“Clone them!?” Meg shouted.
“Are you serious?” Twilight demanded.
Discord shook his head in disbelief. “Have you forgotten already? The planet you are standing on is a clone of the Earth. Cloning a few hundred humans, even a few thousand, is child’s play in comparison.”
Meg gave the draconequus a pointed look. “Are you volunteering to do the cloning?”
“What about turning them into ponies?” Twilight added.
“Yes,” he first said to Meg, “as a matter of fact I am. No,” he then directed to Twilight, “you must do that. Only the Elements can make them magical creatures.”
“Right,” Meg said in realization, “like how I became magical.”
“But so many at once!”
“And who would agree to being cloned?”
Discord shrugged. “It’s part of the time loop according to Harmony. You’ll figure something out.” And with that he vanished.
A dim and deep red, a monochromatic world. Other colors came only from the portal, and even that was sparse due to the length of tunnel through which Equestrian sunlight had to pass. At least it answered the question of whether the portal would be displaced along with the Earth: it would appear that it did.
Just to be sure, Meg had one of the unicorn guards toss a small rock through the portal. For the sake of science, naturally. And science would record that it was unharmed by its journey. Just to be double sure, she tossed it back; there was no need to pollute the earthly parking lot with Equestrian rocks.
None of that had been captured on video. The camera operator was taking a break, on the assumption that nothing interesting was going to happen around the portal until after the operation completed. A safe assumption in Meg’s opinion, inter-dimensional rock tossing aside.
The ferocious wind blew. Meg looked up at the anomaly. The pegasi were all in place and presumably locked into position by Discord; Twilight wouldn’t have undone the temporal dilation spell otherwise. It wasn’t long before dozens of beams pierced the anomaly. She looked at her phone. The feed periodically switched amongst the multiple cameras set up around the anomaly.
“Meg, will you come with me, please?”
It was a woman in a pantsuit.
“And who might you be?” She had no intention of going anywhere. Special Agent MacAuley took notice of the new arrival, but did nothing more.
“Someone whose boss would like to speak with you.”
Meg returned her attention to her phone. “Then have your boss come here.”
She looked at MacAuley, uneasily. “A private conversion is desired.”
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“This is no game.”
Meg turned to face her annoyer. “Could you at least give me a name?”
“You will recognize the individual in question.”
“Would I?” MacAuley asked.
Silence.
Fine, I’ll call her bluff. Meg stood up. “I’m going through that portal. Tell your boss to meet me there. I’ll be behind the portal, out of sight from this side, nice and private. Don’t worry about those Royal Guards; they’ll keep their distance, and they won’t blab to the media regardless. Better yet, I’ll have one of them cast a sonic barrier spell.” And if it turned out none of those unicorns knew such a spell, well, the “boss” didn’t need to know that. Quite honestly, what with this wind, no one would be able to eavesdrop anyway.
Meg took a few steps towards the portal, then stopped and looked back. “By the way, you are not invited; if you follow me into Equestria, I’ll have the guards detain you.” She resumed her trek to the portal, wondering if the “detain” part would deter the “boss.” No big loss if it did, as far as she was concerned.
Once in Equestria, she headed straight for the guards. “Would any of you happen to know a sonic barrier spell?”
The two unicorns looked at each other then back at Meg. Both shook their heads.
“That’s fine. I’d like one of you to pretend to cast that spell anyway.” She looked back at the portal. The mysterious visitor couldn’t be seen, not that that meant much what with the limited view through the portal this far from it. “I’m expecting someone to come through. I’ll be waiting behind the portal. Depending on how I react, be prepared to either pretend to cast a sonic barrier or detain my visitor.”
“Understood.”
“Also, I know you’ll be able to hear our conversation, but pretend you can’t.”
“Unless and until you need assistance from us.”
“You’ve read my mind.”
Meg turned around and walked back, but instead of going through the portal she went past it. She couldn’t help but notice it cast a long shadow down the tunnel. Well, duh. But what did the back of a portal look like? There wasn’t much light back here, but it still seemed like she could see something.
She cast a light spell, using a finger as a horn and pointing it at the portal’s backside. She saw herself. It was a perfect mirror. She decided not to touch it, though if it reflected light then it should be solid to the touch. But why take the chance?
She took a few steps back. So now what? Not seeing much else to do, she leaned against the tunnel wall and looked at her phone. Might as well see how the anomaly was doing.
No signal.
She looked to the backside of the portal. So much for that. The signal was going in the wrong direction. Some of it ought to be refracting around to her, but apparently not enough. Or was it her phone’s signal not refracting enough to get through the portal?
Either way the result was the same. How long do I wait? To pass the time she started a solitaire app.
Not many minutes as it turned out. She heard the footsteps first, not from sneakers or anything else comfortable but dress shoes. A purposeful confident gait. No doubt the “boss.” I can hear that? Maybe someone could eavesdrop—but not without being seen by the guards. She put away the phone and kept an eye out.
Those possibly expensive shoes stepped onto dirt.
“Meg’s behind the portal,” said a helpful guard. “I’ll set up a sonic barrier.”
A small grunt in acknowledgement. Definitely male.
After a few more steps the boss appeared—unfortunately backlit. Then approaching sounds of the unicorn guard’s hoof steps.
He took a few steps closer. “We appear to be at an impasse.”
The surprisingly agreeable voice left no doubt: Senator Routledge.
How desperate must he be? He willingly came into Equestria to meet her, where she held the advantage. The Royal Guard was right behind him.
“Are you proposing a solution?” she asked.
He looked back at the unicorn. “You may cast your sonic barrier.”
The guard looked to Meg.
“Put up the sonic barrier.”
The guard nodded and his horn lit up, almost painfully bright. Seconds later it faded. “It is done,” he said, then he walked back to rejoin the others.
“The barrier only works in one direction,” Meg explained. Even if the guard had kept his mouth shut—or worse, pretended to speak without making a sound—his hoof steps could still be heard.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word on that.” Routledge sighed. “Not that it makes much difference, I suppose.”
Meg stayed silent. Let the senator get the ball rolling.
“How can we arrive at a place where we can work together?”
Meg’s jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me!”
The senator put a tired palm to his forehead. “Meg, this is how the game is played. If you wish to be a player—”
“That was never my wish. I was forced into this ‘game,’ by the likes of people such as yourself. My life was destroyed, my niece was kidnapped, your henchmen tried to kill me! How could I possibly—” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too unreal.
He sighed. “I would think, by now, you would have stopped taking everything you hear from ‘your side’ at face value.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did Serrell or his people ever lie about?
“Tell me what it would take,” he merely said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I’m listening.”
She still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. A glance found the guards where they should be, one of them looking in her direction. Their presence was comforting, even if—as she had to concede—she was in no danger. Unless, unable to take her out physically, he was trying to drive her insane.
“The impossible. Let’s start with getting my old human life back.”
A smile emerged. “It’d be hard for us to work together if you didn’t.”
“Don’t insult me. You called me a traitor. How do you take that back?”
Routledge sighed. “Easily. I was misinformed. New information has come to light. Certain people had deceived me.” He pointed at the backside of the portal. “Easier still, if that anomaly goes away. You can become a hero.”
Certain people… It clicked. “And what do you want in return?”
A chuckle. “You’re learning. Needless to say, we cannot work together if I am… sidelined. Those aforementioned individuals are about to be interviewed by CNN, after allegedly trying to kill you on live TV.”
“Allegedly?!”
“We have only your speculation that those three had arrived wielding real guns and not the prop guns we all saw.”
Meg glowered. “If they had arrived with prop guns, Discord would not have wasted his time with them.”
“Your faith in him is touching, but many do not share it.”
“Then what are you worried about? Sounds like there’s a good chance they’ll be set free.” No need to mention she wasn’t pressing charges anyway—if they threw their boss under the bus.
“Considering that you won’t be pressing charges, I should think so.” He grinned as her reaction. “Twilight mentioned that to Serrell, Serrell mentioned it to a few others, and, well, I am a well-connected person.”
Meg had the distinct impression she was attempting to play checkers against a chess master. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is what my ‘former henchmen,’ as you put it, intend to say. They place greater value in getting out of Equestria than in being truthful. What I am saying is, I’m onboard with them serving time for attempted murder in an Equestrian prison, unable to grant interviews.”
“I thought you just said—”
“I said many do not share it, but I could when it serves my interests to do so.”
But that would only buy him some time! Did he know what those three were claiming? He’s certainly implying that. What about those records from the warehouse that directly implicate him? Should she mention that? The interviews were already scheduled; cancelling them wouldn’t look good. Even if he could deliver on his end of the deal, could she trust him? Not that she had any love for Jackson and the others, but that wasn’t the point. How could she make a deal with the devil?
“What happens if I say ‘no deal.’”
He gave a tired sigh. “Perhaps ponies weren’t the existential threat to us after all, but even you cannot deny other threats exist. That Everfree Forest is full of them. Tirek and Discord were threats in the past, if not in the present. Chrysalis is still out there, right? Can you say that others we haven’t heard of—yet—do not exist?
“I’m trying to protect our world from those threats. Maybe I haven’t gone about it in the best way—okay, mistakes were made, but mistakes can be corrected. Furthermore, consider this: once we are positioned to defend ourselves against those threats, we could help Equestria defend against them too.”
Mistakes were made. So easy a brushoff of the anomaly and the hell she and her relatives had been put through. The town of Tracy may never recover from this devastation. How all that could be “corrected” was far from obvious.
He was sure talking a good game, but why now? Obviously because of the upcoming interviews. It reeked of desperation—though he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.
“Do you know, specifically, what your henchmen are going to say about you?”
“None of them have been in my employ for years, just so you know. But let me ask a different question: Do you believe what they plan to say is the truth?”
“What I believe doesn’t matter. The records from the warehouse will back them up.”
That elicited a smile. “Remember when you were asked ‘who should be losing sleep?’ and you answered ‘not me?’ I’m not losing sleep either.”
He had a damn good poker face, she had to give him credit for that. “You didn’t answer what would happen if I say ’no deal.’”
“I should think mutually assured destruction, or close enough.” He pulled a card out of his jacket and presented it. “Think it over, but do not take too long.”
Meg took it. A business card, with a phone number handwritten on the back.
“I look forward to hearing from you.”
He turned around and left.
Dozens of beams linked the Royal Guards to the shrinking anomaly. The simulations had said it would work, Twilight knew, but she also knew simulations weren’t always correct. She looked to the straining draconequus by her side on the rooftop. “Think you can last long enough?”
“Let’s… just say it’s looking promising.”
It would have to be good enough. Her attention returned to the anomaly, already half its original size. There was, as it had turned out, one thing they had overlooked. As the anomaly shrank, it descended, always remaining in contact with the ground. The top of it no longer extended above the gigantic pit it had carved out. The guards were adjusting their aim, well enough, to compensate.
With the reduction in size came an outsized reduction in wind. Astoundingly that came with a downside: A media drone was hovering nearby, watching them. Not really unexpected, of course.
What was unexpected was the pegasus flying toward her. That bucking dim red light made it hard to tell who it was. It couldn’t have been one of the guards, if only because Discord had locked them all in place. Her eyes tracked the mysterious visitor.
Soon enough it became clear: not a pegasus but an alicorn. It was Meg who came in for a landing, warily eyeing the drone as she did so. She made a point of facing away from it before she spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the diminished wind. “I know this is a bad time, but something big just happened. It can wait until we’re done here before discussing it, but you should know Routledge just paid me a visit, and… I don’t know what to think. But maybe we need to delay the interview with the prisoners.”
Huh? Twilight eyed the drone herself. This was not a conversation they could have right now, not without using privacy spells, and that would raise too many questions. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
“Just giving you a heads-up. I’ll head on back to the portal.”
But she walked over to Discord. “How are you holding up?”
“Better when I had only one nanny,” he grunted out.
Meg rolled her eyes. “Sorry I asked,” she said, then flew off.
Nothing had changed at the portal, just MacAuley sitting in a folding chair staring at his phone. Meg came in for a landing in front of the portal, not sure what to do.
The FBI agent took notice of her arrival, looking slightly confused. “Don’t you have to go there to return to being human?”
She had gone equine before returning through the portal so she could fly to Twilight. Theoretically she could transform on this side of the portal, what with the Earth being displaced. That was the whole point of displacement, after all, to give magic full reign.
Instead for answering him with words, she gave her pendant a magic squeeze.
He grunted. “Guess not.”
She began walking to her own chair. “Not while we’re displaced, no.” And the magic it took hadn’t exhausted the plaid pill she had originally used to arrive on Earth.
“So who was the mysterious person you talked to?”
There was something off about how he’d asked that. “You don’t know?”
“He did hide his face.”
“Then… I guess I shouldn’t tell you.” Not before I decide what to do.
He gave her a considered look. “You didn’t have the guards over there detain him, so I guess that counts as permission to use the portal.”
“Yeah, that’s fair to say. If it makes you feel better, I just talked to Twilight about it.”
His attention returned to his phone. “Sure, let’s go with that. It’s above my pay grade for me to know that was Senator Routledge.”
Not above mine, unfortunately. And I don’t even have a pay grade. Meg got out her own phone, so she could resume watching CNN’s streaming video, but before she could resume it… “Is it my imagination… or has the wind reversed direction?”
“This is bad,” Twilight mumbled. “Really bad.”
The wind had more than diminished; it had reversed. The anomaly was expelling air, and at an alarmingly increasing rate. In hindsight it was so bucking obvious, but the simulations hadn’t been designed to consider the disposition of the anomaly’s contents. The interior volume of the anomaly had decreased—no, it couldn’t be that simple. By the time the average density of air inside the anomaly exceeded the density outside… Or maybe the rate of shrinkage is inversely proportional to…?
Whatever. Too late to correct the simulation, that’s for sure! But it didn’t matter, not really. The goal was to shrink the anomaly down to nothing, and it was now clear that everything it had “consumed” in the past two weeks was about to be regurgitated in mere minutes. With dozens of pegasi in the way and unable to move!
“Discord…”
“I know, and there’s not much I can do about it.”
“Can you release the guards once the wind gets too strong, to let them fly away?”
“Yes,” he squeezed out, “after I stop maintaining the displacement.”
The wind continued getting stronger. “That anchoring spell would fail anyway,” she noted, “once the displacement ends—though that would hold them in place for precious extra seconds.” Regardless, that meant the anomaly would still be around, if much smaller. She’d have to reapply the time dilation spell again, obviously. And then they’d have to come up with a different solution, one that took this complication into account.
“Hey guys.”
Meg had returned, and she was refolding her wings. Twilight shared her thoughts on the situation.
“Wait a minute.” Meg turned to the straining draconequus. “Once you stop maintaining the displacement, how long can you remain here?”
“Fifteen seconds, twenty tops.”
Twilight was catching on. “And during that time, is there anything you can do about the anomaly itself?”
“That… depends. On how small it gets—and how exhausted I get.”
That didn’t leave many options. “Then let’s keep shrinking it for as long as possible.” She eyed the closest pegasi. Too far away. “When you see me flying back here, release all the guards.”
“And stop the displacement, yada yada yada.” Discord grimaced. “The sooner, the better.”
Twilight launched into the air. She almost wished Rainbow Dash was here; quite honestly, she would be better suited for this task. The wind wasn’t too bad now—here—but that was going to change—and soon.
The media drone had gone away, Meg noticed, unable to handle the high winds. Perhaps the only silver lining to the situation. She could barely make out Twilight hanging around one of the pegasi.
A door slammed into a wall.
Meg turned around and spotted a news crew. She sighed. No, of course that drone would be replaced by something that could handle the winds. And if they could report live from a hurricane, this minor-in-comparison wind was not going to stop them. For now, minor in comparison, she reminded herself.
She needed to keep them away from Discord.
Meg walked over to them as they came towards her, meeting them halfway. Being a quadruped lower to the ground definitely had its advantages in high winds. The humans took advantage of her “little pony” stature by themselves getting onto their knees. One of them handed a microphone to her, and she took it in her magic.
“I’m sure you’re wondering about the wind,” she began, “so let’s start with that.” She got a nod in response. “It’s quite simple, really. As the anomaly shrinks, all the air it sucked in no longer fits, so it’s all coming back out.” Twilight had explained how that might not be strictly true, but it was true enough for television.
“How bad will it get?”
Meg stole a quick glance at the guards. “Bad enough we might be forced to abort. It depends on how much those Royal Guards can tolerate. But we’re looking at contingency plans.”
“Such as?”
“I’d… rather not say. There are too many unknowns at this time. Worst case scenario, we’ll have to try again later.”
“And that’d require a third displacement?”
“Afraid so. But you can see the anomaly is a lot smaller. It will be eliminated eventually.”
“Do you have any comment on the speculation around what may or may not have been an attempt on your life?”
Seriously?! “I have more important things on my mind right now.”
She started to turn away, the microphone in her magical grasp drifting back to its owner.
“Wait!”
Meg looked back. She didn’t bother to shout over the wind, but she aimed an ear at them.
“Would Discord be up to a brief interview?!”
“He’s busy!”
And with that, Meg walked back to the draconequus.
The wind had reached hurricane strength. Twilight was only able to stay in place by using an anchoring spell. Another spell shielded her from the wind’s brutal force. The guards, on the other hoof… Discord had taken care of the anchoring, but they all had to endure the brunt of the wind. That’s what concerned her; she could theoretically shield the one next to her, but not all of them.
“How much more of this can you take?!”
“We are trained for adverse weather!”
“This will get far worse!”
As if on cue, they got blasted with fine dust. Only briefly, but Twilight realized that would only get worse too. “The anomaly consumed a lot of ground and buildings as well.”
“What?!”
“Expect more dirt!”
She got a nod in response. “Let me try something!” the guard said.
Twilight wondered what that something could possibly be. The guard’s wings flared out and flapped against the wind. There was no movement, naturally, as Discord’s anchoring did not permit it, but… could it be that simple? The wind was weakening.
Duh! Pegasus weather magic. Part of the adverse weather training. The effect was local, but local was sufficient. Soon the wind was weak enough that shouting was no longer necessary. “Excellent! We’ll see how much time that buys us.” Many will figure it out for themselves, but she couldn’t rely on everypony figuring it out. “I’ll go tell the others.”
It’d be best to do so much closer to the anomaly, then use the most powerful Canterlot Royal Voice she had ever attempted. Then teleport and repeat, until all got the message.
Twilight braced herself for wind like no pony had ever experienced before.
She teleported.