//------------------------------// // Chapter V: A Measure of Resolution // Story: Faster Than Light // by Jet Howitzer //------------------------------// The human’s weeping didn’t last as long as Twilight thought it would, and soon the human was just sullenly looking at the ground, his frame slack and yielding to her persuasive motions.  Yielding didn’t imply swiftness, and it took Twilight the better part of five minutes to get him moving back towards the library.  His pace was glacially slow, and every step seemed to come later than the one before it, delayed more and more by Abderus’ emotional state.  The six mares formed a loose circle about the human, nearly unconsciously seeking to protect him from the outside, and seeking to keep him from departing once again.  Even Twilight was only barely aware of what she was doing, her mind too consumed with trying to understand what Abderus was thinking, and the rationale that would prompt his actions.  The biggest fear that Twilight had, during the walk, was that somepony would come out onto the street and witness the strange being now in their midst.  While they had taken kindly to the presence of all manner of strange beings in the past, she was worried that harboring a predator might be going just a bit further than her status would let her. Thankfully, the walk passed by without incident, thanks, in no small part, to Pinkie’s unnaturally natural ability to seemingly detect whenever somepony was approaching.  Due to the fact that they had hidden themselves more than a dozen times the trip from town square to the tree took nearly half an hour.  How Abderus managed to avoid detection during his brief trip baffled Twilight, but she knew better than to look too deeply into matters such as this.  The human didn’t object once to his treatment, gentle as it was, for the entire duration of their trip back.  Honestly, though, the human’s complete indifference was beginning to concern the alicorn, as he hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that he’d been spoken to several times during the walk. Upon entering the library, though, he went immediately to his room, not saying a word to anypony.  Before Twilight, or any of them, could do something, the human reemerged from his room with several pieces of parchment and a quill clutched in his hands.  Without a word he began writing quickly upon the sheets, ignoring the presence of the seven others within the room.  Twilight was the first to approach.  “Abderus, are you okay?  What are --” “Math.  Abderus talk later.  Math now.  Important.” “Oh.”  Twilight looked at her friends, desperate for some kind of suggestion on how to proceed.  When none was forthcoming, she looked back at the hunched over biped.  “If you need anything, feel free to ask.  We’ll be here for the time being.”  The human didn’t even look up, and Twilight felt just a tiny stab of disappointment at being ignored. Twilight was gently dozing on the couch when she felt something gently prod her soft belly.  Her eyes cracked open slowly, letting in the dim light of the full moon.  Abderus was sitting beside her, his eyes bloodshot and blotchy spots marring the area beneath his eyes.  As the mare’s mind caught up with her body, she felt a stab of fear when she realized that she was fully exposed to the machinations of the predator.  The fear nearly vanished after just a heartbeat when she remembered that Abderus had yet to show any true signs of malicious intent.  Save for one outburst that was just a bit provoked.   “Math done.”  The human pointed to a sheet of parchment with a number circled several times.  It took the mare several long moments to figure out that the number was in the human’s own numerical system.  She had spent some time looking at it, and it took her only a few minutes to translate it into the Equestrian counting system.  As the number took shape in her mind, she was baffled by what the human could possibly be doing with such a large sum.  With more than fifty digits, in base ten, the number was a good bit longer in the base eight system favored by Equestria.  As she looked at the mathematics presented she was overwhelmed, understanding only a tiny bit more than half of what was being shown to her.  The pilot seemed fairly insistent in showing her what he had done, and that she should understand.  He pointed to one of the many numbers on the parchment, and then he lowered the paper, and motioned for Twilight to follow. She did so, with only a bit of concern, until they entered Abderus’ room, where she saw several dozen pages littered about the room.  Abderus grabbed several sheets with just a line on them, and then he laid them out.  He pointed at them, and spoke a single term in his own language.  The human held up the pages to his arm, holding them there, and gesturing several times along the length.  It took only a moment of the gesture for Twilight to understand the human’s meaning.  The distance he had drawn out was a special unit of measure for him.  As she looked at the distance, the number that Abderus had shown her took on some small shred of meaning.  She looked at the page again, trying to now put it into a unit that she understood better than the one the human had shown her.  As the figures rolled in her mind, converting from one division of length to the next largest she quickly ran out of lengths that had any meaning in Equestrian society. “Abderus, that number you showed me...  Why di --” “Not done, Twilight.  More.”  He held out another page, this one with a new number on it, far larger than the previous one.  “Time.” “Abderus, I don’t understand.  Nothing could be this old.  Even Equestria itself isn’t this old.  The Sun isn’t even this old.”  She looked back to the distance, and then, again, at the time.  “Abderus, I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at.  We’ve already covered that you know how to do math.  And that your math is more advanced than mine.  Or, at least, more advanced than I can readily understand.” “Abderus far from home.  Abderus gone from home long time.”  The human paused for a moment as he furrowed his brow.  “Abderus alone.”  The mare just looked back at him, trying to understand, when, in a burst of clarity she looked, again, at the numbers.  The human just watched the mare as she finally understood just what the human was going through mentally.  The mare opened her mouth, but the human shook his head, killing her words before they could be given life.  “Abderus...”  He shook his head again, anger flashing across his features.  “I want go...  I want to go home.  But...  But I have no home.”  Once he finished speaking, he fell back onto his butt, and then he just looked down at the paper he held in his hands. Twilight hadn’t seen that one in particular, but she was still trying to truly absorb just what the human had just told her.  “I’m sorry.”  The human looked up at her for a moment, before returning his gaze to the paper.  “Abderus.”  The human looked back up at her, his eyes brimming with tears. “Abderus scared, Twilight.” Several days came and went, and Abderus learned the language rapidly, his vigor seemingly coming from desperation.  He devoured the books that Twilight threw at him, completing the first several years of a foal’s education in just two days.  His grammar and pronunciation were still abysmal, but he was making great strides.  Most of his free time, and he had plenty, was spent poring over the single sheet of parchment that he refused to show to anypony.  Not out of spite, but an unwillingness to divulge what he declared wasn’t ready yet.  Both Twilight and Spike had walked in on him crying several times, and each time he composed himself quickly, refusing to talk about what he’d just been doing. One week after the incident, Abderus finally seemed to have come to terms with his new home, and his requests to go to his ship came less and less frequently.  They never stopped, and he’d mention it at least once a day, but a week after his emotional collapse he’d nearly cut himself off from Spike and Twilight.  It was around noon just nine days after his collapse that he finally looked towards Twilight and started a conversation. “Sorry about.”  Twilight nearly dropped her lunch at the sudden words, and she only just recovered her food before it hit the floor.  “I acted like dumb.  Want say sorry.  Not pony fault.”  He brooded for a moment.  “Not Abderus fault.  Earth fault.  But Earth far away.”  He began rubbing his hands together, and he quickly pulled them apart, probably realizing that it was a nervous habit.  “Angry at Earth, but can’t be angry at Earth.  Instead, angry at pony.  So, I say sorry.” “It’s okay, Abderus.  You’re somewhere totally new, and different.  It’s understandable that you’d be angry and scared.” “Not scared.  Wrong word.  Some scared, mostly...  Worried.  Not right word, but close.  New words, new place, new peo... ponies.” Spike stopped eating, too, and looked towards Abderus as he slowly put his thoughts together.  “It’s cool, Abderus.  Nopony thinks any less of you because of what happened to you.” “Spike is right, Abderus.  It’s perfectly fine.  Really, I’m amazed that you’re doing quite as well as you are.” “Human do well under...”  He paused for a moment.  “Fancy word for hardship.  Many problems.” “Adversity?” “That.  Human top of food chain on Earth.  Made it there through brain.  Not fastest or strongest.  Smartest.  Durable.  Walk for days, no rest.  Durable.  Example.  Pony run from human.  Human walk to keep up, and pony keep running.  Days pass.  Pony always run, get tired.  Human always walk, keep up energy.  Pony stop running, too tired.  Human capture, kill, eat.  Not you, only example.” Spike and Twilight looked at each other for a moment, and then Twilight cleared her throat.  “Yes, but, you also eat vegetables, and fruits.” “Eat anything.  Humans walking sewer.  Filled with many many bacteria.  Body fight itself to stay healthy.  No flower, but much anything else.”  Without thinking Twilight levitated over a pad and a quill, quickly taking down notes as the human talked.  This was the most she’d gotten from him in days, and she didn’t want to let a thing go by.  “No magic.  Only trick.”  He paused for a moment, and then gestured towards the paper Twilight had.  She quickly ripped off a piece, and then held it towards the human.  He drew quickly, a few images, and then showed it to Twilight and Spike.  The dragon got the message first, and ran from the room.  He returned moments later with a deck of cards.  “Humans make trick with cards.  Very impressive.  Will show, later.” “What’s brought this on, Abderus?  Why do you suddenly want to talk to us so much?” A chuckle escaped the human, and he put a hand on his face before reaching into his pants pocket.  He withdrew a piece of paper, and Twilight recognized it as being the sheet he’d carried around all the time.  “Abderus not good at talking, but very good at learning.  Can not read paper, but can show paper.”  He moved it towards Twilight, and she glanced at it for only a moment before recognizing the human’s own interesting alphabet.  “Not Equestrian.”  He flipped it over, and there, written in what looked like perfect Equestrian was the message, translated.  “Hard work, but worth it.  Last call from home.  Make Abderus even more special.” Twilight slid the sheet over, and she began to read the page aloud, so Spike might hear it.  “‘It's been 250 years, Abderus, and we finally managed to work it all out.  We know what went wrong, and we know why, too.  Not that it will do anything for you.  By the time this message reaches you, humanity will, likely, not exist.  This message was sent from Earth at the fastest speed we can produce, and that’s just over three billion times the speed of light.  Our best estimates fail to come even close to identifying how far you went, but we know which direction, and that's enough for us.  Although it will never really matter to how you live your life, we wanted you to know that you didn't sacrifice it all for nothing.  Your mission allowed us to learn from our mistakes, and we now ply the space between the stars with an ease that betrays how much effort went into it.  We're not jaded, though.  The FTL drives aren't like cars.  They're each a marvel of engineering design.  Your name lives on in our society, as both a hero, and an event.  The Abderran Jump is named after you, and is the first test of each ship's FTL drive.  You're a hero, Abderus, even if you never know it.  Admiral Hayes did buy you that beer, and it sits atop your tomb, unopened, waiting for you to come back and have it.  We'll keep the lights on, so you can find your way home.  Just be sure to lock the door when you come in.  Godspeed, Abderus.  All of humanity is behind you.’” “Like I said.  Abderus even more special.” Twilight looked at the page, and while she understood what it said, the full implications were so beyond her that she just couldn’t quite fathom it.  She looked up from the page, and towards the sadly smiling human.  “I’m sorry.” “Not purple pony fault.  Not anyone fault.  Home is gone.  So, make new home.  Long ago, place on Earth destroyed by massive space rock.  Before Abderus born.  People killed.  Others not dead.  Not dead humans move on.  Live life.  Sad, but not beaten.  Make new friends.  New homes.  New everything.  Abderus must do the same.  Even if different from Abderus, more the same.  Talk.  Think.  Feel.”  He reached out towards the mare, and gently wiped a tear from her cheek.  “Cry.  Outside very different.  Inside, too.  Meat for me, not you.  Bad joke.  But in mind, Twilight and Abderus same.” “Spike?”  The dragon tore his gaze from the human, and looked at the princess.  “Tell the guards they won’t be needed anymore.” “You sure, Twi?  Just because he’s saying all of this doesn’t mean that he’s all better.” “That’s true, Spike.  But I don’t think that he needs to be guarded, or to be warded against.” The dragon frowned for a moment, but then nodded.  “Alright, Twi.  I’ll send a letter to Princess Celestia.” “Twilight trust Abderus?” “I do, Abderus.  You may be different on the outside, but on the inside, in your mind, we’re not that different.” The human fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, and then he pulled out a new sheet of paper.  It looked familiar, and after a moment Twilight recognized it as being a page from a story book.  One that she’d given to Abderus last week, and that had vanished.  “Broke book.  Sorry.  But page made me feel bad.  Read earlier today, many many times.  I decide I want change.”  He pointed at the page.  A single word on that page.  “Abderus want friends.  But, now, Abderus not know where to start.”