//------------------------------//
// Scaling Errors 
// Story: Not Another Human in Equestria 
// by Admiral Biscuit 
//------------------------------//

From the mission log of Jonathan Anderson

Day 1
        I have decided to call this a mission log, because that sounds more official than a diary, but in reality, I suppose either term would work.  I expect that this mission log will be fairly short, since the interdimensional transporter is currently set up with a “cast and recall” feature, as we have called it, which simply means that it recovers whatever it has sent within a day or so.

        The technical details can, of course, be found on Earth, and I won’t go into them here, except to say that excitement had been building that we were on the right track for the last year or so, and the first caged monkey that we got back alive and seemingly unharmed physically or intellectually was the morale boost we needed to make me the first interdimensional passenger.

        I have come well-prepared, with a backpack full of supplies for a week’s survival no matter what the circumstances: there seems to be a little variance in the time an object is out for, we have discovered, and there are no theories on why that is.  Regardless, I intend to spend my time simply observing.  Nevertheless, I have brought some gifts that the locals should appreciate, if I happen to make contact.  I have no weapons of any sort.  You can imagine how much that was discussed.  It was decided that it would be best, if we planned on further excursions, that there be no opportunity for the traveler to cause any sort of injury to the locals, and disallowing weapons will suggest that we are peaceful.  I should also state for the record, that I am 75 years old, in somewhat poor health, and missing my right arm from the elbow due to an unfortunate matter transmitter accident a few years back.  That’s right, I’m expendable and not much of a threat.

        I am wearing simple clothes, along with a special hat that has a pair of cameras mounted inside, recording constantly.  Mics pick up audio, and there are a few simple gizmos built into the backpack, too.  Otherwise, no technology.  It is expected that some of my equipment may be strange to the locals, but will not be anything more complicated than they could make, just, perhaps, different than they might have thought of, which could be explained away as cultural differences.  Did I mention that the cameras have a self-destruct sequence—nothing complicated, just a capacitor that can fry all the internal circuitry—which can either be activated by a button, or the audio phrase “antiquing,” spoken three times in a row.  In 48 hours, if not reset, they will self-destruct, as well.

        I stand in a patch of low shrubs outside of the town proper, observing with binoculars the best way to approach without scaring the locals.  I have decided to remain here; there will be other missions, and probably the best way to avoid frightening them is to not approach them.  They seem oblivious to my presence, as far as I can tell.  I estimate I am a few miles from the town proper, and if I lie down, I am barely visible above these shrubs.

Day 2
        All day I observed, my reports a continuous transcript on the audio record.  So far, no inhabitants have made their way over to where I lay.  I wish we had thought to include a shotgun mic; I might have been able to pick up some audio.  The weather is getting cloudy, and I am expecting to be recalled at any moment.

Day 3
        Apparently, our time estimates were off, or else time passes faster here.  No, scratch that, my watch is still accurate, I would think.  Quartz crystals should vibrate at the same frequency, regardless, right?  Maybe the lab boys could answer that question.  I got soaked yesterday, and shivered through the night.  I thought about lighting a fire, but it seemed unwise.

Day 4
        Audio log is full, and the cameras aren’t recording any more, either.  Batteries are dead.  Thank goodness we used solid-state storage.  I pulled the memory cards, and tucked them in the backpack.  I know it’s not protocol, but I’m worried that the capacitators might discharge since I can’t turn the timer off, and I admit I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have to the technical details of the equipment.  I would rather not risk it.  The sun was out today, so I got dried off.

Day 5
        Food supplies are running low.  I’m beginning to wonder if the machine malfunctioned.  I spent all last night moving around; I was getting stiff.  I felt like I was observed, but I never saw any identifiable creatures up close.  Maybe it’s just nerves.

Day 6
        Much the same.  I have come to the conclusion that the machine is probably not going to pull me back anytime in the near future.  Some bird(?) came at me today.  Couldn’t identify the species.  I shooed it off.  I think I’m hallucinating; seemed like it tried to breathe fire at me.  Are there miniature dragons here?  Or full-grown ones?

Day 7
        I think I have enough food for another day, if I stretch it.  I’m going into town.  Machine must be broken.

        Well, that was a surprise.  My briefing was accurate, and so was the target.  The village was occupied by the Equines.  Henceforth, I am keeping this log on my person at all times, in case I, or my body, gets recalled.  I have the camera’s flash cards in my boots, in the secret compartments you insisted that we have installed.  I don’t think these ponies understand the human need for shoes, but should I die I believe they will leave them on my body.  If they do not, I apologize.

        Just like we suspected, they are sentient.  They began gibbering excitedly as I approached, and I held my good hand open to show them I was no threat.  I sat down about a half-mile out of town, just so they wouldn’t fear my approach.  The briefing had suggested that the blue pegasus with the rainbow mane would be the most likely to approach me first, and at a distance, and I am pleased to say that your psychologists hit that nail right on the head.  She flitted up to my face, looked at me with her magenta eyes, then flew back to the others, then back to me, and so on.  The lavender unicorn approached next, followed by the orange pony, then the pink one (who seemed to be having seizures or something), then the white unicorn, and finally the pale yellow pegasus.  They were clearly communicating with each other excitedly, although it was not in any language I understood.

        Incidentally, your language program is worthless.  I didn’t get a single recognizable phrase out of all their conversations.  Given that, I was concerned about trying out the phrase it believed translated to “I am a traveler who means you no harm,” since it would probably come out as “I want to kill you and all your friends.”  Instead, I tried to pantomime that I had no comprehension, and I think they got it.  The lavender unicorn seemed to get all excited, and teleported herself away, and then back again a moment later with her little green companion, who seemed woozy from the experience.

        I spent most of the day just sitting there, as they explored me.  I can’t think  of a better way to describe it.  As the sun was setting, I took out one of my last MREs and ate it.  I also offered them a pony treat.  I broke it up and split it between them.  They seemed suspicious at first, but the pink one ate it and nothing bad happened to her, so the rest tried it.  The blue pegasus kept pantomiming that she wanted more, but I shook my head no.  I think she got the message; she eventually flew off.  Now they are all gone, except the lavender unicorn.  She is watching me write in my log, while writing on her own tiny parchment.

Day 8.
        I woke up this morning to discover by her shout of surprise that the lavender one had fallen asleep on my chest.  I must be the most interesting thing they have ever seen.  About midday, one of their rulers—a white one—came by to look at me (I assume she is in charge, because they all bowed when she arrived).  By the look on her face, and the animated conversation between her and the lavender unicorn, I suspect that they have no idea what to make of me.  I ate my last MRE and gave them another pony treat.  I think tomorrow I am going to leave.  It is unfair to them to stay here, although by the look of interest on the lavender one’s face, she will no doubt wish I could stay.

Day 9.
        I started heading west this morning.  I passed around the shrublands that are near the city, trying as best I can to stay on open ground, where there is little fear of me accidentally damaging something.  The lavender one followed me for the first half of the day, but couldn’t keep up with my long stride.  I worry about what I’ll eat; I suspect that in a year’s time, they’ll find my bleached bones in the desert I can see beyond the nearby hills and wonder at what kind of creature I was.  Perhaps the unicorn will have a theory; it will probably be wrong.

Day 10
        Made it to the desert today.  I can see a town nearly due west (assuming the sun sets in the west) of me; I’m going to head north of it.  I see some sort of creatures which are like buffalo running around; as hungry as I am becoming, I will not attempt to kill one.

Day 11
        Discovered that the blue pegasus is following me.  She is dragging a cloud along with her, and appears to sleep on it at night.  She keeps it high enough I can’t reach her, even if I jump.  I have the feeling that she doesn’t really trust me.  I am sure she is following because the lavender unicorn said she should.  Made it most of the way across the desert; I can see another hilly patch in the distance; maybe even mountains.  The clear air is playing tricks with my mind, and my sense of perspective.  I’m wracking my mind for what usually comes after that, geologically, and then metaphorically kicking myself, because of course the geological rules that apply on earth probably don’t here.

Day 12
        Apparently the white ruler and the lavender unicorn still know where I am, because they teleported themselves near me and conversed excitedly for a while.  I kept walking.

Day 13
        I am in the hills now, and am very hungry.  They are mostly bald of vegetation, come to very abrupt points, and are, in fact, much like miniature mountains.  I should have expected nothing less.  From a high vantage point, I can see a sea off in the distance.  The blue pegasus seems to realize that I haven’t eaten in days.  She seems concerned, if hopping about on her hooves on top of her cloud are an indication of concern, anyways.

Day 14
        Over the hills and I found a lake.  Between filling my canteen and such, I’d say it’s a good foot shallower than it was before, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around it.  The pegasus, unexpectedly, presented me with several small fish, about the size of minnows to me.  She gave me a look like she expected me to eat them, even eating one herself to demonstrate that they were ok to eat.  I’m so hungry, they didn’t help much, but intellectually I know they’re better than nothing at all.  I broke off a piece of pony treat for her.

Day 15
        I finally reached the bank of the sea or ocean that ends this landmass.  I can go no further west.  Tomorrow I am headed south, if I can manage.  I was too tired to do anything else, I collapsed on the beach.  I don’t think the machine works any more.  I wish they had chosen someone in better shape for this mission.  Or someone better equipped to live off the land.  I can see the curvature of the planet from here.  I’m not good enough at math to get an accurate estimate of its size from what I’m seeing, but I suspect it’s smaller than our moon, yet the gravity feels no less.  

Day 16
        I woke this morning to a pile of fish.  I suspect the pegasus spent the night gathering them.  She was looking at me expectantly when I woke.  I took a sip of the water in the ‘ocean’ first thing, and it wasn’t salty.  I’m not sure why that would be.  Perhaps it’s a geologically recent lake, like the Great Lakes, although earth evidence suggests that if it was, I should be able to see the other side across it, and I can’t.  Anyways, I ate the fish and looked around me.  There, on the sand, as clear as day, was an arrow pointing south (that is, I should keep the ‘ocean’ on my right shoulder), and the lavender unicorn was watching, although she seemed a bit uneasy as I ate the fish.  I wonder if the pegasi require a more energy-dense diet?

Day 18
        I walked for almost 36 hours straight (assuming 24 hour day/night cycles; my body clock is so messed up, I’m just not sure).  Both the white leader and a physically identical blue leader(?) walked with me for a while, and the lavender unicorn occasionally teleported herself along my path.  She was wearing her saddlebags, and was just so cute I thought my heart would melt.  Naturally, the rainbow one followed me, too.  She has gotten closer, close enough that I could probably reach out and touch her, if I was so inclined, but it seems best to keep a distance.  I must appear such a monster to them.

Day 20
        They have found me a home on the shores of the ‘ocean.’  I think I will call it the Mare Tranquillitatis, in honor of the lunar seas of my former home.  There was cave that was big enough that I could comfortably fit inside, near a fast-moving river that empties into the ‘ocean.’  Near the cave is a large enough boat that I could safely fit inside, as well as a net.  There are plenty of fruiting shrubs nearby that I can gather from.  It seems that they have selected this place as a home for me.  Tears of gratitude are shed; I wish I could express my thoughts to these creatures who seem to care for me even thought I am clearly a monster to them.  

Day 40?
        I have decided to stop making log entries every day.  It seems as if I will be here for the rest of my life; I suppose there are worse fates.  All the supplies I have brought from Earth are exhausted, save a few more pages of the log (which was only meant to be supplemental to the audio/visual equipment, hah!  Next time make sure you include plenty of paper!), although I have kept a small supply of pony treats, just in case.  It seems like there may yet be a special occasion in which to present them.  I have gotten pretty good at fishing with a net, although the looseness of my clothing suggests that I am far under my usual caloric intake.  Oh well, the doctor said I should lose some weight; wish he could see me now.

Day 100
        I have been attempting to teach the lavender unicorn English.  She is unable to form the sounds.  I assume her vocal cords or whatever she has that passes for them are simply unable to make the proper noises.  She is frustrated by this.  She can make squeaky noises, and horsey noises, but that’s about it.  She has tried spell after spell on herself, and all have been unsuccessful.  I think there is simply too much of a biological difference.

        I stink.  I wash as best as I can in the river, but it isn’t good enough.  I miss soap.  I miss my Tempurpedic bed.  I miss TV.

Day 200?  Or thereabouts.
        I have taught her to read, somewhat.  I remembered that I had a few picture books, after I had finally figured out the business of simple survival, and I showed them to her.  She seems to get the concept, and we exchange notes.  I am afraid my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and my bifocals were lost in a fishing accident.  I cannot read what she has written easily, but she seems to be learning the concept of the language.

Day 365ish
        I am given to understand that I have been here for a year of their time.  I don’t feel well, but I put on a brave face.  The lavender unicorn has written this out in the wet sand on the beach, and it is funny to watch her stomp her hoof in frustration as a large wave wipes out her words, but we are communicating, in a sense, even if it’s scratched in the sand on the beach.  When I write a reply in the sand, the blue pegasus reads it to her.

        All six of the ones I met initially are here, as well as both the princesses.  They threw me a party, as best as I can figure, what passes for a party to them.  Now it is late at night, and I suppose I have to be brief, since this is the last page of my journal.  It is dark, now, and the princesses have left.  The pink one collapsed on the little table she brought, spilling what was left of the punchbowl when she laid her head on it.  The other earth pony, the orange-ish one is asleep in my lap.  The blue pegasus is on one shoulder, and the lavender unicorn is curled up at my feet.  The white unicorn and the pale yellow pegasus are talking behind my head.  They are trying to be quiet; I think they can see I’m drifting off to sleep.  I wish I knew what they were saying.  I am so tired.

Day 465
        I have so little space.  I think they know my time is almost up.  The blue pegasus is staying close, and so is the purple unicorn.  I haven’t left the cave for a week.  They bring me food, but I don’t feel like eating.  I wonder if I should be thinking about how I got here, a stranger in a strange land, so to speak, magical ponies the size of housecats, but I don’t regret a minute of it.  If you ever find this log, don’t lament my passing, crack open a beer and sing praises to whomever you desire that the last years of my life were the best.  Teaching the unicorn how to write continues.  We have made real progress, although she is having trouble with grammar rules.  No surprise.  As logical as her mind is I think a Latin speaker is a requirement henceforth.  The pegasus and unicorn look worried, did I say they haven’t left my side in the last week, ever since the pink one did I don’t know what, it was lost in translation but the unicorn wrote something about pink sense.

Day 470
        It feel proper to finish log.  I know that perhaps it might go back with body by some kind of unknown?  I sorry that I never full know writing but it hard.  Not able to speak because of unknown?  

        Jonathon Anderson stopped(?) two day ago.  Princess not know how to fix before, now too later.  I miss Jonathon Anderson.  He seem nice.

        I keep study.  Maybe one day I learn more.  I not know what his ? does when he stops, so I maked rocks over cave, and writed message on rocks.  Sad I could used more time, know him better.  Kindest monster Fluttershy sayed.  If log go back please we did best even but him as biggest as dragon.

        --Twilight Sparkle.