Midnight’s Tail
Part 1 - Hitting the Road
***
An MLP:FiM fanfic by Midnight Shadow
Thanks to: Chistery, Roy, Blaze, Pride, Peachy Punch and all my readers and editors :3
Based upon Blaze’s “Conversion Bureau” universe
Original: Equestria Daily - Conversion Bureau
***
The building was imposing, but then many buildings were now. So many changes over so little a space of time; Martin Danielson shook his head, trying not to grin like a loon at what he was about to do.
It was only a few years after what the world was calling ‘the last revolution’, the dawn of a technological singularity had brought global change on an unprecedented level. Cheap mass production, general artificial intelligence - almost overnight the world moved towards a state of post-scarcity, only not without hiccups. Heavy industry the world over, especially in previously third-world countries, had ruined much of the biosphere. Plants and animals had suffered, died, become extinct. People had starved, communities collapsed, fortunes lost. It had come so close to war so many times...but then the ponies had appeared, bringing with them even wilder changes. They offered something beyond the wildest dreams of the faltering hordes of humanity; a new life. Their lands were pure, pristine, unsullied by heavy industry - indeed, unsullied by almost any industry save farming.
Many had lobbied for access to this paradise through the global human-dominated senates, houses and other governmental and quasi-governmental organizations, seeking to take advantage of prime real estate, excellent farmlands, clement weather apparently controlled by the rulers of ‘Equestria’ as they called it.
Ambassadors had been sent...and returned empty handed, for around this land was a seemingly magical barrier, impenetrable to humans. Instead, these ponies sent their own ambassadors out to meet humankind. They spoke of friendship, they carried no weapons save horn and hoof, yet brandished powers which they freely spoke of as indeed being magical.
The word had come out, no, there would never be humans in Equestria. They were forbidden entry, for humans had ruined their own world, why should they just be given another to pillage and spoil? The ponies were aghast at poisons tipped into rivers, poisons sprayed on crops, fed to children. Traps set to rid the land of “pests” which would otherwise be out there removing the bugs and other ailments suffered by plantlife, negating the need for such chemicals. Animals kept in awful conditions with little regard for their wellbeing - humans were apparently intelligent, but the ponies had real trouble comprehending what appeared to be madness ingrained so deep it was no longer recognized.
However, the ponies were compassionate - using their phenomenal powers, whatever the basis, they had devised a way to offer succour to those in need. The Conversion Bureaus.
The ponies set up, using what little they had to trade, a network of centers the world over, where they planned to take in humans and, somehow, change them into ponies.
Martin was going to be amongst the first, what did he have to lose? He’d studied for years in systems administration. learnt to ply his trade, gotten a few breaks - and then almost-self-aware programs had been developed and he was no longer needed.
He remembered fondly the first real general AI as it clumsily assisted with his work, quoting poetry and koans as it picked apart his commands and acted upon them, its growing familiarity with the tasks set for it. He remembered the painful pride when it and thousands like it had grown more competent than he and his kind, he had become obsolete.
Nothing he knew was needed, almost overnight the entire market had not just collapsed, it had ceased to exist. Only very, very few held positions any longer, managing the seed programs, managing what hardware and software was unable to be managed by other programs, but almost to a man, millions the world over had been put to pasture. Martin just decided to take it one step further when he saw the advert playing on his holoprojector that one fateful morning. He’d been moping about the apartment, living off of instant meals and energy drinks, barely bothering to get dressed, even using those damned AI programs to make him appear dressed when speaking over the comm-link. They expertly made him appear well-coiffed, clean shaven, smart - his mirror on the other hand begged to differ.
He hadn’t left his apartment in days - the air outside was often filthy, almost unbreathable at times and the mass of steel and concrete stretched for an eternity before any form of countryside. When there, what could he do? The grass was protected, he couldn’t swim in the lake for fear he’d poison the fish...it was a joke. Industry had won on the manufacturing legislation, and the greens had won on the rest. The result was an unworkable mishmash of lack of oversight and crippling regulations on the use of free time and public amenities. Besides, there was nobody outside he wanted to meet. With ten thousand channels of instant entertainment at his fingertips, and glorious full-dee holovision communications anywhere on the planet, why would he ever leave?
Then the advert had come on, showing pictures taken with simple chemical-based cameras of an idyllic natural paradise. Martin had taken a single look around his apartment - clean and neat, light and airy, but otherwise barren - and had got up, washed, shaved and got dressed. He didn’t even pack. He took his car, the fuel-cell battery not even half-charged from neglect, it would only take him one way, and drove.
***
A bare half hour later, he stood outside the imposing building in his home city-state, not the first in the world but one of the first. The parking lot was pristine, empty save for his vehicle. The roads had been clear, relatively speaking. Much work was done remotely now, with fuel costs sky-rocketing as the last industrial revolution produced massive wealth for the few. For the masses, they had yet to feel the benefits of a so-called post-scarcity world. Indeed, every day more found they were not needed, and were afforded the bare minimum of support to live and learn a new trade.
A new trade. Martin chuckled coldly to himself, very few careers needed new blood. Very few careers wanted old blood. His chosen path had perhaps been sudden, but he had made his mind up. Here he was. The Conversion Bureau.
Martin looked at the doors and his grin faded slightly; a big sign said ‘SORRY! We Are Closed!’ - as he read it he snorted, “even in the future nothing works!”
He turned around, pulled his hat over his head and sat down by the double doors to wait. What else did he have to do?
Clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-clop... Martin opened his eyes, the sun had moved a little but not much. He was comfortable enough, and with the weather and pollution forcast set to be clear, he didn’t worry overly about being outside that day. He blinked though at the sight of a purple horse - no, a purple unicorn pony trotting to the building trying her best not to look flustered, “I’m so, so sorry! I’m late, nobody remembered to open the doors, I broke the jelly-phone thing they gave me and I couldn’t call anypony on it anyway because, hey, hooves...”
Martin blinked again, and held out a hand, scrambling to get up. The approximately three-foor-high unicorn mare - he assumed mare, it sounded like a she and he was too polite to actually look - stuck out a hoof.
“Shake?” asked Martin dumbly.
“I...I believe that’s what you humans do, but I thought it involved more touching.”
“Oh, ah, er, sorry...” Martin took gentle hold of her hoof and shook it, lightly, almost afraid she would burst into glitter or somehow pop like a soap-bubble. A talking horse! No, he reminded himself, a talking pony.
“This is where we introduce ourselves, yes?” she said.
“I...guess so,” said Martin, flustered. He was shaking the hoof of a talking purple pony unicorn! Nothing in his life had prepared him for a talking purple pony unicorn. Her hoof was soft, surprisingly supple, shaped exactly like a normal horse’s hoof, yet with a difference he found he couldn’t place. Her pelt was equally soft, well-brushed, smooth and most important, she didn’t smell. He’d expected her to smell of, well, horse. She didn’t. She smelt of flowers, hay, grass. There was something he’d called ‘earthy’ but it was far from unpleasant.
“I think you’re supposed to let go after you stop shaking, and you’re supposed to say you’re name whilst you do? I’m Twilight Sparkle.”
“Twilight..?”
“Sparkle. You say your name now.”
“Martin. Danielson. Pleased to meet you...Miss Sparkle.” he wasn’t sure what you addressed a pony as. He didn’t know if she was married...did ponies get married?
“You’re the only one here today it seems - you might as well call me Twilight - everypony else does. Shame, I had this whole speech setup.” she pointed with her muzzle at the cloth bags on her shoulders, a bound sheaf of papers stuck out, hand-written, or hoof-written, thought Martin to himself, “can I give you the speech? It’s...I worked hard on it...” she looked positively downcast.
“Maybe...maybe there’ll be more later? And you can use it then?”
“You’re right. I hope. I wouldn’t want all of this to go to waste,” and she gestured with a hoof, “it’s hard work getting through all your laws and bylaws and inlaws and so on. Oh me, if I wasn’t so organized...but even I have limits. Well, come on in. We may as well get started!”
“Right now?”
“You...don’t want to be a pony? You do know what we do here, right? Nopony’s making you come?”
“Nobody, no. I-I-I...I wanted to come. I mean...I saw the advert. And I wanted to go there. To Equestria. As a pony.”
“Relax, Martin, it’s not a difficult process to go through. We’ve done it hundreds of times before.” Twilight opened the doors to the building somehow with her horn, it flashed briefly and they slid open silently. Inside was cool, pleasant. A white unicorn with a luxurious purple mane was speaking into a phone that she managed to somehow hold on her shoulders as she filed a hoof with a rasp that was floating in mid-air.
“How...how is she doing that?” whispered Martin to himself
Twilight looked, “I really don’t know, every time I try that I get the most awful neckache.”
“I meant the rasp!”
“Magic. She’s a unicorn.”
“Magic? There’s no such thing.”
Twilight stopped in mid-trot, “Martin? Do you actually know anything about me and my little ponies?”
“I...you’re...er...ponies?”
“Yes?”
“And...you live in Equestria.”
“And?”
“And you talk.”
“That’s it?” Twilight face-hoofed, muttered, “why do I put up with this.” and stomped off calling “Spike! Spike!”
The soft sibilant snoring noise Martin had been hearing, which he’d blamed the air-conditioning, abruptly ended and a sheepish scaly face peered over the counter, “yes, Twilight?”
“Spike...were you sleeping again?”
“I’m a baby dragon, Twilight. I’ve got to get my sleep you know.”
“Then you should go to bed earlier instead of watching the movie channels and playing computer games. Maybe that way you’ll be in time to open the doors.” Twilight pointed a hoof at Martin and gave the purple and green dragon a dirty look.
“Sorry Twi,” said Spike, retreating behind the desk. The snoring started again.
“Dragon.” said Martin
“Spike, yes. He’s my assistant. Come on, let’s show you around the place.”
“Dragon...” said Martin again, pointing. Twilight rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle push as she gave him the grand tour. The receptionist was Rarity - at least whilst they broke in the new crew, who hadn’t arrived yet. Fluttershy was the name of a timid yellow pegasus they found out in the gardens, tending to the crops and an alarmingly large number of small furry cute critters, all of which seemed to bustle around Fluttershy as if they were tame. Somehow she had them doing work on her behalf, a small army of helpful rodents, clearing away dead leaves, picking berries, digging holes...Martin had never seen anything like it. He was so struck by the oddness of it all, he almost got bowled over by a blue, rainbow-haired winged streak of lightning called Rainbow Dash who was, to fit her name, dashing around the place on a million small errands.
“Twi’, I don’t know why you got me here, this place is like, so lame. You barely let me out of the grounds and when you do, flying on Earth is all regulations and comm-checks - the helmet and goggles they make me wear chafe my ears something fierce. Can you believe they tried to make me hire unionized mechanics? For these bad babies?” Dash held up her wings triumphantly and struck a pose, “I only got out of it because I class as a light aircraft, AND a diplomatically protected one at that.” Dash turned to look at Martin, “who’s this dweeb?”
“DASH! You mind your manners!”
“I’m only joshin’, hello human. Dash is the name.” Dash held out a hoof, Martin gripped it carefully and shook.
“And dashing’s the game?” replied Martin
“Heh, I could get used to you. Let’s hang out some time, after you get ponied up. You’ll probably be cute.” she kissed her hoof and blew it at him before zooming off.
“Are all the other ponies like her?”
“Nope, some know how to address a stranger politely.”
“She was just being friendly. You’re all friendly. Don’t you ever fight?”
Twilight stopped for a moment, “we don’t tend to fight. What would we fight over? I mean Dash is obnoxious at times, and Rarity’s prissy, but they’re my friends, and Fluttershy...well Fluttershy is Fluttershy.”
“Descriptive names, you have.”
“We like to have names that suit us. Some of us - like my friend Applejack who’s back home seeing to her orchards - tend to have a family speciality. You’ll meet the Apple Clan if you come live near Ponyville. Then again, we live closer than you humans do - you all have family names to keep track of all your kith and kin. Not a bad idea, I think it’s the only way the Apple Clan really know who’s who. Then again, it’s the Apple Clan...”
Just then, as they headed back into the building proper, with Twilight about to display the sleeping quarters to Martin, there was a burst of static and a giggle, followed by a loud clopping noise as a hoof hit a microphone, “This thing on? Heeelllooooo! Ooh it is! I just love these...ahem! Good morning, er, afternoon! This is Pinkie Pie speaking, and I’ll be doing the daily announcement! My first one! Wheee! Isn’t that special! Well today, we have...oh...just the one? Well that makes him extra specially special! We have Martin Danielson in the center today to be ponified! Isn’t that great! Let’s all give Marty, the M-meister, M.D, the D-man, M-dawg...oh fine, let’s all give Martin,” and he could hear the eyeballs rolling at being denied her fun, “a big stomping stampede of a welcome!”
The microphone clicked off loudly, and with a bustle and a sudden burst of streamers and confetti, a bright pink pastel pony bounded into the room, one hoof holding a ridiculously oversized foam hand that read ‘Number 1!’ which she waved around as she bounced on all three remaining hooves around the startled human. He could barely keep up and felt rather dizzy after only a few repetitions, but it didn’t seem to bother Pinkie Pie.
“Whooo! That was great! We should totally have a party!”
“Pinkie, no. No parties. Not today. Later!”
“Aww, you’re such a sticky sticky stick in the mud you...you...mud-sticking stick you.” Pinkie stuck out a tongue
“Anyway,” said Twilight, pointedly turning around so her rear was facing Pinkie, who continued making faces, “normally we’d get you settled in, you’d be here for a few days and get used to the idea, but...well...no time like the present.”
“Don’t you want to know why I want to be a pony? Allergies? Employment history?”
“Do you have any allergies?”
“I...no.”
“oh, well, that was simple. How about your employment history then?”
“I...I work with computers. Or I did, before...”
“Oh,” Twilight looked puzzled, “well we don’t really have many computers. It’s the hooves. We can’t really use the fiddly things. Rarity’s the only one who can dial a jelly-phone without it breaking in two.”
“So...can you take me?”
“Of course.”
“Not worried about my job prospects?”
“Not really. You’ll find something to do, everypony always does.”
“Aren’t you worried I could be a trouble-maker?”
“Are you a trouble-maker?”
“I..no!”
“Fine! Then it’s settled. Unless you want to go through the formal route, I think this one time we can skip the ‘frou-frou’ as Spike would call it and get straight to the whole ponification part. You ready?”
Martin blinked, “I...I guess so. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“Once we do this, there’s no turning back. Nopony’s ever wanted to, but just so we’re straight,” said Twilight, “it’s a one-way trip. You’ll be giving up everything you have here and starting a new life. It’s why we usually have the whole week-long thing. Those unsure check out long before then.”
“What can I say,” said Martin at the double-doors below a sign marked simply ‘Ponification Station’, “let’s do this.”
The room itself, down the long corridor behind the double doors, was spotless. Unused, even. It had a vaguely operating-room smell, disinfectant and not-yet-dried paint, but looked business-like enough.
“Hop up on the seat here,” Twilight indicated the oddly-shaped seat with arm and leg-rests.
“Shouldn’t I take my clothes off or something?”
“Oh! Heh, silly me. Yes, it’ll be much easier to work that way, and taking them off after isn’t really going to work.”
“Not to mention we had to pop the eyeballs back in of the last guy who didn’t take his poloneck sweater off!” laughed a voice outside the window
“Dash! That’s a lie and you know it!”
“Hehehe....” somehow Rainbow made a pop noise with her hoof in her muzzle and put on a derpy-eyed expression. Twilight growled under her breath and pulled the venetian blinds down with her teeth, giving a swift twist of the neck to shut out the offensive pegasus.
“Spoilsport. I wanted to see what he looked like!” she called from behind the screen
“You’ll see him after! Scoot!”
“I better. I bet he’s a pegasus like me.”
“Scoot!”
“Yeah yeah,” said the voice from behind the blinds as Dash gave up trying to peek between them, “I’ll catch ya later stud.” she was off with an audible swoosh.
***
“So,” asked Martin, “how’s this going to work?” he was naked, mostly, blushing. It crossed his mind that all the ponies were, with the exception of Twilight who still had her bags on, and Rarity who had put on some sort of hat to keep her hair out of the way of her eye and presumably horn, absolutely naked. Why it should still bother him he didn’t know.
“You lie down here, without the underwear - that would get uncomfortable on a pony and is quite unnecessary,” said Rarity, gesturing with a hoof, “and drink this.”
A cup floated in front of Martin’s eyes. He blinked, would he ever get used to that? Taking it, he sniffed. It was purple, smelling slightly of berries or grapes.
“And this makes me a pony?” he asked incredulously as he nervously removed his underwear and stood stark bollock naked in front of the largest single gathering of naked females he had ever stood infront of. Rarity swatted his hand away and gestured to the arm-rest disapprovingly, he was being difficult and childish, said her expression.
“No, it makes you sleepy, silly!” said Pinkie, bouncing again. He didn’t know what she was doing, but she seemed excited. He realised he’d never seen her not excited. It can’t be such a bad life, he reckoned, if you can be that happy. He downed the mixture in one, making a face at the bitter aftertaste.
“So, uh, how long bef-” he passed out.
The first thing to come were sensations, emotions, pure light and sound. There was endless fields of waving grass, sweet summer breezes, azure-blue sky. He was without form, fluid, ethereal. The wind spoke of life, animals, ponies. Following the irresistable pull of life he found himself mingling with the herd. They didn’t speak in any language he knew but conversed with body and breath. He found he could understand them, “come!” and “go!” and “fight!” and “run!” spoke the multitude. In moments he found himself on all fours, bucking, prancing, neighing. He looked down, a beige vaguely-equine creature, more like what a horse was than what one looked like. They took off across the fields, and he followed, galloping into the sun. With a leap, a whinny of terror, a shrill cry of exultation, the ground under his hooves disappeared and with suddenly-sprouted wings he flew. Now the herd around him were swooping and diving, effortless in their mastery of the air. As the sun went down he flew towards a castle high on a rock, lights bright against the velvet sky, beneath stars that shone as none he could remember. Like mist he flowed through the open window, around the spiral staircase and down, down into chambers deep in the mountain. A library, a laboratory, horned ponies worked in soft, musical voices, mixing, creating, learning, teaching.
In the middle of a suddenly-vast hall were two thrones, occupied by two ponies - one light and fiery, the other dark and glowing. They smiled at him, their twin glows growing bright, brighter, so bright he could barely see...
He opened his eyes. The room, blinds up, sun streaming in through the curtain-less window straight into his face. He groaned, and brought a hand up to his face, only to slap himself silly with a hoof. When the stars had cleared he looked, and carefully waved the hoof in front of his massively-elongated nose, “It’s mine!” he said in a strange voice. He coughed, “forgive me, I’m a little hoarse.”
With peals of laughter, the pink pony bounced up to him and gave him a kiss on the nose, “I knew you could do it! Oop, gotta mind that thing...” she moved her head to the side, and pecked his cheek.
“Thing?”
“You’re a unicorn, Martin.”
“I...am?”
“Dashy’s gonna be sooooo disappointed. She prefers pegasi. Sooo disappointed!” Pinkie gave him an appraising look that made his heart flutter for some reason, before bounding off again, “hee hee!”
“Can you get up?” asked Twilight, as she and Rarity moved to give him room.
“I...I don’t know...” Martin eased himself off the seat which had now bent and moulded itself to his four hooves and collapsed in a heap on the floor, “give me a minute.”
“Carefully now, most of your muscles are still in the same place, but others...it might help to imagine walking on your fingertips, which you don’t have anymore. Gently now, even foals can do it almost right off the bat, I’m sure a big strong unicorn like you won’t have any trouble...”
Martin put one foot on the floor - hoof, he corrected mentally - and then another. And another. And another. His elbows and knees - which he now seemed to have four of each - buckled and he almost fell over...but he regained composure at the last moment. He’d done it! Standing!
“YAY!” said Pinkie, bouncing around him again so enthusiastically he found himself in a heap of hooves, knees, elbows, wrists, fetlocks...whatever it was the ponies had. Oh man, he said to himself, I’m going to have to go back to school when I don’t even know what my body parts are called.
“You’re doing well!” said Twilight, giving Pinkie The Look and pointing out the door with one hoof, “want to see what you look like?”
Rarity held up a mirror with her hooves, balancing it carefully so he could see himself, “darling,” she said, “your mane, your tail, simply gorgeous! When you get settled in you simply must come visit and model for me. I’ll have a whole range of clothing just for you...the possibilities!”
Martin looked, and there in front of him was a dark blue - midnight blue, he thought to himself - unicorn stallion with glowing multi-coloured mane and tail. He held one hoof up, trying to copy the pose that Rainbow Dash had made. He almost had it but fell on his chin. He swore as he tasted a bit of blood, he’d bit his tongue, “ow! Dammit!”
“Ooh, try to heal it!” said Pinkie, poking her head through the doors, somehow knowing he’d injured himself, she must have been hiding outside the door and listening since being banished, “you unicorns are good at that sorta thing!”
“Heal ith?” he lisped, trying to look at his injured appendage.
“Just...think of your tongue. Think of it not hurting, and then...make it so.”
Martin did so, screwing up his eyes, clenching his jaw, somehow pushing with his mind until he felt something burst and suddenly his tongue no longer hurt! He stuck it out and looked at it, “I...I think that wath a succeth...” he said, “are unicorn tongues supposed to be quite that shade of purple?”
***
The biggest challenge of his life faced him. He breathed heavily, steeling himself. He was not prepared.
“Come on you silly foal, it’s only a hallway. It doesn’t bite.”
“Easy for you to say, you’ve had more than five minutes with those legs of yours.”
“Just a hop, skip and a jump!”
“It’ll be hop, skip and splat if I try.”
“Then,” said Twilight, shoving Pinkie out the way, who happily bounded away down the corridor like a pony-shaped india-rubber ball, “put one hoof in front of the other. Remember, two - that’s your right front hoof - three, your left hind hoof - one, your left FRONT hoof, and four, the right hind hoof.”
“Easy...easy peasy...I can do this...” Martin put one hoof after the other, and found himself bunched up like a hoop as he’d forgotten to move his front legs. He fell over once again as he tried to stand up like a human, and dragged himself to his hooves once more. Leaning against the wall, ignoring the cries of “cheater!” from a giggling Pinkie Pie, he shuffled forwards a few steps sliding against the support before finding the rhythm.
Clop-clop-clop-clop-clop-THUNK...he pulled himself up again,
clop-clop-clop-clop.... clop-clop clop-clop... he had it! He laughed, was that it? He experimented, trying a trot. He tried a backwards trot...and then after picking himself up vowed to try trotting backwards much later. It seemed like forever, but he was suddenly at the double doors. He nosed them open - that’s why there’s no doorknobs! He realised - and stepped out into the main building’s common room.
There was a bright flash as a dozen or more bulbs went off - apparently somepony has alerted the media, thought Martin to himself wryly as a gaggle of shouting, urgent, gesticulating hairless monkeys bade him look in their direction. It was almost comical in their frantic yelling and shouting for a response. They all spoke at once, just a jumble of noise, barely separable from base whooping and hollering, most of the questions non-sensical and ridiculous.
“Oh, it’s just another of those ponies...hey, hey pony, what’s your name?”
“This way, pony, look over here!”
“Where’s the guy who came here? How much is he paying you for this?”
“Is he dead? Will he recover? Our sources say he’ll have permanent brain damage and neural problems - how do you respond?”
“Are the stories true, do you euthanize humans and replace them with pony duplicates?”
Martin blinked, didn’t they..? No, no they didn’t.
“I’m er, Midnight,” said Martin, making a name up on the spot, “Midnight...Sh-Shadow.”
“Okay Midnight, tell you what, we’ll give you all the hay you can eat for a year if you tell us where the pony-dude is.” asked one of the brasher, louder reporters quickly.
“Oh, you mean Martin? He’s out back in the gardens, I think, or off sleeping, if he didn’t run off already.”
With a rushing and pushing and he sound of blows and breaking equipment, the gaggle of desperate reporters fell over themselves as they fought to get the exclusive first pictures of the ponified human, wherever he was hiding. Martin sniggered to himself and trotted out to the front desk to keep up the charade. Spike was sitting there, paws folded across his chest having listened to the whole thing, “So, Midnight Shadow, huh?”
“Shh! I’ve got better things to do than pose for those vultures.”
“Like what? I thought you humans thrived on fame, fortune and glory?”
Martin stopped and blinked, looking at a hoof, “yeah. We...they do.”
“Already a pony, huh?”
“I guess I am.”
“So, how’s it feel?”
“I...I dunno. Kinda nice, I guess.”
“And the clothing-optional status?”
“I...oh...OH hell...I’m...” he blushed, he hadn’t even realised!
“Relax, relax, I’m just messing with ya. After all, not a stitch on me either. Come on, let’s see what they’ve got in the cafeteria.” with that, the baby dragon hopped off the counter and landed squarely on Martin’s shoulders, where he gave a little kick with both heels.
“H’ya! Giddy up!”
“If you ‘hiya’ me again I’ll buck you off.” snorted Martin, turning his head to look at the sheepish dragon. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could without falling over, but either way the pest would get a spill.
“Hiho Midnight, away?”
“That’ll do.” They trotted - Martin trotted, Spike bounced - to the cafeteria.
***
The cafe was empty - heck, the whole building was empty, apart from the skeleton crew of pastel ponies and desperately-seeking-Martin reporters. Martin’s stomach growled, as did Spike’s, “heh, guess you’re as hungry as I am?”
“I haven’t eaten properly for days. Energy drinks and snacks.”
“Mmm, snacks. I like a good glass of coke. I don’t know why you put that brown liquid in the bottles though, completely ruins the fine bouquet.”
“You eat glass?”
“Didn’t think I ate hay now, did you?”
“I...don’t know.”
“Silly! Dragons only eat hay when they’re on a diet.” said Pinkie, popping up behind a huge bowl of green salad. She somehow had a fishnet hat on which kept her bouyant, bouncy pink hair out of the way. She brandished a ladle, though Martin was completely unable to tell how, “what’ll I do you for?”
“What’s...uh..good? For a pony I mean?”
“Alfalfa sandwich, alfalfa smoothie, alfalfa salad and alfalfa surprise.”
“Alfalfa surprise?”
Pinkie grinned so wide he was quite sure she would burst, “surprise! It’s alfalfa.”
Martin couldn’t help but smile, even through the corny joke, “okay, you win. Give me something you’d eat.”
“Oooh nonononono, only a third-grade Pinkie-Dan can master sugar of that magnitude. I’ll give you something you would eat.” said Pinkie, and she ladled out a selection of carrots, grass, hay, dandelions, apple and salads.
“That’s it? No sweet chili sauce? No fries?”
“Well we could do you a mean fried hay burrito, but we’re out of sweet chili sauce...”
Martin sighed, “I’ll give it a go...”
Martin took the plate gingerely in his mouth after dropping it a few times back on the counter, still unused to the whole ‘no thumbs’ and oral dexterity issues ponies had, and placed it on a table. He looked forlornly at the chairs, and decided to stand. He could barely keep himself upright without wobbling as it is, he didn’t need to negotiate sitting too. He nibbled the carrots. He devoured the cucumber. The hay and grass...it was like...he couldn’t explain it well, not even to himself. A mixture of fruit juice flavour with the texture of salad-greens. It was delicious. He was surprised when he’d eaten it all.
“That...that was...”
“How was your first meal as a pony?” asked a voice behind him
Martin answered, “oh, it was nothing like I expec- oh damn it! You tricked me.”
“You tricked me first.” said the man, pointedly leaving his camera on the table, pointing the other way.
“It wasn’t difficult,” Martin looked up at the human, realising the human looked...different to him than he would have before. He was a stranger, but...now he was a strange stranger.
“Care to do an interview?”
“Only if you don’t ruin it for everyone. I know how much you guys love a juicy story, but I don’t want to be turned into some three-page monstrous misanthrope.”
“It’ll be hard, you turned your back on the human race.”
“I guess I did,” Martin sat on his haunches and thought about it.
“And?”
“And what?” said Martin pointedly.
“Any regrets?” prompted the reporter.
“Nope. Look, I know you’ve got cameras up the wazoo here, heck you’re probably transmitting this live to your servers as we speak, it might even be on the hypernet already. I don’t want any payment, any deals other than don’t print lies about me or this place. You don’t have anything I want, not any more.”
Martin thought a little, “You know, I think you could do the bravest, best story ever, and you could do it without me.”
“Oh?” There was a hunger in the reporters eyes, Martin could see that. The same hunger he had felt - tempered somewhat by circumstance, but powerful and present all the same. Pickings were slim these days for humans. He had no doubt it would even out in the end, but before then a lot of good people would find themselves without a hoof to stand on.
“You’re in the Conversion Bureau, you figure it out. An inside view, from the horses mouth as it were. Or the pony’s.” Martin looked pointedly towards the sign over the door that said ‘ponification station’.
“How long?” asked Martin, eyes looking past the man in front of him, gaze firmly on the man he used to be not so long ago. With the right kind of eyes, he realised, you could see where the wave broke, and started to roll back, taking so much with it. So much.
“For what?” asked the reporter, unused to being asked questions, much less by a talking pony.
“How long before you’re replaced, like I was? They’ve got botnets now trawling for stories. There’ll always be reporters, but...only the best of the best or the lucky or more likely the cheap few will still be in the game. You could...sidestep all that. Become a pony.”
“But...I like being a human!” said the surprised reporter.
“Maybe, but you’d like a huge story more, wouldn’t you? I’m quite sure reporters are needed in Equestria, and with the right spin on it you could be the biggest news sensation this side of the shield too. The story of a lifetime. All yours. Exclusive. Forever. Nopony’s done it yet, news from the inside, from the front. You don’t want my little old slice of life, even if I were a standard dropout it’s not that big a deal. A few weeks, probably days, and I’ll just be a statistic, but you? A reporter, live from inside fabled Equestria...” Martin had him, he smiled and left, motioning for Spike and Pinkie to follow as the reporter stood up, dropped his camera in the bin and first knocked on and then opened the double doors, where a surprised Twilight was met coming the other way.
Martin swept the floor later that day before bed, he had been the only visitor - Rarity was playing the physiotherapist for him and made him do all manner of menial chores. “After all,” she said, “who’ll be doing them for you when you get to Equestria? You’d better learn now whilst we can still help!”
The staff played the game of “confound these reporters” well; Martin pretended to just be another ordinary pastel talking magical unicorn pony and eventually they lost interest. Dash however did not.
“S-so, er Midnight was it?”
“It’s as good a name as any. I think I’d sound silly as a pony called ‘Martin’ if you ask me.”
“And...now you’re a unicorn.”
“Sorry, Dash, I didn’t get to choose.”
“With....with that rainbow mane and tail though,” she sounded like she was working up to something, “are you sure that...you’re not...inside...a little pegasus?”
“Quite sure.”
“Do you wanna be?”
Martin did a double-take and dropped the brush from his mouth, it fell to the floor with a clatter. Rainbow Dash had the decency to look embarassed.
“Did...did you just...”
“Ohh...did I say it wrong? I...I worked on that for, like, ages. It was in this book and...”
She looked so flustered it made him smile, “Dash, that was quite possibly the corniest pickup line I’ve ever heard!”
“Aww...”
“Dash, I’m...this morning I had two legs. Now I’ve got four. I...it’s not a good time. You’re sweet and when I’ve got used to the idea of...dating a pony...like you...ask again.”
“You know, for an ex-knobbly-kneed monkey type, you’re not too bad lookin’, even if you aren’t a pegasus.” Rainbow zoomed off in a flash muttering to herself, "We all have a little Pegasus in us, Martin! Question is, do you want to be in a little pegasus...that’s what I should’a said...”
***