Moments

by Bad Horse


The others

“When did you say this thing is gonna hit us?” Rainbow asks.

“In about ten minutes,” I say. It took extra time to gather everyone in the library, but I’m hoping they’ll find the familiar surroundings comforting.

They all look at me expectantly, except Rarity, who’s staring off into space with her mouth slightly open. Even in shock she looks graceful, as if she were about to take a dainty morsel from a tiny silver fork.

“Relax,” I say. “We’re not going to do anything this time. I just want your opinions.”

This time?” Rainbow asks.

“It’s complicated,” I say. “But we’ll have twenty-three minutes to do whatever you come up with, starting from thirteen minutes ago.”

They look at each other, then back at me.

“Okay,” Applejack says, “I believe you. I’ve seen crazier than that.”

“But… didn’t you say we’re all going to… die?” Rarity asks. “I distinctly recall you saying something to that effect.”

“Flaming mountains will fall from the sky. The air will burn. Lakes will boil away. There'll be earthquakes, floods, and tsunamis. Ash will fill the sky, and after the planet stops burning it will be winter for a hundred years. So, yes.”

“Oh.” She holds the “O” after the breath is gone. “So… what, exactly, do you want our opinions on?”

“On how Ponyville should spend those last twenty-three minutes,” I tell them all.

They look at each other again, then back at me.

Except Pinkie. "Well, duh!" she says to us all. "Don't you know the phrase, 'party like it's the end of the world'? Only now it'll actually be the end of the world!"

She's got a point.

“Um,” Fluttershy begins. She's taking it surprisingly well. "So, maybe ponies won’t survive. But what about the others?”

“The others?” I ask.

She nods. “Like… fish. Little fishies deep down in the ocean. Or oysters. Or ants.”

“Oh… Fluttershy, I’d never even thought of that.” I hang my head. I’m not just a Princess of Ponies. I’m supposed to be a Princess of Equestria. All of it. All of them, I correct myself.

I do some quick mental calculations. Oysters? No; they’re coastal. Deep-water fishes? Possibly, but they’re not adapted to temperature changes. Will shellfish extinction change the water’s acidity? Oxygen content will diminish. Salinity will increase after the geologic upheaval. Ants? Only if they eat fungi, and have a ready supply. But what will the fungi eat? My mind goes into overdrive, and I start over, running through the taxonomic possibilities in chronological order. Bacteria? Algae? Mold? Rotifers? Angiosperms?

“What about dragons?” Spike asks.

Twelve pony eyes stare at him, including my own.

He looks down and drags one clawed foot across the floor. “Well… we’re pretty tough. Fire can’t hurt us. If it gets too cold, we just slow down, or hibernate. And we don’t need plants. We eat gems.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. A moments’ reflection says it’s not possible: In fifteen minutes, Ponyville will be under three miles of rock, and the winds above it will be twenty-thousand miles an hour and burning hotter than the sun. But until now, I hadn’t even thought about it. Thousands of cycles, and I never thought of anything but ponies. I’m not just a terrible Princess of Equestria. I’m a terrible friend.

I wrap a wing around Spike and pull him to me, more to comfort me than him. “Oh, Spike. I’m sorry, Spike. But there won’t… there won’t even be oxygen, Spike. Not for years.”

He lets out a breath. “That’s kind of a relief,” he says with a weak grin.

“What about trees?” Applejack asks grimly. “Can ya save my trees?” Mouth set, eyes sharp. I’ve seen her look at an aphid infestation with that expression.

I hear shouting in the streets outside. The others hurry to the windows. “Time’s up,” I say. “Thank you all. I think this has been a very productive meeting. I’ll see you again in fifteen minutes.” I stand and summon what magic I’ve gathered since I arrived, pulling it into my horn—