//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Intelligence // by Carolus_The_Great //------------------------------// Streaks of moonlight shone in through the small but high windows of the room, cutting though the darkness and partly illuminating the large assortment of objects spread all over floor and mounted on the walls. Various metal contraptions in multiple states of repair, glass bottles and stacks of paper all sat, slowly collecting layer upon layer of dust. A large desk, buried under a swathe of scruffily written notes and old, badly beaten books, sat overlooking a large, empty space in the centre of the room. Dust did not settle here. The worn wood was clearly visible across the well-trodden floor, and glint of polished metal made a contrast to the decaying abyss that surrounded it. The creek of a floorboard and the stirring of the dust in the moonbeams announced the presence of somepony. The figure wafted silently through the space, coming to a rest at the desk. A crack, accompanied with a flash of brilliant light brightened the room for an instant; illuminating posters, newspaper cuttings and scribbled notes adorning the walls. The darkness returned, although the light of a single candle bathed the desk in a warm glow, revealing the silhouette of the figure. The horn and long snout of a unicorn stallion looked down at the mess of paper before him. He began to rifle through the notes; seemingly intent on finding one in particular. After a few minutes of searching, his jet black eyes gleaming with excitement, he found what he was looking for. Smoothing out the wrinkles, he read the hoofdrawn page before him. A diagram of pony, drawn within a five pointed star, was surrounded by annotations in various archaic languages. You don’t find this stuff in libraries anymore, he thought, walking to the clearing in the centre of the room. Setting the page on a small metal table, he prepared the rest of the equipment he needed. With another crack and a flash, a second, shrouded metal table rolled towards him, coming to a halt next to the first. He trotted around the room collecting books, several unlabelled flasks of liquid and a few small, metal gizmos. Goodness, I've been waiting a long time for this! The stallion was visibly out of breath, despite only having made one circuit of the room. But not for much longer! His anticipation was almost palpable as he made his way to large door at the very back of the chamber. With a third crack and a flash, the lock opened with a ‘clunk!’ Pulling the door open, the candlelight revealed the interior. The cupboard was small; scraps of metal littered the floor, with wires and hoses hanging from large hooks on the walls. However, it was clear that the stallion was more interested with what was laying in the very centre. Atop a metal trolley, lay a lumpy mass covered by a crude patchwork quilt. Wheeling the trolley out from cupboard and into the main room, he noted that the quilt was gently rising and falling. Good, at least I haven’t lost my subject. Whipping the quilt from the trolley, he gazed upon his next ‘subject’ - a pony that had been tied down to the shiny top. A pegasus mare with a pale fuchsia body and mint green mane. She was in a deep sleep; a thread of saliva hung down from her half open mouth. Although her face was relaxed, clearly devoid of any pain, the hard metal surface of the trolley and the positioning of the straps contorted her into an awkward position. “I think it’s time to get started!” He exclaimed. Positioning the trolley in the very centre of the room, he reached up, pulling a large operating theatre light out of the gloom above their heads, “Wakey Wakey!” Finding the switch, the light exploded into life. But rather that illuminate the room, it focused its intensity upon the catatonic pony on the trolley. With a moan and a grunt, the mare groggily returned to consciousness, but when she didn’t recognise the place she had woken up in, she started to breathe more shallowly. Taking in the room around her: the paper notes, the contraptions, and the smell. The bitter smell of iron stung her nostrils. Although it was most likely the rusted metal that lay in heaps around her, it could just have easily of been blood. That was too much for her. She tried to stand up, to get away from this awful place, but found herself tied down. “What?” she tugged at her restraints, “What is this?” “I’m afraid you won’t be able to get out of those,” a voice emanated from the dark. “Who is that? Who’s there?” Considerably alarmed now, the mare had begun to shiver, her adrenaline flowing. Stepping from the shadows, the stallion walked into the light. This only increased her terror. Gazing down onto her were two black eyes, no visible iris to speak of. The powerful light made them glisten like a starry sky. The black theme continued into his face, horn, neck and body. “Who are you? What is this place?” She continued. “Is it imperative that you get an answer to either of those questions? It won’t help you at all. If anything, it’ll just scare you a little more. And we don’t want that do we?” The mare just stared in disbelief. Who was this guy? Why doesn’t he help me? It was clear that this stallion wanted to keep her here. “What do you want with me?” “Does it really matter to you?” He smiled down at her. “Listen! You quit these games, now. You need me for something. You’ve ponynapped me, brought me to this place and strapped me to this table. I think it very much in my interest to know what you want with me,” she snapped. His smile faded. She’s quite sharp. I might as well tell her. “I need you, to help me.” He began to walk slowly around the head of the trolley. “I don’t quite understand.” She caught a glimpse of his cutie mark - a smiling face with crosses instead of eyes. Who is this? What kind of pony has a cutie mark like that? “My way of life is quite different to that of most ponies; different enough for me to require more than just grass, carrots and apples to survive,” he began, “I also have a very particular profession, one that requires a few budding volunteers to aid me. However, ponies don’t seem to be too willing to take part…” I can’t possibly think why! “But there is no need to worry. It is unlikely that you will feel any pain. But if you do, remember. It is simply a small sacrifice to contribute to the progress of pony understanding.” He removed the cloth from the second, small table exposing an array of well-polished surgical instruments. “What in Celestia’s name are you doing!?” The mare froze, struggling to even breathe. “Now, there really is no need for you to worry about that.” He turned to her, with a wide grin; eyes and teeth both sparkling brightly. “Remember, you should feel lucky. The part you play, however small, may change the world for the better.” She simply continued to stare into the starry expanses of his eyes and thought of home. Her body ached and her fear had petrified her. She no longer had the energy to protest. “Sweet dreams!” He tilted his head. A crack and a flash shot through the room, and the mare’s body went limp. The unicorn got to work, taking a scalpel and making incision after incision; quietly humming to himself. Glancing over at his notes every now and again, he meticulously followed their instruction. He had waited for this day for a long time, and, as he worked, even if it were just the giddiness from his excitement, he felt his strength slowly increasing. He smiled down at the mare. Oh how I’ve missed this!