//------------------------------// // Rock Farming // Story: The View Over Atlantis // by Zobeid //------------------------------// As they continued their conversation, Katrina had assured Trixie that it was not necessary for her to join The Golden Dawn as an initiate. Rather, Trixie would work under Lord Peter as a paid consultant. (“Does that make you the world’s only consulting unicorn?” Florence had joked, but Trixie didn’t understand the reference.) Whatever doubts Trixie may have had about her mission, she was being well compensated in gold for her time and efforts. Before the end of the next day, Trixie found herself in the scenic — surprisingly mountainous — Lake District of Cumbria. Ivan had brought her to a farm just a short ways outside the market town of Keswick. The Low Nest Farm, as it was somewhat puzzlingly named, featured a bed-and-breakfast inn which, Ivan explained, had become a temporary headquarters to the Castlerigg project. As they arrived he waved a hand indicating a nearby country lane, and said, “There is Castle Lane, and it’s only a short walk up to the stone circle. We’ll get you settled in here tonight, and then I can show you around the site in the morning.” Upon entering the farmhouse, Ivan led Trixie to the office where he found the manager, a pear-shaped, gray-haired lady. Upon catching sight of Trixie she squealed, “Oh how adorable!” Before Trixie could respond or say anything, the woman had begun stroking her mane as she cooed, “You’re a sweetie! Yes you are. What a good girl!” Aghast, eyes wide, Trixie ducked her head and stepped back. “Trixie is not a dog!” she sputtered. The woman froze for a moment, hand still suspended in the air, as she realized her mistake. She staggered back, mortified, and stammered, “I’m sorry! I just… It’s force of habit, really. I didn’t mean… Oh, I’m so very sorry!” Trixie glared daggers at her while Ivan put a hand on her withers and tried to smooth things over. To the woman he said, “I’m sure you didn’t mean any disrespect. Mildred, this is the expert I told you about: Trixie Lulamoon, or the Great And Powerful Trixie as she is known in her profession. Trixie, this is Mildred; she’s the manager of the bed-and-breakfast facility. Mildred said, “Miss Trixie, once again I am so sorry. I just haven’t met a pony before. Not face-to-face, I mean. I’ve got a guest room prepared for you, and I’ll do everything I can to make your stay here comfortable.” She forced a nervous smile. Trixie’s glare had dimmed to a mere smolder. “Trixie will let you know if there is anything she requires.” “Of course, of course! We also have a utility kitchen you can use, and a lounge with local guide books and maps. Breakfast is served in the dining room from 8:15 to 9.” “Thank you!” said Trixie, although she tossed her head in the same dismissive manner that she’d seen from snooty Canterlot unicorns. It wouldn’t do for Mildred to think her behavior was completely forgiven. Mildred led Trixie to her room, which had a television and some sort of electric coffee maker (neither of which Trixie had any idea how to operate), sofa, double bed, and a picture window. Trixie stood up on her hind legs, bracing her front hooves on the window sill as she gazed at the open fields and a mountain in the distance. Mildred noticed and said, “That mountain is Blencathra, although everyone called it Saddleback when I was small.” “Saddleback…” Trixie echoed, as her eyes traced the mountain’s silhouette. “I can see that. Why did they change it?” “Blencathra was the original old Cumbrian name for it. It sounds more romantic, I suppose. It translates roughly as: bare mountain shaped like a chair. Ah well, it’s something to sit on either way.” Trixie’s eyes went wide for a moment and then she blushed and muttered to herself, “yeah… because humans sit on saddles.” “What was that, dearie?” “uhh… Nothing! Trixie was merely practicing a cantrip. It is nothing that need concern you.” Mildred took the hint and left Trixie to unpack her belongings and settle in. Looking around the room, she noticed a vinyl mat in one corner with a pair of stainless steel bowls, empty and clean. Were those dog bowls? Grumbling, she opened her steamer trunk and levitated her hat and cape onto the oversized (or really, human-sized) bed. A strange object on the pillow caught her eye. She levitated it, bringing it over for a closer look. It seemed to be a sheet of tough, thick, pale material knotted at either end to resemble the shape of a bone. Trixie sniffed it and frowned. She wasn’t sure what it was made of, but it looked an awful lot like a chew toy for dogs. With a snort of disgust, she tossed it into one of the steel bowls. “TRIXIE IS NOT A DOG!” she yelled, on the off chance that Mildred was still somewhere within earshot. After unpacking, she ventured out to the lounge. She noticed several plaques on the wall, but they were mounted too high up for her to easily read. Curiosity getting the better of her, she lit her horn with magic, plucked a plaque off the wall and floated it down to her eye level. “Kennel Club”, she read aloud. “Open For Dogs Award, 2031. Well, that explains a few things.” Trixie floated the plaque up to its place on the wall, but after several attempts to get it hooked on the nail she decided it wasn’t worth the effort, and she laid it flat on the table. There she turned her attention, and her magical grasp, to some of the guide books. Flipping through them, she was struck by the quality of the paper and printing. Coated paper and full-color illustrations and photographs were rare in Equestria. There were plenty of photos of nearby hills and valleys, and the quaint buildings of nearby Keswick, along with a color map and descriptions of various activities and tourist attractions. There was a photograph of the Castlerigg Stone Circle, which Trixie instantly recognized from the rendering she’d seen before on Ivan’s computer. In the photo, irregular stones cast their shadows onto a smooth carpet of green grass. The structure was unlike anything she’d seen in Equestria, despite her wide travels. She had barely started reading about it when Ivan came in, followed by a younger man, notable for his thin build, as well as his round-lensed glasses and bow tie. His eyes locked onto Trixie. Ivan said, “Smithers, this is the newest member of our little team, our expert on unicorn magic, Trixie Lulamoon, also known as The Great and Powerful Trixie. Trixie, this is Smithers, our minder from the National Trust. He’s here to make sure that we don’t move so much as a spoonful of dirt without approvals signed and certified in triplicate.” Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “National Trust? I don’t understand.” The young man sighed and explained, “Firstly, my name is Andrew Smith. Ivan has taken to calling me Smithers, I assume on the theory that it would annoy me.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “The National Trust for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty is responsible for protecting and preserving many historic sites, including the Castlerigg Stone Circle. And I have been, sadly, assigned to watch over the ignorant, blundering destruction of Castlerigg.” Trixie blinked and glanced questioningly toward Ivan, who shook his head and retorted, “We’re not the Taliban, Smithers. We didn’t come here to dynamite England’s historic heritage.” “Destruction is destruction, regardless of the superstition used to rationalize it.” Smithers looked to Trixie and said, “I’m sure it means nothing to you, miss unicorn, since this isn’t your country or even your world. I can assure you, though, that the National Trust would never allow this folly to proceed under remotely normal circumstances. Now apparently the higher-ups have been convinced — I have no idea how — that our situation is so dire and so desperate that we must gamble turning over our national treasures to these…” he glanced at Ivan, “…these charlatans, on the theory that they can somehow hold back The Barrier.” As he caught his breath, Trixie imagined he must have been waiting some while to deliver that little speech, and perhaps even had rehearsed it. It was a pity he couldn’t deliver it to someone who actually made decisions about such matters. Well, it wasn’t Trixie’s concern. She asked, pointedly, “But they do, in fact, have permission to restore the stone circle, yes?” Smithers ground his teeth as he replied with a grudging, “Yes. If you can call it restoration. That doesn’t mean you have carte blanche. I’ll be here to observe what is done and make sure the damage is kept to a minimum. If things get out of hand, I won’t hesitate to pull the plug on this ridiculous project.” Trixie shrugged dismissively. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is here only as a consultant, to monitor the ebb and flow of magical energies, and will be happy to let you and Ivan work out other matters between yourselves.” Smithers took off his glasses for a moment, rubbed his eyes and muttered, “magical energies…” Then he replaced them and said, “I’m sorry if I come on a bit strong with my opinions, Miss Trixie. I do take my job seriously, but I’ll not let my dim view of this enterprise color my thoughts toward you. In fact, you’re the first unicorn from Equestria proper that I’ve met. I hope we may find some free time to chat and satisfy my curiosity.” “Perhaps,” she replied brusquely. “However, Trixie is tired from her travels and wishes to rest. Begone with you until morning!” She lifted a hoof and waggled it at him, as if shooing him away. Smithers frowned. “I have a room here too, actually.” She huffed and said, “Trixie meant that she will be resting in her room and does not want to be disturbed.” Then she stomped off to her room and slammed the door. After a few moments the door opened, and two steel bowls and a rawhide chew toy, glowing slightly with purple magic, came flying out of the room before the door slammed again. Smithers rubbed his elbow and commented, “Not too keen on making friends, is she?” “Oh, just give her some time.” When morning came, Trixie went to join the others for their morning meal, but found herself confronted by a Full English Breakfast. She berated the staff until they came up with a vegetarian alternative (plus eggs). However, Ivan couldn’t resist explaining how black pudding was made, after which Trixie found her appetite badly impaired. When they’d finished up, Smithers said, “If you’re driving up to the site this morning, I’d like to come along.” Ivan answered, “I’m going to show Trixie around it, but we’ll walk.” He turned to Trixie and added, “We’re not hauling any gear up there, and it’s less than a mile. It should make for a pleasant morning stroll.” Departing on foot from the farm, they walked alongside a short stretch of two-lane highway before turning onto Castle Lane, a narrow, paved road bordered by rock fences. As they walked, Ivan pointed out various aspects and features of their natural surroundings. “As you can see, Castlerigg is a sort of plateau with a wide open view of the mountains all around. It’s no wonder that the builders put their stone circle here. It’s a spectacular natural location for an outdoors meeting place.” He pointed at the horizon, working his way around. “That biggest mountain is Skiddaw. There’s Blencathra, Helvellyn, and there’s Grasmoor. These are some of the highest peaks in Cumbria. Skiddaw is the fourth highest mountain in England.” Trixie was quite sure she’d never remember those odd, exotic-sounding names — with the possible exception of Blencathra, AKA Saddleback. She couldn’t un-see that mountain’s suggestive profile since the lady at the farmhouse had pointed it out. As they passed a wide spot in the lane, Ivan turned to Smithers and said, “This is where the Roman camp was. That farmhouse just ahead is roughly at the center of it. So, we’re already within the camp’s boundary, I think.” Smithers looked around in puzzlement. “The Roman camp you told me about before? I don’t see anything.” Trixie looked around too, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary: only very short green grass and some sheep in the distance. “What is a Roman camp?” she wondered. Ivan moved closer to her and explained, “The Romans had one of the great empires of history. They partially conquered the British Isles. Cumbria was near the northern extent of the area they controlled. So, they set up a fort, or a marching camp as it were, on this ridge to try and pacify the natives. I’m convinced this camp is what Castlerigg was named for. Rigg is an old word for ridge, so castle ridge would be the ridge where the Romans had their fortress — although it was more of a temporary structure than a castle as such.” “Is that why I don’t see any walls?” He nodded. “That, and because the Romans were here almost two thousand years ago. The camp site was long buried and forgotten, nothing left but plowed fields until an archaeological survey turned it up. They were actually looking for a long-rumored second stone circle, but they stumbled on the camp’s boundary ditch instead.” Trixie looked around again at the green fields and sheep grazing, and tried to imagine the passage of two thousand years. The Roman camp would have been here at roughly the time of first Hearth Warming of legend and the founding of Equestria, and before the princesses were born. Since crossing the Barrier, Trixie’s overwhelming impressions had been of advanced human technology and the newness of everything. Now she suddenly realized this was an old world, one with much history — perhaps more history than her own. She asked, “Did the Romans build the stone circle too?” Both men chuckled, and Ivan answered, “Oh good heavens no! The stone circle was already a three thousand year old ruin by the time the Romans showed up.” Trixie was so flabbergasted by that assertion that she stopped walking for a few moments, then had to break into a trot to catch up. Meanwhile, Ivan gestured toward the road and said, “The stone circle isn’t too far ahead; it’s in a field to the right.” Soon Trixie could see that the field where the stone circle lay was enclosed in a rock fence with an opening at the corner where they could enter. As they approached the entrance, her eyes went wide and she gasped, and she yelled, “LOOK OUT! STOP!” Both men jumped, startled, and looked around in bewilderment. Trixie trotted forward a few steps and pointed with a fore hoof. “Ivan, there’s a pit! You were about to walk right into it.” Both men looked where Trixie pointed, still blinking with confusion. Smithers said, “There’s no pit. It’s just some stripes painted on the ground. They were here before, but I never knew why.” Trixie trotted up to the entrance, still staring at the ground. “You can’t see it? This must be some sort of magical trap. Somepony doesn’t want us here.” “It’s a cattle guard,” Ivan clarified. “To a cow it looks like some sort of slots or holes that their feet might get trapped in, so they instinctively avoid stepping on it. Keeps them from getting out in the lane, you know.” Trixie edged closer to the stripes and sniffed at them, then carefully stretched out a front foot to touch the road surface. She dragged her hoof across the paint, then scooted back. “What sorcery is this? I didn’t think humans had illusions!” She glared at the road, and her horn flared with magic. Her purple aura engulfed the surface as Trixie yelled, “WYSIWYG!” In an instant the magic flashed and then dissipated, but without any obvious effect. Trixie glared at the stripes and muttered, “That should have broken any illusion or transformation.” Ivan laughed out loud, too overcome with mirth to answer at once. The sight of the Great and Powerful Trixie, Most Magical Unicorn in All of Equestria, stymied by painted stripes on a road was too much for him. Meanwhile Smithers shook his head and said, “It looks like paint to me. I wonder why it looks different to Trixie?” Getting his mirth under control, Ivan explained, “Ahah! Well, I think it has something to do with the way cow — and I guess pony — eyes work. They have better night vision, for example, but they may not see the subtle distinctions of color and contrast that we do.” Trixie scowled and her tail swished with frustration. Ivan grinned and added, “Trixie, supposing I painted a doorway on a wall, do you think you’d walk into it?” “Trixie would never fall for that old trick!” the unicorn retorted. Ivan guffawed. “Everything must look like a cartoon to you!” Trixie glared at him. Smithers scratched his chin and mused, “I wonder why I’ve never heard about this from newfoals? You’d think they’d say something about vision changes. Maybe the conversion process helps them adapt, so they don’t even notice it?” He walked on across. Ivan started to follow, but then glanced down at Trixie and offered, “Would you like for me to carry you over it?” “NO! No, that won’t be necessary. Trixie can manage.” She reached forward a hoof onto the painted area, as though double-checking to make sure it really was a solid surface, then she scurried across. She looked back over her withers and released the breath she’d been holding. “There! Let us proceed, shall we?” They walked out into the field, onto the short-cropped grass, among the stones and a scattering of orange survey markers. The stones were rough, irregular, some tall and some short, leaning in different directions. Ivan sat down on one of the shorter stones as if it were a stool. Trixie walked around, sniffed at a few of them, then came back to Ivan and said, “They’re rocks. Trixie sees nothing magical about them.” “Oh…” Ivan scratched his chin. “Nothing, really?” “Nothing. They look like they could be random stones turned up by a plow.” She glanced at a pair of tall standing stones and amended, “A giant plow, that is.” Ivan quirked a mischievous smile and said, “Count them!” Trixie cocked her head questioningly. “Go on,” he urged her, “humor me! Walk around the circle and see how many stones you count!” “Very well.” She began walking around the circle, slowly, carefully counting as she went. Upon making her way back to Ivan, she told him, “I count forty three stones.” Still wearing his enigmatic smile, he nodded and said, “Now do it again! Count them a second time, just as before!” “Is there a point to this?” she asked. Not getting any satisfactory answer, she grumbled and walked around the circle again. When she came back to Ivan, she blinked. “Did you move?” He shook his head, his grin only growing wider. She glanced around the circle and frowned. “I counted forty one that time. I must have missed a couple.” “According to local legend, it’s impossible to count the stones of Castlerigg. You’ll get a different number every time you try.” Trixie stared at Ivan for a moment. “That’s it? Is that supposed to convince me that there’s some kind of enchantment here?” Smithers said, “Ivan is pulling your leg. The National Trust’s official count of the stones is forty. However, the builders originally secured the standing stones around their bases with smaller packing stones, some of which have been turned up and are now visible. Thus, the number you get depends on how many of the small ones you count. Oh, and there’s also an outlier stone about ninety meters…” he looked around and pointed, “…that-a-way, which may or may not have once been part of the circle. In any event, there’s nothing supernatural about it.” Ivan shot a dark look at Smithers. “Now you’re just taking all the fun out of things.” Smithers retorted, “Yes, facts and reason do tend to put a damper on your fairy tales.” Trixie sat down on her haunches and gazed toward the horizon, noticing how sun and clouds cast mottled shadows onto the mountains and valleys below. The view was serenely beautiful, though eerie. Clouds did not move that way in Equestria. Her companions were likewise quiet. “So…” Trixie eventually broke the silence. “I do not sense any magic: only the aching void that I’ve felt ever since entering your world.” Smithers said, “Aching void? How can a void ache?” Trixie narrowed her eyes at him. “Aside from a hollow tooth… Have you ever had a headache?” Ivan snerked at that, stifling a giggle, but in a moment turned serious. “I was hoping you’d detect something right up front, give us some kind of reading to work with.” Smithers said, “I suppose calling off the whole thing now would be too much to ask?” “That’s not going to happen,” Ivan protested. “This is disappointing, but what really matters isn’t whether we have magic at the beginning, but whether we have magic when we’re done. And besides that, Trixie’s only just arrived here. It’s hardly fair to expect her to saunter around the stones for five minutes and then declare victory. It’s a subtle thing. We’re in uncharted territory; it’s going to take some time to figure out.” Trixie sighed. “I suppose I will be staying at the Low Nest Farm for a while.” Ivan nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. You should become intimately familiar with this stone circle, and I’d suggest exploring the surrounding area as well. Get a feel for the land, you know? The circle exists in harmony with its environment, and you can’t understand it without context.” Trixie muttered, “Maybe you should have gotten an earth pony. They’re supposed to be more attuned to the land. Unicorns draw our magic from the moon and stars, not from soil and rocks.” Ivan rubbed his forehead. “You might have a point there. But then again, it’s not that simple. We know that a lot of these stones have astronomical alignments. According to Thom, the people who built these circles were adept mathematicians and astronomers. The circles could be used like a calendar to mark the seasons, and to predict eclipses on a 19-year cycle. That’s what Katrina meant when she said that magic flowed between the earth and sky.” “Who is Tom?” Trixie wondered. “Alexander Thom: a Scottish engineer who got started trying to figure out how the ancients moved huge stones around. He became one of the first to perform a thorough, systematic study of megalithic monuments and stone circles, and surveyed something like five hundred of them.” “Five hundred! I had no idea there were so many. We’re not going to rebuild them all, are we?” “Haha! I certainly hope not. Most of them were much smaller than Castlerigg. The average circle has a dozen stones. So, I think we can safely ignore those. Katrina is convinced — and I pray she’s right — that we only need to rebuild a few of the biggest ones. Stonehenge is critical, of course. And probably Avebury. We get those working, then we should see some results.” He glanced toward Smithers, who had by this time wandered some distance away. Then Ivan leaned closer to Trixie and added, in a softer voice, “Actually, we’ll never get permission to lay a finger on Stonehenge unless we get some kind of results here at Castlerigg first.” While Trixie pondered that, Ivan reached over and rested his hand lightly upon her mane, and said, “Anyhow, I suggest thinking of this as a paid vacation! The Lake District used to be quite a tourist trap, before the economy fell apart — and before the Emergence. I think they still have market days down in Keswick. You can see the sights, relax and enjoy yourself, and I’ll call you back up here after we’ve moved some things around. Does that sound all right?” Trixie nodded. “I suppose it does. When will you start moving things around?” “The surveying and planning is done. I expect to bring in a crew with some JCBs before the end of the day, and break ground tomorrow.” Trixie spent much of her day trying to follow Ivan’s advice, wandering around the small town of Keswick. At first she thought it would be a lonely exercise, but the humans she met were uniformly friendly and curious about her, and she was repeatedly questioned about Equestria, about magic, and about conversion — although she didn’t know too much about the latter subject. Trixie encountered no ponies, in striking contrast to New York where newfoals had become a common sight. Since North America was being actively consumed by the Barrier, all the crash efforts at mass conversion were taking place there. A bit of discussion revealed that Conversion Bureaus were operating in the major cities of the UK, but the process hadn’t taken off yet. Aside from medical cases, there was little sense of urgency, and it seemed most of the population was inclined to wait and see. Despite the well-maintained appearance of the town, Trixie noticed how many shops along the storefront were empty. The only newspaper in town was a thin local publication. She reflected that she should keep up with the news better, and she really needed to learn to use the television in her room. In the evening Trixie met Ivan back at the farmhouse, and she asked how things were coming along at the circle. “Not bad, not bad!” he responded. “My crew arrived and we got the machinery unloaded. We’re going to start working on the henge — the earthworks, that is — tomorrow morning. We’ll get to moving stones later. Oh, this is exciting! There’s nothing like that sense of anticipation when all the planning is done, and you’re about to start moving dirt!” Trixie narrowed her eyes. “Yes, exciting.” Ivan smirked at her lack of enthusiasm. “All right then, how was your day?” “My day was pleasant enough. I even found this amazing candy in town.” Her horn glowed as she levitated a half-empty bag of colorful sweets. She grinned as a blue one floated out of the bag. “Look! They’re shaped like tiny, transparent bears.” Sitting on her haunches, she pinched the bear between her front hooves and glared at it. “So, we meet again — but this time the advantage is mine!” Then she bit down on it’s head. She growled as she pulled, stretching the rubbery confection. After a few moments the bear came apart, and she chewed briefly and swallowed. “Ha-ha! Vanquished by the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Ivan chuckled, pleased to see her acting silly and having fun for a change. He watched as she popped the rest of the bear into her mouth and chewed on it. His smile faded, though, and he scratched his forehead. Then he ventured, “Um, Trixie… I’m not sure if you are aware what those are made from?” Trixie blinked? She swallowed and glanced at the bag, dubiously. “I hadn’t thought about it. Some sort of marshmallow, I suppose?” She twirled the bag around in her magical aura and squinted at the label on the back. “corn syrup… sugar… hmm… What is ‘beef gelatin’?” Ivan sucked in his breath with a hiss, and scratched the back of his head. “Oooh, that. Maybe it’s better you don’t know.” She glanced up at him. “Really, now. Trixie is not a child.” He fidgeted a little and muttered, “No, I suppose you’re not.” Then he leaned down and whispered a few words in her ear. Trixie’s eyes went wide. The glow of her horn flickered and died, dropping the bag on the floor, and she brought her hooves to her mouth and heaved. She staggered on three feet, still holding one hoof at her mouth as she struggled to keep down her gorge. “Trixie? Are you alright?” She moved her hoof in a gesture to forestall him, while she closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed, then said, “No… No, just… please no! Tell me that was some kind of horrible joke?” Ivan bit his lip and shook his head. “Fraid not.” “Bleaaauh! Why would anypony…?” She sat down again, rubbed her eyes with her foreleg, and then said, “Ivan? I want to go home.” “What?” “I don’t think I can take any more of this. I don’t care about the money. I’m sick of… everything. I’m sick of not having any other ponies around, and clouds and the sun and moon moving by themselves, and not knowing how anything works, and illusionary pit traps, and not even being able to buy a bag of candy — for Celestia’s sake — without it turning into… into… a horror story.” Ivan crouched beside her and stroked her mane. “I’m so sorry. If you really feel that way, I’ll call Lord Peter in the morning and have a car sent to pick you up.” “I… I’d like that, thank you! I don’t feel like I’m of any use here anyway.” “It’s all right. I got a text message from Abdel today. He’s sending over another adept to try and scry the circle. Maybe she’ll have better luck.” Trixie’s ears perked up. “Oh, he found another unicorn?” “He only sent me a very terse message. Does the name Moondancer ring any bells?” Trixie’s eyes lit up. “I knew a Moondancer in school. I wonder if it’s her? I’d enjoy seeing her again. When is she arriving?” “Tomorrow before noon.” “Well… Perhaps I was too hasty in wanting to leave. An assistant — or simply another pony around — might make everything easier for me to tolerate. Yes. I shall get a good night’s sleep, and consult with Moondancer tomorrow.” “There you go, that’s the spirit. And, um… I’m sorry about the gummi bears too. A lot of humans are disgusted too, when they find out what they’re made of. I’ll try to give you better warnings about things like that.” “Hmm, yes. If you want to make it up to me, do you suppose you could show me how to operate the television in my room tonight?” “I’d be very pleased to do that for you, Miss Trixie. We should see about getting you a mobile as well, if you decide to stay.” After much coaching from Ivan, Trixie started getting the hang of the television. With her magic she levitated both the remote control and a pencil, using the pencil’s eraser end to push the buttons. She flipped through the channels. flip The young man's hair was unkempt, his clothes of good quality, though loose-fitting, and his eyes burned with enthusiasm.  "Dudes, I spent my whole life searching for the best currents, and the most righteous clouds.  Goin' high!" The scene changed to a pegasus with similar mane-style and expression.  The pegasus flared his wings.  "Dudes!  Now I can hang glide on my way to work!  And work is making weather!  How cool is that?" flip “…speculation that a severe doom-and-gloom statement was upcoming from authorities of the European Central Bank…” flip Tiny biscuits of sugar-frosted breakfast cereal danced around the kitchen table, singing and flailing their little limbs while a human looked on and grinned idiotically. Trixie shuddered. That was not an appropriate use of the Come-To-Life spell! flip The brown stallion was in a park, with humans and ponies conspicuously walking and playing in the background. Another stallion approached to greet him. “Hey, Flint! How you getting used to the new bod?” “It’s a lot better than I expected. I’m as healthy as a horse now, haha! But dang, it’s rough having to do everything with my mouth and hooves, you know?” “I hear ya, buddy. Did you give the Hoof Helper a try? Check this!” He sat down and nosed at the elaborate bracer on his right foreleg. Immediately a mechanism unfolded and flipped forward, adding a set of fingerlike protrusions on either side of the hoof.” Trixie snorted dismissively. flip “…characteristic of the negative phase of the North Atlantic Oscillation. Meteorologists are blaming the phenomenon on a disruption to both the jet stream and ocean currents caused by the advancing Barrier. Computer models have been unable to forecast the interactions…” flip “…controversial refugee camps in Colorado, which have turned into recruiting grounds for the HLF terrorist group. Speaking at the United Nations, Equestria’s special envoy called for the closing of those camps.” The scene switched to a lavender-colored unicorn who Trixie easily recognized, though they’d only met once, briefly. She spoke into a microphone: “Our Conversion Bureaus have enough capacity to convert all the displaced humans and place them safely and comfortably on the Equestrian side of the Barrier, in the Exponential Lands. These refugee camps are only delaying the inevitable and causing needless strife.” The camera switched back to the human at the anchor desk. “The comments spurred immediate protests from the United States and several other nations. Shortly afterward Equestria’s ambassador to the UN, Lyra Heartstrings, issued a statement clarifying that Princess Celestia does not and will not advocate or condone the forced conversion of anyone.” Trixie nickered. “Oh, Twilight Sparkle… Have you come down with a case of hoof-in-mouth disease?” flip A cheery song played: “Put a little bit of love inside! Put a little bit of love inside!” A drably dressed man walked on a crowded street, surrounded by drably dressed people carrying black umbrellas. He pulled out a rainbow-colored umbrella and unfurled it, and it trailed a spray of multi-colored hearts behind. flip Some sort of cars zipped around a track, buzzing like hornets. An announcer yammered while the camera viewpoint shifted to follow the cars. The view changed to a camera on board one of the cars. Trixie watched for a few moments, feeling both thrilled and disoriented. flip Trixie began to feel lightheaded. The bombardment of alien sights and sounds was wearing her down. flip A colorful scene resolved showing two… people, for lack of a better word, sitting on a park bench. One appeared to be a sort of humanoid raccoon, and the other was a much larger bluejay. The raccoon said, “Dude, what was that all about?” The bird said, “I dunno. I don’t want to fight them, I just want them to leave.” “Well, we can’t show up with more compost. No. I think there’s only one thing left we can do to get them to stop cleaning those boats.” “What?” The raccoon pointed in the air, for emphasis. “Pizza party!” “Dude! You’re a genius.” Trixie set down the remote and got comfortable to watch the show. The next morning Trixie joined Ivan for breakfast. To her relief, Ivan didn’t tease her any more about food. The impending arrival of Moondancer made Trixie restless, so she decided to follow Ivan to the work site. As they walked, she asked him, “Are there many humans who look like animals? Like Katrina, I mean?” “What? No. There are very few. That kind of genetic modification isn’t allowed in most parts of the world. Why do you ask?” “Last night on the television I saw some stories about animal people. There was one with a raccoon and a bluejay, and there was one with rabbits and ducks and a pig and gophers. They seemed to mix freely with humans.” “That’s peculiar. Do you remember what those shows were called?” Trixie tried to remember. “Umm… I think one was called Looney Tunes.” Ivan blinked, started to say something, then stopped and broke down laughing. “Bwa haha! I knew it! You can’t tell cartoons from reality!” Trixie scowled, ears drooping. “I could tell! I mean, I knew it looked funny. But everything on the television is so bizarre. I looked at different channels, but almost none of it made any sense. I was beginning to think nothing it shows is real.” Ivan still chuckled, but he nodded and agreed. “Oh, now that’s closer to the truth. I shudder to think of anyone watching the telly and trying to learn about our society. We sometimes joke about it causing brain rot. Although, I don’t think it’ll really hurt you, as long as you don’t take any of it seriously.” “I’ll remember that.” After they reached the stone circle, Trixie had a chance to examine the earth-moving equipment that had been brought up. The field around the circle, which had been empty the previous morning, now was a forest of trailer houses, dump trucks, JCBs and maintainers. No work was being done yet, but a few workmen were already standing about, drinking coffee as they chatted. A few of the locals had come up from Keswick too, curious onlookers. Trixie trotted up to a JCB and then walked around it, viewing it from all angles. She sniffed, catching the scent of oil and grease. A couple of workmen, keeping their distance, watched her with equal curiosity. Ivan came closer and said, “I’ll bet you don’t have anything like that in Equestria.” She rolled her eyes. “We aren’t a bunch of cave-ponies; we have steam powered construction equipment back home. Honestly, I’m surprised at how normal these machines look. I expected some sort of technological miracle.” They went back to the stone circle itself, where Smithers was sitting on a short stone, looking morose. Ivan greeted him, “Morning! I’m surprised to find you up here so early.” Smithers shook his head. “I came up before dawn. I wanted to see the last sunrise over this place before it’s desecrated.” Ivan looked down at his hands, with contrite countenance. “You don’t have to watch, you know.” “Oh, but I do. It’s my responsibility, my duty. I brought my camera, too. I’m going to document every insult.” He stood up and draped the camera strap around his neck. He flipped a switch on the back of the camera, then nodded to both Ivan and Trixie. “Do you mind posing? We’re making history today — though for good or ill, only time will tell.” Trixie groused, “If I’d known we were doing this, I would have worn my cape and hat.” Nonetheless she posed with her front hooves upon the stubby stone, propping herself up and making herself look bigger while Ivan knelt beside her, and Smithers snapped the photo. Since it was now light enough, Smithers went to walk about and take more photos of the machinery and workers. A motor fired up, its noise breaking the morning stillness. Ivan told Trixie, “I’m afraid we don’t have any groundbreaking ceremony planned, but you’re welcome to stay and watch.” She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I’m afraid I would only be in the way. And besides, I’m eager to meet Moondancer. I should be at the farm when she arrives.” “Very well, I’ll see you back there later today.” He waved a farewell, and went to talk with his crew. Trixie made her way back to the farm house alone, then went to her room to meditate for a while. Stressed with feelings of homesickness, she’d had some difficulty maintaining her reserves of magical energy. It never seemed to come to her as easily as it had back in Equestria. After an extended session of meditation Trixie felt better. She donned her cape, then went to the utility kitchen to prepare some tea, which she then took to the communal lounge. She settled down to sip her tea and quietly read while waiting for Moondancer’s arrival. She had just finished the tea when she heard the front door. Trixie smiled, stretched her legs and went to the foyer. Mildred was holding the front door open while a younger woman brought in a pair of suitcases. Her eyes lit up when she spied Trixie. The woman set down her bags and smiled as she said, “Merry Meet! You must be Trixie Lulamoon. I’ve heard a lot about you.” “Of course you have! Trixie is, after all, the most magical unicorn in all Equestria — and her fame now spreads far beyond.” She paused, and leaned to the side to glance past the woman’s legs, out the door. “Err… Is Moondancer with you?” She blinked, then smiled broadly. “I’m Moondancer.” She knelt and put her hands together in a gesture of namaste and said, “May the blessing of the light be with you always, Trixie!”