Falling from a height felt very strange, especially when compared to falling from, say, tripping on a leg that had happened to me before. The way that my legs kicked uselessly, the way my body tumbled, the way that the air buffeted my coat: that was all very unfamiliar to me. I had even stopped screaming, almost accepting of my fate.
My eyes widened at the sight of a feathery white wing.
Something broke my fall—something hard, something hairy. With a grunt, I blinked in confusion as I looked about; a mess of fluttering coloured hair was right in front. It moved to the side to reveal the defined muzzle of Celestia.
“Are you alright?” I heard her say, her features the epitome of concentration. Still somewhat dazed, I nodded vaguely. I was still wondering how she had managed to sweep in and stop my fall. A look below showed that I hadn’t much more to fall before I hit the water. The sea foam and waves looked awfully close.
“Good,” the alicorn muttered, an edge to her voice. She gave a grunt of effort as she worked her wings to flap harder, gaining altitude with each beat of the wings. The chariot was nowhere in sight. I almost asked the princess where it was, when I noticed that none of the pulling team was tethered. All eight Guards were airborne, but looked as if they were struggling to maintain their flight. A catatonic earth pony, his eyes bulging out of his sockets, was being precariously carried by three Guards.
I chuckled in spite of myself: so much for Presumptive’s impenetrable mask.
A Guard approached us, huffing from the effort. “Princess, some-something’s wrong.” His breath was heavy with fatigue. “It’s like… like we’ve grown—heavy!” He didn’t sound or looked panicked, but worry was definitely in his tone. I felt every contraction of Celestia’s muscles for each beat of the wings; they felt very stiff.
“Drop your helmets and, if you can, your armour.” The mare’s voice contained worry, but it didn’t feel as if it was as if she was concerned with herself. “And make for that ship, it’s closer than the barrier now!”
An affirmative nod. Breathing in a lungful of air, he shouted the command to his fellow pegasi, and swooped down the approaching metal ship.
From afar, I could see commotion on the landing strip. Humans —actual humans!— were rushing to and fro, with some gathering in small clusters. These last humans pointed, gawking at the curious sight, only for them to clear the path when they realized that we were coming in to land.
Celestia swept downwards to the strip, leveling her wings. She made contact, galloping slightly as momentum carried her forwards by several hooves. I felt every hooffall reverberating as she slowed. The Guards came in tow, landing less-than-gracefully: the three that held Presumptive almost tumbled onto the platform. I winced at the sight of them growling in pain as their bodies rubbed against the surface. It took a moment and a considerable amount of will for me to unwrap my legs from Celestia’s barrel and get off of her.
My hooves resounded with a distinct clack upon setting hoof on the ground. Ship, I mentally corrected. Odd, mainly since from afar, every part of the ship seemed to be made out of metal, but the airstrip itself had an odd rock-like texture. Under my hooves, I could feel creases that almost felt natural with an almost sand-like composition. That's why those three pegasi and Presumptive had nasty friction burns.
Why was I worrying about semantics and what I was actually standing on now? Humans —humans!— were close by. Taking a good look, I could now see how… odd they were.
In two words, these humans were familiarly alien. Bipeds, like ancient descriptions depicted them, they stood on their hind legs (their only legs), while their frontal limbs were spindly arms, both like and unlike a minotaur’s beefier arms. Like in the photograph, they did not have much hair, with the notable exception of their scalps, which seemed uniformly cut, unlike the two humans in the photograph. These humans, like those in the picture, had skin and flesh in the stead of a coat of fur or feathers. A quick glance told me that the colour of the skin varied: anything from pinkish-white to dark-brown. No tail that I could see, but they were tall regardless, some looked to be twice my height; most seemed to average at eight hooves. They were, very much, gangly, hairless, and ape-like versions of minotaurs.
They covered themselves in brightly coloured vests—many in yellow, blue and green, some in white, purple and brown, and there was even one in red. Under the vests were a long-sleeved shirt or jumper and —what’s the word?— trousers, both a dark blue that was almost black, with helmets that were the same respective bright colour as the vest that they wore. Over their eyes was some sort of mask that reminded me of goggles that covered their eyes and nose.
They were running. My mind blanked for a second as I looked at the fleeing humans heading either for the tower on the side of the ship or for spots on the airstrip. They were running from us: us, who were considerably outnumbered. Perhaps they were shy? Humans weren’t described as being shy (there really wasn’t anything about how they acted, in fact), and it surprised me that they were deliberately avoiding us.
A disembodied voice emanated from somewhere. It sounded like it came from the tower, but it almost sounded that it came from all over the ship. The words were foreign, harsh, guttural yet fluid; the language was completely unintelligible to us. Well, to me at least.
“Form a perimeter around the Princess and the civilians,” a Guard barked. Turning to see our delegation, I saw that many of the Guards had discarded their helmets, revealing their ocean-blue manes. One had somehow managed to remove his full armour, bare with the exception of his armoured shoes. They, along with Presumptive, were quiet, although he was trying to make head and tails of the humans’ retreat. The Guards were attentive for anything unpleasant.
As my eyes flicked over to Celestia, she herself appeared unsure. Her face didn’t betray her, but her eyes glanced this way and that, herself observing these strange beings. She closed her eyes and her horn glowed with magic. The aura soon faded, and she looked about. “I wonder...” I heard her say underneath her breath, before turning to Presumptive at his side. “What do you make of this, Presumptive?”
“I’m not sure,” he said plainly, pushing his glasses up. He looked at the cluster of humans suddenly descend into the belly of the ship, taken below by a moving platform. A great whirr emanated from the platform as the humans disappeared from sight. It then grew quiet. “It doesn’t look like they’re afraid of us,” the stallion shook his head for emphasis, “no, they didn’t exclaim nor appear disorderly. Seemed almost as if they were performing an evacuation drill.”
“An evacuation drill?” I repeated, the quizzical tone in my question evident. “For what? Is there a fire or something?” I almost hit myself with my hoof as I realized what a silly question that was. “I mean, I know it’s us, but they looked huge! And many! They didn’t have any reason to worry about us.”
Belief opened his mouth to reply, only to leave it opened, his brow knitting in a mixture of worry and surprise. He pointed at me. “There’s… something on your...”
I looked at him nonplussed. Then I spied something: a red dot dancing on his nose. “You’ve got a dot on you!”
He went crosseyed trying to see it on his snout. His eyes went wide. “You too.” His gaze went to the alicorn, only for it to grow worried. “Your majesty… you have one on as well.”
In fact, as I looked at her, she actually had three dots twitching at her face. As one went into her violet eyes, she blinked instinctively. She looked about. In a low voice, she said, “We’re surrounded.”
I looked back—not a soul but us was on the airstrip. Where did she see…?
A glint of red made me squint my eye in reflex. It came from the tower. Dark figures that weren’t there before sat perched behind cover on the tower. Another whirr: instead of the brightly dressed humans, these humans wore dark colours, producing the same points of red light. As the platforms that they were on came to a stop, they began to move furtively, some staying still, still producing that light.
They covered themselves in strange garments, one of which reminded me of camouflage used by dragon watchers, except the patterns were infinitely more intricate and random. The scheme reflected the maritime use, as it was composed of blues and grays. Many wore vests with innumerable pouches, caps and —what’s the word?— trousers with this colour pattern, along with shiny black boots. On these camouflaged vests, I could see a gold insignia of what looked to be an eagle with lettering that I didn’t recognize. Some didn’t have the caps but helmets, some didn’t have either, others still wore only a dark blue shirt.
Their approach was shady at best, and their movements did not look friendly. “Forward defensive chevron!” the unarmored pegasi ordered, and the Guards formed a forward jutting line ahead of us, adopting an aggressive stance. The approaching humans did stop, but it didn’t look as if it was the Guards’ defense that made them stop. They still produced those red points of light—scratch that, metal tools. These long tubes with many handles and, well, things, attached to them had what looked like a smaller tube below the end pointed towards us that produced that light. What were these things? Was this their means to communicate with us or to intimidate? I certainly felt intimidated.
Like Celestia had said, we were well and truly surrounded. I glanced at Presumptive; he was looking at me with a worried frown. What are they doing? I mouthed. Along with a wide-eyed stare, he gave me the smallest of shrugs. Helpful.
“Stand down,” Celestia ordered in a cool voice. Reluctantly, the Guards obeyed, making themselves less aggressive, and parted to allow their regent to step forwards. Now a lot of the red dots were on her, at least one of them in every frontal part of her body. She stood fast against the aliens, not looking the slightest bit worried.
This was a very awkward and very tense atmosphere. Had these humans been an audience of mine, I would probably have walked out instead of performing.
“Greetings,” Celestia said in a loud, clear voice.
The reaction to this was immediate: exclamations—small yells, yips and yelps of surprise and shock were clearly audible as some humans clutched at their heads.
But I heard something else as well—words reverberated in my own head. Too many to understand them all, but I heard a few whats, hecks and ruttings. Others just faded with the amounts of words I kept hearing. I flinched at the mental noise and so did some of the others. Rutting? That probably wasn’t the right word, if it was an expletive then it would have made more sense were it a Griffon or Minotaur curse word. Equestriani tended to be too ‘nice’, and it had adopted foreign words when it came to swearing.
One of the humans scrunched up one of his hands into a ball —fist?— as a clear means of non-verbal communication.
Undaunted, Celestia went on, “I am Princess Celestia, and this is my entourage.” She bowed her head with no small amount of grace. “We come in peace.”
I mirrored her gesture, doing a small curtsy. Not quite the same as greeting an audience while at a stage, but it wasn’t terribly different. Presumptive followed the example and bowed as well. Only the Guards didn’t bow, maintaining their position instead.
Silence was the response. Curious glances and stares were all that the humans did. None of them said anything, nor did we.
“Being I inebriating or something?”
I blinked. Huh. Not the response I was expecting. It was almost funny, if the translation was correct.
“Shutting your mouth, Kah-dlek!” barked the human who had made the gesture with his hand. “Securing your weapons now—standing down.”
My lips tightened somewhat as I saw their arms lowering the tubes. Were those things weapons? Either the spell wasn’t doing its job, or their concept of weapons must’ve been vastly different from ours. The uniformed beings stood down, keeping their wary gazes on us. I recognized that look; it was the sort of look somepony gave when they suspected that someone else was lying.
“Are you the leader of this ship?” Celestia tried, referring to the one who had just spoken.
Now on the spot, the human seemed flustered for a response. “I being not leader,” it managed to say, before some commotion from behind parted the wall of humans.
Approaching us now was another group of humans, a number of the camouflaged carrying different tubes, similar to the same ‘weapons’ that the others carried. They were escorting two humans, both dressed in what I guessed was a ceremonial dark-blue uniform. They both wore white peaked caps with golden embroidery and polished shoes, unlike the boots that the others wore. On one side of their chest were a number of buttons and bars of different colours, one of the humans having more than the other.
They approached cautiously, and one spoke up: “What being happening?” The tall one with more of the decorations on his chest looked with disbelief at us. “What being you?”
“I am Princess Celestia,” the alicorn repeated, “and we come from the land of Equestria,” she pointed to the barrier, “the land within that barrier over there.” She turned back to the human. “Who are you, and who do you represent?”
The human looked nonplussed. The one to the side glanced at him. When he regarded Celestia, I almost expected him to stay planted on the spot, his glasses —they used glasses as well? Interesting— shining dully with the reflection of the sun. He righted himself, twisting his right arm and bringing his hand to his temple, flat palm, facing down—startlingly similar to a Royal Guard salute, with more hand and less hoof.
“Lesser-admiral Loo-ch Ar-chee-bahld Boh-ski, United States Navy,” he said automatically, voice unwavering. “You being aboard the United States’ Ship Geh-rawld Ar Fawrd.” The self-proclaimed officer then stood to attention. Much to his apparent surprise, Celestia returned the salute with her own. The Guards immediately followed suit.
“My thanks for allowing us onboard,” Celestia told the navy human, lowering her saluting forehoof, “I can imagine this is quite the surprise for you.”
The lesser-admiral (probably meant something else) blinked, before giving a slow yet very pony-like nod. “We… doing not expecting flying small large-ponies appearing, that being for sure.” Small large-ponies? The human language must have been really different from our own if whatever he said had come out as that in Equestriani. “How being you able to speaking In-gleesh?”
“I’m not.” Celestia smiled warmly. “But my spell allows for us to communicate, if imperfectly.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Spell?” He had muttered the word in his language, but what I heard in my head was loud and clear. Before the princess could explain, he turned to the other officer, the one with less badges and ribbons, and asked quite clearly, “Doing I hearing that right?”
His fellow naval officer gave a shrug not very different from the one that Belief had given me earlier. “I thinking that it– she, meaning magic,” he suggested.
Magic? Unless the spell was botching the meaning up, that meant that humans were at least familiar with the idea. Did that mean that they used it? It would go against the ancient idea of humans.
But the remark garnered some reaction from some of the camouflaged humans—mostly scoffs. “Manure,” I heard one say plainly. He was promptly given a chastising glare from the one whom Celestia had first spoken to.
“Yes, magic,” the alicorn affirmed. “Do you know of it?”
“Yes...” Looch —what a name!— slowly said. “But, where you coming from? That land, that”—he pointed to the barrier—“thing being not there before. What being it? Where doing it coming from?”
“It’s a forcefield,” Celestia explained, “it covered much of our land and it carried it over here, into your world, and with my people on it.” She looked out into the horizon, which was obstructed by the other human ships. “This world is very much different from our own, I feel,” she said, focusing on the lesser-admiral again. “We’re surprised about your existence as much as you are with ours.”
The human nodded once more. His eyes lit up suddenly. “Sorry,” he said abruptly, “but I should not being talking to you: I being not qualified for this situation.” He snorted. “No one on world being. You must understanding, this is a first time we encountering new species.”
My eyebrow piqued at that. No other species? Did that mean that they were alone in this world?
The princess blinked before nodding herself. “I see. Do you have someone who I could speak to?”
He shook his head. “Not aboard here,” he said. “I first need to speaking with my superiors about this. Maybe they finding someone. It may being a while before they doing, though.” The officer looked over to his lesser officer, nodding. The other human scowled, but nodded as well. “Until then, you being welcome to staying onboard.”
“My thanks,” Celestia immediately said.
The human brought up a finger. “But you will not doing anything we tell you not to doing,” he warned. “You will not going anywhere on this ship without an escort. You may asking questions you may having, but we may not answering them. Understanding?”
I frowned slightly at the conditions. Control freaks, much? Well, they were military, so if they were anything like the Royal Guard, they liked to have things under their terms and control.
“Very well, I understand.” Celestia offered a warm smile and her hoof. The human looked at it, as if he didn’t know what to make of it. Slowly, he took hold of it with his hand, not quite how a pony would have, and shook it. He smiled as well.
“I welcoming you, in the name of the United States of Ah-meh-ree-kah.”
My eyes opened with a start. I breathed in quickly and shallowly, as if I had been holding my breath for a long while. My eyes darted about: books, desk, shelves. I was lying on something soft—a lime-green bean chair. I was in a study, Lyra’s study. I blinked profusely. Did I just doze off? Was that a weird dream? It felt so lifelike.
The sight of an orb at the desk dispelled that theory. The polypuzzle mockup glistened with the twisting mists on the reflection on its surface. Memory orb, I remembered, I manipulated the first piece and…
The pieces fell into place in my mind. I thought back to what I had just experienced, then back to when I tried using the orb.
A grin slowly formed in my face. Crystal, my boy, you've just found the answer to your troubles.
