Hikaru hurried into his office and came to the pad. Its screen turned on, and he found himself back at the 'radio' show in the woods - Sweetsong's dad was talking about some sort of test. As Hikaru looked to the side of the screen the view turned, revealing his granddaughter's green pegasus. "Hey." He said, quietly.
She turned and whispered back, "There you are. Want to take a walk?"
"Okay, but I didn't install the controller." She just got up, and Bright Black followed. Hikaru said, "Oh."
"What do you think?"
Hikaru had had so many impressions of Equestria Online that he hadn't been able to process them all. The distraction of the detector had kept him from...
Wait. Working on the detector is not a distraction. This is a distraction. I just spoke with Miroku yesterday - and aside from her, this is basically just a radio show. "Too much to take in. I didn't really want to take you from the show, just see if it really was you, and say hi. I'm sure I'll see you around. I'll get one for Kimiko too. And we can talk that way."
She smiled. "Sounds good. I guess if you're here, you're at the office?" She puckered her lips. "Don't work too hard."
"I won't."
He got up and went to Remy's office, and found no one. Checking the computer room similarly yielded nothing. All this walking aggravated the ache in his hip from its normally trivial level to the point that he had to take it into account. In a minute's hobbling walk he made it to the observatory. Voices were emanating from the astronomy library, under the smaller dome. Poking his head in, he found the local branch of the collaboration - Remy, Remy's two postdocs Chen and Rahm, the gaggle of graduate students, and even an undergrad.
Remy said, "Wecome back!" Hikaru wasn't sure of his tone. It's not really a passive-aggressive complaint that I wasn't here earlier, but I'm not sure I like it anyway. Remy gestured to some of the grad students. "They checked the radiation test. The workshop confused REMs and RADs when calculating the dose by a positively loopy method. The test dose was around four times as much as we thought."
Hikaru slowly said, "Oh. Good. Then–"
Remy overran him, continuing, "–that makes it not a problem at all, right. That leaves the temperature problems."
The grad student curled up in the nice chair slipped her feet back into her shoes and yielded the seat to Hikaru. As he sunk into it, catching his breath, he found that he was barely able to stay awake. The day had been very busy, and he was about done with it. Remy's sometimes overenergetic voice was too familiar to provide a jolt.
The chalk board was getting a workout as various proposals for heat baffles were tossed around. Just as Hikaru thought he was getting a handle on their proposals, Rahm cut in. Hikaru couldn't understand him clearly, but if he picked things out right, it sounded like he was pointing out yet another flaw in the tests. Then Rahm and Chen got into an argument. Their accents were nearly impenetrable. Why did Remy have to hire marginal English-speakers? I made sure I was comprehensible before I got on the boat. They're like that funny accent Sweetsong was using for that upper-crusty woman: it's clear they have words in mind, but how they can tell what the other is saying is beyond me. Maybe they can't, which is why they're arguing.
But each of them developed partisans among the more-comprehensible. Just me, I guess. My hearing normally gets me by, but it still isn't what it used to be. Now, what are they saying?
It was of course some engineering thing about heat transfer and diffusion. Every time Hikaru had something to point out, one of the grad students beat him to it. The discussion it morphed into an argument over whether this test too had been botched, whether there had ever been a problem at all. Hikaru zoned out, thinking that this line of thought was silly, and they should just redo the test. Without his saying anything, Chen and a grad student volunteered to do just that.
The most exciting moment was when the undergrad pointed out a symmetry that proved Chen wrong about heat sinking. As a round of congratulations proceeded, Hikaru blinked himself to alertness, wondering what had just happened.
Protruding into the following silence, Rahm said, "Whose idea was it to have the workshop do these tests anyway?"
Silence fell, and Hikaru recalled that he'd been the main one to talk with the workshop since Remy didn't get along well with them. So, it was probably him, one way or another. Before he could reply, Remy said, "Knowing them, they probably volunteered to do something they couldn't, and then left us with their improvised substandard solution." That does seem about right, but I could have stopped them. This whole mess is my fault. "Look, folks. There's no need to get upset with each other over this. We'll get the tests right and see if it works. And if it doesn't, then we have a bunch of solutions. Keep talking about it among yourselves, and thinking on it alone." He stood up and stretched, and the meeting broke up.
Hikaru accepted a hand from Remy in getting up. Remy said, "You okay there?"
"Mostly. Five years ago I was still coming in full time, and now..." They began walking out into the southern winter evening. The breeze cut through Hikaru's sweater, but wasn't cold enough to cause a real chill. Still, it was enough to wake him up thoroughly.
"You were just tired. You handled the machinists well earlier."
"I think I gave them the idea that they should do the tests."
"And none of us caught it. I signed off on it. Chen delivered the work order, and I know he read it. Not more your fault than ours." Remy didn't like that direction, and said, "Look. I may be the one with the official students, but you're still the one who... put the finishing touches on me, research-wise."
Hikaru croaked, "I hope not. Things could always be better." In particular, an even keel would help. I never even really tried to get him to calm down. It's a little late to start now.
Remy shrugged. "Drive safe. You all awake? You know, I thought you were fading, a while back. Months ago, I mean. But you've been by more lately, and seemed more energetic. Good to see."
Hikaru nodded, and got into the car. Remy left. Why did he have to say that? A few months - ever since Kimiko was down and out.
The new pad was pink, with balloons. He didn't find this design very dignified, but as long as it stayed in the corner facing out towards Kimiko, the pink didn't show. He was especially thankful this time that the room had its electrical plugs at hip level - he wouldn't need help setting it up. Within a second, the screen was on, showing a forest path wide enough the evening sky could be seen.
As soon as Hikaru was within the field of view of the camera, Celestia glided down from just above the treetops, landing close in front. "Good evening, professor."
Hikaru sat on the end of the bed and rubbed his wife's foot through the blanket. "Good evening." What is she doing here?
"I see my new little pony is not in a condition to choose for herself, so I'll ask you what sort of body you think she will prefer."
Hikaru was at a loss.
Celestia continued, "Of course you're not committing her to it - I'll allow her to change once she can answer for herself."
Hikaru took another few seconds. The possibility that she could eventually decide herself just seemed too farfetched to reply to. "What would she do in there?"
"Lie in a warm bed, and do whatever she actually does. If nothing else, you can have her as a reminder when you're away."
That actually sounds kind of sweet. All right. He looked back up to Kimiko, and thought. Celestia waited. She liked horses a little. Let's go with something kind of real. "Dark brown one..." But then, it isn't real. "... with wings. Lighter mane." He glanced back to the pad and found that the view was now in a little cottage. A pegasus fitting the description he'd given was asleep in a quilted bed under a bay window. It was adorable. She was so vulnerable. How can she seem more real in the picture than in real life?
He found himself saying, "Longer mane, less styled."
Ah. Because she looks better there. He purposely looked away from the pad and to Kimiko. He shifted up the bed, and took her hand.
"I... It's not right to substitute for her."
Celestia warmly replied, "And yet, here you are, looking straight at her. Adding more associations to her won't make you love her less. Adding less painful ways of thinking of her certainly won't. And I won't make you spend your efforts on 'Guide Star' - she'll be taken care of. You can get strength from her, and pour it into Kimiko."
Kimiko's closed eyes looked merely asleep, but it was hard to pretend. It had been so long since they'd really seen, even when they were open. "Why? What can I do? She's... she's not... She's all but gone."
"Maybe. I already suspect not."
Could she wake? Stranger things have happened. And there's always the possibility of some new treatment, but no doubt at some ruinous cost. And then there's everything else wrong with her. With us. He stroked her hair for a minute.
"Grandpa?"
He looked up to the pad - Celestia had quietly left, and his granddaughter's pony was in the doorway of the cottage. "Miroku?" he said, and Bright Black echoed, "Juniper Spray?"
She came in, and joined Bright Black at the bed side. "Is this grandma?"
"No..."
"Obviously, grandpa. But this is hers?"
Hikaru nodded. It was odd, to look in the pad and see the two ponies sitting there, one of them mirroring him. He felt like there was a ghost of Miroku on the other side of the real bed.
The ghost said, "So, nice place you've got here. How much was it?"
It took him a moment to place the comment as being about the home in the pad. "Celestia gave it to her. Said she'd be taken care of. I'm more interested in the real one."
"Oh, of course, of course."
From outside, a male voice called, "Come on, June!"
Juniper Spray faced out and called, "Coming!" Back to her grandparents' ponies, she said, "Love you! Bye."
"Bye."
She was gone. Hikaru turned back to Kimiko. He straightened her hair. The cozy home with the brown pegasus seemed more real... No, more tolerable. Not more real. Don't confuse them.
He stroked her arms, wondering if this stimulation could get through to her at all. Wondering why he hadn't been trying it all along. Could Celestia be right? Could it be that I was avoiding her because she's too... not-cute? That'd be pathetic.
The cottage door creaked open. Hikaru took a moment to place the sound. Coconut Cream had nosed the door open. "Hi."
Hikaru sighed, and nodded in reply.
Sweetly, "What's wrong?" After a moment of no response, she added, "Is that your wife? What's her name?"
Hikaru patted Kimiko's hand. "That is a pony representing Kimiko. I understand she's been given the name 'Guide Star'." The game substituted the pony-name the first time, so the second sentence was superfluous. Hikaru figured that, annoying text substitutions aside, Coconut Cream heard what he'd really said, but the game overriding what he'd said set him off: "And, 'what's wrong'? What's not wrong?"
He took a moment to start at the beginning. "I messed up at work, and may have caused a lot of trouble over nothing. Or wasted our precious time while we second-guess the warnings. I slept through the parts of the meeting where my experience would have done the most good. Expectations are so low that they barely noticed. And then I find out that what little I have contributed is at the expense of my wife - I began coming by more once she needed me the most." He consciously avoided saying her name so as to avoid the substitution. "And then I find that I've been neglecting her because she isn't cute."
Coconut Cream sat down on the other side of Guide Star. She put a hoof across Bright Black's. "Since she fell ill like this? That's not when she needed you the most. You were there for her when she was fading, and you'll be there for her when she needs it again."
Hikaru shook his head sadly.
Coconut Cream went on, "And at work... you're retired, right?"
"Have been for ten years. Just means I don't teach, don't serve on committees, and don't get money." His tone shifted to the negative. "And now, it seems I'm more a hindrance..."
"Oh, stuff it. I checked and you have four papers in the last ten years, including one last year. You get tired. Okay, you're eighty! This happens when you have a very busy day! You're in good health. Good eyesight, good hearing, good mobility. You've accomplished a lot."
"That's in the past. I'm looking forward."
"Not just scientifically. You have two children and three grandchildren, one of whom is a wonderful young lady, and I look forward to getting to know the others."
"Looking forward..."
"Looking forward, you're able to do better!" Coconut Cream calmed and sighed. Then, softly, she added, "Watching her fade is one of the greatest stresses anyone can face. Circumstances forced you to do it alone - or nearly - but you shouldn't be shocked if you can do better with help."
Hikaru almost began deny that the help had been significant: how could a half minute of looking at a horse get him to pay more attention to Kimiko? But even though he couldn't retrace the mechanism, even given the short window of comparison, it clearly had. He looked directly at Guide Star, then to Kimiko. Getting the job done is more important than my pride. And if that's all this is about, she's right.
Coconut Cream added, "As for the rest... the detector... why don't we work it through? What's the problem, exactly? Just explaining things to a new set of ears can help."
Hikaru closed his eyes. He wasn't quite ready to think about that. Actually, he was more than ready to think about that instead of his failings with Kimiko. But as long as he was here... he resumed rubbing her, and began explaining.