//------------------------------// // Across the Rainbow Bridge // Story: The View Over Atlantis // by Zobeid //------------------------------// Teeth clenched on the handle, Autumn Flare dipped her brush in the paint bucket, then drew it out carefully, trailing the bristles across the lip of the can so that excess paint would go back into it rather than drip. She turned her head and stretched her neck and painted a wet stripe of pale lavender onto a wooden beam. Deftly. As she colored the trim, another paintbrush was filling white paint into a large panel above. The brush floated in a violet aura of magic, matched by the glow emanating from Trixie Lulamoon’s horn. “Almost done!” Trixie noted. Then she added, “You really didn’t have to help me with this.” Autumn was silent as she finished painting the wooden trim, dropped the brush back into the paint bucket and said, “Of course not, but I wanted to.” She stood up on all four legs and stretched them, and her wings as well, then stepped back and looked over the freshly-painted caravan, or enclosed wagon. “It’s looking good. You’ll be ready to leave soon, won’t you?” Trixie nodded. “It’s getting about that time of year. Laying about with my friends here in Hoofington doesn’t pay the bills. As soon as winter is wrapped up, I’ll be ready to begin my tour. Err… With a farewell show for the town, as always.” Autumn giggled softly and said, “Laying about with your friends? You barely found any time for that. We’ll miss you the rest of the year.” It was too true, Trixie silently reflected. The off-season wasn’t as rigorous as touring, but it wasn’t three months of slacking and getting fat either. There was practicing magic and studying new spells, developing material for the act, mending and restocking her caravan, and of course reconnecting with her hometown friends. To Autumn she said, “I’ll miss you too. But my life is what it is. Maybe I’ll settle down someday, somewhere, but I’m not old and creaky yet. The Great and Powerful Trixie was born for adventure.” Autumn nodded. “Everypony looks forward to when you come back, full of stories about all the adventures you had on the road. Have you planned out where you’re going this year?” Trixie opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped. She looked around — theatrically, as if making sure no one else was within earshot — and moved closer to Autumn before saying, “Don’t tell anypony, but I’ve decided to take my show across the barrier, into the human world, this year.” Autumn gawped, and her wings flared out for a moment. “What? Are you serious?” Trixie nodded. “I’ve been thinking it over. Last season I started seeing more newfoals in the audience, and they’re wild about my act. I’m sure I’ll be a hit with the humans too.” Autumn drew her wings back against her flanks, but her brow furrowed as she said, “Trixie, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Everything I’ve heard about the human world is bad. It’s full of pollution and guns and robots and terrorists and… and… humans! It’s a dying world.” Trixie nodded. “A dying world. Quite so, and how could I forgive myself if I didn’t see its wonders first-hoof before it’s gone? Haven’t you ever wanted to see a human in the flesh, not just a photograph?” Autumn shook her head. “No. No I don’t. A picture in the newspaper is as close as I want to get to them. They’re horrid creatures. They’ve almost destroyed their own world.” “I’m sure you exaggerate the hazards, dear. The newfoals I’ve met have been rather nice. Besides that, I can’t resist a challenge. I’ve heard it said that if you can make it in New York City, you can make it anywhere. And since New York won’t be there for much longer, this is my only chance to find out.” Autumn’s ears drooped for a moment, then she moved over to Trixie, sat back on her haunches and gave the unicorn a hug with her front legs. Trixie’s eyes widened with surprise at the unexpected embrace, but then she returned it. Autumn said softly, “I guess you’ve made up your mind, but please be careful and come back to us in one piece. Okay?” Trixie nodded and said, “Don’t worry, the Great and Powerful Trixie is not so easily vanquished. And just imagine the tales I’ll return with!” The two ponies released one another. Still a little embarrassed — for she was not a touchy-feely sort of pony, by natural inclination — Trixie glanced down and said, “Come on now, let’s get these paintbrushes clean before they dry out!” NATIVE EQUESTRIANS AWAKE! Your Country Is In Peril Our beloved Princess Celestia, in her infinite mercy, has offered ponyfication to the Humans of Earth. Although Her Majesty’s desire to save these wretched creatures from the culmination of their own folly is both Noble and Admirable, her sympathy toward them may yet lead our nation to Rack and Ruin. DID YOU KNOW that there are more than eight billion humans on Earth? They outnumber the population of Equestria by more than a hundred-to-one! If any significant fraction of humans become ponyfied, then native Equestrians will be reduced to a tiny minority of ponies lost in an ocean of newfoals! DID YOU KNOW that the human population is almost evenly split between males and females? Can you imagine how this radical influx of stallions will disrupt our institutions and long-held matriarchal traditions? WHAT WILL THIS DO to our culture, when almost all ponies have grown up watching “Star Wars”, and eating “ham burgers” AND “hot dogs”, and listening to disturbing “rock music”, AND playing violent “video games”? Our Princess Celestia (Glory to her Name!) has told us that the ponyfication process makes newfoals Docile and Loyal — but can we really be sure this change will be effective on all of them? Can we be sure it won’t wear off? What about their foals — will they grow up as normal ponies, or revert to Human modes of Thought and Behavior? WHAT WILL HAPPEN to our traditions when the vast majority of ponies wish to celebrate strange holidays such as “Christmas” or “Halloween” instead of Hearth Warming Day and Nightmare Night? What will become of our culture when most ponies have read “Mark Twain” or “Shake Spear” but know nothing of the classic tales of Pen Stroke and Wanderer D? DID YOU KNOW that the humans have hundreds of different languages? Despite the similarity of the “English” and Equestrian language, countless millions of newfoals will be virtually unable to communicate in our land and amongst our people. DID YOU KNOW that the humans have dozens of different “religions”, and that many of them believe in Strange Superstitions and pay homage (which they call “worship”) to fictional beings they call Gods? In the name of their Religions they have fought wars and committed Unspeakable Acts throughout their long and bloody history. Can we truly expect them to abandon these beliefs now and pledge their fealty to our Princesses? The human world is vast, their civilization (if it can be called such) spanning many thousands of miles and six Continents separated by Vast Oceans. Even with their “telecommunications” and “jet travel” they have found it impossible to maintain order across such a Vast and Diverse expanse of territories. Can ponies, lacking such Technology, ever hope to govern such a world? Even our Princesses have nothing in their thousands of years of experience to prepare them for such a task. WE BELIEVE that the human world, with its vast distances, vast population, foreign cultures, and disparate languages and beliefs, is inherently unmanageable — and will still be unmanageable even after that population is Converted to ponies. WE BELIEVE furthermore that allowing Teeming Masses of Newfoals to flood into Equestria Proper will doom our Culture and our Society to chaos and inevitable collapse, despite the best intentions of our Princesses. WE BESEECH Her Majesty, Princess Celestia, to bar entry of Newfoals into Equestria Proper, so that our Way of Life may remain intact. As the advancing Barrier strips away the Pollutions and Poisons of mankind from the Earth, there should be plenty of land there for the Newfoals to reside upon. They do not have to come here! CONTRARY TO RUMORS, our Organization is not affiliated with the so-called “Human Liberation Front”, nor do we advocate withholding the blessings of Ponyfication from Humans. We do not and will not use violence to advance our views, but will instead continue to Advocate Vigorously for their implementation. We are the PURE PONY LEAGUE. Join us, Native Equestrian Ponies, and help preserve our Nation’s Future! — Scritti Politti of the PPL Another burst of fireworks exploded around the stage of Trixie’s caravan, as she struck a final dramatic pose, rearing up on her hind legs and throwing her arms wide. Then she dropped to all fours and bowed, using her magic to doff her wizard hat and sweep it before her in the manner of a curtain call. The audience whistled and applauded loudly, with some ponies stamping the ground using their front hooves in the traditional manner, although many of the newfoals sat upright and tried clapping their hooves together like human hands. There were a few humans in the audience too, clapping appreciatively. Trixie put her hat on and said loudly as the applause subsided, “Don’t forget the tip jars in front of the stage! The Great and Powerful Trixie thanks you all!” Then the curtain drew closed, and Trixie trotted backstage to the interior of her caravan. Trixie would clean up the stage and collect her tips shortly. For the moment she hung up her hat and cap, then flopped onto her cot and closed her eyes for a moment. A gentle smile graced her muzzle as she listened to the murmur of the crowd dispersing outside and breathed in the familiar scent of the fireworks smoke still lingering in the air. Coming through the barrier had been the best career move she’d ever made. Newfoals adored unicorn magic, hungered for it. Even the unicorns among them lacked the knowledge and years of practice needed to perform magical feats that Trixie tossed off so easily. For most of them magic began and ended with simple levitation, a mere substitute for the hands they’d given up. And of course, the dwindling human population were just as entranced by Trixie’s performance, if not more so. Most humans seemed stingy with their tips, though. Newfoals, by comparison, were almost absurdly generous. Trixie had considered staying on the Equestrian side of the ever-expanding bubble. She knew it would have been safer. The human side of the barrier was dingy, smelly, and still sprinkled with ugly and unpredictable humans, notorious for their antisocial tendencies. However, the newer the newfoals, the more gullible and generous with their bits they tended to be. Beyond that, the history of humankind was full of both horrors and wonders, and there would never be another chance for Trixie to glimpse either. After resting briefly, Trixie went to collect her donations from the tip jars at the front of the stage. She gave one a shake and smiled at the jangling of coins inside. The value of Equestrian bits had gone through some dramatic swings over the last couple of years, as the bureaucracy and the royal mint had struggled to match the supply of currency with a rapidly expanding population and borders. Now the latest bout of deflation had eased, and ponies were letting go of their bits more freely than they had only a few weeks earlier. Trixie was just starting to take her earnings inside when she was waylaid by a human. “Excuse me, may I speak with you?” he asked with an unfamiliar accent. Trixie turned to look at the man. He was shorter than most human males, though of course he still towered over Trixie. His skin was brown, and he had a neat black mustache, and wore a dark business suit, and carried a slim attache case. Trixie vaguely recalled seeing him lurking in the audience, at the back of the crowd. She looked up at him dubiously and asked, “Do you have business with the Great and Powerful Trixie?” He knelt, bringing his face closer to her level, and gave a little bow. “If it pleases you, miss. I am Abdel Youssef. I would like to inquire as to hiring you for a private engagement.” “Abdel Youssef…” Trixie repeated, hoping she’d be able to remember. She had an awful time with human names, as they typically didn’t mean anything at all. “Trixie would invite you into her caravan, but she is afraid it would be rather cramped for somepony… err, I mean, someone of your stature. I mean size.” She merfed inwardly at her momentary awkwardness. She was not used to talking to humans. Abdel didn’t seem to notice. “There is a cafe nearby,” he said. “Perhaps we could discuss business over refreshments?” Soon they were seated at a table partaking of chai tea and scones, which Trixie found quite pleasing — particularly when she wasn’t paying. Although not as good as Equestrian fare, they at least seemed to be natural food, not synthesized. Trixie felt she should get down to business, though, and she said, “So, umm… Tell Trixie about this private engagement?” He responded, “My employer is fascinated by unicorn magic and wishes a demonstration, as well as the opportunity to interview such a talented and knowledgeable individual as yourself. There may also be the possibility of a permanent position in his employ, if you are so inclined.” Trixie frowned at him. “What kind of permanent position? And who is this employer you speak of?” Abdel cleared his throat and said, “I hope I can rely upon your discretion in this matter. My employer is a high ranking officer of The Golden Dawn. Our organization avoids publicity, and I would prefer not to reveal more details at this time. However, we will provide transportation to and from England, as well as lodgings and expenses for the duration of your stay.” Trixie blinked. She’d only heard the most vague rumors of The Golden Dawn. She’d thought they were either a religious cult or a terrorist organization, or possibly some combination of the two — not that she fully understood either concept. And England? Trixie’s knowledge of earthly geography was fuzzy. She asked, “England? How far away is that?” “It is overseas, a large island just off the continent of Europe. It is a trip of several thousand miles.” Trixie scowled. “Several thousand? That is no small journey! Will you also compensate Trixie for her time?” Rather than answer directly, the man drew a small pouch from his attache case and set it on the table before Trixie. It jingled. Trixie scowled at the bag. “A mere bag of bits means nothing. I earn more than that from a single performance.” Abdel then reached to the bag, loosened the drawstring, and spilled its contents on the tabletop. Trixie gasped at the glitter of gold coins instead of common brass bits. She levitated one, bringing it closer to her eyes. The front of the coin bore the profile of a human female wearing a crown. Surrounding her were the words: ELIZABETH - II - DEI - GRATIA - REGINA - F : D : Turning over the coin revealed an image of a man on horseback. The man wore a cape, not unlike Trixie’s own, and a feathered helmet like those of Celestia’s guards. In his hand he clutched a sword, and his horse was rearing and trampling upon what appeared to be a small dragon, a wyvern perhaps. Trixie pondered. Gold coins were one of the few forms of human money that still had much value. Paper currency of the old nation-states meant nothing. Gem stones were relatively common in Equestria and could easily be synthesized on Earth. Nanomachines could replicate almost any object, but they couldn’t transmute other elements into silver or gold. Many humans now traded a form of money they, rather confusingly, called “bit coin”, but it was neither an Equestrian Bit nor a coin, and it seemed to have no real existence outside of their confounding computers. Trixie squinted suspiciously at the gold coin and cast a quick authenticity spell. The coin emitted a light ringing sound, indicating it was genuine. Trixie estimated the contents of the coin pouch were easily more than she could earn in six months of street performance. She magically swept the coins back into the pouch and stashed the pouch inside her hat. To Abdel she said, “Trixie must arrange for the storage of her caravan, but thereafter shall be at your service!” <<<<>>>>