Chapter Fourteen
I'm not Crazy
“No, not ‘gun’, a ‘Portable Shatter Cannon mk. 1.’” It wasn’t the best name but it definitely fit the bill. It looked to be hand forged instead of machine pressed, it made sense though. They didn’t have factories anywhere on the planet that would have the machines necessary to manufacture a gun, especially considering the one I held in my hands was the first and only prototype. “I told you, it needs no magic. Is very good for earth ponies,” She insisted further, a stubborn look on her face.
I looked down from her face and into the funneled barrel, confirming one of my suspicions. She had the gun loaded, but not with any kind of bullet I had ever seen. “Yeah, I know, you said that, it was just a little joke.”
Not even a pity chuckle came from the tech savvy mare. “I did not realize,” She replied before leaning to watch me inspect the firearm. “What are you looking for? Captain Thule would not allow my device on his ship if it was dangerous.”
I gave a breathless chuckle at her admittance. ‘She invents the gun and doesn’t think it’s dangerous. I’m pretty sure they said the same thing about dynamite.’ I waved my thoughts away and took a look at the firing system. She went about as far back as possible with it, flintlock firing arm and a flash pan. “What did you load it with?” I questioned obtusely.
“Flashing powder from cannons on board,” the accented mare explained. “I put ball bearings instead of arrows. They would not fit ” She scuffed the ground with her foot as an embarrassed heat spread across her face. “And I may... have also blown out the first prototype when I did put arrows in it.”
I turned my head back and gave her a quick stare. ‘She invented a shotgun... and put arrows in it. Not exactly the best idea but she’s going to kill herself if she fires a gun with loose powder and a design like this.’ I looked around her desk real quick. Cog noticed my search right away. “What are you looking for?”
“Pen and paper, this thing is primitive beyond belief and loose powder will get you killed.” I thought on the notion for a second and decided against it. “Actually, never mind, I’ll scribble away later. Now, what else do you need?” How I would regret ever asking that, she must have taken some insult from me calling her “Shatter Cannon” primitive. One evil grin, and two hours of lifting scrap metal later, Cog poked me with a hoof.
I turned to her slowly, like a man awaiting execution. “You don’t have another pile hidden away do you? I’m not afraid to complain like a little girl if I have to lift some more.” She laughed, a little too heartily if I was to be asked.
“No, that is all the metal, is almost time for breakfast as well. We can start the-” A slamming noise echoed through the shop and the quiet sound of the door clicking shut. She muttered something in whatever a person could call the equestrian version of russian. “Who is there?” she shouted past me and toward the new occupant.
I heard the soft ‘plop’ of padded feet with a ‘click’ of talons, and I knew who it was before an answer even came. “It’s Cutter, I came by to see if you need some help,” the griffon responded before finally coming into view around a corner. “Oh, hey Rorke, how’s Steam treating you?” he asked with a smile on his beak.
“I got to lift piles of metal and almost dropped a swirly thing. Oh, and guns.” I held up the firearm for him to see.
Cutter gave an overly dramatic gasp. “Steam Cog, you would make this poor creature toil away in your shop of villainy and evil, without so much as a whip to make him go faster? You’re losing your edge.” They shared a laugh as I stayed silent by their side. Inside jokes were never my thing to try and get in on, even if this one was obvious.
When the laughing subsided Steam Cog slowly sauntered over to Cutter, shaking her hips all the way, and ran a hoof through the feathers on top of his head. He visibly tensed under her hoof. “Why would I do that? I have strong griffin assistant here to help me make him go faster.” My silence may as well have made me invisible as Steam Cog went about buttering up the griffin in front of me.
I folded my arms and let my thoughts roam. ‘She’s schmoozing the poor guy up. And here I thought only Rarity did that to her helper.’ The two talked incessantly for a while while I kept myself entertained, walking through the shop itself was interesting but add to that all the doo-dads and bits of simple machinery. I picked up the magic sphere thing from earlier when I heard both of them call for me.
I ran my way through the shop once more and among the things I was expecting to see, a blunderbuss pointing at me wasn’t one of them. “Woah!” I dove back around the corner. “Don’t point a gun at me!” I shouted from my meager point of cover.
A clacking of nails sounded out on the wooden floor a couple seconds before Cutter stood over me. “Come on Rorke,” He urged mildly. “Steam’s cannon couldn’t hurt a fly, we just need to test it on a live target.” The irony of that statement wasn’t truly lost on me, I ignored it thoroughly though.
I looked down and straight into his bird shaped eyes. “That has to be the single dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life. No.” The deadpan seemed to work, his eyes shut themselves partially and his gaze hardened. ‘Skeleton or not, no way am I getting shot for science. He seems hell bent on doing it though.’ My thoughts were proven all too true, Cutter lurched toward me with claws extended and ready for an easy grab. I was just happy I had been anticipating it, or I wouldn’t have reacted in time. Even as it was, I barely managed to slip away from his grasp. I jumped to my feet and sprinted off into the maze of metal and steam, with a stowaway griffin and gun happy engineer nipping at my heels.
I jumped over another set of several desks and under a thick pipe with all my speed intact. Looking backwards didn’t help my cause though. Steam and her feathered minion were right behind me. Only when I looked back and then forward did I realize the corner I was turning would be the one to get me shot. ‘Skeleton or not, this is going to hurt me, I know it.’ Not getting shot was probably my human perspective cutting into things but it still didn’t appeal to me. The thought lasted for all of two second before the report from the gun hit my ears... and all of one second before that when the first shot ripped through my robes, my chain mail, and out the other side. Only a single bullet actually hit bone, but it only took that one to send my world into a spiraling hell of pain.
“AHHH!” I positively SCREECHED in pain. Falling face first onto the wooden floor didn’t even phase me, but my spine felt like magma was flowing through its length. It was the same agony wrought by the Ashbringer, and just as it had then, the pain perforated through my whole body. Cutter and Steam Cog ran to my side as I was screaming with pain unmeasurable coursing its way into and out of my skeletal form.
“Rorke!” I wasn’t sure who screamed my name but both of the gun happy traitors were next to me as I laid on the ground. Their voices fading in and out but still staying legible overall. “No, this should not have happened.” If I had been more coherent and used my mouth for witty rebuttals instead of screaming on the floor and writhing around I probably would have said something akin to ‘Because I remember when chasing people through workshops and shooting them in the back wasn’t supposed to hurt them!’ That never came out though.
I could only think those words to myself as the pair ran away from me. Leaving me to lay on the floor, spasming in pain every second or so. ‘Someone’s been shot... and they leave them on the floor... real geniuses those two.’ My thoughts were pessimistic to say the least, then a pleasant black void seemed to greet me and wipe those thoughts away, just as it had always done. The pain ebbed away gradually as the darkness of impending unconsciousness took hold of my vision.
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Normally I would have been greeted by the dreamscape I had become familiar with, but not this time. I was flung straight into a series of panels that were flashing pictures of anubites fighting. I never entered them though, like panes of glass they shattered as I impacted them with my body. I destroyed several memory panes before my momentum slowed to the point where I could hit one without it shattering. The first one of these didn’t look anything like the others. My vision coalesced into the image I had seen, I was laying down on a bed unlike the anubite one. Vision wasn’t my friend at that moment, it was blurry like I had just woken up. Even though I was just a viewer of that particular memory a pair of hands rose up to rub the vision clearer.
‘No way...’ Once the picture became easier to see I took a long look at the hands before my mental eyes. They were HUMAN hands. A shrill voice broke my contemplation of the appendages. “Johnathan Henry Bromhead, getcha arse out of bed!” The shrill voice was soon identified as belonging to a middle aged woman who had burst into the room. MY room, the woman was MY mother. “John, get out of bed.” She ripped the covers off the bed. “Change ya bloody clothes, and be out the door in five minutes! I’ll be waitin in the lorry.” She walked out of the room just as fast as she had entered.
‘Wow...’ That was all I could think of to say. My name was Johnathan, my mom was a lot bitchier than I remembered, and I was a boxers kind-of-guy. “God she gets british when she’s annoyed.” All the sensations I had experienced reliving Rorke’s life began anew looking at my body again. John, or me, I didn’t know how to label him, griped a little more before finally hopping out of the bed. ‘My name is John...’ The information soaked in as human me got dressed. ‘Johnathan Henry Bromhead. Feels foreign. How does your own name sound alien to you though?’
I was left pondering the notion, trying not to get lost on the subject though my thoughts were quickly drawn in another direction. I had walked into the bathroom and for once I got an actual look at myself once again. If the fact that my mother was as british as could be didn’t tell me I looked like a brit’ too, looking at my face in the mirror sure did.
Hazelnut hair, cut just over the ears, and pasty white skin. Just a dash of barely visible, sun acquired, freckles were visible under my eyes. ‘The Doctor was british too. Was that why he chose me?’ My thoughts lingered that way as I did everything that would be associated with the bathroom. A shower, brushing teeth, and the all important ‘going’ to the bathroom.
“John, let’s go!” Came the screech from my mother. Just as I jumped in the dreamscape, so too did John in the bathroom. He ran back into his room and grabbed a coat and dufflebag from the floor. He rushed out the door and into the car, my, or really his, mom gave him a “Bollocking”. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it involved plenty of shouting and my human self just taking it in stride. Just watching myself was painful, it was like I was dead to the world; sitting emotionless in that car seat proved the point. The scenery around the car started to become more city-like when a large beam of sunlight reflected off a nearby skyscraper right into my eyes.
I reopened them and found myself completely out of place. I was standing in a convenience store, buying all sorts of everyday things. Cereal, milk, and... ‘apparently doritos are a necessity in my human human diet.’ The things I was picking off of the shelf made absolutely no sense at all. ‘Seriously, what possessed me to pick up a pack of Tic-Tacs? Those things are only useful as candy, they just happen to freshen your breath at the same time.’ After another few minutes of picking up random items I finally approached the cashier. Another minute and I was out of the store, bag in hand, and walking down the sidewalk.
The light that seemed to come all too often flashed once more, this time it didn’t even have a source. The sidewalk was gone and I was on the move again, groceries in hand and the same dead-to-the-world look glued to my face. It was raining as I looked out the window of what I could see was a bus. A buzzing seemed to come over the intercom before silencing itself. ‘This is boring beyond belief and I need to know what’s going on. If I wake up from this and my body is being paraded around the ship, I’m going to be pissed.’ The intercom flicked back on for a moment. “Denying... keep... observe...” The voice cut out just after finishing the message. My human self didn’t react at all to it.
Another, more familiar, if slightly distorted, voice came over. “Problem... how... possibility...” It was just about that point when my human counterpart wasn’t reacting that I figured something out. ‘This isn’t part of the memory.’ The voices were coming from an outside source. “Security... ship... not acceptable...” Whoever was saying that didn’t seem pleased at all.
“Preserve... uphold... skeleton...” That almost clinched the matter entirely. ‘The only question now is what will happen when I wake up.’ I seemed to be rather calm but my brain was racing on whether or not I would EVER wake up. Considering they knew I was a skeleton, the odds didn’t look too good. “Save him... it’s on your head... don’t make me regret this...” The voices ceased for a long while and each minute that passed, my nervousness and fear increased. “You better thank me for this...” Immediately it felt like someone had started pulling on my back, and not in any normal way. I took one last cursory glance at my hands as the skin melted away, the bones underneath elongated into claws shortly after.
The pressure on my back increased as the dreamscape started to give way, the memory of myself as a human fading away in front of me. Finally, the pressure seemed to surge as I exited the memory completely. It was centralized in the middle of my spine and I could feel something yanking and ripping on it. The process started to hurt just as the ripping started, two things could have been happening. ‘Either they’re getting the bullet out, or they decided to saw my spine in half lengthwise.’ The binding pain seared through my back, up to my head, and rested there. Like my head was imploding in on itself with nothing to mitigate the unbridled agony. My body started to fall apart in front of me, my bones breaking off at the joints. Bit by bit, my claws gave way to the fingers supporting them, those in turn gave way to the hands that supported those.
All of this seemed to happen slowly, like my very existence was a stain on the universe, and it wanted me to suffer for the simple crime of living my life. The disintegration of my body had progressed up to my shoulders before the pain eased. I vaguely heard another one of the voices sounding off in the darkness. “This would go faster if you stopped thrashing around!” If I was thrashing around as just a disembodied head in the darkness, it was lost on me. My screams were finally cut as the bottom of my jaw came undone. The work continued and I finally accepted the inevitability of it, darkness blacker than the dreamscape surrounding me took hold.
After a few moment or an eternity of limbo a glow pierced the dark. The world around me came into focus once more and this time I wasn’t blinded by light. “Finally!” someone exclaimed close to me. I looked toward the noise and saw a stallion of rather small stature in surgeon scrubs and with a pair of pliers I his hooves. He had my robe undone and the pain from my spine was missing, I noticed something else as well. Nearly my whole body was exposed and my limbs were strapped to a vertical table, spread outward.
“What the FUCK is going on!?” I shouted at the pony.
“Congratulations, you still have a problem, and now it’s awake. I expect you to follow through and be professional about it.” The voice was easily recognizable as Thule’s but something was different, it held a cold air to it, and the authority permeated it thoroughly. “I have to brief Rose Thorn before the ambassador arrives in a couple of hours. If all is well, send him to my office when you’re done.” I could see him glaring at me before leaving. ‘It’s always too much to ask that no one knows about me. Figures...’
The aptly named, Stable, nodded to him before the Captain walked out the door. I strained against the bindings on my limbs to no avail. “Do you mind letting me down? I don’t feel like being some doctor’s science experiment.” My question came out far calmer than I was feeling on the inside. On the inside my metaphorical blood was boiling in a cold way. It made no sense to me and would be hard to explain.
He turned back to me. “I’m sorry, doctor’s orders, you need some bed rest.” He had a smirk on his face that I could see even with his mask on.
I decided to just glare at him, though my lack of eyes diminished the effect. “That’s not funny, now let me down.”
“Maybe now wasn’t the proper time for a joke, I apologize. I’m afraid I still can’t let you down though. Captain Thule wants some tests done, and that you be strapped down until they’re done.” Stable replied. He didn’t seem to be all that put off by the fact that I was a skeleton.
“You’re not going to be probe me are you?” I asked hesitantly.
He laughed genuinely. “No, none of that.” He pulled down his mask, a subdued smile shone through the rather dimly lit room. “Before we begin, would you like me to answer any questions?”
I thought on the notion for a quick moment. “You don’t seem fazed by the fact that you’re talking to a dead body though, mind explaining?”
He walked around the room gathering up tools and stripping off his scrubs. ‘I’ll amend my previous thoughts, he IS a small pony.’ Looking down at him I could see he barely came half way past my knee. A thick blonde mane gave him another couple inches but he didn’t even come up to my waist. It made the ensuing conversation a little awkward. His lavender fur accented it well enough, a royal purple would have suited him better though. “I’m a doctor, Stable Mind by the way, and oddly enough I’ve seen bones before. Some broken in half, others bisected down the middle, and even a few ground into a disgusting paste that nopony should ever have to see. Meeting a creature composed solely of them isn’t exactly terror material for me. Excellent question though, anymore?”
I didn’t even need to think about my next question. “These ‘tests’.” I managed to mime air quotes even with my arms spread far across. “What exactly do they entail? I’m not a fan of skeletal vivisection, just in case you were wondering.”
He gave me a quick glance as he started to sort the tools he had gathered, most of which looked harmless. Most... “The first test is a rather simple question.” He finished his sorting and gave me his full attention. “Do you know how your body works?”
“It’s like a self-charging battery, but with magic.”
He looked at me with confusion. “A... battery?” he said, cocking his head slightly. ‘Oh yeah, gems, not batteries.’
“Actually, skip the battery thing. I’m a self-charging gemstone. Magic is what’s keeping me together and alive as you could guess. Just like a living creature my body seems to make its own magic so I won’t just fall apart.” He pulled out a clipboard and started to write what I said down. “I’ve got another question actually.” He motioned for me to continue. “What’ll happen if I fail a test?”
Stable sighed heavily and placed his clipboard down. “You seem nice enough but, if you fail even a single test I have orders to turn you over in shackles to Captain Thule. After that, I’m unsure of the consequences.” His voice was cold, and distant. He picked up the board again and proceed with a few sets of standard sort-of hospital based questions. A lot of them became pretty redundant with my lack of a more than a few organs and body parts. “Does it burn when you... Okay this is just getting silly, I’ll fill out the rest later. I need something from you now.” The stallion spoke with a little mirth in his voice.
“And the answers I’ve been giving you don’t count?” I asked with limited disbelief.
He did the quintessential doctor sigh. “Of course they count, but I need something from you in the more literal sense.”
“Would I be right to suggest that you’re talking about an actual sample from my body?” I wasn’t particularly fond of having a piece of my body cut away by a race capable of magic. Curses, hexes, and all that brand of evilness. A nod from him confirmed it as he strode to the other side of the room, a second later the light flipped on high and the room was in complete illumination. I looked to him with confusion. “Why were the lights on low to begin with? That doesn’t make much sense.”
He strolled back to my side, a shiny and extremely sharp looking hacksaw in his clutches. “Well you wear those robes all the time, the Captain and I figured your bones may have adverse effects to light. We assumed that dimming the light with your bones totally exposed would be beneficial.”
“That’s all fine, but you aren’t coming within and inch of me with that saw...” My voice low and menacing.
He contemplated for a moment. “What is your pain tolerance? Obviously having that ‘bullet’ in your spinal cord hurt you immensely, but what constitutes pain for you, exactly?”
“Well... It’s sort of a toss-up. If you let me down, I’ll tell you more.” I felt dumb for even saying that. It was a bad proposition to begin with, but surprisingly he looked to be considering it.
“You know that if you were to attack me, several guards would swarm in and apprehend you. Correct?” I nodded. “Very well. Hold still.” He unbuckled my legs first before rearing up and... “I’m a little short, as you can see.” He couldn’t reach the top clasp and looked pretty sad that he needed to use a stepping stool to reach it.
I wasn’t ready for gravity to take effect and ended up falling down for the hundredth time that day. “I really need to learn some balance,” I muttered more to myself than to Stable. Who, of course, was staring dutifully at me with his ‘clipboard of evil™’. “I’m free so here it is. Pain is somewhat of a hit and miss sort of thing. I’ve had my arm lopped off by an overzealous guard, set on fire by a thief, and all manner of minor injuries. I never felt so much as a hint of pain from those, just a tingling feeling that let me know it was happening.”
He flipped through a couple papers and walked over to a cabinet, pulling out what looked like a handheld metal detector security in airports would have. “Barring your recent spinal injury, have you felt pain before?”
I stood up straight and rubbed my wrists purely for the feeling that I could feel my own hands. “Once, when I was stabbed in the face with a sword as wide as a shovel. Right before I woke up too, other than that I can’t really feel pain.” I watched him pace the office, he was thinking pretty heavily. It could be seen just from the way he walked about the room, it was similar to the way Twilight paced before she went crazy. The only exception being that Stable Mind kept true to his name. A few more paces around the room and he found his way back to me with his wand thing.
“I have a theory and it would exclude the process of me having to take a sample of your bone structure. Would you like to try it?” It was a loaded question in actuality. ‘Either cut off my pinkie and give it to him or see what he wants with the wand, hmm.’
“How about you tell me what the process includes and we’ll see.” I replied, not entirely sure what this particular doctor has up his non-existent sleeves.
He held up the device with, for the first time I could see, a wing. He was a pegasus. “This device will allo-”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted as cleanly as I could. “but, you’re a pegasus?”
He ‘oh’d’ in surprise. “Um, yes, I am. You aren’t the first one to be surprised by that actually. Even my special someone didn’t know I was a pegasus until I started flying. As I was saying though, this device should allow me to scan you magic field and natural ley lines. It works significantly better than the casted unicorn variation.” He held the gadget up. “Mh moo urn aroo.” It was my turn to be confused. He rolled his eyes and gave a little twirl of his hoof though.
“Turn around?” He nodded and I turned. The device beeped as he ran it up and down the whole length of my body, flapping his wings lightly to gain the necessary altitude. “You said special someone, are they not a pony?” He murmured around the scanning wand. “I’ll let you finish.” Another murmur and a few beeps as I turned around to face him once more.
He pulled the device from his mouth and placed it on the small cart of tools next to him. “That’s better and no, she’s a pony, head chef aboard the ship actually. She was pretty sad that you’ve been skipping her meals. This,” He gestured at my body. “sort of explains it however. I’ll probably be telling her not to expect you for any meals.”
“You aren’t going to tell her, are you? I don’t feel like having another incident where everyone knows what I am. Last time that happened, I got near unilateral stares of contempt from every guard at the castle. Something about being an abomination against life, the princesses and guard captains seemed to like me better than the actual guards.”
Despite the foreboding aura that hung in the room Stable actually managed a chuckle that turned into a minor laugh. “In all the excitement, we forgot you were sent by Celestia herself.” His laugh died back down. “From the sounds of it, she knew about your ‘condition’. Would that be correct to assume?” I nodded tersely.
“She was the one who sent me here, remember? Going to Saddle Arabia, solving the murders there, stop a race bent on the destruction of the world. Ring any bells?” He looked down but I could see the heat on his muzzle from embarrassment. “Thule and you forgot, didn’t you?” I asked in a rather accusatory tone.
He gave a shallow sigh. “Yes, we did. Had we remembered, you wouldn’t have had to do any of this besides getting that metal removed.”
I let out a much deeper sigh, not entirely sure where the breath came from. “Its reached the point of, I honestly don’t care. What does your magic airport wand say, and what’s next after that?” My voice having lost its’ edge.
“Anyway.” He flipped open a panel on the device and looked at it. “You mentioned having your arm hacked away from your body, being set on fire, and having a sword go through you head. Only the head injury actually caused you pain, correct?”
“Pain seems like an understatement in the scope of things. Think of... a red hot brand. Pressed on the inside of your skull.” The doctor nodded as he processed the description. “Now, think of that pain being spread throughout your body, and centering itself in your spine. It may sound a little melodramatic coming from a skeleton but pain like that is harrowing...” My voice drifted off of its own accord. I had never truly thought of the pain itself. What had caused it or even the ramifications of it. “You know, I wasn’t like this before. I wasn’t a skeleton.” The doctor, of who maintained no relation to “The Doctor” cut me off there.
“I wish to stop you there. Celestia’s verdict stops Thule or I from doing anything to you, but orders from the Captain must still be fulfilled. This information will also enlighten you as well.”
“Captain Shining Armor scanned my body and it told of some basic information. You said this scan would be more in-depth?” I asked. ‘Seems like I’m always relaying info that should already be known. The Princess didn’t even bother sending them a letter explaining my purpose.’
“Excellent, then you already know of the ley lines running through your body and the passive aura you exert?” It still astounded me that he was taking the whole ‘living dead’ thing in stride. I assented and he continued. “You don’t know why the pain occurs though?”
“I assume getting stabbed in the head, or being shot in the spine, helps the process along?” He smirked and it was really the first time I had seen him do so.
“Yes, but not quite for the reasons you think.” He explained, taking flight into the air, prodding the back of my head with a hoof. “On the back of your head, as well as other places on your body, is a seal. They are the focus that keeps you flowing with the correct amount of magic. When that sword went through your skull, it impacted and cut through the seal. I must ask though, was the sword magical in any way?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was called Ashbringer. By all accounts, it should have burned me to a cinder on contact. Hurt to touch it but no actual burns.” He rubbed a hoof down the side of his muzzle.
“That explains it then. If a normal weapon impacts or somehow carves into the seal on its’ face then you will feel that level of pain. Having a sword infused with magic foreign to your body negated the facing effect of the seal and severed it from inside your skull. It seems that the seal on your head is the most crucial though, the others you have are negligible in size and effect. This is truly fascinating as far as a research opportunity goes.”
He picked up a clipboard and started putting down notes. I still had a question that wasn’t explained. “What about the bullet?” He looked up from his notes. “It wasn’t magical, just a spare ball bearing she had in the shop.”
He didn’t even skip a beat before explaining. “The evidence doesn’t theorize a seal may be contained in your spine, but I have my own hypothesis on that matter. You see, being that your spine is the only means to transfer magic to the lower half of your body, I assume it must contain quite a bit of magic inside.”
“Then why didn’t I just heal the wound like I normally do?” I took to pacing around the table I had been strapped to, I really should have been angrier at being tied up, but I just couldn’t find the rage to do so. As I walked, I took a look at Stable and his eyes reeked of questions. “Didn’t I mention that, when you were trying to get me with that saw?”
He thought on it for a moment before lamenting. “No, I don’t think so.”
I waved it off. “Meh, well, my bones heal really fast. They repair pretty quickly, if all the pieces are there and placed back together that is. I haven’t tried re-growing a foot.” My voice was stale from start to finish. The conversation was monotonous and boring. ‘Who knew talking about your own weirdo body could be this dull.’
“Then that would explain why you were in so much pain then, your body was flooding itself with magic in an attempt to heal the wound. With the bullet still in place it couldn’t heal fully, but it also couldn’t stop trying to do so. Your body began to reject its own magic and the seals on your body went into flux. Had the bullet NOT been pulled out, you may well have caused an explosion from the buildup of magic.”
That part definitely got my attention. ‘Note to self, don’t get stuff lodged in spine. Exploding can be hazardous to the average skeleton’s health.’ With that out of the way I started to walk toward the door.
“We aren’t done yet, Rorke. We have one more test to run.”
I groaned as I begrudgingly turned back around. “Seriously, what else is there? I wanted to see Thule, call him names, and maybe get an apology from Steam and Cutter. Is that so much to ask?” My voice full of mild contempt. The long waiting was testing my nerves, I still couldn’t be called angry by any definition of the word but it helped venting the frustration I was feeling.
I glared down at the flighty pony but he stayed ever cool, not even a reaction. “It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to ask, but we have to complete your psychological exam. This may very well be the most important test and don’t worry, every crew member has to undergo one. Mandatory, no exceptions.” I really didn’t like the idea of having to talk about my body and then whats been rolling around inside my head.
In a bit of internal honesty, I hadn’t thought insanely deep, or even as deep as I should have on my situation since coming into possession of my new body. “Fine,” I gruffed. “I’ll talk to the head doctor, he’ll call me a nutcase, toss some meds my way and we’ll be done here.” Stable’s eyes narrowed at me before he cantered over to another one of the cabinets that lined the wall opposite me. I figured he must have been friends with the other doctor. I couldn’t resist another jab though. “I’m pretty sure you don’t keep a psychiatrist next to the leg splints.”
After another moment he turned back to me, with the stereotypical goatee of a therapist hanging on his muzzle by a string. “Actually, I do. I’m trained to handle all medical matters, mental or physical.” The beard looked ridiculous on him, I just couldn’t help but laugh. He even allowed himself a chuckle with me, pulling a couple of chairs over from one side of the room.
After the mirth died down I just had to ask. “Okay, what’s up with the fake goatee?” I was glad I didn’t say what I was really thinking. ‘And here I was, thinking the patients were the crazy ones...’ It wasn’t the harshest thought that had pervaded my mind before, but I didn’t feel like calling my therapist crazy, out loud that is. Something like that couldn’t end in good fashion.
He even took to stroking the imitation facial hair. “According to a study that I have tested personally aboard this ship. Ponies and intelligent creatures in general are more willing to talk to a psychological examiner with facial hair. It makes the doctor more approachable and appear kinder in general when trimmed in the right manner. I am unable to grow any though, so that being the case a beard on a string is my only option.”
That took care of that question. We took our respective seats and he pulled a small, brown notebook out of an unseen pocket. “Taking notes?”
“Of course.” He opened the book up and scribbled something in it. “Now, we’ve talked enough about your body for quite a while. Why don’t you tell me about who you are? Tell me about yourself, and take your time.”
I had never been to a therapist before and regardless of the studies surrounding his beard, I still felt tense and nervous. “I can tell you a lot about myself, but I need an answer from you. Would you like to know about Johnathan Bromhead, Rorke Chardstone the First, or Rorke the Second? Technically I’m all three, and no, it’s not a personality disorder.” I interjected that bit of info quickly as he was scribbling down notes in his book. “I only managed to remember my human name after you pulled the bullet from my spine, so thanks for that.” He nodded slowly and continued scribbling before looking up.
“Can you tell me something about them each? Perhaps the first one?” His tone made it sound almost like he didn’t believe me. In all reality, I just wished I could STOP believing what was happening around me. My whole existence, and everything around me, was sickening with its' disregard for my previous reality.
Time passed us by though, as he asked and I answered various questions. Some were easy, others not so much. It resembled more of a rigorous interview than a mental examination, maybe that was the point though. “You said you’ve been having dreams, of the past Rorke? And you relive points of his life in these dreams, correct?” He enquired, I was happy that our stressful time together was almost at an end.
“Yes,” I answered, “but it doesn’t really feel like a dream. It’s like I’m seeing the whole thing from Rorke’s view, and I’m just sitting over his shoulder.”
He scratched something out. “So a first, and third, pony perspective.” His eyes fluttered frantically randomly. “I’m sorry, but you never told anyone what you are, originally that is.”
My hands were shifting nervously over themselves, the wrappings I had placed on them were still in place. “If you feel like being technical and considering my body’s legacy, I was and still am an anubite. You already heard me explain humans, saying I was born one only makes me sound crazier, although I can’t really help that.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I must say though, this ‘Earth’ sound like quite an exciting place. They have no magic, yet you say these ‘humans’ have made just as many, if not more, advances in technology than we have. This is truly a fascinating prospect.” It was getting exceedingly hard to determine whether he was being sincere, just rolling along with the crazy, or actually thought I was telling the truth of the matter.
‘He’s a therapist,’ I thought bitterly despite myself, ‘he knows just how to string along a patient to get the job done.’ I sighed loudly, my thoughts making me tense. I curtly asked if the session... test, or whatever he felt like calling it, was over. “Yes, Rorke, you may leave in a moment. I wish to schedule another appointment however.” My jaw tensed and a low dog-like growl emanated from my person. “Please don’t think of it that way,” He pleaded lamely.
“Then explain how I should think of it?!” I exclaimed, probably angrier than I should have been. Being called crazy in a world of ponies, coupled with being classified as an abomination against life tends to make someone high strung though. “You obviously think I’m some nutcase or science experiment you can take apart to make yourself look better! Why not just strap me to the table again, huh? You and Thule obviously didn’t think too much if it, that the newest person aboard, despite aloofness, never hurt anyone! Never did anything to anyone!” It was right about the time that I looked down and saw his hoof rubbing along the lower half of my leg. It would have been awkward had I not know it to be a soothing motion.
“Because,” he replied after my rant, his voice ever calm, temperament stable and cool. “It isn’t healthy for anyone to subsist themselves on perceived hatred. Please understand that your body was strange and foreign to us, the Captain was scared for his crew. We... well, that is I, know now that you’re not going to turn into some slavering beast circle-bound on our demise. Would you have done all that different from us, given the circumstances?”
I sighed loudly knowing the answer wouldn’t help me all that much. “No, I probably would have done the same thing, not the medical questions though. That was just... silly.” I dared another look at the newest doctor to intrude upon my life. He was waiting patiently for an answer to a question asked. I huffed another sigh to accompany the first. “Fine, I’ll come back for another appointment. I better not get anymore question about my body functions though, I’m fairly sure I don’t have those anymore.”
“Well actually-” he started before I grabbed his muzzle, effectively closing it tight.
“That was fairly rhetorical. Do I have to bring anything signed by you to Thule before I call him names inappropriate for children?” The doctor snorted in amusement as I released his muzzle. He grabbed a set of papers, the journal he had scribbled in, and piled them together into a manilla folder. He whipped out a stamp, slammed it down on the folder and handed it to me.
“Give that to him and everything should be in order. You’re ready to go, if there are no emergencies feel free to stop by in a couple days, or anytime really. The door is always open; good luck with Thule.” He gave me a warm smile and opened the door for me as I walked out.
I began my walk through the many halls of the ship, seeing easily a few hundred ponies along the way. Many were in what looked like specialized desert armor and a few weren’t. I stopped one in armor after finally breaking through the top layer of the ship and seeing the sun just at the beginning of its’ descent. Apparently the ambassador had arrived and was meeting with the Captain as we spoke, and the troops that would be accompanying us into the desert were surging aboard. A pair of small airships were ferrying unicorns and earth ponies onto the Liberator from the ground below.
I thanked the guardsmare and began walking down the long deck of the ship towards the bridge. Thule was in the middle of his meeting and calling him an asshole then and there probably wouldn’t have garnered me many friends. My steps slowed considerably midway through the walk. As I put more thought into the Captain’s side of things and less of what could be done to me, I started to come around to his way of thinking. Stable had been right. I would have done the same thing. It didn’t make the open betrayal hurt any less though. To be openly disregarded as a threat to people I considered well-versed acquaintances, if not friends, was... well, words seemed meager to describe the feeling.
I truthfully wanted to hate Thule for what he put me through in just a short time but, really? I had been strapped to a table, made to answer stupid questions, and get called crazy. They were all minor in the scope of things that had happened to me up till then. I would still have a fair set of choice words with him, but it wouldn’t be a sword plunged down his throat sideways. As I was walking with my thoughts, another, smaller ship came along side and started releasing its cargo of unicorns and earth ponies. All of them were in the same armor as the mare from earlier and carrying large saddlebags that looked to be nearly bursting.
More than a few of the unicorns were using their magic to lift long crates with weapon stamps on them. Of course I was getting a lot of stares along the way, but truthfully, a moment never existed where ponies didn’t stare at me. ‘Ponies seem to be insatiably curious.’ Whether it was to their detriment or not, I couldn't fathom a guess. Finally making my way to the bridge I could hear more than a single voice inside. Simply on instinct I leaned my head against the door, as if I still had an ear, and listened in. Unfortunately, everything was so garbled by the door and distance that I couldn’t hear a thing clearly. There was but a single thing left for me to do.