Chapter Three: That’s One Hoopy Frood (Who Really Knows Where His Towel Is)
Jeremy opened his eyes. Sleep was impossible. No matter how many sheep he counted sleep eluded him. He looked around the darkened living room at his new friends, who just seemed like indistinct lumps sprawled on the couches. He needed some air... Something to clear his head. Maybe he could sneak out of the living room without waking any of the ponies and go outside for a minute or two.
He got up slowly, making every attempt to be stealthy so as not to awaken the ponies sleeping around him. The wooden floor was mercifully free of any dramatically creaking planks, so he thought he did a credible impression of a ninja as he finally reached the front door and opened it silently. It was a cool spring night with a brisk wind. The smells of the woods laid heavily on the air and small animal sounds made their way to him. It was an alien world. The first he’d ever been on. He looked up at the stars, hoping maybe to find something familiar. The spread like a jeweled band high overhead. Utterly alien to him. “I’m much closer to the galactic core here...” he muttered. “Wherever here is.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jeremy startled at the unexpected voice. Twilight Sparkle was walking out of Fluttershy’s home, staring up at the stars as well. Nice going, ninja. She giggled at Jeremy’s jump and came up next to him.
Jeremy nodded, even though he didn’t know if the lavender pony could see the gesture, “Yeah, it is. It’s nothing like this on Earth--too much light pollution. I mean, here, it’s almost as bright as twilight--and it’s the middle of the night! Uh, if you’ll forgive the irony.”
Twilight smiled and laughed quietly. “It happens less often than you’d think.” She looked up at the moon, a thin sliver of crescent moon, though it was quite large and low in the sky. “Luna must’ve really wanted ponies to admire the stars tonight.”
“Luna?”
“Princess Luna,” Twilight explained. “She’s Princess Celestia’s sister. She raises and lowers the moon every night.”
“She does what now?” Jeremy asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow at Twilight.
Twilight snorted a little when she laughed, “It’s not a story!” She protested. “Princess Luna and Princess Celestia raise the sun and the moon each day. They live in Canterlot Castle. Over there.” She pointed with one hoof to the north, though Jeremy couldn’t make anything out through the trees. “Celestia is my teacher.”
“Really?” Jeremy said curiously. “How does Princess Luna raise the moon? I mean, you know its a big ball of rock, right? And that it’s rotating this planet because of gravity, right? And the sun is a ginormous ball of incandescent, constantly fusing gas which masses way more than even this planet?”
Twilight laughed. Giggled really. “Yes, we’re aware of astrophysics, Jeremy! But there are problems with our little solar system in general and Equestria in particular. The moon is really much too close to rotate around Equestria at any safe distance. Without Luna’s interference, it would have torn away Equestria’s atmosphere long ago. And the sun... The sun is too weak. It’s way too old to give as much light and life to us as it is.
“Princess Celestia and Princess Luna... they make life possible for ponies. Without them, Equestria would be a lifeless, barren chunk of rock.” She sighed. “And Princess Celestia is so loving... so caring of every single pony. You’d think it would be enough that she gives us all life, but she also knows everyone in Ponyville--maybe even everywhere.”
It took a moment for that all to sink in. These princesses were definitely sounding more and more like entities he should meet. Though there were some questions to which he still needed answers. “How long have these Princesses been around anyway? I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but things are a little too well-established for life to have begun even a century ago.” Jeremy hoped Twilight understood where he was going with this line of questioning; he did not want to sound too desperate.
“No one really knows how long the Princesses have been alive. Forever, I guess.” From the almost pitying look Twilight gave him, it seemed obvious that Twilight had discerned Jeremy’s unasked question. Twilight’s horn lit up in a purplish glow and an image of a dark mare with reptilian eyes and some kind of silvery barding reared up in front of them. Jeremy involuntarily shied away, but Twilight continued, ”A long time ago, Princess Luna was banished to the moon when she let her resentment and fear overtake her and transform her into Nightmare Moon.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow, though Twilight wasn’t looking at him to see the gesture. “Nightmare Moon? That sounds pretty bad.”
“According to all sources I’ve read--both primary and secondary-- it was much worse than merely bad.” Twilight sighed as she stared at the sliver of silvery moon hanging low overhead. “The years leading up to Nightmare Moon’s banishment were terrifying. The sun never rose; night ruled the land.” Twilight sighed as the illusion of the terrifying mare in front of them reared up on her hind legs. Twilight ended her spell and the image dissipated. “Nightmare Moon refused to make way for the dawn--so the story goes. Of course, the reality is probably much more complex, but Princess Celestia doesn’t like to talk about it, so I don’t know what really happened back then.”
“That sounds pretty...incredible,” Jeremy mused. “So Celestia banished her own sister to the moon? That’s pretty harsh.”
Twilight shook her head, “By all accounts, there was very little of Luna in Nightmare Moon. Nothing of the playful and kind younger sister Princess Celestia knew and loved. Even then though... Even with her sister banished to the moon, Princess Celestia never lost hope that she could be redeemed. That’s how compassionate she is.”
Jeremy frowned, “But you just said that Princess Luna lived in that castle away to the north. When did she come back?”
“Just a few years ago.” Twilight smiled a small, private smile. “When the Elements of Harmony were used to free Princess Luna from the grief and rage and hate that had turned her into Nightmare Moon, we suddenly had our Princess of the night back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Princess Celestia so happy before.”
Jeremy and Twilight fell into a companionable silence and just watched the night sky for several minutes. Finally, Jeremy asked, “If Princess Celestia’s your teacher, d’you think you can introduce me? I mean, it sounds like she and Luna are immortals like me... There aren’t that many of us out there really.”
“I was going to write her a letter about you tomorrow anyway. I mean, your arrival is kind of a big deal.”
He laughed, “Yeah, I guess so.” He watched Twilight’s face. He could see the questions in her eyes and decided he really didn’t want to answer them. He yawned a touch dramatically and said, “I think I’m gonna hit the sack now. I’m pretty tired all of a sudden.”
Twilight looked like she was about to protest, but a yawn overtook her and she sighed instead. “Yeah, me too.” Twilight turned back toward Fluttershy’s house. When Jeremy didn’t immediately follow, she looked over her shoulder and saw that he had returned his gaze to the stars again. After a second, he turned back to her and slowly walked with her back into the house.
As they settled back into their spots on the couches, Jeremy whispered, “Hey Twilight?”
“Yes Jeremy?” She whispered back.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. And talking to me. It means more than you’d think.”
Twilight yawned again and laid her head down near Applejack’s, “No problem,” she murmured, “after all, what’re friends for?” Her voice grew softer with every word until a soft snore punctuated her last word.
Jeremy frowned up at the ceiling, hearing but not really listening to the sounds of the sleeping cottage. Friends... He thought of his best friend on Earth, Alex, billions of miles away. He thought of Clint and Jane, the first two immortals he’d ever met. Though far from the last... I wonder what these Princesses will think of me. Of what I represent. With that thought, an uneasy sleep finally claimed him.
~*.*~
Jeremy woke up early the next morning. It always happened when he slept in someplace strange. It was still dark in the little cottage, but it felt like the sun was about to be up soon. He stretched out on the couch being careful not to bump any of the ponies who were still sound asleep. He made his way outside, deciding on the spur of the moment that he wanted to watch the sunrise. He walked down the little dirt path to the small bridge over the stream and sat down on the edge, facing out to the horizon that seemed lighter.
He lost himself in thought and was surprised when Applejack’s voice cut through his ruminations. “Early riser, eh?”
Jeremy nodded, “Yeah... Whenever I used to sleep over at a friend’s house--no matter how late we stayed up--I’d be up before the sun. Sometimes it meant I didn’t get any sleep at all. I don’t know why, but if I’m not sleeping in my bed, I just don’t sleep in.”
“Farmponies don’t get to sleep in,” Applejack said, sitting on her haunches next to him, “always more work to do on the farm and not enough daylight to do it in.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes, the sky slowly lightening. After a while, Jeremy noticed that Applejack was staring at him. “What is it?” he asked. “Do I have something in my hair?”
Applejack shook her head, a light blush coloring her cheeks. “Sorry. I don’t mean t’be rude... It’s just that yesterday... Yesterday, your head was splattered all over my hoof. And now...”
“It’s not. Yeah. Believe me, it’s still weird for me.” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t claim to understand it. But there’s got to be a purpose for it. I mean, it’s not all random. It can’t be.”
“Everypony needs a purpose,” Applejack agreed. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Go for it.”
“Why’d you choose Equestria of all places to find your purpose? I mean, I ain’t complainin’ or nothin’, but it seems t’ me like, with the entire universe open to ya that Equestria’d be kinda close to the bottom o’ the list. I mean, ain’t there other more, uh...”
“Epic?” Suggested Jeremy.
“Yeah! Ain’t there other, more epic places to go?” Applejack gestured with her forehoof to the horizon, “I mean, I love Ponyville--nopony can doubt that--but it ain’t exactly all that important a place in the grand scheme o’ things. Leastways, I cain’t imagine it is.”
Jeremy laughed. “You know Applejack, if I was a proper immortal, I’m sure I’d have some sort of cryptic, wise-sounding answer which would reassure you while not really answering your question.” He adopted a smug, world-weary look look that held for all of two seconds before he laughed and looked like a twenty-something year old kid again. “Ironically, I don’t really have a good answer to your question Applejack. I’ve got something to do here. I know it. But I just don’t know what.”
Applejack watched the horizon as the sun rose. She nodded her head after a minute. “Fair ‘nough.” She glanced over at Jeremy a small smile on her lips. “I hope you stick ‘round for a while Jeremy. I kinda like you.”
Jeremy laughed silently and stood up. “Why don’t we go on in and fix the others some breakfast. I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do today. What with being a farmpony and all.”
“That I do.”
~*.*~
Fluttershy and Twilight woke up a few hours after Jeremy and Applejack. More than enough time for the human and the earth pony to make muffins and pancakes. By the time Fluttershy bade them a good morning, Applejack was leaving, on her way back to her farm. “Don’t you want to hear what happened next?” Jeremy asked, disappointed to see her leaving.
“I really do,” Applejack said regretfully, “but the farm don’t run itself an’ I been away from it long enough as it is.”
Jeremy waved good-bye--an unfamiliar gesture that earned him a confused look until he shouted an explanation--and he and Fluttershy sat down in the kitchen as Jeremy prepared a big pot of coffee. Applejack had suggested it as apparently, Twilight was not a morning pony. Fluttershy ate her breakfast quickly and barely said a word to Jeremy before she finally mumbled that she had to go feed her animals. I guess she doesn’t feel as safe when it’s just her. Too bad, I was hoping to get to know her better, thought Jeremy as he watched her practically run out of her house. That left him pretty much alone while Twilight was still asleep in the living room.
He used the time to explore the rustic cottage. Fluttershy had a number of color photos arranged on wooden shelves, mostly of wild animals, though there were several photos of ponies. Jeremy saw Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Fluttershy, though there were several others. Jeremy smiled to himself as he looked at the pictures. He felt like he got a fairly good idea of the personality of the shy pony from the photos: obviously, she loved animals and her friends. He liked what he saw.
Besides the photos, there were a number of small treasures which Fluttershy had arranged all over the place. Old bird’s nests preserved and displayed on an intricately carved shelf shared pride of place with beautifully faceted gemstones in a rainbow of hues. There was a frame with feathers affixed to it; again, all multicolored. Pride of place on the frame was given to a cerulean feather. Fluttershy had several fashion books interspersed through a vast library on biology, environmental sciences, herb lore, and veterinary medicine. Jeremy opened one of the books and flipped through the pages. Someone had written copious notes in the margins and had even crossed out sections of the book and written in their own information. He assumed it was Fluttershy. The sheer scope and depth of the butter-yellow pegasus’ knowledge was impressive. “She’s actually one of the smartest ponies in Ponyville,” Twilight’s musical voice came from behind him.
Jeremy shut the book and replaced it on the shelf before he turned around. “Who, Fluttershy?”
Twilight nodded and stretched out on the couch rubbing the sleep from her eyes with one hoof before she answered. “Most ponies just see a shy pegasus who prefers to spend time with a bunch of wild animals rather than other ponies. But Fluttershy’s a really dedicated student of the natural sciences.” Twilight hopped down from the couch and used her magic to levitate a couple of green, cloth-bound books from the shelf. One of the books had pastoral watercolor on the cover and the other had various herbs and flowers embossed in gold on the cover. “These two books are actually written by Fluttershy, though she published them under a pen name. This one,” she indicated the book with the watercolor on the cover, “is required reading at Canterlot University for graduate-level biology students. There’s a standing invitation from the university for the pony who wrote the book to come and teach.”
Twilight replaced the book on the shelf and opened the other book. Several full-color illustrations of plants and flowers along with page after page of cramped text flashed by. “This is the text on herb lore in the Everfree Forest. Fluttershy donates all the profits from her books to the various animal shelters in Canterlot and Ponyville.”
Jeremy raised his eyebrows in surprise. “How does she make a living then?”
Twilight blushed and coughed, “I, uh, hear that she gets... anonymous... donations to help her out. From ponies who are grateful for her help with their pets.” She lowered her voice and stepped close to Jeremy, “Fluttershy’s the sweetest pony in Ponyville. Nopony would let her go hungry. Besides, it’s not like she even needs it. She grows all her own food in her garden. Even her house was dug into the hill by her and her animal friends. She’s furnished and decorated it entirely with things she’s found in the forest.
“Ponies underestimate Fluttershy all the time. But just because she’s not flashy and loud as Rainbow Dash or as involved in Ponyville’s community as Rarity doesn’t mean she isn’t, in her own way, quietly incredible.” Twilight stopped talking and blushed, “I’m doing it again...”
“Doing what?”
“Lecturing.” Twilight replaced the last book back on the shelf and sniffed the air. “Is that coffee I smell?” Jeremy nodded and the two of them went into Fluttershy’s small kitchen and ate their breakfast.
“I do that a lot,” Twilight continued after she had eaten a muffin and had half a cup of coffee in her. “Lecture, I mean. It’s one of the reasons Princess Celestia sent me to Ponyville I think. To learn to be more socially adaptable.”
“I don’t mind,” Jeremy said, sipping his coffee, “You’re the first ponies I’ve ever met and, though it may be too early to say it, you’re also my first friends here on Equestria. I’d like to get to know everyone I can. But who are the two other ponies you mentioned? I don’t think I’ve met them yet.”
“Rarity and Rainbow Dash? They’re two more of my closest friends along with Pinkie Pie. We’re kind of a, I don’t know... a coterie?”
“A coterie, huh? That’s a fancy word for so early in the morning,” Jeremy chuckled at Twilight’s answering blush and waved a placating hand at her, “but it’s appropriate I guess. So when d’you think I’ll meet these others?”
“Oh, I imagine sometime today,” Twilight took another sip of coffee and then seemed to remember something. “Oh, that’s right! I meant to ask you last night about those Societies you mentioned. You never said which one you joined.”
“Really?” Jeremy scratched his head and shrugged, “It’s not a big secret or anything: I joined the Travelers.”
“Oh come on, you’re going to have to get a little more descriptive than that.”
Jeremy laughed and sighed theatrically, “Fine, you win! So Clint and I were walking through Nexus...”
~*.*~
The long hallway Clint and Jeremy walked down wound through several artistic styles and movements of a dizzying variety of cultures. Jeremy was content to just let it all wash over him in a sort of sensory overload. He didn’t even try to process everything he saw; it was just too much. Eventually, they turned off the main hallway to a smaller, more reserved hall. There were framed paintings in alcoves of various creatures, plants and...other configurations. Jeremy wasn’t sure about some of them. They were all lit very tastefully with recessed lighting and all in all, it lent the atmosphere the reserved hush of an art museum or theater.
The hall ended in a set of doors which opened automatically for Clint and Jeremy as they approached. “This,” said Clint in a hushed voice, “is the library.” Jeremy wasn’t too sure what he was expecting, but the muted, quiet room with low ceilings and hundreds of private alcoves was fairly low on the list. Clint led him to one of the alcoves and they both entered. There were two white upholstered chairs in front of a brushed steel desk and a control panel on the wall which allowed them to close the door.
Clint closed the door and sat down with Jeremy, smiling in ironic amusement. Jeremy was getting tired of Clint’s self-satisfied attitude, but withheld comment this time. “So,” he said instead, “this is the library. A-freakin-mazing.”
“This is indeed the Nexus library. More specifically, it’s the closed-circuit library. Open only to those immortals who belong to Societies... And their guests.” Clint gestured to the room around them. “This room is cut off from the rest of Nexus with all of the miraculous technologies available to immortals. The librarians here assure me that they cannot be hacked, but honestly, I don’t really know what the point is. Of course, I’m an Observer and we tend to have a rather liberal view of freedom of information.”
Jeremy just waited. He was also getting tired of asking tourist questions. Besides, he had been around Clint for long enough to know that the old man couldn’t help but elaborate. It seemed to be almost compulsive. Sure enough, Jeremy’s patience paid off when a minute later, Clint cleared his throat and leaned forward over the desk in front of them both. “You access the archives of the library through a holographic UI that you access by just waving your hand over the surface of the desk.”
Clint suited action to words and a the head of a bluish purple pig with green warts and a monocle materialized. The pig spoke in a rather urbanely accented English. “Welcome back to the Library, Observer Clinton,” the pig said, “would you care to resume your last line of research? Or perhaps your guest would like to suggest a new line of inquiry?”
Jeremy cocked a bemused eyebrow at Clint who ignored him. “Hey there Chumley,” he said, “We’ve got a newbie here. He’s unattached at the moment, but we’ll see how long that lasts.”
Clint turned to Jeremy now and gestured with one hand at the pig hologram, “This,” he announced, “is Chumley. He’s my personal Library assistant. Without Chumley, I wouldn’t have a hope of navigating the archives. He’s classified as a Stage One AI, which means he has sapience, but no will of his own. He does the work because the work is what he is. I designed him from the ground up!”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way!” Chumley chimed in cheerfully.
Clint grinned, “And a damn fine job you do of it too, buddy! I keep a copy of his neural net on my copy of the public library, so he and I can chat and do our work when we’re not in the Nexus. It’s what I brought you here for.” He turned back to Chumley. “Chumley, be a pal and get Jeremy here an uplink line for public access to the Nexus archives and go ahead and requisition a cortical implant injection for his own personal system. The nanites I gave him earlier aren’t exactly up to the task.” The pig nodded and winked, then disappeared in a puff of green smoke. “Showoff,” Clint said fondly.
“Cortical implant injection?” Said Jeremy, “I know I didn’t understand maybe eighty percent of what you just said, but I’m pretty sure that means you’re going to inject something into my brain.”
“Got it in one!” Clint tapped the side of Jeremy’s head with a finger, “Right in the cerebral cortex. Nothin’ to worry about though. It’s painless and useful. Cortical implants give you a personalized computer system which uses the structure of your brain to base a battery of nanites which act as an autonomous and discrete backup with almost unlimited storage potential, especially because the nanites aren’t confined to your brain: they just have a high concentration there so that you can get the information quicker.”
Jeremy nodded, no longer really paying attention. He had a much more pressing question, “You said you designed Chumley yourself... So why does he look like a purple warthog?”
Clint blinked at Jeremy in surprise, “Because that’s what I look like usually. Except my complexion is blue... I like purple. Oh, and I have wings generally.”
Jeremy just stared at him. I’m not going to say ‘What’ or ‘Huh’ or anything inane... He thought to himself furiously. Clint was grinning at him like he knew what he was thinking, “I took this form for comfort’s sake... Your comfort that is. Well, your species’ comfort that is. I couldn’t exactly do much observing looking like my natural self!”
Still, Jeremy resisted asking the question. And yet again, Clint answered him anyway, “Forms ain’t exactly permanent. Different species can change forms in different ways. For some, they have the mental fortitude to think themselves different. Some use reconstructive surgery. Some download their brain into a robotic body and project a hologram. I just used magic.”
Jeremy sighed; he couldn’t help it. He might as well get used to it, he supposed. “Magic?” he asked skeptically, “As in hocus-pocus, bippity-boppity-boo, magic? C’mon, Clint. Come on. Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t honestly give a flying fuck,” Clint said cheerfully, “Your belief in no way affects the outcome! But yes, I use magic for quite a bit! When you’ve been around for a few centuries, you can begin to weigh in on the debate of what’s possible and what isn’t, but not yet.” A soft chime sounded at the door to their alcove and Clint got up, “Ah! Here’s your cortical computer!”
He walked over to the door and fiddled with the controls. The door opened and a silver, football-shaped machine was revealed hovering outside. It had a pair of mechanical arms, in which it held a small syringe. Clint accepted the syringe and the machine silently floated away. Clint examined the syringe as he walked over to Jeremy. He uncapped it and, smiling, said, “Now, bend your head down.
“What?” said Jeremy, but didn’t get the opportunity to say more as Clint grabbed his hair and pulled it, causing Jeremy to cry out and yanking his head down at a painful angle. He instinctively fought against the older man, but was easily overmatched. All of a sudden, Clint brought the syringe sharply down at an angle at the base of his skull. “Ow!” Jeremy put a hand up where Clint had hit him, but Clint had already moved away from him, re-capping the syringe and tossing it onto the desk. “What the hell man!?”
“Sorry,” Clint said, sounding anything but, “it was easier that way. Give it a minute, the nanites are populating your cerebellum now. Pretty soon, you’re going to feel very strange.”
Jeremy was about to say that he felt nothing of the sort when his vision abruptly doubled then tripled, then blurred entirely. He smelled a sharp, metallic burning smell and tasted bananas. His skin felt like it was alternately wet then extremely dry. He almost fainted, but managed to hang onto consciousness by sheer force of will. Eventually, it ended and Jeremy felt...something. He felt like there was another person in the room which he could neither hear nor see, like a ghost. “That feeling,” Clint said, “is the OS booting up and customizing itself to your neural pathways. It’ll fade soon.”
Clint was right: the feeling slowly faded away and Jeremy was left just rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head where Clint had injected the nanites. “Now what?”
“Now, you need to access your UI. It’s the basic interface you’ll be accessing the archives and your system with, and because it’s brand spankin’ new, you’ll need to go through the default startup procedure to activate the system.”
“And what is the default startup procedure?”
Clint grinned. “It’s gonna take a while...”
It took almost four hours of seemingly random and pointless mental and physical exercises which steadily increased in complexity until, at the very end, Jeremy was tapping out “We Will Rock You” with his fingers while telling Clint about the plot to his favorite movie--The Prestige--while trying to mentally play through In The Halls of the Mountain King. He had already, among other things, imagined a series of complex and impossible geometric shapes, balanced on one foot, sang his favorite song, thought about the way ice cream tasted, and thought back to the earliest memory he could accurately recall. Finally, Clint told him he was done and Jeremy gratefully collapsed into the chair. Though he hadn’t done anything physically strenuous, he felt mentally wrung out.
“Well now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Clint asked.
“You’re a bastard,” Jeremy groaned, “and what did that even accomplish anyway?”
“I never said I wasn’t, but my parentage is none of your business. Now your cortical computer is active and calibrated to your brain pattern. To bring up the UI, you just have to imagine a white background with a black circle.”
Jeremy sighed and did so. Suddenly, the air in front of him sparkled to life with a very convincing replica of a computer monitor-- complete with a Windows logo on the background of the desktop-- with a keyboard and mouse in front of it. “Right now,” Clint explained, not bothering to hide his amused condescension, “the nanites are using images that are familiar to you and projecting them through about a billion holoprojectors which have propagated through your skin. You can customize it all later on. But for now, let’s just concentrate on learning what this thing can do and how to access the public portion of the library.”
Jeremy sighed in resignation as Clint launched into yet another tutorial.
After a mere six more hours, Jeremy had scratched the surface of his cortical computer system. Clint had some food brought in to their alcove so they wouldn’t have to interrupt their session. One of the more interesting discoveries Jeremy made was that his cortical computer had an interface which allowed direct control of all nanite subsystems in his body. The medical, translation, and even the cortical nanites all had their own interfaces which allowed extremely fine-grain control of their behavior. He was able to tweak the medical nanites so that he no longer needed sleep. Or food, or air, or water. The effect was bizarre and a little frightening.
Since he was familiar with it, Jeremy kept the desktop computer UI his cortical computer projected for him. It definitely made everything seem less alien and he found that he could, with a little imagination and options, make the hologram change shapes into a tablet or laptop without too much more effort. The more bizarre the shape, though, the more difficult Jeremy found it to interact with and so he decided to leave a talking head assistant for another day. There was a Stage One AI template already in the cortical computer’s massive memory banks (Clint said that information storage was managed on a quantum level... whatever that meant), so Jeremy figured he’d be able to do something more advanced later on, if he really wanted to.
For now, though, he used the computer much like his Dell back on Earth. He used an Internet browser to access the library’s public archives, which, he was amused to discover, was laid out in a design almost identical to WikiPedia. He didn’t bother to point this out to Clint, who he knew would bore him with details and the whys and wherefores of it. Jeremy didn’t really care all that much. After puttering around a little and being generally just overwhelmed by the sheer scope of it all, he ran across something that intrigued him more than a little.
“Clint,” he said, staring at his monitor’s computer screen where a username and password field mocked his attempts to read an article, “Why can’t I read these travel journals?”
Clint leaned over his shoulder and scowled at the screen. “Those’re locked... Encrypted from public view. Travelers Society only. They won’t even let Observers get a look at ‘em.”
Jeremy sighed and closed the browser window. He then remembered that this was all pretty much an external representation of his imagination and simply made the entire computer vanish. He turned to Clint and glared at him. “Okay, Clint. It’s time to come clean. Why are you helping me?”
Clint’s eyebrows shot up and the older man leaned back in his chair. “Why, outta the goodness of my heart, of course!” When Jeremy failed to look convinced Clint chuckled, “It was worth a try! Still, credit where it’s due. You picked up on it pretty quick.”
Jeremy waited for him to continue, tapping one foot on the floor. Clint leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and looking at Jeremy earnestly. “So my motives aren’t entirely altruistic. What possible difference could it make to you?”
“Well,” said Jeremy slowly, “it could make a lot of difference. What if you’ve lied to me? You’re pretty much the only other ‘immortal’ that I’ve seen. And I’m still not convinced about the whole immortality thing. But for now,” he said quickly, holding up a hand to forestall Clint’s retort, “I’ll just assume that you’ve more or less told the truth about everything. But that still leaves me in the dark about, well, pretty much everything. I think the Societies mean more than just staving off boredom. That explanation might fly for a five-year-old, but if a bunch of immortal aliens are going to pal up and work together, then there’s more to it than just finding a way to occupy their time.”
Clint smiled grimly, “Very good Jeremy. Very good. You’re catching on. You’re right, of course. The Societies are far more than I had originally implied, though their function can be essentially boiled down to keeping ourselves occupied. But there’s more to it than that.” Clint gestured with one hand and the air in front of him was suddenly filled with a three dimensional image of the heart of the galaxy Jeremy had seen out of the huge windows in the cafeteria earlier that day. “What do galaxies, stars, solar systems-- hell, life in general, why not? What do all those things have in common?”
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Don’t dodge the question by asking me another question. You’re not Socrates and I’m not Plato. Just answer the fucking question.”
Clint scowled and snapped back, “I’m trying to, but since you need to have all the answers handed right over to you, I’ll humor you. The answer is that all of those things have one thing in common: they’re order imposed on an otherwise chaotic and random system. Planets rotate around suns, galaxies form in such distinct patterns, life strives wherever it can... But no one really knows why.”
“Really? I thought immortals would have it all figured out by now.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” Clint growled, though he was smiling when he did. “Kid, entire religions are founded, wars are fought, solar systems are blasted to lifelessness based on species’ theories on that one ‘why’. The Societies, to greater and lesser degrees, were all founded by immortals who have different approaches to answering that question. The pursuit in the answer to that question is where ah... tensions have arisen.”
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow, “What kind of ‘tensions’ are we talking about here?”
“Remember when I told you that Jane had been stuck in the heart of a star for two million years?” Jeremy nodded, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, “Well, she was thrown into that star by another immortal--one of the Brotherhood of Entropy--who had a disagreement with her about the pursuit of the answer to that question.”
“She got thrown into a star over a disagreement?! That’s fucked up!”
Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he plucked another cigarette from his crumpled pack and lit it. He took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke in a big ugly cloud which was almost immediately sucked out of the room by unseen vents. “Ah, but you see, like everything else that truly matters to anyone, knowledge is power... And in very rare instances, the pursuit of knowledge can yield unimaginable power. The pursuit of the answer to why everything in our universe fights so hard against entropy has yielded a very compelling reason for these little disagreements to continue.” Clint made another vague gesture and another image replaced the one of the heart of the galaxy. Floating in front of them was a dark blue faceted metallic sphere. Its surface occasionally reflected purplish light in hypnotic patterns.
“What is it?”
“That,” Clint said, his voice almost reverent, “is a matrix of etherium. Etherium, Jeremy, is what the Societies fight about. This substance has been linked to the origins of sapience in species, the formation of stable molecules, the fusion reaction in stars... It seems to have a hand in just about every important reaction in the universe. And we have no idea what it is.”
Jeremy stared at the image in front of him. It didn’t look particularly special; it was pretty, certainly. Beautiful, once he really got to looking. The facets were so precise. And the way that purple light flashed across the surface. The blue was almost, but not quite metallic, like there was a sheen of oil rubbed into it... and it was deep. The longer he stared at it, the more entranced he became. Suddenly, the image disappeared and he blinked. “What-what happened?” He sputtered.
“You were staring at that picture for an hour,” Clint said gently, “Etherium has that effect on sentient creatures. All sentients. From the lowest earthworm to the highest crystalline silicoid intelligence. It’s in a constant state of flux: matter to energy, energy to matter. That’s what those purple flashes were. It converting itself from one state to another. Notice how it didn’t explode? And it’s not radioactive either. It never stays in one state long enough for it to be observed. By anything. We’ve subjected etherium to batteries of tests with the fastest supercomputers known to any race and come up with zilch on the chemical makeup of the stuff.
“It’s a scientific impossibility. A lot like us.” Clint grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “But what makes etherium more than just a passing curiosity in a universe full of strange things is what you can do with it.” Clint stood up and beckoned Jeremy to join him. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”
Jeremy stood up and followed Clint out of the alcove. The rest of the library was arranged in a honeycomb pattern with identical alcoves occupying the majority of the space, though there were larger rooms with many seats and bigger desks. Jeremy didn’t see anyone else as he and Clint walked down the hall. They made a few turns, each new hallway almost exactly like the last, and then finally Clint stopped in front of what looked like another alcove. He made a complicated pass in the air and his finger trailed a greenish light. The door opened silently.
He led Jeremy into the room--another alcove almost identical to the one they had left but for the object sitting on the desk. It looked like the matrix of etherium that Clint had shown Jeremy, but rather than flashing with that purple light, it seemed completely inert. “This is a matrix of etherium that has been drained.”
Jeremy picked up the object. It was heavier than it looked like it should be, but not so heavy that he dropped it. It was cool to the touch and its texture reminded him of a lump of hematite he’d had when he was a kid. The temperature of the etherium didn’t change at all, no matter how long he held it in his hand. “Etherium is drained when a sapient creature uses it to warp the nature of reality.” Seeing Jeremy’s blank look, Clint clarified. “They grant wishes, Jeremy. And not just letter-of-the wish lawyer talk garbage, the etherium seems to read the intent of the wisher. The bigger the change enacted by the wish, the more etherium required. A chunk of etherium this size... Well, you could be a god with a chunk like this. That’s what this one was used for.”
“So, if I picked up a ball of etherium, I’d just have to say, ‘I wish?’ That’s a little... odd. Where do you even find this stuff?”
Clint laughed, “Actually, etherium is one of the most common substances in the universe. You find it in trace amounts in literally everything. It’s one of the fundamental facts of the universe, but it’s damn near impossible to detect due to its dynamic nature. It doesn’t radiate anything according to any instrument available to us... We’re not even sure that the stuff is conventionally real in the strictest definition of the word.
“But the substance seems to read your intention for the wish. To activate it, you have to hold it in your hand--and if you don’t have hands, simply make sure it’s touching a part of your body--and direct your intention at the etherium while focusing on the effect you want. Some people do say ‘I wish’ but it’s not common.”
“But if that’s true, then wouldn’t people’s wishes be coming true all the time? I mean, come on! This is ridiculous!”
“And who says that their wishes don’t come true all the time?” Clint put his hands together in an attitude of prayer and grinned at Jeremy, “Haven’t you ever heard of the power of prayer? Or of positive thinking? Inert etherium can be recharged. It’s another one of the reasons the Societies were formed.”
Jeremy had a sudden urge to pocket the ball of etherium and only Clint’s smiling presence stopped him. “How?”
“By intention, sensation...in short, life. The Societies all pursue the answer to the ‘why’ question differently.” Clint started ticking off fingers, “The Brotherhood of Entropy seek to destroy order where they find it. They believe that chaos and disorder is the natural state of the universe and seek to enforce it wherever they can.
“The Symposium seek out the secrets of the universe. They believe that hidden within the gems of forbidden knowledge is the path to the ultimate answer. Where there is scandal, betrayal or even juicy gossip, the Symposium is likely hanging around.
“Song of Eternity seeks the answer through religious devotion. Only, theirs is a truly agnostic system. They believe that only when they know and accept all forms of religion will they find God. Or Goddess. Or whatever.” Clint grimaced, “That’s not entirely fair, I know. But I have my own bias.
“The Travelers believe that the secret of the universe lies in the journey. They travel as far and as wide as they can, never stopping for very long, always on a trip. They write those travel journals in the hopes that, if they didn’t see the answer, someone else might.
“Look/See/Feel believe that the answer can be found in the sensual. They experience every sense they possibly can and believe that the true answer lies within us all but can only be experienced as the sum of all sensory experiences.
“Finally, the Observers--my Society-- believes that the best chance to find the reason for it all lies in watching everything around us. Including--no, especially--the other Societies. The act of observation changes what is observed and through this subtle power, we enact our will.
“When a member of a Society finds etherium, they tend to make a wish which brings them closer to what they think is the answer. That’s not to say there haven’t been selfish wishes, or wishes not spent in the pursuit of the Answer. But that’s the idea. Find the answer, figure out why things are the way they are.”
Jeremy considered Clint’s words for a long time, feeling the heft of the etherium in his hand. Finally, he made a decision. “Okay. That makes a weird kind of sense I guess. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re helping me.”
Clint spread his hands, “Ain’t it obvious kid? The Observers want you! We’re always looking for new members. And a fresh immortal? That’s nothing to sneeze at. We--I was hoping that some guidance and help at the right time would give you something to think about. Maybe you’d consider joining us?”
“And what if I don’t want to?” Jeremy asked, starting to get angry. “What if I don’t care about your ‘help’ or whatever you want to call this. It’s not actually ‘help’ is it? It’s manipulation!”
Clint’s smile still hadn’t slipped. He shook his head, “You may not want to throw out this offer so easily, kid. It isn’t made lightly.”
“Look, I don’t really give a fuck what you say, Clint. You’re not even human! You don’t care about the same things I do! Fucking etherium?! A magic rock that grants you wishes? No man, I don’t really give a flying fuck for any of this.” He tossed Clint the ball of etherium and turned his back on the old man. “I just want to go home. Wake up from this fucked up dream.”
“You don’t understand yet, Jeremy,” Clint said softly, “You don’t get to wake up. It’s not a dream. If you go home, nothing’s going to change. And besides, what really gave you the idea that you even had a choice?”
Jeremy suddenly felt cold all over. Clint’s smile hadn’t changed, but his eyes had lost the sparkle. They looked flat. Deadly. Like a shark’s eyes; full of hunger and passionless need. Jeremy didn’t wait for the situation to devolve any further. He lashed out with a lightning-quick knife-hand strike to the old man’s throat. The attack caught Clint off-guard and he choked, instinctively putting his hand up to his throat. Jeremy dashed past him and out the door.
~*.*~
“I just ran and ran from there.” Jeremy said. He finished the last of his coffee, setting it down on the kitchen counter and not looking at Twilight. “I got lost for a long time. God, I don’t know how long I ran around. Sometimes, I’d see Clint, only he didn’t look much like the man who’d helped me before. His eyes had lost all their humanity. He never ran, but he was always just behind me. It was creepy.”
“How did you escape?” Twilight asked, her eyes wide.
Jeremy shrugged. “Luck? Fate? I don’t know. Maybe Clint let me go. But I found myself outside of the library. I stopped someone and asked where the teleporters were and they gave me directions... I ran to the nearest one and just told it to take me as far away from Clint as possible. I ended up more or less here.” He laughed bitterly, “I have no idea where I am, and I’m kind of an outlaw I guess. An unattached immortal. Of course, Clint could have been full of shi--lying. He could have been lying the whole time. I mean, I’ve used my cortical computer to confirm a lot of what he said, but you didn’t see him at the end there... It was frightening as all get-out.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “Well, you came to the right place. Equestria’s had its share of dangers, but it’s a pretty peaceful place really. And I know that the Princesses will help you in any way they can. They’re amazing that way.”
Jeremy looked skeptically at Twilight, “You really think so?”
Twilight smiled confidently, “Of course! But really, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of my friends first. Then we can go to my library and send a letter to Princess Celestia requesting an audience.”
“I’d be glad to meet some more of your friends, Twilight!” Jeremy drank the last of his coffee and washed out the mug. “When did you want to go?”
“Now’s as good a time as any.”
They cleaned up their breakfast mess and Twilight made sure to leave a thank-you note for Fluttershy explaining where they had gone. Then the two made their way into Ponyville to meet the rest of Twilight Sparkle’s friends.