//------------------------------// // 40. Power is as Power Does // Story: Imperatives // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// Life went on. While they worked the problem of the first ponies, pre-existing commitments could not be ignored. Meg had just published a biography, one she had been sitting on for many decades, waiting for the centennial anniversary of the death of the book’s subject, Guiding Star. A.k.a A. K. Yearling. A.k.a Daring Do. The book-signing tour’s first stop was at the Tracy, CA, convention center. That center was relatively new, only a few decades old, and built over that giant hole in the ground. Only the passing from living memory of the events that had lead to that hole’s creation made its construction possible. It never did become a proper lake; there just wasn’t enough rain, even with pegasi assistance. A permanent cloud-cover, level with the surrounding ground, hid it from sight and mind and, using Las Pegasus-pioneered magic, was safe to build and walk on by all. The turn-out was disappointing; most attendees were more interested in meeting herself—an alicorn to be worshipped by some of them—than in the book, though they had all dutifully bought one to be autographed. Alas, Daring Do had left living memory as well. Just about. Extremely few were left besides the alicorns and one draconequus. Meg suspected Guiding Star would not have minded, for her obsession with personal privacy was what had forced her promise to wait so long before publishing. The circle of concrete barriers was still in place, though no portal resided within. No surrounding circle of government cars or FBI agents either. Nobody at all; the nearby strip mall was an apocalyptic wasteland. Perfect. Meg leaned against a wall, patiently waiting. She didn’t have to wait long. A familiar SUV carefully made its way into the parking lot, putting its off-road pretensions to the test; none of the abundant debris had yet been cleared away. The vehicle was up to the task. Meg stepped away from the wall and waved a hand. It finally came to a stop next to the circle. The door opened and out stepped Andy. He looked around at the devastation. “At least it’s private,” he noted. “As you wished. Does this have something to do with the postponement of the prisoner interviews?” “Indirectly?” Meg offered. She remembered who she was talking to; wishy-washiness was not going to cut it. “Not a word is to leave this meeting. Forget you currently work for CNN.” He feigned hurt feelings. “You got me out of Tartarus. Twice. I would not betray you.” Ironically enough, if he did then it would have spared her the need to make a decision. The fallout of the coming conversation being made public would ensure that. A part of her wondered if that might turn out to be a blessing; another part pointed out that would’ve been no better than flipping a quantum coin. It was time to put up or shut up. “Senator Routledge has made me an offer, and I don’t know whether to accept it. Your former Tartarus cellmates are involved too.” Andy took a moment to parse that, then erupted in laughter. Then he noticed Meg wasn’t smiling. “You’re serious?” “Do I look like I’m joking?” He wandered over to the nearest concrete barrier, lost in thought, and sat on it. Meg decided to join him. “What kind of offer?” he finally asked. She provided a summary, including the situation with the prisoners. “So, who do I trust, if either of them?” “Wrong question,” he quickly replied. “The correct question is, ‘who do you trust the least?’” Meg sighed. “So neither of them.” Hardly unexpected, but not terribly helpful either. “You must learn to deal with that, if you are to engage the powerful.” Equestrians don’t count? But maybe she had been lucky; she hadn’t had to deal with the likes of Chrysalis. Or maybe both lucky and naïve. She looked at Andy. “Does that include you?” That elicited a smile. “At some points in my life, absolutely. As for my current existence, I’m skeptical. But let’s talk about you.” “Me?” “You have power.” She shook her head. “I may be an alicorn, but—” “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about Routledge making you an offer. He would not do that if he hadn’t perceived your power.” “My power? What power?!” “You have access to powerful people, both human and equine, who listen to you, who can be persuaded by you. You even appear to have Discord’s favor, and I am unaware of any other being as powerful as him.” Meg was about to point out that Discord had been defeated, multiple times, but then remembered that had been with the aid of the Elements of Harmony. Powerful magical artifacts, sure, but not living artifacts. “Still not my power. That’s just leaching off the power of others.” “You broke me out of Tartarus a few years ago.” She hesitantly said, “Still not my power.” She never had explained to him how that had been accomplished, and she wasn’t going to do so now. He studied her. “Who does have that power is an interesting question; but regardless, don’t undersell yourself for ‘leaching off’ it, as you put it. None other had accomplished a breakout, to my knowledge.” That power had come from Discord, in the form of those plaid pills. But those pills’ ability to get someone out of Tartarus was an unintended consequence. He had not been persuaded. But did that really matter? She still had leached off his power. It still proved his point. “Look at it this way,” he continued. “Routledge used you as a means of taking down Serrell, specifically, and in general rallying everyone against Equestria, perfectly content should that destroy you in the process. He failed. Miserably. So now he wants you to join forces with him and offers to make it worth your while to do so.” He pointed a finger straight at her. “That also gives you power.” But what do I do with it? “And let’s not forget you are now an alicorn—let me finish. I’m not talking about your abilities as an alicorn; I’m talking about the reaction of a large number of people here in this world to your becoming an alicorn, how you became an alicorn, how you earned it, and how you were rewarded by a presumed higher power.” “Don’t remind me,” she grumbled. “And it’s not like this ‘higher power’ paid me a personal visit.” “I did say ‘presumed.’ I certainly encountered no evidence for it in my long Equestrian existence. But to your followers, that is all irrelevant. You saved the world, apparently died saving it, and came back ascended. That is all that matters to them.” “I didn’t die. I got yanked out of there at the last possible instant.” Andy shrugged. “Doesn’t really change anything for them. I, on the other hand, would be fascinated to hear the full story.” Meg looked down. “Maybe some day, but not today.” “Fair enough. Could you tell me if Discord was involved in any way?” “Sure, that I could tell you: He wasn’t.” He nodded. “Maybe there really are other entities at least as powerful as him.” “Perhaps.” Like whatever was responsible for the Elements of Harmony. “Regardless, those numerous followers also give you power.” “I’d just as soon they all forgot about me.” Andy stood up. “They will not. It is up to you to decide what to do with it. People like Senator Routledge are keen to find out.” Was that the senator’s game? To ingratiate himself with her followers, instead of being their public enemy number one? Meg stood up and considered the former centaur. “Are you yourself looking to benefit from my alleged power?” He smiled. “I already have. Tartarus, remember?” There was no denial, she couldn’t help but notice. “You’ve given me much to think about. I appreciate that.” “Happy to oblige.” Meg watched as Twilight levitated another entire shelf of books down to the floor. Spike immediately began sorting them according to the new criteria. “Don’t be silly, Meg. We do not have it easy. The magic of friendship does not turn all evil doers into friends. Need I remind you of Chrysalis?” Twilight lifted a stack of sorted books and headed to their new home. “And I’m still not one hundred percent convinced about the former Lord Tirek, either.” “Even so, your track record is enviable.” Twilight came back for another stack. “I wish I knew what the solution is, but… I don’t.” “You and me both.” Spike finished sorting the current batch of books into a collection of new piles and approached Meg. “Have you tried following your cutie mark?” “My cutie mark,” she muttered. She had practically forgotten she possessed one. She looked at her flank, contemplating the two intersecting circles with a star in the common area. Sure, she had theories on what it meant, but unsubstantiated theories they had remained. Twilight stood by her assistant. “Spike has a point,” she said. “It is a mark of your destiny.” “Which is, it would seem, to one day travel back in time to give them what they needed to create that anomaly. Not much of a destiny, if you ask me.” “That’s not fair to yourself and you know it!” “Is it, Twilight? How about going back in time to help create that first anomaly that drained magic from the Crystal Empire.” Flustered, the Princess of Books lifted another stack, but then reversed course and set them down. “Look, cutie marks not tied to a special talent can be hard to decipher, true. I mean, look at Cheerilee. Flowers with happy faces? Doesn’t immediately scream teacher!” If only there was a spell to do the deciphering! But obviously there was no such spell, or Twilight would know it. “I guess I have a lot of soul searching to do. I’ll leave you to your reorganization.” Meg turned around and started walking. “My door is always open,” Twilight called out to her. Before she knew it, Meg found herself in Twilight’s throne room. The thrones were all empty, the cutie marks upon them in plain sight. As she trudged around the circle of thrones, she noted that some of them, as she knew damn well, didn’t make much sense either. Apples for Honesty? Gems for Generosity? Cloud with lightning bolt for Loyalty? Okay, party balloons for Laughter made sense. And the others made sense in other ways, like Rarity’s ability to find gems or Applejack’s talent for growing apples. None of which helped to make sense out of her own cutie mark. She had first thought it was about her desire to be part of both worlds, Earth and Equestria, to be at their intersection. It wasn’t wrong, per se, but it seemed… lacking. Why would the mark of her destiny lead her to becoming an alicorn, for example? One could ask the same of the cutie marks of the other alicorns. The only thing that differentiated herself from them was that they were all princesses and she was not. So either she would one day become a princess after all, or… or what? A princess in everything but name? What would that even mean? And how would it tie in to her cutie mark? A princess ruled, but surely not a non-princess. But even Twilight wasn’t technically ruling anything, despite very much being a princess. Her title, however, gave her clout. She could talk to pretty much anypony she wanted and they would take her seriously. Of course she had the ear of Princess Celestia, but she’d had that ear even when she was merely her student. Yet was Meg herself so different? As Andy had told her, she had power. She had the ear of the president. She had a senator who wanted to work with her—maybe for selfish reasons of his own, but the point still stood. CNN had found her worth interviewing. And don’t forget Andy, who considered himself in her debt, who was doing a decent enough job of turning fame into power for his own purposes. And of course she had the ear of powerful Equestrians. Even her would-be assassins… would Jackson had bothered if she had been a powerless nobody? Meg slowed to a halt and once more studied her cutie mark. What Twilight had said about abstract cutie marks… Unless she had a special talent in set theory or something, hers was unquestionably abstract. Yet being at the intersection of humans and ponies wasn’t really that abstract; it was too specific, it almost could be a special talent—and would her life be such a mess if she truly had that talent? “Maybe I should generalize you?” she said to her cutie mark. Not just the intersection between “humans” and “ponies.” Or being at the intersection of past, present, and future, what with all those damned time loops. What if that circle was Routledge and the other circle was Serrell? She definitely was at the intersection of that conflict! Yes, at the intersection of things. Some things. Good enough for a first approximation. Meg rushed out the door. If she was going to contact Routledge, at least she now knew what to say to him. Twilight retrieved the contents of the next shelf and lowered them to the floor. As Spike proceeded to distribute them to a new set of stacks, Twilight grabbed a high-enough stack from previous sorting and carried it to its new home. It felt good to reorganize her library. It had been too many months since she had last done it, what with everything that had been going on. But with the anomaly finally taken care of, she could afford to indulge herself. “Twilight!” “She’s back there, Meg.” Well, that didn’t take long. Twilight finished introducing the books to their new home before turning around. She didn’t have to wait long before Meg came into view. Twilight gave her an expectant smile, preferring to believe that something good had come out of her “soul searching.” “I need you to set up a meeting with Serrell. The attendees will be myself and Routledge.” Confusion replaced the smile. “That assumes, of course,” Meg continued, “that the senator will agree to it, but I’ll make that a condition of working with me. It’s time to end this little war.” Spike ambled up behind her. “Doesn’t that also assume the president will agree to it?” “I guess? But I’m less worried about him.” Nothing would make Twilight happier than for this “little war” to be ended. “I’ll be attending too. Equestrians are also affected by this.” That seemed to catch Meg off guard. “Sure. Makes sense. Why don’t you first see if Serrell is willing, and only if he is will I contact Routledge.” “Let’s take care of that now.” Twilight started for the library’s entrance. “May I ask what searching your soul turned up?” They were halfway to the hallway before Meg responded. “What Andy told me, mostly.” Andy? “You talked to him?” “Yeah. I wanted his advice on how to deal with Routledge. Figured he was an expert on human politics, originally being a prince and all that, and also that he was relatively unbiased.” “I guess that makes sense?” Spike said. Twilight couldn’t say otherwise, though she wished she could. Could he really be trusted? “So what did he say?” “Basically, that I have power and it’s time I started using it.” “Power? Because you’re an alicorn now?” Meg shook her head. “He meant political power. It’s why Routledge suddenly wants to be my new best friend—that was his observation.” Their hoof steps echoed down the crystalline hallway. Twilight could find no fault with that observation. “I also may have figured out the true meaning of my cutie mark. It’s to be at the intersection of things, or something like that. I’m certainly at the center of the battle between the senator and the president. So if I truly have power, then I should use it to end that battle and hopefully make our worlds a better place for both humans and ponies—not to mention myself.” They arrived at Twilight’s residence within the castle. As they went inside, Meg added, “Don’t forget you have power too. This is not the time to hold back.” Twilight headed for the desk where her laptop waited. “I suspect Celestia and Luna would agree.” President Serrell looked askance across the Resolute Desk at Princess Twilight Sparkle. “You’re serious,” he declared. “I am,” she declared in return. He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, and let out a long exhale. “I’m sure you can appreciate the difficulties with what you are proposing.” Twilight hadn’t expected it to be easy. After all, nothing had stopped those two men from hashing out their differences in private. Maybe they even had tried and failed. At least he was still talking. “Be as that may be,” she replied, “you can appreciate that the current state of affairs is untenable. Something needs to be done to get past it, and this is what we’ve decided on.” Serrell shook his head in disbelief. “Meg is actually willing to talk to Routledge.” “She had acquired a reason to believe it could be… productive.” His eyes locked on to her. “Could you share that reason with me?” It was Twilight’s turn to shake her head. “I’m afraid not.” “Even if knowing would help me agree to this?” “Sorry.” The silence grew uncomfortable. What was he thinking? Clearly he didn’t want to go along with this. Was he worried about the cost of refusing? What did he perceive that cost to be? That Meg would talk to Routledge regardless? Or did he think that was a bluff? “Then I’m sorry too. I cannot agree to this.” Twilight got up and jumped to the floor. “And I’m really sorry to hear that, because until this battle between you and the senator has been favorably resolved, Equestria cannot pursue relations with the United States.” The look on his face was exactly what she had hoped for. “I will, of course, be talking to other countries. In fact, in light of Egor Yusupov’s report on what had happened at that warehouse, I’ll be accepting President Tretyakov of the Russian Federation’s invitation to discuss the establishment of relations. I’ll be on my way now.” She didn’t immediately cast the return spell… Serrell practically leaped out of his chair. “Wait.” “Yes?” “Fine. I’ll do it. But I have a few conditions.” The door that separated the cavern office from the tunnel that led to the outside may have been magically locked, but it wasn’t soundproof. Meg could hear her co-workers and manager giving Senator Routledge the tour. It hadn’t taken much convincing to make this their meeting place. It was easy enough for the senator to justify “finding the truth” about what was going on here—whatever “the truth” would turn out to be politically convenient for him (that remained to be determined)—nor was it hard to justify her absence during this tour. It sounded like things were wrapping up. First, she squeezed her pendant; this conversation was to be human-to-human. She had to crouch to fit in the tunnel, but it wouldn’t be for long. Next she unlocked the door, having finally learned the spell to do that. Then she opened the door and worked her way through inside. Everyone was staring at her, surprised—maybe shocked?—at her appearance. “Hey, everyone. Could you all return through the portal? The senator and I have some talking to do.” Their reaction was to stare at the senator. “Please do as she says.” It was a brief delay before their manager, Jake, said, “Come on, let’s go.” To Routledge he said, “Find me once you’re done here.” “I will.” As the humans were departing the cavern, a Royal Guard approached Meg with a questioning look. “Please wait by the portal and make sure we’re not interrupted or eavesdropped on.” The guard nodded and trotted away. Meg walked over to her workstation and sat down. “You might as well pull over a chair.” Routledge did so, grabbing the closest one. “What about eavesdropping by Equestrians?” he asked after he sat down. “The guards will mind their business,” Meg began. “Any pony who has a habit of coming here has been told to stay away. As for Discord…” Meg looked around in vain. “He is what he is and there’s little that can be done about it, but blabbing to the media—much less human media—is not his style.” She figured that was what he really was concerned about. “I suppose it’ll have to suffice,” he said equitably enough. “Before we get started, let me first say how impressed I am with all this,” he said as he waved his hands around. “There are definite advantages to working with unicorn mages… though that could be viewed as collaborating with the enemy. A view,” he hastily added, “I’m not inclined to support any more.” Considering that giant hole in the ground, I bet. “That would make it difficult to work together with me.” A smile. “Indeed. So let’s talk about that. You were not exactly forthcoming on the phone.” Would you be here if I was? Not if Twilight’s experience with Serrell was any indication. “There is something that needs to happen first, and the odds are you won’t like it.” He seemed only slightly concerned by that. “I’m listening.” “You will need to resolve the differences between yourself and President Serrell. That battle must end. Twilight and I are setting up a quite private meeting for all of us.” It didn’t take him long to answer. He nodded and said, “I accept your terms.” That wasn’t so hard. Almost too easy. Was he merely that desperate? “I’ll contact you soon about possible meeting times.” Meg stood up. “There is much else to talk about,” Routledge said, remaining seated. She threw him a wan smile. “After the war between you and Serrell is over.” He stood up. “May I ask what’s on the other side of the door you came in through? That wasn’t part of the tour.” “That?” She waved a hand at the door in question. “It leads to Celestia’s sunlight, eventually. Just one old unlit mining tunnel after another.” And I look forward to the day I can just teleport here. Not that that would happen in the foreseeable future. He held out his hand. “Until we meet again.” After a brief hesitation, she shook it.