Standard Disclaimer: I do not own MLP, nor am I in any way affiliated with the author of the story this fic is based upon.
XXXXXXX
Chapter Thirteen
Earth. Fort Wyvern military base. Special agent Charlie Helms swiped his security badge at the fifth door in less than ten minutes and continued on his way into the depths of the base. He was annoyed. As usual, he had been called in on short notice. That part didn't bother him. Nor was he bothered by not knowing precisely what was wanted of him. That, too, was normal; the details were always withheld until he was actually on-site. But this time, they hadn't even given him the slightest indicator of what was up. That was unheard of.
Finally arriving at his destination, Agent Helms opened one last door and stepped into the briefing room. He found, not the large crowd of suits as expected, but a single man, who he recognized as General David Carver. “General.”
“Agent. Welcome, have a seat.”
Helms sat, asking “So where's the fire?”
“Right here.”
“I'm sorry sir, what?”
“Right here. The entity was bought here after it was secured.”
“Entity? General, what exactly is going on here?” Helms asked, growing confused.
General Carver gave a confused look of his own. “You weren't briefed? I was told you would be filled-in while you were in route.”
“No General, no one has told me a thing.”
“Damn... Alright, here's the situation. Yesterday at thirteen hundred hours F.B.I. And City Police forces in Port Timbrey raided a known mafia warehouse, expecting to find large caches of illegal weapons and drugs. They succeeded on that account, as well as capturing Don Calamari himself. But there were a pair of strange complications.”
“I'm assuming dealing with the complications is where I come in.”
“Exactly. The first one involved the discovery of a small group of hostages being held by the Don's enforcers. The police who found them said that they simply 'vanished' from sight, along with a strange looking creature similar to a small horse. The second complication is another of these horse creatures captured alive in the warehouse a short time later. It speaks perfect English.”
“Wait, speaks? These things are intelligent? Well, what are they, where are they from?”
“Good questions. Your job is to assist me with the initial interrogation.”
“I understand... When do we begin?”
Carver stood. “Right now. Come with me Agent.” The General walked out the door and Helms followed close behind. They went down a long, slowly curving hallway, passing a handful of armed guards and a number of scientists in lab coats.
“General, you guys haven't started any experimenting yet have you?”
“What kind of movie script fools do you take us for? We're not going to unduly risk upsetting whatever leadership these things have. We've taken a small blood sample and a clipping of hair. That's all.” They stopped in front of an elevator. General Carver swiped an I.D. Badge, offered his handprint, retina scan, and voice-print, then typed in a twelve-digit passcode before the door finally opened.
“Impressive security.” Helms commented as he stepped in.
“That's nothing. Two of the digits in the code I entered, I won't tell you which two, told the system how many passengers to expect. If that number had been wrong, for example if I had told it that I was boarding alone and is sensed the two of us, we'd be dead now.”
Helms swallowed hard and gazed around at the elevator walls. Fortunately, the trip down was brief. They emerged on a lower level and Carver led the way down another, totally deserted hallway. Finally, they came to the holding room. Looking through a porthole, Helms saw a small pink creature, seated in a chair and strapped into place. General Carver opened the security doors and they stepped in.
“Hey! Don't I get a phone call?” Pinkie asked.
Helms whispered “Is it actually asking for civil rights?”
“I assume so.” Carver leaned over and stared Pinkie in the eyes. “Now then, I have questions, and you are going to answer them. Understand?”
“Oh sure, I know how this sort of thing works.” Pinkie answered.
Carver nodded. “Good. So, first question-”
He was interrupted as Pinkie, proving that she did indeed know how a captured soldier was supposed to respond to interrogation, said “Name: Pie, Pinkie. Rank: Element of Laughter. Serial Number: Three point one four one five nine two six five three five...”
“What's it doing?”
“...eight nine seven nine three two three eight four six...”
“Name rank and serial number General.”
“...two six four three three eight three two seven nine...”
“No, that I get. I mean the numbers, why is it still going?”
“...five zero two eight eight four one nine seven one...”
“It's giving it's serial number as the precise value of pi. Which never ends, so this could take awhile.” Agent Helms couldn't help but chuckle.
“...Six nine three nine nine three seven five one zero five eight two zero nine seven four nine four four five nine two three zero seven eight one six four zero six two eight six two zero eight nine nine eight six two eight zero three four eight two five-”
“Enough!!!” Carver shouted. “STOP!”
“Okey-dokie Lokie!”
Fuming, Carver needed a moment to gain control of himself. He finally said “Look. No more games. I don't want us to be enemies, but you have answers I need so I have to get these answers out of you. You are going to answer my questions.”
In a flat monotone, a perfect imitation of HAL 9000, Pinkie said “I'm sorry Dave. I can't do that.”
General Carver, as noted above, General David Carver, stepped back in shock. “How did it know my name!?” He demanded. “How did you know my name!?”
Returning to her normal voice, Pinkie answered “Sorry Davie, I'd have to break the wall to answer that question.”
“Wall? What wall?”
“Fourth.”
“What?”
“And I'm only allowed to do that when the narrative requires it. Or, when the results would be really, really funny...”
“Look... Can we maybe just start over from the very beginning?” Agent Helms asked.
“Are you sure that's what you want?”
“Absolutely.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Well, alright then...” She then started over from the beginning. “Name: Pie, Pinkie. Rank: Element of Laughter. Serial Number: Three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight nine seven nine three two three eight four six-” She was muffled by Carver putting a hand over her mouth.
“Stop!” He shouted again.
As the General pulled his hand away, Pinkie concluded “...And the final digit of Pi is carl!”
“But Pi never ends!”
“I'm pretty sure it does.” Pinkie argued. “It goes Three, nine, nine, eleventy-one, seven, tau, minus two, carl.”
“Carl isn't a number!” Helms exclaimed.
Pinkie begged to differ. “Sure it is!”
“What!?”
“Carl is the number between four and five that those Meanie Mc.Meanpants Foundation people keep hidden from everyone else because it's okay to talk about it but if you write it down it breaks the universe!”
Helms looked at Pinkie in stupified disbelief, then said to Carver “General, can I speak with you alone for a moment?” Carver nodded and the two men left the room, resealing the massive vault door behind them. Once they were in the hallway, Helms glanced through the window at Pinkie again, then leaned in close to the General and said “Sir, I'm not sure there's anything for me to do here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well General, my job involves protecting the country, and at times the world, by dealing with threats to the national interest. I don't think there's any threat here General.”
“You don't...” Carver couldn't believe what he was hearing. “It's an alien!!!”
“Well of course it's an alien General, but it's a retard or something...”
Up until this point, Helms and Carver had been leaning in very close to each other as they talked. But now Pinkie, having freed herself, stuck her head in between theirs and said “Could you two stop calling me 'it?' It's very rude.”
General and Secret agent both jumped backwards cursing, leaving Pinkie to fall to the floor. “How did you get free!?” Carver demanded.
“The usual way.”
The General looked over at Helms and shouted “Get it!” Both men jumped forward in an attempt to tackle the pony. They ended up flat on the floor, with Pinkie bouncing away down the hall singing to herself. Getting back on their feet, the two men gave chase, Carver saying to Helms “No threat here, huh?” The Agent had no reply...