//------------------------------//
// The Experiment 
// Story: ROBoCORN 
// by Abronymous Lee 
//------------------------------//

     I was born in Canterlot about 15 years before Nightmare Moon's return. At age six, my parents enrolled me in Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Although Twilight Sparkle was her student at the time, Princess Celestia sometimes would come over and watch me practice my magic. A few years after Nightmare Moon, Celestia said to me that I could be one of the most powerful warlocks she had ever seen. As the years passed and I grew older, Celestia gave me some tips to help me with my magic. Then one day, Celestia's guards came in with a donkey. All I heard before being ushered out of the room was "science" and "secluded environment." When the Princess finally came out afterward, she told me to pack my bags. I was to go with the donkey and observe exactly what he was doing.
Little did I know that we were being sent to the moon. I'll spare the details about the trip.
For the first few days on the moon, I tried to settle in. I kept notes about every "test", as the donkey called them. I learned that his name was Cranky Doodle donkey, and that he had been doing this in Equestria for years. He said that when he got too big, Celestia had felt a need to get rid of him.
As the weeks wore on, the testing grew more and more routine. I stopped monitoring each individual test. Cranky even let me design two or three tests. Everything was good. That is, until Cranky caught me napping. Right then, he decided that I should be doing science with him, not watching him do all the work.
That day, I lost half of myself in more ways than one.
I awoke to find myself strapped into a hospital bed. Cranky was standing over me, saying something about "a great leap in science." I struggled against my bonds, but to no avail. Then I tried to use my magic to free myself. I focused everything I had into the spell, but it was all for naught. My horn had been broken off.
I asked the medical staff what they were going to do to me. Everypony I asked stayed silent. So I just lay there, wondering what plans Cranky had made for me.
When the procedure began, I nearly fainted. Nearly. A doctor had injected me with a shot of adrenaline, keeping me awake. Several surgeons stood around me. One pulled out a scalpel and made several incisions around my right eye. Another tied a tourniquet around my left hind leg and made a cut all the way down to my hoof. I cried out in pain. They ignored my screams and continued on with their work. Piece by piece, the surgeons removed both of my rear hooves and much of my lower hind legs.     The worst part, though, was when they brought in a robotic arm. It descended over my face, seized my right eye, and pulled it out of its socket. The nerves attached to my eye were quickly severed by the doctors. I thought I was going to die.
But that was just the beginning.
After that first treatment, the medical staff began to prepare my body for the next phase. Tourniquets were tied around my hind legs to control the bleeding. A bandage was wrapped around my head, covering my empty eye socket. Doctors inserted tubes into veins in my front hooves. Another put an oxygen tube in my nostrils.
"Please, give me something to remember my old life by," I begged weakly. "It doesn't have to be big or important, just...something." Right after I finished saying that, they fitted a long, black feeding tube into my mouth. I closed my eye and sucked on the tube. A bitter-tasting fluid filled my mouth. I swallowed, and more liquid came from the tube. For several hours I laid there, drinking the bitter liquid and listening to the staff around me.
"He's held up surprisingly well," said a female voice.
"Better than most, but the real test comes later," said a male.
"Do you think he'll survive?"
"Perhaps. I wouldn't count on it, though." I mulled that thought over in my head. Death would free me of the intense pain of the operation, but this wasn't how I wanted to die. On the other hoof, if I were to survive, who knows what pain I might have to endure? Either way, I could do little to help my situation.
"If he does, he'll be the first," said the male.
"What if he doesn't?" There was a long pause.
"Then we burn his body and bring in another test subject." I didn't like the direction this was going, but I couldn't do anything.
"What about his wish?" asked the female.
"I highly doubt we can give him anything."
"But if we could?"
"I don't know. Maybe something with his horn..." I was intently listening now.
"A light?" offered somepony.
"No. How about a laser?" said another doctor. This led to an argument that lasted until it was time to begin the second phase. The feeding tube was removed from my mouth, the oxygen tube taken out of my nose, and what I assumed were dialysis tubes retracted from my hooves. I received another adrenaline shot and they immediately got to work on me.
The surgeons cut open my chest, leaving my ribcage bare. One by one, they removed the ribs and replaced them with metallic casing. My back was sliced open and my spine reinforced by cold steel. I realized what they were doing with me then: they were carefully disassembling my body and replacing it with robotic parts. Already I could feel artificial hooves being spliced onto my hind legs.
I felt two more tourniquets being tied around my forelegs. My two remaining natural hooves were sliced open and disassembled. Robotic replacements soon were in their place.
The team apparently had finished with my chest and moved down to my torso. Very carefully, they made an incision down the center and slid in two metal plates. The cut in my back was lengthened, and the plates fused with the reinforced spine. Then I felt some of my internal organs being removed and machinery inserted in their place. I saw my pancreas and gallbladder first, followed by my kidneys and liver. Various pieces of robotic equipment disappeared inside of me.
As painful as it was, it was nothing compared to when they connected everything to my nervous system. The shock hit my brain like a two-ton hammer dropped from the top of a mile-deep pit. I still find it amazing that I survived.
When the medical team finished grafting the machines into me, they sealed my chest and belly up completely and removed the skin covering the casing. The dialysis tubes were reattached, this time farther up where I still had living tissue, and the oxygen tube went back inside my nose. The doctors brought out the feeding tube.
"A...portal..." was all I could say before they put it in my mouth. I sucked on it, and once again I drank the bitter liquid.
"What did he say?" asked one of the medics.
"All I heard was 'portal'," replied the doctor who gave me the feeding tube.
"What does a portal have to do with anything? It's not like he was a test subject," said somepony.
"Well, he helped Cranky design tests, and he did run through a few chambers."
"Maybe that's what he wants: to become a test subject."
"No, no. He didn't mind testing for a short period of time, but absolutely hated having to solve a lot of chambers."
"Then what do you think he wants?"
"Remember how we were talking about what to put in his horn earlier?"
"Yeah..."
"What if he wants a portal device?"
"But how would he know what we were talking about?"
"He's still conscious, Pea Body. He can hear us."
The doctor known as Pea Body shrugged. "I didn't read into the technicalities of the process."
"It's obvious you didn't. At least you read what you were supposed to do." That didn't scare me as much as it should have. If everypony there was like Pea Body, the procedure would have gone terribly wrong if somepony screwed up. But I was in too much pain to care.
"So, let's get to it! We still have a few hours until he'll be ready to be completed. Shall we grant him his wish?" said one of the doctors.
"Why not? I have nothing better to do," said another. I heard a large group of them leave. A valve turned, and the feeding tube ran dry. I opened my eye to see the team's leader, a light brown stallion with a darker brown mane, standing over me. He removed the tube from my mouth and said, "Well, was that your wish?"
My response was slow. "Not...exactly."
He began to undo the straps binding me to the bed. "What do you mean by that?"
I slowly rolled onto my side, and the dialysis and oxygen tubes fell out of my legs and nose. "I was about to say 'home'."
The medic rushed over to help me up. "Oh. Well, there's not much we can do about that."
"It's okay, though. Don't worry. I'm sure I could get used to having a portal device in my horn." I stood for the first time since I woke up. My new legs felt strange to use, and I lost my balance.
He caught me before I hit the floor.  "Careful. Don't want to damage anything before the procedure's over," he said.
"Speaking of, what will become of me?"
"What do you mean, during or after stage three?"
"Both."
"You're not going to like it."
"I don't care. What will you do to me?"
The doctor sighed. "About half of your face and neck will be replaced by our technology. Your eye is already gone, so that's not a problem. The real problem is removing half of your skull without damaging the brain. Another technical problem is integrating our computer system to function in tandem with your brain. Once that is done, if we haven't made any mistakes, we implant an artificial eye to fill the empty socket."
I cringed at every point he described. "And after?"
"After we finish, we delete your memory."
I didn't know how to respond to that news. No memories of anything before? I couldn't live like that!
"But," he continued, "I have come to a different decision. Before I erase everything, I will talk to Cranky. If he agrees to it, I'll let you retain your memory."
"And if not?" I asked.
"If he doesn't, I'm left with no choice."
I leaned my head back and closed my eye. "Why are you giving me this chance?"
"Because you were the only one to ask for something to remember the past by. Most of the other ponies I attempted this on died during the process. The ones that survived the procedure died shortly after their memories were deleted. I'm wondering now if memory retention will increase the chances of survival. And you don't want to forget everything you have ever known, do you?"
"No, I don't. Not even this procedure."
"Interesting. Anything else you would like to ask me?"
"Yes. During the final phase, could you please personally do the difficult parts?"
He was obviously taken aback at my request. "Well, um..."
"I know it will be painful, physically for me, emotionally for you, but I feel that I can trust you. Ever since I woke up in that bed, you've been the only one to show any kindness to me," I pleaded.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do."
I smiled weakly, knowing the ordeal both of us was about to go through, and climbed back into the bed. The medic tightened the straps around my body. I reinserted the dialysis tubes into my hooves. He picked up the oxygen tube and put it back in my nose.
"Before you give me the feeding tube, I have one final question," I said.
He walked over to it and started to pull it toward me. "Ask away," he said.
"What will I be used for if I survive?"
"Analysis. The other scientists are trying to create test-worthy AI systems to help phase out pony testing. They will study how your brain interacts with an internal computer and robotic body parts. Also, once you have your computer, I want to make this process as painless as possible. If you come up with any ideas, will you please let me know?"
"After all that you've done and are going to do for me, I would do anything."
"Well, first you've got to survive. I'll tackle the tricky stuff to maximize your chances, but you have to have the will to live."
"And knowing that gives me that will. Speaking of giving, can I have that tube now?"
"Oh! Sorry!" He put it in my mouth and turned the valve again. I sucked and drank the liquid. It didn't taste so bad that time. I don't know whether it was because I was used to it or my renewed outlook on the immediate future.
It was quite some time before the rest of the team came back. They proudly showed their product to the leader, who looked at me and nodded his head.
The valve turned for the last time, and the feeding tube left my mouth. The dialysis and oxygen tubes were removed, and I was left laying there on the bed.
"The patient has requested that I personally finish the process," the team leader told the medics.
"Cranky has ordered us to give him wings," said a mare.
"We'll add the wings before the skull, then."
"But we need to complete our work on him before-" began Pea Body.
"I know about our time constraints. But it's simply too dangerous. I can't have him bucking around while I install the computer system. If he does, he dies, and everything we've done is for nothing. I'm willing to rush wing installation, not the computer's."
I stared up at the ceiling. I was receiving wings. I was becoming an alicorn. Except I wasn't. My wings were being given to me as a part of an experiment; I didn't earn them.
I was woken from thought by the sensation of my spine being drilled into. I screamed. A doctor seized a cluster of nerves and began to graft a wing to my spinal column. Another drilled a hole on the other side of my spine and did the same. When it was finished, the leader asked me if they were working. I was able to wiggle them slightly.
"Good enough," he said.
Pea Body then walked over to me, injected me with a third adrenaline shot, and walked away.
The leader then pulled out a scalpel and touched it to my forehead. "Are you sure you want me to do this?" he asked me. I gave a very slight nod. He then began to cut away the skin on the right side of my face. I managed to withhold from screaming as he did so. When all that was remaining on that side was the bone, he put down the scalpel and grabbed a small circular saw. He cut off the small stump that had once been my horn and then began to cut into the skull itself. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out. Finally, he removed just under half of my face. I still had my complete mouth, but almost no nose.
Then the leader took what I assumed to be the computer and placed it inside the cavity created by my loss of my nose. Long, thin wires ran from it into my brain. He connected the wires to specific portions of the brain and then called for the replacement skull piece. He took two long wires reaching from the inside of the horn and connected them to the computer. I felt nothing except for the touch of his hoof on my face.
A robotic arm moved directly over my head and began to descend. This time, however, it held a round object – my replacement eye. The doctor took it from the arm and looked into my empty eye socket. Using a pair of forceps, he gently picked up what was left of my optic nerve and worked the eye's wires around it before slightly stretching it to connect with the eye itself. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the first two phases. He finally let the eye rest in its socket, but he still had to install my face plate.
It wasn't too painful, but it certainly wasn't painless, either. The doctor pressed the plate into my head, and he slowly began to bond the bone of my skull to the white metal of the plate. "There. Test your eye," he said to me.
I did as he told me. "Everything looks like it did before. Before the beginning of the first phase of the operation, I mean."
"Sounds like the optics are working. Blink." I did.
"And the eyelids are functioning properly as well. Here, let me unstrap you." He and a few others on the medical team undid my bindings. I rolled over and stood up again. I found it was remarkably easier than before.
"It's amazing what a computer can do for your coordination, isn't it?" the doctor asked me. I had to admit it was. "Let's try walking," he said.
I took an uneasy first step forward. I still wasn't used to having robotic hooves. As I went, though, it became easier for me to move.
"Well, Doctor, it would seem that we have succeeded. But what happens when his memory disappears?" said Pea Body.
"Pea Body, we don't have to find out." he replied.
"WHAT?" said everypony else on the team.
"I've talked to Cranky, and he said that he would allow him to keep his memories."
I was overjoyed. Here I had suffered for hours, maybe even days, on end because of a possible scientific breakthrough. But at the end of it all, I still knew who I was and how I got there. I was also bitter towards Cranky. He had forced me to endure this procedure. Sure, he let me retain my memories, but he put me in that position in the first place. I silently swore vengeance upon him.
"And," the doctor continued," he will be overseeing all future robotizations."
I took a guess that the word “robotization” meant the process I had just been through. Well, it could have been worse. I could have ended up as a test subject.
"I don't know what to say," I said. "I think I made it very obvious that the procedure is extremely painful. Putting anypony through that amount of torture is likely to be lethal; I am the first to survive it. But between the second and third phases of the operation, the Doctor and I struck a deal. He would do everything he could to help me survive phase three, and if I did, I would give him information regarding the process from the patient's point of view. This would allow him to develop methods that weren't so painfully traumatic."
"But we find nothing wrong with the current procedure! Why does it need to change?" complained some of the medics.
"Look at our history!" the Doctor yelled. "Out of countless experiments, this is our only success! How many other ponies died during this procedure?"
I backed down. To them, I was just the end product of their experiment. Only the Doctor treated me like a sentient being. They didn't care about what I did as long as they could continue torturing ponies in the same way. I ran from them, out of the medical bay and into an elevator.