Chapter 26: Error 404, Memories Not Found
The room was dead silent, no one spoke a word. “If you don't mind,” the doctor said, breaking the silence. “I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Go ahead doc, it’s not like I have anything else to do,” I replied, my throat still a little dry.
He took a clipboard and a pen, “What is you name, age, and occupation?”
“Andrew Briggs, twenty-four, and former Army reservist.” The doctor and nurse kept their stoic demeanor while the woman started tearing up. “What’d I say?” I asked, obviously I was the most confused person in the room.
“Don’t worry about that right now, sir. What is the last thing that you remember?”
“The last thing that comes to mind is that I just got off a plane at Phoenix International after a transfer flight from JFK.”
“Anything after that?”
I tried to remember anything further, but it felt as though I was trying to looks through fog thick enough to cut with a knife. “No, sorry doc I’ve got nothing”
“That’s quite alright.” I could see the woman start to sob, “I do have one last question for you: do you know who she is?” he asked pointing to the redhead.
Everything about her felt familiar, yet foreign. “Kind of.”
“Care to elaborate?” he asked. The woman looked hopeful.
“Well...” I started. “She seems to look familiar, but I don’t know why because I haven’t seen her before. When I look at her I feel as though I could tell her anything, even my darkest secrets.”
“Interesting...” he trailed. “Well that’s all I need to know for now. The nurse here is going to do some tests on you, just to see how you’re recovering.” He directed his attention to the redhead, “If you could please join me in the hallway.”
The two walked out of the room, leaving me with the nurse. “So how are you?” she asked while grabbing my charts.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve felt better,” I replied.
She only smiled as she took out a metal instrument with a dull point. “I’m going to gently tap a few areas on your body, please tell me if you feel anything.” I nodded, letting her poke and prod at me. I wonder what they’re talking about in the hallway?
***
Spitfire closed the door behind her and met the doctor by the room’s window. She lifted up the arms of her long sleeved shirt to wipe away a tear that was making its way down her cheek.
“As you could probably guess, not everything is quite alright with your husband.”
“Oh really? What gave it away, the moaning like a zombie or the fact he doesn’t remember his own wife who is standing right in front of him?!?”
“Mrs. Briggs, please calm down. I understand that you’re upset, but being hotheaded about this will only make things worse.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “It just hurts me to see him like this,” she said as she looked at her beloved through a window being poked and prodded by the nurse.
“I understand how you’re feeling. But if you’ll let me finish I going to say that I need to consult with a colleague of mine, but I believe that he is suffering from amnesia brought on by the physical head trauma he sustained.”
“Is there anything we can do?” she asked hopefully.
“All I can say for now is to talk to him, maybe you’ll kick start his memory.” He set a hand on her shoulder, “You sat at his bedside for three months waiting for him to wake up. You called in every favor you could to get him the best medical care in the country. Take a piece of advice from an old Canterlot doctor: relax. You’re no good to him high-strung. Why don’t you go inside and talk to him.” She only nodded, walking back inside, passing the nurse as she left. “So how is he?”
“As expected he has feeling above his waist, but unexpectedly he also had some feeling in his toes too,” the nurse said, reading off of the charts.
“Well isn’t that interesting. We’ll let them catch up for now,” he said as he walked away.
***
The nurse left with mixed emotions, I could tell by her surprise that something was wrong with my legs that I had no idea of. As quick as the nurse left, the mysterious redhead returned. She sat down where she did before, but she didn’t say anything and kept her head down. Probably in an attempt to stall for time to phrase the right sentence together.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Spitfire,” she replied. The room was quiet again.
“We’re married, aren’t we?” I asked, breaking the silence. “And before you ask if I am remembering this, I’m not. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put one and one together. I may not have complete control over my body, but I managed to steal a glance at my left hand; there is a ring on it as I see a ring on your hand. Then add in the fact you looked enthralled when I woke up and extremely depressed when I said what I said earlier. You being asked out into the hallway by the doctor sealed it, only a loved one can be presented information about a patient when deciding what to do next. Plus last time I checked you weren’t my sister.”
She smiled for a moment, a sad one though. I must’ve brought back a memory of me or something. “Yeah, we are,” she replied.
“How long were we married?”
“In the eyes of the law almost a year and a half, for us a year as of a few days ago.” It was no surprise that I was confused. “Yeah it’s a bit confusing.” She then explained the wedding in Vegas, our agreement, and when things officially changed over for us.
“So we-?”
“Yeah,” she said while blushing.
“In some family’s cabin that we broke in to?” She nodded. “You must’ve really loved me to do something that crazy, and criminal. So how did we meet?”
“Well you were pointing a gun to my head, and I was naked.”
“I didn’t force you to do anything-?”
“No it was justified, I broke into your house.” She then told the tale of her arrival at my house. It was hard to believe. “You aren’t believing a word I’m saying are you?”
“I’d believe a pot smoking hippie who thought they were riding a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows.” She looked borderline insulted. “Hey, I’m just calling them as I see it.”
“I’m going to show you something, just promise not to freak out,” she requested. “Again,” she muttered under her breath. She took off her shirt, and I just stared at the gifts her momma gave her. I heard what sounded like someone talking underwater. “Andrew,” I heard softly. Then it got louder, “Andrew.” Then a shout, “ANDREW!”
“Yes?” I asked, my eyes shooting to meet hers.
“You can stare at my breasts later. There’s something that you really need to see.”
“Woah,” I said as I noticed the yellow-orange wings stretching out, from her no less.
“You’re taking this a lot better the second time around,” she mused.
“How’d I react the first time?”
“You shouted,” she said bluntly.
“Somehow that sounds like something I’d do,” I chuckled a bit. We talked for a while, mainly learning about family related things that my mind had neglected to keep. I had a newborn nephew, forced my brother-in-law to leave my sister because of infidelity, and my family approving of Spitfire being added to the family. I had lost close to two years of my life, and I remembered nothing of it. Honestly it wad kind of depressing.
“Excuse me, ma’am? Visiting hours are over,” a nurse said politely as she entered the room.
“Of course,” she replied. “If I could just have a moment please?” The nurse nodded in acknowledgment before slipping out of the room. “I know you don’t want me to go, but you heard what she said.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
“Of course,” she replied before kissing me on the cheek. “Get some rest now, ok?”
When she left the room, the nurse made her way in. “Andrew, you don’t mind if I call you Andrew, do you?” she asked.
“Whatever makes your job easier,” I replied.
“Well then Andrew, would you like anything to eat before lights out?”
“Well I’d like a sirloin marinated in whiskey, medium-well, a side of onion rings, and an ice cold beer.”
“Uh sir, you aren’t ready for anything quite that solid yet, and alcohol isn’t allowed on hospital premises.”
“In all fairness you asked what I would like. I’ll just have jell-o or something.” She left and returned a short time later with a small bowl of jell-o and a syringe. “What’s in the needle?”
“Just something to help you sleep, sir.” Due to my new lack of arm strength she was forced to feed me, not that I’m complaining, she’s kind of cute. “Is there anything else you need,” she said finishing up, the needle now in the IV line, plunger not yet depressed. I shook my head ‘no’. She pushed down after saying, “Sweet dreams, Mr. Briggs.”
My vision started to darken as my eyelids felt heavy. Without thinking I replied, “You too.” Sleep took me without resistance.
***
I was sitting in an overstuffed leather chair in front of a fireplace. “Thank you for joining me,” a female voice said from beside me. I looked and saw who the voice belonged to. She looked to be around my age, pale skinned, marking on her arms, dark blue wings (folded), ethereal hair with stars, oh and a crown. “Andrew, is everything alright?”
“Umm, not to sound rude or anything, your highness, but who are you?”
“‘Tis a good jest,” she laughed. “Do you not remember our last meeting a few nights ago?” she asked.
“I’d hate to sound blunt in front of royalty, but if I did, would I have greeted you by your name instead of asking who you are?”
She stared at me frustrated before shifting into disbelief. “The words that leave thine tongue speaketh the truth.” She rubbed her temples, “How did this happen?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I woke up earlier too weak to move anything other than my head.” We sat there in silence, “So why did you swap into Old English there?”
“Sometimes when I am stressed I swap back to old speaking habits I have recently have been trying to update to the standards of today.” She looked depressed again, “It was my fault. I went inside your subconscious to try and coax you out, I must’ve damaged something on my way out. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she cried out as she clung to me, hoping that it would do something to relieve some of her assumed guilt.
“Uh… there, there?” I replied in an attempt to calm her down. “Sorry, I’m not too good at these kinds of things. Or at least that I’m aware of.”
“‘Tis fine,” she said with a sniffle. “Thou are not yourself.”
“So... what now?”
“I could help you recover the lost memories, however we would have to tiptoe around since I do not want to cause any more damage to your mind. It would take a while.”
“Because ending up a vegetable would certainly suck,” I joked darkly. “By the way, this has been bugging me: how are you able to spend so much time on me, don’t you have other things to do, like more important things?”
“You see, when I enter one’s dream or subconscious time moves slower inside of it, allowing me to spend as much time as needed to deal with whatever issue the dreamer has.”
“Talk about some Inception level shit,” I muttered. “Back to the point though, is there any other way?”
She rubbed her chin as she thought. “Well there is always the ‘wait and see’ method used for years before my return.”
“Can I have some time to think this over? I mean I just woke up and can’t even feed myself, at this point I don’t think that I can make a levelheaded decision.”
“Of course. Just send word to me or my sister when you want to attempt it.”
***
I groggily woke up from my sedative induced sleep to an empty room and it was quiet. The heart monitor was beeping happily along at an even pace. I felt something under my index finger. I looked down and saw that the nurse put some kind of rectangular crystal-like object under my hand, the index finger near the word ‘Call’. Apparently this is the hospital’s version of a call button for the nurses’ station.
I pressed down as hard as I could with little strength I had. My finger twitched a little and touched the word, as soon as it did the entire stone started glowing a soft red. A few seconds later a nurse walked through the door, letting in the noise from outside the hall. She asked me the whole ‘how are you feeling?’ and ‘what can I help you with?’ questions. How was I supposed to answer the first one? Depressed? Helpless?
“Fine,” I answered. I had a feeling she knew that I was lying. “Can I get something to eat?” She nodded and left. I stared at the wall, it’s not like there’s anything else to do. What I wouldn’t give for my phone or laptop right now, even if I can only watch a movie or TV show I downloaded.
The nurse returned a while later, with an intern in tow who was holding a tray of food. “Mr. Briggs this is my intern Silver Lining, she is going to give me a hand in feeding you as I check your vitals. But first I need to check the stitches on your sides. Ms. Lining, a hand please.”
They leaned me forward and removed the bandages covering the areas around my kidneys. As she looked she gave mutterings of approval. “So, how does it look?” I asked.
“Very good, it’ll heal up nicely. Now while I’m back here I’m also going to check on one other thing, just tell me if you feel anything again.”
“Sounds easy enough. So how did this happen anyway?” I asked as she started to prod lightly at the base of my spine.
“No one’s talked to you about it?” the nurse asked.
“Nope, with this whole memory loss thing sort of showed up first on everyone’s radar as ‘worry about it now’.”
“Do you want the long or short of it?”
“Short.”
“Well you came down with a case of magical toxicity from a bad blood transfusion and one kidney died and the other was failing, the only way to save your life was a transplant from a suitable donor.” She poked at the spine again. “Do you feel anything?”
“Yeah, you’re poking me and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop. So how’d I end up like that? I mean it’s not like you do transfusions for small stuff.”
“From what I was told you were in some sort of explosion down near the base of the castle.”
That last part threw me for a loop, “Wait, castle? Where the hell am I?”
“Why sir,” Lining said. “You are at Fethert and the medical college of the Empire.” She looked quite excited about that.
“I’m sorry, where?” The place didn’t seem familiar. They set me back so I was propped up comfortably.
“You’re in the Crystal Empire.” I shook my head. “Residence of Princess Cadence and her husband Crown Prince Shining Armor?” Nope. “We’re a two days train from Canterlot?” Nada. “We’re a commonwealth of Equestria?” Zilch, well it does at least tell me who technically owns the place at least.
“Next you’ll be telling me that we aren’t on Earth,” I joked, chuckling a little. It ended as I saw that the two women weren’t joining in. Their uneasy looks told me everything I needed to know. “We’re not on Earth, are we?”
“Earth, sir?” the nurse asked.
“You know, Terra, the third rock from the sun, the only planet in the solar system capable of sustaining life by itself?”
“Sir, we’re on Equiuus.” That was the biggest bombshell dropped on me. I just sat there in shock saying nothing. “Sir, are you alright?” I could only think of my family, what they were doing, what they thought had happened to me. “Sir?”
“Please leave.” They reluctantly did so, closing the door behind them. I was alone. No friends or family were even on the same rock as me. Even if I have a wife, I don’t remember her. Eventually I fell asleep from sheer boredom.
I woke up a couple of hours later, groggy and hungry. There was a glass of water on the table that went over the bed. I weakly tried to reach for it, it felt as though I had several hundred pounds of lead strapped to my arm. As I moved it I felt my arm shake as if I were Michael J. Fox. When I finally reached the table my arm gave out, landing with a soft thud on the surface. I slowly moved my hand along the table until it was touching the cool glass. I gripped my fingers around it, as I tried to pick up the glass it felt as though I was trying to lift a two ton truck.
Eventually I was able to drag it to the edge of the table, right as the nurse walked in. “Oh my,” she sounded surprised as she quickly made her way to me. She grabbed my arm gently and set it back on the bed. “Now what were you up to?”
“I was thirsty,” I replied.
“You should have used the call button. Here, let me help.” She put a straw in the glass and at least let me drink out of it that way. Achievement unlocked: some dignity saved – 20G. “You need to get back your strength first, though it is good to see that you’re starting to recover.”
“I’m getting tired of this room.”
“You’ve only been awake two days, how bad could it be?”
“You have no TV, no computer, no smartphone, hell I can’t even hold a book. You have no idea how boring it is to count the pitting in the ceiling tiles.”
“But you haven’t been awake that long, sir.”
“You get the point. Seriously, can I get out of this room, even for a little bit?” I pleaded. I knew how boring it was going to be if I weren’t asleep or talking to people.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she left the room. “What’s a computer or smartphone?” I swear I heard her ask as the door closed. Well I’m screwed in the entertainment department. A little while later that intern came by and helped feed me, admittedly she is cute so it wasn’t all bad. Eventually the nurse came back, “Well I talked to the doctor about your request, and he said until you get stronger you can’t leave the room. I’m sorry.”
“Well, shit. Do you have anything that will pass the time?”
“Well we do have radios, I can see if the custodian can bring up one later. In the meantime I do believe that you have a few guests that wish to visit you.”
The door opened and in came an African-American man and an Asian-American woman, both either in their mid to late twenties or early thirties. “Hey boss, your wife said you woke up and we thought we should stop by and check up on you,” the man said.
“Boss?” I asked. “Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”
They both looked at each other. “We don’t look familiar to you at all?” the woman asked.
I studied their faces for a moment, “Nope.”
“She said it was bad, but I had no idea.”
“Sir, this may be hard for you to believe, but you’re our CO,” the man said.
I didn’t believe a word he said, “Right.” I rolled my eyes, “And I’m waiting for the camera crew to appear to yell ‘smile, you’re on Candid Camera’!” But they didn’t show any of the classic signs of lying. “You’re dead serious, aren’t you?” They nodded, “What idiot made me a CO?”
“Well sir, it’s a bit of a long story. One which even I don’t know all of the details of.”
***
Spitfire sat in the office of the doctor in charge of her husband. “Yes. Of course. Thank you Dr. Feelgood,” he said as he hung up.
“Well?” she asked nervously. “What’s the word?”
He sighed as he removed his glasses. “It is as we feared: retrograde amnesia.”
“Is there anything we can do? I heard that Princess Twilight used a memory recollection spell to help get her friends out of a slump a few years ago,” she suggested desperately.
“Unfortunately that spell would only work if the caster had the same memories that were going to be restored. Princess Twilight used that spell to target specific memories that would then chain to another by themselves without her continuing the spell.”
“Well couldn’t I just allow her to look into my memories and let her restore the important ones and let the others fall into place?”
“In theory, yes it would work.” Her face lit up in hope, “But you would also have to share extremely intimate memories with the caster.” Her cheeks reddened at the thought. “Yes, those type of ‘intimate moments’ as well.”
Spitfire regained her composure. “Can’t we still try it? I am willing to do anything,” she pleaded.
The doctor sighed, “There’s no guarantee that it’ll work. You have to understand that the brain is a very complex organ. Even if the procedure is a success from a spell perspective there’s still a chance that you’ll only be showing him your memories instead of replacing what was lost.”
“What do you mean, doctor?” she asked confused.
“Think of it like watching a motion picture, but add in emotions and other feelings as you replay those memories. He’ll still feel those emotions as he sees things as you saw and felt them, but that’s it. He may acknowledge that without a doubt everything that happened during the time you were married, but won’t have memories of his own to remember any of it.”
“What else is there that we can do?”
“Other than try to remind him of things that happened in the past and hope that jogs his memory, all we can do is wait and see.”
***
“Ok, so you’re telling me I’m the team leader of a squad of genetically modified soldiers running out of Groom’s Lake AKA Area 51?” I asked with disbelief.
“Yes, sir. And you were one of the first ones,” the woman replied.
“Lang was it?” I asked her and she nodded. “Do you have any proof of these claims?”
Her arms glowed with a green aura and the glass on the table was surrounded with the same aura and floated over to her, landing in her hand. “These are also yours, sir,” she floated over a set of dog tags so I could see them.
“Nice trick, do you do kids’ parties?” I read the lines stamped into the metal. ‘Captain Andrew Briggs’ followed by my service number, blood type, and preferred religious chaplain. “Good fakes, so where’s the group of people ready to jump out and yell ‘April fools!’?”
“Jones, get me a mirror,” she said and Jones nodded. She snapped her fingers and the hospital gown lifted up and what felt like a low level electrical current was running through something on my back. “Jones, if you would please?” He held the mirror in front of me allowing to see behind me. There was a set of wings, not unlike Spitfire’s, but black. “Now do you believe us, sir?”
“Those are real, right?” I asked. I was tempted to poke one, but in my current physical condition I could not.
“They are,” Jones replied.
“So… real feathers, real bone and muscles?”
“Indeed.”
“Well… this is new.”
“Now do you believe us, sir?”
“How do I know she isn’t using some sort of illusion?” I asked skeptically. They had good poker faces, either they were telling the truth or are experienced liars.
Her hands glowed again and this time the aura surrounded my right wrist and gently moved it over close enough to touch one of the wings. I reached out with a finger and touched it. I was expecting to feel plastic or even to pass through it, to my surprise it was soft, downy, and warm. And to even add more shock to the table I actually felt the feather being touched, meaning there were nerves in place making this real. They let me sit back again on the bed.
“But how? I don’t even...” I stammered, trying to understand what was going on.
“Do you believe us now?” Lang asked. But I didn’t answer, a thousand thoughts were racing through my mind.
“I think you broke him,” he mused. “Boss? Hello?” He waved a hand in front of my face. My attention snapped to him. “Are you ok?”
“I think so?” I asked unsure of how I really do feel. On the one hand I have wings, but on the other hand it’s like I’m not quite human anymore. That Lang woman was able to do things with her mind like levitation while Jones was stronger than the average guy, like way stronger as in he could dent solid steel if he wanted to without breaking a sweat; then there’s me, the oddball with wings. They can at least look like a normal human while I can’t.
While thinking this I didn’t notice the door open. “Hi honey, I just wanted to stop by and- what’s wrong, what happened?” Spitfire asked with worry.
“I think Jones broke him,” Lang replied.
“I did not,” he retorted.
“Well what DID you do?” she accused.
“Well... we may have told him that he has wings,” he flinched a bit after saying it quickly.
“You WHAT!?!” she yelled, which brought me out of my thoughts. “I thought we were going to break it to him gently.”
“I’m sorry. He started asking questions and one thing lead to another and that lead to us showing him his wings,” Lang explained.
Spitfire sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose. “What else did you tell him?”
“Just that he is the captain of our little squad, and that about sums it up,” Jones answered.
She said nothing for a moment, a vein pulsing on her forehead. “Fine, but next time wait for me, especially with topics that could be considered sensitive.”
“And in case you’ve forgotten said person is still in the room and awake,” I cut in.
Spitfire came over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand in hers. “I’m sorry, honey. I just wanted you to hear stuff like that from me instead.”
“Well it’s sort of my fault, I sort of asked the right questions that revealed them.”
“Well…” she paused trying to find the right words. “Are you ok?”
“I guess. I mean it’s all so… surreal. I mean I know I’m human, but at the same time I feel as though I’m not.”
She gripped my hand a little more firmly, “Well I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.”
We all talked for a while, mostly small talk. No real information from my past was really divulged. Sometime in the afternoon the nurse took me to get a CT scan, or at least their version of one; they couldn’t do a MRI because of the metal shard embedded in my spine, plus I have no desire to have something forcibly ripped out of me by magnets. It didn’t take long fortunately, but as they helped me back into the wheelchair I saw the looks on some of the technicians’ faces: confusion, which in turn concerned me, something that showed once they got me back into my bed. Waiting for me was Spitfire as well as two newcomers I had never seen before.
“Andrew, is everything ok?” Spitfire asked, noticing my concern for something.
Well regardless if I remember it or not, she is my wife. “Hopefully yes. I saw some looks of confusion on the techs’ faces as I got out of the ‘doughnut.’ Hopefully it’s nothing, but I have a feeling that the doc will be having a word with you about it,” I replied and she only nodded. Apparently I must’ve said things like this before because this didn’t surprise her in the slightest.
“Observant, aren’t we?” the female newcomer asked with a smirk.
As I looked at her I saw that she was quite attractive. Long legs, a slender hourglass shaped torso, a nice set of ‘assets,’ some muscle on the arms that said she could handle herself in a fight, and a face that would make any ‘girl next door’ type jealous. The odd thing about her was the pink hair with blue and blonde highlights, must be a bitch for her hairdresser to maintain. I even noticed at this distance the wispy pale blue markings on her arms that looked like they were rising like smoke from her wrists, occasionally there would be a heart shaped marking similar to those Open Heart pendants that sold like wildfire years ago. I could have sworn that I saw a pink feather sticking out from behind her. The man next to her was an inch shorter than her, had the physique of a soldier or bodybuilder, and had similar markings on his arms but in a pinkish-purple coloring instead of blue.
“I’m sorry-?” I trailed allowing for her to finish.
“Princess Cadence,” she finished. “And this is my husband, Shining Armor,” she gestured to the blue haired man next to her.
Royalty, great. “Though I’d like to bow or salute or whatever it is your people do right now, but as you can see my muscles decided to take a vacation and have yet to return. I might fire them if they don’t show up to work soon.” She let out a slight chuckle while her husband and Spitfire rolled their eyes. At least this Candy-person is polite and has a sense of humor.
“There is no need to do so as we are here unofficially.”
“Ah. Well good because I think the good doc has no desire to restitch me anytime soon. Not to be rude, but why are you here?”
“Well we came to see how the owner of one of my kidneys is doing.”
It dawned on me that she was the one that effectively saved my life. “It was you?” She nodded, “Why?”
“Well I couldn’t let the beloved of one of my aunts’ subjects die without attempting to save them.”
“Plus someone dying on your front lawn tends to bring the property value down,” the man known as Shining added.
“Shining!” she yelled at him and he only shrugged it off. “I’m sorry for the way he’s acting.”
“I like him, he has the same kind of dark humor that I have,” I said amused.
After a moment of awkward silence Cadence asked, “So how is the kidney treating you?”
“Well I’m not in a coma anymore and I’m feeling better than I was last night. Except...”
“Except-?”
“He has memory loss,” Spitfire finished for me. “He can’t remember anything of our time together.”
“May I try something?” she asked me.
“Uh... sure?” I replied. She walked over and placed her hand on my forehead. My temples felt like they had a heating pad attached to them. The feeling ended a minute later when she stepped back with a smile on her face. What did she just do?
“Well I have good news, deep down he still loves you even if he doesn’t know why exactly,” she said to Spitfire. That seemed to give her some sort of relief.
“Does that mean you can-?” Spitfire started to ask.
“Unfortunately I do not know the spell nor do I have the finesse to return his memories.” Spitfire looked saddened again. “Do not worry though, even if you have to make new memories to replace those that were lost, he will love you the same as he did before you returned.”
“How would you know that?” I asked.
“The heart knows what the heart wants,” she replied cryptically with a smile before she too walked out of the room.
***
The Badlands
The queen of the changelings walked slowly along the balcony that overlooked sprawling underground cityscape beneath her, her fingers trailing on the railing as she walked along. In her mind she could hear the minds of her thousands of subjects. She remembered the first day, almost six months ago, when she defeated her mother and was awarded control of the swarm. One voice showed up in her mind saying ‘Long live the queen’ as if someone were speaking next to her, it was followed by hundreds, then thousands until all she could hear was shouting that drove her to her knees in pain. Now it was nothing more than a buzzing in the back of her mind.
She had complete control of the swarm, sans whatever personal guards had left with her mother. If she desired something to drink, a drone would appear with whatever she was thirsting for. If she desired sustenance a drone would appear a short time later with either a gem that stored ‘love’ energy or the occasional dish that a human would eat. She never had to say a word, the swarm knew when their queen needed something and the urgency of that need. The link to the swarm is also a two-way street, if there was something that the swarm desperately needed she was made aware of it, usually loud enough to give her migraines. How her mother ever put up with this, she’ll never know.
She could feel the presence of one of her advisors entering the room intending to speak with her, “My queen,” he said. She turned around to see him on a knee with his head bowed down.
“What is it?” she asked slightly annoyed.
“Our agents have reported in, they are all in position and are ready for further instructions.”
She smiled, the next phase of her plan was almost ready to begin. “Excellent. Tell them to stay ‘under the radar,’ so to speak for now until I give the command to do otherwise.”
“What shall they do in the meantime, my queen?”
“Do what they do best: feed. But keep it discreet. We don’t want the Equestrians to catch on quite yet, not until it’s too late for them to do anything.”
“Pardon, you highness?”
“Come here,” she said gesturing to the railing. He walked over and saw what his queen was looking at not five minutes before. “What do you see?”
“Drones, my queen.”
“And what do drones do?”
“They work.”
“But do they fight?”
“Not unless the hive is being attacked.”
“Now what happened to a large majority of our army, advisor?”
“A large portion did not survive the assault on Canterlot three years ago.”
“Precisely. We need enough time to bolster our ranks.” She turned around to face her advisor. “Tell our agents to be on the lookout for high quality specimens as they go about their ‘lives’.”
“It shall be done. All hail Queen Instara!” he said before leaving the room.
Instara moved over to her mirror and looked at herself. Even for a Changeling she would be considered attractive to humans and other species of this planet, if they didn’t want her kind extinct that is. Her blue-green hair accented by a lone cyan strand hung down. “Soon it will all be mine,” she said with a smile creeping up her face.
***
The doctor looked at the scan every which way and yet he still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He had let other doctors take a look at is as well but they were just as confused as he was. The radiologists claimed that the equipment may be faulty, while the surgeons were amazed that something like this was going on based on the fact they had nothing to do with it. Eventually the doctor sat down at his desk staring at the scans in the folder.
“How does a shard of metal just disappear from the human body entirely?” he asked in frustration to the gods above. He looked closer at the vertebrae and saw what looked like strands of metal. “Hello there…” he said as his interest peaked. ‘This is going to require some more tests,’ he thought to himself.