//------------------------------// // 32. Smooze Says Something // Story: Imperatives // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// Meg collapsed to her haunches. “You found me,” she protested. “Of all the possible realities in superposition, you picked this one. Everything I know about quantum mechanics says that’s impossible. Wave function collapses are non-deterministic, random. You can’t pick an outcome.” “Which is why I spent most of my time outside reality as you understand it. There, the rules governing observations are different.” Meg wasn’t buying it. “But most of your time is not all. And by ‘picking’ a reality, you also ‘pick’ what you do and what happens to you in the ‘picked’ reality—including, I presume, in your own future!” Discord was fuming. “Not just her future, but mine as well! And not just our futures, but even, to an extent, our pasts!” Twilight looked confused. “Your pasts?” Ripples flowed across the tree. “Reality is constructed piecemeal, one wave function collapse at a time. Those collapses usually follow the apparent flow of time; however, they often do not when time loops are involved, due to their tangled causality. It is no coincidence the reality I picked had numerous time loops.” It had been over century since her life had been in turmoil, but Meg hadn’t forgotten. “Couldn’t you have picked one that had been kinder to me?” It was a helluva lot better to be watching it on TV than to be there in person, being interrogated, no question about it. Kimberly Hurst was just sworn in. “Still can’t imagine how this doesn’t blow up in Routledge’s face,” Meg said. Spike came in, holding a tray with two steaming cups. “Oh, that’s easy,” he said. “A Power Ponies comic a few months ago had this exact same scenario. The evil politician simply disavows any connection with his accomplice.” Twilight grabbed a cup in her magic. “This is real life, Spike, not a comic.” Meg had used her magic to fetch the other cup. It turned out to be hot chocolate. “Besides,” she said, “there is a connection. He picked her to be an observer. He can’t pretend that didn’t happen.” “Just wait. You’ll see.” The baby dragon returned to the kitchen. Even so… The senator didn’t seem any different. Either he had an awesome poker face, or… But how could that be possible? Regardless, Spike sure made a fantastic hot chocolate. The formalities were over. Senator Routledge spoke into his microphone. “Ms. Hurst,” he began. “When my team vetted you to be our observer at that warehouse, you appear to have neglected to mention your connection with the people behind it.” “Told you!” came Spike’s voice from the kitchen. “Please provide the details on that connection right now.” There were two boxes on the screen, the left showing Routledge and the right Hurst—who did not appear to be particularly stressed. “On the advice of my lawyer, I am taking the fifth.” Nor did the senator seem fazed by that response. “Did you see Meg Coleman at the warehouse?” Hurst briefly leaned over to her lawyer seated beside her. “On the advice of my lawyer, I am taking the fifth.” Routledge seemed bemused by that. “Come now, it’s no secret she was there. How could admitting to seeing her—or not seeing her—lead to self-incrimination?” “On the advice of my lawyer, I am taking the fifth.” “Do you know Meg Coleman?” “On the advice of my lawyer, I am taking the fifth.” “Do you have any connection to President Serrell?” “On the advice of my lawyer, I am taking the fifth.” Meg hit the mute button. “I guess you were right, Spike,” she shouted. “And Hurst is willing to be the fall guy because she’s under investigation by the special counsel anyway.” Twilight scoffed. “I love how he’s trying to imply that you and the president are connected to their operation, and of course she has the perfect excuse to not deny it.” Meg stared at the TV, trying to work up the will to unmute the sound. It seemed pointless. How many times could she stand to hear “I am taking the fifth?” She stood up. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to the cavern. It has to be more productive than this.” Twilight turned off the TV. “I’ll join you.” When the two mares arrived in the cavern, they found activity galore. Professor Arcane Scroll, Sunset Shimmer, and Moondancer were all huddled around a workstation. The humans were clustered around a different workbench, working on something Twilight couldn’t see for all the bodies around it. Sunset noticed their arrival first. “Twilight. Perfect! We think we have a solution to the anomaly.” “You do?” Twilight asked, trotting over. “Indeed,” the professor said. “You had the right idea, but the anomaly had become too big for you to tackle. So what if instead of one beam of magic, we had dozens, even a hundred?” “We simulated it,” Moondancer said, “and it ought to work.” Twilight watched as the unicorn started a simulation run. About two minutes later it finished. It certainly seemed to work. It didn’t even take longer than the time Discord could maintain a displacement into hyperspace. But it had a fundamental, obvious flaw: “We don’t have dozens of ponies who can cast that spell, never mind those who can also hover in position around the anomaly.” “That’s where we come in,” Jerry declared. The humans stepped away, revealing a familiar looking object. “We’re making progress on recreating that spell-casting machine. Once we get it working, we just need to reduce the total weight of the system, add a remote control, make dozens of copies, and put them on drones. Program the drones to hover in position around the anomaly, and tell them to beam away.” “And I somehow missed you working on all that?” Meg asked. Diana shrugged. “Recently you haven’t been around when we were here working on this.” Meg opened her mouth to answer, but then thought better of it. Twilight stepped up to the machine and inspected it. “I have to admit that sounds promising. But what about the power source? Each of them will need the biggest magic generator you can build, preferable bigger.” Martin walked over to a certain locked door and knocked on it. “Fortunately, we have plenty of raw material for them back here.” Twilight’s eyes shifted from Martin and the nuclear waste, to Dianna and the prototype spell-casting machine, to Arcane at the workstation. “This could work,” she said, but then the complications came to mind. Discord was needed, obviously, but that shouldn’t be a real problem. There was that spell slowing time at the boundary for the purpose of slowing the anomaly’s growth, but that could be canceled—but the resumed inward flow of air would affect the drones. Details, details. Subjecting their entire world to displacement again… “But we need to be absolutely sure it’ll work. We can’t afford another failure.” “Well,” Martin began, “there is the risk we can’t make it light enough for a drone to carry it. A powerful magic generator’s gonna weigh a lot.” Twilight considered that. Worst case, a spell could reduce—no, not in that realm. Yet pegasi can fly… Regardless: “It’s the best chance we have. I’ll mention it to the president.” “Out of curiosity,” Meg said, “how much will dozens of ‘big enough’ drones cost? Not that we wouldn’t have a blank check.” Martin shrugged. “Six figures, easy? Better question is, how long will it take to get that many?” “You can buy them on Amazon,” Dianna said. “I checked already. And, yeah, the heavy duty ones can cost several grand.” “We still have to figure out how to program them to fly to and hold designated positions,” Jerry added. “Drones that support that would obviously be better.” He shrugged. “Even if it costs more.” “It would be better still,” Twilight said, “if the drones can maintain position against a strong wind. I may have to cancel that time dilation spell I put on the anomaly’s boundary, so the beams of magic can do their job in a timely fashion.” “We didn’t include the time dilation in the simulation,” Moondancer admitted. “We should do that and see how much it matters.” “I’ll get you the exact spell I used,” Twilight said. It was still the best chance they had. She looked around for Meg and found her at her workstation, once again human. She went over to her. Meg noticed her and resumed her rapid typing with those fingers—something Twilight still struggled with. “Putting the finishing touches on version two point oh of the voice synthesizer,” Meg said. “I want that conversation with Smooze.” “Let me know when you’re ready. I’d like to participate.” “No problem.” Meg clicked a button and sat back. “This afternoon, I hope.” Looking at the screen, Twilight concluded that a “build” was happening. I really need to study computers. So far she had only dabbled in software, yet it kept getting more clear just how much human technology revolved around computers, and that software was how one made them do their magic—and “magic” might not be too strong a word. From what little she did know, some similarities were present. It called for research. Human footsteps approached. Turning around, Twilight spotted Dianna. “Uh, any chance we can meet Smooze?” the human asked. “Get a selfie with him?” Looking back, Twilight found the other two humans looking their way. “I’ll… see what I can do. He’s in Ponyville right now, and humans aren’t allowed there, you know, and… I’ll see what I can do.” Flying to Ponyville had become second nature to Meg. That it was literally all downhill didn’t hurt. This day, though, a storm was brewing over croplands to the north of the town, and she and Twilight would have to make a minor detour to avoid the pegasus work crews brewing it. Twilight edged a littler closer to her. “We should get serious about your magic theory and spell casting training.” Off in the distance Meg thought she could see Rainbow Dash’s colors amongst the other pegasi. She was probably too busy to notice them flying by. “Sure, in our copious free time. Not that we shouldn’t, but…” “Tell me about it,” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes. “But we should squeeze it in, somehow. And… in return I’d like you to train me in programming computers. I should get serious about that too.” Meg studied her. “Oh?” “I think there might be similarities between the two, and I’d like to research that.” Meg resumed looking ahead to their destination. “You think so? I mean, sure, I guess. If it helps me grasp magic theory that’d be awesome.” Steve had never mentioned any such similarities, but then programming was something he merely dabbled in. Maybe it was something deep, not superficially evident? “Only one way to find out.” “Can’t deny that,” Meg admitted. “So, about the gang meeting Smooze… You’re going to transport him to the cavern?” “That’s one option.” “You could let them visit Ponyville, you know. It’s your rule, after all. I’m sure they’ll behave themselves. Not mention that cartoon, or mysteriously greet everypony by name.” They flew on in silence for a bit. “You’re not wrong. Maybe I have to start somewhere. If Derpy wasn’t freaked out by your true nature, then maybe—maybe—I over-reacted a bit.” Meg suppressed a snort. “We should introduce them to the flower sisters—you know, Lily, Daisy, and Rose—and if they don’t freak out…” Twilight did let out a snort. “I’m half tempted to do that. Wait until they discover humans don’t eat flowers.” Meg put hooves to face. “The horror, the horror.” They both broke down laughing. Perhaps that trio didn’t deserve the mocking, but Meg couldn’t help noticing that Twilight wasn’t objecting. Whatever. At least the fate of two realms didn’t fall upon them. Lucky them. Sugarcube Corner rapidly approached. They landed and went inside. “Well. That’s new,” Meg said, pointing at a table being cleaned. By Smooze. Part of him was extruding over the entire surface. The ponies at the other tables paid him no attention. “Sure is!” Pinkie stood by their side. How she got there… don’t think about it. “Real good at it, too!” Well, sure, he would be, but… “He doesn’t consume the table, even a teensy bit?” “No, silly! Why would he do that?” Meg grimaced. “No reason, forget I mentioned it.” “Okie dokie lokie!” The pink pony pronked away. Twilight looked at Meg and shrugged. Meg sighed. Let’s get this conversation over with. She walked over to the purple blob. “Hey Smooze,” she began. “I’ve got the new voice synthesizer ready to try out. Is this a good time?” She wanted to punch herself. The hardware was in her saddlebag; how was he supposed to answer? “You go right ahead, Smooze!” Pinkie was once more by Meg’s side. “I’ll cover for you,” she added in a stage whisper. What, did he work here now? Later, not relevant. “Is the party room in back free?” “Already reserved it for you!” How… no, don’t think about it. “Let’s go, then.” Meg started walking, without looking back. She could tell Twilight was following, from her hoof steps, and Smooze… either he had stayed put or he was surprisingly quiet when he moved. She couldn’t remember if she had ever heard him “walk” before; it had never occurred to her to pay attention. I’ll assume he’s following. Upon entering the party room, Meg retrieved with her magic the hardware from her saddlebag and placed it on a table. Only then did she look behind her to see who was present. It was both Twilight and Smooze. He really was that quiet. She opened the lid to the notebook computer, unlocked it, plugged in the USB cable to the gadget with Discord’s translator gem in it, and started up the voice synthesizer program. Wait a few seconds for it to initialize… “Okay, Smooze. Say something.” “If this works, will Pinky throw a party?” “Yes!!” came a not-so-distant scream. Pinky pulled her head back into the hallway and closed the door. Meg checked the diagnostic log, not that it served any real purpose. It was working, that much was obvious. She turned around and faced the purple blob. “We need to talk, now that we can. About my trip to the ancient past.” “That is to be expected.” The synthesized voice was flat, emotionless. It was still much better than what Stephen Hawking had at his disposal; technology had considerably improved after all, but was there any way to include emotion? It would need a better translator gem, that’s for sure, one that presented more than printed words. That would have to wait until later, probably much later. “Do you know when I make this trip in time?” “No.” Twilight spoke up. “No, as in you don’t know, or no as in you’re not allowed to say?” Reading Smooze’s facial expressions, to the extent he had them, which wasn’t much, was difficult. “Why wouldn’t I be allowed?” “Because it’d cause a paradox,” Meg answered. “I’m guessing you have little experience with time travel.” “Ah. I see. No, as in I don’t know. However, you were, I believe, noticeably larger than you are now.” There were so many ways to narrow that down. Celestia large? Luna large? Cadance large? But did it matter? The point was, it wouldn’t be for many decades—at a minimum. Obviously she hadn’t provided an approximate date, never mind an exact date, to past Smooze. Maybe that was an implicit message to her present self? Meg sighed and turned to the other alicorn in the room. “Maybe it’d be best to table this for now, Twilight. This trip won’t happen for a long time, certainly not before you figure out how to even travel that far back in time.” Twilight looked unpersuaded. “I don’t know. I’d still like to know, Smooze, why you would follow Meg’s instructions. How could you even talk to each other? I assume nopony spoke Equish back then.” “Nopony did,” he began. “Meg knew the magic needed to directly communicate with me, as does Discord.” “Definitely the not-so-near future me,” Meg interjected. “As for why I’d do what Meg asked, it was because Discord asked me to.” Meg sighed. “And we’re back to Discord again. Wonderful.” “Obviously,” Twilight said to her, “you’ll need to contact him and persuade him to cooperate.” “More likely he’d contact me, since he can sense alicorns. Who knows? Maybe I’d be the first one he ever encountered. I’m guessing I can talk to that Discord with the same magic I’d use to talk to you?” No doubt Smooze would’ve nodded if he could. “Yes.” An unreformed Discord. Great. “Guess I’ll need to talk to Discord about this eventually. No rush, fortunately.” Even so, he had to know that day was coming. Possibly dreading it, knowing how he felt about time loops. Meg eyed the contraption she’d cobbled together. “We really need to make this sleeker some day.” She re-assembled the harness that would let Smooze wear it like a backpack and, once that was done, used her magic to lift it into place. That done, Smooze started to move towards the door. “Wait.” He halted. “You didn’t wipe out all evidence of prior human existence,” Twilight said. “There was one underground burial chamber we found and explored. Why not that one?” “That’s right,” Meg said. His eyes and perpetual smile swung around to face Meg. “You told me not to.” “Of course I did,” she muttered. “To prevent a paradox.” “Were there any others you spared?” Twilight asked. “No,” answered the unavoidably emotionless voice. “Did I give a reason why the others were to be erased?” Meg asked. “No, only that it was necessary.” Meg shook her head. It’s Future Meg’s problem, she rationalized. Regardless, she ought to mention that to Daring Do, in case she was still seeking them out. Twilight had accompanied Meg to the Golden Oak library, the once-unicorn’s old home. It had been a while since she had last visited, something that once would’ve been inconceivable, but now, when she had her own library in her own castle… The old tree library hadn’t changed much. One of Daring’s changelings was there, as expected, masquerading as a pony librarian. The message for the explorer was presented and they departed. The encounter gave Twilight more food for thought. It wasn’t just humans the residents of Ponyville would eventually become familiar with; there was the matter of these changelings. They had been behaving themselves. Was it fair to keep their true natures hidden? Unfortunately, there was one huge difference between humans and changelings: the former had not invaded Canterlot under Queen Chrysalis’ command. She didn’t know how to address that. She still didn’t know, for that matter, how these particular changelings became associated with Daring Do. The two had decided to grab a bite to eat, and were now waiting for their hayburgers and hay fries to arrive. “So how long do you think it’d take them to get all those drones set up?” Meg looked up in thought for a few seconds. “Too long, probably. First they have to get those drones. No idea how long that’d take, maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks, though money-no-object can speed things up. “Then there’s the drone payloads. We have to build a magic caster for each drone, and of course we first have to get the parts for them. We also need to make a magic generator for each one. Then there’s the gem with the spell to be cast. And once they’re all assembled, we need to test them to make sure they’ll work in the field—and let’s not forget programming them all to hover at their assigned positions around the anomaly—and we need to test that too.” “In other words,” Twilight said, “too long.” Their food arrived. Meg nibbled on a hay fry. “I hate to suggest this, but maybe Discord could help speed things up?” Twilight got a good magical hold on her burger and took a bite. She wanted to respond with, “but his magic doesn’t work in your realm,” except it actually would work—when their realm was displaced like before, and of course it would be again when this was attempted. There was still one huge problem, though. “He’d be too occupied displacing your realm into hyperspace to do any other magic.” Meg shook her head. “I was thinking more along the lines of, I dunno, we get one drone with one magic caster and one magic generator all set up, then he… duplicates them? Make as many copies as we need? Can he do that?” Twilight took another bite and mulled it over. “Possibly? Couldn’t hurt to ask. We’d still need to program them all to hover at their assigned locations.” Meg finished off another hay fry. “What about a come-to-life spell? Could that work? They would each have their own magic generator, after all.” “Good question.” There were two potential problems. The first was whether such a spell would even work in their realm, but that was easy enough to test. There was no conservation law it would violate, that she could tell. The second was that these drones already had programmable behavior; in a manner of speaking, they were already “alive”—at least as far as a come-to-life spell was concerned—maybe? Would there be undesirable interactions? Again, that was testable. Twilight smiled. “We need to do some experiments.”