//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Out to lunch // Story: Infinite Imponability Drive // by Pineta //------------------------------// The herd of little ponies walked into a large expensive-looking restaurant foyer, furnished with a selection of artificial palms, fountains, and statuary. Groups of iguanas, scorpions, bug-eyed monsters, and other alien lifeforms from across the galaxy paid them no particular attention. “How can there be a restaurant at the end of the universe?” said Zipp. “That doesn’t make any sense.” “It’s a great brand image. Very clever marketing,” said Pipp. “It makes it stand out and tells the customer they are in for a top-class experience. This will be great content.” She snapped some picture with her phone. “I don’t think it can really mean that it is at the end of the universe.” “It does!” said Izzy. “It’s Milliways, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. Built in a big time bubble projected forwards to the precise moment of the end of everything. I’m loving all the glitter they used.” “And they’ve got nice chandeliers,” said Rarity. “You should have told us we would be going somewhere flash. I would have brought another dress.” “How did you learn about it?” alicorn Twilight asked Izzy. “It’s in the guide,” said Izzy. “What guide?” “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy,” said Pinkie Pie. “Spike showed us a copy he borrowed from his new human friend on the ship.” Twilight said nothing. Zipp remained sceptical. “That is definitely impossible.” “I agree,” said human Twilight, who was scribbling equations in her notebook. “The clear consensus from experimental cosmology at the moment is that the universe will not end at a precise moment but will continue to expand forever asymptotically approaching absolute zero temperature.” They reached a long marble-topped bar. Pinkie Pie and Izzy started to scrutinise the drinks list. “How did you find this place?” alicorn Twilight asked Sunset. “I just asked the ship computer to take us to the nearest place to get lunch,” Sunset replied. “Somehow we have ended up at the end of the universe.” She paused and shrugged her shoulders. “Actually, I don’t have a clue what is happening anymore.” “Would you excuse me?” Twilight left her friends as if she were heading to the bathroom. She actually had no wish to inspect the alien toilet facilities but just wanted a moment alone to get her thoughts in order. She walked across the crowded room. A quartet of musicians on a raised platform started playing some soft jazz, taking full advantage of their greater-than-average number of limbs to work their string instruments. A group of snails dressed in tuxedos and bow ties were directed by waiters to tables in the main dining hall. “Twilight!” She turned upon hearing her name called by a familiar voice. “Princess Celestia! How did you get here?” “Luna and I hitched a lift.” Celestia nodded her head towards the bar where her sister stood next to a familiar stallion with an hour glass cutie mark. Luna and the Doctor waved their hooves. “Hi Twilight.” Twilight was momentarily speechless. Celestia looked around the room. “It’s an interesting place. A bit flashy… and,” she lowered her voice, “the food isn’t great. But you can meet some incredible creatures here.” “Sunset Shimmer brought us here,” said Twilight, “we’ve made some new friends. But, it’s actually all a bit confusing and I’m not sure exactly what is going on.” Celestia nodded. “Travelling a few hundred million billion years into the future can be a bit disorientating. Come, there’s something I’d like to show you.” She turned to Luna. “Excuse us for a moment. I’ll catch up with you later. If you can get the barman’s attention, order me a Sagittarius Sunrise with ice.” Luna nodded. Celestia lead Twilight back to the lobby, across the floor and into a Sirius Cybernetic Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter. “Hello my little ponies,” said the lift in annoyingly cheerful voice. “Which floor of Milliways—the Restaurant at the End of the Universe would you care to travel to today? The options are—well actually the options are rather limited as the lower kitchen floor is out of bounds to guests, as is the upper viewing gallery until later in the evening. However, I would be happy to listen to your future vertical transport itinerary before returning you to the main dining hall level.” Celestia briefing raised her eyebrows before replying with the diplomatic politeness befitting a princess, “We would like to go right down to level minus eight hundred and seventy-four. The old archives.” “I don’t think I can take you down there,” said the lift. Twilight and Celestia felt it shudder in its shaft. “That’s well below where restaurant guests need to go. And it’s dark down there. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.” “Wouldn’t you like a little adventure?” said Celestia sweetly. “And I’m sure you can do it to let an old princess show her student something important.” “Princess!” said the lift. “Of course your majesty. I would be delighted.” It suddenly sounded delighted. “We are all big fans of royalty in the elevator trade.” The doors slid shut and the lift dropped into free fall. Celestia and Twilight floated upwards and their manes flowed freely. “Where are we going?” asked Twilight. “To the archives of the Magrathean planet-builders,” replied Celestia. “The restaurant was built on the ruins of the planet Magrathea, which, eons ago, during the first galactic civilization, was their workshop, or the gateway to the vast hyperspace tract where they built planets. They engineered custom worlds for the fabulously wealthy elite of that time. All that ended long ago, but there are still records.” “They built planets?” “They were very good at it.” The lift stopped suddenly and the two alicorns were thrown to the floor. The door slid open to reveal a dark corridor. The light from the lift reflected off the polished walls and disappeared into a blackness far ahead. Celestia lit up her horn and walked ahead. “Glad to be of service,” said the lift. “You will be careful down here, won’t you?” After walking for a few minutes, Celestia stopped. “The archives record all the Magratheans’ projects. I would like you to look at this one.” She tapped her horn against the crystal wall, engaging with the long-dormant computer system with some mysterious magic. The wall lit up with images of the profile of a rotating planet and pictures of familiar landscapes. “Equestria!” “Indeed.” “Equestria was built by aliens!” “Several times. There were at least five generations of the project, as well as a few extra spin-offs. I understand ours was generally regarded as the best they did.” “But why?” At a long table in the restaurant dining hall, Sunny Starscout sat next to Hitch and Pinkie Pie, with a group ponies of all generations. “Eeeee!” she squealed, “this is so exciting. I wonder what sort of food they serve here? Do you think they have pizza? I wonder what toppings they have. Will they do smoothies? Maybe I can get some ideas for new flavours.” “I hope they have some good cakes,” said Pinkie Pie. A quadruped hooved creature with large eyes, very like the ponies, but plumper, approached the table and sat down next to Pinkie Pie. “Hello dear guests,” it said, “I am the Dish of the Day. What part of my body would you care to eat today?” Zipp was immediately suspicious. “What is this guy trying to solicit?” she whispered to Sunny. “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Sunny. “We know ponies and other creatures use languages in different ways. Maybe he just wants to make friends.” Izzy was not deterred by the bizarre opening remark. “Hi new friend, my name’s Izzy. We’ve come from Equestria. We picked up lot of new friends on the way. What’s your name?” “I am the Dish of the Day,” repeated the bovine creature. “I do hope you will consider part of me for your main course. A nice sirloin or rump steak perhaps? I can ask the chef to trim off any excess fat if you like. Or I’m sure my neck would be delicious when grilled.” “Err… we’re vegetarian,” mumbled Zipp. “You want to be eaten!” said Pipp, “That’s crazy.” “Of course I do,” said the Dish of the Day sincerely. “I am Ameglian Major pedigree stock that wishes nothing more than to please diners with a great meal of my body. I give you my clear verbal consent. Can you say as much for all the vegetables that you have devoured?” “I guess that’s… sort of logical,” said Zipp. She looked uncomfortable. Pinkie Pie disagreed. “No no no no no. It’s not logical at all.” She shook her head vigorously. “Any creature who offers me a good meal is my friend. But I can’t eat my friends. That wouldn’t be friendly at all.” “That would be very poor etiquette,” said Rarity. “I regret that you feel that way,” said the Dish of the Day. “I think we need to talk to the restaurant manager,” said Sunny. “I think we need to go to the kitchen,” said Pinkie Pie, “and help our new friend to cook a proper meal.” She put a hoof around the Dish of the Day’s neck. “Come on every pony!” “The origin of Equestria is a long story. Are you sitting comfortably?” Twilight rested her haunches on the floor and looked at her mentor with the hopeful eyes of a star student about to learn something new. Celestia began the tale. “It began on a small planet in a parallel dimension, inhabited by population of ape-descended beings. By all accounts it was an unremarkable place, in an unfashionable part of the galaxy, with a primitive civilization obsessed with digital watches and portable telephones. For some reason, these little apes had a fixation on drawing horses and ponies. Maybe it was because they were embarrassed by their own ancestry. As soon as they had learnt to draw, they covered their cave walls with pictures of wild horses. Later, once they had developed more sophisticated painting techniques, they would commission large oil paintings of their favourite ponies. The best of these would change hands at auction for huge sums of money. “Then one day, a girl, sitting on her own in a small café in Santa Clarita, California, picked up a sketchbook and pencil and drew the most perfect image of a pony ever created. The large cute eyes, coloured mane and tail, body shape, hooves… everything about it was just right. Shortly after, she signed a contract with a major animation studio, and in due course the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic came out. A cartoon series about the adventures of a group of pony friends and their quest to spread the magic of friendship. “It was a mega hit, surpassing all expectations. The show appealed to an audience far beyond the young children it was aimed at. It found a community of adult fans, which grew and grew. Everybody wanted to see the latest pony adventure. More series were produced, then feature films, along with books, toys, and T-shirts. Fan artists and writers appeared and produced a huge volume of extra material. The show went from strength to strength, and everyone loved it. However, this then caused a serious problem.” “What was that,” asked Twilight. “As they were spending so much time watching pony cartoons, they were not doing their jobs. Productivity fell. Soon the economy was in steep decline. To address the problem, the World Bank convened an international summit. Unfortunately, the president of the most powerful country arrived unprepared as he had spent his flight there reading the latest fan fiction instead of his briefing notes. He spent several days meeting other world leaders, during which they talked about the latest pony episodes and argued about the ranking of their favourite characters. They left better friends than ever. Diplomats rejoiced at the rise of international friendship and foretold a new era of peace and harmony. However, no one had a strategy to fix the economy. Incomes fell while costs went up. But instead of addressing the problem and developing a strategy to fix it, they all retreated to their bedrooms, curled up with their soft toys and comic books, and hoped it would go away. This sort of thing does happen to advanced civilizations now and then, and normally, it would have just set back their progress by a million years or so. However, in this case, another twist of fate occurred.” “What happened?” “A talent scout from the Betelgeuse Broadcasting Corporation was flying by in her space ship. She happened to tune in and see the show. Recognising its potential, she landed and negotiated a deal for the galactic sub-ether distribution rights. This gave a cash boost to the local economy, and as the show found an audience across the galaxy, every major galactic media producer wanted more. They came to the source planet wanting more commissions, which the natives were happy to provide. Pony cartoons became the planet’s most profitable export, and it brought in a lot of money. In a few years, they went from the verge of economic collapse, to being one of the richest worlds in the galaxy.” “What did they do with all that wealth?” “They eliminated poverty, provided free health care and education for all, cleaned up the environment, and invested in culture and the arts. Then they bought lots of de-luxe pony toys. They commissioned pony art from the greatest artists in the galaxy, and fan fiction from the greatest writers. They lived the pony-fan dream lifestyle, and went to sleep each night under their soft rainbow duvets, snuggling up with their custom plushies, and dreamt of a world of friendship and colourful horses. They were happy. But soon they wanted more. They wanted their imaginary world to be real. Which at first seemed impossible, but as the revenue poured in from trillions of planets of TV-viewing lifeforms, they had the money to make it happen. So, they approached the Magratheans and asked for what they wanted.” “They commissioned Equestria! Our home world came out of monkeys’ dream!” “Not monkeys—they were apes. The Magratheans were master world builders. They designed the core geology of our planet, including the internal imponability field that drives Equestrian magic. They populated the world with unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, as well as dragons, griffins, and all the other creatures we know.” “B-but.. if Equestria was built as a plaything for rich apes, why have we never seen them? Didn’t they want to visit? Where are they?” “There is another, sadder, twist to the tale. The services of the Magrathean corporation are extremely expensive. And as the project progressed, there were many costly extras. They wanted it to be perfect. The planetary crust had to be filled with cut-and-polished gemstones. The clouds had to be as soft as bedding, but as sturdy as buildings. The sky had to be filled with rainbows on demand. Our primates were rich, but they still had to borrow heavily from the central galactic bank to finance it. Then, just as the project was nearing completion, the galactic economy nose-dived. Productivity collapsed due to the delayed impact of millions of worlds getting distracted by pony cartoons. The income stream financing the project vanished. They were unable to make the loan repayments. The galactic bank seized Equestria. The bankers were slow to see what had happened as they were far too serious and boring to watch kids cartoons, but once they identified the cause of the economic instability, they cancelled all pony production, censored all fan works, labelled Equestria as Extremely Dangerous and sealed it off from the rest of the universe in a force bubble that could be crossed only with an infinite imponability field. And, it is in such isolation we have existed ever since.” “And what became of the planet of the apes?” “They were thrown back into poverty and cut off from the world they loved. They were very unhappy. For a few million years, they all cried every day, clutching their soft pony toys to their hearts, and lamented their loss. Then they forgot all about us, evolved into dolphins, and learnt to mess around in the water and have a good time. “Wow,” mumbled Twilight. She fell silent as her brain tried to take in and catalogue all the new information in Celestia’s story and failed. “I think it’s time we got back to the surface,” said Celestia. “We don’t want to miss the end of the universe.”