//------------------------------// // 22 - A Necessary Evil // Story: Days of Wasp and Spider // by Luna-tic Scientist //------------------------------// Days of Wasp and Spider by Luna-tic Scientist === Chapter 22 (remastered): A Necessary Evil === Korn swallowed heavily as the white servitor entered the examination room. He'd been warned by Salrath that her good will was all that was keeping him out of a high security prison, and that this had better go smoothly. Guilt twisted him up inside; ever since Vanca had told him about the Synod's decision he'd felt sick to his stomach. He'd almost rebelled, almost told the Academician where she could stick her orders... but he'd also heard the horror stories about Security's private prisons, places a Person would vanish into without any pretence of a trial. The memory of that meeting was still stark and fresh in his mind. === The office was already full when Korn reached the frosted glass door. He'd been on the other side of the campus, trying to extract something useful from a cluster of partially corrupted data cores, when the Academician's call had come through. His protests that stopping the work now would further speed the randomisation of the files fell on deaf ears, so he'd left the clean room and rushed to Vanca's new office, a conference room she'd sequestered, much to the disgust of the other staff in the area. Korn hesitated at the door; at least one of the dark shadows didn't look like one of the People, more like a servitor -- although why one would be attending this urgent meeting was a mystery. He shrugged and tapped on the glass, pushing open the door at the sound of Vanca's raised voice. The first thing he saw were the eyes. Great orange things set into a white feathered head that was almost an afterthought, either side of a beak big enough to shear through one of his legs. The edges of that beak glittered slightly in the room's spotlighting, as if its owner had been sharpening it. "Gryphon... what--" he whispered, tearing his gaze away from that predatory stare. This was the first time he'd been close to one of the creatures in almost half a gigasecond; he'd forgotten just how intimidating they were. Worse still were the Security patches on its shoulders, which could only mean... "So good of the Student to join us, " Agent Salrath said. Korn's ears flattened and he turned slowly to face the grinning Agent. She was lounging in one of the tall backed conference chairs, her smile getting even wider when she saw the expression on his face. Korn tried to calm his features, but dread he was feeling made it almost impossible. The research he'd been doing the night before came rushing back, and a terrible sensation of guilt flooded him. The Agent knows, he thought, she must know! "Korn is s- sorry, Agent Salrath, he was--" "It doesn't matter, Student. Sit," Vanca said in a weary tone." Korn quickly took the indicated chair, finding himself sandwiched between the Agent and her gryphon. Unwilling to look at either of them -- he could feel the eyes of the half bird Security trooper staring at him, the intensity so unnerving that he edged his chair slightly further away -- he looked at Vanca, willing her to explain this unwelcome turn of events. Vanca fidgeted in her chair and failed to meet his gaze, something that made Korn even more nervous; she was always certain, always in command. She sighed and threw up her paws, finally looking him in the eye. "Vanca is sorry, but she will have to find you another project to work on." "What! But this one thought that--" "It is nothing to do with Korn's performance," the Academician said hastily, "Vanca has always been satisfied with the Student's work. Unfortunately the research has strayed into areas under the World Court's purview, and the Synod has decided to halt the work for now." Salrath gave a dark chuckle at that, earning her a glare from Vanca. "Tell the truth, Academician. The work is being euthanized." The Agent laughed openly at her joke, keeping her gaze focused on Korn. Korn stared at Salrath, confusion giving way to anger as he began to get an idea what the Agent was talking about. "No, Korn will not--" he said, surging up out of his chair to confront Salrath, only to be slammed back down again by a set of hard talons on his shoulders. "Stay calm, young Master," the gryphon hissed from right next to Korn's ear. The soldier had stepped close while Vanca was talking, moving silently despite its size. Korn slumped in his chair and the claws were removed. Vanca leaned forward across her desk. "Korn need not be concerned about his future; Vanca has a considerable amount of influence at the Institute, and will be able to get him a new project within a few megaseconds." Korn doesn't care about the work! The thought startled him, and he almost blurted it out. "What will happen to the experimental subjects?" he said, resolutely avoiding looking at Salrath. It didn't make any difference; he could feel her smile widening. Vanca laid her paws flat on the desk. "They cannot be allowed back into the general labour pool, so we will try to extract as much information from them as possible before their euthanization. Korn has had the most contact with TC4668; he will design the--" "Before the scientists get too deep into the details, there is something Salrath needs to share with them." The Agent did something to her comms bracer, opening a link to the conference room's wall screen. The panel lit up with copies of documents -- background information on the Blessing, historical files and so on -- and several high resolution cross sections of a servitor's horn, one of which was full of dark cracks. Korn's blood ran cold. This is Korn's research, how-- He glanced over at the Agent, the knowing glint in her eyes derailing the thought. "Where did this come from?" he said faintly. Vanca was ignoring both of them, having padded over to the screen to look at the files more closely, a small mercy that Korn was grateful for. "An on-going investigation. Apologies, but Salrath is not allowed to discuss it," the Agent said blandly, holding Korn's gaze. She lowered her voice, pitching it so only Korn could hear her words. "It's shocking that this went unnoticed; was Korn aware that removal of a servitor's Blessing is a violation of WC Security Council rules? It's practically a war crime." Amid the fear that flooded his mind was a trace of anger at the way Salrath was playing with him, but it was only a flicker. Why is the Agent doing this? Why isn't Korn under arrest already? There could only be one explanation: she wasn't sure. He swallowed heavily as he thought about that a little more. Or is it just because Salrath wants to see this one squirm? "What is your point, Agent?" Vanca said, turning to Salrath and frowning. "This one suspects that your experiments have inadvertently removed the servitor's Blessing." Vanca snorted, muzzle twisting into a sneer. "That again? What, does the Agent want to put out its other eye? Vanca looked into how the Blessing operates after Salrath's little demonstration; the spell is designed to regenerate from a pattern impressed in the servitor's horn if it gets disrup--" Vanca fell silent, her mouth half open, then slowly turned to face the screen. "Salrath knew there was a reason that Vanca had achieved her rank." The Academician either didn't hear or just ignored the jibe, and continued to stare at the horn cross sections with their patterns of cracks. "How was this missed?" she whispered. Then, in a sharp voice: "Student Korn was responsible for checking the creature's health. Why didn't he notice that?" "Korn is a thaumophysicist, not a veterinarian," Korn said, the fear making his tone more acid than he'd intended and earning him a frown from Vanca. "Korn sent the scans to Vanca that first night, and the servitor was checked by veterinarians that she dispatched. He can only assume that the data was never seen by an expert in the conditioning process." Vanca relaxed slightly, looking shamefaced. "Korn has spent a lot of time with the animal--" "Become quite attached to it, this one thinks," Salrath said, her suggestive tone making both Korn and Vanca wrinkle their muzzles in distaste. "--has he noticed any changes in its behaviour?" Vanca finished, giving Salrath a glare that the Agent returned with a smile. "How would Korn know? He's never worked with a servitor subjected to this level of stress before. It has never shown any signs of disobeying an order, if that is what the Academician means," Korn said, unconsciously raising one paw to rub at the still tender hoof-shaped bruise on his chest, stopping when he realised what he was doing. Salrath was spying on Korn and followed the same reasoning, he thought. His suspicions from that night resurfaced, stronger than ever, quickly followed by more fear. Security has far more access than this one does; was Korn right after all? The conversation drifted on, moving into the plan for calling the servitors in for a check-up, and the best way to handle the probably conditioning free Fusion. Korn contributed mechanically when asked, but mostly just stared off into the middle distance, trying to think of a way out of this mess. He'd always planned to check when the servitor next came into the lab; perhaps if he'd figured it out earlier he could have fixed this problem before it got out of paw, but now it looked like he was too late. Too late to save the pony, and probably too late to save himself. === Korn bit at the end of his tongue, hoping the pain would distract him from these unpleasant memories. Fortunately, all he had to do was keep his face expressionless and not do anything that might alarm the servitor. For its sake he did his best, he hated what they were about to do, but at least he could try and reduce its suffering as much as possible. He could see the expression on the white pony's face change from normal nerves to one of worry as she glanced at him. She's so good at reading this one! he cursed inside, turning away so the servitor didn't see any more. He busied himself with the autosurgeon's controls, running unnecessary self tests. The make-work did nothing to wipe the image of Fusion's face, the pure white of her prosthetic eye bringing back memories of when she'd glanced up at the camera in the beam dump chamber. Korn found his paws trembling and clenched them into fists, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. He heard Vanca talk to the pair of ponies, then the click-click of the veterinarian's hooves on the hard floor as it moved to stand next to Fusion. "No!" Flinching at the servitor's sudden shout, Korn whirled around in time to see it stagger and thrash its wings, before the veterinarian held it still in a field of red magic. Clenching his teeth he said nothing as the pony's sibling stepped forward, its concern obvious. Still silent, he watched as Salrath entered the room with a gryphon soldier and ordered the blue pony to leave. It went with some reluctance, having to be encouraged by the gryphon, but soon the click of its hoofsteps faded. Korn knew where it was being taken, one of the animal housing units, far enough away that it wouldn't be able to detect what was about to happen to its kin. Then, when the first dissection was complete, it would be brought back to suffer the same fate. Korn hated himself for not pushing the issue further -- it had been his idea to take the white servitor by surprise, to keep Salrath out of the room until the drugs could take effect. He'd wanted to separate the two ponies right at the start, before they could have any idea what was to happen, but Salrath had vetoed the plan without any attempt to explain why. He'd started to protest, but she'd just said how much she admired his bravery, all things considered. Vanca hadn't supported his request, so that was that. Paws clenched, Korn watched as the Agent leaned in to whisper to the drugged servitor. He was too far away to hear what she'd said, but by the nasty smile on her muzzle it was something unpleasant. To his right the red veterinarian shuffled nervously, face a mask of professional detachment even while his eyes were fixed on Salrath and Fusion. His horn pulsed with little random glows as he prepared the euthanization drugs for the next step in the process. At least it will be quick, Korn thought, once the scan is complete the pony will just slip into one final sleep. At least it would be quick if that sadist would get out of the way! Whatever Salrath was saying to the pony was having some effect; its chest heaved and heart thundered like it was running from some predator. Probably wants to, he thought blackly. For a brief moment Korn eyed the autosurgeon's controls; the thing was a research model and it was possible to override all the safety protocols. A few key presses and the speed limiter for the number two sensor arm was deactivated. The machine knew where everyone around it was -- necessary for the safety of any observer -- and it took only a swipe of his paw to instruct the sensor pod to image Salrath's head from negative range. The arm descended at full speed, striking the Agent on the crown of her head with the blunt heat sink fins on its underside. She collapsed to the floor, too dazed to do anything more than struggle weakly when the surgical suite enfolded her. The cutting blades spun up with a toothache inducing whine and the Agent lost body parts in quick succession, almost seeming to dissolve as skin, flesh, organs and limbs were stripped away and transported in a gory stream into the medical system's organ banks. Then Salrath stepped away from the pony and Korn's bloody fantasy was broken. At a gesture from Vanca, he turned to the surgical robot's controls and ordered it to prepare to receive a subject. The big machine was hooked into the eugenics database and already had comprehensive information on the white servitor's physiological parameters; it was the matter of moments for it to grip the unfortunate creature and lift her off the ground. The pony outweighed one of the People by a factor of four or so, but the arms rotated her to the horizontal with no difficulty, pushing her head and neck through the aperture of the scanner. A few seconds in the superconducting torus and the T/MRI had updated its map of the servitor's brain. The secondary arms swung down, warning buzzers sounding as the X ray units swept the head and other, more esoteric, sensors completed their tasks. Finally the robotic ballet was complete and all the sensors retracted, and the pony was pulled from the maw and left on its side. "That will be all, veterinarian," Vanca said. The red servitor looked shocked, gaze flicking from Vanca, to the injector it still held, and back to Vanca again. "M-Master?" it said, confusion obvious. "The servitor is relieved, and will return to its work detail," Vanca said sharply. The pony stood there for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing, then tensed all over. "Yes, Master," it gasped, voice distorted by pain. The pony turned and stumbled towards the door, wings twitching and uttering faint hackle-raising noises of distress. Korn stared at the Academician in horror. "But the pony is still conscious!" he blurted out, jerking his paws away from the autosurgeon's controls like they had suddenly become radioactive. "Yes," Vanca said slowly, as if trying to sooth a small child. "We need to map the neural pathways in detail, so the servitor needs to be alive and awake. The use of general anaesthesia will change its brain biochemistry too much." "But the pain--" "--is unfortunate, but is not a problem -- and will actually help us," Vanca said loudly, cutting Korn off. "Without the Blessing its survival instinct will take over and it will try and use its magic to escape, even though its actions will be fruitless. We'll be able to follow this in real time, once the outer layers of tissue are removed. In a way this is fortuitous, it will stop the animal being pushed into punishment fugue." "And the other servitor?" Korn asked, feeling numb. "We'll need to check the results." "Korn understands," he said tightly. Korn understands too well. Vanca narrowed her eyes at this, seeing the tension in the Korn's paws and forearms. "Perhaps the Agent was correct; Korn does appear to be too attached to this servitor." She reached a decision. "Vanca will take control of the autosurgeon." Korn moved to one side, letting Vanca use the controls. His mind whirled, hunting for something he could do to avert the terrible scene that was playing out in front of him. The guilt gnawed at his heart; the ponies were built to serve, bred and trained for those difficult and dangerous tasks that one of the People would never be able to undertake. Because of this, he'd accepted the casualties he'd seen while working for Vanca, understood that the losses were regrettable, but necessary for the advancement of science. The others had been quick and clean, as fast a death as only a relativistic particle beam could supply. He'd lost a little sleep over them, but he'd been able to work afterwards. This, though... this was something else. This was ugly. He balled his paws into fists, his well-trimmed claws not in fighting condition like Salrath's, but still sharp enough to raise blood from a few spots on his palms. He thought again of the Agent's veiled threat of an extended stay at Security's pleasure, then suddenly realised that the pain and guilt of living with doing nothing would haunt him; this atrocity would poison everything from this point onwards. But what can Korn do? he thought, mind racing. '...it will stop the animal being pushed into punishment fugue...' Vanca's words ran through his head, and a nasty idea settled in his mind. He reached a decision. Korn wants to be able to sleep at night, he thought. Keeping one eye on Salrath, who seemed unable to take her gaze off the white servitor, Korn surreptitiously ran one claw over the autosurgeon's secondary instrument panel, opening a video link to the animal housing unit currently occupied by the servitor's blue-coated kin. The sound was off, but the video was both ways, the screen at the other end taking a feed from the surgical suit's overhead camera. There was little he could do for Fusion -- Vanca had locked him out of the autosurgeon, and Salrath would be more than happy to beat him into submission if he tried anything more physical -- but perhaps he could do something for its kin. He'd seen Gravity's medical records and knew the pony was judged to be more susceptible to punishment fugue than most. If he could show it something bad enough to trigger an attack, then the stress was likely to be fatal before it could suffer the two kilosecond surgical program that Vanca was configuring the robot for. Something like a high resolution video of its sister being vivisected. On his monitor the blue pony had just caught sight of the suddenly active wall screen at its end. Confusion gave way to a dawning horror as it realised what it was seeing. === Gravity followed the gryphon out of the examination room, dragging her hooves in her reluctance to leave. The last thing she saw as she left the room was the still form of her sister, hanging limply in Animal's magical grasp. The worry ate at her. What are they doing? she thought. Why lie to us about the examination? Unless... The blue mare swallowed heavily, remembering the other surgical robot back at the particle accelerator lab. Her mind shied away from that place and the awful implications of the work that was done there. Little flashes of her last nightmare surfaced, and she desperately cast around for an alternative explanation. Maybe they suspect and are going to replace Fusion's Blessing? she thought, suddenly feeling better. That makes sense, the Masters wouldn't want to take a chance on my sister damaging anything again. Gravity picked up her pace, eager to reach their destination and make up for her sloth in leaving the room. I hope they do the same for me. The relief didn't last for long, her doubts and worries crowding back in the more her mind picked at the things she'd done and seen, just now and over the last day. I just hid something from a Master, Gravity thought. Oh, sure -- she'd not been ordered to tell, but it was obvious that her new Masters wanted and needed to know this secret. Yesterday her solution to the problem of Fusion's actions seemed to be ideal; Fusion's discoveries -- and any she would make with this new power -- would go a long way to earn the Master's forgiveness, to show, to prove, that they were both loyal and worthy of being granted the Maker's Touch for a second time. This morning, after a long and sleepless night, the plan was a fragile thing; a vague and fuzzy hope that was rapidly boiling away under the reality of the situation. Has Fusion been living with this uncertainty for almost a megasecond? Gravity thought, resolutely staring down the corridor. Perhaps it is better to be discovered now, before things get out of hoof. When they call me back I will tell them everything, beg forgiveness. I'm sure the Masters will understand. Decision made, she regained her initial eager pace. === Gunnulf grumbled to himself as he lengthened his stride to catch up with the suddenly trotting blue pony. Why in the Maker's name is she suddenly so enthusiastic? Exactly how naïve are you? he thought, throat fluttering as he started to feel a little warm from the exercise. With a burst of speed, the gryphon accelerated to keep pace with her, their combined bulk filling two thirds of the corridor. Even though this part of the subterranean building wasn't heavily occupied, they still encountered a dozen or so Masters in the corridors, and Gunnulf found it amusing to watch them try to decide what to do about a fast moving pony and battledress wearing gryphon bearing down upon them. The pony moved to one side to give the Masters as much room as possible, but Gunnulf didn't bother. Without fail, their faces went from annoyance at the racket the pony's hooves were making on the hard floor, to more-or-less carefully guarded fear when they saw the Security decal on each shoulder of his armour harness. The gryphon decided that he liked the idea of the Masters moving out of his way. The animal house was fascinating and irritating at the same time. All those ready-to-pick morsels in little metal cages on the walls, all making the little rustling sounds that just screamed 'food' to the gryphon. Gunnulf found himself getting hungry, surrounded by so many snacks he wasn't allowed to take. Useless duty rations, he thought, I haven't had anything fresh all day. Visions of the aerie's enclosed rabbit farm flooded his mind, brought back by the sight of a cage full of fat black and white bunnies. Being allowed to chase down his dinner when he was but a chick had always been a special treat from his parents, and the thought of one of those furry packages of flesh wriggling under his claws almost caused him to open the cage. Surely they won't miss just one, he thought, a foreclaw reaching out for the latch holding the door shut. The rabbits were all cowering at the back of the cage; despite this he caught sight of something written on the inside of each animal's ear. It's a serial number, the gryphon thought, grunting with disappointment and turning away to watch his prisoner. Gravity had slowed from her bouncy trot, becoming more hesitant as she walked past the walls covered with cages. Near the end of the room she froze, staring down at something on the floor. The mare’s body language changed abruptly, ears folding back and wings drooping. What has she seen? Gunnulf thought, padding up behind her. === We're nothing but slaves to them. Fusion's words came back to the mare as she stepped over the threshold and into the room. Like the first, this was lined with a variety of cages, although there was no big, robotic surgeon on the far wall, this being replaced by a row of desks and a large computer screen. The cages were also not empty. Various scurrying and scrabbling noises greeted the pair as they walked down the line of cages; most were rodents, which all reacted the same way to the gryphon, by trying to dig their way through the steel and glass bottoms of their enclosures to escape the giant carnivore now among them. The sounds and furtive movements put Gravity back on edge, causing her brief confidence to fade into worry and fear. Her hoofsteps slowed further as she passed the largest cages furthest from the door. After that were four stalls, two on each side, extending back into the wall. Please let them be empty, she thought desperately, I couldn't stand it if-- One of the four alcoves had a pony in it. The stallion -- hardly more than a colt, really -- lay watching her with sleepy eyes, eyes which snapped open when the gryphon came into view. The soldier seemed to enjoy the fear he'd caused, leaning close to stare at the youngster. The pony in turn pushed back with his forelegs in an attempt to get away from this new and threatening creature, a reaction that seemed to please the gryphon immensely. Gravity watched this behaviour with disgust; she'd been ordered to go with this gryphon, but the Master hadn't said anything about letting him terrorise ponies unable to defend themselves. Besides, she'd seen glimpses of what had happened at the training field. "Why don't you pick on somepony closer to your own size, soldier?" she said, real anger filling her voice. Her wings flared out slightly, half raised as if she intended to fly. The result was immediate and gratifying. The armoured bird-cat flinched, whirling around and backing away from the mare on three legs, while scrabbling for his shoulder mounted autogun with the fourth. "Don't threaten me, pony," he snarled, trembling foreclaw finally managing to unhitch the gun from its stowed position. Gravity blinked at this reaction; the gryphon seemed to be almost terrified of her. "I am not threatening you, but I will not allow you to bully this pony," she said, stepping between the soldier and the young stallion. "Put the gun away or I will take it off you." The soldier did something to a control on one foreleg. "I'd like to see you try," he said, hissing maliciously. Gravity felt the static thrill of a force field activating and dipped briefly into her shadow sight to see what he'd done. The gryphon, a dark silhouette with slender golden bars marking his magically active wing bones, stood at the centre of a purple polygon, the only other glows coming from the crystal thaumic systems in his armour harness and a tight spiral of red from the magazine of his gun. The mare let a smile spread across her face, wide and full of teeth. "That field will protect you from my telekinesis, but little more. Didn't you hear what Shock Diamond and the other foals did to a unit of gryphon troopers just a few days ago? Perhaps you think my orders will protect you -- but I'm sorry to say that no Master gave me any specific instructions. I, like everypony, have standing orders to shelter my kind from harm wherever possible." The gryphon's foreclaw tightened on the trigger bar and Gravity lit her horn in reply, calling up the latent patterns of her own force field, all while worming her own magic through the soldier's thaumic defences. The tension built, and the mare could see the fear and anger warring for control of the gryphon's features. Realising the soldier might do something stupid out of fear alone, Gravity tried to diffuse the situation, folding her legs and lying down in the opening of the alcove, blocking the young pony's view of the soldier. === This is what got you kicked out of the Talons, you stupid-- Gunnulf clenched his beak together as the mare, horn still glowing, calmly lay down in front of the youngster, who stared back at him with frightened eyes. As much as he disliked ponies, he had to admit that this place was starting to give him the creeps. The scar tissue on the side of that youngster's head brought back memories of whispered conversations about isolated laboratories run by the Eugenics Board, places using gryphons as their subjects... You've been in this job for three days; maybe this is not the time to start a pointless fight. Gunnulf hissed in frustration and flicked his autogun back over his shoulder, getting some minor satisfaction from the way the stallion jumped at the sudden movement. Turning his back on them, he stomped off back down the lab, slamming one scaly fist into an empty cage as he went. Planting himself squarely in the doorway, the gryphon dropped to the floor with an audible thump. Staring at the two ponies, Gunnulf started to strop his talons against the floor and thought murderous thoughts. I should have been able to face her down, he brooded, the anger and self recrimination leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. That's the third time a pony has gotten the best of you. Gunnulf stared at the blue mare's back as she talked to the one she was calling 'Lilac', then held up one scaly foreleg and spread the digits so they covered his view of Gravity. He clenched them shut, feeling his tendons move as the talons curled into a cage of black knives, imagining the pony struggling weakly as those needle tips buried themselves in tender muscle, the feeling of her bones shifting in his beak, the taste of her blood in his mouth and-- --a darkened field of grass and a pony with murder in her eyes and a horn that seemed to blaze with heatless flames. A flash of orange. Staring desperately out at the world through a glowing haze the colour of a bonfire. Violent impacts and the feeling of utter helplessness that came with being held in an invisible grip that could not be broken. Gunnulf made a quiet keening at the back of his throat, fighting off the memory and trying to still his pounding heart. I am not a coward, he thought, these ponies don't scare me! The fear was slow to subside, and he dug one talon into the soft skin of his throat, welcoming the pain as a distraction. Next time I won't back down. Next time she's dead. === Gravity watched the soldier stalk off to the other end of the lab and let out a long breath, releasing the tension she'd been holding in. Turning back to the stallion, she smiled calmly and brought her ears forward. Her first impression had been correct; he was young, only a few tens of megaseconds outside colthood. A pale lilac with a blue-green mane, he had no labour tattoo and had probably only been Blessed quite recently. He nervously stared over her back at where the gryphon was glaring back at them, then relaxed slightly and sank to his belly on the padded floor of the alcove. Gravity reached out with one forehoof and gently touched his cheek. "It's okay, he won't do anything. What's your name?" The stallion flinched at the contact, head snapping around to stare at Gravity. The blue mare narrowed her eyes when the other side of his head came into view. The lilac fur had been shaved off in a neat circular patch that stretched between his horn, eye and jaw. A fresh scar, the width of a foal's hoof, was livid against his pale skin. It looked like someone had removed a circle of flesh from the side of his head, then replaced it. Under this scar were a number of others, all faded and old. There was a shallow groove cut into the base of his horn, right where the jewelled ring for one of the suppression collars might sit. "I'm GZ7011," he said in a low voice. "Have you come to stay with me?" Gravity bit her lip; the stallion's voice contained such a tone of hope that it made the mare's fur stand on end. "I think I'll call you Lilac. Is there nopony else here? What about your parents?" He smiled, his whole face lighting up in pleasure. "Liliac. Lilac, I like that. No, just the rats and rabbits. There was a dog here once; I used to play with him in his cage when the Masters didn't need me. He's gone now. My parents..." His voice tailed off and his smile faded, muzzle wrinkling as he tried to remember. "I don't remember my parents. I suppose I must have had some." "How long have you been here?" Gravity asked, fighting to keep the distress out of her voice. The vision that Fusion had showed her, of Random and her foals in the cage at the Security Hub, filled her mind, making it hard to think clearly. She tried to suppress the thoughts, but without guidance from the Maker they came anyway. How many more like Lilac? How many parents have given up their foals to this? The horror built in her mind, making the room swim. It's not fair! "Three hundred and fifty seven megaseconds," he said proudly. "I read the starting date on my file when the Masters left it on the main screen." Gravity's ears flattened and tears started to well up in her eyes; the stallion was probably less than five hundred megasec old. "I- I see. Well, I'm not sure how long the Masters will let me stay, but I'll be here as long as I can." "Thanks!" he said brightly, ignoring her expression. "Hey, that's odd -- the screen normally only comes on when the Masters are here." Gravity turned her head to glance at what Lilac had seen, then froze, eyes wide. The screen was a big one, almost a whole length square, and produced a very good picture. The mare struggled to understand what she was seeing; there was her sister, for some reason lying on her side, being fed into the maw of the autosurgeon. Around the limp white shape, the starfish array of tentacle arms was in motion, looking for all the world like the whole wall was alive and trying to eat Fusion. One arm, the one tipped with a complex array of smaller limbs, reached down and stroked the white mare on the side of the head. Where it touched, the fur vanished to leave bare skin in a circle delineated by her horn, eye and jaw. Gravity moaned softly, unable to take her eyes off the image of the robot arm as it shaved the fur from the side of Fusion’s head. Unsteadily, she climbed to her hooves, walking towards the screen as if hypnotised. "You're going to be next, after they've cut out your friend's brain," the gryphon said, voice full of malice. "I don't believe you!" Gravity shouted, wheeling on the soldier. "We're doing good work, the Masters would never do that to us." He'd moved a few paces away from the door and stood there, one foreclaw on his autogun, and beak half open in an avian grin. "I heard Salrath talking to your Masters before you arrived. Whatever work you were doing is drawing the attention of the World Court, so the Synod has decided to stop everything, just in case there's an audit." His smile became nasty. "That means no witnesses. Student Korn got quite upset about that, I almost thought I was going to have to restrain him." "But what about the Masters, they know everything!" "They have legal protection. You are an animal to be disposed of at a whim." Gravity's mouth dropped open in shock as the realisation hit her; this creature was telling the truth. She whirled around again, staring in horror at the screen. The view had changed, zooming in to show a close up of her sister's head, now strangely skull-like and ugly without its normal covering of white fur. The camera was obviously on one of the sensor arms; the angle was low enough that she could see the surgical manipulator array. Expanded by the size of the wall screen, the array looked even more like the mouthparts of a giant insect. Two concentric circles of little arms surrounded a central hatch that looked like the beak of an octopus. As the mare watched, the little hatch snapped open to present a small rack filled with metal triangles. At the same time, one of the arms folded inwards to meet it, coming away with one of the slivers of metal. Even in her half-paralysed state, Gravity could recognise a scalpel blade. The mare's gaze focused on her sister's face, attracted by some slight movement. Fusion's big, magenta eye, still surrounded by a layer of fine, white fur, had moved, sluggishly tracking the scalpel equipped arm as it drifted across her line of sight. "No," she whispered, "no, no, no, NO!" voice building to a scream as she realised exactly what was going to happen next. There would be no forgiveness, no returning to the fold of the Master's service. Both of them would be eaten by that machine, the final reward for all her loyalty and her conviction that Fusion was wrong about the Masters. Inside her mind some barrier broke. A lifetime of obedience and absolute certainty that the Masters were right in all things was washed away by the flood of doubt that had been building ever since Fusion had showed her the fate of Random and the corral’s foals. All it left behind was a desperate need to rescue her sister, to fix the terrible thing she'd allowed to happen, a desire powered by the surge of horror that was coursing through her. She tore her gaze from the screen and galloped for the door. "Freeze or you're dead, pony!" The gryphon's shouted order fell on deaf ears as Gravity accelerated towards him. Uncaring about anything, she reached out with her magic to sweep him aside, only to discover that it was like trying to pick an oversized apple out of a soaking tub with her teeth. Her grip seemed to slide off the surface of his still active antimagic defences, flowing around him like water around a pebble in a stream. It did have some effect, causing the soldier to stagger and let go of his gun to avoid falling over. Mind filled with panic, Gravity didn't even try to bring up the more complex patterns required for other magics, and simply put her head down and charged the gryphon. Seeing the soldier sidestep out of her path, the mare ignored him and galloped for the door. Something heavy struck her left side, just in front of the wing joint. A body covered in armour scales landed half on her back, hard talons closing around her throat and right wing root. Gravity staggered, hooves slipping on the smooth floor, and tripped over her own legs to go crashing into the wall of cages. Panicked, the mare thrashed her wings and legs, trying to shed the clawing thing and keep its snapping beak away from her throat. All around her, the animals burst into a cacophony of chittering and screeching, many taking their chance of freedom when the struggling pair broke open their cages. Gravity's horn flared brighter as she tried to use her magic to pull the gryphon away, but she was now embedded in his force field, and every twist she applied to her telekinesis just seemed to slide past the armoured soldier. He still had her by the wingroot, but his grip on her throat had been lost in the tumble; now he sought to regain that hold, using his free foreclaw and beak to try and get through the thoroughly mangled and tangled cages. Lit by the hard violet radiance of Gravity's horn light, the gryphon had a demonic appearance, his mad eyes glittering with rage as he tried to get his beak around her throat. She jerked her head backwards, the hooked tip of his beak snapping shut a hair's breadth from her windpipe. Here the cages saved her life; cascading down from their racks, the sharp edged metal boxes had fallen between the fighters and stopped the gryphon from getting too close. This fragile defence wouldn't last for long; every move the struggling pair made shifted the cages slightly, allowing the soldier that little bit closer. The beak lunged at her again, snapping shut on a tuft of fur at her throat. Taking her chance, Gravity whipped her head down and threw herself forwards, horn aimed for the bare patch of white feathers at the base of the gryphon's neck. He twisted at the last moment and, instead of taking her horn through the throat, the point dug in between his armour harness and back, cutting a bloody groove across the big muscles of his shoulder. Gasping with shock, the gryphon opened his beak and threw himself backwards to get away from that needle-pointed spear of crystal. With the sudden release of his remaining talon from her wingroot, the gryphon tumbled off of Gravity, his paws digging into her belly and making her gasp with the impact. === The breath woofed out of the mare when Gunnulf's rearpaws slammed into her ribcage, but she provided a solid enough platform that he could leap backwards out of the tangled mess. The gryphon's wings beat once, dropping him back on all fours on the other side of the room. There was a pulse of pain from his stabbed shoulder, but adrenaline and a certain amount of fury at being defeated by a pony -- again -- pushed it a long way into the background. With long practiced movements he reached back with one foreclaw, talons closing around the autogun's folded control bar. At his touch the bar popped out, and he used it to pull the gun forwards on its track. Remaining legs splayed wide for stability, he braced himself to prevent a repeat of the first encounter. The visor over the gryphon's eyes, still in place despite the fight, lit with the simple close quarters battle reticule, and Gunnulf jerked the gun down to place the wide circle over the half hidden pony's body. His talons clenched tight on the trigger-- --and something moving invisibly fast slammed into his shoulder, knocking him backwards even as the gun fired, all that carefully designed ammunition expending its energy on a neat half length diameter circle in the ceiling. Gunnulf let out a strangled squawk as something broke in his foreleg, suddenly nerveless talons dropping away from the control bar even as he crashed into the wall of cages behind him. Through a red haze of pain, Gunnulf struggled to get out of the tangled mess of metal bars and broken glass, too preoccupied to even snap instinctively at the rats and rabbits crawling over him while making their own bids for freedom. There was the sound of pony voices raised in argument, one full of desperation, the other full of fear, but he couldn't make out either of them. Finally getting his uninjured foreclaw free, he extended one talon and jabbed it hard into the 'medic' patch at the centre of his chest, just where the big flight muscles were attached to his breastbone. There was an intense taste of sulphur at the back of his mouth, then the pain faded enough that he could think. Shaking his head to clear it, Gunnulf turned his gaze on the two ponies. Raw laughter bubbled up in his throat when he saw them; the blue mare was struggling in a field of lilac magic generated by the young stallion. "Let go of me -- they're going to kill her!" she shouted, floating helplessly a little way off the floor. "You can't go," the stallion said, voice high and nervous, "you were ordered to stay. The Maker will be angry with you if you disobey." The Maker doesn't care about you, my little pony, Gunnulf thought, still giggling. He sat back on his haunches and pulled his autogun forward, twisting the selector from 'burst' to 'full' and dropping the targeting display over Gravity. Bye-bye, the gryphon thought, holding down the trigger. === Korn watched helplessly as the autosurgeon completed its first pass over Fusion, her long pink mane falling in tangled piles underneath the restraint system as the clippers shaved the fur from the side and top of her head. Vanca was still fiddling with the vivisection program, oblivious to the warnings scrolling across the top of his screen. Korn saw them, though, the machine trying to warn its operator that the 'patient' was under severe physiological stress. Not that Korn needs the autosurgeon to tell him that, he thought, fighting the urge to throw up; Fusion's great, gasping breaths were clearly audible as they whistled through her slack jaw. Clenching his eyes shut to break the spell, he looked at his own monitor; it was mostly innocuous status reports, but with a thumbnail video window sitting in one corner. The view wasn't very good -- it was really only designed for video conferencing, not surveillance -- but on it Korn could see the blue servitor staring in open mouthed horror at her own monitor. Then she turned and galloped out of shot. Korn stared at the little image and chewed nervously at the knuckles of one paw, willing the pony to come back into view. Probably staggered off to collapse against a wall, he thought, doing his best not to think about what he'd just done. A few seconds later there was another little movement and the second pony in the room stepped from his alcove, horn glowing brightly. Of course the other servitor would interfere, Korn thought, but will he be able to revive Gravity Resonance? What he'd done was bad enough, but to put the servitor through punishment fugue for it to recover and be vivisected anyway... A struggling Gravity appeared on the screen, held immobile by the other pony's magic. Korn whimpered slightly, his worst fears realised. Failed, he thought, Korn is so sorry-- If he hadn't been staring at the screen he'd have missed it. The blue mare stopped struggling, then dropped lightly to the floor while the stallion collapsed much less gracefully, his magic flicking out. Gravity stood there for a second, not looking at the display, but at the ceiling, seeming to search for something. There was something very strange about her mane and tail, almost as if they were blowing about in some impossible wind. What's she doing? Korn thought, then had a sudden flash of insight. She's looking at us! The little video window flashed a pure, intense violet for a fraction of a second, then went black. An instant later there was a deep, hollow boom, as if a vault door had been slammed somewhere far away. Under Korn's paws the floor shivered slightly.