we’re good.” She grabbed a plaid pill in her magic and walked over to Sunset. “I just ‘grab’ you in my magic, as if I was about to levitate you or something, right?” Sunset nodded. “That’s right. You can’t go wrong.” Sure, go tempt Murphy. Nonetheless she had been on the other end enough times. Just stay focused and get past this first time. She enveloped Sunset in her magic, as if she wanted to lift her, then took the plaid pill, pictured her brother’s living room, and swallowed. “No Twilight?” Meg gave her brother a big smile. “Don’t need her for this anymore.” She pointed at her horn. “Alicorn.” Seeing Sunset there too turned that big smile into a smile of relief. “See?” Sunset ask. “What did I tell you?” Lori entered the room. “Ready to go?” she asked Sunset. “I certainly am!” To Meg, she said, “You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll give you a call if you’re not here.” The two ladies departed, and a moment latter the rumbling of the garage door could be heard. Matt sighed, his eyes bathing her with… what, exactly? “In the good old days, I could complain about your fixation with cartoon ponies. But today?” He swung his arms wide. “You’re apparently a traitor now.” Only his dry tone made that tolerable. “My thanks for doing my part to save the world,” she replied, equally dryly. “I thought becoming an alicorn was your ‘thanks.’” “Enough already,” she said, turning away. “Fortunately, relatively few are buying that ‘traitor’ garbage.” Matt let out a fleeting laugh. “I’ll say. Did you hear the Russians will offer you sanctuary if they put you on trial? Possibly citizenship.” “They did? No, I haven’t. Guess I can thank Egor for that. I won’t take it, just so you know. No need.” “Because Equestria, I figured. They have to know that.” “Maybe they really want diplomatic relations with Equestria and think this would help. I don’t know.” Though maybe I should mention that to Twilight. It’d be a great way to pressure Routledge’s side. Matt rubbed his forehead. “Are you going to wait?” he asked. “Susie’s next door, by the way.” “No… I think I’ll work on Smooze’s new and improved voice synthesizer, now that Discord’s undone his little sabotage—don’t ask—so Smooze and I can have a serious chat about my presence in the very distant past.” “Okay, that’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear, and I think I’ll forget I heard it. I’ll let you know when they return.” “Wish I had the option of forgetting,” she muttered. “See you later.” She invoked the return spell. “Oh, Routledge will get the special counsel he demands, all right, but Meg will not be its target. To be prosecuted for treason, there needs to be at least two witnesses to give testimony of the crime. Only three individuals were present seconds before the alleged act, correct?” Twilight saw where this was going. “Myself, Austin, and Egor. All others were asleep and had been for several minutes.” Serrell smiled. “Exactly. None of you have accused Meg of treason, none of you will bear witness to her committing treason, two of you aren’t even citizens of this country. So unless Meg intends to freely admit to committing treason…” “I can safely say she won’t.” “Then all he has is the claim that Meg committed treason by pushing the button to create the anomaly, while hoping no one notices all the people who made that button and were about to push it themselves anyway.” She had never seen him so happy. “With Hurst being the connection between him and those people.” “A fact lost on no one. So the special counsel will investigate that warehouse, everyone connected to it, and whatever the hell was going on in there. Yes, they’ll have to subpoena Meg, for she’s a material witness, and I recommend she complies. You, too, for that matter.” Twilight had refused to appear before the Senate Judiciary Committee. “Can I say that Meg is not a princess, contradicting his claim?” “Absolutely! Even better if you can get a statement from Celestia herself, but you are a princess and therefore an authoritative source on who the Equestrian princesses are.” Twilight tilted her head at the president. “Wouldn’t Routledge simply say we were lying?” Serrell shrugged. “To prove that you were, he’s free to provide evidence that Meg truly is a princess.” “Right, good luck with that.” It really was looking good, though there were always complications… “What about all the material I recovered from the warehouse? I assume this ‘special counsel’ will want it?” “Yes, they will. Please disturb it as little as possible. That being said, there’s no denying only you are qualified to examine the spells they were working on. You’re the expert witness, basically.” Even Twilight knew that was too simple. “I’m hardly unbiased, or so would say the other side.” “And yet the only humans who could even begin to understand what they were trying to do would be the defendants, and they’re not exactly unbiased either.” He raised his hands. “It is what it is.” She guessed it was. “It’s all in a side tunnel of the cavern.” She hadn’t had a chance to sift through it herself. “Give me advance notice and they can come and inspect it.” “I’ll make sure they’re aware of that—though be aware they’ll want to take possession of it.” There was another topic she wanted to discuss, but she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to do so. It wasn’t strictly speaking any of his business, but it didn’t seem fair to blindside him, not after everything he had done for them. “Different topic. I’m sure you’ve heard about the Russians’ offer to Meg.” The president took a drink from a plastic water bottle then he looked off into the distance. “I have to admit, I never expected her to release just a photo, no words, and I certainly never expected the insanity that’d result.” “She took Discord’s advice.” Serrell nodded. “Figures. Can’t say I have much reason to complain, though.” His eyes jumped back to her. “She’s not seriously considering their offer, is she?” Twilight shook her head. “No, she’d just remain in Equestria, if it came to that. I figured they’d have to know that.” “They probably do. I can’t read their minds, but my guess is it’s just a way to send a message—to all of us. Meg should politely acknowledge the offer but decline. Concerning their desire for diplomatic relations… I can’t tell you what to do, but visibly pursuing that would mess with the heads of certain people here, and I don’t think that’d be a bad thing. But don’t quote me on that.” “What about official relations between us? It’s been stalled for quite a while now for various reasons. At least now we can establish a permanent portal, with customs on either end.” He took another drink of water. “I feel that things are coming to a head. The obstacles shouldn’t persist much longer. And remember what I said about the Russians? That would definitely help.” “And the impeachment trial?” Routledge was the public face of that. Surely if he was getting troubles of his own… A grin split his face. “Let’s just say I don’t want to jinx it.” Hardware-wise, Smooze’s voice synthesizer needed no updating. Software-wise… a complete overhaul. All that machine learning stuff was now irrelevant. In its place would go an optical character recognizer, to read the words that would appear on Discord’s new gemstone. Meg had spent the last half-hour in the otherwise unoccupied cavern researching the various packages available. She had remained an alicorn while doing so, figuring she needed to practice her magic-based keyboard and mouse skills. Though it was definitely getting easier, she’d still prefer hands for serious typing. But imagining the day that would no longer be the case had become possible. “Hey, Meg,” came Twilight’s voice. Meg turned away from the API documentation on the screen. “So on a scale of one to ten, one being not at all, how annoyed is Serrell with me?” “Pretty close to one, actually. He’s in a good mood—as in nine or even ten—watching Routledge self-destruct.” She gave a summary of the conversation. “So I’m going to the mounds of evidence we brought back and go through it. See what notes they have on their magic research. Before that special counsel takes it all away. I could use your help.” Meg turned back to the monitor. It could wait, she decided. “Sure, I could use a break.” After locking the desktop, she stood up. “He didn’t tell you the impeachment trial resumes tomorrow? Hurst is the star witness.” “No,” Twilight said as she starting walking. “Like I said, he didn’t want to jinx it by talking about it. Makes sense, though. The trial was put on hold until his observer could witness the events.” Meg shook her head. “That’s gonna be must-see-TV. So many ways it could go horribly wrong for Routledge. I’m surprised he’s even doing this. Probably feels he has no other choice.” How could he justify not questioning the very observer he himself had picked? The two alicorns navigated the tunnels until they arrived at the one they used for time travel. Both of them were lighting the way with their horns. Meg found it nice being able to do that. Thoughts of Smooze intruded. “By the way,” Meg started, “have you given any thought on how to travel back in time many millennia?” Twilight looked at her. “Is this about what Smooze said?” “Yeah. It has to happen eventually. Just wondering how soon.” They came to the final junction and turned right. “It can’t be done in any reasonable length of travel time, not even remotely. Not with the spells I have now.” The piles had become visible. “Not any time soon, then.” Maybe Smooze could give a hint about that, if only by how much she had grown by the time she made that trip. They reached the closest pile, which looked pretty much as Meg last remembered seeing it, back in the warehouse. “There’s my old office computer. We already went through that.” And her future self had cleansed it of anything not relevant to the time loop; the special counsel can have it. Twilight grabbed a folder in her magic. “Let’s start going through the paperwork. Be on the lookout for anything magic related.” She hastily added, “But I’ve been asked to disturb this evidence as little as possible.” Meg paused to look at the piles of stuff randomly piled on top of other stuff. Might be a little late for that, she thought. She went over to the next pile and looked it over. There were two more computers there, on their sides, but this wasn’t the place to turn them on. There was paper underneath them, so she moved one of them aside and stepped up, illuminating it with her horn. It looked like a project proposal of some sort, laying out a potential avenue of research. She flipped through several pages. “Looks like they wanted to invent a magic neutralizer. Is that even possible?” “Depends on what they mean by a ’neutralizer,’” Twilight said without looking up. Meg flipped through some more pages. “As a sort of weapon?” “To be used from a distance? Sounds improbable to me. Any evidence of progress?” “No, what I see here is just a proposal. How about you?” “Speculations and musings on magic, so far. I hate to admit it, but they weren’t as clueless as I’d thought.” “They did have all that stuff my future self left them,” Meg grumbled. “They’re still clueless enough to be dangerous.” Underneath that proposal was a folder. Meg opened it and went through its contents. “This may be promising. Looks like financial records, invoices, deposits… Doesn’t say where the money came from, but hopefully they can track that down.” Surely they’d start with who was paying the rent on that warehouse; those payments were included in these records. Meg’s phone rang. It was her brother. She accepted the call. “Hey, they’re back from their shopping trip.” She doubted Twilight had plaid pills on her. “It’ll be a bit before I can come, maybe thirty minutes, an hour tops?” “I’ll let them know. Bye.” Meg return her phone to its holder. “Looks like your new clothes are ready. I figure it’d be best to head back to your castle?” Twilight found herself towering over the other two mares. She had expected that, obviously, but expecting it and experiencing it were two different things. “So how do I look?” she asked, twirling from one side to the other. “Exactly how your future self looked,” Meg said, “apart from the absence of your cutie mark on the dress, of course.” She would soon get that dress to Rarity to fix that. “That leaves the question of magic.” Twilight looked down at her magic-less hands. “Like, for starters, how am I supposed to change back? I know my future self did that…” “But she wouldn’t tell you how, I know. How did you change back when you were a breezy?” “I still had my alicorn magic.” Twilight shook her head. “I still had magic.” Meg tilted her head. “Maybe you still do? We’re assuming you have no magic. But your future self clearly did.” Twilight leaned back against a bookcase. It was another paradox, just like Meg surviving the creation of the anomaly. Something quite impossible, yet happened anyway. Humans don’t have magic, yet her future human self did. There was a Plan C, of course; if she couldn’t figure out how to change back to a pony, she’d get Celestia or Luna to do it for her. Plan B was using Meg’s pendant, but since Discord’s magic had yet to transform her as she crossed between realms, there was little reason to think that would work. “So how did you change back from being a breezy?” Meg asked. “They don’t have horns.” “But they have antennae, and while they don’t consciously use them for magic, they still serve a similar purpose. So I just pretended they were horns and… it worked. If it hadn’t, I would’ve gone to Celestia. But at least breezies are magical.” Sunset peered up at the human in the room. “And you still had your alicorn magic, otherwise that spell wouldn’t have worked.” Twilight shrugged. “Obviously?” Meg squeezed her pendant, resuming human form herself. “So maybe we still do have our alicorn magic. We just need to figure out how to access it.” She walked over to a bookcase next to Twilight. Holding up a hand, she pointed a finger at a book. The book flew into her hand. “Wow.” Twilight couldn’t believe her eyes. “What did you do, exactly?” Meg returned the book to its place on the shelf—the human way, without magic. “I imagined I still had telekinesis, and pretended my finger was a horn. It didn’t glow, so maybe that last part wasn’t needed.” Twilight pushed off the bookshelf and turned around to face it. It couldn’t be that simple! She held out her hand and used telekinesis, as if she were a unicorn, to pull a book into it. It did so. She put it back with her magic. “No glow on the book either. Strange.” “There’s no glowing when Discord uses his magic,” Meg observed. “But this isn’t chaos magic…” Twilight shook her head. “Irrelevant for now.” It was time to put it to the test. She cast the isomorphic mapping spell on herself. “Congratulations,” Sunset said, smirking. “You’re a pony again.” It was true; she could feel four familiar hooves on the ground, a pair of wings on her back, and a horn on her head. Meg crossed her arms. “I wonder if this means I can use a plaid pill as a human?” Twilight smiled. “Why don’t we find out?” The alicorn teleported away and teleported back a moment later—as a human—two plaid pills floating beside her. “It should be safe enough. We’ve proved we’re magical.” “And it’d be a paradox if it wasn’t safe.” Meg took a floating pill with a hand. “Not that it’s a good idea to rely on that, I guess.” Even if it had worked out so far. Just seemed like a bad habit to acquire. Maybe not acquiring it is what made her future self’s visit non-paradoxical. Meg got her phone out and called her brother. “Hey, mind if Twilight and I come over for a bit? We’ve got a surprise for you.” A slight pause. “Is this the sort of surprise suitable for small children?” “Yes, Matt, it’s okay for Susie to see us. Not sure if it’ll make her happy or not, but it won’t scar her for life.” “Fine. Come on over.” Meg put the phone away and nodded to Twilight. “Let’s go.” They appeared in Matt’s living room, as usual. Her confused brother was there along with his wife and Meg’s niece. “No unicorn?” he asked. “And who’s the guest?” Susie didn’t know what to make of it either. But Lori did. “The outfit looks good on you, Twilight.” Susie gasped. “Twilight?” “That’s right, Susie. I’m trying out being a human.” “But…” Matt started to say. “Don’t you need, you know, a unicorn to cross over? Magic?” Meg saw a remote control on the sofa. She used telekinesis to bring it over to herself, but left it floating in the air. “Funny you should mention magic. Turns out once an alicorn, always an alicorn—magically speaking, anyway.” Twilight looked behind herself, then teleported two feet backwards. “Yep, that still works.” “Cool!” Susie exclaimed. “Anyway,” Meg said, “that was the surprise. And we wanted to see if it actually worked.” She looked to the TV and finally brought the remote to her hand. “Mind if I check the news?” Her brother shrugged. “Sure, why not. Maybe one of you can make sense of it afterwards.” Meg turned it on and changed the channel. There was breaking news alright. “Looks like Serrell wasn’t kidding,” Twilight said. The special counsel was official. Everyone associated with that warehouse would be subpoenaed—including tomorrow’s star witness at the Senate Judiciary Committee.