Circuitry

by Show Off


Free Fall

Countless streams of information pour through my mind; bits of data processed in the form of ones and zeroes. It is like a waterfall, this virtual cascade of information only my mind’s eye can see. It is a soothing experience, to simply observe the data points, rather than constantly trying to analyze them.
Phase Shift is using me as a mobile computer terminal while she conducts some experiments away from the laboratory. She usually likes to work in silence, so I have very little to do aside from observe and record. It is not a tedious task; it feels rather good to not have to continuously rewrite lines of code while trying to move about in everyday life. Instead, I am lying on the grass as Phase collects measurements of solar radiation.
“You certainly seem to be having a good time,” she says absently to me.
I had not noticed the slight smile on my face before now. “Perhaps data collecting is my special talent.”
Phase suddenly spins around from her instrument cluster. “A.M.P.! Was that sarcasm?!” she asks excitedly.
I frown. “No, it was merely speculation. A pony’s special talent is typically something she enjoys, correct?”
Phase laughs and returns her attention to her tools. “Of course, of course.”
Her reaction confuses me, and I tilt my head. “You are implying that I should be more sarcastic,” I say pointedly.
“Well, sarcasm is a fairly advanced kind of communication; to say one thing and mean the exact opposite is…well, it’s tricky, is all. So you can understand why I was surprised you’d be using it.”
“You thought perhaps that I had made a leap forward in my development.”
“Exactly.”
Phase returns to her experiment, leaving my mind thoughts free to wander. I begin to think about special talents and cutie marks. I wonder if I will get one; do cutie marks manifest in organic life only? Or is it a product of sentience? Are they products of a genetic component, or a magical one? It strikes me how little I know of my own nature.
I examine my body and compare it to medical standards for the average pony. At five and half hooves tall, I stand slightly over the average; enough to look a large stallion in the eye, but far from abnormal. Weight: 400 kilos. Significantly above average, but that can be easily attributed to my physical makeup.
My outer chassis itself is slender and fit, a testament to Twilight’s skill in efficient design. The hard white shell is criss-crossed with seams and dotted with rivets, but at a distance it is almost indistinguishable from a uniform coat. Black wires are barely visible where my limbs meet my torso, and the pistons and servos of my neck are covered by a ribbed, flexible, rubber boot. My mane and tail are composed of jet black fibrous electrodes that provide feedback about weather conditions, including wind speed, direction, barometric pressure, temperature, and humidity. By all standards, I appear to be a white earth pony with a black mane and tail, albeit split up by seams in the metal work and a gloss not attributed with normal coats.
I think about the normal fur and manes of regular ponies. Perhaps my physical appearance is what drives others away from me. It seems illogical though; ponies come in thousands of color combinations. I do not know why I would stand out so starkly.
The sun glints off of my side, causing a harsh flare on the lens of one eye. I have considered asking Twilight to provide me with a matte finish, and even briefly for a color other than white, but I doubt she has the time to repaint me with all of her work. Perhaps I can ask for it as a gift for Hearths Warming Eve.
“I’m finished here, A.M.P.,” Phase calls, breaking me out of my thoughts. The comforting flow of data has ceased and I have uploaded the last few bytes by the time I stand.
“Have you collected the information you needed?” I ask her.
“I hope so,” she replies. “But even if not, I have more than enough to sift through on my own.”
I help her pack her instruments into our saddlebags. “Do you believe your study will be enough to convince Princess Celestia to shorten the day?”
“I can’t say for sure right now. And it’s not vitally important; I’m mainly just interested to see if a reduction in daylight hours would be beneficial for the crops. In all likelihood, the change would be very minor. This assignment is more about technique and procedure than anything, but it might yield some interesting results.” She levitates one set of saddlebags onto my back and the other onto her own. Nodding her head in the direction of the city, she asks “Let’s go home, shall we?”
“After you,” I gesture. The brown unicorn sets off a trot, eager to continue her research. She is a dedicated student, and I have no doubt she will do quite well.
On the way trough town, we pass an earth pony dressed as a clown. A cluster of foals at his hooves giggles as he creates childishly simple figurines out of balloons and makes prat-falls. I stop to observe the situation.
“Do a puppy!” one excited filly squeals. The clown laughs good-naturedly, and deftly crafts a crude approximation of a dog out of a blue balloon. He produces it with a flourish, and all the foals clap their hooves together.
“Here ya go!” he exclaims, handing it to her.
“I want a giraffe!” calls one colt.
“I want a gryphon!” yells another.
“What about Princess Celestia?” a smaller filly cries.
The street performer creates simplistic renderings of the foals’ requests almost as quickly as the little ones suggest them. Before long, each of the dozen or so colts and fillies are holding their own balloon figures.
He catches my eye and calls out to me. “What about you?” His voice is high and happy. “What would you like to see?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you,” I reply, hoping to avert his gaze.
“Oh come on! Surely there’s something you’d like? I can make anything with these balloons, I can. Here, let me prove it!” He inflates a single balloon, pulls out a marker and scribbles a crude face on it. “See? It’s a snake!” The foals around him collapse in a fit of giggles. “Come on now! What do you want?”
I am about to decline again and back away, but I feel a bump on my flank. I turn to see Phase waving her hoof at me, egging me on. “Go for it! Clowns are so much fun!”
“Um…” At a loss for words, I quickly say the first thing that I come up with. “A sucrose carbon chain.”
He blinks at me for a few moments, apparently thrown by the odd request. “Well, if it’s a sucrose molecule the mare wants, it’s a sucrose molecule she’ll get!” I do not think the foals know what a molecule is, but they stare in rapt attention anyway as he inflates a number of balloons and begins linking them together. Not even thirty seconds later, and he is holding out a perfect atomic model of sucrose for me to take.
“It’s like science!” cries the colt with the gryphon balloon, and the foals around him squeal in delight.
I secure the complex rubber sculpture to my back, then turn back to the clown. “How did you accomplish such a feat?”
He taps his flank and turns so that I can see his cutie mark; a balloon structure of the Eiffel Tower. “Special talent,” he whispers. Then he turns back to the crowd of foals clamoring for more of his creations. “Say colts and fillies, if you liked this, don’t miss the Canterlot Circus next week! There’ll be more clowns, manticore taming, pegasus stunts, and a high wire! Sure to be lots of fun!” He passes out fliers to each of them. “Tell your parents; bring the whole family!”
The foals take the fliers greedily and scatter towards their homes, having bought the sales pitch. The clown gives me a flier as well. “You come out too! Sure to be a good time!” He flashes a smile and disappears down the road, honking his over-sized nose as he walks.
“I didn’t know the circus was in town!” Phase exclaims. “That’ll be so much fun! I hope Splice Bolt is free.”
The flier depicts stylized ponies performing acrobatic stunts and lists of the events. “It appears that the Wonderbolts will be giving a performance as well,” I state.
“You’re going, right?” Phase asks as we resume our walk home. “The circus is just too much fun to pass up.”
“I suppose it would provide an excellent opportunity to study behavioral patterns in large crowds...”
“Oh, wonderful! Let’s get Twilight to go too!” Phase exclaims. She canters briskly towards the observatory, leaving me to catch up.

* * *

“So, Phase tells me you want to go to the circus next week,” Twilight says casually as she disconnects me from the lab computer that night.
“I thought it would provide a good opportunity to observe group behavior in large settings,” I reply, mentally shrugging off the icy tendrils of mainframe.
“Not everything has to be a study, A.M.P.,” Twilight admonishes lightly. “You could just go to have some fun.”
“Social gatherings are rarely ‘fun’ for me, Twilight. Almost ninety percent of the interactions I have had have ended poorly.”
Twilight flutters her wings in frustration, resettling them as she tries to maintain her composure. “Well maybe this one will fall in that lucky ten percent.”
“I am not so optimistic. I would much rather take a run along the cliffs on the south face of the mountain.” It has been roughly fourteen weeks since I visited the cave, and I have not left the city since that time. The added stress of prolonged social contact is causing minor bugs in my coding to pop up; I have lately been experiencing an unusually strong urge for solitude.
“Perhaps you could compete in one of the races at the circus,” Twilight suggests.
“That is not quite what I meant…”
The princess walks me over to my bed and gives me a look that I cannot quite interpret. “Well, the point is that you are branching out from your usual comfort zone, and that’s what’s important.” She motions for me to lie down, and after I do, she pulls my blanket up over me and levitates Princess Prettypants into my forehooves. “Goodnight, my little pony,” she says kissing me on the forehead. She turns out the lights in the lab on her way out, and smiles at me one last time before exiting.
I do not go to sleep right away. Instead, I consider the logical implications of being optimistic and pessimistic about travelling to a circus filled with ponies that might panic at the sight of me at any moment. After chasing every possible outcome and whittling down to the few dozen with a greater than forty percent chance of occurrence, I decide to hope for the best but stay prepared for the worst, and power down for the evening.
I whisper to my doll before I’m offline; “I hope they just ignore me.”

* * *

Hundreds of ponies part around me and reform into a single mass of jumbled pastel colors as I stand just outside the entrance to the Canterlot Fairgrounds. Opening day of the circus has brought out the rich and poor of Canterlot alike; I am awed by the sheer number of other citizens. There is an odd anonymity to large crowds. While people continue to jostle me, they do not seem to notice me, and for once I am not the center of attention.
Twilight nudges my shoulder with a hoof. “A.M.P.? Are you ready to go in?”
“Yes,” I reply and trot up to the ticket booth.
“Five bits,” a clearly bored attendant tells me. I dig the coins out of my gray saddle bag and deposit them on the counter in front of him. He sweeps them into a collection bin and levitates a red “ADMIT ONE” ticket to me. “Have a good time.” I am not sure he means it.
“Go on, sweetie,” Twilight says. “I’ll be there in just a moment.”
The unicorn ticket taker jumps a bit. “P-Princess Twilight! It’s an honor!” An incoherent slough of words continues to issue from his mouth as I move beyond the main gate.
Inside, the fairgrounds almost seem alive. Everything is covered in lights that blink and chase each other, and lively tunes blare from loudspeakers everywhere. I can hear foals squealing on the midway, and the braying of exotic animals from scattered tents all around. And under it all, I can hear the constant incoherent chatter of ponies talking and laughing.
“What do you want to do first?” Twilight calls from behind me.
“I am…unsure. It is all a little overwhelming.” I glance over at the midway. “The foals seem to be having a good time over there.”
Twilight wrinkles her face in disgust. “Ugh, the games at a circus are all rigged.”
“The merchants are dishonest? They seem amiable enough.”
“Trust me, sweetie, you don’t want to waste your bits there.”
I watch a young colt struggle to lift a mallet in his hooves and bring it down on a strike plate; the weight on the scale in front of him rises a few hooves in the air, but falls far short of the large bell at the top. “That one seems straightforward,” I say, pointing.
“The old strength test gimmick? Really, A.M.P.? I don’t think even you could get it up there.”
“You have made it a challenge, one which I will not refuse,” I state, and step towards the squat yellow earth pony currently retrieving the young colt’s consolation prize, a small stuffed lizard.
I deposit the mandated 5 bits in his collection bin. The clinking of the coins catches his attention. “Ah, another competitor, eh?” He freezes when he catches sight of my mechanical body, but recovers quickly when he spots Twilight behind me. “W-well, step right up! Ring the bell and win double your bits back!”

>>Run: size-masscomp.exe
>Return: 5.162 kilos
>>Run: forceapplic.exe
>Return: 51 N req
>>Adjust for dishonesty factor
>Return: x5
>Return: 255 N
>>Apply

I raise the mallet over my head and bring it down on the strike plate with pin-point accuracy. The weight rises midway up the eight hoof scale, higher than the colt’s swing brought it, but it falls back to the ground again.
The vendor grins. “Oh, so sorry. You can swing again for two bits.”
Next to me, Twilight shakes her head. “I tried to tell you, A.M.P. Nopony can get the bell to ring.”
“Sure they can! Just gotta hit it a little harder...” The stubby pony seems intent on making a sale; he taps the side of the collection box excitedly.
“Let’s go,” says Twilight.
“One moment,” I reply. I reach down and pluck a small rock from the dirt. After calculating the appropriate trajectory, I fling the pebble at the bell atop the tower. It strikes, ringing out across the fairgrounds. I turn to the stallion. “I believe you owe me ten bits.”
“I don’t think I do.”
I play back the stallions own voice to him. “‘Ring the bell and win double your bits back!’” He stares at me, dumfounded, then turns to Twilight, who is struggling to contain her laughter. “Perhaps you should be more cautious in the wording of your sales pitches.”
I have a feeling he would protest further, but after he glances at Twilight once more, he reaches into the collection box and pulls out a handful of coins. “Congratulations. Now be on your way,” he grumbles.
I turn to Twilight. “May we go now?”
Unable to contain it any longer, Twilight bursts into laughter and unfolds one wing over me. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go see what else there is.”
We wander through a sea of ponies, looking for anything that might be interesting. Twilight spots a sideshow that showcases various emerging technologies and we make our way to the tent.
Inside, the canvas shelter is overcrowded with various devices and demonstration. A Van de Graaff generator amuses young foals by making their coats stand on end. Plasma globes entertain the young and old alike, everyone seemingly awed by the way the arcs travel to their hooves and follow them around. Towards the back, a large tub has been filled with a non-Newtonian fluid, and ponies take turns jumping across it and, on occasion, sinking in.
Every nook and cranny of the tent attempts to showcase some kind of scientific principle, and the tent reminds me more and more of the lab at the Observatory. I start to relax a little, and start reading every explanation card I stumble across, eager to prove or disprove any theory that may be inaccurate. I am back in familiar territory again, and get lost in the wonders of science and logic.
At some point, I stop to look up and notice that Twilight is no longer next to me. I turn to look for her, but I cannot pick her out of the crowded mass occupying the tent. As I wander off to look for her, one pony bumps into me.
“Watch it!” he grumbles, giving me an annoyed look; when he catches my eye, his expression changes into fear, then to anger. “Oh, it’s you!”
“My apologies,” I say, trying to calm the stallion down. “I am simply looking for-”
“I don’t care what you’re looking for, you freak. You stay away from my family!” He gestures to a mare and a young foal.
I take a step back to try to placate the stallion. “It was not my intention to offend-”
“Yeah, right!” the dark green unicorn spits at me. “You belong as an exhibit in this tent, not wandering the streets of Canterlot.” Other ponies are beginning to form behind the angry father, and they too appear to be aggravated as well.
“Please…” I whisper softly. “I do not wish to cause trouble.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come here!” cries one voice from the growing crowd. “Why can’t you just get out and leave honest pony-folk be?” calls another.
Flushed with the confidence only a mob could grant a pony, the unicorn stallion from before strides over and strikes my face, then pulls it back so that our eyes meet. “Why don’t you just go run along now?” There is malice in his voice that I have never heard before, and it cuts deep into my circuitry.
While momentarily stunned by the hate I am experiencing, a foal in the crowd picks up a small rock from the dirt floor and hurls it at me. I flinch and duck away, but it is followed by a second, and a third. Soon there are rocks hailing down on my powder-coated shell, some of the larger rocks causing sizeable dents.
I turn to run from the angry mob. They are all shouting now, intent on making sure that I am, at the very least, considerably damaged. I break into a gallop and sprint out of the sideshow tent, not stopping when I reach the main gate to the fairgrounds.
I veer to the west, toward some of the highest cliffs on the mountain. The cave today has no appeal; I want to see the sky.
I climb to the highest point I can on the steep cliffs, and look out towards the horizon. I can barely make out a smaller town a few hundred kilometers from the base of the mountain; Twilight tells me that this is Ponyville. The train tracks are almost invisible from this altitude, but I can see the minuscule steam cloud that pours from the locomotive.
I stand near the edge of the cliff for several hours. After the events at the circus today, I feel despondent. I have done nothing to harm the ponies of this city, and yet they still push me away. Every time I set about to discern the answer to this problem, I arrive at the same conclusion: I am the one who is causing the trouble.
It does make sense. As the observer, I cannot rule out my own bias in the matter; it does not consciously occur to me that I myself am the problem. I am an unknown agent in this world. My place is not established, whereas everypony in the city knows their place. I am upsetting the equilibrium; I am causing others pain, by very nature of my existence.
I look down from the edge of the cliff. It is approximately 247.2 meters high. I run a quick few calculations, and determine that the speed I gain from the fall will be sufficient to destroy my body. I will remove the root cause of these ponies’ suffering.
I pause momentarily to consider Twilight and Phase. I cannot help but conclude my termination will be difficult for them. But the needs of the many must outweigh the needs of the few. “I wish I could cry for you, Twilight.”
I leap from the cliff, and feel the false zero gravity of free fall. I wonder what it is like to die. I read several dissertations on the subject in my first days, as well as several hundred poems on the subject. My conclusion: ponies are as ignorant to the nature of death as an ant is to the nature of Luna’s constellations.
The sharp rocks below are rushing up to meet me at a slightly faster rate than anticipated. I may have failed to account for reduced drag at higher altitudes. I consider powering down just before the collision, then realize I have no reason to.
As I connect with the unforgiving ground, my once pristine body shatters. My core processor stays online long enough to be aware of everything going catastrophically wrong, then it too begins to fade as the emergency batteries die. The last thing I am aware of is a sense of relief that ponies will be more satisfied with my absence.