Our Girl Scootaloo

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit fan-made work of prose. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is the property of Hasbro. Please support the official release.

Scootaloo’s new flight outfit and prosthetic had enabled her to fly much later into the year, and when she practiced acrobatics at the airport on the weekends she often drew a small crowd. The paparazzi who had lost interest a few months after we went public years ago made a re-appearance, and the airport manager let them stay provided they worked his logo into the shots. Her acrobatics also attracted the attention of researchers at NASA who soon inquired about testing.

One day after attempting to race a Cessna 172 and losing to that minivan of an aircraft she came home with a complaint “Dad, is their something wrong with me? I’m a Pegasus, shouldn’t I be able to fly faster than 70 mph?”

“I’m not sure dear, but there is that team at NASA, they might be able to tell us something.”

“Bleh, more research. Don’t I get poked enough on our monthly hospital run?”

I smiled “I think you might want to actually read the letter they sent; they want you to fly for them in a wind tunnel and show off your skills. They're offering to pay quite a bit of money, and that’s to you, not the family.”

“They’re offering to pay me to show off?” She asked with a contemplative look.

“You do know this is the same NASA that launches rockets and flies the fastest planes in the world. If you've ever wanted to go for a ride in one of their research jets, break the sound barrier, pull some serious G’s, these are the people to talk to…”

A week later, Scootaloo was wearing her flight outfit and standing in what looked like a long Plexiglas tube. She gave us the thumbs up with her prosthetic and they started the huge fan in front of her, then had her fly at different speeds while the bar she held onto measured drag and lift. They ran the whole gambit of tests, recorded video of airflow tests using the smoke machine, and setup many different recording devices around the tunnel itself.

Over a lavish lunch she asked one of the lead researchers what they expected to get out of all these tests.

“Well frankly Ms Scootaloo, we want to know how you can fly. There is no question that you can, but at the same time, there is no way aerodynamics alone could ever lift you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m a Pegasus, of course I can fly, why shouldn’t I be able to?”

He seemed unsure if he should keep going, but decided to forge ahead. “It’s a function of your weight and the size of your wings. You are not yet full-grown, and already weigh 210 lbs, yet your wing area is smaller than the world’s biggest birds, the heaviest of which is only 40 lbs and has a 9 ft wingspan. So you are lifting more than 5 times as much weight, and your wing span is only about 4 ft max, and less than half the area.
After lunch we would like you to do some flying for us in one of the vacuum chambers we use to test space suits; we had one specially made to fit you.”

“Well we could hardly ask you to bring your own now could we? Its just a simple pressure suit, air and power come from a tether, but yes, it is a suit for use in vacuum.”

He offered a fist, and she did bro-hooves. “Always wanted to do that,” he smiled.

The test in the vacuum chamber took most of the afternoon. They helped her suit up and get through the air lock, where upon she flew a circuit around the small fiberglass dome as though nothing was different. She couldn’t lift quite as much in the vacuum as outside, but the difference was small, and her flight abilities were otherwise unaffected.

Midway though testing, the researchers got an email from the magnet field study lab across the campus asking who the hell was tampering with their equipment. They were getting wildly fluctuating field strength readings from their sensors in the lab some miles distant. Finally it clicked.

She did and they got on the phone with the mag lab. The readings had returned to normal and they wanted to know what we had done. “The readings are normal now? Okay, watch and tell me if anything happens – Scootaloo, hover for 5 seconds, then land.”
She did so, “It happened again?… For about five seconds?… Okay, drop what you’re doing and get over here now… No I don’t care that the director is on site, bring him too, this is important… Yes, but we can only show you how we’re doing it if you a come right now.”

By the end of the day they had a working concept, and the mag lab scientist who were irate when they arrived soon changed their tune and actually took us all out to dinner that night where they talked excitedly among themselves and drank entirely too much. As the news had spread though the campus, specialists from several different fields had shown up to hear the news first hand.

Scootaloo put up with the techno jargon as long as she could, but finally interrupted one of the nearby researchers ”So I fly by magnetic powers or something?”

The researcher she was talking to reluctantly broke off his conversation and tried to explain. “Somehow you are using the earths magnetic field to fly. Normally that would be impossible because the field is too weak to do much more than turn a compass needle, but you are somehow repulsing the field over an incredibly large area, and thus generating both lift and thrust. We can’t do that, it’s not possible with our understanding of magnetic field theory, but you can and that’s incredibly important. I think we will be seeing more of each other in a few months after we go over the data and construct the necessary sensors.”

She mulled this over “Is that why my wings always hurt if I get too near an MRI?”

“Well yes, any magnetic tool or system would be affected by a field that strong. Have you ever had an MRI?”

“When I was really little, but they had to switch to ultrasound after a year or so because it was starting to hurt my wings and no one could figure out why.”

One of the biologists who had been listening jumped in “Well now we know. When you were designed, someone apparently incorporated EMFR or Elector Magnetic Field Repulsion into you very DNA. And whats more, they figured out how to make a biological system like your body not only tolerate a machine implant, but actually construct one! It would be hard to understate how much we can learn from your biology.”

Scootaloo gave her a hard look and she applogied. “Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but you must have heard about the improvements that have already happened in genetic therapy?” She got a blank look from all of us. “You mean you didn't know? The trials they've been running at hospitals just in the US have already had incredible results! Some studies have reported 95% cure rates against previously untreatable diseases, and they are still pulling more information from your DNA in the laboratory. I know some drug companies are trying to keep this quiet because a cure for a disease can only be sold once, but even they can't bottle up something this extraordinary.”

“You mean that our daughter's DNA is resulting in research breakthroughs?” I asked.

“Yes, there's been a furor in all the medical journals for years now; many hundreds of people already owe you their lives, Scootaloo. And as we get a better handle on how your DNA was built we can expect even more breakthroughs.” She and her fellow researcher turned back to the technical conversation leaving us all in stunned silence.

Some inquires around the hospital soon confirmed the story as well as bringing to light a revelation about her origin. It seemed that the video of her arrival that night had been analyzed in every conceivable way, and eventually, what had appeared as random patterns of distortion flashing though the image had been cleaned up into pictures. We setup a meeting with one of the government code breaking specialists who had solved the problem.

“You see in the original there are theses blips every so often, and they don't look like much, but if you pull them out and run them back to back, you get 30 seconds of video over the many hours the camera was left on. Run that through some of the best description experts in the world and you get this:”

A dingy rooftop appeared with the camera angle above and looking down across the equally depressing city scape. As we watched, a homeless person in worn clothes flashed by into his crude hut built of leftover garbage on the roof top, the sun set and the stars wheeled by absurdly fast, outlined by the sky scrappers in the distance.

“Yes, it covers about the same length of time we saw on our side, but keep watching.”

As he said it a bright rainbow filly came tumbling into view. We all looked at each other.

As the video ran out we saw the baby dash tumble out onto the canopy of rags. The homeless man flashed out, seemed to inspect her and disappeared with her.

He looked at her seriously. “We don't know. This is the last frame that shows her in the video.”

A still shot held on the screen; a glimpse of Rainbow Dash inside a cardboard box in which the man had written in simple pen 'Give to good home'.

“Settle down Ms Scootaloo, its not that simple. You may have noticed the skyline looks familiar? It should.” He ran the video back “This is what Detroit looked like at about the same time you were found – some of the distant sky scrapers and the star patterns helped us nail down the time – but there’s a problem. See these street signs visible in the edge of the video? Those streets never looked like this. In the 1980's the mayor took on this part of the city as a pet project, and there was never this level of grime, of abandoned buildings and slums. They re-vamped all of it, and its still a thriving district even today. This is Detroit, but in our world, this never happened.”

He let that sink in before continuing “We think what we have here is a view into an alternate reality, the first concrete proof that they really exist. Some in the physics community are trying to lean what they can from this, but its rough going with only a single digital video to study. What we can say with some certainty is that Ms Scootaloo is not one of a kind: rather she is a member of a species, and that what we thought was just a children's cartoon has some basis in fact.”

Kevin spoke up “But that's ridiculous isn't it? Some of the things the show portrays are clearly not possible...”

“Not in our world at least, but it seems obvious this world, however distorted in the cartoon, is real. And yes we have interviewed the creators of the show extensively. While they reported an unusually sharp and shared creative focus and dreams of this world, we haven't been able to explain how they glimpsed it, or why.”

Scootaloo was thinking hard “But if I got here, does that mean someone will come looking for me?”

“We don't know Ms Scootaloo, just as we don't know why both you and Rainbow arrived so young and through a time distortion. We have to admit the possibility though. Over the years we have pored over the data from that night recorded by satellites, seismographs, any data we could find looking for anything out of the ordinary. We didn't find much, but the physicists are working on what we have.”

Throughout it all, middle school proceeded, but with everything else she had going on her grades started to slip, and for the first time in years we had to cancel her allowance for poor academics. We both spent more time tutoring her and helping with her homework, but she still had trouble focusing.

It soon turned out that some of the reasons stemmed from issues we should have been expecting. While getting out her notes one evening she dropped her binder, and as Kevin helped her pick up he found a hand written note adorned with hearts: “Brad, meet me after class behind the storage shed. Your Scoot”

We sat down and ran through the birds and the bees again using the same human anatomy text book we had used two years ago.

“Come on dad, I already know this stuff. I'm old enough to make decisions for myself!”

“And you had no plans to? Really?” She went beet red again as I continued “Dear, if your system is anything like a teen girl, then your body is telling you to pounce anything that looks good,” I gave Kevin a significant look.

I gave Kevin a smug look as he took his seat again. “And that's okay. We all have to learn about love and sex in our own time, but we're going to help you do so in a safe, smart way.”
I thought for a moment “You'll be eligible for drivers ed in a few years; how would that class go if on day one, first time you'd ever seen a car, the instructor thew a sheet over your head, turned out the lights, and told you to drive a car on the freeway?”

That got a small snicker and seemed to break the tension. “Now first off, you are already on hormonal birth control to help with your period, but you can forget to take those pills, goodness knows,” I looked at Kevin and he grimaced “so I think we should talk to your gynecologist about getting you an IUD.”

“Hail to thee, the IUD, the little plastic pal who lives inside of me!” we sang together.

Kevin looked at her trying to sink into the floor and said seriously “Rule one about sex: If you can't talk about something with your partner, you have no business doing it. Mature adults can talk about what they want. If you or your partner can't, then you're not ready.”

“We can talk to Mary about an IUD when we see her again this weekend. In the mean time, how many condoms do you have?”

She turned red again, but finally ventured “He said he was going to get a box from the store. He said he had to wait until his parents drove out of town for shopping so no one would recognize him.”

“Hmm. Points for intent if not for brains. Lets get out your computer, we can use your emergency credit card to get them online.” She dug out her tablet while I intoned “search for 'rip and roll dot com'.”

We soon had her setup with a multi pack of 100 for less than 50 cents apiece, including a few fruit flavored ones, and a glow in the dark pack.

“Why would anyone ever need a fruit flavored... Oh!” She said and turned red again.

“There, that order should be here in a couple of days, and you should give a few out to any friends who might need them. No one deserves to be faced with the choice between teen pregnancy and abortion just because they couldn't find birth control.”

“Indeed” Kevin intoned “And we should also tell you what most girls experience their first time; a short and unsatisfying time they get little out of.”

She looked more shocked by this then anything yet “But, its supposed to be the best thing about...”

“Yes it is, and it can be” Kevin answered “but you need to know what you want, and have the openness to ask for it. Have you ever masturbated?”

"I'm serious. You won't know what you like until you experiment with yourself, and its a good low pressure way to figure out what you like and what you don't." Then to me; "Search Amazon for vibrators, they usually have a good selection. $50 should be enough to get some nice ones."

In a few short sentences, Kevin explained the very basic types, and after we left Scootaloo alone with the laptop for a few moments, we saw her entering the credit card number, redder than ever. "That should give you something to work with. The websites will send the packages in your name, so just keep an eye on the mail and you should have everything before the weekend. I know this is an uncomfortable subject to talk about, but isn't this a lot easier than trying to break the news to us that you're pregnant or caught a horrible STD?"

We smiled, and hugged her. "We love you Scootaloo, and we don't want to see you get hurt."

As she turned to get back to her homework, Kevin spoke up again “We're not done quite yet. We also need to have the drug talk soon, and I want you to have this read before we do.” He produced a green book labeled 'The Consumers Union Report: Licit and Illicit Drugs' “You can also read it on your computer if you don't want to lug the hard copy around – just search the title, the entire text of the book is available free online. This is a good starting point to learn the truth about different drugs – it was written by the same people who write Consumer Reports, and because it didn't toe the line that all drugs are evil, it only ever got one edition. Its a bit out of date, being from 1972, but it still covers what all the major drugs do, where they came from, and how they got to be legal or illegal. By this time next week I want you to have read part one, 'The Opiates: Heroin, Morphine, Opium, and Methadone' so we can talk about it.”

She took the book hesitantly “Uh Dad, I don't like drugs, and I don't have anything to do with them, just like the DARE officer told us to. Do I still need to read this?”

“And you believed everything DARE taught you?” Kevin looked a little disappointed “We need to have a talk about how to evaluate a message based on the motives of the person delivering it.” He looked at her again “But yes, you do need to read it. Even if you don't have any interest now, that could change, and I guarantee some of your friends will at least try different drugs as they get older. Knowing what you're doing lets you know the difference between a harmless drug and one that might get you hooked for life in under 10 doses.”

She nodded, put the book in her school bag, and we got back to helping with her algebra and trigonometry. It wasn't an easy conversation to have, but she was our daughter, and we both felt better knowing she could make smart choices when we weren’t around to help.

And she didn't need to know how much Kevin and I cried that night about our baby girl growing up.

It took time, but her grades gradually improved, and as the weather warmed we made plans to take her and some friends to Oshkosh in July to see new airplanes and hopefully do some acrobatic flying.

The NASA team invited her in a couple more times, and by April they held a press conference detailing their work, with Scootaloo sitting in pride of place next to the research team. Their prototype lifter was the size of a serving platter but could lift 50 lbs, and they were already talking about scaling the design up for launching orbital payloads at a fraction of current costs. She gave a short speech congratulating them on their work, and publicly revealed the information about Rainbow Dash in an alternate Detroit. This reignited public speculation for another few months and while the information was not explicitly classified, we did get an irritable phone call from someone at the DOD suggesting we keep such information to ourselves in future.

Spring also saw the FDA approve a number of genetic treatments and medications derived from Scootaloo's DNA. Much as finding a working 1930's tube radio would have revolutionized the theory of electronics in 1790, so Scootaloo's DNA had been reverse engineered into cures for all manner of diseases. Much more was still in the works, and her body's ability to build complex electronics, and apparently batteries was still poorly understood, but because of her cooperation, many lives had already been saved.
In June there was a press conference where the survivors stood and publicly thanked Scootaloo for saving them, and she hugged them while we all cried. We had to keep a box by the door after that for all the cards and letters from loved ones who were alive today because of our daughter, and who wrote in personally to thank her. We always kept a few of the children's crayon drawn thank you notes on the fridge, and one memorable letter from a five year old still stays with me:

“Dear Ms Scootaloo thank you for save my life. I had cancer and was going to die but now Mommy says I can go home. I drew this picture of you playing in a field with angels.”

Summer soon arrived, and we rented two Cessna 172's to fly the family and 5 friends out to Oshkosh for a week. I had just passed my own IFR license, and good thing too as we flew though some weather to get there, but with myself and three teen girls in one plane and Scootaloo at the controls of the other plane with Kevin and two other schoolmates we all made the trip out in less than a day.
While Scootaloo warmed up for an acrobatic demonstration with a smoke trail, I got to look through the offerings and found myself drawn to the Cozy and Velocity canard designs with their slick styling and +200 mph speeds. I had to drag Kevin over, and after showing him the designs he seemed interested.

“Jayne these things cost 40 to 90 thousand dollars! I think they're cool too, but we could never afford that.”

“I know the new ones cost that, but you can find just the airplane with no engine and instruments for 12 thousand. I could do the engine install with Scootaloo and put in the instruments and have a plane we could all use as a family. And with used parts I bet we could do it for less than the price of a new car.”

He thought about it “Lets talk tonight at the hotel. The budget is tight, but if we got a loan as for a new car, I could see this working...”

“Oh thank you!” And I kissed him in front of everyone, not even caring who might see.

That afternoon we all watched as Scootaloo did her acrobatic performance to a pounding selection from her music collection. All her friends cheered and held up a banner proclamation 'Scootaloo Rocks!'

Later in the week, just as her friends were getting bored, Scootaloo wrangled a deal to get them all rides in one companies acrobatic aircraft. Of the six of them, only she and Christina managed to hold onto their lunch, and the two of them ribbed the others about it all they way home.

Our girl Scootaloo 1 of 3

by Cozy Mark IV

Ch 5: Our Girl is Growing Up